St Josephs College - Footprints Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

Page 15 text:

Follies I ' ROU HiL ' K In X ' anity Iviir all things are sold, And (|ueer arc- the tales by the venders told Of tollies and foibles, fad and frill. Of many familiar folk to fill A transitory hour; and oft The vender holds her dolls aloft For wrinkled age and grinning mjiuIi To gaze on at the Fashion Booth, 1-Aer shouting stridendy : — My dolls! They walk! They talk! Come, see! Thev dress in style, wear modish clothes, Affect |ueer speech and stunning jjose, Their ways familiar in sjjeech and gait, You ' ve seen them all — just gaze and wait. Come closer ; here are dolls from college. Watch them do-e— Youth— lM)lly—Kiio ie lge. Lady ( winding first doll ) This is Cora. Many abhor her In classes of manv or groui)s (jt few The Profs ' all injure her through and throu; Corn (. t tirst ilejecteclly, at length excitedl ) There! Fve wasted another period, ril never pass that course. I f I can ' t answer the first time, she keeps on calling on me the rest of the hour. 1 suppose there ' s no one else in tlie class she coul l pick on! If 1 just turn away a minute or start to write or talk— there she is ! Did vou hear that crack she made! Looked right ' at me when she said it ! i ' .esides, the other .kn- . . . . Lady ( i)ressing spring) . nd that ' s enough of her Dora you may ])refer. J oni ( i ' litling about, groans with grim gr;i Uy ) Oil. I don ' t think I am getting through anything tliis term. I ' ll be lucky if I don ' t get any condi tions. 1 iirobablv won ' t get a single . . My marks are terrible! When the cards conu— ( )h look! . nother excmi)tion! I never expected it. I wonder how 1 ever got it. 1 1 )■

Page 14 text:

To My Mother and Father e r A Recompense O, for ihc voire of ti thuiul crnui c ittirtirt, Echoinc hack Earth ' s praises to (rod, Or the forest ' s hushed tribute of ( othir splendor, That I icho break this silence b my tread upon the sod, JJ ' hose voice is dro ' icned in eater ' s endless rushnuj, Mu ht make a silent prayer of recompense Or voice my celling gratitude. io}.:»

Page 16 text:

Lady And that ' s Dora of many A s, But I see you ' re wise to her vain ways. Now let ' s watch Flora who went to the I ' rdni. Dining and dancins ' with Jack and Tom. We see her yawning in class toda}-. Not a word of answer has she to say. See her droop, watch her wilt, Smiling coyly, her head a-tilt. The teacher who seeks to probe her knowledge I ' inds since the Prom she ' s forgot about college. Do you not think she ' s quite pathetic? Here ' s Nora — not a bit more magnetic. Noni (Apathetically lounging, doletull} ' sighing, drones) 1 don ' t know what ' s the matter with me this year. I can ' t seem to get down to work. I just can ' t study. It ' s awful ! I don ' t know a thing any- more. (Jh dear, I wish there were no school ! ' What ' s the assignment ? I don ' t even know what we ' re up to .... Lady Once more I must remove our boresonie friend, But surely you all know her trend. A classmate old, who I fear, Spends many a night and many a tear Laboring with lessons far ahead. And early next morning gets up from her loed. Hurries to school, and once she is there. Lounges and sighs and seems unaware. The last little doll has never said What in her mind you ' ve often read. Tlwra ( Sits with pencil in hand lightly poised over blank sheet of paper) Well, I ' ve got to write something for Loria this time — something original, something no one has ever done before. Clever, that ' s it ! That idea I had in class today. I wonder if anyone ever thought of that. Profound! Yes, it is philosophical. I wonder — should I have something riotously funny or something deep — something significant? Let ' s see. Lady ( removing dolls ) So my little dolls, your friends of old, A tale of vanities wisely unfold. Epilorjiic In ' anity Fair all things are sold And queer are the tales by venders tokl. If, perchance, when you ' re visiting there. The dolls you are shown — beware ! beware ! For you yourself may be in the revue And people stand and mock you, too. Then watch lest your lips in scorn be curled All kinds of people make up a world. M. RY LOFTUS, ' 29. ] C fflc€ ::C3= S=S - -4 U