St Josephs Academy - La Lumiere Yearbook (Prescott, AZ)

Page 14 text:

i5 ACADEMY CHIMES. in one corner, a starch-box on which was placed a candle-stick and a few cracked dishes, and one chair without a back. The word “ poverty ” was written everywhere. On the bed, which was spread with clean but poor covering, lay a child about two years old. The poor little thing was pale and wan and looked as though his life was ebbing fast. My heart went out in sympathy to the young mother, for she appeared as though she had once been accustomed to different surroundings. She tenderly lifted the babe and kissed and soothed him as well as she could, speaking to him in baby language. Very soon a man came in and I jumped at the con- clusion that he was the child’s father. I will pass over those sad weeks of the child’s illness. The Angel of Death hovered over the desolate home, but the little life was spared and one day, when he was convalescent, his mother gave me to him. He took great delight in me. I was his constant companion and only plaything. I grew to love him, and, indeed, I love him yet, though I have marks on me made by that young rascal’s teeth. After a time, his mother noticing his fondness for me, told her husband of it and he bored a hole through me and drew a string through it, and I hung suspended from that urchin’s neck for months. Many a time my life was in jeopardy as the horrid boy dangled me over the porch railing, yet I esteemed myself happy in being the only treasure he possessed and was content to remain in that com- fortless home for ever—if needs be. One sunny afternoon the little fellow dropped me out of the window into the street and I was carried away with the rubbish. A Chinaman passing by, with a bundle of clothes on his head, spied me. Ching Lee put down his load and looked cautiously around, but there was no one in sight. Assured that the coast was clear, he uttered a cry of joy, sprang forward and picked me up. “ Me fin’ him out! ” he exclaimed exultingly. “ No likee oder Chineeman know. Heap good place. Heap plenty money in dirt pile. Me know vely fine place fin’ money. Takee him glocely store. Me come back to-molla, Fliday, Satu’day.” So saying he set out for the “ glocely store ” to dispose of me for some opium or some other equally odious stuff, but the shrewd grocer re- fused me in my present mutilated con- dition, and I shall doubtless spend the remainder of my days in Ching Lee’s pantaloon pocket, and as long as he keeps me there he will never be out of money. Inez Morrison, ’oi. EMPLOYMENT 15 ENJOYMENT. Labor is Heaven’s great law for human improvement. Honest, earnest, willing work is not only a duty, but it is the only road to success in any path of life. Men of leisure have never conferred great blessings upon the world. Regular labor drives away evil thoughts and prevents evil deeds, while it incites good thoughts and develops power to perform good deeds. It makes men in- dependent and self-reliant and secures real contentment. Work, whether com- pulsory or of choice, is a blessing, and every one should select some field of labor as the theater of his improve- ment. Every day observation shows us that no idle, selfish person is as happy as a busy, energetic, unselfish one. Let us look around the class-room. Which pupil is happiest? Surely she who

Page 13 text:

ACADEMY CHIMES. 15 basement, where I came in contact with many clumsy tools, of which the hammer was my greatest enemy. My new owner, too, persisted in “ sitting on me,” an abuse that any one will resent, whether we use the expression in a literal or a figurative sense. The next evening quite a number of his friends assembled in the basement at one of their club meetings, which, as I soon found out, was a newly organized body. I felt rather distinguished, as my owner was president of the club. Soon they took up a collection and I heard him exclaim : “ Well, boys, I lack one cent to make the amount due.” Then a bright idea struck him. He remembered the cent he had put on his work-table. He took the lamp and with his companions searched for me. I was readily found, but as they looked me over, they were rather dubious as to whether I’d do, but finally they agreed that I could be put in the collection box on the condition that he (my owner) would give a substitute for me at the next meeting. I was placed in a bag made of chamois skin, which the treasurer kept under his mattress. Here I remained for about two months, when one day they decided that they would have the pennies changed for silver; thereupon we were all taken to the drug-store, and the ever-accommodating clerk, in exchange, gave them two silver dollars. The soda-water clerk then took me out of the drawer and gave me to “ a sweet girl graduate.” I may be pardoned for judging, but I quickly concluded that the young lady in ques- tion was not the clerk’s sister, though it is quite likely that she has since told the poor boy, in soothing terms, that she would be a “sister” to him, when he tried in vain to picture his life without her, and each time produced only a blank. Trials enter into mortals’ lives as well as into metals’, and mine had only commenced. The dear girl gave me and four other pennies to a street car conductor, who handled me rather roughly and looked me over before taking me. I was very soon given to a washer-woman on the car who was taking home a weekly washing, and now I began to realize that the world was a hard place to live in. While in this poor, humble dwelling I learned many lessons of sacrifice and resignation. I was next given to a peddler, who placed me in a dirty leathern bag, but he got rid of me pretty soon at the house across the way, where the servant girl was a little uncertain as to my worth. That night I was taken to the post-office, and the girl purchased some stamps with my companions and my- self. There I was placed writh a pile of pennies, but being on top was soon given to a shop-girl and went as far as the elevated railroad station with her, where she paid one-fifth of her car fare with me. The conductor accidentally dropped me on the floor in the super- intendent’s office and I stayed under the desk for weeks, till one day I was rescued by the office boy and put into his pocket, which was full of tobacco, etc.—anything but a pleasant abode. He did not seem anxious to part from me. I was put into his “Sunday suit ” pocket, and dropped in the collection box at church. After the services I was transferred to the pocket of the worthy clergyman. I was happy here, and sel- dom disturbed, felt quite at home. Hav- ing remained about three weeks, I thought I had at last ended my wander- ings. One day his house-keeper came into tell the good Padre that one of his very poor dependants was at the door asking for money. My heart was in my mouth for fear I should at last be disposed of in charity. My suspense was soon at an end when, much to my chagrin, the good pastor poured the contents of his pocket into the woman’s hand and, of course, I went with the rest. She expressed her gratitude and went on her way rejoicing. She took us through a crowded street and into one of the shabbiest houses, up the rickety stairs to the fifth floor of a tenement house, where she turned to the right and opened a door. Inside all was cheer- less—the room absolutely destitute of furniture, with the exception of a bed

Page 15 text:

ACADEMY CHIMES. 17 studies faithfully and willingly and per- forms her tasks in an intelligent, con- scientious and cheerful manner. Now glance at her sleepy seat-mate. School life for her is dull and dreary, and the idler folds her hands and indolently waits for something to turn up or, if she rouses herself from her ennui, it is to write or speak in sympathy with “The Man With the Hoe,” or “The Girl With the Mop,” or some other pessimistic theorist. In the school room, if any where, the old adage applies in all it force—“Labor ipse voluptas.” Throughout the past few months we have felt the stimulus arising from a united and generous spirit of labor. We have realized that we can never succeed until we learn to love our work. What seemed an utter impossibility to us at the beginning of the academic year has by earnest effort and dint of perseverance, become not only possible, but an accomplished fact. When the wide prospect of an immense field of labor confronted us in Septem- ber we almost dispaired of ever accom- plishing such a vast work. Yet we have advanced steadily day by day, and what seemed well nigh hopeless has been achieved. To-day we gaze with the deepest emotion retrospectively upon that portion of the field we have already reaped and garnered, and draw much pleasure from the knowledge that it is with the Divine Assistance, due mainly to our own industry. “ Nothing,” says Reynolds, “ is denied well directed labor, and nothing is to be obtained without it.” There is dignity in labor of the hand as well as of the bead, in labor to provide for bodily wants of individual life, as well as to promote some enter- prise of worldly fame. Labor clears the forest, drives the plow and scatters seeds, reaps the harvest, grinds the corn and converts it into bread, the staff of life. Those who are tempted to cease from labor and trust to luck should remember the following proverbs : Luck is waiting for something to turn up. Labor, with keen eyes and strong will, will turn up something. Luck lies in bed and wishes the post- man would bring him a legacy. Labor turns out at 6 o’clock and with a busy pen or threaded steel lays the foundation of competence. To feel that we have a great deal to do is a cause for thankfulness, and it is a mistake to think that we could do better work if we had more time to de- vote to it, for it is generally when we are busiest that we do our best. The less one has to do, the less he wants to do. He who is willing to give himself to a noble work, whether it be intellect- ual or menial, who is ready to sacrifice himself in all that his avocation de- mands, has the reasonable assurance that, by diligence and earnest devotion, he is contributing to the stability of this grand republic. We, who are standing in the day- break of a new century, must remem- ber that the young people of to-day are determining the issues of coming generations. The various activities of life call for the brain, muscle, nerve and virtue of the young as never before. Strength of mind, heart, life, character, soul, are demanded. Let us, then, go forward. Let us see that this great ordinance of Heaven be not broken down. Let us glory in the hard hands that have been scarred with service more honorable than that of war. Toil of the brain, of the heart, or of the hand, is the only true nobility, the secret of success and an inexhaustible source of contentment and happiness. Loretta Ford, ’00.