Loyola University Maryland - Evergreen / Green and Gray Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

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THE LOYOLA ANNUAL 9 evening we returned tired but happy. The entertainments! The Shows! The Fourth of July celebration! The circus! I was recounting to my brother last night some of these thoughts which had been caused by the passing of the brass band of the circus which had just entered town, and could not help remarking how times had changed and what a difference there was in our lives, when I noticed my companion close his eyes and appear as if looking into the past. ‘T wish we could enjoy those times again,” he said, “when we were children. I do not mean that I want a dirty, sticky little urchin of three or four, but there was a middle age,” as he dreamily wandered on, “in which I am sure we could enjoy ourselves more than at present. A show is but a show, now that you can go when you please. It used to be a great occasion. When we saved up pennies (and what a time I had making you do it those days ! ) we used to prepare weeks ahead and discuss over and over again just how we were going to enjoy ourselves. A show was worth seeing then when they came so infrequently.” “Do you remernber how we hoarded up our pennies till all the other boys called us misers, we spent so little — and all to see a performance of Uncle Tom’s Cabin in the village opera house? Do you remember how we talked about it between ourselves and could not settle just how much to pay for a ticket, and how we set out early in the morning of the event- ful day, fearing that we should be late, and how, when we finally arrived in town we proudly asked for a ticket and pompously handed in our money, and how we raced into the theater to get the best seat possible and how we impatiently waited for the performance to start? Do you enjoy all the sensations now? Or can the fine clothes which you now wear and are so careful to keep looking well give you half as much

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8 THE LOYOLA ANNUAL ©If? Srass Hattb aain Sayljaiiiii Saga J HAVE an almost “darky-like” affection for the brass band. When I make up my mind to take in a show I look first to the orchestra which is playing and then to the name of the company. I don’t know why I show this partiality — I love the shows as much as anyone — but I suppose it is a taste acquired so long ago that the date is too far off to remember. I can readily recall the first time I attended school and the first time I rode on the “cars,” but I am not aware of the time v hen the blaring notes of the brass band first charmed my ears. I liked the band in my childhood, v hy should I not now? Those pipes and peeps of the fife that sounded for all the world like a small sparrow trying to outcry a screaming loon? The thud of the bass drum and the monotonous umph! umph! of the trombone. But this was to me then the sweetest music — these little squeaks and thundering roars— this conglomera- tion of sound — the old brass band. I like to remember the little, wan postmaster bravely strugg- ling with the big drum on a Vv indy day, when every puff seemed as if it would blow him off his feet. The fat, perspiring German puffing and blowing on that most wonderful instru- ment, the bass horn, emiting sonorous music, for so we must term those sighs and groans his labor produced. I love the inspiring rat-ta-ta-tat of the kettle drums and the fifes, if possible, with its still more inspiring tune. But above all, I love the little brass band for the memories it brings, thoughts of childhood and of my younger days. How vividly do I recall the picnics in the woods, how gayly we marched to the music to the picnic grounds and how in the

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10 THE LOYOLA ANNUAL pride as that old mink tail cap you brought with you, bought with your own hard-earned money and which you flaunted in the faces of your companions — a great luxury we thought it then? Now you are able to purchase any suit that pleases you, but I cannot see that you are half as much pleased with them as you were with that old cap ’ “How you offered excuse after excuse when you arrived home for spending more than you should have done for a certain suit; how you looked at the suit and considered the money and looked again at the suit — do you not recall those times with pleasure? Now, all you have to do is to walk into your tailor’s, order a suit to your liking and think no more of it.” “Then too, do you not remember the circus? How we stood watching with awe the feats depicted on the billboards — how we worked and slaved for the trainer to get a free pass, and how we scrambled and crawled over the bleachers to get in the front row? How we did laugh at the funny clowns and still funnier antics of the trick mule! With what open- mouthed amazement we watched the acrobats perform their ‘stunts’ in midair! What thorough enjoyment it was!” Fred is usually so quiet and taciturn that I am afraid to interrupt him when he once gets started, but I thought that a word of encouragement was necessary. “Yes,” I said, “I heartily wish that we could get back to the old times again, but, as you say, times are changed, so I suppose we will have to get along as best we can and endeavor to enjoy ourselves as much as possible. The shows may not be as pleasing as they once were, but they can at least serve to bring to mind remembrances of the day when they were a treat and a luxury. Yes, I long as much as you do for those pleasing inconven- iences of our childhood, and if it were not for our social posi-