St Josephs College - Footprints Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

Text from Pages 1 - 104 of the 1926 volume:

FOOTPRINTS 1926 Footprints St. Joseph ' s College for Women PUBLISHED BY The Senior Class Vo lume Seven Contents PAGE Prologue 5 I EDIC TI . 6 A De vde i Retrospect 7 Father 9 Tin. Witching Hour 10 Evolution of the Cap ind Gown 12 Wanted — More Degrees 15 Tin Fourth Dimension 16 Prayer — A Poem 16 The Oi km of Venice 17 Doors 19 Franz Schubert 21 I in Indian ' s Speli 23 Thomas a Becket 25 Class History 27 vrii inettes 29 Tim Lorelei 1 Poetry of 1950 52 Reminiscences of Camp Life 34 Dance of the Golden Glow — A Poem 55 Class Wili 56 1 him: Things 38 Results 39 Evenings With Madame 41 The Classes 42 Senior 43 Junior 79 Sophomore 80 Freshman 81 . I I IT HER 82 I i MNiE Notes . 83 Ai.rsix.t Directory 86 L ' Envoi S9 A Prologue We stand on the brink of another day, A new life stretches before us, and we gaze Once more on Alma Mater, our wise guide, Who helped us mount the steep ennobling ways. We breathe a prayer and let fall a tear, then With hearts longing for the joys of former days We pass, leaving these traces of our footsteps That some future year may find in our souls An echo of their calm melodious ways. Bernadette M. Garvey, ' 26. TO OUR PARENTS o repay in a measure, the debt we owe you, and to manifest our appreciation of the many sacri- fices made by you in the course of our lives, especially during our college days, we, the class of 192.6, do gratefully and affectionately dedicate this volume. 8? Helyne Straub ' 26 A Decade — in Retrospect TEN years have passed since St. Joseph ' s College first saw. through the mist of uncertainty, its rising star, its raison d ' etre — the moulding of Catholic womanhood for the greater glory of God. With this end in view, the College was formally dedicated on October first, with its founder, Bishop McDonnell, as its first president and Sister Celestine as its first Dean. In those early days, the College Buildings were the little wooden house on Washington Avenue. It was not until 1918, when the College was to prepare for the matriculation of its third class that our present home on Clinton Avenue was purchased. The evolution of this building from one of the gorgeous mansions of Brooklyn to the diocesan Catholic College, is one of the most marvelous accomplishments of the first Faculty. The struggle for existence during those earl) years was unquestionably uphill work. Those in charge, always conscious that each new step was only an experiment to he carried on against overpowering odds, neverthe- less managed by a series of checks and balances to reduce chaos to order and system in government, lint the many moments of failure and disap- pointment must have been discouraging and depressing. However, in June, 1920, when the members of the pioneer class — the twelve Apostles of St. Joseph ' s — were ready to receive their degrees, the toil and hardship of tin- past were completely forgotten in present joy and gladness. The happiness occasioned by that first Commencement is one of the sweetest pages in the College history, for then only did St. Joseph ' s compel diocesan recognition and make secure its place as an educational institution. The Facultj at that time consisted of eleven members. How interesting a com- parison between that and the present number, which shows an increase almost in proportion to that of graduates. Equally interesting is the fact that of the pioneer group there still remain five as professors in the St. Joseph ' s of today. The first great change in the Faculty took place in the summer of 1920 when Doctor Molloy of the Philosoph) Department was made Auxiliary Bishop i Brooklyn. While the College rejoiced at the distinction conferred upon its beloved professor, it regretted that the new duties necessitated his resignation from the Faculty. Father Dillon was then appointed by Bishop .McDonnell to succeed Bishop Molloy. In 1921, thi ' entire College was saddened by the death of its President. That this was truly a great loss everyone understood. For five years, the Bishop had labored hard and well that the College might reach the posi- tion which it occupied at his death. It was consoling, however, to know- that he had lived to see the fulfillment, in great measure, of his dreams an d the fruition of his labors. With Bishop Molloy ' s appointment as Bishop McDonnell ' s successor, came his subsequent assumption of the office of I ' resident of St. Ji iseph ' s I olli Meanwhile, the College was steadily progressing, as was proved by the increasing numbers in each successive Freshman class. When the present Seniors entered, the college register numbered one hundred. How gratified . sister Sacred Heart, then our Registrar, was when she announced this fact! And how gratifying the contrast in numbers brought about in three short years. From all indications, one hundred will very soon mean not the college but the Freshman register. Scholastically, too. the College was proving successful, for each year St. Joseph ' s girls were leaving in steadily growing numbers to take their places in the world ' s professions. At the same time, they were bringing glory to their Alma Mater by their exemplary li . The winter of 1923 brought us again into the darkness of death. Sister Celestine, one of the founders of the College and its Dean for almost seven years, went to her reward in January of that year. Once again the College was faced with the serious problem of finding a successor to fill a gap. Shortly after. Sister Sacred Heart was chosen as Dean. How delighted we were, when we returned in tin- fall of 1923, to find that the long-promised annex in the rear of 245 was actually under construction ! Delight was augmented by pride in the growth and progress which had made the new building absolutely necessary for the College. A Greater St. Joseph ' s was the goal toward which we were all working, and this was the first definite step in that direction. Of course. ' 26 then in Sophomore Year, felt all the thrill of active co-operators in the great work. On St. Joseph ' s Day, 1924, the College Chapel, made possible by the larger quarters, was dedicated by Bishop Molloy, and the room where once we had danced and made merry became the Shrine of the Divine Presence. We were grateful indeed for this blessing and privilege which was to be a source of solace and inspiration to us all. The growing numbers in the student body now made it imperative that the Faculty be correspondingly increased. Heretofore, some provision had been made but it was inadequate for the demand and so the situation had not been greatly relieved. It was not until the fall of 1925, when the teaching staff was practically trebled that conditions were bettered. Sister Sacred Heart ' s position as Dean was taken over by Sister Angeline. Numerous additions throughout the various departments made possible the carrying on of the work of education in a suitable manner. On this, its tenth birthday, the College can rightfully boast of many things accomplished. It has triumphantly passed the formative stage and is now functioning as a recognized Catholic College. Expansion in every direction has taken place. Gradually but definitely, student government is superseding faculty management, while the students themselves are proving worthy of this great trust. Besides, the purchase of our newest building on Clinton Avenue gives evidence of still further growth and betterment. Its occupation by the students at the beginning of the new semester was indeed a milestone in our history. In that mass of stone and wood lie the fulfillment of dreams, the consummation of hopes, the inspiration for future glory and achievement. In addition, the student register now numbers two hundred and forty-live, despite the fact that many applicants have been denied admission. The standard of scholarship has also been raised so that under the new regulations, admission to and graduation from St. Joseph ' s College have come to mean more than mediocre ability and earnestness. Beyond a doubt, much has been accomplished. St. Joseph ' s girls are representing her in almost every field, as the religious, the mothers, doctors, teachers and lawyers of the race. This speaks well indeed for the past. But the task does not end there; much still remains to be done. What the future will bring rests, to a great extent, in the hands of us of the present. The road is still long and wearisome, but, spurred on by the accomplishments of our predecessors, we cannot fail. We must continue onward toward the realization of the ideal which gave birth to St. Joseph ' s, our Alma Mater. GENEVIEVE D ' ALBORA, ' 26. ■4 8 } - Fatl ier SLOWLY, almost imperceptibly, there has been developing within us an understanding of one to whom we arc- immeasurably indebted; but even yet we do not fully know him, our Father. That knowledge with its accompanying joys awaits future years. lie is like some golden hunk, some rare, great lunik whose pages breathe of noble sentiments, whose every chapter speak- some tale of unselfish denial, some valiant deed. In childhood the cover attracted us, its pictures fascinated our beauty-loving eyes. Dumbly we felt their sympathy, their kindliness. Somehow, in an incomplete way we knew that he comforted us. We sensed that his was a protecting influence, but the reason for our eon- tented feeling of security within his loving arms we could not know, we could not understand, we did not even suspect. With the later years we learned to read intelligently this golden volume. We supplemented our childhood impressions with the storj its pages told. We read between the lines and stood amazed at the revelations made to us. The sun of understanding shed its gleam over the hidden mysteries, and under its guiding light we came to an appreciation of the magnanimity of his character. For the first time we realized the extent of his wisdom. For the first time we forgave him for his seeming severity. We now knew that he did all things that our happiness might not know the shadows of youthful error. Stirred by the heroism unsung, yes, even concealed by the modest hero, we found his life the more beautiful because- of its seeming mediocricity. And we see with each succeeding year some new work, some deeper meaning in this hook, this man whom we call Father. We how our heads in awe as we discover his calm mastery of stupendous problems, his quiet acceptance of mighty responsibilities, ami his brave renunciation of what he holds most dear. Our minds applaud his competence, our heart- worship his courageous dauntlessness. Never despite his grave cares or serious worries, do we find him lacking in sympathy, lie is always read) with a comforting smile, overlooking our weaknesses, soothing our petty troubles with consoling optimism. Nothing that we cherish is too trivial for his careful attention. lie it is who walks cheerily into the bustling throng to withstand the affronts, the snubs, the coldness of associates. All these does he endure gladly that those most dear to him may enjoy the comfort which such sacrifices purchase. He faces the world and builds therein a name — the name by which the woman whom he loves is called; the name that for his chil- dren ' s sake must remain untarnished. He is always the valiant protector, tin- steadfast tower of love, ever seeking that which may increase the happiness of his loved ones. The filial love between father and daughter is a world-wide theme in soiiy and story. Were it never recorded, it is written deep in the hearts oi the daughters whose expression of filial devotion is feebly uttered in the dedication of this volume. Father — what tender memories that word evokes! What strength, what sacrifice, what pride, that word connotes! And as it is expressed now in heartfelt gratitude and filial devotion, it stirs the heart with a love that is all its own. Father. May that name ever be filled with the memories oi tin tenderness of the years that have gone — and may it be glorified with the inexpressive yearnings of the years to come. P.I RN DKTTK GARVEY, ' 26. « q t The Witching Hour IT all came about in my endeavor to do some supplementary English work. At eleven o ' clock one evening I began dutifully to read a volume of Poe ' s short stories. Quite unconscious of the terrors it contained, I opened the tiny hook and started cheerfully upon the Gold-Bug. This story was not horrible in the extreme, but 1 thought it unpleasant enough and made a mental Deo Gratias for my sister ' s companionable presence in the room. How fortunate for me that I had insisted upon not being left alone in the house that night. Ligeia came next. I am not superstitious, but rather easily impressed, and this story made its impression (quite thoroughly) upon me. It intensi- fied the creepiness brought on by the Gold-Bug. ] was experiencing queer little nervous jerks, and when my sister suddenly rose to announce her intention of retiring, I fairly jumped. This was hardly a strange reaction, since I had just reached the point in the story where Lady Ligeia slowly rose and sat erect on her funeral couch, t requested my sister to stav a little longer, but to no avail. Therefore, too proud to confess my fears. 1 bade her a brave good-night; then alone perused to the end the strange story of the uncanny Ligeia. By this time I was well on toward a state of mental paralysis. The noises in the bedroom upstairs had ceased and a steady tick-tock from the shelf nearby was the only other noise in the room, except, of course, the many supplied by my own imagination. 1 began my next story. It was the Fall of the House of Usher. I read straight through to its terrible end. How depressing this tale seemed to me — and how very real. ' Sickly, old. spectre-like Usher himself might have been sitting on the chair my sister had just vacated, or worse still, on the one directly behind me; I did not know; 1 dared not look: vet I fancied I could hear him breathing. My thoughts scampered wildly about my mind. My heart pounded. I was too afraid almost to blink an eye, lest in that brief instant somebody, or something, might slip into the room unnoticed. Hardly conscious now of what I was doing, I forged ahead into another of these terrors — The Pit and the Pendulum. It was a tale of the Inquisition, teeming with atmosphere of the chilling sort. The black dungeon, the condemned man. the bottomless pit of a thousand rats and dank odors — all these oppressed me so that I despaired of ever again reach- ing the comfortable world in which I had spent so many happy years. Rut somehow, when the captive noticed the pendulum hanging far above his head, I was remotely reminded of the timepiece in the room. This (if memory served me right) was accustomed to tell the correct hour. I glanced up timidly at the familiar old clock and noted that it was fifteen minutes to one. I went on with my story. The huge pendulum in the tale began to swing to and fro and to descend proportionately. I began sub- consciously to associate the clock-ticks with my story. Each one served to accentuate the ominous and relentless descent of the pendulum. I looked again at the clock and. could it be true, it was now only twenty minutes to one. But perhaps I had not remembered the hour correctly. I continued reading. Down, down came the pendulum. Soon it would swing low enough to slash the serge above the captive ' s heart — and on the next stroke to graze the flesh beneath! The helpless man grew delirious at the thought of his impending fate. I read on for two more pages and still the pendulum had not reached its mark. I looked again at the clock. It was now only twelve-thirty! 4 t 10}; Horrors! Had my fears made me a subject of hallucinations? Could it be that my mind was no longer able to Eunction correctly? If I remem- bered rightly, the hands of the cluck were known to move not backward. hut forward! And yet, in this land of new experience they apparently moved backward. But nonsense, this could not be! 1 shuddered and roused myself a little from this lethargy of fear. My story was forgotten. I could do nothing but gaze steadfastly at the clock. The fiendish little instrument, though it continued to tick, now showed no perceptible motion of its hands. I could not tcdl what was wrong but, nevertheless. I sat very still hoping that this abnormal state would soon pass. My eyes burned painfull}- during the strained intervals between blinks. I kept them riveted on the clock. Finally, after what seemed hours, I heard the front door being noisily opened. The folks were returning from their night of pleasure. How quickly they broke my silly spell. Everything seemed quite friendly and natural again. The far corners of the room no longer suggested eerie sounds but rather reverberated with laughter and noise. I was greeted with surprise. (But why should they not express surprise at seeing me alive and well after what had befallen me in those few hours?) 1 ventured a timid remark about the clock. It was promptly taken down from the shelf and examined. As is usually the case with such phenomena. the explanation of this incident was almost shamefully simple. The minute hand of the clock had become loosened from its pivot and, instead of moving ahead, it slipped gradually backward until it reached the lowest point on the face, namely, the half-past mark. Consequently, though the small hand went ahead a trifle, the large one remained at this lowest point, motionless. EILEEN McLOUGHLIX. ' 27. M Evolution of the Cap and Qown WITH noticeable lack of logic, educators have perennially decried the fact that the Catholic Church is opposed to learning. In truly para- doxical fashion, actions betray, or at least play havoc with, con- victions. If Mother Church has stilled the glowing spark of education, why cherish memories, nay even monuments, of her lack of wisdom? Why adopt, unfalteringly, those things which serve to disprove the thesis defended? If the progress of learning owes its uninterrupted course to other agents than Religion, why not adopt some of the relics of these agents? Why wear caps, gowns and hoods? They savor of religion; they were borrowed from ecclesiastical dress of medieval times. They stand as monumental proofs of the innocence of the Roman Church in regard to educational sterility. Caps, gowns and hoods — now so familiar as to be almost commonplace, were not always so. The first traces of education in class fashion, date back to the Cathedral or Monastic schools of the seventh century. These schools, saviors of learning (for barbarianism seemed destined to wipe it out), were conducted by the only learned men of the time, the clergy. Though these Cathedral schools were but harbingers of medieval universities (which were founded to meet the increased demand for higher education) they gave to the universities a splendid model of organization. The practice of granting academic degrees was begun by the Univer- sities of Paris and Bologna. The term bachelor, adopted in the thirteenth century, signified that a student had passed certain tests. The master degree signified only the license to teach. The emancipation from bachelor- hood, the time when a student was duly licensed to teach, was signified by a ceremony in which the instructor placed a birettum or cap on the head of the future master. It is said that the present day custom of conferring a hood for a degree had its origin in this practice. The history of the term doctor is uncertain. In the twelfth century the University of Bologna granted the degree of Doctor of Law. and at the same time the University of Paris conferred the degree of Doctor of Divinity. It was only natural (and this is the unqualified statement of both non- Catholics and Catholics) that the universities should preserve, as academic dress, an adaptation of the monastic habit — the wide robe, with its cowl or hood. The privilege of wearing such gowns as a mark of profound learning, limited at first to Doctors of Divinity, was later extended to students. Hoods, attached to the gowns, did not signify rank in learning. Not until the fifteenth century was an important step taken along this line. A disinction was made between lower and higher ranks. Hoods were separ- ated from the gowns and a border of color was added. A difference in length of gowns was also noted — the Master ' s gown being longer than the bachelor ' s. Doctorate, the highest rank, was signified by a small round cap with pointed front, an outgrowth or rather a replica of the ecclesias- tical cap worn over the tonsure. Since it is to England, Germany, and America that we owe most of our knowledge of the evolution of present-day academic dress, we shall consider the history and present status of the academic costume in these countries only. The best known universities of the British Isles have never adopted a uniform system of academic dress. Cambridge has clung to the seventh century type of dress even to the present day, with undergraduates ' costumes differinc; but slightly from Masters ' and Doctors ' costumes. The -4 12 )§►••- saint- type iif hood is often given for different degrees. Cambridge gives a scarlet gown and hood, the hood faced with pink, for D.D., LL.I).. and M.I). Cine is amazed cm seeing a gathering of English university men, for what the degrees are, and what universities have conferred them are difficult matters to decide unless one is familiar with the system of each university. In America, the country must familiar to us. it has long been the custom for jurists. Doctors of Divinity and officials of universities, t wear Mack silk robes. Academic costume has not long keen considered an important issue. It was but recently that there was inaugurated a move- ment to establish a uniform system of academic dress in America. At first it was limited only to students graduating. Then students decided to wear caps and gowns fur commencement. When the members of the faculties noted the democratic yet dignified air which caps and gowns lent, they encouraged the practice and in fact adopted this dress themselves. The notion spread, until now. at leading American universities and colleges, the cap and gown are used not only for commencement but also other occasions. Today, in most colleges, students are compelled to wear caps and gowns when appearing in official capacity. An intercollegiate commission, sum- moned in 1894 to adopt a distinctive costume, has left us the present simple, adaptable code which regulates shapes of gowns and colors of h Is. They adopted these types of gowns : 1. Doctors — Silk gown; full, round, open sleeve which may be faced with velvet. The color of trimming on the sleeve must correspond with that on the hood. _ ' . Masters -Silk gowns with long closed sleeve, square at the end. with a slit for the arm. 3. Ikichelors - I ' .lack , worsted material with long pointed sleeves. The uniform cap for all degrees is the Oxford cap or mortar-board, with a black tassel. The practice of moving the tassel to denote advance, is not mentioned in the commission ' s work. The only variation in the type of tassel worn is shown in the privilege given a doctor to wear a gold tassel. Moods, the most important and distinctive feature of the American scheme, have an interesting system. In order to combat the difficulty which the English system presents, a simple color scheme was arranged. The basic color is black. Bachelors ' and Masters ' hoods are Oxford style. Masters ' being a little longer than Bachelors ' . Doctors ' hoods are made with a panel. A colored band, about five inches wide, on the outer edge, indicates the degree. The lining of the hood signifies the college or university conferring it. In case a college has more than one official color, one color is used as a lining for the hood and a chevron of the other color is laid on this lining. For example, the colors nf Princeton are orange and black. The lining of the hood is orange; a black chevron or bar is laid on the orange. The colors signifying the various faculties or branches of learning have historical associations : 1. White, for Arts and Letters, from the white fur trimming of Oxford and Cambridge B.A. hoods. _ ' . Red. traditional color of the Church throughout all ages, for Thee ' li igy. 3. Royal purple, of Kings ' Court, for Law. 4. Green, color ol herbs, for Medicine. 5. Blue, color of wisdom and truth, for Philosophy. 4 1 3 j3 6. Golden yellow, signifying that wealth has been added to the world, for Science. 7. Blue, Oxford color, for Music. 8. Olive, for Pharmacy. 9. Russet, for Forestry. In German universities, we note the strange fact that the hood is never used or given when a degree is conferred. German professors, teaching in America, have a special system for signifying their Alma Mater. They wear hoods lined with the official color of the German university from which they were graduated. On this lining is laid a triangular chevron of black, white and red. For example, a purple lining with a black, white and red chevron, signifies the University of Berlin, green lining with this chevron signifies University of Cherbourg, light blue, Munich, and red, Heidelberg. Caps and gowns and hoods are significant not so much because they are outward expressions of learning, as that they emphasize the existence of a true, the only true, democracy, that of learning. Whenever I see a group in caps, gowns and hoods. I wonder whether this democracy of learning is really appreciated. Could there be so many unbelievers, agnostics, and atheists among this group had they with time and open minds, delved into the facts of historical sciences, especially that of the history of the Roman Catholic Church? Toiling under false colors, true to untruth, how can they, rational beings, fail to see the light? They are debtors to Mother Church for the fact that there is such an institution as learning. They are indebted, even for their outward expression of erudition, to ecclesiastics. Yet they claim that the Church and learning are two human organizations which always have been, and always will continue to be irreconcilable. AGNES McSHAXK, ' 26. 4 14 r - Wanted — More Degrees IF there is any accomplishment you would like to acquire, college is the place for you. Not having wide experience, I cannot vouch for every college, but I am sure that St. Joseph ' s provides the broadest training possible. Ostensibly you come to college for a degree, usually in arts; and if you are an earnest and thorough student, success will probably crown your efforts. Yet how many more degrees could, deservedly, be awarded at the close of our college career. In the first place, there is not one of us who would he unable to preside oxer Congress. Long experience with meetings conducted under the most strict observance of Parliamentary Law has made even such an occasion as the above seem nothing. 1 suppose committees for all sorts of events from an athletic meet to one ' s Senior Prom might also be included under this heading. But to my mind it certainly is an art in itself and worthy ot special merit to be able to convince the proprietor of New York ' s most exclusive hotel that a mere reduction of half his price is nothing compared ■ itli the privilege of having his place the scene of a St. Joseph ' s prom. Domestic science, also, holds not tin- least terror for us who have sur- vived a series of college teas and class days. If in years to come the literary market is flooded with hooks on this topic, 1 venture to say that the students of our Alma Mater will form no small percentage of their authors. The various little tricks that form a useful addition to the knowledge of any ■-killed cook are also among our accomplishments. There is not one of us who is not equal to an) emergency from opening cans without the conven tional can opener to that time-honored custom of stretching the soup supply by means of a glass or two of water. And. of course, the art of serving with speed and perfection is quite second nature. Basketball games and lectures naturally bring with them the necessity for colorful decoration, especially in the lunchroom; and so in this way the artistic side of our nature is developed. Hut it is not until Senior year that this all-round training reaches its completion. The Sanctum is the final test the application step, if 1 may call it such, in the lessons of general usefulness. It is certainly a summary of all previous experiences with several new ones for good measure. First of all. there is the acquisition of furnish ings, paint, draperies and cushions -to say nothing of the innumerable inci- dentals sure to crop up at the most unforeseen moments. There really is a decided thrill to purchasing them, although it is as nothing compared with the feeling of gratitude that comes when some very public spirited parent decides to do his share towards furnishing our room o ' dreams by a most welcome contribution of cretonne, paint or rugs. f course the most exciting time is during the painting. For obvious reasons, the particular brighl blue of Twenty-Six ' s Sanctum will be ever present in our memories, or at any rate, as long as most of our wearing apparel is in existence. Really, there seems to be no limit to the opportunities a college course at St. foseph ' s offers for acquiring general, useful knowledge. Our onlj regret — and time may dissolve even that — is that, through some oversighl oi the Faculty, all the labor and time expended on these courses is not rewarded by degrees. M ( RKT CROWLEY, ' 26. ■ 4 1 5 f - The Fourth Dimension IF you were to tell someone that a flexible sphere might be turned inside out without tearing, that an object might be removed from a closed room without penetrating the walls and that the links of a chain might be separated unbroken, he would say Impossible, Absurd. No more so than is the idea that the earth is round or that it revolves about the sun. These tacts are as contradictory to the senses as are the former and yet they are accepted as established facts. So, too, as time goes on, perhaps, the idea of a fourth dimension may be received with equal credulity. It is impossible to form a mental picture of the fourth dimension. To gain a partial idea of it one must resort to analogy with dimensions of a lower order. By imagining two-dimensional beings living in a plane and incapable of understanding our world of three dimensions, we get an idea of our relation to the world of four dimensions. Suppose we place a two- dimensional being, a flatlander, in a circle. He would go all around the circle but finding it closed would despair of getting out, as we would, locked in a closed cell. But we of the third dimension could step over the boundary to the outside o! the circle. In like manner, if we place a four-dimensional being within the six walls of a cell, he could get out without breaking ceiling, walls or floor. He could do it as easil) as we pass over the circle — so won- derful to our friend in llatland. We might call the space enclosed within the fourth dimension hyperspace. The question now arises, bias ' hyperspace ' a real physical existence? If so. our world must have a slight extension in the fourth dimension, other- wise it would be nothing but a shadow cast by a more real four-dimensional world. The existence of a slight extension in fourth dimension would simplify many scientific theories. Hyperspace has been brought somewhat into disrepute because the spiritualists have assumed its existence to give a local habitation to their imaginings. Nevertheless, no one has yet found the possibility of its existence to be in conflict with any scientific fact, and the limit of space to three dimen- sions is therefore empirical. MARGARET JOHNSTON, ' 26. Prayer I wandered through the moonlit woods alone. The night was still: no leaf stirred in a breeze. A pond I sought, but. in its place I found A pool of liquid moonlight ' mid the trees. And while I gazed, a dazzling angel came Bearing on high, a star bedimmed, once bright, And dipping ' neath the pool his burden great, He drew from thence a blazing, blinding light. ( )h, God, give me the ever constant will To plunge into Thy ] 1 of living grace. That, shining like another deathless star. I ever may give joy before Thy face. MABEL I. BARTON, ' 26. 16}S -- The Charm of Venice IN all my travels there was nothing more beautiful, more charming, than tin spectacle which greeted m sighl as I first looked upon Venice, the glorious city in the sea. There, before mj ryes stretched thai glistening city of my dreams, a pretty picture upon the sands of the seashore. Her statelj palaces reflected on the gleaming waters, resembled a phantom cit) i ' ii a silver} stream. How solemn, how impressive was the tranquility that wrapped the scene! Travel where I did, neither London nor Paris, neither Berlin nor Rome feasted m vision with such a banquet of beauty. It was the unfolding of a dream, a fairy land made real by art. age and industry. Fancy a cit) ' where tin- silence is unbroken by the tread of horses or the rumbling of wheels, when- the streets are crossed in boats, and where gondolas drift to merry-makings or to funerals. Such a city is Venice. As 1 alighted from the railroad station into one i these bewitching boats the charm of Venice was alreadv upon me. The gondola swayed to and fro in almost human response to the gondolier ' s rhythmic oar. This was the only sound ' hat broke flic quietness of the scene and left my eye at full liberty to take in the inexhaustible loveliness of color and form. Sa premi. cried the gondolier as he turned the corner, and for a moment all was in confusion. Everywhere were gondolas, gondolas moored at the quay waiting for passengers, gondolas drawn up in front of palaces, and gondolas sweeping down the Grand Canal. All were painted black, in accordance with an ancient law. passed when the decorations of the fascinating water-carriages were becoming too sumptuous for Republican morals. Hut even now man} of them were very elegant. They were long and slender in appearance, with a high, steel pointed beak, oddly shaped and usually fitted out with superb carvings. In striking contrast with these sombre ships were found vessels. in the large canal, with sails of brilliant hues, mostly red and orange. The radiance of these sails and of the bright and grotesque vanes at the mast- heads under sunlight were beyond all painting. As my gondola glided over the great lagoon, the splendor of the spec- tacle impressed me. The buildings that 1 had so fondlj studied in hooks and pictures now rose before me. They far exceeded m expectations, being wonderfully beautiful with their superb architecture and their great variety pf color. One by one the) appeared, the hooded cupolas of St. Mark, the tall Campanile, glittering red in the sun: the Morescoe Palace of the Doges; the gloomy Bridge of Sighs and the dark dungeons to which it leads. The palaces and churches on each side of the water gave the scene a medieval Setting and the illusion was such that as the gondola neared the Rialto I would not have been surprised to have encountered Shylock. The Rialto was formerly the rich business and mone) center of the iil . hut now it has fallen into decay and is used b the poorer classes for simps. I soon learned that the same man who built this bridge also built the Bridge of Sighs. There is a world of sentiment around this beautiful hut gruesome link connecting the State prisons with the Doge ' s Palace. Prisoners who crossed it never saw the light of day again. They spent their remaining days in dark and damp cells which would make the saddest lite in the Free light and air seem bright and desirable. Venice is the city of majestic palaces. It has been said of some oi her larger buildings that they serve as a standard by which the ancient great- ness of Venice itself may he measured. I he principal one is the Palace ol the Doges. This is claimed to he the finest building in the world. Charles { 1 ' i Dickens has described it as a palace mure majestic and magnificent in its old age than all the buildings of the earth in the high prime and fullness of their youth. Its galleries are so delicate that fairy hands might have fashioned them, and yet they are so strong that all the wear and tear of centuries have battered them in vain. Beside this palace stands the cathedral of St. Mark, one of the glories of modern Europe. It has been called the church that can lie neither described nor forgotten. Guarding its portals are the four famous In uses, so important in the chronicles of Venice. This building afforded work for Doge after Doge, and generation after generation its splendor increased. Its shape was altered, its treasures expanded, until, in the beginning of the nineteenth century, the great Napoleon conquered Venice and all operations ceased. Besides possessing one of the richest collections of church articles, its altar is without equal in the universe. In striking contrast to these gigantic structures, are the small shops of the Venetian merchant. What treasures are within their walls! Here I found beautiful Mosaic pieces: there, colored glass moulded into all kinds of shapes, and everywhere. I came upon exquisite, web-like, Venetian lace. One could spend hours wandering through this entrancing maze of shops, looking at the novelties they offer to the casual and curious shopper. Every visitor marvels at the mellow moonlight in Venice, and well he may. for there is nothing on earth so bewitching. You forget the far-off world, that hard, old world with its miseries and misfortunes, and think onl} of love, romance and happiness. In the evening, when the pale moon rises above the horizon, dim lights flicker everywhere, from the moving gondolas to the corner of some quiet courtyard. The lapping of water on the marble palaces does not disturb but rather adds to the tranquility of the night. As one muses on the beauties of the Queen of the Adriatic, there gradually steals across the waters of the Grand Canal the strains of some sweet Italian soul;. Enraptured, I boarded a gondola and was taken to the scene of this melodious music. As I glided nearer, the music increased in volume and the singers raised their voices in heavenly harmony. Many gondolas were clustered around a gaily lighted barge crowded with these Venetian song-birds. Their refrains floated softly on the breeze and each listener held his breath for fear of interrupting the accents so full of tenderness and love. What heart, no matter how cold or hard, would not melt at the sound of such ethereal music? Those whose locks shone silver in the moonlight recalled their past romance and happiness, while youths dreamed and planned for the future. When the moon had finished its course over this phantom- like city, the carefree life once more awoke. The sun. as it rose, cast its bewitching rays on the tinted waters of this beautiful Queen of the Sea. My stav in this charming citv was ended and 1 had to bid. as Cesare Morandi did. To Venice: A Farewell. Venice, farewell, your evening tints arc shed, Soft crimson shadows at this hour you lay I pon each palace now that gleameth red Ere lovelier eve give place to lovely day The lender dawn, the golden moon, soft night, Will ever stay a vision o] delight. No mare an quiet lagoon, by dreamy isle. Shall my gondola there in silence glide; Xo more shall I behold you sadly smile When loveliest tints are gathered an vour tide. The colour, light, t. ' ie dreamy dip of oar .Ire tenderest memories far evermore. HE LEX WEIDEN, ' 26. - 4 1 8 f - Doors I DON ' T know how you feel about it. but doors have a great fascination for me. They arc like visionaries beckoning one to a strange land. They are kindly things, for they light the way to the future and mercifully hide the past unless —well, I suppose some people are unfortunate enough to open doors to skeletons better left forgotten in the cover of night. But then, some people always have a perverse, unhappy faculty of blundering into trouble. Few things express character the way doors do. They are usually very decorous and seem to admirably adapt themselves to fit their surroundings. When you see a heavy, massive, oak door, you always think of it as belong- ing to ;t ponderous stone building. The cathedral door is different from the front door on a suburban home. The former is heavy, cunningly carved and has little slits of windows at the top. It is dark, high and massive, and ter- minates in a graceful point that places it in harmony with its Gothic setting. It is a door made to withstand a battering ram. One can imagine it with a wild, barbaric foe on the outside and within — sanctuary. It shuts a man inside and leaves him alone with his God, while the forces of the world vainly try to enter. The door of the suburban home plainly shows that it is the entrance to the house of man. It is (at least, the one I have in mind is l plain and simple, hut not without its charm. It is made of some nondescript kind of wood and is painted in attractive green and tan panels. At the top of the door is an oblong window frame with eight small panes of glass- very pleasing to the passerby, but the bane of the housekeeper ' - existence, (low tempting are the bright brass door knob and the equally bright knocker! bove the door, there is a number plate bearing phosphorus numbers which are sup- posed to shine at night, hut which never do. somehow, when one has left the dealer ' s shop. This door tells you that there is comfort, peace and security within. It breathes the spirit of the home and Eairl) glows in its own quiet way. It protects the pretty little mother with her happy children. shutting out all intruders and keeping the famih safe and secure within the little home. When the man of the house comes home, it opens readily and greets him cheerily for the little door can love. The palatial city mansion would never he content with such an unsophisticated door. It has its own type and. whenever one sees a grilled door, with its solid, metal frame, its long plate glass, the intricate pattern of the iron work running from the top to the bottom of the frame on the outside of the glass, its dull iron knobs, curiously wrought, it always recalls the dignified city house. It comports itself fittingly among its fashion- able companions — the beautiful stone of the walls, the carefully planned lawn, the broad marble steps. Grilled doors are a luxury and proudlj pro- claim the fact. Consider the mishaps that revolving doors cause. Many a careless traveler has found himself wedged in a door of this type because he foolishly persisted in carrying his suitcase the wrong way. I have seen many a Stranger stand looking helplessly at these relentless doors. Often he would rush at them in much the same manner that Don Quixote attacked the windmill. Sometimes he would give it a gentle push and it wouldn ' t move at all. Then he would exert his full strength — only to have the door spin around so quickly that he wouldn ' t get out at all. These doors arc- cynical things. They sneer at the weak humans who attack them. Their philosophy §| I9fc is a bitter one. They are always trying to get the upper hand and to obtain an unfair advantage. I don ' t like this kind of door. There is another kind of door that is more unpleasant than the revolving door. Think how grim the cold snap of an iron bar door must sound to the criminal. That door stands between him and freedom. Liberty is on the other side of it. How hopeless is the sound of the lock ! The first click of this dour must awaken fear in a criminal ' s heart, no matter how callous he may be. There are many other kinds of doors that we have not considered. A stage door always has a particular significance, even though most of them are made of some cheap wood covered with green baize. They are very commonplace to the passerby, but, to the excited and enthusiastic matinee fans, they seem to be the entrance to a land of romance, a glorified fairy- land. There is a strange glamor about them that is entirely absent from the long, narrow, stately bronze doors that grace some of our dignified public buildings. The latter may be more magnificent, but every fan will find them much less interesting than the dingy, ugly, old stage door. We have by no means exhausted the kinds of doors that exist in our universe. Many of them are famed in song and story. Others have peculiar associations, bitter and sweet, for each one of us. A plain, simple, white door excites thoughts of home and of the love awaiting us there. There is a throb of pity for the gaping window and door. for they offer mute testimony of the house with nobody in it. We have man} ' , many doors with varied purposes. All contain possibilities. Adventure, danger, excite- ment may lurk behind a closed door. A door led Alice to Wonderland — after she had found the magic key. A door may open before us and show us fame. Who knows? And, in that very thrill of uncertainty lies the chief pleasure that doors afford. MARY STACK. ' 27. -4 20 $ - Franz Schubert IT is a sultry afternoon in ugust, 1825. In the garden of a dilapidated Viennese coffee house, seated at a table, are five young revelers, drink- ing, laughing, and singing in the midst of the bustle of a popular tavern. Mugs and dishes arc clattering, children are squalling, roysterers arc shout- ing, waiters are rushing hither and thither, glasses are clinking, and general ci iiifnsii in prevails. The five young revelers are now laughing loudly at a joke which has just been narrated by one of their number whom they address as Franz. As the laughter dies down, it is seen that Franz has been commenting upon a Shakesperian play which he had witnessed the previous afternoon. In his thick, blunt fingers he holds a volume of Shakespeare which he thumbs nervously as his friends laugh and chuckle at his wit. His short, stout body with his low forehead, projecting lips, stumpy nose, and short curly hair. presents an appearance which is fully in harmony with the general riot ami disorder of the inn. Suddenly Franz ' s bulging little eyes light upon some verses in the book at which he has been glancing through his thick spectacles. Turning to lleinrich. who its at his right. Franz says. 1 have a pretty melody in my head for these lines, if I could only get a piece of ruled paper. My dear fellow, says Heinrich, Ruled paper costs money, and having no money. I have no ruled paper; though I truly believe that if I had ruled paper, I should prefer to have money. ud besides, my dear Franz, a clever .schoolteacher like yourself should be able to write on the air. As the others join in Heinrich ' s laughter at this jest. Franz reaches across the table, picks up the menu-card and begins to write quickly with a short stumpy pencil. What Franz Schubert wrote in the midst of all this riot and confusion was the divine melody of Hark. Hark, the Lark, a song which embo one of the most delicate dreams of tenderness that the heart of man might ci mceive. It was with just such sudden inspirations as this that Schubert com- posed most of his masterpieces. In his happy-go-lucky way he would dash iil ' f. on the spur of the moment, a tune that was ringing in his head. Hence, it is not difficult to realize that he excelled in the composing of songs above all other musical forms, to such an extent that he has come to he known as the Father of the Song. Schubert was always poor. He worked hard and suffered much. Even his greatest masterpieces failed to bring enough money to support him. it he kept on producing music in his hasty way. always writing new pieces and never revising old ones, because music consoled him in his misery. Xot having had much schooling, he knew but little of the technique b) which Beethoven and the other composers of his da) found themselves bound. Schubert always adapted his music to the thought of the text which he was using. Hence for him music was purel) an expression of emotion. In this accidental way. and without knowing it. Schubert became a leading exponent of the Romantic School of music, a school which more full) expresses feelings, and hence is not formal and exact as the Classical School. Schubert ' s musical training might he said to have been accidental. B) chance he became an Imperial Chorister when a boy, and by chance a lew friends gave him lodgings in which to live while he produced his many pieces. Salieri, the Italian musician, met and encouraged the hoy in his 6(21)3. musical endeavors, and thus contributed to the majesty of the German music a bit of the more delicate Italian style, producing a combination which is exquisite. In accordance with his romantic character, Schubert wrote rapidly and frequently. He preferred short pieces to long ones, because they more aptly- expressed his momentary moods, his monumental moments. as they have been called. He wrote more than six hundred songs, among which are Hark. Hark, the Lark. The Wanderer. Du Bist Die Ruh, Who Is Sylvia, Ave Maria. The Erlking. Gute X ' acht. and the Winter ' s Journey. These songs perfected the German art-song as it is called, in which the melody predominates, yet has a fitting setting in the accompaniment. Schubert ' s favorite method of variation was to change from a major to a minor, and vice versa. His themes were usually those of love, religion, nature and ecstacy. These were drawn from many sources, especially from the poetry of Goethe and Schiller. But while Schubert ' s songs are his greatest works, he also produced great music of many other types, such as sonatas, variations in 1! flat, masses, arias, waltzes, polonaises, marches, and symphonies — especially his Unfin- ished Symphony in I! minor, and his great Symphony in C major, which has become famous because of its virile rhythm and accent, its scherzo effects, and its fund of melodies exploited in a conversational style between the various instruments rather than by other devices. His operas were never successful because his lyric style was better adapted to shorter pieces, and I).- found it hard to confine his music within the bounds required by the opera, and furthermore, he did not have the necessary knowledge of stagecraft. However, while Schubert often wielded thrilling rhythmic force in his symphonies, it is generally admitted that in the gentler lyric music of his songs he stands supreme. Like all geniuses. Schubert was far in advance of his time. During his lifetime he was almost unrecognized, could rare!} ' sell his compositions, and was usually rebuffed at every step. Yet through all his misfortunes. music was ever his consolation. In his short lifetime of thirty-one years he brought forth over one thousand compositions. When we realize how many of these one thousand works are masterpieces, we can well unite with Beethoven in exclaiming. Certainly here is one who possesses a spark of the divine fire. LOUISE McGOUGH, ' 27. - 4 22 The Indians Spell A BALLAD OF CAPTAIN KIDD The tide comes high and the tide goes low, .liul ever anon thus the full moon rise; And with spades hey come and with spades f li Ihtt they never can pin! where the treasure lies. Two hundred years and more ago When the northeast wind blew free, Hill Kidd. he paced his vessel ' s decks And he says to himself, says he. I ' ve scuttled far and I ' ve scuttled near. And I ' ve got a pile of loot. Now what is a pirate bold to do? And he tapped a thoughtful boot. Oh. Captain Kidd was young and bold, And a gallant man was he. And a pirate brave as a pirate brave That ever sailed the sea. I ' ve guineas and sterling and pieces of eight And nt Spanish coins some score; I ' ve diamonds and rubies, and silver and gold, And jewelry galore. Says he. I ' ll sail on down the sound, For I feel the nor ' east pull. And I ' ll bury my loot at the fairest spot, When the August moon is full. The gold and silver and precious stones He sealed in an iron bound box, And closed the lid and turned the keys Of two ten-pounder locks. Then mit he put from Gardener ' s Isle. When the northeast wind blew free, And down Long Island ' s fair north shore For the fairest spot searched he. On down the coast he sailed awaj By dunes and sand hluffs high. Till he came to a harbor between the hills. Sparkling ' neath the summer sky. Then sails he furled and anchor cast, And saith in his waiting crew. There ' s many a place that ' s fair I ' ve seen, But none like this, it ' s true. Si i he rowed to shore when the night came mi. With sturdy mates to pull; nd they buried the box at the harbor ' s mouth When the August moon was full. [23J5 The Captain drafted a treasure map With a cross where the treasure lay, And back they rowed to the waiting ship, And sailed ere break of day. Then from the woods stole a dusk}- form. For two eyes had watched that night, And an eager heart had waited there Till the ship was out of sight. A fire of wood and thatch he made And, facing toward the sea An oath he swore for his well loved tribe. For a chieftain brave was he. Strange powder he cast into the (lames, And strange words whispered low. And a spell he cast where the treasure lay That only he could know. And never a white man coming there Could raise by the strongest pull The treasure buried by Captain Kidd When the August moon was full. The wind was high when they sailed away. The Captain and his men. And every man of them was dead Ere he ever returned again. ' Tis said two men with a treasure map Discovered where the box was hid, But both fell dead in the full moon ' s light By the spectre of Captain Kidd. Many have come all filled with hope To find where the treasure lay ; And all who came with empty hands Empty-handed have gone away. Two hundred years and more have passed Since Kidd sailed the shining blue. But his loot is buried as ever it was. For the Indian ' s spell holds true. And men who go to hunt for gold Go only to gather wool. And woe to the ones who ma} ' search there When the August moon is full. The tide conns high and tin- tide goes lore, .hid ever anon does the full moon rise; .hid with spades ' hey come and with spades they go, But they never can find where the treasure lies. MARTORIE M. .MURPHY, ' 29. ■•-€{ 24 } Thomas A Becket WITHIN monastery walls a noble heart worshipped. Just beyond the farthest echo of the cloister chimes lay a world of Haunting fancies and painted peacocks. From thence had Thomas come, untainted by the garish life, to this threshold of sacrifice, toil and prayer. A rare and complete transformation it was. What nobility and strength of will was his! Hardly can Thomas ' life of dutifulness, patriotism and martyrdom be told without its companion picture in the person of Henry II. King oi England, lie was monarch through no earthly sacrifice. All was hi- to command — everything that the hand of man could touch, the birds of the air, the beasts of the forest, and all to be had for the pleasure in the taking. Thomas a Becket ' s calling to the life of sanctity had severed his worldly friendship with Henry, as companion in the hunt and friend at the court. This separation might easily have been forgotten by Henry in the com- pensation of many other joys, had Thomas not pledged himself to the support of the Church. The King considered Christ ' s earthly Kingdom and his own irreconcilable. One must he subservient to the other; but that one would not be England. Was not Thomas his friend? Could he not he in the hands of Henry a direct means toward absolute control of the Church? Then could Henry he master not only of the actions hut of the souls of men. Yet, ala -. Thomas of Becket, since his adoption of his new life, was not the same Thomas whom Henry and his court had known. All Henry ' s attempts at gaining power over the Church were frustrated by Thomas, who rose, a flaming and heroic personality in its defense. The contest then became not so much Church and State as Henry and Thomas. The obedience of the Church tried the patience of Henry. He planned one final blow a tax on the Church to be submitted directly to him. Heaviness weighed af the heari of a Becket. One meeting with his old friend might save all. One glance into those defiant eyes might recall the days of youth that meant s, . much to both. Thomas ' many petitions were met with only a series of refusals, until at last a conference was granted. Sore, tried, and weary. Thomas, spurred on by the sacredness of his purpose and hy the purity of the love by which he was hoping to quicken Henry ' s regard for him. journeyed to the palace. Before the bolted door of the royal council hall the few and faithful companions of the patriotic priest mingled among the courtiers. All were silent in awesome suspense. Abruptly the portals were flung wide. Angry tones rang out — they were Henry ' s — Nay, by God ' s eyes! Thomas was calm hut dogmatic in his monotone response, ' Aye. my Liege, under those -ame holy Eyes, by which you so sacrilegiously swear, you -hall not! No further word was wasted. An historical note had been struck. The humble priest had defied the King! And not that alone, hut he had denied to Henry the power that a nation had not been able t resist — the power to tax the people that he might till his ever gaping coffers. The Mack clothed figure swept OUl of the corridor. The fire died out in Henry ' s eyes. His head dropped upon his breast. One pang of emotion hitherto restrained, rose within him. For an instant his worldliness was forgotten. The tragedj of it all was now evident llcniw still loved Thomas ' It was twilight hour. The time-worn walls of the cloister chapel were scarcely discernible. Shadows stealthily crept in and out among the stalls ■ 25 - and pillars. All was still. The flickering candle glowed before the eternally breathing Presence in the humble abode of the tabernacle. At the foot of the little altar trickled a crimson stream from a heart not yet cold. Only the sword of steel, less true than the life it took, touched it. There it remained, his life blood oozing from the body which a few months before had stood face to face with England ' s King, defending God ' s word and protecting His faithful children. Here was Henry ' s deed, here his love, his friend. Here under those same holy Eyes by which Henry had sworn, lay his victim. Duty to his King in all that was not sin. protection to the flock entrusted to his care, loyalty to Christ the King — all were accomplished. Thomas a Becket. the priest, the patriot, the martyr, the saint, lay at the foot of the Altar of ( k)d. FRANCIS McGUIRE, ' 29. i 26}{ Class History, ' 26 . Ind history with her volumes vast Hath but one page. BEFORE I lunch my peij to thai page of gold, I am going to glance over four treasured volumes, my reminiscent Scrapbooks. Dreaming over them before the fire, I cannot help thinking how like the seasons our College years have been, each a distinct act, imaged in nature ' s moving picture. The seasons come and Each with its gifts in hand. Thai u e may see and know How well all life is planned. Spring is the time of green and growing things, fresh and verdant, figuratively a fitting season for Freshmen to enter college and receive the first seeds oi knowledge. A little gold banner pinned to the first page brings back old memories of that ne ' er to be-forgotten first day. especially the cordial welcome from our Sister class. Next, there arc two remem- brances, one from the U. A., the other a program of our Bishop ' s reception, which reminds us of the holiday that followed. (We used t wonder, in those days, whether the Bishop would visit us often!) slice of garlic, pressed, hut long since scentless, revives visions of hazing, when we were adorned with those unique petits chapeaux. A Valentine program of Miir party to our Sister C ' lass. a lolly-pop from Class Day, and a black and gold basket from the Freshman Frolic to the Seniors make me relive thosi joyous moments once again. 1 remember, too, how proud we were t win ill. Silver Cup at the Athletic meet. And to think that we, the Freshmen. were the Champion Basketball team! In those happy days, how we felt the throb of new life! But we did not realize then. an more than do the freshmen of today, how verj green and insignificant Freshmen reallj are. As we curiously observed the upper classes, we knew that there were many things in store for us: 5 ve i Spring full o days and ruses. A box where sweets compacted lie Spring ' s gentle winds and rains soon opened Summer ' s (lowers. We found the skies more azure and the sun more bright, so our Class Colors of blue and gold were proving a true reality. Little by little, hlossoms were unfolding and stretching forth to feel the world. What fun it was for us who had been hazed hut a short time before to exercise our newly gained supremacy over tin poor subjected Frosh ! Now my glance is caught by a program of another reception to our Bishop; a party to the Juniors; a yellow tie. symbol of class Day; programs of Mary Jane McKane and Plain Jane theatre parties to the Juniors and Seniors. All these memories till my pages. Again we won the Championship of the Meet and the Cup is our trophy forever! Then once more, as Summer yields to Autumn, so must our Sophomore year give a to Junior, having added manj sweet remembrances to memory ' s precious fund. Our gala days are half spent. We know we must go on. hut some invisible power seems to check us during a brief moment: ' Twos twilight when I hade van go, hit still yea held me fast ; ll was the time of rases — And we plucked then as we pass ' d! 4 27 | Autumn ' s glowing shadows were gathering to color new days. Time was creeping upon us. We would sunn reap the fruit from our harvest of hopes and dreams. To receive the new Freshmen revived thoughts of old happiness, when we were as the}-. Shortly after, it was such a joy to get our rings. The Junior week program presents an index to the greater part of this volume. Its contents include our own Mas-., and Hoi} ' Communion and Breakfast, Supper at Gioleto ' s; Rose .Marie. We Love You ; our recep- tion to the faculty and college: our theatre part} ' from the Sophs; Topsy and Eva (ever since the masterpiece of ' 26 in dramatic productions!; and the Senior Supper part} ' . Last of all came our memorable Junior Prom, with its numerous favors, including the pressed corsage, sweet tribute of our Sister Class. Next, I find a little yellow mascot decorated with a blue ribbon around his neck: and a program of Louis XIV — reminders of Class Day: a small silver pencil is the token from Junior Luncheon at the Bossert. There was no meet this year, out of respect for our beloved Coach ' s death, and we have dedicated to her memory the cup lor Ad. The old Sanctum meant a great deal to the Senior Class, but our new one has added even greater joy, though we realize our moments there are brief. In this, the fourth volume so far. we have our Hallowe ' en dance order, a favor from our part} ' to the Sophs, a Christmas entertainment program, reminders of a few lectures and teas; but fairest of all came a bouquet What . ' haii tin- rose more delicate appears. ' Yet hitter thought — it blossoms fa decay; Like hopes in embryo dreams of other years, i r purest joys that quickly pass away. Now in retrospect of these most cherished days of our life, we ask ourselves — what have these years meant to us? Years when Ave worked and played hand in hand? What does our parting mean to those we leave behind? For a while, it means a missing face; a memory — that is all. Time never ceases to turn the wheel, and we are but shadows of yesterday. What these years have meant to us. no words can adequately express, lint after all. it is the old. old story, To know, to love, and then to part. We have learned a new philosoph} of life, realized a greater love for God and our boh faith, and have come to cherish a high moral standard. Before we begin the quest for the realization of our ideals, we wish to express our gratitude to the good teachers who strove So hopctull} during these years to impart to us the best. Each teacher will mean a memory, for each has imprinted some indelible mark upon us wheh no power on earth can eradicate. All evening I have been absorbed in these dear old Scrapbooks, follow- ing our footprints through the green grass, in rose gardens, on autumn leaves, and over the snow. And I really meant to write the Class History ' , but now the hour is late, the logs are low. and the night is chill. As I gaze regre tfully a brief moment upon the dying embers. Sweet Remem- brances breathe comfort and hope; Let fate do her zvorst, there are relies of joy. Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy; And which come in the nightime of sorrozv and care; And bring hack the features that Joy used to ivear ; Long, long, he my heart with such memories filled; Like the rase in which roses have once been distilled. You max break, you may shatter the vase if you will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still. MAREITTA ROCKEFELLER, ' 26. 4 2S Marionettes LADIES and gentlemen! This way! Step up close! The show is starting. Have a look, have a laugh. See my mannequins. The) can walk. th can talk. ' All the world ' s a stage and all the men and women players . ' You will like my dolls. You will know them. They can play life ' s little acts like real people. Ah! Here we are. Lower the lights and let the curtains part. See tin- little lady in the blue. She steps, she slides, she glances, glides. That ' s little Humble Helen, mamma ' s pride. She seeks her friends. Ah. there they are. They look, they gaze. Their eyes the) raise. Ah, as I live, she comes. Enter Marionette mincing, gushing, drawling. Orchestra softly a I love me, I love me, I love myself the best. Oh, girls, I just bought this hat and I don ' t like it a bit. Do you really like it? Yes, the dress is new. too, but 1 don ' t care much about it. Of course, the style is cute but I ' ve had much better looking dresses. Did you pass your last exam? That ' s too had. I got only ninety this time, but 1 didn ' t try ver hard, and anywa y— you know how it is when your mark ' - are surpassing. People sa) Let the curtains drop while Helen entertains. We now shall see a man ol deeds and brains. Ah. this is Big Time Charley on his way. He sure is dated heavily today. He ' s there with all the ladies, you ' ll allow. In his own estimation, he ' s a wow. Enter male figure, bustling ail asmile, bowing, waving handkerchief and cane. That ' s enough applause, audience. 1 can see you know me. Hello, everybody. I just dropped in. Can ' t sta) a moment. It seems I have scarcely any time, any more. Went to a theatre party, followed by a dinner dance last night, and this morning had to leave town early on a business trip. Gol hack for lunch with John Rockefeller and dashed off to pack for a week-end visit out of town. I ' m on my way. .Mortimer is waiting with the car. Clap hands, here go I. The curtains close, and now we ' ll see a maiden versed in history. And what a memor) for facts m word! Such talcs she tells you ' ve nevei heard. Sound the cymbals, tap the drums. Upon the stage now Wandering Wanda come-. Enter female figures dressed for street. On opposite side of stage an- other figure breezes in. Oh! Good afternoon, Mrs. Brown. What lovely weather we ' re having. Yes; it did rain terribly yesterday, but I remember one day two years — now was it two? Let me see. 1 believe it was three. No, it couldn ' t have been, because we were in Bermuda three years ago. Have you ever been to Bermuda? Well you really ought to go. We enjoyed it so much. Such healthy weather. What was I saying! Oh, yes, it rained so. |ust two years ago, I remember so well now. It was on a Monday. No ; 1 guess it was on Tuesday. Now wait Wednesday, I gave a party— we had a wonderful time everybod) enjoyed it im- mensely. Of courst the guests were threatened with showers going home, hut — oh. yes. I remember we had been having Mich tine weather on Monday and Tuesday, and Wednesday evening was so cloudy. Thursday it just poured in torrents. I remember ,, well because little 4 2 ' i ■ Sara was dreadfully ill all day. Oh. dear, it ' s raining again, and my new hat — (curtain closing.) Now (Mice again the play is on and Wandering Wanda on her way has gone. But here is one — oh, who is he? Persistent Percival — you all can see. In converse deep. But fall what may our hero bold will have his say. Enter tzvo male figures meeting, greeting, talking, gest iculating. How are you, Mr. Smith. This is really fine weather we ' re having, isn ' t it? I heard — yes, I know Bill is going away. As I was saying, the weatherman says — Is that so? ( dad to hear it, but I was just going to say the heat is — Yes, you ' re right. True. true. I was trying to tell you though, the weather — Sure Jack ' s a good sport. Talking about the weather, though — Yes. that ' s so. But to get hack to what we were talking about, this weather — Well if you must. So long! I ' ll call you up about the weather. (Curtain.) And. now the lights are low. Two female figures ' cross the platform go — Gloomy Gloria, glum of face; Gossiping Georgia, slow of pace. Curtains parting show two female figures. Orchestra wails Smile a Little Bit. Isn ' t it sad about old Mr. Elkins and his poor little wife? What ' ll she ever do ? Yes. it ' s too had. but then they- say he has a tidy little sum put away. My sister knows a man whose brother works in a hank and he says that old Elkins ' account ran into four figures. I wonder where it came from. Of course, I don ' t mean anything, hut still. Oh. 1 have such an awful headache today. I always have one. Besides I have a frightful cold and there ' s so much sickness everywhere. I really am getting weak. I ' ve lost a pound since that summer I spent at the seashore five years ago. Hut no one seems to realize or care about my rapidly failing health. I have most terrible pains! Oh. dear! (sighs from both ladies) Well, since no one bothers about me. I don ' t care. I ' ll treat them the same. Let them see how they ' ll miss me. 1 just think I ' ll spend the after- noon visiting. Will you come with me. Georgia, to the Elkins? Yes; I believe he ' s laid out now. Oh. it ' s so sad! Isn ' t it terrible? At last they ' re gone! The sunlight shines again. But who is this bejewelled self-sufficient swain Wee Willie Wiseboy, Village Wit. A man of parts and genius, he ' ll admit. Enter male figure gaudily dressed, tripping, chirping, smirking, trying a step or tzvo of that elassie dance, the Charleston. How do you do, everybody, how do you do. How do vim doodle, doodle, doodle, doodle do. ' Tis fine weather for a fish. But for me it ' s devilish. How do vuii do, everybody, how do you do. Xice clear day we ' re having. They say it ' ll turn to snow- soon. By the way, do you know why all the little snowrlakes dance so? Of course you don ' t. They ' re getting ready for the snowball. Say; did you hear about Jack, he fell through a window th is morning. No, lie wasn ' t hurt badly — got a pane inside of course, but — well, adios— a di eu — so long — bye-bve — ta-ta-toodle-oo-see you some more — fare thee well. And that ' s the last. The play ' s the thing, wherein the daily follies we can bring. Sir Roger once the fads and frills exposed as through the streets of London oft he nosed. Just so. my marionettes for you have entertained von with this gav revue. MARY LOFTUS. ' 29. -•■$30 }§ ••■ Die Lorelei POETS have called the River Rhine the most beautiful stream in the world. Not only for its remarkable natural beauty does it merit this title, but inure especially for the deathless romance that is of its essence. Every crumbling castle, still a stalwart sentinel of the Rhine, every fortress, every tower, every crag and towering ruck has its proper legend. A count- less store ii! folk tales has grown up around the Rhine, out of which have been evolved such creations as The Niebelungenlied and Lohengrin. One oi the more famous Rhine legends is associated with the Lorelei Rock. Many years ago a very beautiful maiden, clothed in snow white flowing robes, her golden hair bound up with stars, was wont to stand on a jutting ledge of the steep rock and to peer out over the length of the stream, scanning vine covered hills and verdant mountains. Sometimes a solitary boatman would appear, wending his way precariously between the dangerous crags. It was then that the Lorelei maiden would smile slowly, contentedly, while she began in a low. poignant voice to sing. The boatman, enthralled by visions of vague delight, gazes only at her. forgetting the jutting cliffs. A few moments later, a terrible crash is heard, mingled with the sound of mocking laughter, as the boatman is hurled against the rocks. Countless times had the gay enchantress lured her bewitched votaries to destruction, when one. Ronald, son of a powerful count, hearing of her marvellous beauty and inaccessabilit v, determined to win her lor himself. Just at the evening hour when the magician Night was drawing his sombre mantle over the still river. Ronald, together with his oarsman, was borne along the current. Standing up in his skill, he searched eagerly lor the maiden of the Lorelei. Perceiving his approach, she leaned forth, mysterious and sublimely lovely, calling him in her husky, sweet voice: Ronald! Ronald! Await me in the river! Impelled by a force greater than himself, the young knight jumped into the swift stream, and was heard oi no more. The Count, overcome with grief at the waste of his son ' s young promise, hastened to punish the sorceress. Four brave warriors gathered at the foot of the rock, announcing to the Lorelei her imminent destruction. Mockingly, bitterly, she laughed. She cast her jewels into the river, begging her father Rhine to rescue her. The water rose higher and higher, and presently an enormous, billow wave reached her side. With a last triumphant look at the thwarted avengers, she slipped into the billow, and was carried to the depths belpw, to appear no more. Bui sometimes on the still summer nights, a low and plaintive melody iloats down from the heights of the Lorelei, and a low. gentle voice calls; Ronald ' Ronald! Await me in the river! MARGARET M. McNULTY, ' is. -4 3] } ■ The Poetry of 1950 WITH the departure of Amy Lowell from the ranks of the modern poet, the Bolshevistic Bards. as Thomas Augustine Daly calls them, have lost a dominant figure. Who. recalling Patterns will deny that ? Shall we ask now who is to come forth in her stead to cham- pion the cause of free verse, or shall we ask how the writers of classic verse are progressing? No, we ask neither of these questions; but, instead, what is this new literary form that is appearing? It is something that does not concern itself basically with the classic or the modern school. It neither rehearses the platitudes of Malherbe, nor rejuvenates the Ars Poetica. In the early part of the twentieth century Professor Henri Martin Barzun originated poesie simultanee. This new literary form is in the nature of an orchestra that harmonizes the various elements from which it derives its name of Orchestral Poetry. The purpose of this new form in poetics is to reproduce a verisimilitude of life. One may argue the ques- tion by maintaining that there are many poems which are essentially true to life ' . Indeed they may have truth, beauty and goodness, but does every poem give us an exact impression of oneness? Does not every poem necessi- tate a succession of ideas? To illustrate this, let me quote from a poem by Robert Bridges: But ' neath the ruin of the withered brake Primroses note awake From musing sliades: The crumpled carpet of the dry leaves brown Avails not to keep dozen The hyacinth blades. From this exquisite picture of awakening spring, notice how the ideas are completely detached units. The withered brake and the primroses form two distinct perceptions in poetry, while in real life their relation is perceived. We do not keep adding new perceptions to the original one. This necessity which all language implies is of the greatest importance to the lyricist, He who lea-res a glimmer of his soul In a bit of marble, in a song — Yet it is the aim of Orchestral Poetry to reproduce life-like effects in spite of this difficulty. The method of orchestrating a poem is something like this. The writer chooses a central theme to which he subordinates a number of minor ones. One voice represents this main idea throughout the poem, while a number of other voices speak in harmonious relation to the central voice. These voices represent the various elements in the poem, and they speak simultaneously or alone as the thought requires. Sometimes the same word is spoken by several voices to intensify the idea, and sometimes several ideas are voiced at once as a chord in music. The printed page differs from the ordinary page in this respect. The first verse reads from the top of the first page horizontally to the last page ; and so it is with each verse. Thus we see that a stanza is not completed on one page, but is extended over many pages. The whole stanza must be read in the horizontal plane as if it were a simple line of poetry. Within a verse we may also read vertically, if there are a number of chords in the accom- paniment. For instance, take these lines of Agnes Lee: -4 32 £-.- We, the tossing city, we, the stream. Share your noble heritage of dream. An orchestration of these lines would l ik something like this: tossing 1. the tossing city shares of dream 2. W ' e share heritage 3. the stream shares your In this very rough outline we may note the chord tossing stream ; the way in which the central theme is carried forward by the salient or pronominal words; and the way in which the accompaniment leads up to heritage, showing the unity of the whole. It is needless here to go into the in volved technique of spacing and timing arrangement; hut in poems of great depth and perfection the words actually form graphic representations of the idea expressed. This, of course, can only be appreciated by seeing a poem completely. This new literary form has been received from Paris, where as many as twenty presentations have been publicly given. Professor Barzun ' s Panhar- monie Orphique, and Fernand Divoire ' s Exhortation a la Victoire are among many of the best. Orchestral Poetry is decidedly different; and a new literary form requires a great deal of study, if we are to truly appreciate it. Perhaps it is the dawn of a great transition in poetics. It may be rising as subtly as the child ' s soul of which Alice Meynell has written : For no divine Intelligence, or art, or fire or wine Is high-delirious as that rising lark — The child ' s soul and its day break in the dark. Perhaps the modernists will join hands with the classicists in proclaim- ing Orchestral Poetry the poetry par excellence. Will Orchestral Poetry become a moving reality in one year, or must we wait until 1950? KATHRYN MARIE LINZMEYER, ' 27. --sf 33}S - Reminiscences of Camp Life CAMP life readily lends itself to a narration of delightful experiences. Unlike the hues of a rainbow, our impressions of any night or day at camp are unfading. As the night comes on, we gather around the roaring camp fire, watch the leaping flames and dancing shadows, and listen to the crackling of the burning wood. One zealot tells us about the history of the camp fire; another enthusiast demonstrates the production of fire by rubbing sticks together; and still another presents the entertainments of the old camp- fire worshippers. What could be more mystical than this? The soft glow on our faces reveals that we are absorbed, and that we feel reverently toward these traditions. Taps are over. We lie on our cots in the open. We cannot help but remain awake for awhile, contemplating the great expanse of the brooding skv. and determining our favorite constellations — Orion. Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. A feeling of awe is experienced as we admire this magnificent and sublime view. Our souls are uplifted to the Supreme Creator. Soon we are lulled to sleep by the wind as it sways the nearby trees. There is some- thing exceedingly providential about sleeping ' neath the skies. The sun ' s rays shine forth. We awaken to the merry notes of the thrushes bidding us a cheery Good Morning. A favorite thrush perches himself on our sign post (the one we made from twigs of a cherry tree) and warbles very sweetly for us every morning. The feelings amused within us are sublime. Come, enjoy them with us ! The day ' s program is in order. Reveille! Salute to the flag! Breakfast! The earlv morning sun has deceived us for already a shower has come up. As we wend our way from breakfast to report for duty we do not find it very comfortable to have the rain trickle down behind our collars. But this is soon forgotten as we sing the simple melody : It ' s a tine thing to sing, singing is the thing, It brightens everything that ' s dark ami dreary It helps you on the road when you have a heavy load. Singing is the thing that makes you cheery. In the afternoon we join the leader in a walk through the woods. Perhaps for the first time we make the acquaintance of the various kinds of trees and shrubs, wild flowers, beautiful birds and insects. We learn to distinguish the trees by their leaves, bark and twigs; the hickory with its diverse bark, and the sassafras with its four distinct leaves, are only a few of the many fascinating varieties we meet. On this bike we may be so fortunate as to see a lunar moth, a sight exquisite in delicate pastel color- ings. The birds that cross our paths afford enchantment with their beauty and their calls. Bryant fittingly writes in Thanatopsis : To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her risible forms, she speaks A various language. Having returned from the walk, we engage in refreshing and vigorous water sports, swimming, games and boat races until the warning gong sounds for dinner. Promptly we file into the mess-hall. After the evening meal, we participate in the impressive ceremony of colors — the flag is 4 34 } lowered during the time that the bugle blows. Then we hurry to the recreation hall where we join in the merry making until it is time for us to carry the logs t the camp fire. When evening comes, and darkness softly falls. Girl Senilis their rest around their campfire seek, And eaeli In herself her laws recalls, Her truth, honor, and ptirity, Obedience and loyally ; While silent, the moon beams, and the stars twinkle brightly, God ' s witnesses on high, Then each seeks rest until the morning light. While the bugle sounds its sweet goodnight. ANNA SCHNEIDER, ' 26. Dance of the Qolden Qlow Dear little Golden (How. Bobbing and nodding so. Tall, stately sterna of green, Topped by a golden sheen. Each little flowerlet nods, Gaily at any odds, First tn the west wind so, Master who bows them low. Then with the sun they dance, Twirling with every glance ; Then with the rain they frisk. Each drop a tender kiss. Now with their partner bee-. Sway tn a merry breeze, Changing their partners soon With each new gleeful tune. Dance they their lives away. Here for a wee short stay! What cares have they to weigh? Dear dancing Golden Glow. ALITA C. LUDDER, ' 28. - Class Will WE, the members of the Class of 1926, being of sound and disposing mind, hereby declare this to be our last will and testament and do hereby revoke all prior wills, all codicils, and we do hereby devise and bequeath : First — To our Alma Mater, our sincere regrets that she is forced to part with such a rare group of intellectuals. Second — To Father Dillon, a class of enthusiastic philosophers who will prove ardent ethicists, eager, to the extent of voluntarily attending an extra session of class each week. Third — To Sr. Angeline, in recognition of her unfailing concern for the Society, a life interest in the Apostleship of Study. Fourth — To. Sr. Lorenzo, the right to expect the incoming class in Elementary Methods to attend Benediction faithfully that she may be able to provide the Board of Education with one hundred per cent genuinely conscientious school teachers. Fifth — To Sr. Carmela. an adding machine to render assistance in the solution of her pecuniary difficulties. Sixth — Out of the kindness of our heart we leave to Sr. de la Salle a pet lamb, to be trained to follow her, that the loss of Margaret Johnston may not prove overwhelming. Seventh — To Sr. Angelica, a chalk line across the threshold of the class- room that it may be sufficiently clear to her whether a student has her foot inside the door. Eighth — To Sr. Augustine Maria, a model class of students, guaranteed to read all the books assigned throughout the course. Ninth — To Sr. Natalie, to have and to hold forever, the gratitude of ' Twenty-six for her ever active part towards making a success of this issue. Tenth — To Twenty-seven Senior rights and privileges such as exclusive use of the front door and the front stairs, and the honor of wearing their tassels to the front and on the left side of their caps. Furthermore, we bestow on them the right to the great respect and consideration that the under-classes have always manifested towards us. Eleventh — To ' Twenty-eight, our heartiest appreciation for the thoughtfulness they have shown in providing for our pleasure ; and our unselfish hopes that they may be as good a Senior Class as we have been. Moreover, to certain unduly shy members of the said Class, we grant free and easy access to a glass of orange juice daily left in the Profs ' Room. Twelfth — To the Class of ' Twenty-nine. the right to hope that at some future date, it may meet its problems as ingeniously and with as brave a front as that presented by the Class of ' 28. Thirteenth — To ' Thirty, the use for their tenure as Freshmen of our beloved Sanctum upon the condition, however, that it be kept as clean as we have always kept it. §{36} - Fourteenth — To Miss Agnes, an office boy whose sole duty will be to answer the few daily questions which are ordinarily put to her. Fifteenth — To Margaret Johnston ' s successor, the unalloyed pleasure of keeping order at I . A. Meetings. Sixteenth — To Margaret Nbrmile, Kay Kilgallen ' s genius for managing Proms and her achievements in the field of athletics. Seventeenth — To Margaret O ' Reilly, a private dancing floor, that she may practice the Charleston in peace and comfort. Out of the residue of our estate, if there be any, we hereby bequeath to those who feel they need them, our sincerest gratitude and appreciation, since gratitude and appreciation constitute the major portion of our worldly goods. June fifteenth, 1926. (Signed) CLASS OF 1926. 4 V )§•■- Little Things IT is the little things of life that make it deep and full of meaning; it is in the little things of life that we find courage and solace. Little things — a mother ' s smile, the ripple of innocent laughter, the handclasp of a friend, a picture, a flower, pressed and faded — little things, all. Yet see how carefully we treasure them. They are mi ire precious than the wealth of kings. A mother ' s smile ! It comes in a moment and as quickly disappears, a tiny gleam in the shadows of worry and care. Yet how often, in times of discouragement, that ever ready sign of pride and love has roused within us new hope and determination to reach the goal. How often in times of joy and gladness, it has been the most perfect crown to all our honors and triumphs. The ripple of innocent laughter! Have you ever heard children laugh- ing? I think it is the sweetest music in the world. In all the simple guile- lessness and purity of their baby years they play together, utterly unaware that in a short time they will have to shoulder the burden of responsibility. And we. who have grown up and are faltering under the weight, turn to our friends for comfort. The touch of their hands fills us with a sense of security. Such a little thing — the touch of a hand. But its effect is greater than can be seen by human eye. Heads that have hung in shame and remorse are lifted in confidence once more. Lips that have grown, weary from imprisoning words, pour out their story in relief. Hearts that were troubled by grief and anxiety are now calm with the peace of friendship. A picture! The world is full of them. But that little one is dearer by far than the painting of a great master. Just a little thing — yet who knows but it was that which turned the tide of battle and changed the course of nations? A soldier on the eve of battle snatches a last glimpse of something dear to him. Perhaps it is only the picture of an old farmhouse, his boy- hood home. Whatever it is. it makes him go forth, eager and bold, surpris- ing his comrades with his daring, till finally they, too. rush on to sweep all before them. Later, we may open a book to read the record of that bravery. Within its pages, we find a pressed and faded flower. Gently we lift it in our hands. Its faint perfume strikes our nostrils. Then, suddenly, before our eyes, we see the face of some dear one whose features are strangely blurred by a mist of tears. Such a little thing — a flower, half forgotten; but now it is fraught with memories, bitter-sweet. And the cloud of sorrow that has passed over us. is dispelled by the fragrance of ' that little thing. Little things! How sweet and dear they are to us! Surely we shall never forget them nor cease to cherish them as life ' s most precious gifts. MARIE BREXXAX. ' 29. - 4 38 f Result: IT is but natural for a college graduate, toward the close of her course, to consider, What have the four years at college done for me? In what way am I better prepared to take my place in the busy throng? Woodrow Wilson ' s summarization of the aim of a college might suggest the answer: ... the object of the college is not scholarship . . . but the intellectual and spiritual life. . . . The object of a liberal training is not learning but discipline and enlightenment oi the mind. If then, the informing of the mind were the exclusive aim in electing a college, there would be little difficulty offered in the choice of an alma mater. Attraction for one college might be found in its well-known pro- fessors, for another in its traditional scholastic attainment. But something more than the mere acquisition of knowledge is desired in the election of a college. The object of a liberal training has been given as discipline. This discipline is acquired gradually. Among other ways, various studies assist in its acquisition — science, mathematics. Greek and Latin, these offering perhaps the best means. But there is an added power of discipline found in the study of subjects that are peculiar to our Catholic colleges — scholastic philosophy, apologetics, and Scripture. The same powers of investigation, of ability to see all sides of a question, of observation, are brought into play. These studies, though, have more than a disciplinary character. Because of the deep meaning they bear upon the life of a student, they could ill afford to be left out of the curricula. But if the object of college education were only discipline and enlighten- ment of the mind. as Mr. Wilson says, would that aim satis!) our concept of education? Are discipline and enlightenment of the mind the be-all and end-all of a liberal training? Surely there is something more and some- thing greater. .Man is a moral being and any system oi education that ignores the moral aspect of his nature is incomplete. This essential training is provided in a Catholic college. It aims to develop in its students not only an appreciation of but a striving after the highest value-, eternal and true. The standards set are high, conceived as they are in the Heart of Christ; the struggle entailed is constant. But strength and courage are not lacking. because firm belief in the Real Presence of Christ in the Tabernacle gives the student in the Catholic college strength in weakness and courage in darkness. Here all that the heart of man has craved, all that he has ever dreamed may be realized. Only one who has attended both a secular and a Catholic college can know that there is a vast difference between the two. In the former, one is living in a building where knowledge is dispensed, and where what is heroic occasionally does appear, but it is not because of any inspiration inside those walls. In the Catholic college the- students are dwelling daily with Christ ever present in the Tabernacle. They seek Him constantly, to cry away then- pain in sorrow, to sing their thanksgiving in joy. He is their closest Friend, ,i 59 fr«- and His influence is reflected in the activities which are helping them to achieve greater results. It is in the teaching profession that the greater number of our girls will be found. There they will show what they have gained from their Catholic education. It is an overwhelming thought to consider what power for good they might carry away with them. Inspired by their teachers who have made the greatest sacrifice, not only of material prosperity but also of human love, they will pursue as an ideal the work they have undertaken. From the learning process, they may appreciate the technical beauties of a poem ; but in the wave which rolls in its words or the wind which blows through its lines, in the soul of the poem, they see reflected the power and the beauty of God. And well can they sing with King David. O God, Thou art exceeding great. Thou hast put on praise and beauty and art clothed with light as with a garment, Who makest the clouds Thy chariot; Who walkest upon the wings of the winds. IRENE V. LENT, ' 26. -•■$40)3 - Evenings With Madame ALL classes are more or less alike; nothing brings ou1 the monotony of their regular recurrence so much as an hour of study spent in unusual . pursuits. This comparison always brings home to me the boon of my P ' rench lessons, which are really not lessons but hours of delightful mental relaxation. These evenings began at the time that I started college, and the pressure of other work frustrated any purposive study. Primarily they exist for the promotion Of a taste for the French classics. Vocabulary drill and literary background are incidental. These meetings do not follow a schedule, now and then a week passes without one, but they are invaluable. The practice started with an ordinary end in view, with no extra- ordinary expectations either on my part or on the part of my teacher. But, after I came to know Madame, I was never surprised at what each successive evening might mean to me. Although the reading was varied enough, the discussions included more than books, either French or English. .Madame is a student; better, a connoisseur of everything human, whether artistic or philosophical. Her own studies in France and in Spain, her travels in every country of Europe, provide material for a vast number of talks. That, however, is not Madame ' s way, for it is only incidentally that she discloses these experiences. For the sake of improving my con- versation, always a weak member in need of development, she draws me out by numerous devices, usually by means of anecdotes of her own. Once we were talking of Brian Hooker ' s translation of Cyrano de Bergerac. The peculiar efficacy of this work seemed to be its easy con- formity to the original language. Madame honored this opinion (she accepts seemingly trivial observations at even more than their value). She even supported it by analysis of her own first reading of Shakespeare in French. Again, when I was reading a French translation of Don Quixote, my guide created an atmosphere from her experiences at Salamanca. Because of her graphic portrayal the library of this Spanish University will always hold a fascination for me that a printed description from the most absorbing study will never have. Other subjects reviewed in these hours are innumerable, but perhaps 1 can suggest what they might include. Hamlet, in Modern Dress was set up beside Walter Hampden ' s production. Less recently the passing of Conrad, of Anatoli.- France, of Amy Lowell, were the occasions for comment. Books mentioned in these hours have never been dissappointing on account of associations formed. None of these topics is ever cut and dried. There is a drifting, with Madame in command, ready to stop for explanation of pertinent difficulties. I have emphasized Madame, the teacher, but she is just as much my friend. It was surprising how soon after these lessons began that the teacher became the friend. Sympathy with college life and its social side was the Open Sesame to friendly understanding, regardless of age or individualities. Madame ' s tolerance and humor are outstanding. The latter is typically French in spirit but its depth and color are the result of contacts. It is a medley in which familiar notes connect the stranger tones. The personality of Madame has made these evenings. Neither the study of the classics, nor the general interests discussed will ever make me remember these extra-college hours as will the thought of my teacher. Good taste, even good sense might eventually have led me down the path of experience to the place of cultural interests, but Providence gave me a star, a guide on my way. AGNES E. DALY. ' 26. -m 41 r f. 4 42) MABEL I . BARTON HOW quickly the hours pass under the sunny influence of Mabel; She has that magnetic power of attraction which draws all fun lovers within her gay circle. When shrieks of laughter issue from the Sanctum, one is reasonably certain that she is the cause of the mirth. Even when absorbed by her hobby, bridge, she never fails to entertain her friends with a timely piece or humorous tale. Her jokes are always the outburst of wit. leaving a happier and better atmosphere in their wake. Her delightful gift sometimes takes a musical turn, as when she vies with the Minnesingers of old, or when she unwittingly sends the philosophy class into peals of laughter by her rendition of a funeral march. Mabel is affectionately known to her classmates in other ways than by her refreshing sense of humor. Always have we found her a willing worker, generously giving her- self to any project. lth an inquiring mind thai is not satisfied until reasons are grasped, Mabel will make a sue- Mingle a little cess of future inlellectu- folly with your al pursuits. wisdom. Her executive skill has I) e e n splendidly shown in her competent management of o u r team. She has been most careful in her SU pervision not only of schedules and line-ups lmt also of lemons ! Oh, what would w e do w ith- out lemons and Mabel! ' . man wise in words shall make himself beloved. — Eccli. -Hg{43 [■ GENEVIEVE M . CARTER HAVE you ever actually known anyone who possesses a dual person- ality? ' ' Twenty-six believes that Genevieve is one of these unusual characters. Certainly she presents two entirely different phases to the observer. First of all there is the serious side. If you have ever seen the gowns Gen has created for herself, you realize that sewing- is not a lost art. Then, too, that most practical of ' all studies, math claims her as a major and find ' s her ever interested in the pursuit of zero. Perhaps, math offers a practical course in the development of one ' s aptitude for ' bridge. Certainly, Gen ' s ability as a bridge player makes her a popular partner, and her gaiety and irrepressible smile guarantee the success of any gathering. Dancing is another of her particular pleasures and if you have ever watched her at the Terpsichorean art you are aware that she is dainty and graceful in no slight degree. We have heard that it is Genevieve ' s ambition to make her histrionic ability count for some- thing. If you saw The Neighbors and As You Like It, you will agree with us in believ- ing that in all probabil- ity her dreams will come true. of merry, such a nimble. stirring spirit. And there is a great delight in her friendship. — Wisd. -4 44 }■ •- LORETTA C. COLBORNE IORETTA ' S specialty is science. In this she finds much that absorbs and interests her. The intricacies of mathematics and the complications revealed by a microscope mean something to think about and to clarify. If thought and sacrifice of self help to achieve, then Loretta is surely on the road to success. In class and out of it. she is always the same generous, even-tempered student. As a matter of fact, her generosity has been the cause of her down- fall on more than one occasion. Those of us who accepted her offer to be escorted to the distant lands of South Orange know this very well. Students have sometimes been accused of electing courses for the points to be gained or for a similar unworthy reason. But Loretta has been known to choose a course for the culture it will give or for the practical benefit to herself, and not because of a less meritorious m o t i v e. Does she not approach one of the characteristics of the ideal student we sometimes hear de- scribed? Lo, is not a word better t li a n it gift? But both arc with a justi- fied man. — Eccli. 77;i- will of man is by his reason s-u ' ayed. -6f45}§ MARGARET M . CROWLEY MARGARET will always be to ' Twenty-six the girl with the perpetual smile. Her kindness and sympathy, her direct sincerity have all contributed to the making- of a faithful friend. She is always willing and pleased to help anyone. Her characteristic hail, a listen m ' love, bespeaks the best of humor. When, by dint of much effort, one is able to disturb her equanimity, her inevitable reply to any speech is. Oh, well, if you feel that way about it — Whereupon one sets about coaxing forth a smile which is always quickly furthcoming, a sure sign of forgiveness. As evidence of a clever mind, we have her choice of English and Latin for specialization. In both branches. Margaret has been a good student. Her quiet wide-reaching charm attracts many to her, for Margaret is above all things else, loyal. There is about her an aroma of sincerity and kindness which makes the power of her spirit more potent. Her kind eyes tell the story of a heart unselfish, of a character possessing the finer qualities we all ad- mire. They reveal a soul true to the ideals she has chosen, and to those favored ones she numbers as her friends. There is ability in knowing how to conceal one ' s ability. She hath opened her mouth to wisdom, and the laze of clemency is on her tongue. — Prov. 4 46 ■■- GENEVIEVE A. D ' ALBORA SWEET GENEVIEVE could not have been mure even-tempered or joll) than our Genevieve. She faces trying moments with that calmness engendered by long and carefully nurtured patience. Easily aroused to enthusiasm, slit- is always a source oi encouragement, a spirited proponent of the worthiest cause. We have found this especially true in her work as Publicity Manager of our Prom and in her success in securing the support of the Alumnae for this and previous issues of l.oria. Our Sanctum, in its faultless decoration, is further evidence that small people can not only command but can induce others to be enthusiastic and energetic. Genevieve has been a steadfast and trustworthy chairman of the Students ' Attendance Committee. Neither lax nor unreasonable, she has tried to he just towards those who have approached her tribunal. To her we owe the success i if Mission 1 )a . As Chairman, she guid- ed the members of the College towards the sub- stantial growth of the Maryknoll Burse. • l«iic ie e typifies the girl u ho may lie imitated with profit. Iler high ideals and ambitions are reflected on all sides, whether it is in pursuit of an elusive literary Castle in Spain, in her fine College spirit, or in her continual considera- tion for her .fellows. The man of un- derstanding is a precious spirit. — Prov. The heart whose softness h a r - in o ii i z e d the whole. ■°4 47 )■ AGNES E. DALY THERE is and can be only one Agnes Daly. For four years as a brave captain, she has steered our little craft through the storms inci- dent to a college course. When the waves of discussion rose high and seemed about to engulf us, it was always her hand that cast the oil upon the troubled waters. Timely witticisms and kindly sallies have man}- a time relieved the tension created by a social error. Gifted with a keen mind and a firm will. Agnes has succeeded in all that she has undertaken. Each member of the class Looks forward to the full development of her varied capabilities. As Chairman of the Honor System Committee Agnes has received unanimous support and approval. Influenced by high ideals, possessed of a quick understanding and ready sympathy balanced by a keen and just judgment, she has discharged the duties of that important post not only kindly but impartially. But in years to come, when in memory we live again these happy days of S. J. C, it will not be the recollection of Agnes ' scholastic attain- ments nor pride in her executive ability that will stir our hearts, but the subtle charm of her friendly spirit ; and in the sweet silence we will catch again the cheery, old-time greeting, Good Morning, Glory. Heart to conceive, and understand- ing to direct or the hand to ex- ecute. ' Be in peace with many, b u t let one of a thou- sand b y t It y counsellor. ■ — EcCLL ■ 48 )§ ■- MAY B. DANNENHOFFER TO .May belong the glory and fame which come with being Twenty- six ' s first fiancee. That May day in Junior year when she swept us off mr feet with the announcement of her engagement, is one of the class ' most eventful days. There was hardly one of us who was not almost as happy as May herself. Despite t he very great distraction, however, she has continued to be of us and with us. both scholastically and socially. More than that, she has even achieved the coveted exemptions which normal people find so difficult to capture. This speaks highly not only of May ' s intellectual capabilities hut also of her steadfastness of purpose. Sincerity in friendship is one of May ' s salient points. Her friends say that when they are in need of assistance of any kind, they can always depend upon her to give it. T There is no pleas- ure above the joy of llii ' heart. — Ec -( i i. fact that her advice and approval are sought by them at all times goes far toward proving that her judgment is sound and her heart willing. And who would sus- pect that this maid loves traveling? It is true that she does within limits, and those are Philadelphia. Is it because she is attracted to the city, or because she is so fond of that old song, I ' m off to Philadelphia in t h e morning ? Love and Cod ' s will go hand in hand. 4 +9 }■ • ELEANOR M. DOLAN THE next time anyone tells you that girls no longer blush, come to us. We have a living refutation of that statement, for Eleanor can and does blush, most becomingly. It is our sincere hope that when she is teaching none of the pupils will discover this charming weakness, for if they do, how will class lie conducted? The blushing is indicative of those maidenly virtues which Eleanor possesses in such great measure. When we sa she- is quiet, modest and shy, vmi have an insight into her disposition. So reticent and retiring is she that she i seldom seen alone, possibly through fear of becoming con- spicuous. It was more or less of a problem to us to decide how Eleanor would survive her Twin ' s absence. We are pleased to report that she bore her trial nobly, proving that quiet people are often made of sterner stuff than their noisy neigh- bors. Eleanor is a typical college girl, accessible apparent! v busily en- gaged in enjoying her- self, but at the same time achieving success in the line of stud) she has chosen. The metic- ulous care expended on her history reports is well known. This power af striking a balance be- tween duty and pleasure will doubtless prove a boon to her in later vears. Is she not more than painting (-an express Or youthful poets fancy when they love? Nothing can be compared to a faithful friend, and no weight of silver and gold is able to counter- vail the i ood- ness of his fidel- ity. ■ — Eccli. --•§{ 50 $■ BARBARA E. ECKELS TROUBLE never daunts Barbara. It would be inconceivable to picture lur as anything but carefree and cheerful. These traits are so intri n- sically part of her that the) jusl communicate themselves to you without your realizing it. There is one characteristic she possesses thai is decidedly interesting, the more so because it is rather unusual among us. We refer to her well- developed propensity for order and system. A set of note-books, carefully labeled, one for every class, is One expression of it. Another expression is found in her histor) papers which Bob always prepares mi matter what else must he left undone. Above all things is she eager to help. She never misses one opportunity to do a good turn daily. and it is done in such a graceful way that it conveys the impression of her being the favored in- stead of the helpful one. Speed is the word which epitomizes Bar- bara ' s character. When a professor says to her. Your name, please? her r e p 1 y is Bob Wreckles. Speed in action, in speech, in thought — all these arc- hers. Recognizing this fact. ' Twenty six knows enough to beware of Barbara when she is not in a hurry. The jovl illness of the heart is the life of man. — Eccli. Good humor and a habit of being pleased. M s ' t VIOLET J. FARRELL IF the class or any member of it is in a dilemma, Violet can generally solve the difficulty. She has a worth while suggestion for every plan which we undertake, whether it be the selection of a costume for Class Day, or the most efficient method of getting an assignment. The ability to form definite views without losing sight of both sides of a question will make her a successful teacher of history. Although Violet is inclined to be serious, her infectious laugh, easily recognized from any part of the room, reveals her appreciation of a witty remark or a humorous situation. This ideal combination of characteristics makes Violet a delightful companion and a staunch friend. And her ability to see the humorous gives her a power to look at things in a philosophic -i ay. If trouble cannot he cured, it must be endured — but endured with a laugh. In Violet ' s eyes are reflected the sincerity, earnestness, and sympa- thy of her soul. These qualities have made her a comrade to be valued, and one to be called by the sacred name of friend. Her modest looks t h e c.ott a g e might adorn Sweet as the prim- rose peeps be- neath the thorn. I peace a b I e tongue is a tree of life. — Prov. 4 52 }? ■■ KATHRYN E. FISHER TALI, women are to be admired; little women to be loved. How true this is of Kathryn, who is one of the most lovable of our numbers. Perhaps it is her sympathy and sincerit) that have made her such a part of us all; but whatever the reason, we all realize that having once known her we could not he the same without her. Dependable people are always popular, and so that is probably another reason for Kathryn ' s appeal. Whenever a poster or artistic work of any kind is needed by class or college, her time and work are always cheerfulh and unstintinglj given, regardless of cost to self. Besides. Kay ' s artistic efforts in Footprints of other years, have kept a picture-account of ' Twenty-six ' s growth and development at college. Kathryn ' s g 1 humor never fails. Just seeing her so contented makes e eryone else happy, too. ' o wonder she is always in d e m a n d. Kathryn is ever a source of interest and encour- agement. We all ex- pect great things of her and the thought that she has never disappointed us makes us confident of her future. Her ways beautiful and all her are peaceabh — Prov are ways paths ' The path of kind- ness leads o Heaven. 4 53)5 BERNADETTE M GARVEY more familiar to them, BERNADETTE is one of the girls win mi everybody lines. The reason is very easily told. She has a charm and sweetness of manner that appeal to everyone and easily capture all who meet her. Her control over the magic carpet has imparted growth to the whimsical side of her nature. So often has she been tempted to dream and has succumbed to its charms that we have actually found her becoming absent-minded! In her case, this weakness has rendered her only more lovable. Vet Berne is a dreamer who does also. As President of the Literary Society and Vice-President of the Undergraduate Association she displays ability and lends personality to their gatherings. Mot only is she a lover of poetry but. all too seldom, a writer of it. It is no slight regret of ' Twenty- six that this aspect of her nature has not been for too often has the Muse been denied .full sway, Math is also an object of her interest and apparently offers no conflict with her liter- ary pursuit, and in phil- osophy she .-.hows an acumen many of us would like to possess. Her ever present sin- cerity and idealism with their appeal to the high- er and better side of our nature have drawn to her not one but many whom she may verily call friend. . hid her face so fair, stirred with her dreams, as rose leaves with the air. S t r e ii g t h beauty are clothing. ■ — Pro and her 4 54fr MARY S. GREENE IX sophomore year, .Mary received the qualifying adjectives, calm, cqbl, an l collected. and they have remained her peculiar property throughout her years at college. Nothing on earth has even been known to ruffle the serenity of Mary ' s scud. Mary ' s subtle wit is one f her biggest assets. Hers is not merelv a comic flash, nor a propensity for punning, but a true humor. She is the possessor of the rare gift of being able to say the must ordinary things in the most extraordinarily funny way. The enjoyable part of it is that Mary never laughs at her own joki • Ask anyone what is .Mary ' s major. The answer is evident in her ability to correlate historj with practically every other lessen. It matters not whether the class he in philosophy. English, pedagogy or any other subject in which sin- is mi, -rest ed, Mary is always able to furnish historical data. At such times, we see what can he wrested from a college training. ' thou be asked twice, I e t thy answer be short. — Ei c i i With thee con- versing, I forget all time. 111 seasons am! their change, all please- alike. 4 55 )3- MARGARET J. HOWARD MARGARET, the girl of contrasting moods, frank, reserved: gay, serious; whimsical, reflective. Which .Margaret do we love best? All of them, for beneath the mood of the hour is Margaret, the sincere, frank, loyal, thoughtful companion. The power of real enjoyment given those of artistic sensibilities is possessed by Margaret. Carved antiques, old paintings, dainty laces, fragile china, all delight her heart and call forth her enthusiastic appreciation. That our love for the beautiful is not fully cultivated is no fault of Margaret ' s. Music especially has found in her an ardent supporter. Perhaps it is this love that is responsible for those irresitible limericks. With ear ever attuned how can rhyme and rhythm be resisted? Before our eyes in certain classes are often thrust these tuneful jingles inspired by the Muse. ( h. Margaret, if vou onlv wouldn ' t ! The light of love. the purity of grace, The in i ii J , the music breathing from her fare. ' •The flute and psaltery make a S w e e t melody, but a pleasant tone iie is above them both. — Eccli. -4 56 )§«■•■ MARGARET F. JOHNSTON THE President of the U. A. must be the guide of the College in good sense; she must be a dependable leader. Margaret fills these require- ments perfectly. The fact that she was in turn chosen Treasurer. Secretary and [ ' resilient of the organization, is sufficient proof that her personality is striking. Her progressive spirit has been an inspiration to the Council in its reorganization of the Undergraduate Association. Margaret ' s scholarship, especially in mathematics, is second to few. She possesses a keen mind and a remarkable memory. I low she acquires such an apparently unending amount of A ' s without neglecting any of her other interests will always remain a mystery to us. At a basketball game Margaret is a loyal supporter, reach nut only to cheer her team to victory hut. a-- i often the ease, to give up the game in order that tea may be prepared for the team and the guests. Her success in making sandwiches, gained from experience of this kind, is almost unequalled. I [er intellectual capa- bilities, fearlessness, high ideals and executive ability should be of great service in convincing outsiders that Catholic education does produce efficient women. nowledge is a fountain of lift- to him that pos- sesseth it. — Prov. ' No beauty like the beauty of the mind. :-f 57 K MARGARET E. KEENAN HELPFULNESS is a characteristic that has drawn to Marge her friends of ' Twenty-six. Even when engaged in her many and varied interests, she is never too busy to lend a helping hand to any who need it. In addition to this unselfishness, the qualities of directness and frankness of expression have won for Marge the respect that is always given an honest though kindly expressed opinion. Under the influence of Marge ' s smile, depression vanishes. Possibly the secret of her sunny manner is found in her charity. Kindliness in thought, in word, in act, in her trust in her fellowman. will make her place in the world as sunny as she well deserves to have it. As merry as the day is long. Happy is he who had no sadness of Iiis mind. — Eccli. ■4 58 f - MARGARET F. KELLY as Mich. X. assu lied WOULD anyone who was not in the secret almost immediately asso date the name of our dignified, industrious Margaret with a locker- key? Only too frequently lias the entire class been plunged into the deepest concern upon the sudden disappearance of this now famous trifle. Margaret lias chosen French, in which she has achieved an admirable record, for her major subject. Would it be a breach of confidence or a lack of loyaltj were we to insinuate that the devotion is directed not only towards the study of the language but equally towards Mademoiselle J Margaret is the most serious minded and one of the most conscientious members of Twenty-six. Life to her is a God-given trust to be accepted task is omitted, no suggestion disregarded. The Margaret with the ever- ready word of praise or encouragement, with the unquenchable thirst for knowledge, and most of all with the unswerving faith in Divine Wisdom, is a personality not easily to lie forgotten. Nor is it platitudinous to add that in the little things, so essential to greater achievements, Margaret h a s never been found wanting. The hearing ear and eye, the the SeeilUJ I. ord hath made them both. — Prov. G e n 1 1 e wo ' , nls. quiet words, are often All the most p IW- erf ul words. ' ♦H 5 ' 4 HELEN R . KILGALLEN QUIET and unobtrusive, sympathetic and loyal, Helen has been an inspiration to those of her class who have the rare good fortune to call her friend. Never forcing her opinion upon others, quietly waiting until it is asked, she frankly and sweetly contributes her thought. When the honor of the class or even its lesser interests are at stake, Helen willingly sacrifices her preferences and undertakes whatever is asked of her. Such qualities as these have endeared her to all. The} 1 will serve not only to retain the old friends but to attract all those who value the finer qualities of womanhood. Of softest man- ners, unaffected , Lover of peace, and friend of all mankind. Hear in silence, and for thy rev- erence g o o d grace shall come to thee. — Eccli. ■4 60 }ge KATHRYN T. KILGALLEN K ATHKYX TERESITA is one of those rare individuals about whom volumes could be written. Perhaps she is best described as being truly typical of the ultra-modern college girl. As a mathematician, philosopher, athlete, dancer, and most of all as an executive, Kay ranks high in our annals. From her good sense and excellent management of our Junior and Senior Proms resulted the glory and fame of both functions. But ' Twenty-six loves to think rather of the Kay with the wittiest remarks imaginable. In many classes has one of her witticisms saved some situation from assuming the proportions of a catastrophe. Kay at a basketball game is good to behold. Her speedy and clever work ha- earned for her the position of guard on the ' Varsity since her earliest days at College. All know the Kay who tights n to roll up the score despite a badly wrenched ankle and a feeling id weakness. The serious side of Kay ' s nature is not often manifest but that there . joyful nan, I ; s a se rious side is a Nothing great in a k e h age certainty. Her creed is was ever achiev- flourishing. t li.it responsibility is a e d without •;;- — Prov. sacred char R e and abs0 thusiasm. lute fairness the only policy in all things. In after years there will come to us the re- collection of Kay, the center of an admiring group, Kay of the spark- ling personality, sunny disposition and deep sense of humor. -4 61 ■ DORIS C. LEAVY DORIS ' S opinions on a variety of subjects are often original and always arrived at after careful thought. And we can be sure that Doris will hold to her ideas because she always has the courage of her convictions, and never fails to present a strung argument in their favor. Many interesting experiences have been Doris ' s. We catch glimpses of them when she is called upon in Oral Knglish Class. Not only can she relate them amusingly, but she draws from them philosophical reflections that more than interest her classmates. We shall always remember the story that Doris tells about her practical experience with journalism. Doris has journalistic aspirations, and she has already discovered the unlimited energy requisite for the life of a journalist. But hard work will not daunt her. Rather, it will inspire her to exhibit the characteristic conscien- tiousness and earnest- ness that have made her successful in her studies throughout the college course. The class of ' Twenty-six is look- ing forward to the day when this one of its members will bring fame to her name in the lit- erary field. Insist on yourself, never imitate. ' To speak a word in due time is like apples of gold on beds of silver. — Prov. -4 62 ••■ IRENE V. LENT ALL tlit- stars of heaven must have been twinkling on Irene ' s first birthday, to judge from the numerous traits they have bestowed upon her. She is a master of many trades, a versatile young lady and a sincere student. To her, the field of thought is hut a familiar playground. Her mind rises above the lowlier things of earth and soars in triumph to the heights all wish to reach. She is a deep, definite thinker, gifted with an enthusiastic desire to know the reasons of things. Add to this, an energetic worker, and a successful characte r is before you. It was the consciousness of such worth that prompted the class to choose Irene to represent it both in the Court of Honor, and in the Student Committee on Attendance. Her musical and literary ability have done much in furthering the social .••nil journalistic pursuits of our college career. Her scholastic record merits the highest praise. In Irene we have found a generous, kind and sympathetic friend. We will remember her always, as the girl with the frank, sincere coun- tenance, the steadfast loyal character, and the noble soul, who for .four years was our inspira- tion and the embodi- ment of our highest ideals. The wise in hear I shall be called prudent : and he that is sweet in words shall at tain (j r e a t e r things. — Prov. ' The fairest gar- dens in her looks . Ind ill her mind t It e iv i s c s t books. -4 63 ►- MARY J. LYNCH IT would be difficult to sav in which Mary is most interested — mathe- matics, music or athletics. She has dime notable work in all three. Mathematics holds so powerful an attraction for her that she can never devote too much time to the solution of a problem. She never misses violin practice with the orchestra; and is ever ready to favor an affair of any society with a welcome solo. Athletics, too. have a staunch supporter in Mary. She can advance excellent reasons why ever}- girl in the class should go out for some sport. More than once has she saved the day for St. Joseph ' s in a basketball game. Can we ever forget the memorable game with Hunter, after which the newspapers carried the information that Miss Lynch makes twenty- six points in a score of 30-23 in favor of St. Joseph ' s College ? Despite her other in- terests, Mai - } will re- main longest in our minds because of her kind-heartedness a n d willingness. Her good will has not been con- fined to any one pursuit — in athletics, scholastic and social activities she has given generously of her time and energv. ' The Inn- a )i d strong mind is one that ran em- b r a c e equally ureal things ami small. ' Whatsoever thy hand is able to do. do it earnest- ly. — Eccli. Sf 64 }; MAY I . B. MAGRATH THERE are smiles and smiles, hut there is none quite like Maj Magrath ' s. We appreciate it the mure hecause it reveals her person- ality at once. Wistful and charming, she makes one think of lavender and bid lace of all that is gentle and refined. May is demure and ingenuous — two qualities that serve to enhance her attractiveness. There is only one mystery that we have not been able to fathom thus far. h does .May always wear green, whether it he an entire dress or only a tiny bow of ribbon? Her answer to this question is always a smile. May ' s disposition is one which we should like to possess — one of per- fect equanimity. Being always the same pleasant companion has drawn to her a circle of real friends who value the pleasure of knowing- her. In scholastic work, .May is sincere and earnest. She has proved that it is 1 1 i i - s i 1, 1 c to combine faithfulness to stud y Willi all the pleasures The token of a and joys that come to a good heart and a c ,°? le student— and in , this her [our years 1 counten course may be said to be ance, thou shall supremely successful. hardly find and with labour. Men help each other by their joy and not their ton ow. El Ml . -4 65 fr mary e. McDonnell AX epitome of friendly pertness — that ' s .Mary Mac. It was partly fur this quality that Mary was elected class secretary in Freshman year. - She has retained that responsible post for four years, faithfully per- forming the varied duties which it entails. Mary has always been ready to aid her class in any of the functions it has managed — whether it be in delighting- her audience with a vocal selection, or in exercising her executive powers. In truth, without this last ability, the success of Loria. and especially of the Footprints number, could not have been assured. Recog- nition of Mary ' s worth has culminated in her gaining the editor ' s chair on our publication. The members of the staff can testify that she has in this capacity exhibited her characteristic self-possession, tact, optimism, and spirit of self-sacrifice — all so essential in a work of this kind. Mary is one member of that trio known as the French Majors. It is the more remarkable that she has attained a splendid record in all her studies as she has de- voted so much time in augmenting class and college spirit. . . . .heard zvords that have been so nimble, and so full of subtle flame. She knoweth the s u b til tie s of speeeli and the s o lit t i o n s of arguments. — WlSD. -■«§f 66 )§►•■ AGNES V. McSHANE THIS dark-haired, brown-eyed Miss is gifted with the ready wit and the quick and sure perceptions that mark the race of her ancestors. yuiet and unobtrusive, she can. nevertheless, be the gayest of the throng. She is brief in all things, with the brevity that is the soul of wit. Agnes is capable, but it is not until the completion of an affair she has conducted that her great ability is revealed. Always ready t give gener- ously of her resourceful energy, she has manifested herself a wise I . A. Councillor and a loyal member of the class. One of the finest of Vgnes ' qualities is her sincerity. Her opinion, given kindly and truthfully, is valued and respected. Another outstanding characteristic is her optimism. Xo matter how black the sky may lie. Agnes has the happy faculty of catching the gleam of the silver. Her mot- to seems to be Every- thing comes, not to him who waits, but to him who works. This may be the secret, too, of Agnes ' invaluable serv- ice to the A ' arsity. It is with her help and her efforts that the team has mi often fought its way to victory. There is gold and a multitude of jewels, but the lips of knowl edge arc a prec- ious vessel. Prov. Who mixed rea son with pleas- ure and wisdom with mirth. 4 67 £. MARY L. MIRABELLA MARY reflects the very essence of Old World culture and charm. We glimpse it in her manner, which is always gracious and pleasing, in the sunshine of her smile and in the music of her voice, which has a unique fascination peculiarly Mary ' s own. One of her most absorbing interests is study of languages. Her lin- guistic ability is truly remarkable. When we have heard her helping another girl with a translation, the ease with which the work progressed caused us to stare in amazement and admiration. But Mary ' s chief delight is found in music. We have often, but all too infrequently, enjoyed her playing at our entertainments. Naturally retiring and unassuming, she tries to escape the attention which her skill as a pianist brings ; but with true class and college spirit, Mary disregards her own feelings and sweet- ly obliges us at our musicales. Indeed this particularly character- The mild expres- sion s poke a mind in duty firm, composed, resigned. istic of her at all times. Yet Mary seems un- conscious of her varied accomplishments. Per- haps this is so because she values as pleasures the opportunities that arise for assisting others. ' A time to keep silence a n d a time to speak. — Eccli. •H 68 ; GERTRUDE M. MURPHY «T ' LL help you. Is there anyone who uses these words oftener or with greater sincerity than Gertrude? No matter how great or disagreeable the task, no matter how busily she may be engaged, she is always ready to lend a helping hand. Forgetful of self, thinking only of others, she is ever ready to sympathize and encourage. Not counting the cost, nor considering her own suffering, she gives to others what she herself has often sorely needed — strength and ci mil ' i r t . In the face of seemingly unsnrmountable difficulties (though handi- capped by an enforced prolonged absence i by sheer force of her determina- tion to reach the goal. Gertrude kept up the fight, and to the admiration of all her classmates, succeeded in earning full credits. Sympathetic, unselfish, courageon . Gertrude has been an inspiration to US all. .V v ill path y is s w e e I e r than philosophy. Be not wanting in comforting them that weep, and walk with them that mourn. — Eccli. - 4 69 f EILEEN R. MURRAY EILEEN is a girl whose individuality and strength become more marked as time advances. She is undoubtedly one of the future truly famous members of ' Twenty-six. We have always found her active, with widely varied interests. Hers is a commanding nature, cue born to lead. She is an orator of no mean skill. Her poise on the platform and her ability to relate herself to her audience have long been a source of envy to us. Eileen is very fond of jokes, but she has a definite barrier of reserve, beyond which no one is permitted to pass. No matter what the situation, she is always able to preserve her dignity. We sincerely regret that we did not realize the full extent of her execu- tive power prior to Junior Year. As Business Manager of this issue of Loria she has worked tirelessly and steadily to secure complete success. If she continues in the path indicated by her talents, perhaps we may find her in the near fu- ture in the ranks of the Stateswomen or prom- dig- inent women executives of the country. Ease with nity. ' A cheerful and good heart is always feasting. — Ecci.i. -4 70 ) • GLADYS K. REARDON SINCE Gladys is the other twin, one naturally expects her disposition to resemble Eleanor ' s. Nor are we disappointed. She radiates sunshine, for she is that rare combination of ■ ' sweetness and light. We have not a single instance of Gladys missing a prom, a theatre party or any other social event. Her return after Christmas, and her success in spite of the double handi- cap of absence and illness, are proof positive of an indomitable spirit and a capable mind. It is our sincere hope that she will continue to surmount all future obstacles as courageously. We feel that tribute must be paid the twins for the tine example they have shown us. Their friendship has been as true and as firmly founded as we expect to find at any time or in any place. A faithful friend is a strong de- fense; and he Ihat ha Ih found him hath found a treasure. — Eccli. tbove our life we love a s teadfast friend. 4 71 ► MAREITTA C. ROCKEFELLER I ' M all out of breath. I ran all the way. From Patchogue ? No — from Flatbush Station. More than once has that happened. But what do such trifles mean to one whose life is hound up in Patchogue, Past Quogue and The Sunrise Trail? Although Mareitta arrives breathless, she is never too exhausted to smile. Her smile brings upon her a large number of requests. Since she is too generous to refuse, she usually finds herself with plenty to do. More- over, she has voluntarily assumed many a burden to help someone else, but the fact that so doing increases her tasks makes no difference. Her literary ability has made her known within and without the College. The richness of her mind and her depth of feeling are seen in the products of her pen. The honor of being Class Historian was conferred on her. and be it said to her credit and our good judgment, we have not been disappointed in her. Mareitta as Stella Maris president is ef- ficient, trustworthy and ambitious for the furth- erance of the Circle ' s activities. The reception of the Freshmen into the Society will be memor- able. It was then that Mareitta allowed her full interest its widest play, to the great pleas- ure of us who looked on and admired. Her ways a r e ways of pleas- antness and all her paths are peace. ' ■hid every exe el- lent work shall he justified: and the a ' c r k e r thereof shall be honored there- in. — F.CCLI. ■4 72 } ANNA M . SCHNEIDER ' ' ■ T I ' -T ' S see, yon owe me — , introduces our treasurer, who has been, through the four years of college, a marvelous collector, not only of money, but ■ more especially of friends, Anna has proved her diligence by minute and accurate records of our financial interests. Her earnestness and capa- bility are the characteristics that have made her a good student, a loyal classmate, and an untiring mission worker. Anna ' s optimism and thought- fulness have been equal to the worst emergency, including the rescue of locked in Seniors. But Anna is not always serious. We have no better instance of her humor and of her ability to entertain than the day we responded to her Let ' s play Math. Anna ' s genius for good company is more than occasional; it is Iter entire self. Anions Anna ' s envi- able characteristics, is her willingness to receive criticism. This open- mindedness bespeaks many other noble qual- ities, but it is undoubt- edly Anna ' s beautiful faith and love of her re- ligion that have endear- ed her to all of us. The thoughts of tlw in dustrious always h r i ' I 9 fori h abund- ance. — -Prov ■■That best p or t ion of a good man ' s life His little, nameless, unre memb • r e d acts of k ' ll, ' dness and love. 4 73 , • MARIE C. SHEEHAN MARIE is one of the most cheerful people we know, always ready with a bright smile and a word that goes far toward helping us over a troubled way. Her fund of amusing stories — many of them personal mishaps — that are told in an entertaining manner, make her a con- genial companion at all times. Her good nature and generosity are seconded by her loyalty. Her sympathy is ever present and she is more than willing to do anything that can be of assistance. Somehow or other, she seems to do the little things than mean so much and which most of us pass by without notice. Marie ' s aid at many of our entertainments has been very practical. Her little poems are always enjoyable. ' Twenty-six owes many class songs and occasional verses to her ability to burst into rhythmic measures at the slight- est suggestion. Her optimism a n d fortitude are the bul- wark of a character which bespeaks the good friend, the congenial classmate and the best of comforters. ' A friend in a y well be reckoned a masterpiece of nature. I sweet w o r d in ultiplieth friends. — Eccli. H{74) - FRANCES L. SMITH OX first meeting Frances, we were at once impressed by her sincerity and her winsome smile. It is her delightful grace and charm that make her so attractive. Feminine in her appeal and calm in her manner, she wins us with a word or gesture. Frances is not easily disturbed. She is always perfectly poised and at home, whether it be in the Sanctum in the midst of her large circle of friends, or in class with a professor who lias an unfortunate habit of asking for a recitation at the wrong time. On the speaker ' s platform, addressing an audience, as President of the Dramatic Society, or in the kitchen, as chairman of a refreshment committee, this same self-possessed young lady comes to the rescue and saves the day for St. Joseph ' s. The Dramatic Society was indeed fortunate in having Frances as Presi- dent during its first year of existence. She has proved her efficiency by her skillful management of its affairs. The suc- cess of this year ' s plays is in a large measure due to her foresight and . man amiable in society shall be m o r e friendly than a brother. ■ — Prov. Simplicity is the strength of the great. - 2{75fc - HELEN M. STEWART ARE you familiar with the sound of a rippling brook? Then you know Helen ' s laugh. It is most spontaneous and sparkling. Her laugh is only one phase of an attractive personality. It seems to be the easiest thing in the world for Helen to make friends. She just draws people to her. She is one of the jolliest, or if need he. the most sympathetic of companions. In our early history. Helen was one of our numerous commuters and had to remember an extensive railroad schedule as well as her social engage- ments. Now that she has joined the ranks of the city-dwellers, the necessit} of rushing frantically for a train is obviated. Instead, we hear, especially after five o ' clock classes. Helen ' s familiar. Well, who ' s coming to Freye ' s? Helen ' s scholastic interest is centered in history. Re it said, however, that not so long ago all studies fascinated her equally. as she showed when the time arrived to select a subject for specialization. Helen loves to dance. We sometimes wonder if she is not a descend- ant of the nymphs of by- gone days, so graceful and proficient is she in the Terpsichorean art. She has danced herself into the affections of her classmates. Her jovial, cheerful disposition and her good nature have made her a popular member of ' Twentv--i. . ' . hid unextinguish- ed I a it h I e r shakes the skies. A ilad h e a r t makcth a cheer- ful c a it 11 t e n- anee. — 1 ' kov. - :| 76 fe HELYNE ST. C. STRAUB HELYNE is the only one of our number who has chosen to penetrate deeply into the secrets of the ancient Latin scholars. Apparently she derives great enjoyment from a perusal of their historic docu- ments. Certainly she never seems to Be the least bit troubled at the prospect of a difficult translation for the morrow. But Helyne ' s ability is by rio means exclusively scholastic. In the field of art we have seen numerous exhibitions of it. There were, first of all. her attractive posters which not only delighted the eye but proved a great asset in furthering the success of proms and lectures. And in addition Helyne possesses a fine musical power that has entertained and charmed us more than once. With an unruffled countenance and a pleasing smile she treads the even tenor of her way-. It i- thi- charm at manner that puts us at our ease at once. But it is long- er acquaintance that The memory of grves us deeper insight h e abundance and appreciation of the o I thy sweet- depths of a warm, sym- ness. — Ed I I pathetic nature. ' .I beautiful face is a silent mendation. ■ Tf . HELEN L. WEIDEN IN Helen we have the unusual combination of the practical and the ideal- istic. The practical side of her nature is evidenced in her inclination towards mathematics ; the idealistic finds expression in her music. We have always appreciated Helen ' s desire to co-operate. She has never offered less than her best in her attempts to make class affairs suc- cessful. We are sure that her good will, her fastidiousness and her likeable- ness will draw to her as many friends in the future as they have attracted in the past. Helen has upheld the honor of ' Twenty-six in every social function of the College. We were amused at first at her little engagement book, but subsequent observation has proved it a very valuable article. With this record, Helen has nevertheless been acknowledged as one of our most conscien- tious students. Not in one study only, but in all has she shown the enviable result which must follow faithful preparation and the pur- ' A daughter of the gods, divinely tall, and most divinely fair. suit of knowledge. ;; the cheerful- ness of the king ' s countenance is life. — Prov. ■4 78 h « I 79 }■ r« j u 4 80 )§«• ■f. J. 4 81 Moth er WHO but a mother can understand the richness and the depth of that blessed word? Only those who have gone down into the Valley of the Shadow are able to comprehend the full measure of the agony, the sorrow that a mother can endure for the sake of her God-sent treasures. Mother alone realizes that there can be no shrinking, nt withdrawing from the bitter sweetness ol sacrifice. But the travail of the spirit causes more poignant sorrow and requires greater courage than that of the flesh. Patiently toiling, watching, guarding, training, giving all — she is a willing victim on the altar of love. It is this immolation, this self-effacement that remain longest in the memory. Chil- dren do not appreciate the fulness of a mother ' s love and the steepness of her way until it is too late. How sharp are the pangs of remorse follow- ing the realization that opportunities for showing love and appreciation are no more. Long-forgotten details arise with startling vividness — memories of delight then seemingly insignificant that were surrendered by Mother: possible ways of lightening her burden that were carelessly ignored; the man}- thoughtless acceptances of sacrifices that she made so smilingly — all rise up like spirits of reproach, murmuring Too late ! Too late ! No, there is no adequate return that can be made to a mother. 1 he richest reward for her life of selflessness is found in the subsequent lives of her children. It is found in the fulfillment of those dreams induced when baby fingers, pink and warm, crept so confidingly about her neck, in pure embrace. Who knows a mother ' s dreams? Who can put into words the sacredness of the prayer that is breathed for the children of her love? The days lengthen out into months and months grow into years and the girl of jester eve is a woman of today. And Mother ' s love has pervaded these years like a subtle fragrance, like an unheard melody. Mother! A name so sacred that angels must bend low when it is whispered. A name so full of thought, so rich with feeling, so nearly approaching thoughts of Heaven, that we associate with it all that is happiest, best, holiest. Mother. The infant lips of Christ whispered it. the dying heart of Christ beat in unison with the heart of her whom He called Mother. Mother. The name is hallowed, the vocation sacred. The thought and understanding of a mother ' s love will be an inspiration, beckoning on to higher, nobler lives, until eternity touches with a golden hue the invisible halo which is her crown of glory. mary e. McDonnell, ' 26. -4 82 )§►•- Alumnae Notes ONCE more it is the privilege and pleasure of the Alumnae to take its place in the annals of our Alma Mater. Since our inception it lias always been our desire to be a part of St. Joseph ' s though we could no longer he numbered among her student body. To foster and continue the friendships formed at College is one of the three-fold purposes of our organization — but these friendships can never he separated from the parent of their being — our College. And so we have found it. What is her interest is ours, and whatever success we achieve, whatever recognition we obtain, whatever place we take in the world of women ' s organizations, it is our wish to reflect the ideal of Catholic womanhood that she in our College days inculcated. And she in turn has encouraged our endeavors at all times. If we glorv in her rapid growth, her high standards, and her recognition in the educational world, we ask that it be not thought a selfish pride, but rather an honest joy in the prosperity and merit that has gone to our Alma .Mater. It is undeniably true that as her attainments increase, in the same measure will we advance as a representative Alumnae in the eyes oi the world. But it is also true that were she to remain the little unknown College of her formative years we would love her just the same for Friendship above all ties doth hind the heart .liul faith in friendship is the noblest part. nd such is the friendship she has awakened in the heart of each Alumna. In this spirit we have entered upon the sixth year of our life as an Alumnae. With the reception of the Class of 1925 our members passed the one hundred mark and with this increase we hope for greater achievements than ever before. Although our year is not yet finished, we have realiz ed in a large measure our expectations. Our Alumnae Dance at the Plaza on November 23. marked the open- ing of our social calendar. Under the able chairmanship of Miss Gertrude Roberts, ' 23, the dance proved a delightful affair. The card party for the Alumnae Perpetual Scholarship Fund was held on [anuarv 23, at the new K. of C. Clubhouse. Socially and financially this proved to be the most successful of our annual parties. To Miss Regina Munz, ' 24. goes the credit for its huge success. Miss Munz headed the Committee as Chairman and the result of her untiring efforts was the presence of some six hundred guests on the afternoon of the party. It was most enjoyable and we feel sure that all who were present will look forward with great pleasure to next year ' s event. January brought us another tie to bind us closer to our Alma Mater. It was the Alumn ae Room which came to us in the completion of the new College house. The spacious and beautiful parlor that is for our exclusive use. we hope (through committees selected for this purpose) to have suitably fur- nished ere this season closes. And perhaps, the intimac) thus more closely established between Alumnae and College, and the real enjoyment we know; we are going to find in this new possession, our own nook in the home of our Alma Mater, will express more eloquently and adequately our apprecia- tion of her thought for us than any verbal thanks could ever do. The Alumnae Room was formally opened on Palm Sunday. This was the occasion of our Fifth Annual Communion and Breakfast. Our Right Reverend Bishop celebrated Mass for us in the College Chapel, at which a choir of Alumnae members under the direction of Mrs. Win. J. Plant. ' 20. our President, sang. 4 83 )§ Miss Veronica Harmon, ' 22. was the soloist. Breakfast followed in the Alumnae Room, which had been beautifully decorated with yellow jonquils and white narcissus, carrying out the College colors in the floral setting. Miss Kathleen Dugan. ' 24, was the chairman for the daw We had as our guest of honor our Right Reverend Bishop, but unfortunately he was called away before we had the pleasure of a talk from him. Our other guests included the Reverend Wm. T. Dillon. J.D., Monsignor Belford, Dr. James |. Walsh. .Mrs. Thomas A. McGoldrick and Miss Helen McCormack. Miss Dorothy Willman, ' 25 made a very charming toastmistress. Doctor Dillon fittingly closed the morning with Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament in the College Chapel. Our second annual dramatic performance was held in the College Audi- torium in the early part of May. This year we chose three one-act plays: Joint Owners in Spain, Cinderella Married. and T he Rector. The production was under the direction of Miss Walsh of the College Faculty. Miss Agnes Connolly, ' 23, was chairman. The Alumnae Luncheon, held the Saturday of Commencement week, completed our season ' s programme. We could not close these accounts without mention of Alumnae Day. Of course we had looked forward with pleasure to the afternoon of April fifteenth, hut it far exceeded even our greatest anticipations. From Margaret Johnston ' s welcome to the close of Doctor Dillon ' s inspiring talk on Ideals. the programme was delightful. And of course everyone enjoyed tea; hut it was the spirit of the day that impressed us most. We were made to feel that the dav had been planned especially for us. It was our day and everyone at College did her utmost to make us happy. We are indeed grateful to every- one concerned. It was a perfect day. We cannot say more except to express the hope that this was the beginning of many such days and that each succeeding Alumnae Day will bring with it the spirit of good fellowship and happiness that this first one surely brought. Personal Notes Events in the individual lives of Alumnae members are always of particu- lar interest to the Alumnae as a whole. It is especially interesting in an organization s,, small as ours to watch each individual take her place in the scheme of things. Since our last recording, we take pleasure in announcing the marriages of Christine Gibson, ' 24, to Lewis Dougherty. Charlotte Nolan. ' 23, to E. Robert Manning. Marion Aubert. ' 25, to Thomas McDonald. And we rejoice to announce that a son. John, was born to Mr. and Mrs. John J. McManus, Jr. i Marion Clarke. ' 20) daughter. Anne, was born to Mr. and Mrs. Edward I. Dannemiller. (Anna McDonald. ' 20) daughter. Florence, was born to Mr. and Mrs. Palmer Doyle. (Marion McKenna, ' 21) daughter. Doris Marie, was born to Mr. and Mrs. Howard S. Janton. (Theresa Dolan, ' 24 ! son. James, was born to Mr. and Mrs. George Bryan. (Rita Fearon, ' 24 i 4 S4 f - In the interest of our Alma Mater we cannot refrain from noting the prevalence of little girls. Adding to these, Patricia Brady, Joan McManus, and Marion Doyle, we hail this sextet into the Class of S. J. C. in 194 well, somewhere in the nineteen forties! We haven ' t quite decided where we will gel John McManus 111 and James Bryan in, but perhaps a few pro- fessorships will In- open fur them by the time they are ready fur them. Into the scholastic world St. Joseph ' s Alumnae still sends a goodh number. This year we find among those aspiring to an M.A.: Ruth McCormack, ' _ ' l Katherine Keely, ' 2.i Cecile Cassidy, ' 2.? Roselyn Weiden, ' 23 Agnes Connolly, ' 23 Dorothy Willman, ' 2.1 Kathleen Dugan, ' 24 Mildred Hayes, ' 24 Margaret Lennon, ' 23 . l.n St. John, ' 24 Alice McGrane, ' 24 Marion Teaken, ' 24. Regina Munz, ' 24 ' 2o — Dr. Amalia Simonetti represents St. Joseph ' s Alumnae at Holy Trinity I [i ispital. Annusciata Scibilia is a studenl at Fordham Law School. ' 21 — Grace Byrne has been appointed teacher of history in high school. ' 22- Alary Huschle has recently passed the New York State liar Examination. ' 23 — Margaret Lennon has been appointed one of the assistants to Dr. Tilly of Columbia as teacher of Oral English. ' 24 — Regina Munz has passed the examination for teacher of mathematics in secondary schools. « i INSTANCE DOYLE, ' 2 T 85 t. Alumnae Directory Miss Amy Bonnet 302 Warren Street Mrs. Rita Fearon Bryan I Intel Tourraine, Brooklyn ( -Mrs. George) Miss Agxes Byrne D ' Youville College, Buffalo, N. Y. (Sister St. Geraldine) .Miss Grace Byrne 935 Lincoln Place .Miss Hflex Campbeli 187 Washington Park .Miss Adaline Canning 212 8th Street Miss Cecile Cassidy 2318 82nd Street Miss Concepta Castellano 274 Washington Avenue Miss Helen Caulfield 149 Rutland Road Miss Agnes Connolly .374 Adelphi Street Miss Caroline Corcoran . .222 East 31st Street Miss Agnes Corry 167 Quincv Street Miss Sylvia Corsiglia 282 President Street Miss Helen D ' Albora 52 94th Street Mrs. Anna McDonald Daxxemiller. . . 107 New York Avenue (Mrs. Edward) Miss Dorothy Dempsey 61 Saratoga Avenue. Yonkers, X. Y. Miss Iertrude Dilworth 8938 116th Street Miss Cecelia Dolan 302 Meeker Avenue Miss Angela Donaldson 453 6th Street Mrs. Christine Gibson Dougherty 7409 Fourth Avenue i Mrs. Lewis I Miss Constance Doyle 1046 Hollywood Ave., Far Rockaway, N. Y. Mrs. Marian McKenna Doyle 149 Grant Avenue. Jersey City, X. J. ( Mrs. Palmer) Miss Agxita Duffy 143 South Portland Avenue Mis- Mildred Duffy St. Elizabeth ' s Convent. Cornwall. Pa. I Sister Consuela Main i Miss Kathleen I ugan 122 Bay 22nd Street Miss Evangeline Flinn Convent of Good Shepherd, Peekskill, (Sister M. St. Francis of Assisi i . Y. Miss Virginia Fox 6915 Fifth Avenue Miss Filomena Giorgio 8913 88th St., Woodhaven, L. I. Miss Ethel Gleason 9123 St. Charles Court, Woodhaven, L. I. Miss Alice Irainger 8201 Colonial Road M iss Isabel Hall 473 Washington Avenue Miss Catherine Hannon 1248 Dean Street Miss Veronica Hannon 898 Belmont Avenue Miss Elsa Harper 177 Fenimore Street Miss Mildred Hayes 1 Miller Place. Baldwin. L. I. Miss Agxes Hfarxs 15 Madison Street Miss Viola Hearns 201 Hancock Street Miss Eleanor 1 low akd 210 Rugby Road Miss Mary Huschle 241 Hillside Avenue. Jamaica Mrs. Teresa Dolan [anton 3700 Chichester Avenue, Richmond (Mrs. Howard) Hill. X. Y. Miss Teresa Keane 57 Van Brren Street - {86 - .Miss Catherine Keely 2016 East 19th Street Miss Ethel Kellam 3712 Fort Hamilton Parkwaj M iss Ruth Kr mer 624 Sixth Street Miss Ruth Lavin 42 Willet Street, Jamaica Miss Margaret Lennon 121 Brooklyn Avenue Miss Mki en Livellara 149 Patchen Avenue Miss Catherine Lynch 44 Johnson Street , l ess M vrgaret Lynch 264 Garfield Place Miss Lucv Macuire 135 East 30th Street, New York City M iss Ellen Manning 273 Ocean Parkway Mrs. Charlotte Nolan Manning ( Airs. Robert) Miss Rita McCaffrey 581 Carlton Avenue Miss Muriel McCarthy 522 8th Street Miss Marie McConneli 925 Putnam Avenue Miss Ruth McCormack 323 Lincoln Road Miss Anna McDonald 210 Albany Avenue Mrs. Marion Aubert McDonald 13013 Hillside Avenue, Richmond (Mrs. Thomas) Hill, N. V. Miss Mary McGinnis 434 74th Street Miss Alice Mc( Irane 326 Bainbridge Street Miss Hortense McGrevy 43 Roanoke Avenue. Far Rockaway. L. I. Miss Catherine McKenna 1431 Avenue ( ' .. Miss Cecelia McLaughlin 1485 Fast 12th Street Mrs. Marian Clarke McManus 311 Lincoln Place (Mr., rohn) Miss Marie McMurray 3069 Villa Avenue, Fordham, N. Y. Miss Margaret Meehan 553 First Street Miss Rosalind Molesphin i 587 16th Street Miss Ellen Monaghan 1648 Weeks Avenue, Bronx Miss Maio Moore 404 F. 118th Street. X. Y. C Miss Regina Munz 801 Willoughby Avenue Miss Florence Newm .n 277 Carroll Street Miss Marjorie Nolan 1030 Ditmas Avenue Miss Graci ' Brien 1758 East 14th Street Miss Ida ( I ' Connor 982 Sterling Place Miss Irene I ' Dwyer 473 Washington Avenue Miss Catherine O ' Hale 222 Walworth Street Miss Claire ( ) ' M alley 635 West 174th Street Miss Emily O ' Mara 9 Palmetto Street Mi s Mariw  ' Reilly 405 Union Street Miss M vrgaret rmonde 1258 Rogers Avenue M iss 1 If.i.en 1 ' arks 1039 Prospect Place Miss Agnes Pattison 1166 Pacific Street Mrs. Florence Nolen Plant St. Albans, X. V. ( Mrs. William J.) Miss ( ' .race Reynolds 1420 Nostrand Avenue Miss Beatrh i Kick 755 Monroe Streel Miss Gertrude Roberts 6744 Ridge Boulevard Mrs. Serin Cai i Rocca 1100 Ocean Avenue ( Mrs. Pietro) Miss 1 ii.lian Roche 1210 John St.. Far Rockaway, L. I. Miss M rgaret Roche 8725 114th St.. Richmond Hill ♦4 87 )3- Miss Agnes Roland 1001 Larimer Street Miss Annunciata Scibilia 1 140 55th Street Miss Catherine Shannon 135 Madison Street Miss Mary Sheridan 442 8th Street M ISS ( rENEVIEVE Sheridan 442 8th Street Miss Ethel Sherrie 742 Second Avenue, N. Y. C. I )r, Amalia Simonetti 276 Essex Street Miss Muriel Simpson 84 Sterling Place Miss Mary St. John 1329 East 10th Street Miss Marian Teaken 1567 56th Street Miss Kathleen Thompson 149 Willow Street M iss Rosamond Thompson- St. Joseph ' s Convent, I ' .rentwood, (Sister Marie Therese) N. V. Miss S u.ly Todd 402 Sterling Place Miss Marie Uhlinger 71 Forest Parkway Miss Mildred Vitale 919 Bedford Avenue Miss Rosilyn Weiden 803 Willoughby Avenue Miss M rgaret White 255 Stuyvesant Avenue Miss Dorothy Willman 877 Park Place •4 88 )§ VEnvoi I .m h soul glides silent through its world. As veiled Sisters go : Each heart guards a little jewel box Of thoughts that after glow. Within this hook are thoughts we ' ve cull ' d : For you may each one lie A gem set in a grain of gold. To glow in memory. MAREITTA ROCKEFELLER, ' Jo. 4 89 f - Autographs H2SSMGSW ■4 90 }§►•- Autographs i3S5nSS o - f91fr- Autographs tdtt(FI5J ■••$92}ie - ■