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

Page 22 text:

THE LOYOLA ANNUAL I I V JIrtrp What would you take for that wee little mite You lovingly soothe into slumber tonight? For that rosy-cheeked face you press to your own, And you kiss the child lips of the man to be grown, For that chubby soft hand you as tenderly press As you tuck it away with a good-night caress; What would you take, mother? What would you take? What would you take for that sweet little smile, That breaks like the day dawn, devoid of all guile? For that Hash from those peep-eyes, overflowing with love Wirelessed to you mother, straight from above. For that voice filled with meaning, attuned to a coo, Metred to laughter’s sweet music for you; What would you take, mother? What would you take? Why should I ask you? I know you would not Part with your cherub, whatever the lot. Wealth’s no inducement, the mother and wife For the babe in her arms would sacrifice life; Yes, spurn the world’s treasures, repudiate pelf. For the child that she nurtures is dearer than self. Naught would you take, mother, Naught would you take. Alumnus.

Page 21 text:

THE LOYOLA ANNUAL 11 tion I would go to see this circus and sit on a hard ‘bleacher’ seat just for the sake of old times, but the dictates of society prevents me from doing it.” “But there! Look at that ridiculously small man steering that large drum around the corner, and that pop-eyed, red- faced German puffing on a horn that looks as though it were made for the giants to use!” G. Alfred Peters, H. S. ’13. “MUTAT TERRA VICES.” Apples failing. Snow birds calling. Silent, home and hill ; Summer bowers. Silver showers. And all the Master’s will. George B. Loden, ’16.

Page 23 text:

THE LOYOLA ANNUAL 1.3 Whtn N lj00n the opbamareB J J IGH up in the heavens hung a slice of golden moon. Over near Grant’s Hall a quintet of late-returning students were singing in low, sentimental tones while occasionally the tenor voice rose sharp and clear on the cool night air. It was the twenty-eighth of September. Two days before there had jumped off the rear steps of the 1.55 College Special a stylishly dressed youth v ith blonde hair, blue eyes and sunset cheeks that were the envy of every girl who sav them. He was evidently sixteen years of age and his name was Nelson. With him came his sister v ho resembled him v ith the same fair skin and tender features. He had rented tv o rooms in Chester Hall “just for comfort,” as he afterv ards explained, although for the past two days his sister had occupied one and remained v ith him until he v as settled in cheerful ease, for Jerry Nelson v as the baby of the family, v hich meant that he was hopelessly spoiled. Nelson had posed as a “bad character” to all those v ho had dropped in to see him. Tobacco pouches v ere scattered all over the room in a sort of inviting v ay v hile champagne corks v ere strung across the mantle piece in ostentatious profusion. About this time the sophomores had been at their hazing, contrary to all college rules and unmindful of the entreaties of the faculty. Thompson, a freshman, had been taken out the night before and given a glue bath in a horse-trough v hile Bender v as compelled to send a love letter v ith a delicious- appearing package of soot to Miss Nancy Winkle-spoon v ho v as an elderly spinster and an ardent suffragette. Ford, a classmate of Nelson, had v hispered to him that the sophomores had marked him for the night of the tv enty-eighth. No v on-