Augsburg College - Augsburgian Yearbook (Minneapolis, MN)

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♦ va ? Where There Is No Vision X the point of land formed by the Wawasso, and the Raven rivers, at the place where they join to form the larger De Raima, lies a small city. Years ago, before the octopus Greed spread his gold-seeking tentacles out over the fruitful country, a lonely trapper coming down the murky Raven had pitched his tent upon this lovely spot. It had become a trading-post for the woodsmen who dared to expose themselves to the dangers of the forests in their quest of From such small proportions it grew, in the course of half a century, into a town of several hundred hardy pioneers, who sustained themselves by cultivat- ing the few acres of tillable land round about. Very few had ever ventured more than twenty miles beyond the edge of the town. The trappers, who had ascended the Wawasso and the Raven to a distance of thirty miles, had reported an end- less tract of forest. The villagers, who had come to till the soil, did not receive these tidings with any manifestations of gladness. The forest was their enemy. It occupied the land which they coveted, and formed a formidable—tho ever- receding—barrier to their conquests. They had migrated from the East and South, where the soil had long been bearing abundant fruit. To them the tree- bedecked land seemed wasted. With wanton carelessness they destroyed the valuable timber and stretched their fields far into the woods. Such was the condition when John Lockwood came into the region. Lock- wood was from Maine, where the forests had already yielded up their wealth. He was a keen, aggressive man, whose greatest ambition lay no higher than that of the average selfish workman, but whose ability to attain that ambition was many times greater. Wealth—untold wealth, wealth acquired by any and all possible means—wealth was his aim. 1 lis shrewd eye perceived the millions lying waiting for the man who should be powerful enough to gather them. Sup- ported by bis influential friends back East, he commenced to harvest the enorm- ous crop of riches. With ruthless inattention to property rights he spread his giant hand over vast tracts of virgin forests. Soon the Wawasso and the Raven were filled with logs. The mighty De Raima kept the saws in his mills whirling. Great rafts of timber annually found their way to the greater cities by the sea. Lockwood was realizing his ambition. Meanwhile the village had grown into a small city. Industry had brought men; and men in return had brought more industry. From everywhere they flocked to this center of that potent attraction—Business. A few brought with them means enough to build homes; but by far the greater number had no material property. Financial derelicts, they had drifted, with the stream of humanity, into this whirlpool of activity. Lockwood had foreseen the necessity of supplying these men with quarters. For the single men he had built large, wealth. PAGE FIFTY-NINE

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$iuirhimi (Club taff aith Kitrbnt (Cablnft” Top Row O. J. Hnulcenens. Selmer Framstad. Mabel Nelson, Palmer Sobcrg. Marius Dixen. Bottom Row—Clara Grand, Mrs. Grand, Jessie Wallmark Augsburg boarding Club The bell has rung! and off to the club we go, for there is no doubt but that we arc the hungriest “bunch” alive. In the dining hall on the third floor of the Old Main, Dixen the boarding boss presides. Of the time we stay at school, some of the meals at the club will never be forgotten. There we meet in mutual fel- lowship and talk of the things that have happened. There is no place where companionship is fostered as where people continually eat at the same table, as some of us do here. We usually are, altogether, about 100 students gathered there for meals, all in good spirit, making the best of everything. Seated as we are, eight at a table, we all do justice to the “eats” as much as those at other tables. Of men who take the liberty to address us here, we note especially one “Shylock”, whose real name is Haukeness, with his appeals for money. It costs to live, and it costs to pay the bills that he gets, so he gently reminds us of “money in advance.” President Dixen often has a little speech for us on various subjects, for as it seems, he has our bodily sustenance on his mind. He is right there, though, for he handles the affairs of the boarding club economically. Mrs. Grund, our cook, is a good cook indeed; she can prepare good things to cat, and yet “Hooverize” to meet the demands of the day. Jessie helps her, but she likes best to peel potatoes. Clara and Mablc are no slackers when it comes to waiting on the tables. In other words, they arc right there. PAGE FIFTY-SEVEN

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♦ ♦ did not notice the wonderful beauty of nature. Years of feverish chasing after money had made him indifferent to spiritual life, lie could not have enjoyed the beauty of the day even if he had been fortunate enough to notice it. A few steps up the street he came upon a one-armed beggar seated on the curb. When the cripple saw him he withdrew his hand, which had been out- stretched to receive alms, lie would not allow this man to give him anything; this man who had been the cause of all his suffering; this man who, when he had lost his arm while at work at the mill, had refused to make any reimburse- ment and had carried the case to the higher courts, where poor men have not the means to follow. Lockwood saw the motion and passed on. The little children skulked away as he approached. Women passed him with malicious glances. Thoughtless young girls hushed their cheery laughter as he neared them. Men set their teeth and clenched their fists—in their pockets—when he passed their way. Even the respected and influential citizens merely recognized him with a formal nod. Sullen subservience and suppressed hatred met him everywhere. Slowly he mounted the steps to his palatial home. The footman at the door admitted him with a bow. He gave the maid his coat and hat and entered his private study. Here was the sanctuary of the god Wealth. I fere many great plans had been laid and many important contracts had been signed. I Ic dropped into a luxuriously upholstered chair and gave himself over to his thoughts. To- day he had been forced to meet the fact of the diminishing forests squarely. He had had premonitions of its coming for two years. Now it was a reality. The knowledge had brought him to himself as he had never been before during the fifteen years of his enterprise. The man in him was awakening to meet the slave. He had been Wealth's bondsman; he was beginning to realize his servility. He had expected to have become happy in his riches, happy and free. But where was now that happiness; where was that freedom! Lockwood raised his eyes from the floor. The afternoon was growing late. One long streaming ray of sunlight entered the room. It fell upon the rows of richly-bound books, books whose sole purpose was to fill the mahogany cases along the walls. Lockwood’s eyes moved unseeingly along the volumes until they rested upon one that caused him to start. It was an old book which he had brought with him from New England. In his youth it had been his companion, but now it had stood idle for more than fifteen years. Slowly he arose and walked over to the case. With a hand made unsteady by emotion he opened the glass doors and took the book from its shelf. As if by some innate force it fell open to a page which he had often read when he was a boy. Near the bottom of the page was an underlined verse. Instinctively his eyes sought it. His lips moved. “Where there is no vision, there people perish.” He laid the volume down. “Yes”, he said slowly, “and souls also—and souls also.” Bernhard Holland, '18. PAGE SIXTY-ONE