College of St Marys of the Springs - Yearbook (Columbus, OH)

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However, not all the novelist's lessons were imparted through the medium of the wicked. If in Oliver Twist he exposes the abuses of the poor house system and the training of boys to crime, in Our Mutual Friend, he deals with prosperity and its power of expanding natural goodness: and dozens of his characters have for mission to teach men the beauty of virtue, One of the most interesting of these last is the lovable little cripple, Tiny Tim. Dickens did his best with this little lad to reveal to us the loveliness of patient suffering, and it is a stern-hearted reader who can swallow the lump in his throat when Tim tells his father on Christmas Day, that he hopes the people saw him in the church because he was a cripple and it might be pleasant for them to remember who made the lame beggars walk and the blind see. ' We cannot read these lines and agree with those who accuse Dickens of being devoid of religious feeling. Indeed, if ever the thoughtless world's attention was called to God's goodness and mercy, it was in his pages. As Dean Stanley said, He taught the world over his grave in Westminster Abbey. great lessons of the value of generosity, of kindness, of un- selfishnessf' His motto was one that could well be adopted by everyone, Don't stand and cry: press forward and help to remove the difficulty. Of the many hundreds of people who have been aroused to a better comprehension of life and its blessed possibilities through the pages of fiction, there is not one who is not glad and proud to celebrate the centenary of this great teacher of our race, or who does not feel that he is personally indebted to Charles Dickens not only for some of the pleasantest hours, but also for some of the best inspirations of his life. LILLIAN FRANCES MAGRUDER, Special. -....t...i.1.-3,1 .ii p Bosews Jldvice SEQ HE. world ain't half so dreadful For you can't suit everybody, As lots of people sayl You can only 80 One Way 3 limit IHS just the way you take it- Some ll talk about you ever: Why life'sjust what you make it- You can never please 'em, never- Smile, and the world's your mirror any day. They'd blame aholy angel llyin' their wayl What if the gossips knock you .lust let iem- tfflk and rattle. At their visits duly paid, And SQ Whlstlln' OU YOUY WHY- When you're tryin' hard to please 'em? Be straight, be square, be steady: Well, if lemons come, just squeeze 'emi Mind YOUT CQUSCICUCC- PTOUIPY and ready. With sugar, you can make a lemon aid! And don't mind too much what other people say. MILDRED Joan, '13, 33

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VIEW FROM VERANDA-WEST VIEW FROM VERANDA- EAST

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ww . warg I wg g wg .wg r :wig 5 wg wg His East lleap ,.,,f ff-f HE night was almost past. The moon, now but a faint disk of light in the west, was fast blending into the rosy tint of the wwf www morning sky, and the still, frosty air was soon filled with sounds of nature awakening from her slumbers. How beautiful she was on this November morning in southern New England where the frost in silver arabesque on tree and shrub sparkled under the first rays of the genial sun. The fields, too, were not with- - . ,, , r , ,, . out their charm. for, peeping from among the shocks, were bright Quia f.-qnyiqigdawf H k. . . . . . . T .,.,,gCM5,-.Q T ye ow. pump ms, giving promise of Thanksgiving and its many T X 'UNT ' T festivities. V This season of good cheer, which should fill the heart with gratitude to the author of all prosperity and blessings, had no significance to one who considered himself an outcast from all society, the most wretched and despised of mortals. Slowly arising, from his bed of leaves at the roadside, Tony Saunders once more faced the stern realities of life. He was a man of perhaps fifty years, and rather unprepossessing in appearance, though well-built and athletic-looking. His clothing, thin land insufficient, was old and ragged, and the Sl0l1Cl1 hat. which he W0rc, was pulled well over his straggling locks of gray hair. In his younger days. TOIIY had been an acrobat, travelling with a small circus, where he had distin- guished himself by his daring leaps. Those feats were now only a memory. He was too old for performing, and since leav- ing the circus, his few savings had gradually diminished, leaving him almost penniless. His heart was steeled against the world, and from the depths of self-abasement into which he had sunk, he cherished for all humanity a hatred that was slowly becoming the ruling passion of his life. Even the keen, bracing air of the morning had no effect on his melancholy spirits, and he pursued his way, little dreaming of what Fate had already in store for him. His route lay along one of those picturesque country roads in the hilly section of south- ern Maine. Not many miles ahead of him just on the outskirts of the village of Westbrook, lived little Marie Anderson with her father. She had assumed the care of the household, and had been the sole companion of her father, since her mother's death, two years before. Marie was now fifteen, slight, fair-haired, and of a sweet and sunny disposition, which won for her the love of all who knew her. She was an affectionate child, and her early responsibilities had mingled with her lovely nature, a touch of sadness, and a thoughtfulness for others, rarely seen in a girl of her years. ' The Andersons were not wealthy, neither were they indolent, and the well-cultivated little farm now brought them a comfortable income. With her own hands. Marie had planted the garden, supplying their wants during the summer months, and had trained the vines which grew in such wild profusion, that the cottage was almost hidden from view. She was a wise little counsellor, with whom her father consulted on nearly every matter of importance, and generally, Daddy was obliged to concede that her advice was best. This morning she had arisen earlier than usual, for the next day would be Thanksgiving, and she could think of little else than the good things she had yet to prepare. What a won- 34 Bs . ss. is 1 UQX I' Fl ar!