Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania - Record Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

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THREE TREASURES . just a bit of seriousness-perhaps out of place but- interesting and needed. Not many summers back, I was wandering through a field of waving daisies, when I stumbled, unknowingly, upon a nest of golden treasures. Not gems, nor coins, nor names of high degree-just specks of Paradise. The first treasure I touched was Health, tanned from the sun, and wind, ready for action, seeking expansion and striving for advancement. To teach her ways and means to everyone, from the newfborn babe, when she should be definitely stamped upon the little one's body, to old age, when she is battling with its infirmaries, is her goal. In every year, in every day is she seeking to further our interests in Better Health. The second treasure I touched was Happiness Not the humorous, temporary type, but one that wore a look of peace and contentment, 'LA look of all sweet accord. The one word synonomous with her was Others, write ten in bold letters upon her royal jacket. In work and play, the one quality that makes for complete contentf ment is altruism. For, if one forgets the meaning of unseliishness, even for one hour, there can be no happif ness. Happiness does not mean satisfaction, having found all material requirements for modern comfort, but rather a constant seeking for 'LOthers. The practical Page One Hundred application of a well known quotation, Do unto others as thou would be done by, is the meaning of true hapf piness. The third, and last of the hidden treasures of our daily life, was uHonor. Not the least important, by any means. Sheathed in armor of metal, stalwart, and ready for the fray, she stood as the first unwritten law of civilization. There was a certain type of NI-Ionor among the first organized tribes in Egypt, and on down through the centuries, we find her, growing and under' going a refining metamorphosis. In ancient Alexandria and Greece, we read of Honor, in the games and gov' ernment. In the empires of the Caesars and Charlef magne, she is advancing and changing to a higher, nobler quality. In those dark centuries, she is evident among the priests and monks, even though, as all better laws, she was forgotten by many. The dawn of a new civilif zation-American Conquest-brought her forth with em' phasis, again. She has been the byword of modern thought. Napoleon, Bismarck, Cromwell and many American statesmen have so established her now, that as a guardian angel, Honor leads us all. These three treasures-immaterial? Yes, but so vital to us all, deserving some mention in our daily lives. just as I found them that summer day, so are they ever within our reach.

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APOLOGIES TO EDGAR ALLEN POE 'Twas on a midnight dreary And my poor old soul was weary , With the hurry and the scurry of the day just gone be- fore. ' As I settled for my napping, Suddenly there came a tapping, Such an awful rapping as I never heard before, Such a horrid, horrid rapping on' my poor old bed room door. Now what's up?,' I ponder, as upon the floor I flounder, For a shoe, here, and a stocking that I have seen an hour before. For the same old shoe and stocking I had hanged upon the floor. Simply this, and nothing more 'LClinic7s called, says someone rapping, He who waked me from my napping, Clinic's called and hurry, Cnly this and from my door depart. Alright, I answer to the rapping That which waked me from my napping Alright, once more I answer and get ready, sick at heart. To the clinic then I shuffle With my cap and hair afruffle, Wondering with hatred, who was rapping on my door, That awful, awful rapping on my poor old bed room door. Only this, and nothing more. With my weary feet afcavin' I ind clinic, all afravin' And a worried surgeon calling Get me this, and nothing more. And his angry voice awakes me As the rapping on my door. I mean this, and nothing more! With my tired body aching Hours later, day is breaking, To my bed room climbing, how I slam and lock the door, Vowing, if there comes a rapping I will still go on a napping Napping just as I had done so many times before. To my good old bed, I lumber, hoping to resume my slumber, Hoping there will be no tapping, as there was of yore, Hoping there will be no rapping, and I mutter, Nevermore. Page Nl71Cly 11l7IL

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WH EN DUTY CALLS Though We do not hesitate when roused at midnight, Or in the wee hours of the morning, It is night duty that calls us. Oh! there must he a reason That our spirit never fails us, h For we could just as easily turn our head And dream of home instead. However, whether it is night duty that calls Or to foreign lands which need us, It is that ultimate stimulation Which demands no hesitation. So to arms, my faithful nightingalel To the call of the needy-without fail. Though the stars shine brightly above us, And the air is enchanted with sweet music, Or the glory of the season's hright sunshine May diminish our strong devotion, 'Twill not suffice to enthrall us For-'Tis Duty that calls us. US Page One Himclrcd Out