Saint Ursula Academy - Scroll Yearbook (Toledo, OH)

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Servant of Mary. .. Rev. Gerald Dunne cc ILlVIARY,H servant of lVIary, is not only the title of Father Dunneys new book, it is a de- scription of Father himself. It isn't very often one reads a book one week and in- terviews the author the next, in fact, it isn't very often one finds a well-known author in one's own home town. But it can and did happen in Toledo. I know, for it happened to me. The book Gil- mary -its author? Reverend Gerald W. E. Dunne, Litt. D., instructor of religion and mechanical drawing at Central Catholic. After I had ensconced myself in his office, Father began to talk on his favorite subject, poetry. Simply and clearly he stated his ambition: Very early in my career I set out to attempt the perfect wedding of sense and sound . . . If a man has the ability in word, music, and thought, why not express the greatest thought in the most musical way?U In Gilmary', this ambition, we believe, has surely been realized. - ELEANOR JACOMET '43 Often we have wondered, when others have criticized Edgar Allan Poe, why, if his poems aren't good, do we waste our time studying him? Father answered this by explaining that Poe had the per- fect expression of rhyme and rhythm, but that his poems lack that deeper meaning utterly essential for truly great poetry. Father said, HI was always sad that Poe had nothing to say, and that lesser poets said things so unmusicallyf' According to Father Dunne, Father Abram Ryan, the poet priest of the South, occupies one of the highest places in American literature. HFathe1' Ryan has written one of the three greatest lyrics in the English language, I would not say his f'Song of the NIystic is the third greatest, nor the greatest, but it is one of the three greatest ever written in Englishf, For years Father Ryan has been neglected-chiefly because of the lack of material concerning his life- -but now he is coming into his own. It was interesting to learn that Louis J. lVIaloof of the New Orleans Times Picayuneu has been gathering material on Father Ryan and now has enough for several volumes. He expects to pub- lish the life of Father Ryan in the summer of 1943. I put my benefactor literally 'on the spot' when I asked him to name his favorite poem in Gilmary. In com- mon with every other writer, he ac- knowledged that he possesses a fatherly feeling toward all his poems-still, he tried to pick a favorite. After leafing through the volume, pausing now and then to read a few lines, he admitted he had a tender spot for K' lOknoi. I felt I was a poet after writing this, he said. 'Oknoiu deals with the scrupulous soul and will not for this reason, per- haps, have a universal appeal for the general public. No one can fail, how- ever, to recognize the philosophy, the CContinued on page 44D 6 THE SCROLL

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I know it's a big mistake, but here I gof' The band sounded wonderful to Fran, and with all the- sweet, swingy notes went her resolution. When the dance was over there was no time for speeches. She could do her other assignments in the morning, but, oh, the poor speech. Nine o'clocked loomed. Time for her speech and the speaker, speechless. Nervously she walked into speech class. The professor called her name. Silence! Do you have your speech, Frances? No, sirln 'fYou will give your speech privately, be-fore December twenty-fifth, or you will not receive your credit. I shall hear you tomorrow at ninell' There she was. She had to have the credit. She had planned on taking the five-thirty, this evening. Now she' would have to take the eleven o'clock in the morning, and hope there was a formal still unsold in town. That night Fran worked hard, deter- mined to give the mightiest speech of her career. She set her alarm for eight o'clock so she could go over her speech and report on schedule. The n,e'Xt morning the alarm didnlt go off on time. At eight forty-five Fran jumped out of bed, rushed around frantically, and at nine-one reached the speech room. A note addressed to her rested on the desk. It stated that lNIr. Forest would meet Fran at ten o'clock for her speech. That didnlt bother her as it gave her a little time to go over it. It was ten o'clock and no one ap- peared. The train left at eleven oyclock. Fran had to get a new formal. Ten o'clock-no teacher. Ten-thirty-at last Dir. Forest entered. Fran went through her speech with flying colors, and when she reached her room, she could hear the train dancing on the rails toward home. The next train left at fiveethirty. Well, there was no doubt about it, she would wear the blue formal and like it. At five-thirty Fran boarded the train and started on what seemed an eternal ride-. She reached home and slowly made her way upstairs to her bedroom. She went to get the blue formal. The dress was gone! She ran downstairs. Yes, her mother had given it away, Hbecause they needed it in the school play and Fran had declared she could never wear it again. f'Oh, why was I ever born 7' lamented Fran, tears rolling down her face. This question remained unanswered, for just then the phone rang. The voice on the other end was full of apology: f'Frannie, Ilm awfully sorry I have to tell you this, but I-broke my ankle skating, and I canlt take you to the dance. Are you mad FU The Wind When the wind begins to blow, The trees bend to his conznzand. And when he is still, Plow proud and straight they stand. Lihe millions of slaves, hypnotized by his strength, They how and sway their trunks, their length. He twists and turns their branehy arms In cities, in valleys, on plains and on fllflllf. dll over the world the wind can express The way he feels through the trees' helplessness. - JEANNETTE TRERIBLAY '45 EE THE SCROLL 5

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As 'No 0t!1er Muff. .. And we drank his health with honours For he done us fvery proud. Forty Singing Seai1zen -Noyes. Yes, proud was I that it fell to my very privileged lot to interview the eminent poet, critic, novelist, and lec- turer, Doctor Alfred Noyes, speaker on the INIary Manse College Alumnae lec- ture series on October 17. Before my meeting with him I imagined the famous man a somewhat formidable personality. Is it any wonder then, that I feared I might, with mean- ingless sputterings, enlarge upon my stupidity at any moment while question- ing so learned a gentleman? What effect do you think this war will have on literature in general?y' I queried, marveling that I still had breath enough to address him. That's a hard question to answer, because it depends largely on what effect it will have on the peopleg but I feel safe in saying that it will do one of two things: Either produce more vile and evil literature, which will in time lead to another war, or it will definitely im- prove. I do not think there will be any middle coursely' My next question was, 'KWhat is your favorite sport, Doctor? 'KWell, I havenlt had too much time to follow any sport, but I used to be quite good on my rowing team, you know. I quickly sensed that I had provoked a secret pleasure and, with that as a cue, I continued to ask about favorites. This led to the inevitable, 'fWho is your favorite American author? HEmerson is by far the best, much better than Edgar Allan Poe,', he stated with a chuckle. Many writers favor a certain one of their works, but it is not necessarily that which the public interprets as the H -- MARY ANN VOLLMAYER '43 author's best. Alfred Noyes is not ex- cepted in thisg for when I asked him what he considered his best work, he said emphatically, The Torch Bearers by far. I took ten years to write this, and only ten hours to write The High- wayrnan and everyone reads the latter. lNIy great wish is that some day students will discover The Torch Bearers, and that it will be read in every classroom. By now my time was running short and my final question was not yet sub- mitted. K'What type of literature',', I asked quickly, would you suggest for students who wish to follow a literary career? I would suggestfl he began, that they read as much as possible of Tenny- son, Stevenson, eve-n some of Chester- ton, and of course, Emerson. And by no means would I have them read any of this 'mucky modern poerty'! Reluctantly I rose to leave. Doctor Noyes shook my hand and I thanked him for his time. Had I been one of the poet's Forty Singing Seamen, I would certainly have drunk his health with honours, for Alfred Noyes 'chad done me very proud! U Alfred Noyes THE SCROLL 7