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

Text from Pages 1 - 176 of the 1916 volume:

' ffc- Sloyola Qlollpg? logola (Holle e Ulntvual Unlumf S ine 1916 REV. WILLIAM J. ENNIS, S. J. President Loyola College. SJiUiattf 31. lEitnis, S .3(. Pr at nt 01)ia HaUtm of tI|r Attnual As a (Haknt of Eatrrm m b Affrrtinn dia Urapprtfitlly IrMratrb by g tubrnta of iCuyola QInlIrgr (UnntpntH CLASS OF 1916 Joseph Jerome Quinn, ’16 18 WILL SHE SUCCEED? Ralph J. Sybert, ’16 33 PLEA FOR AN OVER-GOVERNMENT. . William A. Sehlhorst, ’17 35 THE TRIUMPHANT SIREN Joseph J. Quinn, ’16 39 OUR NATION’S NEED Geo. B, Loden, ’16 44 TO ONE IN PARADISE Joseph J. Quinn, ’16 49 CAPTAIN NESS’ ESCAPE Geo. B. Sybert, ’19 50 MILITARY PREPAREDNESS W. D. Hodges, ’17 53 SPRING J. J. Q., ’16 56 DRIFTING Ralph J. Sybert ’16 57 FATHER EDWARD D. BOONE, S.J Roger F. O’Leary, ’16 59 FATHER TIMOTHY BROSNAHAN, S.J. A PERSONAL TRIBUTE Charles S. Lerch 61 THE RED MAN ....Joseph J. Quinn, ’16 64 MY ECCENTRICITY Ferdinand H. Schoberg, ’17. . . . 65 JACK Joseph D. Monaghan, H. S., ’16 71 THE FURST - FIELD ANNEXATION BILL J. Neil Corcoran, ’16 73 DELICES Joseph J. Quinn, ’16 77 BENEATH THE JOLLY ROGER. Edward J. A. Nestor, H. S., ’17. 82 THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF THE FIRST LORD BALTIMORE Joseph D. Monaghan, H. S., ’16. 85 AT PIMLICO Joseph J. Quinn, ’16 89 FETTERS OF LIBERTY Leo C. Muth, H. S., ’19 90 TO JOHN J. J. Q., ’16 91 THE CHRONICLE Anthony V. Buchness, ’16 92 EDITORIAL STAFF 97 THE A. B. C. OF MODERN CATHOLIC NOVELS 98 THE POWER OF THE WRITTEN WORD 99 ALUMNI ASSOCIATION 101 ALUMNI NOTES A. J. B., ’14 103 SPEECH OF PRESIDENT FRANK J. KIRBY AT ALUMNI BANQUET MAY 9, 1916 105 LOYOLA COLLEGE IN CIVIL WAR DAYS David Hennessy 108 LOYOLA DEBATING SOCIETY Eugene F. Baldwin, ’16 112 MORGAN DEBATING SOCIETY J. Edmund Sullivan, H. S., ’16.. 117 THE STUDENTS’ LIBRARY 119 SODALITY OF THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION 120 SODALITY OF THE ANNUNCIATION. 121 LEAGUE OF THE SACRED HEART 122 ASSOCIATION OF THE HOLY CHILD- HOOD 123 COLLEGE BASKETBALL Roger F. O’Leary, ’16 125 LOYOLA HIGH SCHOOL FOOTBALL TEAM J. Edmund Sullivan, H. S., ’16. 129 HIGH SCHOOL BASKETBALL TEAM. . J. T. Parr, H. S., ’16 131 HIGH SCHOOL BASEBALL TEAM. . . .James A. Considine, H. S., ’17- • i33 SENIOR CLASS STATISTICS R. F. O’L, ’16, and J. J. Q., ’16. . 134 JUNIOR CLASS NOTES W. D. Hodges, ’17 137 SOPHOMORE CLASS NOTES H. R. P., ’18 141 FRESHMAN CLASS NOTES James 0 . Scrimger, ’19 143 FOURTH YEAR HIGH CLASS NOTES . .Joseph D. Monaghan, H. S., ’16 147 THIRD YEAR HIGH CLASS NOTES . . .R. Lawrence Davis, H. S., ’17- MQ CLASS NOTES— SECOND YEAR “A” Richard L. Ball, H. S., ’18 153 SECOND YEAR “B” B. J. W., H. S., ’18 157 FIRST YEAR “A” Scribe, H. S., ’19 FIRST YEAR “B” Gerard Warwick, H. S., ’19 163 FIRST PREPARATORY 165 SECOND PREPARATORY Wm. J. Digges 171 ADVERTISEMENTS REV. RICHARD A. FLEMING, S. J. Prefect of Studies. MR. FRANCIS W. O’HARA, S. J. Third Year. MR. JOSEPH A. GUTHRIE, A. M. Arithmetic. OIlaflB of 19 IB COLEMNLY rings out the curfew at the twilight of our Col- lege days. A note of sorrow is borne to our ears for it tells us of a past filled with sainted memories, of years throbbing with hopes and ideals and ambitions in which all preparations looked to the coming of this day. Behind us we leave pleasant years that forever shall troop by in the vista of our memories ; before us stretches that part of life for which the first v as made, untracked, uncharted, yet with the benediction of our Alma Mater vouchsafed to us we shall enter our life’s com- missions braver, ennobled, touched to higher ideals of living. Loyola is now to us but a sacred collection of memories. When the curtain shall ring down on the evening of our grad- uation the last link of the silver chain shall be welded, a chain, we may add, whose unlinking time shall never know. By it we have been bound together for eight happy years, an ex- panse of our youthful lives which we shall forever set apart in its delectable perfection, a norm by which, unconsciously, we shall measure all future happiness. Years ago we thought the sadness which flowed as a gentle strain throughout the valedictory and was ever present in the passages of the class historian, was an affectation, a kind of formality that became Senior only as its stateliness or its dig- nity. But when one feels the cord that binds you to Loyola slipping through your fingers, when the days are numbered and you stand on the parapet of your graduation looking out into the sea of your future, the mists of golden memories from the past and the weary perspective of the unexplored future opening out before you, bring tears to the eyes, that come from nowhere but a heart of sorrow. How appalled we are now at the pompous estimate we once made of Senior! Demigods we placed them on the pedestal of dignity. Their importance seemed to breathe even from ' their pictures adorning the resonant corridors. And a word, a glance from an incarnate senior sent a wave of bliss bounding through our boyish being. But ah! those sublime thoughts (i8) of august and imperial personages we found to be simply bom- basts of childish imagination. Erudite professors have drilled us into the realization of the insignificance of man. But let those deluded students treading fast upon our heels live in a dream of joyous expectation until time and experience shall draw aside the roseate veil of fallacy and expose the chiseled reality. Loyola has ever been a place of known traditions. We feel a tendency to follow our predecessors to the heights of honor toward which her precedents wend their way. But the present class of 1916 shall be remembered as the class without pre - cedent. We felt it our duty to our Alma Mater that as long as we were under the shadow of her guiding hand, under her jurisdiction and fostering care, we should give to her the best we had in our course at Loyola, may we not, I ask, say that taken in return would broaden our life’s perspectives and lead us toward our heavenly goal. And so giving to her the best we had in our course at Loyola may we not, I ask, say that we have contributed freely to her already shining firmament. Yet the radius of our ambitions extended beyond the class- room. If we have given to Loyola a stimulus to accomplish athletic records in days to come, then we relax effort in tri- umphant satisfaction. Let us tread once more with reverential steps our joyful high school days. Who of the present class shall ever forget that gentle scholastic, Mr. Charles A. Kleinmeyer, S. J., who from First to Third Year High, 1908 to 1911, ever looked toward our spiritual and scholastic welfare? Each succeeding year with its seasons adds a new note of appreciation to his productive work. When September yearly returned we knew that there awaited us a patient man to labor for us and as we now realize, to love us. His dissertations on the Greek verbs, the Latin baseball games and the line-up contests, time shall never usurp their memories. with all its vicissitudes and unrecognized excuses floods gayly back upon us. Surely unforgotten shall be the days of the assiduous Mr. Kleinmeyer. Fourth Year High wi th Fr. James M. Cotter, S. J., as our teacher, passed over with that spirit of good fellowship which characterized us throughout our course. Affable, kind, ever willing to do more than a teacher’s part Father Cotter has stamped himself into our very lives. With a year’s hard work lightly tinted and grained with his incomparable humor we found ourselves on an evening in June bowing our thanks for our pink-ribboned certificates of high school graduation. Nine- teen out of the First Year High class of sixty graduated that night in 1912. Each succeeding year our professors, our classmates, in fact everything connected with Loyola became increasingly dear. Thirteen out of the nineteen graduates returned the following September to Freshmen to be greeted by Mr. Michael F. Fitz- patrick, S. J. If there be any professor in College to whorri we may ascribe our heartfelt thanks and deep appreciatiorv it is to Mr. Fitzpatrick for our thorough training in English. The Quantokian Club shall not be forgotten. Those poetic mornings when “May was building her house,’’ and the English annotations in the Latin hours shall long be with us. The Lexicographer’s Chair was equally comfortable to both pro- fessor and students. And the anecdotes at the expense of J. Carberry Boyle and Julian F. X. Morris, who at the end of Freshman left for fairer fields, are a constant recurring topic. Sophomore, I think, contained no dreary days. Fr. Cough- lin’s unconquerable humorous thrusts made our classroom a cubicle of joy. Father Coughlin, we must add, impressed us as a scholastic press agent for Shakespeare, Juvenal and the Bible. Each day a word of appreciation was given in favor of one or all until long before May stepped aside for June we found ourselves unconsciously praising Shakespeare, Juvenal and the Bible. None save our favored eleven could dream of what a storehouse of irrepressible wit Father Coughlin really had. If fortune should will that we meet our former professor again, I dare say, the first topic of conversation will be our gleeful days in Sophomore and that once more Fr. Coughlin will exclaim, “Well, after all there are only three books, Shake- speare, Juvenal and the Bible.’’ Fr. Henry W. McLoughlin, as a good-humored professor, fitted our mathematics and chemistry hours with humorous accelerations. The story of the mince pie will go down in history. Yet at some psychological moment, usually at a time (20) of supreme ignorance on our part, Fr. McLoughlin had a recurring habit of concealing his humor under a cloak of heated verbal chastisement. And in the suspense that followed the pause before calling for a recitation we truly thought our heart throbs would shake the needle in the seismograph at: Georgetown. Whosoever of our class shall forget his wither- ing fire of questions at the board, should be automatically impeached from further Loyola banquets. To Mr. Walter G. Summers, S. J., who treated us to the. greater part of our sciences, we owe a debt of gratitude. Many pleasant hours we spent in his classroom listening to his learned lectures and secretly admiring his persevering dili- gence. For six strenuous years we have toiled up the slopes of the classics. And, as we stood on the brink of Junior, with our folded books behind us, a new horizon met our eyes. Broad almost without limit we stood fascinated at its infinite magni- tude. Yet beside us as a guide was industrious Fr. Ooghe. For two brief years he has led us through the widening vales of philosophy, ascending, ever rising, until it seems that the horizon of knowledge has no end. And now as we stand on the pinnacle of our philosophic studies we truly feel our sheer insignificance in this mighty universe. For a moment we glance back over our tortuous trail, then to the unknown vista before us, and something deep down within us gives us confidence to start out over those weary hills alone. But we pause to say a word of appreciation for Fr. Ooghe’s helping hand. Yet our hearts say more than our lips could speak. Lastly, a newcomer to Loyola, Fr. Jones I. J. Corrigan, S. J., met with instant favor. An authority on his subject, ethics, he imparted his knowledge with the same good nature that marked him outside the classroom. We proudly think we have gained a remarkable insight into the field of ethics, an insight which, we opine, will prove a lasting benefit i n our practical life to come and all owing to the insistent efforts of Father Corrigan. The taking of his last vows and the “blue point” banquet will be carved for years on the amber of our memories. September of our senior year had hardly passed when Mar- tin F. X. Murray felt the call of the business world and parted from us. Out of a one time class of sixty we now number only ten. Like a rocket we have clung together for eight transcendent years, rising, ascending, until before the eyes of all on a night in June the rocket shall burst and after the pyrotechnic display of our graduation is over we go floating out into those worlds of ours, fanned by the winds of adversity, strengthened in our course by the inspiring influence of our intellectual mother, our Alma Mater. In those distant days may we often clasp one another’s hands. May the precepts of Loyola strengthen us in all that our hands And to do. May the spirit of honor, truth and morality gained at Loyola be ever with us as we scatter along life’s far-flung battle line. When time is about to blow our bruised and broken reeds of life’s probation out of the world of reckoning, when our wearied senses fall into protracted retrospection, then shall we, looking back over our ventures and undertakings, lift up our eyes to the spirit of our Alma Mater and exclaim: “Thence- cameth all my strength” ! Fare ye well, my fellow classmates. Joseph Jerome Quinn, ’i6. (22) EUGENE F. BALDWIN. Secretary of the col- lege debating society. At the top of the class ladder alphabetically and often otherwise. Came second in class balloting as our most consistent student. Has been handicapped dur- ing college years by al- ways being called first in difficult subjects and facing examiners. We were ever in a state of wonderment what the “F.” in his name stood for, but the last two years has convinced us it indicates Ford. Car- buretors and planetary transmissions fall into his conversation just as naturally as the weather does to an ordinary person. Gentle of manner, stately in bearing, he has made himself popular with the student body. Lends a guid- ing hand to everyone — especially to damsels on slippery floors when the orchestra is playing “Are you from Dixie?” His innocent, intellectual face should not be taken too literally. When sitting behind the steering wheel of a Ford he feels as happy as a king on a golden throne. Fox trots divinely. Pro- nounces “Descartes” with a jitney accent. Has a commenda- ble habit of spending hours in libraries searching for works of Shakespeare— under automobile ads. Is convinced that after all there are only two books — the Bible and the Ford catalogue. No matter whom he’s with he can’t prominade Charles street without stopping at every automobile and look- ing at the engine. The boy with the burning blush. (23) ANTHONY V. BUCHNESS. Made his debut at Loy- ola in 1908. Has shone as a star in the Math- ematic firmament. Win- ner of prizes and pre- miums each year in Mathematics, Chemis- try and Physics. Cap- tain of the basketball team, 1915-16, one of its most successful sea- sons. Launched out into the sea of oratory this year by entering the preliminaries for the public debate. Has an enviable reputation as an all-around athlete. A great factor in put- ting Loyola in that basketball realm which she enjoys today. As a baseball player he has been our favor- ite. Ran a tie race in the class balloting as our best all-around class man. Tony has a widening circle of friends due to his good nature and optimistic disposition. A teacher of mathe- matics at Loyola, also on the teaching staff of the Baltimore public night schools. Spends his spare time looking for wan- dering amoebae. Set him down to a mathematical problem that looks as impossible as a canoe ride up Paca street, and like the kid in the Pear’s soap ad., “he won’t be happy ’till he gets it.” It’s a toss-up whether he looks more natural sitting in a philosophic circle or standing outside a geometric circle. Tony is known and well liked by the faculty and student body. Physically large, his heart has grown in proportion with the rest of his body. A ready debater and an artist. (24) LEO A. CODD. President of the Guil- ford debating Society of 1915-1916. Vice-Presi- dent during 1914-1915. Prefect of Senior So- dality. Winner of the IViaryland Peace Con- test, honorably award- ed second place in tbr following group state’s contest, and awarded second place in the last Public Debate are some of the honored positions and notable victories at- tained by the tall, good- looking, ever - smiling Senior. Besides being oratori- cally, literary, poetically and philosophically bent, we must add he has found time to assume the role of Pro- fessor, and in such capacity does he teach his native tongue to his night classes of English on every Tuesday and Thursday evening within the same walls that during the day inclose him as a student. For diversion he is wont to roam on hill and dale and verdant green, believing with the poet: One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man. Of moral evil and of good Than all the sages can. We believe that in future years the Halls of Congress shall vibrate with the eloquence of his oratory, and the legal pro- fession which he intends to enter be enriched by his ability. (25) J. NEIL CORCORAN. Our efficient class president since Fresh- man. Voted our hand- somest man. Started out with us in 1908 after winning class prizes in prep. The passing years have seen him develop into a brilliant orator and a capable debater. Won the premium in the oratorical contest of 1915. The Jenkins’ medal for the public de- bate of the present year was won by him. Sec- retary of the college so- dality. An all-around athlete and captain of the basketball team in 1914-15. When in a full dress suit the girls clasp their hands and say “Divine!” A frequent visitor to tonsorial parlors (?). Has a whole victrola concealed in his throat and at unknown intervals selections from Caruso appear — and soon disappear. Insists that Father Ooghe’s room is an ideal place to compose philoso- phic dissertations. Calculates incessantly and is still trying to figure out the size spats the Goddess of Liberty would wear. Never tires in his effort to discover a perfect stonewort. His ambition has led him deeply into the sciences. Every time he picks up a tweezers or looks through a hand lens, the old-time scientists, such as Pasteur, etc., shudder in fear of becoming a burden on humanity because of their uselessness. A sincere student, a remarkable speaker, popuar and handsome, no won- der his years at Loyola have been marked by numerous friendships. (26) JAMES P. KELLY. Honor man of last year’s class and of high standing this year. Stu- dent, philosopher, chem- ist, friend and adviser are some of the many things that have distin- guished him during his years at Loyola. When it comes to a question of Philosophy he can solve it as quickly as the over-growth can come off his face an hour be- fore a party. Try to play a joke on him, and he’ll turn it on you quicker than Fr. Ooghe can dictate when he’s in a hurry. Of good, strong intellect, of never failing judgment, of wonderful ability and insight, he looms up as one of the best mentally equipped men of our class. In late years, he has devoted little time to public speaking, though all of us remember well the days when public speak- ing was given much attention by him. In those days he re- cited much and he made the recitation, “Jto Smiley’s Frog,” one of the most pleasing and amusing recitations ever heard within the walls of Loyola. Being exceedingly modest and shy the frequent parodies given on the piece have discouraged him from speaking publicly of late. Known throughout the county he has a large following of friends, both city and suburban. If philosophy shows one’s mental calibre then Jim should be congratulated. (27) GEORGE B. LODEN. Winner of medals in elocution and debating. Termed Demosthenes II. In 1914 the Lee geld medal for oratory was pinned upon him. A great factor in the winning of the public debate from George- town the same year. Has a wide reputation as a political speaker. Chairman of the 1916 public debate. Came second in class ballot- ing as our best orator. Can turn around from writing swinging ora- torical sentences and compose poetic ditties which show that George leans toward the sentimental at times. At one time w ' earer of flammiferous hose but philosophy has toned down the taste- buds on Bud’s taste. Small of stature but large in ability. Has invented a new style spatula which the college will adopt next year. Made a center rush through college and ended up strong in class work. Represented Loyola in 1913 in the Maryland Oratorical Peace Contest. Some day the future may find him a dominant figure in international complications — - as a consul. Handsome, he has appealed to the fair sex ever since he won a Latin baseball game in First High. George’s favorite pastime is to cut up paramecia. He is never happier than when using the blowpipe of his laboratory set. A con- stant reader of the master minds of literature. To grow up with a chap like George is to feel that one has been granted a prerogative. (28) ROGER F. O’LEARY. Athletic editor of the Annual. Manager of the College basketball team during the 1915- 16 season. Subject of innumerable pleasing (?) soubriquets. Win- ner of the Whiteford gold medal in 1915 for the best essay on the subject, “The Panama Canal Historically Con- sidered.” Voted our second best writer. An authority on Chemistry (?). Started in 190S as a charter member of our class. Has ever been a student and an optimist. Originatorand exponent of the now famous “scoop walk.” His experiments in Chemistry labora- tory were characterized by their questionable neatness and freedom from danger (??). He inhales nitroglycerine to re- lieve his headaches caused by over exertion in biology labo- ratory. Carries grains of cyanide of potassium in his vest pocket and chews them as one would cake-crumbs. Owner of two pink cheeks adored by femininity. Reporter on one of Baltimore’s dailies. Frequenter of any place where chocolate sodas are dispensed, holding the long distance record for con- secutive uninterrupted draughts. His latest book, “Analytic Geometry — Cussed and Discussed,” will appear when a mathe- matical metamorphosis takes place in Roger’s brain. Owing to his activity as basketball manager Loyola enjoyed the great- est schedule in her history. The first mortal ever to use a biscuit as a bookmark. His life consists of perpetual motion between Loyola, Huyler’s and Washington. (29) JOSEPH J. QUINN. Editor-in-Chief of the Annual. Class historian. Winner of premiums and prizes in French. Voted the best writer in the class. Honora- bly mentioned in col- lege oratorical contest in 1914. Took part in the 1915 public debate. Voted our second hand- somest man. Occasion- ally we come across the result of his literary tal- ents in short-story mag- azines. “Joey” is a school boy wonder in his line. He can run off at will an ode of spark- ling purity rivalling the fame of “O fons Bandu- siae.” He can cover all subjects from K-2 engines to the Advantages of Higher Education. His laurels as an author have endeared him to the fair young ladies up the country where Joey’s name is a household word. “Green,” as Joe is known among the fellows has shed much lustre on the in- comparable men of the Senior class. Besides being his own charming person he is a quaint conglomeration of Mencken, Keats and Twain. Could rewrite a mission sermon on “Hell” and win a humorous essay prize. His versatile pen, keen wit and pleasing style are qualifications for the profession of journ- alism which he could well aspire to. With these assets and with the heartiest wishes for success from the boys who have known him long, we’ll pledge our faith in Joe over a bumper of Ruxton water and wish him wealth, health and happiness. (30) JOHN A. SHEURICH. Because of the in- compatibility of notes athletes are not good students. This is an acknowledged law of humanity. But there is much talk at present about the German dis- regard of all such laws. Talk or no talk, “Dutch” Scheurich, of decidedly Teutonic ten- dencies is, and has been for eight years, a con- firmed violator of said precept, and has often brought forth from ath- letic and scholarly rivals tacit renditions of the hymn of hate. All of which notwith- standing, “Jawn” is a great chap, a lovely character, a dear boy and popular with the students. Concerning his virtues we might write volumes. As to his faults they are few enough to deserve mention. The first is his extreme willingness to enter any prohibition argument and champion the cause of the antis. Although a total ab- stinence man himself, John waxes strong when defending that dear old Germanic axiom that the good of “Der Stadt” is enhanced when every man can take his Pilsner when he wills. His second fault is like to his first: Too much Windle. Dutch got enough matter from one Windle lecture to fur- nish him with debate material for a week when he would go to the next lecture, ad infinitum. Here’s to you, Jawn! May all your dreams come true. The medical profession will be the better for your entering it and Loyola the prouder of the memories you leave behind. RALPH J. SYBERT. A thorough student throughout his course. Premium winner in the class of Junior. Distin- guished himself in the public debate with Georgetown. Spoke in the Oratorical Contest in 1914. On the win- ning side of the 1916 public debate. An all- around athlete starring in football. Our main- stay on the gridiron. Winner of m.any Eng- lish prizes. Gifted with an aptitude for phil- osophy he naturally has developed into a deep thinker. Should have lived in the days of Louie Bull for the sake of arguing. Steady and deliberate he takes things dispassionately and his efforts in all lines have been invariably crowned with success. Treasurer of every organization we ever had. Unlike other philosophers he has a habit of producing poetics without the least provocation. Hands around theses to passengers on trains as a train boy does candy and goes around later and explains points not un- derstood. His home town friends look up to him with ad- miration and his doings are headlined in county papers. His famous oration at Skagsville was taken down and written be- tween pages of the Bible. His fame as a political speaker precedes him everywhere and he has to drink his morning coffee with one hand and push History away with the other to keep it from immortalizing him. “Sy’s” following, both city and suburban, could compare favorably with the train of Hal- ley’s Comet. Voted our most consistent student. (32) IBtll 6’lir S iirrrrii ? In my dream I saw Earth as a mother, With her sons named the Old and the New, And the Old shedding blood that was guiltless, But his brother still gentle and true. I dreamed that the Old gripped the sword hilt. While the New guides the share of the plow. Crazed the Old with the wine of a demon. The New with Christ’s peace on his brow. Christ, I saw. Who called Love from His chaos And gave her men’s hearts for domain, And showed her the pathway to Heaven, Gold fetters to draw men in train. And so Love, with her eyes wet with teardrops For the heart that had strayed from her pale. To the Worlds, that are brothers by blood-drops. Sent forth — that her sway might prevail Sent her handmaid the glorious Springtime, With her smiles for the Old and the New, Wreathed her brow with the bursting green blossoms. Decked her hair with a limning of dew. And Spring smiled in the eyes of the New World, And she offered her heart to the Old, But he, black of brow like the storm-cloud. Held his sword and still tightened his hold. Love saw this, and dried were her teardrops. Shone her eyes with the light of her King, As she loosened the veil from her beauty. Took the place of her handmaid the Spring. (33) And her beauty shone forth like the morning, Her hair like the mantle of dusk, As she stretched forth her hand and she pleaded, In her cadences sweet yet august — — Of a sudden the vision had passed me. And I woke to the sounds of the plain, But I prayed, ere I went to my labors. That the plea of Christ’s love be not vain. Ralph J. Sybert, ’i6. (34) }31ra fur an (0urx‘-(6nurrnmrnt need not be re- minded that during the last year or so Eu- rope has been writhing in the throes of war; in the throes of a war that is sending the very flower of the nations to wither and decay; in a war that can leave to posterity only a history written in the blood of countless thousands, a change pos- sibly in the map, and a continent of widowed mothers and fatherless children. And we, the un- willing witnesses of that titanic struggle, look aghast and exclaim, “Can nothing be done to bring about international peace and stop forever that infernal carnage”? And that. Ladies and Gentlemen, is why the various peace societies have been organized throughout the country, is the purpose for assembl- ages such as ours. But so much has already been said on the subject and so many of our pet theories have fallen that it would seem presumptuous to attempt to say anything new Rather let us see in what we have failed and if possible mod- estly suggest some remedy. It is not extravagant to say that every living human being abhors war and in every individual heart there is a desire for peace. Why, the very war makers themselves claim to be peace makers. And thus we face the diabolic situation of a world sick at heart for peace as individuals, as nations, de- stroying and being destroyed in the most logical and scientific ways. And the ultimate cause lies in the desire for some kind of acquisition on the one hand and the fear of loss on the other. WILLIAM A. SEHLHORST, ’17. Winner of Maryland Oratorical Peace Contest. (35) Thus we have already a stage setting for the drama. Here we have the great universal individual desire for peace and there we have the well-woven national systems kept alive and sustained by a small minority of men who prosper upon con- tention, Militarists, Powder and Steel Manufacturers, War- mongers, Loan Sharks and Yellow Journalists, represented by ambitious kings and statesmen. Now one national system gains a point over another in the struggle for commercial su- premacy. Instantly feeling runs high and national jealousy grows warmer and warmer until becoming red-hot it explodes, as it were, into war. Against these great forces, without a- leader, without a sense of responsibility and nothing in which to crystallize, the individual’s will for peace cannot endure, but is swept along in the mighty whirlpool made by the sweat and blood of human agony, mingled with children’s tears and mother’s curses. Now arises the question, what have we done to stave off the possibility of war? Apart from moral endeavor to instill and maintain peace in the hearts of the individuals, practically two steps have been taken. The first was the building up of a powerful military and naval machine which grew apace until it seemed as if war would be impossible, or, at least, if it should precipitate it, that it could be of only short duration. It is over a year now since this great war began and still no peace is in sight, so that we all agree that this plan must be abolished. The second and perhaps the more logical step was the estab- lishment of the Hague tribunal, an internation al judicial and executive body. But, strange to say, this tribunal neglects almost entirely the legislative aspect. In other words, it is an international court of arbitration with nothing save that phan- tom of a world-conscience, international law, upon which to arbitrate, a system of expounding decisions when practically nothing has rationally and universally been settled upon as constituting law and consequently an infringement of the law. Downcast at the failure of our plans we wonder if we must go on till the end of time, spilling our blood and raising our children to be the targets of the Hell-begotten guns of war. But no. Ladies and Gentlemen, we cannot yet give up hope. Has not the Hague tribunal accomplished something? During (36) the past century no less than two hundred and fifty cases were successfully arbitrated, each of which might have led to war. If this rudely constructed court has accomplished so much, can it not be improved? Can we not make it equal to the de- mands? Just as human reason unconsciously working in the channels of national prejudice has evolved selfish nationalistic systems and has found them pernicious, so must human reason consciously and in full possession of its power hold the reins that will keep pernicious nationalistic activities in check. Ris- ing above the bounds of nationalism human reason must hold court, as it were, on the walls of the world, and rule the nation by a real legislative over-government. We must expound real international law, internationally agreed upon, not merely a conglomeration of precedents, before we can speak of enforc- ing it, or of arbitrating and judging its infringement. And now, if we will consider it we shall see that at this time as never before is such an actively legislating over-government reasonable, practicable and beneficial. For the evolution of rational government demands such a final step. Rome, in her early days, was composed of wandering tribes. One tribe fought another and whichever conquered assimilated the other. This amalgamation made war on other tribes, growing larger and stronger until finally the empire arose. Barbarous Briton had her government by family, and family contended against family. Out of the family grew the rude feudal chieftains, and chieftain fought against chieftain; from the chieftains arose the various Saxon kingdoms, and kingdom declared war on kingdom until, under Alfred the Great, England became Eng- land and she has since waged wars beyond reckoning. And! such has been the progress not alone in England but of every civilized nation which history will attest. In this evolution we find a co-ordination of previously conflicting interest, a de- crease in the conflicting units, but a marked increase in the, intensity of conflict. Conflict between former sovereign bodies now united in one, becomes civil war, to be put down usually by the mailed fist of the co-ordinated common interests. And it now becomes the duty of civilization to take this their final step toward the co-ordination of all interests. Is not such a step practicable? Have we not the same idea embodied (37) in our United States? Can we not see in the present great war a move unconsciously made toward that end. Today the two great coalitions that are steeped in war are deadlocked and according to present indications are likely to end where they began but mutually exhausted. And just as in the case of families united against families, and chieftains banded to- gether against chieftains, so will the Allies and the Central powers each remain permanently united if for no other purpose than self-defense. This result, together with the coalition of the United States and Latin America, now being so earnestly advocated, will leave only three Great World Powers. And here we have an intermediary, an incomplete step toward the creation of an over-government : a step which a great man, backed by a great power, could make use of in bringing about lasting international peace. Besides bringing about peace, the benefits accruing from an over-government are obvious, but so many that time will allow us to consider only a few. We have already seen that the co-ordination of interests will remove the economic causes of war. With the establishment of an over-government alone can international legislation be enacted; with it alone can proper judicial proceedings be car- ried on; and with such a state alone can international law be executed without the aid of extraordinary naval and military armaments. But the crowning featu re of this great system lies in the fact that nationalism will not be abolished ; that rep- resentatives will be independent of the national rulers, in ex- actly the same way that our representatives are independent of our state governments, and that in case such a thing as war is possible the individuals and not the rulers alone will have their choice. In conclusion, let me say that the great burning idea is there with nothing to prevent its adoption. It is the firm and final step toward international peace. Compared to it our actions in the past have been the actions of a world in its infancy. And with hope in our hearts every one of us may look forward to the day when selfish nationalism with grim war and its toll of death shall have become by the favor of God the history of an archaic era. William A. Sehlhorst, ’17. (38) utljp (Triumpljant i’trtn QUT toward the sky-line of the ocean a Menhaden was float- ing in a dream of blue and glare. Big, bulging rollers crawled on all fours up the beach, turned a somersault and subsided edged with foamy lace. Down near the pier a small group of seashore visitors were watching something, probably a mirage, that hovered over Haven Isle. I sauntered down the heated boardwalk shading my eyes from the sun. On the sand by the lifeboats a green and white parasol dipped with each awakened zephyr. Just opposite the white striped parasol I was greeted by a voice that compared favorably with a seraph’s. “You here, J. J., when did you get down?’’ It was Terese. She, the cherub who in days gone by had often enticed me down the amorous incline into the abyss of love. After the usual session of complimentary conversa- tion we wandered over to the group gazing out toward Haven Isle. Some one was speaking about a canoe with two occu- pants. Terese and I watched for a moment but saw only the noontide blue and glare. Then we turned toward the drug store and chocolate sundaes. Tanned to the redness of a tulip Terese presented a perfect picture of health as she faced me across the little marble table. She should have been canonized for beauty. There was not one sane reason why a sentimentalist could not have likened her golden hair to the trail of the Holy Grail. “Guess, if you can, J. J., whom I saw two evenings ago on the porch of The Columbia. None other than Marjorie Hen- derson.’’ After my gasp of surprise she continued, “And she’s just as determined as ever. You know back in high school she made herself awfully unpopular being that way. And do you remember what she said after the ball at Stapleton’s when it was announced that Delia Thompson was engaged to Harry Lambert. She said that if she had wanted she could have been in Delia Thompson’s slippers that night. Don’t you remem- (39) ber? She always claimed that whatever she wished she surely obtained.” Later the conversation drifted and then lagged. Terese read the weather report from where she sat. “Partly cloudy this afternoon with probable thunder showers.” Terese had the knack of reading the most commonplace subjects and make them interesting. “How about a canoe ride this afternoon, Terese? And then when she frowned at the weather report I added, “Oh, don’t let that worry you, after all, the weather bureau is only a legal- ized Ananias Club.” Before she responded I was distracted by voices of at least two persons entering. They ordered something at the fountain and then sat immediately behind me. “Never heard anything like it,” said one. “Must have been mentally unbalanced. What was it, a love affair?” Then the other told this story. Frank Stephens was the man’s name and they don’t know who the girl was. She was stopping at The Columbia, they say. Stephens met this and another girl at the same hotel. This Stephens, I hear, was a swell chap and both fell deeply in love with him. Two evenings ago Stephens took the other girl to the pier dancing. Yesterday afternoon he suggested a canoe ride with the first girl. Just before starting, the guests at the hotel say, there was a quarrel in which the name of the girl he had taken dancing was frequently mentioned. Down at the lake the men warned the couple of an approaching storm. Stephens thought it better to postpone the ride until another afternoon. But the girl scoffed at the idea and Stephens gave in. The sun had a crimson eye as if a southwester was stirring somewhere back in the Jersey hills. When they left the lake and pointed for the ocean the chief life guard spied them im- mediately and watched them through his glasses. For two miles they breasted the waves when Stephens with a look of anxiety showed the girl a carey-chicken forerunner of a storm. But she threw back her head in somewhat delirious laughter and pointed out toward the deep blue ocean. Away down on the Eastern horizon, like a red speck from Mars, so distant (40) it seemed, a steamer was dreaming along on her course to sunny Spain. Back in the West the sky took on a bruised look and the sun’s paint pot was red. A southwest zephyr, skip- ping lightly from crest to crest, blew a tendril of the girl’s hair across her forehead and she tossed her head in glee. As an oriole’s nest swinging from a sycamore tree in a June breeze, the canoe lifted and tossed in the choppy sea. The girl glanced back toward the beach, rising and falling from sight, to the big blue gable of The Columbia and Stephens watched her mouth grow firm and hard, until it approximated severity, then relax and he wondered at her delirious laughter. But his wonderment was lost in fear as he saw the opal crests tip- ping the Prussian blue. Whitecaps! Back to the land with his paddle he pointed but she stretched her arm out toward the deepening blue. The steamer dream- ing on its course to sunny Spain, so distant now, seemed itself like the shadow of a dream. Soon in demoniacal fury the storm broke upon them. The chief life guard saw the little bark scourged by the gale. He ordered out the boat. A monster of a wave like a fiend from below came bounding up and a strand of the girl’s hair streamed into its foaming cap. But she laughed gleefully until a black ragged cloud racing by reminded her of a sable shroud. Stephens, worried, gave a lingering look back to land but only the uprising, hissing waves met his eye. Somewhere over to the left lay Haven Isle and the nose of the craft turned slowly to that point. Somewhere back a lifeboat was making toward them. Sea gulls sped to land. The screech of the sea fowl, mingled with the riotous laugh of the girl, was an uncanny foreboding to the ear of Stephens. Whipped by a blast the canoe rose, toppled, but a friendly wave rebalanced it. The foliage of Haven Isle posted itself against Stephen’s eyes. The crew of the life boat saw the bark in the distance like a golden sun ray passing over blue woodlands. The ship to Spain was dreaming alone under another horizon. The girl gazed into the iron face of Stephens and she thought she saw despair written on the new made lines while unconsciously a smile crept to her lips. Up from the canyons of the deep, as a writhing serpent, came a heave of brine. On end almost, for a moment, the canoe poised. The girl was thrown, or threw herself, against Stephens. He made an effort as if to cast her back but she clung to his shoulders and drew her face up against his. Her eyes, wet with the sea water, Stephens mistook for tears. She formed her lips into a smile which he mistook for love. With the darkness of the storm a night hawk swept by with its weird scream that rang a note of everlasting despair within his ears. His paddle slipped from his hands. Then a roar and a mighty plunge and the water closed over them. Stephens folded her to his bosom and in some way the thought of a white water lily in a blue pond flashed across his mind. They arose. The oars of the life boat rattled three hundred yards away. Haven Isle green, inviting, should have seemed a goal. But the wet, warm lips of the siren had imbibed all hope from his heart. Shorn of hope, resignation painted the scene in differ- ent hues. It seemed he was strolling in a field of daisies. In his arms was the siren and her cheeks were wet but he knew not why. Then the real scene returned to him. For a moment the sun broke through the clouds. He thought she looked so white against the Prussian blue. He watched the waves rising over the lips of the siren and underneath the waves they appeared so distorted. Then she seemingly tried to raise herself to kiss him and the smile of triumphant satisfaction that shone upon her face, Stephens, poor, deluded mortal, misinterpreted as a token of eternal love. And he bent down to press her lips and he felt himself bending, bending but never reaching until the darkness of the depths sealed his senses forever. “And they don’t know who the girl was,’’ said one who had listened to the story. “Well, the keeper at Haven Isle found the bodies next morn- ing. They were cast upon the sand four hundred yards from where they sank. On the girl’s arm was a bracelet with M. O. H. and a girl’s head chased upon it.” With a gasp of surprise Terese exclaimed, “That’s Marjorie Henderson. I know by her bracelet.” After a moment of thoughtful reverie she whispered, “Remember what she used to say, whatever she wished she surely obtained.” (42) We arose to leave. “Terese, shall we take our canoe trip this afternoon?” I asked. She glanced from the weather report to where Haven Isle lay green on the breast of the ocean. ‘Oh! let’s call it off, J. J. You know I don’t care immensely for canoe trips anyway, do you?” Joseph J. Quinn, ’i6. ( 43 ) (0ur Nalinu’a Nrrb year that has just passed spread over the horizon of our great Nation the dark cloud of conflict. We viewed through ever focus available our seaward-going batteships like card-board silhouettes, pass the blood red orb of the sun, just clearing the horizon. As we gaze on this mighty array of war ships, representative indeed of the greatest Nation in the world, as we stand transfixed at the marvelous work they ac- complished at Vera Cruz, of the deeds of our brave men who gave up their lives for their country, as we gaze on this fleet, I say, we are reminded that our Nation’s need is the mainte- nance and increase of our navy. Better than any learned treatise could have done, the events of the Spanish war taught the American people the value of a great navy. When Dewey crumpled up the Spanish fleet at Manila and Sampson strewed the southern coast of Cuba with the burning wreckage of Cervera’s squadron, the decisive in- fluence of sea power became self-evident. Because of the geographical situation, any war for the main- tenance of our policies must of necessity be a naval war, and we must painfully, but truly, admit that the navy of the United States is utterly inadequate to the magnitude of the task. The struggle for the enforcement of the Monroe Doctrine, the neu- trality of the Panama Canal, Asiatic exclusion, or the integrity of China, will take place upon the high seas, and the situation is such that in the event of war to-day or to-morrow, we would find ourselves in the precarious position of having to defend first class policies with a third class navy. I do not hesitate to say that the work of bringing the American navy up to the standard of strength called for by our National policies is by far the most pressing question now before the American people. And since arbitration is for the present at least but a beauti- ful dream, it behooves this Nation to take careful count of things as they are and to make at once a drastic readjustment between our policies and our sea power. We must modify our (44) policies by retrenchment, or we must at once take all needful steps to bring the navy up to the full measure of its heavy responsibilities. The Nation is confronted with two alternatives, and two only. Either we must give up Guantanamo, Porto Rico, Ha- waii, Guam and the Philippines; leave China to the rapacity of the great Powers ; dismantle our forts at Panama, placing the Canal under joint international control, and withdraw en- tirely within our own frontiers, or we must accept the burdens of a great world power, not with hesitation, but rather with a glad courage, remembering that these burdens are not of our own seeking but have been laid upon us by a destiny against which there is no appeal. No one dare assert that the whole world is at peace, because they know that the whole world is at war. They know that England, Germany and France, and even Japan, are building more battleships than we are. They have seen agreements signed at the Hague totally disregarded. And if such is the condition; if treaties are broken; if other nations are constantly increasing their armies and navies in preparation for war; if this undoubted evidence of suspicion and distrust of each other is prevalent; this is why our Nation’s need is to maintain ever at our command a navy, a protection to every American citizen, a defender of the interests and common welfare of our country. We must realize that battleships are cheaper than battles, and that real patriotism is even more necessary in the time of peace than in the time of war. Both history and common sense combine to teach us that there is no agency so potent in preventing war as a mighty navy. It was the magnitude and preparedness of the German naval and military forces that secured for Germany the forty years of unbroken peace during which that country has so greatly developed its home indus- tries and built up a merchant marine that is the wonder and admiration of the world. It is the realization by Great Britain of the importance of the command of the sea as expressed in her magnificent navy that has made her the dominant naval power and maintained her shores inviolate for centuries. And what of ourselves? Shall we lay to heart the lesson of that stupendous pension roll of $180,000,000, and hasten to bring (45) up our navy to a standard of strength that will insure a lasting peace, or shall we in the time of war be wiped from the sea, our Panama Canal captured, the Philippines seized and our reign of peace and joy ended? We hear from many sides: “Cease this naval expenditure, it is unchristian ; give us peace.” I am for peace, my friends, by any means by which it can be procured with honor to the peo- ple of our country. But, why, I ask you, in the name of human- ity, in the name of the American people, shall we cease when all the world is voting to arm. England is building, Germany is building, and all the other nations are building, and for us to watch these countries in this program for national defense and to sit quiet with little or no attention and think that God will take care of idiots, children and Americans is absolutely and wholly ridiculous. No nation hates war and desires peace greater than we do. We have had wars. We have suffered irreparable losses in our wars; God forbid any more. We look back upon the Civil War and we are absolutely appalled. We see in that one great war more than 600,000 men of the North and more than 400,000 men of the South — a million of the youth and strength and hope of both North and South — slain on the altar of patriotism and no breed left behind. Dare we yet face with open eyes the human loss in that one great war? The loss to the North is beyond measure. Old men weep when they recall the lads, mere striplings, the thous- ands of them, who marched out with them and never came back. To take the seasoned soldier and men past their prime was loss enough, but ours was the slaughter of the innocent in the bloom of their young manhood, and in them were slaught- ered the sons of their heroism, who ought to have been with us today, but who never were born. Our hearts revolt at the horrors of v ar, and we weep with those bereft of home and kinsmen by the ruin wrought by armies. I wish we could forever abolish fearful clouds of human conflict, and the fear that it brings to our hearthstones, and let perpetual peace flow in upon this mighty and pros- perous nation. But looking at this glorious purpose which no man dare maintain will be accomplished tomorrow, next year, or (46) perhaps in the next century, shall we fail to do that which engages the entire world? Shall we, slumbering amid divisions of an expected and longed for peace, fail to provide for our com- mon defense? Shall we assume that this country, which pos- sesses the greatest trade markets in the world, offers no temp- tation for commercial reprisal to a stronger nation? And dare we assume, that if we permit our defenses to decay, and neglect to improve them, that our great national resources and rich territory will not be coveted by some ambitious nation? Ah! My friends, let us not be deceived. Let us look ahead as did our glorious forefathers with eyes keened to the path that is before us. On one hand is glittering peace, afar off in the dim, misty future, and on the other hand, all about us is a fevered war, which makes the millenium peace seem further away than ever. In this conflict there is but one rational policy to pur- sue — a navy strong enough with which not to frighten our adversaries or possible enemies, but to make them feel that an invasion of our coast and an insult to our national honor would be a dangerous and costly proposition. It is for America to lay the solid foundation in equilibrium, by maintaining a strong and ever ready navy, so that she may meet the nations of the world as friends in peace to help each other, and not as enemies in war to destroy each other. It is not for America to dream, or fold her hands in prayer, but to take hold of the actual conditions of the real world where we live. Then and only then can we meet the world with proposi- tions of mutual concession to solve the problems of the world in peace upon which the future of mankind must largely depend. In the name of our civilization, the growth of 6,000 years of human upward struggle, in the name of human intellect, rising above brutal ferocity ; in the name of our flag which has stood for over a hundred years for all that has been highest in earth’s history ; in the name of altar, home and country ; in the name of labor which has toiled through all the countless ages to bear the burden of all wars; in the name of womanhood which has borne in silence and heartache and horror the sorrow and suffering and cruelty and shame of war’s brutality; in the name of all war’s victims, the stricken, outraged and (47) murdered innocents of all ages and nations ; in the name of sisterhood and motherhood, of brotherhood and fatherhood; in the name of humanity, our nation’s need is to maintain the standard and efficiency of our navy. Geo. B. Loden, ’i6. (48) (to ' (@«e din Paraiii0p We dream of her as she sleeps between Some old Cathedral walls, Her soul by angels borne aloft To dim eternal halls. She left us when the rose of May Blew on its parent stem ; We thought that One in judgm.ent knew Our fairest diadem. Her life went out in a distant clime, Like a star at break of dawn; She left the sweetness of her smile, But her own dear self was gone. O, happy days, return once more. Come to us once again; We feel our saddened hearts now yearn To leave the haunts of men. To leave this dreary sea of tears, With all its troubled foam; To go a-searching once again Until we bring her home. Joseph J. Quinn, ’i6. (49) Qlaptain Earapt J T was in the summer time and the heat was almost unbeara- ble in the small prison in which Captain Hess and his company were held. They had been taken prisoners during the great battle of Bull Run, but up to this time there had been no exchange of prisoners, nor had there been any chance of escape, for the Confederate guards were never careless when on duty. The warden, however, was a kind-hearted old man and allowed a number of the prisoners to take a “dip” each day in the river which ran close by the prison. One day while Captain Hess and some of his companions were swimming, the prison cook rolled several kegs of refuse from the kitchen into the river, to be carried away by the stream. One of these floated near the Captain and at once an idea flashed into his brain. Waiting until the guard had turned his back for a second, he dived down and came up with his head under the keg. For a few moments he re- mained very quiet expecting to hear the cries of the guard, or worse still, the report of his gun. But he heard only the shouts of his comrades and the wild pulsations of his heart. Then he began to propel the keg slowly down the rb pr. For hours he paddled on till he thought he must be far from the prison. Cautiously he lifted the keg from his head and made his way up the river bank. He began to congratulate himself on his escape and for a time felt very happy. But half his happiness deserted him when an unfriendly briar brushed against his leg and made him aware of the fact that he had no clothing. “Surely,” thought he, “I can never push on, or regain my friends, until I get some clothes, but where and how shall I get them?” On this question he pondered as he crawled into a clump of bushes, but no answer presented itself to him. Blessed sleep overtook him while he lay considering what to do. When he awoke the stars were shining and the first beams of the moon were gleaming through the trees. He crawled out from the shelter of bushes and made his way through the (50) trees and across ploughed fields till at last he came to a road. This he followed, tired, hungry, sore of foot, and, worst of all, without clothes. As he walked along grumbling about his hard fate, he heard the rumble of approaching wheels. Without a moment’s delay he vaulted a low wall beside the road and crouched down till the team should pass, but to his surprise and consternation it turned into the very place where he was hiding. Two men jumped out of the wagon, and while one tied the horse to a tree, the other took from the wagon a long rope, picks and shovels. Captain Hess thought these men had seen him and were coming after him. He felt about for a club which he decided to use to good advantage. But Bill and Mike, (as they called themselves), began to look about, and after a few minutes found what they were looking for — a newly- made grave. With the picks and shovels they dug down into the earth, and soon, to the Captain’s great astonishment, pulled up a coffin. From this they took a corpse and carried it to the wagon. He was so frightened that his teeth chattered and his knees knocked together, but when Bill and Mike drove away with the corpse propped up between them on the seat, he fol- lowed close behind the wagon. After driving along for a few miles they stopped before an old, time-worn tavern which stood by the roadside. Bill and Mike, leaning the corpse against the side of the wagon, jumped out and disappeared into the tap- room. Quickly climbing into the wagon Captain Hess stripped the clothes from the corpse and donned them. Then lifting the corpse from the wagon he placed it among some bushes beside the road, and took its place in the wagon. In a few minutes Bill and Mike returned, apparently in the best of spirits, and, loosening their horse, took their places and drove off. Soon, however, the Captain, seeing Bill nodding drowsily, fell over against him, and that worthy, thinking Mike was playing a joke on him, said, “Looka here, Mike, keep that dead thing to yourself, and don’t push it agin me.” “Who’s pushing it agin you?” asked Mike. “I hain’t touched the cussed thing yet.” Thinking it an accident, Bill was appeased and, for a few minutes, all went well. Then Captain Hess bumped against Mike. “Darn ye. Bill, I won’t stand fer none of this here foolishness. It ain’t no fun to have (51) that durned thing pushed agin ye; so cut it out.” Bill was indignant. “Listen here, Mike, I didn’t push it agin’ ye, and ye knows it. Ye only want some excuse fer a fuss, and I — ” Just then the Captain’s hand came in contact with Bill’s as he leaned over to straighten up the supposed corpse. Bill jumped up with a yell. “Good Lord, Mike, that thing’s warm yet. Feel its hands.” Thereupon the Captain, hardly able to suppress his laughter any longer, spoke in most sepulchral tones. “Yes, I am still warm, for I am the devil. I have come to take you both with me to hell for stealing dead bodies.” Hardly had he uttered the first word when both Bill and Mike jumped out of the wagon and ran away shrieking with fear. Captain Hess drove off and a few days later, seated by a camp-fire, told his friends the story of his wonderful escape. Geo. B. Sybert, ’19. (52) iHilitary PrryarpJiursH HE subject of preparedness is, perhaps, perfectly familiar to most thinking men of our country, but to many, very many, unfortunately, the word means little or nothing at all — nothing at all, or, perhaps, what is infinitely worse, there are those who see in this movement only a graft scheme backed by munitions manufacturers. These last in their misanthropy are obsessed by the haunting spectre of “pork barrel” politics and, together with “peace” visionaries of the Bryan type, they have up to date succeeded in blocking legislation calculated to remedy, after a fashion, the flagrant defects of our armament. Recently our Southern border was crossed at one of its many unprotected parts by the notorious Villa; the citizens of Co- lum.bus v ere harassed and miany of them murdered before suffi- cient troops could be mustered to rout the bandit, and we have not yet succeeded in bringing him to trial. We have sent into Mexico nearly our whole available force of regulars, and so far in nearly every skirmish they have been outnumbered by their bandit opponents. True, our troops have overcome these and have killed or put them to flight when- ever they have miet, but is it right that the United States troops should forever labor under the disadvantage of numbers? The aeroplanes that were sent down with the column for scout duty, besides there being less than a dozen of them in the whole expedition, are utterly useless and obsolete ; the com- missary department was and is insufficient for the needs of the army, and the instruments for communication with head- quarters were in very poor working order. This is unpreparedness. And will we take the warning? Or will we continue to dream of security and in our fool’s paradise neglect entirely the patent needs of our present military establishment, and, learn- ing not the lesson which its extremities in Mexico should have taught us, forget to prepare for the unsettled future which is before us? Shall we persist in the distrustful and penurious (53) attitude which we have taken in the matter of appropriations for defense; and will we hearken still to the siren songs of Messrs. Bryan and Ford and their cohorts until the wave of some great national disaster overtakes us in our improvidence? There are those who would tell us that we have nothing to fear — that our position geographically renders us isolated from the rest of the world and that our well-known policy of strict neutrality in all matters not directly concerning our na- tional welfare will make us friends instead of enemies. These were consoling thoughts, indeed, if they were entirely true; but, alas, the events of the last twelve months have shown them to be vain hopes and that we must needs look well to ourselves lest the storm break on us unawares and we awake to find our fertile fields laid waste and trodden by the heavy feet of hostile armies and our flourishing cities mere heaps of ashes and smoking debris. We are told that in the event of danger volunteer armies would spring up to resist invasion, that a million men would spring to arms between sunrise and sunset. Doubtless this would be the case despite the “peace at any price” movement, but to what arms would they spring? To pitchforks and shot- guns? We have not enough arms and munitions of war in our arsenals to adequately equip troops which we now have — how then would we arm volunteers? And even were this diffi- culty surmounted in some miraculous way, surely a horde of undisciplined men, however well armed and however brave, would be of little avail against the trained troops who would be opposed to them. The vast majority of the volunteers would be totally ignorant of the manner of using their weapons and certainly very few of the remainder would be at all familiar with machine guns and heavy ordnance; hence markman- ship would be, of course, out of the question for, contrary to the popular supposition, Americans do not shoot straight by instinct. We would have, in short, a mob of armed individuals more dangerous to themselves than to their foes, totally with- out adequate leadership, and dependent for their food supplies (absolutely necessary by-the-bye) on — perhaps, on manna from Heaven ; certainly no dependence could be placed on the com- ( 54 ) missary department of the United States army as it is at pres- ent. Such, therefore, is the condition in which we find ourselves. Truly a deplorable state of affairs and, unless we firmly resolve to shake off our lethargy, to remove from our midst the per- nicious influence of those dreamers who would “cry peace, peace when there is no peace,” we are likely to find our posi- tion as a sovereign nation in very grave danger indeed; apropos of which the warning of Horace to his country would seem peculiarly apt : “O navis, referent in mare te novi Fluctus! O quid agis? Fortiter occupa Portum! Nonne vides ut Nudum remigio latus . . . .” etc. W. D. Hodges, ’17. (55) priiui PRING is that tender season of the year sandwiched be- tween coal bills and mosquitoes, snow drifts and soft butter. Spring is due to turn the corner of Zodiacal Avenue on March the twenty-first and rush up the land in a highly notice- able and indiscreet manner. Before April, however, spring is timid and retiring and a man who goes out into the open to in- hale it in greater quantities without an overcoat ana an ear muf- fler is liable to come home with a lump of winter in his throat so big that his voice has to separate, go round both sides of the obstacle and connect up later into a drizzling whisper. The peach trees pip out into blossom when ¥fiss Spring pirouettes up the ballroom of the land and little birds cast coy and dainty glances at one another with a view to matrimony. Gnats perform the tango on the glassy surfaces of lakes while silvery-scaled fish describe graceful parabolas through the air and engulf them two at a time. Dr. Mosquito comes from the nowhere into the here and goes on his nightly route with an air of sullen pertinacity. The earth becomes soft and sugary and morning-glory vines hustle around frantically until they find some object to embrace. Young men grow bold and wear green hose with tan slippers, a combination that even a burglar wouldn’t tamper with. About this time of the year, after spring has caressed every orchard tree until it colored up exuberantly, the average person is inoculated with a certain dreamy, drowsy feeling that buys up all his available energy and portions it off into lots of languidness. It attacks a person nowhere in particular but everywhere in general. It is called spring fever. It creeps into a person unawares and drives out perspiration in a lively man- ner which makes a supply of handkerchiefs as necessary to a fat man as a collection pan at a Billy Sunday meeting. Nothing can be more amusing than to see a corpulent individual on a hot day melting away into a dozen handkerchiefs. A spring fever vie- (56) tim is as useless to mankind as a piece of No. 6o cotton is to hold back the Aquitania when it’s v arping out for Europe. Spring turns the world inside out and sews new buttons on it. The sky becomes emotional in springtime and weeps so undecidedly that unless a man tucks a folding umbrella into his suitcase he is looked upon as a character of great negli- gence. Girls grow gleeful and wear those latest hats that ex- plode into a gorgeous volley of varicolored ribbons. Angle- worm s crawl forth from their winter apartments, being coaxed out by April shovrers, and wiggle across roads and under wagon wheels in a way that suggest boldness. Now, as the sun swings with the vernal equinox and the lawn mower hums its happy tune, the brain of spring poets swell while editors read into the night their delirious inspira- tions. Some poet somewhere sometimes said that “in the spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.” That, indeed, must be the long-sought-for explanation of why, just after the afternoon has paled into evening or the twilight met the night, you shall see in the park, benches de- signed for four, occupied by only two and apparently so limited in space that they cannot avoid a little crowding. J. J. Q., ’I6. Srifting When moon beams glint upon the sands. And elfin shapes in shadows play. My little birchen bark I board And softly pipe a crooning lay. As drifting down the silv’ry stream I mark some whirling eddy’s scope. May life’s deceptive whirl, I pray. Thus leave unharmed my bark of hope. Ralph J. Sybert, ’i6. (57) REV. EDWARD D. BOONE, S. J. (S8) Jatiffr !Eiiuiar i. Soottf, . S. MONO the many events of a crowded year at Loyola was one that cast a general gloom on faculty and students alike — the death of the Reverend Edv ard D. Boone, SJ. The feeling of sorrow was in a measure lightened by the confidence that after his long years of faithful service, he had, in death, but reached a long-sought goal. Yet to those whom he left there still remained a feeling of distinct loss — a void that would not soon be filled. The kindly influence of Father Boone permeated the halls of Loyola even when age and sick- ness denied us his physical presence. In his death the Society of Jesus loses one of its most faith- ful subjects, a servitor who for more than sixty years in the successive roles of novice, scholastic, teacher, college presi- dent and parish priest, labored zealously in accordance with the spirit of the Jesuit motto, “Ad Majorem Dei Gloriarn.” During his long career of service in the ranks of the Church he was intimately associated with Loyola. It was in 1868 that Father Boone first came to Baltimore where he was to spend so many fruitful years. The college was then located in its rather narrow quarters on Madison street. The young Jesuit entered zealously on his duties and by his energy and ability contributed largely to secure a foundation on what Loyola of the future was to rest. Leaving Loyola after a term as Professor of Rhetoric he did not return until i8g6 when he remained until his death, rounding out a quarter of a century of service last spring. In 26 years he fulfilled the duties of teacher, parish priest and chaplain at the Baltimore Penitentiary. An interesting feature of Father Boone’s final work in Balti- more was his selection as confessor by many of the clergy of the diocese. His pious counsel, his experience, his mildness and understanding of human nature well qualified him for so exalted a task. (59) Previous to his enfeeblement by age Father Boone was a familiar figure on Calvert Street, which he traversed daily. White of hair, mild and gentle of manner, with the stately bearing of a Maryland gentlemen of the old school sitting well on his slender form now bent by age. Father Boone was one of the most distinguished priests of the city. Flis modesty was proverbial with those who knew him. At the time of his Six- tieth Anniversary as a Jesuit in 1912, it was intended to ob- serve the event in a suitable manner, but Father Boone asked that there be no celebration. Nevertheless, many of his friends joined to do him honor. An insight into the simplicity of the character of the man may be gained by a frequently recurring example given in the Loyola Annual. Year after year there appeared in the publication a chiseled piece of Latin verse. The verse was never signed. Father Boone was finally discov- ered to be the author, thus expressing a lifelong devotion to the classics. While never intimately connected with them Father Boone w’as much beloved by the students of Loyola, and his holy life, his universal kindness and his wide and deep knowledge and sympathetic interest could not but be an inspiration to the young men of the College. His room in which he passed twen- ty-five years is almost a shrine to priests and students alike. Had Father Boone lived he would next July have celebrated his golden jubilee at the altar — an event looked forward to with great pleasure by his fellow-priests and friends. But God willed otherwise, and we who knew him during life may with confidence believe that the All High chose to affix the golden seal of jubilee Himself, and to celebrate in heavenly communion the anniversary of him who a half century before had dedicated himself to His earthly service. May he not forget at the throne of Heaven the supplication of those who struggle toward the goal. May we share in the infinite value of his daily oblation— stored up in the treasures of Omnipotence. Roger F. O’Leary, ’16. (60) 3Fatl]pr iSroaualjatt, B. 31., A J Fraoual (IrihulF HE public career of Father Timothy Brosnahan is very well known. The world of scholars is familiar with his famous controversy over the Jesuit system of education, in which he put to rout the president of one of our foremost uni- versities by his wit, learning, and armory of facts. The fruits of his brain may yet be given to the public in the shape of a collection of essays. But, as a member of one of the classes, so fortunate as to have Father Brosnahan teach them Ethics, I cannot but feel that the most vital impression he made was upon the hearts and minds of his pupils. I do not know a teacher, either lay or ecclesiastic, who ever had in such per- fection the universal and unqualified love and respect of those whom he taught. Every member of his successive classes, whom I have ever heard speak of him, expressed in his own peculiar way his admiration for the scholar, his affec- tion for the man. Two things to my mind distinguished Father Brosnahan: a wonderful broadness of mind, which in Christian parlance means Charity, and remarkable common sense, or the Chris- tian virtue of Wisdom. Having dedicated his life to his Maker, he performed this service with such a remarkable sense of balance and such tenderness of human frailties, as to present the spectacle of the natural life completely rounded off and in harmony with the Supernatural — a constant reproach to the scoffing modern world. Father Brosnahan was the truest friend one could have; a friend at the time when most needed, and a friend who would divine this very need without those external indications, which must first be evident even to the best of ordinary friends. To this the writer can directly testify. With the surest and deepest mind of which I have yet had personal experience, he was withal so modest as to be con- sidered unusually retiring, but he was an unfaltering cham- (6i) REV. TIMOTHY BROSNAHAN, S. J. (62) pion of the truth. Alas ! how badly do we need just such a man in this lop-sided age of entrenched falsehoods, deified manias and perverted thought and action. He was no fanatic ; he first patiently and laboriously verified the conclusions to which his brilliant mind had already leaped, and when he was certain of the truth, he stood by it to the last ditch. He would have died for it; in fact, I think he did die for it; he died from the strain of compiling a code of Christian morals, which would have covered the whole field of human action. The writer considers himself more than fortunate to have known him and to have been indebted to his friendship. He was a true man and noble Priest, and his memory shall be kept green in the hearts of his friends. Charles S. Lerch. (63) Kcii fHan I OWN through the vale of years, through the canyon of des- pair, toward the opal gates of eternity my footsteps lead me onward. From a million voices turned to dust, from a million hearts earth-grown and pulseless, from a people whom no age shall e’er forget, comes the bodeful cry, “Injustice!” A cry that the mountain crags themselves re-echo, unheard by the ears of men, a cry that the mighty forests croon forever over the moss-grown graves that mark the everlasting hills. And with my outstretched hands I give to posterity not cities gilded and golden but the lakes and forests and prairies; not streets with their vista of lights and of laughter but val- leys fruitful and verdant ; not the shrieks of whistles and sirens but the scream of the soaring eagle; not the deafening roar of all turmoil but the whispering of the pine groves; not the fumes and odors of factories but the fragrance of flowers in their seasons ; not the scenery of theatre and playhouse but the sun as it sinks on the ocean; not monuments of marbles and granite but the tow ering peaks of the mountains ; not throb- bing palatial steamers but silent canoes made of birchbark; not tomes of learning and wisdom but I will you the book of nature. And as I pause on the brink of a few brief years, with the sunset of a dying race casting my shadow into the unknown halls of eternity, I turn, and as I gaze upon a world reddened with the gore of men, upon nations sickened with vice and discord, I feel my path made easy, my journey sweetened and eternity-— a goal, Joseph J, Quinn, ’i6. ( 6 |) iMy Srcptitririly £ all have our natural proclivities and not infrequently an ambition consequent upon the proclivity. How many are only too keen in their desire to tread in the footsteps of the immortalized Honus Wagner, Tyrus Cobb or Benny Kaujff, or perhaps assume proprietorship of a street car or accept a simi- lar position of financial and worldly power. Happily, however, not all of us are imbued with such lofty ideals and aspirations ; and we should be grateful that some restrict themselves to more humble pursuits and are contented with such lowly occu- pations as science and philosophy. It is to this latter class, perhaps unfortunately for myself, that I am confined by my own mental eccentricities. I will not venture to say that I am a philosopher but that I am some- what scientific I can assert without the least approach to boast- ing. In fact, they tell me that in my childhood days I had the earmarks of a scientist — no, I do not mean that I was gifted with the ability to wag my auditorial appendages — because I always attacked things in such a manner as to get all the pos- sible knowledge I could at my immature age. Nor did this characteristic leave me as years sped by, for eventually I be- came obsessed with the idea, and, consequently, the ambition to become a natural scientist, a physico-chemist. What vain and idle dreams, never to be realized ! Compelled as I was to abandon studies and seek the filthy (?) lucre at labor, I still devoted every spare moment to reading and naturally my read- ing was scientific. Archaeology, paleontology, biology and all the other -ologies rapidly passed before me. From the -ologies I went to the -isms, finding special interest in every sort of mysticism ; and it was with a thud that I landed permanently in what appeared to me the most absorbing of all, “hypnotism,” or its synonym, “mesmerism.” May this account suffice as an excuse for what follows. When I first entered Dumbarski’s Hypnotic School— which, by the way, was located on the second floor of a decrepit Bond street tenement— I was favored with a generous handshake by the Professor, and then relieved by his other hand of a beloved (65) “five-spot,” the necessary prerequisite for a prospective course. The next visit found me receiving a few introductory lessons in the principles and fundamental points of the science from the same bewhiskered Professor. On the third visit, however, came the most interesting part of the course when the art of hypnotism was demonstrated. I was led into a rear room much larger than the first class room, and, on that occasion, filled with all sorts of human freaks; in fact, the sights that met my eye were more amusing than anything a dime museum could have offered. Huge pumpkin-headed individuals sat willing subjects for pinheaded humans who employed every sort of facial contortion and manual gesture imaginable to send the said pumpkins into the land of dreams. Here a strap- ping young fellow pressed with his entire hand the skull of a curly-haired, fair-cheeked fop, and would no doubt have crushed it in his attempt to overpower his will if ivory had not such a great resisting power. There another nondescript irregularity was commanding his subject to partake of a piece of invisible mince pie lying on the table, and the subject pro- ceeded to do so with such a vim that I have since wondered whether spiritual pie has a better savor than the mere material variety. Such were the circumstances attending my initiation into practical hypnotism, or the hynotic art; and it was not long before I was acquainted with the whole “menagerie.” Determined to try my luck I selected the most “willard” brute in the house and like a soap-box or socialistic orator on the street began to infuse my desire and will into his dormant thoughts. With what result? Well, “the bigger they are the harder they fall,” as this example clearly illustrates; for in a few minutes he was dancing a snappy Irish jig and vigorously emulating the historic whirling dervishes, to the pleasure and amusement of all present. I had succeeded in the first attempt and with a Sandow chest I stalked out of the school and strode along the streets like a real scientist and artist. That news travels almost as rapidly as lightning might well be said of such a gossip-laden town as ours of Ipswich. Mrs. MicGuntry and Sadie Morrison, the champion gossipers of the town, had carried the story of my enterprise to every corner grocery, and from the groceries it radiated to every inhabitant ( 66 ) of the village. And such talk! Really, I believe if a murder v. ' ere committed within ten miles of the town all therein would die from sheer excitement on receiving the account of it. Throughout the entire day it was “Fisher,” “Fisher,” “Fisher, ” (which happened to be my family gift) ; Fisher, the hippermis, Fisher, has become a hypnotis, James Fisher is a hyppernit, and finally some homo sapiens would startle the rest by saying that I was a hypnotist. People are not usually contented with mere talk, however, and what they desire is something to substantiate the verbal expenditure. With this end in view Ma Perkins had arranged a great celebration at her boarding house with myself as the honored guest. Obviously it was an opportunity to display my wares, and wisdom allowed no refusal to attend. Therefore, when the occasion arrived, I presented myself spick and span in a new outfit at the Perkins domicile. As I had suspected, the intention was to have me perform and that before the exclusive set of our town, hence, before a bevy of blushing damsels as well. But first there were other things to accom- plish, not least of which was the disappearance of sandwiches, of ham, cheese and salads, of ice cream, cookies, and last, but not least, the spirited liquids from cocktail to booze. This disappearance was effected with far more rapidity than the famous Thurston could pretend, and it was not long ere I found myself standing before an expectant audience prepared to per- form my stunts. For my first experiment I chose a friend, let’s call him Bill, to act as a victim. Bill came forward and sat before me laugh- ing as if it were a good joke; but behind the laugh I discerned an underlying fear. I stared at him sternly, and gesticulated as if I were throwing brick-bats at him, and poor old Bill now smiled, now grew fearful and attentive, and then was as still as a mouse— Bill was caught. “Now, Bill,” I -began, “you remember the day when you de- feated Jess Willard with a solar plexus? Well, here’s Willard now and he says he can beat you— he’s approaching— he’s hit- ting you- — show him how you can fight.” Bill assumed a characteristic fighting pose and began to beat the air with the fury of Aeolus. Just as he had planted a (67) right hook on the imaginary Willard’s jaw I shouted and he stood motionless, his hand still extended. I invited anyone to bend his hand but not one present could do so. I raised and moved him about, but he retained the same rigid posture and the same vacant stare. Fifty necks craned in curiosity, fifty faces betrayed astonishment, — and at what? At one of the simplest feats of hypnotism, effecting in a subject what is called catalepsy, an abnormal nervous condition. A cataleptic can support as much as eight hundred pounds without injury to himself. Thinking this sufficient for Bill I slapped him sharply on the face. In an instant he opened his eyes and sprang at me, but soon calmed ; he went to his chair sorrowfully rubbing his eyes. This with a few more experiments satisfied the audience. They had been uniquely entertained and did not care to wit- ness any more stunts that evening. By this time their nerves were keyed up to the highest pitch and they soon dispersed; some of the men, however, before departing, complimented me on my ability. As for myself I went home pleased with my success, for now I realized that I was firmly established as a real hypnotist. It is a very easy task to re-influence one who has been a sub- ject at some previous time. Such an individual was my nearest friend, and through him I regained the $5.00 I had contributed to Dumbarski at my introduction into his class. It happened that Dumbarski had an engagement for one week at the M Theatre, of New York, where he performed his somnambulistic tricks; and it was his custom to offer $5.00 to anyone whom he could not hypnotize if they consented to the attempt. At one of his performances my friend Jim and myself were interested spectators and when he called for volunteers I asked Jim whether he wouldn’t present himself for the experiment and perhaps win the $5.00. Jim’s only answer was : “If you can hypnotize me, I do not see why he can’t,” which was certainly a very reasonable answer. But I had conceived a plot and hence I continued: “Jim, I’ll wager five dollars that he cannot hypnotize you ; so then if he doesn’t you’ll receive the compensation from him, and if he does you’ll ( 68 ) abstract it from me. You cannot lose whatever the result.” That was enough for Jim, and up he strode to take a posi- tion on the stage. While Dumbarski proceeded through his rigmarole Jim happened to glance in my direction, which was all I could have desired. In that instant, with the click of my finger, he had passed into my power. What was the outcome? Dumbarski could not control what was already under my con- trol. Hence there was nothing for Jim to do but collect the $5,00 at the box office and hand it over to me. So multitudinous are the experiences of a hypnotist that a book or two would be required to record them. On one occa- sion I had a victim standing on a pier, with hook and line in hand, and fishing for sharks; and while in this act he suddenly lost his balance and fell headforemost into the water. Luckily, however, he was not drowned for the pier happened to be a cane-seat chair and the “surging billows” nothing else than a hardwood floor. At another time I took a young chap into my power, accompanied him on a walk through B— — Market at its busiest time, since it was Saturday night, then stopped in Heinrich C — —’s Cafe and partook of a few thirst-quenchers, and finally, returning to the starting place, I awakened him; and to this day he does not know that he w as even outside of the house. Another incident, however, was not as favorable to m.e as might have been desired. While at a public ball with some of my friends, I retired to a corner of the balcony and began to hypnotize. Five minutes had not passed ere the gallery was crowded. Everyone seemed interested in my experiment, all were amused, so they testified in looks and words. But it did not appear so amusing to the committeemen directing the dance, for they looked into the bar-room now devoid of customers, beheld ten full kegs of the stuff they call Pilsner, then gazed into the gallery and beheld the “human reservoirs” that should imbibe that Pilsner, and finally putting two and two together they decided that they wouldn’t “make out” if I didn’t get out. And so they ordered me to be expelled unless I ceased inter- fering with the sale of what Su nday calls the tool of hell. Ac- cordingly, I thought it more advisable to desist and let the tool do its work. (69) While the latter experience was not so harsh in its effect on me, something occurred, however, which proved far more detri- mental to my reputation than anything yet mentioned. I had become somewhat popular but with my rise to popularity there was a concomitant increase in prejudice tdward me that I in no manner cherished. I could not help observing that when I walked the streets the old gossipers of the town together with some of the younger set they had influenced, would avoid me, and if I was on the same sidewalk with them they would hur- riedly pass to the opposite sidewalk and point the finger of scorn at me. They said that I was possessed by the devil, but they shunned me as if I were the old top Lucifer himself. If there is anything a man detests it is to have himself falsely interpreted and in this case the false impression certain persons had of me caused me no little concern. But after all what mat- ters it if some in rash judgment say, ‘Ts he one of that kind?” What matters it if a few babbling klatsch-weiber should ig- norantly strive to ruin our character? Any reasonable and right-thinking man will listen to no such insinuations or accusa- tions, much less believe them, unless they be supported with proofs, and I invite any one to furnish proofs in my case. What I have related refers more to practical and to light hypnotism. Think not that other more interesting and more beneficial experiments cannot be performed. Had I but the space and tir ’’’ would present you with a scientific treatise on hj pnotism t cther with the startling results obtained from its practice. Many things indeed lie within the power of the hypno- tist, but also many things are attributed to him which neither he nor any one else can perform. For instance, it has been the intention of some that a person can be raised in space by the magnetic influence of the hands. Theoretically this is possible, but practically it is impossible. At several times have I at- tempted it with no success whatever, and from my own and others’ experiences, I cannot but conclude to the practical im- possibility of such a feat. Should you be inclined to doubt my contention, as hypnotic influence is not needed for the experi- ment, I invite you to perform it. Meanwhile, farewell, and perhaps more anon about hypnotism. Ferdinand H. Schoberg, ’17. (70) J ACK was his name — truly not a very pretentious name for such a very pretentious creature. The fact that he was only a dog did not lessen his estimate of himself ; nor did the fact that he was quite a diminutive dog minimize his self- esteem, for he seemed to share the conceit of the small man whose cheerful, optimistic estimate of his personal abilities acts as a consoling offset for his lack of stature. He was just an ordinary black-and-tan terrier, whose chief business in life was the extermination of rodents ; but, as in the case of ambitious and resourceful men, he busied himself overmuch with the affairs of others, just as the fussy modern reformer tries to regulate the actions and habits of other people. When he was lucky enough to get out le back lot, he took great joy in rounding up the chickens which were attend- ing strictly to their own business, trying to pick up a living. However, one day some of them (who had probably tired of his meddling) turned on him and showed fight; they got him on his back, and all pecked him to their entire satisfaction. He arose a sadder, and surely a wiser, dog. Truly, he was hen- pecked. The lesson reformed him for sometime, but eventually he lapsed into his former bad habits, and resumed his harassing tricks, keeping, however, at a discreet and respectful distance from all hens. Though you might search in vain in athletic and sporting annals to verify the statement. Jack had the record for the running-high-jump. This prowess he gained by making sud- (71) den attacks on cats walking over his very high fence. Though he made some astonishing jumps, he never could reach the cats, perhaps he knew this well enough from repeated efforts and failures; and perhaps he mixed discretion with his valor, and wasn’t so very anxious to reach them anyway — but he had the great joy of giving the hated enemy a terrific scare by an unexpected assault. He was a great believer in the policy of “frightfulness,” and his motto was, “Let loose the dogs of war.” Jack’s young master used to be visited on occasional Sundays by a squirrel, the pet of one of his neighbors. Jack didn’t like attentions deflected from himself ; so one Sunday he entrenched himself in the cellar and bided his time. Soon the squirrel came along over the fence top. When he had descended and walked well into the yard and near the house, out dashed the wily Jack. They say a worm will turn ; anyway, the squirrel turned. Realizing it could not get away, it fiercely attacked Jack, much to the latter’s surprise and consternation. A scratched and sore nose taught him that small creatures have courage and will fight, just as great blustering nations know to-day that small nations have a sense of honor, and the courage to defend it. But cats were the joy of Jack’s life. They were the ones he most delighted in tormenting. Jack had the common human trait of being happiest when he was bossing and worrying something else. After finishing his meals he would sometimes hide and wait until some cat would come down to eat the rem- nants which he had discarded. A sudden charge at the un- suspecting enemy, a moment of suspense, and then the en- sanguined fray. Verily, he was a battle-scarred veteran. One good trait that Jack had was that though he might get “licked” in a battle, he wouldn’t stay “licked” — a noble trait in any warrior or nation. Joseph D. Monaghan, H. S. ’i6. (72) Jiurat-Jffidii Anttpxalton Mill On beholding the honesty and sincerity vivified on the countenances of the hearers before me this evening, every trace of fear that was wont to creep into my thoughts, that any prejudices which you might entertain concerning the seemingly advantageous Field Annexation bill, would be a hindrance to convincing you of our view, has been entirely dispelled, and I stand before you confident that such an assemblage will speed- ily awaken to the fact that ours is the correct impression of the proposed question — namely, that the Furst-Field bill should not be adopted by the Legislature of Maryland. But let us to the facts. Rhetoricians tell us that in argu- mentation, it were better to prove only what is necessary, and no more. The Furst-Field bill is replete with defects, and to show that it should not be made law would only require the citation of a few of these defects. We might, as the question stands, even agree that annexation would be a good thing, since to prove that the bill should not be adopted, does not entail on us the obligation to show that the annexation part of it is wrong; but as for me. Ladies and Gentlemen, since it reeks so with injustice, since it would doubtless close the doors of many factories, since it would drive people from their homes, and create distrust among neighbors — I deem it my bounden duty, to show you the undesirability as a state law, of annexation as proposed in the Furst-Field bill, and since desirability is the only reason for a new law, it should not be adopted. However, Ladies and Gentlemen, what weight will any argu- ments that I might advance have on this enlightened audience, when the Legislature of Maryland, in an act more eloquent, more forceful, more convincing than any light words I might mold for the purpose, has proved beyond incredulity that the Field bill should not be adopted by not adopting it. The senators conferred with the people whom they represent, ' This oration was awarded the prize at the Public Debate, May 3. (73) delved into existing conditions, and fashioned the future as it doubtless would be under a regime brought about by the Furst- Field bill, and they cast their ballot. You know the result. The bill was voted down, yet my honorable opponents question the capabilities of the men whom your votes put in office, men whose duty it is to look first after the interests of the state, and after the interests of cities — even of the size of Baltimore — secondarily, men who are voicing your sentiments, or if you favor the bill are voicing your sentiments as they would be, if the veneered interpretations applied by its crafty champions were shown for what they really are. When introduced, the bill depended for its enactment onl on its passage in the Legislature. Later, when it was seen that that august body was not to be hoodwinked into adopting a measure, which apart from its many other drawbacks, was at variance with the constitution, its adherents tacked on an amendment, which also was unjust, and which also was uncon- stitutional. This amendment was that there should be a state- wide referendum. Now the Constitution of Maryland in Ar- ticle thirteen, first section, says — “nor shall the lines of any county be changed without the consent of the majority of the legal voters residing in the district, which under said proposed ch ange would form a part of a county, different from that to which it belonged prior to said change.” But there are some so unfair in their endeavor to further their own interests, who quibble whether the proposed annex would come into a new county, according to law. Allow me to read you what Judge Bryan has to say of this section — Nor can we say the City of Baltimore is not to be considered and treated as a county. It is a county in all legal and political respects. It is so completely recognized by the law as a county in everything but the name, that it is declared by the Code as one of the Rules of Interpretation of Statutes that “the word county shall be construed to include the City of Bal- timore unless such construction would be unreasonable” — and in this issue it would be unreasonable to construe it otherwise. Even if that had passed in the Legislature, Ladies and Gentlemen, it would have died in the Court of Appeals. Attempting to have that bill made law without the consent (74) of the people proved that its devotees were trying to get more revenue from taxes so that their blunders in expending the, city’s millions, and of contracting unpardonable debts, would not be brought too much before the public eye. Now, just prior to the adoption of the state-wide referendum amendment, the framer of the bill published an advertisement in the Baltimore papers, and to say the least, it appears that its purpose was to misinform the people. For in this article, among other shaky statements, is said— “Limits of Baltimore City extended four times by acts of Legislature without a referendum, by acts of 1745, 1747, 1773 and 1816.” It so hap- pens that the City of Baltimore was part of Baltimore County until 1851, and it was not until 1864 that there were constitu- tional limitations on the power of the Legislative body to change the county lines. Ladies and Gentlemen, when the framer of a bill resorts to such measures in his efforts to have his bill enacted, it is beyond my conception how anyone could maintain that that bill should be adopted, for if such methods are employed to have it put into eft ' ect, is it unlikely that the bill itself is unjust? And I repeat it, my friends, that a more unjust bill has rarely been brought into the Legislature. At this late stage of this evening’s debate you are all aware of the increase in taxes it will mean to the new territory. Yet these districts taken in have good streets, good fire protection, good police protection, good school houses, sanitary conditions prevail and in time the city will give them nothing. Now, from the standpoint of Balti- more County, the bill proposes taking seventy-five million dol- lars worth or forty-two per cent, of her entire taxable basis and but five per cent, of her territory. Think of this enormous disproportion — they leave the county only fifty-eight per cent, of her revenue to care for ninety-five per cent of her territory, and most of this is expended on the roads which will be left them to support and which are sworn to need of repair mostly by their users from the city. Hence this bill made law would mean higher taxes for the inhabitants of the annex, higher taxes for those still left in the county — since the great deficiency must be patched up, and lastly in future years higher taxation throughout the city. Yet this, according to (75) my honorable opponents, is justice, for they would adopt the Furst-Field bill which would bring about this condition. This talk of “harbor control” being brought into a discussion of the Furst-Field bill is a mere catchword used by the expo- nents of annexation, for the city to-day controls its present waterfront and harbor, and every bit of development along it, outside of the burnt district, has been by the private owner- ship of that front. It has been foolishly brought forth as an argument for an- nexation, that Baltimore is congested, that she needs room to expand, yet. Ladies and Gentlemen, there are within the city’s limits five thousand acres of vacant, desirable land and about eight thousand vacant homes. What Baltimore wants with new territory, is the taxes that would accrue from it, and oh, the emptiness, the absurdity, the hollow mockery of the ex- pansion idea, when it is found that the city would annex terri- tory which is already built up and settled, and wants to annex it because it is built up and settled. It desires to increase its population by law. What a flimsy pretext, which darkens the heavens with its injustice, upon which to take from the county’s people the government which they selected, and compel them, willing or unwilling, to pay city taxes upon city assessment. It is bad enough, my friends, that the tax-rate would be increased, but the property would receive a higher assessment, and in reality would decrease in value, for it was low taxes which created the demand. And be not misled because this body of the Legislature would give the new territory a lower city rate, since the next Legislature is at liberty to repeal or rescind their action. An objection from the standpoint of Anne Arundel County. The first development of her shores was brought about by the exculsion, under a health ordinance, of fertilizing plants from the city. Later the natural harbor of Curtis Bay, upon which the city has never expended one dollar, attracted railroads and the like. The county has impoverished herself in developing this territory, but when a return is due her the city would gobble up the fertilizing plants she once banished, though they are as unhealthful as ever, and welcome them back — for the great new taxable area they would bring with them. (76) But, Ladies and Gentlemen, time presses and I cannot sum up my arguments, but you will not forget that the Furst-Field bill was killed in the Legislature, where my honorable oppo- nents hold it should be adopted; you will not forget that it is unconstitutional; that it is unjust in so many ways. The same true American blood that enlivened the hand of Charles Carroll signing our Independence, the same true American blood that coursed through the veins of our forefathers of seventy-six, who held taxation with no return to be tyrannical — flows through your veins. Surely, though years have elapsed, American stand- ards, the standards of Marylanders are no less righteous, and I know that in your wisdom and justice you will not advocate that which your forbears fought and died to avert. No, Ladies and Gentlemen, the sons of Maryland of to-day will see justice done, and they will not allow the grasping nature of a few to shear the rights of their fellow-men. J. Neil Corcoran, ’i6. SeltrfH A rose flower, a rose face, your name upon a tree, Your sweet smile, your sweet ways that never ceased to be. In past years I loved you and still you call to me. To climb upon the hill tops and see the sunset gold. To pluck the snowy lily and watch its leaves unfold. To clasp your hand at evening and tell the story old. The songbirds in the pinegroves your treasured memories bring. The nightingale at twilight your simple virtues sing. Your voice I hear at nightfall as distant churchbells ring. A green mound, a green sea that foams with every tide, A sweet face, a sweet life as peaceful as it died. And my heart yearns to be there a-sleeping by your side. Joseph J. Quinn, ’i6. (77) MICHAEL F. FITZPATRICK, S. J. Mr. Fitzpatrick, who is to be ordained at Wood- stock the latter part of June, will be remembered at Loyola as having been Professor of Freshman class, 1912-13, and Moderator of Athletics. Mr. Fitzpat- rick also lectured in English in the Evening Course. (78) MR. ALOYSIUS T. HIGGINS, S. J, Mr. Higgins, who will be ordained at Woodstock in June, came to Loyola from St. Joseph’s College, Philadelphia, and spent four years among us as teacher of second and third year, prefect of discip- line and moderator of athletics. Mr. Higgins insti- tuted English in the Evening Course. (79) MR. DANIEL J. LYNCH, S. J. Mr. Lynch lectured in physics and mathematics at Loyola, igoS-igog, and was faculty director of athletics. Mr. Lynch will be ordained at Wood- stock College by His Eminence, Cardinal Gibbons, June 28. (80) JOHN J. MURPHY, S. J., ’03. Mr. Murphy entered Loyola High in 1896 from St. Patrick’s parish and received the A. B. degree from the College in 1903. He taught classics and mathematics at Georgetown and Brooklyn. Mr. Murphy will be ordained by His Eminence, Cardinal Gibbons, at Woodstock College, June 28. (81) Uptipatli 3nllg ISngpr HOMAS PERKINS, tavern keeper at Alberton, had ac- complished two things in life, which are worthy of men- tion: first he had shaken the hand of Abraham Lincoln, the night before his assassination; and besides, he had lived for fifteen years as “M ' aster Pirate of the Carribean.” The first fact may not appear valuable as it stands, but to Tom Perkins it was a wonderful accomplishment. How from his boyhood he had always longed to clasp the President’s hand and how he had succeeded, was one of the stories Tom reserved for him- self to tell by his tavern fireside. It was his story and no one else disputed his right to relate it; but the second accomplish- ment was vastly different from the handshaking. Everyone about Alberton had heard it, scores of times and any traveler, once he had learned it, was free to relate it. It was not a long story and not as mystical as the handshaking, which was pos- sibly the reason why Tom was not so careful about it. But the sages of Alberton never solved this, Tom Perkins, on his death- bed, did not mention it, and Tom Perkins’ grave at St. Cuth- bert’s refused to reveal its secret. But Tom Perkins, jovial tavern-keeper, had been a pirate and Master Pirate at that. This was an acknowledged fact among the villagers and every one that told the story, told this first ; except one rustic youth who began his story by describing the haystacks on Perkins’ farm. However, with all respects to this rustic youth, I shall begin the story according to estab- lished custom. The father and mother of Thomas Perkins had died before he reached his sixth summer, and Tom was forced to face the battle of life, young and friendless. Fortunately for him, in the throng of those about him, there was one who took an in- terest in the little curly-haired boy and undertook his training. I say undertook, because in the true sense of the word train, old Judson Brown was wholly incapable of training any one. Yet he taught the boy what he could, and at ten years took (82) him to sea. Seven years were spent with Brown on the “Nancy Gay” and for weeks at a time they never sighted lan d. Thus it was quite natural that Tom Perkins, at the death of his fos- ter-parent resolved to spend his life at sea. But to resolve and to accomplish are extremely different, and disappointments beset him at every step, until he chanced upon an old Yankee who agreed to hire him. While the youth was by no means enthusiastic over the appearance of his new mas- ter, yet he agreed to a contract for ten years’ service. “All that was needed,” said the old man, “was a willing and fearless spirit.” And so Tom Perkins sailed to the Indies, where he landed on a small and poorly populated coast. Here a new ship, the Larra, awaited them and Tom discovered that his future companions were all of the roughest class of men. But there was no escape now and he swore he would follow them and do whatever they commanded. This was the beginning of his career as a pirate. The Larra sailed beneath a great en- sign of yellow on which was embroidered a crimson dove, so that the vessel might appear as the property of some great power, but once she had stopped another ship, she raised the Jolly Roger, and then, as Perkins described it, came the jolly work. On their first expedition, Perkins said, he was forced to kill twelve men. Horrified at first he soon became a hardened criminal, a model pirate, so that at the death of the chief he was chosen as Master Pirate. He was well deserving of the name, for in thirteen days, he had sunk no less than twenty steamers, having first despoiled them of all their riches. But every kingdom that has risen must one day fall and so Tom Perkins and his band of pirates fell. Civil war had broken out in the States and the Union was rent asunder. Here was a chance for Captain Perkins to prove himself worthy of a coun- try’s honor and gratitude and thus he disgraced the cause of the Union and her standard by raising it over his crew of pirates. Going up from the Carribean in the Larra — an old evil, disguised in new colors — he resolved to assail every South- ern vessel, confiscate all valuables, shoot dead every passenger, and then sink the vessel. With these resolutions uppermost in his mind, the ascent began and the fatal night. At this stage of the story Tom Perkins always raised the curtain to look for (83) the moon, for, said he: “the moon was fullest the night of the disaster.’’ They had passed the capes of Hatteras about nine that night and a few hours later the master sighted what he thought to be th e “Stars and Bars.’’ “Look, mates, a prize ! A Southern vessel,’’ he said, and they sailed at full speed for her. But little did those hardened criminals think that on that vessel was a band of noble Southerners who had sworn to fight the Union and who were far better prepared to fight piracy. The story is soon told. Master Perkins boarded the ship, waiving before him his gun and the Jolly Roger. “Surrender, and quickly at that,” he said, as Commodore Ryan, the commander of the ship came forward to meet him. The commodore replied : “To an honorable enemy, I might feel compelled to surren- der, but never to a man who upholds the cause of piracy; I would die first.” “Then die you will,” said Bob Norris who had joined Perk- ins, and he raised his club to carry out his threat. But Com- mander Ryan had expected this and lifting his pistol, fired, just as the club was about to fall on his head. That shot was a signal for the entire pirate crew, and they lost little time in coming to the aid of their chief. Likewise it had aroused the commodore’s crew, and so the opposing forces met. The clashing of the pirates’ axes and the clanging of their swords had no terror for the Southern band. Valiantly they resisted, as long as resistance was necessary, for when Perkins saw his crew outnumbered and defeated he surrendered. By the light of the full moon he saw the Larra sink slowly to its watery grave, until the surging billows of the ocean rolled restlessly over it. Thus, with that midnight battle, his career as a pirate ceased forever. How Perkins reformed in after life is contained in that mystic story of Abraham Lincoln. Edward J. A. Nestor, H. S., ’17, (84) iSljr ICtfr nnh QIt|ararl r nf Itj? iFirst ICorii laliimnrp HE lives and characters of many illustrious men, who have influenced the history of Maryland, present to us wonderful and interesting subjects of study. But there is none so worthy of our consideration as the “Life and Charac- ter of the First Lord Baltimore,” founder of Maryland. He was a man of unswerving integrity, unflinching in the per- formance of his duty; a zealous patriot of high principles — a man who “deserves to be ranked among the most wise and benevolent lawgivers of all ages.” George Calvert was born at Yorkshire, England, in the year 1580. His parents, Alicia Crossland and Leonard Calvert, were people of rank. Under their zealous care George was carefully trained, and at the age of fourteen was prepared to enter Trinity College, Oxford. Calvert was reared in th e Anglican belief and educated in the studies pursued by gentlemen of culture, under the tute- lage of distinguished professors of the English university. Here, at the age of eighteen, he completed his four-year course, and in 1597 took his degree of Bachelor of Arts, with some dis- tinction. Later he made a tour of the continent. On his return, Calvert re-entered Oxford and in the year 1605 received his degree of Master of Arts. About this time a warm friendship sprang up between him and the principal secretary of State, Sir Robert Cecil, whom he had met while on the continent. Becoming cognizant of the remarkable abilities of his young friend. Sir Robert, soon after Calvert’s return from college, had him appointed “keeper of the writs, bills, records and rolls within an extensive province of Ireland.” At the age of twenty-six Calvert married the daughter of John Mayne, a distinguished gentleman. To them were born three sons — Cecil, Leonard, and George. Sir Robert Cecil had kept a watchful eye on his young protege and had carefully marked the fidelity and thorough- ness with which Calvert performed all his duties, and in the (85) year 1608 had him entrusted with the Spanish and Italian cor- respondence for the king. So faithful was Calvert in the conduct of his office that King James the First took an active interest in him and in the year 1617 bestowed upon him the honor of knighthood and appoint- ed him a clerk of the privy council, as well as keeper of the king’s signet. Two years later Calvert became one of the principal secretaries of state, and filled the office with honor to himself and great profit to his sovereign. Nor were the King and Sir Robert Cecil the only admirers of Sir George’s efficiency and faithful service. Calvert’s native county elected him to the House of Commons; and as repre- sentative for Yorkshire he fulfilled his office to the satisfac- tion of all. Later, as representative for the University of Ox- ford, he maintained the King’s rights and protected his interests in the heated debates of Parliament. Seeing him eagerly engaged in schemes of colonization, the King, in appreciation of his services, and probably for the furtherance of his own interests, at the dissolution of the Virginia Company, named Calvert one of the royal commis- sioners to whom that colony was confided. It was at this time that Calvert’s wife died, leaving him his three sons to rear, and to them Sir George gave a father’s de- votion and love. Hitherto Calvert had been an Anglican. But becoming un- settled in his religious convictions, and possibly being in- fluenced by Gondomar, the famous Spanish ambassador, and Lord Arundel Wardour, he renounced the Church of Eng- land, in which he had been bred, and embraced the Catholic faith. At this time the spirit of intolerance pervaded all Eu- rope. Men had not as yet learned “that conscience cannot be bound by chains nor enforced by scourges, and that religious liberty is an inalienable right of all.” What thoughts must have held the mind of Calvert when he determined to enter the fold of Christ! Was he not living in the wake of the cruel and bloody persecutions of the vin- dictive and relentless Elizabeth? Were not the Catholics hunted down, by night and day, like foxes in the woodlands? Was not the rack prepared to rend him asunder? Had not ( 86 ) the block been stained with Catholic blood for many years? Had not on gallows swung, before the multitudes, the twitch- ing and distorted bodies of Catholic priests and laymen? And here, surrounded by foes, yea, in the very service of the king, was Calvert, facing courageously whatever his profession would bring upon him. Fearlessly he approached his sovereign, pro- fessed his faith and resigned his secretaryship, saying: “I am now a Catholic, and would be obliged either to violate my con- science in the discharge of my office, or be wanting in my trust.” King James accepted his resignation, but moved by the honest avowal retained him as a member of his privy council for life, and soon after created him Lord Baron of Baltimore in Ireland. Though assured of protection by the king, Calvert deter- mined to seek another land “where conscience could be free, and where, in peace and security, every man could worship God according to his own heart.” Once more his eyes turned to the land beyond the sea. Would America prove a refuge to oppressed Catholics and free them from the vicious attacks of bigotry? Would the western lands harbor these, his hard- pressed Catholic brothers, and shelter them from the storm of ceaseless persecution? There alone might liberty be had! There alone might God be worshipped as He wished! Solicitous for his Catholic friends, and roused by the punish- m.ents heaped upon his co-religionists. Lord Baltimore ob- tained a grant for a province in Newfoundland. With his own m.oney he purchased a ship, and with two priests and a few colonists sailed to Avalon, where he landed in the spring of 1627, and remained until autumn. He then returned to Eng- land. In the following year he brought his three sons (who had embraced Catholicism), his second wife, one priest and forty pilgrims to the little colony. But they were not to be left in peace even in this far-away settlement, for a Rev. Mr. Stourton, having visited them, returned to England and in- formed the king that Calvert had Mass said in the province, contrary to English law. But mindful of the faithful service of his friend. King James paid no attention to the complaint. Because of the rigorous climate and unfertile soil, Avalon proved unsatisfactory as a settlement and Calvert was obliged to sail again to seek a more genial country in the South. (87) Reaching the Virginia colony where he wished to explore the uninhabited country on its borders, the oath of allegiance and supremacy to which no Catholic could subscribe, was asked of him. But remembering the words he spoke to the king, “I am now a Roman Catholic and would . . . violate my conscience,” he refused, and being compelled to leave, he explored the Chesapeake. Supreme in Calvert’s heart was the purpose to found a place where “every man could worship God according to his own heart in peace and perfect security.” Sailing up the Chesapeake he was pleased with the beautiful and well-wooded country which surrounded the waters of the bay. As the enraptured Calvert gazed upon the noble forests, majestic rivers and fertile fields, and thought of the joy that would fill the hearts of those who would follow him as pilgrims, at the sight of this western paradise, he wept for joy that he had found a land that would shield his Catholic brothers from the darts and scourges of bigotry. Sad of heart was he when, as he voyaged to England, the last glimpse of those blessed shores was lost, where deep and awful silence held the land — where peace and liberty would gladden the victims of intolerance. Landing once more on his native soil. Lord Baltimore begged of the new King, Charles the First, a grant to this beautiful land then known as Crescentia. Moved by the remembrance of Calvert’s faithful service to King James, and by the inter- cession of Henrietta Maria, his Catholic consort, Charles di- rected that the patent be issued, according to Lord Balti- more’s directions. Before it could be finally executed, however, George Cal- vert died, on the fifteenth day of April, 1632, and was buried in St. Dunstan’s Church, London, “leaving a name against which the breath of columny has hardly dared to whisper a reproach.” Such, briefly is the story of the life and character of George Calvert, the first Lord Baltimore, who was one of nature’s noblemen, one of the great laymen produced by Holy Church. It is sad to contemplate, that after all his works and prayers, he failed to see the realization of his fond desire, but left its completion as a sacred heritage to his noble sons who faith- ( 88 ) fully followed in his footsteps and brought his great idea to fulfillment. His career inspires Catholic laymen to a nobler realization of their duties, and fills them with a holy zeal for the Church of Christ, and for the welfare of their co-religion- ists. It is to all Americans a worthy subject of study. But to none should it be more familiar than to those who are the heirs of his glorious liberality and benevolence — the Catholics of Maryland — “the Land of Sanctuary.” Joseph D. Monaghan, H. S., ’i6. This essay Tron first prize in “ Maryland Bay” contest; 1916. At IJimltru (A Triolet.) With golden hair and chestnut eyes. He looked and liked the girl. Without a doubt she was a prize With golden hair and chestnut eyes. And then he thought, she’s just the size. I’ll stake it all, I’ve found a pearl. With golden hair and chestnut eyes. He looked and liked the girl. Joseph J. Quinn, ‘i6. (89) iffl ' ttrrs ur IGibrrtQ |T was midnight. The harvest moon was shining brightly through the trees, faintly illuminating the narrow paths of Waverly’s big estate. Walking stealthily along in the shadow of a clump of oaks, two men picked their guilty way. One carried a large bag suspended over his shoulder. His companion grasped a stout club, while the hand thrust with apparent carelessness into his coat, held a loaded revolver ready for immediate use. They cast occasional suspicious glances on all sides. Cautiously and silently they walked until they reached the public road, then broke into a run. It was not long before they stood in the willow grove, and in another instant had jumped into the powerful “Hudson Super- Six” concealed there and were bowling forward at full speed. Scarcely a moment later two men emerged from the bushes on the roadside, and mounting a motorcycle, speedily pur- sued the daring marauders. The thieves proceeded to examine their booty as they sped along. Hardly had they begun when they noticed they were pursued, and then started a race that meant to them either ar- rest or liberty. On, on over the smooth macadam roads they sped, and with each mile they covered were drawing closer and closer to the Potomac, which had to be crossed by a draw- bridge. The momentous question was, would the draw be open? Every second brought them nearer until at last the bridge was reache d. They did not slacken their speed as they crossed the span, but continued recklessly on and found the draw closed and they could safely pass. Meanwhile the pursuers gained little by little on the runa- ways. But as they came to the center of the bridge, they saw the draw slowly open to allow a boat to pass. They stopped in time to save themselves a drenching, but only to see the robbers land on the opposite shore and speed onward to safety and freedom. Leo C. Muth, H. S., ’19. (To 3oItn With a gladdened shout that class is out, They bear down on the line, With jostle and jolt they make a bolt On doughnuts sweet to dine. And with full store of cakes galore, John takes them one by one, From the liquid “sass” to the peach cake mass. Until the line is done. When the “dogs” are sold and the soup grown cold. And the line has dwindled thin. As an idler-on take a look at John, And say what you think of him. A good old “scout” as he roams about Through corridor, hall and stairs. And here’s my hand for your grit and sand With your carking counter cares. J. J. Q., ’I6. (91) (Sljp (IIIir0mrlp OO numerous to mention are all the events of the school year in class and out, but perhaps the following bare statements of facts will serve to bring to mind the memory of many a happy hour spent with chum or teacher, and if it does, its mission will have been amply fulfilled. The passing year is deserving of more honorable mention than “The Chron- icle ” can give it and yet this must suffice as a eulogy for the memorable year of 1915-16, a year which marked the largest enrollment since Loyola’s foundation 65 years ago, a year re- plete with innumerable happy incidents, and yet not untinged with sorrow. September 14. Today Father Rector extended a welcome to ail the boys, both old and new, on their return to school for the year of 1915-16. September 20. School was formally re-opened this morning with Mass of the Holy Ghost and return of the Seniors, who were addressed by Father Corrigan, their new professor. September 22. Reorganization of the Sodalities, Debating, Literary and Scientific Societies, with election of officers. October 12. Columbus Day, holiday. October 27. The annual retreat for the boys began today under the direction of Father Hargadon. October 30. General Communion, marking close of retreat, was fol- lowed by breakfast for all in the gymnasium. J. Neil Cor- coran, of the class of ’16, gave an address on college spirit to conclude the festivities. (92) November i. A departure was made from the previous custom of reading marks in the hall, and all marks were read in the class rooms and testimonials were distributed in the hall. November 23. Mr. Brickley, Hopkins’ football coach and Harvard’s star, was given a rousing reception after his address on “Loyalty to College Faith.” December 7. An invitation was extended Loyola boys to attend the performance of the “Battle Cry of Peace” at the Audi- torium Theatre and about 200 students were in attend- ance. December 18. The Loyola ’Varsity Basketball Team opened her sea- son with a defeat at the hands of Navy today. About 100 loyal rooters braved the elements and accompanied the team in open busses to Annapolis. December 20. A big rally in the interest of athletics was held in the hall today. Addresses were made by Father Rector, Leo A Codd, ’16; J. Neil Corcoran, ’16, and Anthony Buchness, ’16, at the conclusion of which letters were distributed to the football team. December 22. The customary informal entertainment by students pre- ceeding the holidays was given today, poems, addresses, recitations and music by representatives of the various classes completing the program. January 3. Classes resumed. January 7. The first of the sad events of the school year was wit- nessed this morning when the Freshman class attended the funeral of the father of Eugene Morris, ’19. This was the beginning of a series of illnesses and deaths among the faculty and the families of the students, which began with the sending of Father McLoughlin to Mercy Hos- pital. (93) January i6. Father Boone, one of the most venerable and best known members of the Loyola community and a former president of Holy Cross College, died this morning. His body was accompanied to Woodstock by the Senior class. January 22. The Senior class, accompanied by Fathers Fleming and Corrigan, attended the funeral of the father of Eugene Baldwin, ’16. January 24 to 31. Mid-term examinations. February i. The basketball team started on its rather unsuccessful Northern trip. February 2. Father Corrigan took his last vows. Greetings were extended him by Irving Hoen for Prep., Wm. Wickham for the High School and George B. Loden for the College. Father Corrigan was presented with a handsome “Spiritual Bouquet.” February 8. This evening the Seniors attended a banquet to Father Corrigan in honor of the taking of his last vows. February 23. “Cabiria,” a motion picture masterpiece, was presented for the benefit of the High School Athletic Association, about 750 people attending. February 28. Mr. Leffingwell, of the Bureau of Commercial Econo- mics, Washington, delivered, under the auspices of the college debating society, an illustrated lecture on Yellow- stone Park. March i. Loyola’s second annual “Parents’ Party” was a great and enjoyable success, a fitting tribute to the students’ energetic endeavors to make this affair a permanent in- stitution. (94) March i8. Loyola’s time-honored fireman and engineer, Mr. Mc- Elden, was found dead this morning. March 19. Mr. Neagle, S.J., was taken ill and various changes were made in the high school faculty. March 24. For the third time in as many years, Loyola’s representa- tive won the prize offered by the Maryland Peace Society for the best speech on the question of “Peace,” to be delivered at McCoy Hall. Mr. William Sehlhorst, of Junior, was the fortunate orator who triumphed over rep- resentatives of Georgetown, St. John’s and Johns Hop- kins. April 12. Loyola played the Orioles today. Result- — Orioles 15, Loyola i. April 19. Easter recess began today at noon and extended to Friday, April 28. May I. The very devout and commendable custom of honoring the Blessed Virgin was begun today by the services at her shrine in the corridor. May 3. Much interest was manifested and a spirited contest resulted tonight in the debate on annexation, for the Jenkins’ medal, in which Mr. J. Neil Corcoran, ’16, was de- clared the winner. The other participants were Messrs. Leo A. Codd, ’16; Ralph J. Sybert, ’16, and Herbert R. O’Conor, ’17. June 9. Annual excursion to Tolchester. Anthony V. Buchness, ’16. (95) EDITORIAL STAFF. ' EDITORIAL STAFF. ■ ■ i. ' ■ - . , , 7 y Editor-in-Chief : Joseph J. Qrinn, ’i6. Assistant Editors: RALPH J. SYBERT, ’i6. FERDINAND H. SCHOBERG, ’17. H. RAYMOND PETERS, ’18. J. 0 . SCRIMGER, ’19. JOS. D. MONAGHAN, H. S., ’16. Business Managers: HERBERT R. O’CONOR, ’17. GEORGE E. RENEHAN, ’18. Alumni Editor: AUGUST J. BOURBON, ’14. Athletic Editor: ROGER F. O’LEARY, ’16. Advertising Agents GERARD J. MUTH, ’16. GERARD V. HEMELT, ’17. HENRY J. CASE Y, ’17. LAWRENCE O’NEILL, ’18. J. LACY BRADLEY, ’17. J. LEO KERNAN, ’17. ROBERT A. COOLAHAN, ’18. MAX. L. MUELLER. ’19. (97) A. (B. of iMo Ptn (Catljnltr SJoupIh E Catholics justly glory in our literary heritage. A book- shelf without Dante, Montalembert, Chrysostom and Newman is a spectrum without violet rays. But can the modern novel of a Catholic entertain? Can it cause the sub- way guard to appeal vainly to the ears of the subterranean reader? Can it swirl the sun so rapidly in its course that un- heeding eyes are forced to draw near the dimming page? Yes, it can do these things, it does them daily and, what is more, co-incidently does the book lover good. Henry Harland had a tremendous vogue, and deserved it. He showed us how the bouquet made up of the lilies of earthly and divine love can be acceptable both to God and to man. Led by a star of equally kindly rays, Ayscough, Benson and Canon Sheehan, the A. B. C. of modern Catholic literature, take their station in the centuries-old studio of the Church, as painters of the same beautiful portrait — the portrait of human love elevated and illuminated by the serene light of that felt for the Divinity. Acting in this capacity, they hold out a type, a model, an illustration to literary men of the future. Is such a type adesideratum? Look through the store of contemporary fic- tion and see an object that is not there — God. Whose heart does not grow sad at the open display of grossness, materiality, sensuality? Is the scene a mountain? Enter the vapid banali- (98) ties of sentamentalism. Is the scene a seashore? Enter the same. Is it the dismal desolation of a desert isle? Enter the self — the very, same. The last mentioned setting is not more destitute of the traces of human cultivation than the modern literary output is of divine adumbration. These Catholic authors, on the contrary, see in human love an unlighted lamp which performs its useful function only when brought into intimate contact with the torch which springs from heaven. Without the loss of interest, of com- panionableness, of enjoyment, and with the gain of poise, of depth, of enduring laudation that borders on the sacrificial, they wield their beneficent, yet stylistic pen. But will they endure? Similar question are: Will the moun- tains endure? Will the sea roll its huge combers to the shore? Benjamin Franklin opened up to gaping multitudes the world of electricity. He endures. Columbus opened up to burdened millions a world of peace and security. He endures. By offer- ing to men a trilogy whose harmonious theme is love in con- junction with what is above, Ayscough, Benson and Canon Sheehan open up to posterity a literary world of interest with- out indecency, of pleasure without pander, of sweet recollec- tion without unavoidable compunction. They will endure. ahf Irnufr nf tbf Elrtttrn B!nr ' Y HAT St. Paul would control a newspaper if he were a modern is often declared. Let the savants decide the truth of this. In any case, that we Catholics are not alive to the ad- vantages the press offers, is, alas, too true. See what use others make of this colossal power. A crisis is at hand. Thous- ands upon thousands of letters and telegrams deluge the focus- sing point of a hundred million eyes. The press gives pub- licity to the reception of the missives. The object is ac- quired. The thing sought for is obtained. How? By the pressure of public opinion awakened by the written word. Too often do we Catholics “lie supinely on our backs.” If a Con- gressman fights courageously for truth and right, send him a letter or telegram of commendation. Does the editor of a (99) great daily admit an innuendo against what is holy and sacred? Censure him by the written word, immediately. Invite your friends to follow your example. Does the editor, on the con- trary, plead for the things of God? Write him a laudatory letter, immediately. Invite your friends to follow your exam- ple. Does an encyclopedia insult your religion or assert what is not true about it? Let your written word of protest enter that publisher’s office, but your check, the pocketbook of his rival, the impartial publisher. Let your written words for Truth and Justice and God off- set the written word for falsehood and injustice and Satan. In season and out of season, in fair weather and foul, by day and by night, fight the powers that stand for corruption with the weapons that they themselves employ, the spoken word, that dies, and what is more powerful, the written word, that sur- vives. Alumni AHHoriatinu, IGnynla (EoUegp, Saltimurp, iMii. Rev. WILLIAM J. ENNIS, S.J., Honorary President. Rev. JOSEPH I. ZIEGLER, S.J., Moderator. Officers DR. FRANK J. KIRBY, President. J. BOISEAU WIESEL, First Vice-President. L. FRANK O’BRIEN, Second Vice-President. JOHN A. BOYD, Treasurer. JOSEPH A. CAREY, Financial Secretary. AUGUST J. BOURBON, Corresponding Secretary. Directors JOSEPH C. JUDGE, REV. J. I. BARRETT, THOS. A. WHELAN, Jr. DR. CHAS. S. GRINDALL MATTHEW ISAAC S. GEORGE, CHAS. R. WHITEFORD, JEROME H. JOYCE, Jr., VICTOR I. COOK. . BRENAN. Chairman Election Committee DR. GEORGE V. MILHOLLAND. Chairman Entertainment Committee. J. BOISEAU WIESEL. Chairman Membership Committee. VICTOR 1. COOK. Chairman Reception Committee MATTHEW S. BRENAN. Chairman Ticket Committee JOHN A. BOYD, Treasurer. Chairman Press Committee J. STANISLAUS COOK. (lOl) DR. FRANK J. KIRBY, President Alumni Association. HE Alumni Association reports “Progress!” for the twelve months just passing into oblivion — a progress that has manifested itself in increased membership for the Association, increased activities, and increased interest on the part of the Alumni in all the various events of the year pertaining to the College and the Alumni Association. The Association grows stronger year by y ear, under the watchful guidance of Father Ziegler, S.J. ; and apace with this development is an encourag- ing advance in the “spirit” of the Association — the spirit with- out which there can be no true association, in the proper mean- ing of the term, no real co-operative activities. The first important gathering of the year was the Nomina- tion Convention, held in the College Library on Monday, December 15, 1915, for the purpose of selecting candidates to be voted upon at the general election in February. Nearly every graduating class had representatives present, and the selections could truly be said to represent the wishes of the entire Association. The Election of Officers followed, on Feb- ruary I, with an enthusiastic attendance. The plea of the in- cumbent, Mr. Philip I. Heuisler, to be excused from candidacy for the office of President again was harkened to with regret, whereupon Dr. Frank J. Kirby was unanimously chosen to lead the Association for the year. Mr. J. Boiseau Wiesel was elected First Vice-President, and Mr. L. Frank O Brien Sec- ond Vice-President. Of course, refreshments for the inner-man were not lacking — somehow or another, the Entertainment Committee is always “prepared” in this respect — and the even- ing was really most enjoyable. (103) Washington’s Birthday found us at Ford’s Opera House, for the annual Theatre Party. The play was “Kilkenny,” a de- lightfully simple tale of Irish life, with Fiske O’Hara in the leading role. The famous singer was in excellent voice — be- yond which nothing need be said to insure the completeness of the evening’s entertainment. A goodly number gathered around the festive board for the Annual Banquet, held at the Hotel Stafford on the evening of Tuesday, May 9. Speeches there were a-plenty, and excellent ones, too ; but perhaps most interesting of all was the announce- ment by the Rev. William J. Ennis, S.J., president of the Col- lege, and honorary president of the Alumni Association, of a gift of $20,000.00 to the College by the late Miss Eliza Jenkins. This announcement was received with loud acclaim; and was followed immediately by several smaller donations from various parts of the Banquet Hall. Philip I. Heuisler, the outgoing president, was master of the feast, and Dr. Charles O’Donovan was toastmaster. Both Dr. Frank J. Kirby, President of the Association, and Eugene J. Cuttell, City Statistician of Philadelphia, the prin- cipal speakers of the evening, deplored the systems of educa- tion that do not educate the heart as well as the mind. As Mr. Cattell expressed it, true education “must teach the obligation of being honest as well as intellectually alert, for, after all, there is suc h a thing as educating a man beyond his intelligence.” Mr. Cattell, who has traveled in 95 countries, and written numerous pamphlets on banking, civic and industrial problems, also spoke of the opportunities of Baltimore, and said that this city did not yet realize the great advantages she was to receive from the wonderful improvements she has made. The Hon. John J. Fitzgerald, U. S. Congressman from New York, who was to have been the principal speaker, was pre- vented from attending by the press of official business in Wash- ington. The Annual Memorial Mass and Communion, in the College Chapel, on Sunday, May 28, furnished a fitting climax to the year’s activities. A breakfast followed, in the College Gym- nasium, after which was discussed a proposed change in the method of electing officers. Then the parting — and lo ! another year had passed. A. J. B., ’14. g ' pppch of Jlrrsiiipnt iTr jok 31. Ktrbg, at Alumni IBanqurt, iHag 9, 1916 JT is an honor to be an Alumnus of any educational institu- tion, but it is a great privilege and honor to be an Alumnus of a Jesuit College, an institution founded by that chivalrous and ambitious Spanish warrior, Ignatius of Loyola, who first sought the light of truth while on a sick bed in the Castle of Loyola, reading the “Life of Christ” and the “Lives of the Saints.” “Realizing that coupled with truth were Infinite Goodness and Beauty, he adopted as the motto of his life — “To the Greater Glory of God.” Ignatius was the father and founder of the Jesuit Order, and his motto has ever been their guiding star. We are here tonight to demonstrate our affection, admiration and loyalty for this great teaching body of religious men who are the vital energies of our Alma Mater. “The Jesuit Order, what it means, what good it does, and has done, in the cause of education all over this broad world, is too universally known to require any distinct reference here. Suffice it to know, that it stands for that which is true and that which is good; hence it is beautiful, since beauty is the lustre of truth. “We are happy and proud to be the Alumni, the Wards, the Foster Children, of this unique educational organization, our branch of which is called after the name of its illustrious founder — Loyola College. “It was here in early childhood that our imaginations were set to proper working, our memories trained, and as we grew and advanced, our reason matured by the teachings and admo- nitions of our professors in the hallowed halls of “Old Loyola.” “Every effort has been exerted in teaching us to see the truth, to think the truth, and to know the truth ; and knowing the truth, to practice it. “What a great comfort for us now to know that every step, every move, every principle in our education has been in the right direction, towards the bright golden star of truth. It has made us free men, free to think and free to act ; it has sharpened our perceptions with a keenness to readily detect falsity or error in any and every proposition; to draw therefrom any good and ignore what is evil ; in addition, to prove on grounds of logic and true reasoning, why we have so formed our judg- ment. Truly may we say, “Veritas Vos Liberabit,” the truth shall make you free ; for we are free men, made so by a true edu- cation. Our reason is not blinded by the clouds and smoke of skepticism ; we are not fettered by the chains of false doctrines, and we are not enslaved by the narrow human theories of rank materialism, but by our training we are free men, free and ever ready in our service and loyalty to God, free and ever ready in our service and loyalty to our country and to our fellow man. “We return here regularly each year to offer our homage and gratitude to our Alma Mater, and well may we express our belief in her as does the Christian man who first learned to know his Creator, when a child at his mother’s knee. The little passage in one of Father Ryan’s poems often comes to my mind. “God is good, my mother told me so, when I knelt beside her knee, long, so long ago.” We can likewise safely say to our- selves: “My education is true, my Alma Mater told me so, when I studied before her shrine, long, so long ago.” “When we finish and graduate from College and go out into the world to work along future lines, we do not sever our con- nection with our Alma Mater ; we are still bound to her by the ties and duties of Gratitude, Loyalty and Foster parentage. She is ever watchful and solicitous of our welfare, rejoicing with the keenest delight in all our successes, and sharing our sorrows in any misfortune. It is not sufficient for one to join an Alumni Association, but we owe it to our Alma Mater to exercise a generous interest and assistance in everything that pertains to her welfare and further aggrandizement. We owe it to her as our duty to freely respond to all her invitations to visit her, to keep her advised of our accomplishments and achievements in after life, to make efforts to find out in, what manner we can add to her Glory and Greatness, and to aid materially in the perpetuation and spread of her name. “The good we have done as men, the advantages, emoluments and achievements we have attained, let us bring these as gifts (io6) and lay them at her feet, receiving vital inspirations from the tender solicitude of our affectionate and benignant mother ; and, in parting, promise her to return every year, either in person or spirit, to assure her of our love and fidelity, and to extend our heartfelt gratitude to her, since it is to this mother we owe all the great and grand actions we accomplish and enjoy in this life. “One must spread abroad as well as hear her praises, feed the holy flame so that all will know which beacon is the brightest on the sea of scientific life. As we live true to her noble traditions, we will willingly share her burdens, go upon her errands, never permitting any earthly thing to dim the light of our Educational Mother who has given us our chart and compass, whereby we may sail safely upon the ocean of life, spreading her truths for the benefit of the whole world. “The above ideas and many others have been beautifully ex- pressed by Dr. J. Franklin Jameson in his poem, “Alma Mater,” which I herewith reproduce : “ ‘To thee we come from far and near, Alma Mater, bearing Each his gifts to lay them here, each thine honors sharing. At thy feet once more they sit, find each year returning The torch at which our lamps we lit, still serenely burning. Afar we see that beacon light, hear abroad thy praises. Oh, feed that holy flame aright, till none more brightly blazes. We enkindling here anew, light of thy bestowing. Bear us as thy servants true, on thine errands going. Fill us with the highest things, oh, benignant mother. All that lifts man, all that brings brother near to brother. Spread the truth that maketh free, night to daylight turning. Let the world receive from thee, noblest fruits of learning.’ ” (107) ICayola (Su11p0( 3 n Qltutl liar Saya Rev. Joseph I. Ziegler, S.J., Loyola College, Baltimore, Md. Rev. and Dear Sir: Your card and application for membership in Alumni Asso- ciation of Loyola College has been received. Its reception recalled old and long-forgotten memories of Loyola College incidents of my school days — all happy days — in the long ago. My ! what a long span of time from then until now. And yet I can see rising before me the faces and forms, and can recall some of the names of my classmates, fellow-students and teachers of that time, although I have been away from Balti- more since 1868, with the exception of a few brief visits to my home folks. My first teacher in the preparatory class at Loyola was Mr. Chas. Dupont Byrd, a layman, of small statue, but well built, who was the idol of the class. His face was nearly al- ways wreathed in smiles. He was an excellent teacher, and was one of the kindest and most gentle of men I have ever met. I heard afterwards that he crossed the lines during the war, like many others from Baltimore, and was on General Stuart’s staff in the Southern army. Some of my other teach- ers later on were Mr. Forhan, nephew of Father Forhan, Mr. Smith, Mr. Hahn, Mr. Morgan and others, all of whom, except Mr. Forhan, were scholastics, and who no doubt, were later ordained. Some of my classmates were Charley and Walter Abel, Vincent Bogue, Charley Bradhurst, Hillm Sanders, Howard Hughes, Aloysius Crey, Geo. Pape, Griggith and others whom I do not remember. In the higher classes were Schley, a member of the family, if not the late admiral, hero of Santiago, Arthur Mlulholland Cassidy, Joe Hunter, Robert Brogan, Jenkins, etc. Among the priests were Father Clark, President of the College when I first went there; Father O’Cal- laghan, who succeeded Father Clark as President; Father (108) Forhan, Father Sorin, a most saintly man; Father Brady — not the Father Brady of late years who passed away not very long ago. I met Father Brady at my mother’s house, on visits home. He was very kind to her and assisted her in her last illness. There was also Father Kind and others whose names I do not recollect. I heard that Father O’Callaghan was drowned at sea either going to or returning from Europe, and was very much shocked when I heard of his death, for he was very much loved and revered by all. I believe we have still a small photo likeness of him. An incident of my earliest recollections of my school days at Loyola was a holiday given us in i860 to view a procession escorting the Prince of Wales (lately deceased King Edward), up Calvert street, in front of the College during his tour of this country. In the same year, I believe, we were granted a holiday to view a procession of the Japanese Embassy, the first to this country from the Hamit Kingdom. They rode in carriages and were a great attraction, with heads shaved and bared, dressed in fine looking silk kimonos, or something like that, and each carrying a sword. They were taken to Battle Monument Square, Fayette and Calvert streets, to which place the Fire Department, then probably the most efficient in the United States, was called out; the horses attached to the en- gines, hose reels and hook and ladders, came rushing into the square from all directions, and in a couple of minutes the fire- men were throwing several lofty, powerful streams of water. The Japs seemed greatly astonished and delighted, and were entertained in several other ways by the city authorities. Holidays always appealed strongly to us youngsters, and sometimes when we felt the urgency of the call of the country or of the water, we went after the older students, requesting them to form a delegation to wait on the President of the College and ask that we be allowed a day oft for boating or for a picnic at the Spring Gardens or elsewhere, which privilege was rarely refused us, and which we greatly enjoyed. The first news we received at the College of the attack by the people of Baltimore on the 6th Massachusetts Regiment of Volunteers along Pratt street on its way to Washington in 1861, was when Mr. Hahn, one of our teachers, who happened to be in the vicinity of the fight, retuijned with a big bump on his head, received accidentally from a missile thrown by one of the rioters. There was no more school that day, and ex- citement became intense throughout the city. During the following days firearms and ammunition were distributed in large quantities to the citizens from the police stations and other places; artillery and infantry companies were formed and drilled, the railroad bridges between Baltimore and Phila- delphia were burned or blown up, and men, especially negroes, were impressed on the streets and taken to work in trenches and other defences of the city. This continued for some weeks during which the Legislature passed an Act of Secession from the Union, which was promptly vetoed by Governor Hicks. The newspapers of the North, especially those of Massachu- setts, made dire threats to destroy Baltimore and its people and to turn the city into a field plowed with cannon. Gen- eral Benj. Butler, with an army of volunteers, slipped into Baltimore between two suns and captured Federal Hill, which commanded the city, and after that resistance was useless. The martial spirit then prevailing throughout the country was infused into the student body of Loyola and manifested itself in the formation of two companies, which were organized, armed with wooden guns, and officered by members elected from each body. A young man, a student, named Augustus Shutt, was captain of the company of older boys; who the captain of the other company was I do not remember. These companies were drilled during recess in the small yard used as playground. At first it was a novelty, and we who had not joined the ranks stood around and watched the drill and manoeuvers. However, we soon got tired of that and started to run around the yard and play our games as usual. In doing so we sometimes accidentally ran into the ranks of the Militia, causing more or less friction and resentment on both sides. We, the ‘‘mob,” became tired of having our playground monop- olized by the “sojers,” and one day, while at recess in the yard, we gathered in a body at one end of it and hooted and jeered the army” and some of the boys threw the coarse gravel, which covered the yard, at them. This was the “last straw.” Colonel Shutt formed his men in line of battle and ordered a charge. (no) The “mob” met them half way with a rush and grappled with them for possession of the “guns,” which were wrenched from their hands, smashed, and used as weapons against them. This “ruction” lasted for about an hour, and resembled a sure enough “Donnebrook,” resulting in a good many bruises, bloody noses and some black eyes, but nothing serious for any- one. Father O’Callaghan, the President of the College at that time, stood on a second floor gallery which ran around part of the yard, and harangued and remonstrated with the students, commanding them to stop it, but his words were unheard in the din and the battle only ended when every gun in both com- panies was smashed. The “mob” was victorious and the “army” was disbanded for good. I forget the penalty, if any, imposed upon us by good Father O’Callaghan, but it could not have been very drastic or I would have remembered something about it. A holiday always kept and celebrated at Loyola College in great style was Washington’s Birthday, February 22. We used to have a brass band in the college hall, where our friends and relatives used to assemble, and the day was dcvuted to music and oratory by some of the older students and graduates. A spirit of fine patriotic pride always pervaded these celebra- tions of the birthday of the Father of our country, which, could it have been seen and felt by the bigots of that time, should have opened their eyes to the falsehood spread broadcast, and changed their opinions of the Catholic Church and especially of the Jesuit Order, and the system of instruction, followed by them throughout the country. Mr. Dan Broderick, a boyhood friend of mine, living in Bal- timore County, is the only one I know now among former students of Loyola College. With kind regards and best wishes to all the priests and stu- dents of Loyola, I remain. Sincerely yours, David Hennessy. (ill) IGniiala Sibalittg Sortrlji Another year of oratory and forceful debating by the mem- bers of the Loyola Debating Society contributed much to- wards bringing it forward in the ranks of debating societies of Maryland. We need look for no proof of this but merely consider for a moment that it has for the third consecutive time carried off the honors in the oratorical contest at Johns Hopkins. This is an annual contest held among the five lead- ing colleges and universities of the state, the subject being “International Peace.” Mr. William A. Sehlhorst, of the class of ’17, who represented Loyola, convincingly demonstrated by his clear reasoning and masterly delivery that International Peace was not only desirable but certainly practical. The past year has been very successful in the regular bi- monthly debates, showing much study and preparation on the part of the speakers and closing with heated discussions by the members of the house. We are greatly indebted to our Mode- rator, Rev. Francis B. Hargadon, to whose untiring efforts may be attributed much of the success of the Society. The most important topics of the day dealing with matters of our nation, state and city were selected for discussion, including “Preparedness,” “Government Ownership of Telephones,” “Prohibition” and “Introduction of Natural Gas.” The preliminaries for the final debate were held on April 12 with representatives from each class of the College — ten con- testants fighting hard for the coveted honor. The four chosen were Mr. Leo A. Codd, ’16; Mr. Ralph J. Sybert, ’16, on the affirmative side; Mr. Herbert R. O’Connor, ’17, and Mr. J. Neil Corcoran, ’16, on the negative side. The subject was: “Resolved, That the Furst-Field Annexation Bill Should be Adopted.” Mr. George B. Loden, ’16, presided as chairman. There was an exceptional display of argumentation and ora- tory. The judges of the debate were: Rev. Joseph A. Cunnane, Rector of St. Andrew’s; Rev. (112) CONTESTANTS IN THE ANNUAL PUBLIC DEBATE FOR THE JENKINS GOLD MEDAL Francis P. Doory, Rector of St. Martin’s; Rev. Lav rence J. McNamara, Rector of St. Brigid’s. The decision was awarded to the affirmative side. J. Neil Corcoran, whose oration is printed elsewhere in the “Annual,” was declared the best speaker of the evening. Moderator, Rev. Francis B. Hargadon, S.J. Officers: President, Leo A. Codd. Vice-Presidents, Herbert R. O’Conor and Ralph J. Sybert. Secretaries, Eugene F. Baldwin and W. Ady Streett. Treasurer, John J. Quinn. Eugene F. Baldwin, ’i6. MORGAN DEBATING TEAM, jHIargan Sfbating S flriPty We look back with great pleasure on the season of 1915-16, on the animated debates, the spirited orations and the hard- fought battles that took place, when, in miniature congres- sional meetings, we decided some question of national policy. How we met at recreation to elect floor leaders, how we de- cided on the issues that must be won, how the minority leader strove to split the ranks of the majority: all these memories will be long retained and will animate us to further efforts towards perfecting ourselves in oratory as the constitution, Art. I, Sec. i, prescribes. This year an extra session was added for extemporaneous debating only and, while we are as yet far from perfect in this line, nevertheless all who took advantage of the opportunity thus offered are warm advocates of this practice. Indeed there was, in the speeches thus given, a fervor of eloquence which in the prepared debates was not so evident. The subjects debated varied widely, the honor system, inter- collegiate athletics, Mexico, submarines, tariff, immigration, annexation and prohibition having all come in for a share of learned discussion. We regret that we cannot now chronicle the result of our debate with Gonzaga College team in which we were repre- sented by Mr. Barry, ’16; Mr. Davis, ’17; Mr. Coolahan, ’17, and Mr. Reilly, T6, nor of the prize debate in which Mr. Davis and Mr. Rohleder, ’17, contended against Mr. Barry and Mr. Coolahan on the subject of “One Six- Year Term for the Presi- dent of the United States.” We thank Mr. O’Hara, S.J., for the time and labor he has, from first to last, devoted to us. He left nothing undone to help us in every way. Moderator, Mr. Francis W. O’Hara, S.J. Officers : President, 1915, J. T. Parr, T6; 1916, J. T. Parr, ’16. Vice-President, 1915, H. J. McCann, ’17; 1916; J. J. Consi- dine, ’17. Secretary, 1915, L. Hodges, ’16; 1916, J. E. Sullivan, ’16. Treasurer, 1915, J. J. Considine, ’17; 1916, S. J. Elwood, ’16. First Censor, 1915, J. D. Monaghan, ’16; 1916, J. D. Monag- han, ’16. Second Censor, 1915, E. J. Nestor, ’17 ; 1916, E. J. Nestor, ’17, J. Edmund Sullivan, H. S., ’16. L (118) S� lubrnta IGtbrary The undergraduate body of Loyola evinced during the past year that love of secular and religious literature which is in an eminent degree characteristic of the great body of Catholic laymen. Such appreciation of matters literary, in addition to being beneficial to the boys themselves, is extremely gratifying to the Faculty. For they realize how potent a factor in the world’s real advancement and progression to what is right and noble, is the cultivation of one’s mental faculties by literature of a chaste and excellent character. True as this is in regard to literature that inculcates the sane principles of a merely natural virtue, with what a greater splendor shines the truth that the Catholic writer who devotes his talents to the illumination and promulgation of the virtues of his faith, wields a power that is well-nigh omnipotent, serves a cause that is almost divine. That we have had such writers in the past, history reveals; that we have them now, observation in the boys’ library im- mediately makes clear. The undergraduates whose names are given below, loyally and royally offered their services for the labor of the distribu- tion and collocation of the books. Their unselfishness and generosity proved to be unbounded, and the routine work of the library was facilitated immeasurably by their work. Such zeal for a good cause is only another indication of that mag- nificent spirit that animates the great body of Catholic lay- men in its endeavor to put the torch of renewed faith to the dying embers of the world’s religious creed. Moderator, Mr. John B. Ryan, S.J. Officers : Chief Custodian, James S. Duffy. Assistant Custodian, Albert J. Sehlstedt. Assistant Custodian, David E. Fisher. Desk Librarian, Michael W. Fahey. Desk Librarian, George E. Helfrich. Magazine Librarian, Kyle W. Golley. Magazine Librarian, Francis A. Reynolds. ' ' 119) uiialtty nf ll|e Dm uarulati ' (Eunrrpliuu The Senior Sodality, or Sodality of the Immaculate Concep- tion, the sodalists of which include all the members of the college classes, enjoyed a most successful year. The meetings of this sodality are held every Saturday at 11.15 o’clock, and the exercises consist in the recitation of the office, reading of the minutes of the preceeding meeting, a hymn and then a short instructive talk by the Moderator, Rev. Father Fleming. These talks are looked forward to with keen interest by the students and they contain lessons which will ever present themselves when days at Loyola are over. Moderator, Rev. Richard A. Fleming, SJ. OFFICERS— FIRST TERM. Prefect, Leo A. Codd, ’16. First Assistant — Herbert R. O’Conor, ’17.. Second Assistant, John O’Connor, ’18. Secretary, J. Neil Corcoran, ’16. Sacristan, Edward Keelan, ’19. SECOND TERM. Prefect, Leo A. Codd, ’16. First Assistant, John J. Quinn, ’17. Second Assistant, John O’Connor, ’18. Secretary, J. Neil Corcoran, ’16. Sacristan, Edward Keelan, ’19. (120) oJiality nf Ibe Anuunrialiou The Sodality of the Annunciation, composed of students from the High School and Preparatory classes, has just com- pleted a most successful 5 ear. By their faithful attendance each week the members have shown their eager desire to pay to the Mother of God the honor and praise which belong to her. Greater fervor has never before been exhibited, and the number of sodalists far excelled the previous records, for one hundr ed and thirty students betook themiselves to the church every Fri- day immediately after class, to recite the office of the Blessed Virgin, and to listen attentively to a short instruction by the Moderator. We sodalists are confident that the Blessed Virgin will re- turn our love and will guide us through life, until we have reached the goal, until we are happily united with her in Heaven. Moderator, Mr. James J. Becker, S.J. OFFICERS— FIRST TERM. Prefect, Williami P. Hammond, H. S., ’i6. First Assistant, J. Wilmer Love, H. S., ’i6. Second Assistant, Michael S. Buchness, H. S., ’i6. SECOND TERM. Prefect, Michael S. Buchness, H. S., ’i6. First Assistant, J. Wilmer Love, H. S., ’i6. Second Assistant, J. Spalding Reilly, H. S., ’i6. CONSULTORS. Joseph T. Parr, H. S., ’i6. Kenneth L. Graham, H. S., ’17. Michael W. Fahey, H. S., ’16. James D. Shea, H. S., ’17. J. Lacey Bradley, H. S. ’17. Alan L. Andrews, H. S., ’17. Herbert J. McCann, H. S., ’17. Carroll G. Kirby, H. S., ’18. J. Leo Kernan, H. S., ’17. John J. Crowley, H. S., T8. Robert L. Berner, H. S., ’17. James L. Roche, Prep., ’16. Frederick V. Furst, H. S., ’17. William H. Flavin, Prep., ’16. William F. Schoberg, H. S., ’17. (121) IGfague of life § arrf Impart The work of the League is to instil the spirit of Christ into the lives of the students. Each month the promoters distri- bute the leaflets to their bands. Reverend Father Rector prays for the intentions of the student at the 8.30 o’clock mass on first Fridays. After the mass he gives a short discourse on the intention recommended by our Holy Father, Pope Benedict XIV. Moderator, Mr. Louis Halliwell, S.J. PROMOTERS. Ralph J. Sybert, Senior. Ferdinand H. Schoberg, Junior. Joseph C. Garland, Sophomore. David E. Fisher, Freshman. M. Spalding Reilly, Fourth Year. Louis J. Heying, Third Year. Lawrence O’Neill, Second Year A. Bernard J. Weigman, Second Year B. Daniel G. Barrett, First Year A. F. Xavier Keelan, First Preparatory. Thomas Brown, Second Preparatory. (122) A000rtalt0n 0f lliP i|0ly (El|iIJilj00ji The Association of the Holy Childhood strives to awaken among the students an active interest in the propagation of the faith in pagan lands. The annual dues contributed by the mem- bers help to support the babies that are neglected and aband- oned by their parents in China and other pagan countries. Thus a spirit of generosity, even though the amount called for be very small, is fostered among the members, and zeal for the salvation of souls is brought home to them. Moderator, Rev. Richard A. Fleming, S.J. PROMOTERS. J. Neil Corcoran, Senior. Herbert R. O’Conor, Junior. Joseph C. Garland, Sophomore. James O. Scrimger, Freshman. Joseph T. Parr, Fourth Year. James A. Considine, Third Year. Edward A. Kerr, Second Year A. Bernard J. Weigman, Second Year B. Daniel G. Barrett, First Year A. Leo A. Armstrong, First Year B. Alexius McGlannan, First Preparatory. Francis Burns, Second Preparatory. COLLEGE BASKETBALL TEAM. (flollrge Uaakttball r CHEURICH, Corcoran, Joyce, Buchness, Quinn, Hoshall, O’Connor, Streett and “Bill” Schuerholz — the presence cf these names in a Loyola line-up assures a season’s record that could not be anything but successful and that would re- flect nothing but credit on the Alma Mater which they repre- sent. Included in the role is one whose name has never appeared in a Loyola box-score, yet to none of the stars listed will the rooters for the Blue and Gold give as ungrudging and deserved a praise as to Coach Scheurholz. To him more than to any one individual is due Loyola’s proved eminence in the basketball world. The Loyola basketball squads are his athletic chil- dren. He trains them, praises them, counsels them, points out to each man his defects and explains the remedy and withal puts such enthusiasm into his work that at the final whistle of a close game he is more tired than the men themselves. The team has become so accustomed to placing so much reliance on his judgment that it is not the same with “Bill” away. An in- teresting example of his influence is furnished by the record of the igi6 squad, three of the seven defeats being sustained during Coach Schuerholz’s absence, while he was present at every victory. Conditions during the four years have not al- ways been most favorable, several of the season’s most im- (125) portant games being played so far away from home that the coach could not attend, but he has kept plugging away with the result that Loyola is now recognized as one of the leading teams of the East, mixes on terms of athletic equality with the representatives of the largest universities and has the proud record of 37 victories and 25 defeats in four years of such com- petitions. Hats off to Coach “Bill” ! Varying from its standard at most colleges, basketball at Loyola is not only a major sport but is the athletic climax of the college year. It is during the basketball season that the largest crowds turn out, that the teams from the large univer- sities are met and that the interest of the students reach the highest pitch. The past year was no exception to the rule. Loyola has a “big” league team in every respect and completed the longest and most ambitious schedule of its history with 13 victories out of 20 games played. All the games lost were played away from home under the handicap of strange floors and many times of incompetent refereeing. The schedule included games with Lehigh, Navy, George- town, West Virginia, Wesleyan and the leading Eastern quints. The regular season opened according to immemorial custom with a game with the Alumni, a quint of former Loyola stars. The game was close and exciting, but the old-timers tired out toward the end and the final score was 36-15 against the vets. August J. Bourbon, for two years manager of the Loyola Bas- ketball Team, refereed the game and his recognized ability in that capacity made him the choice for officiating in most of the important games. Washington College was next defeated in the gymnasium by 30-15. The team journeyed to Annapolis for probably the most difficult game of the schedule to lose to the Navy in a strenuous battle. The next game was with Lehigh. The spacious Richmond Market Armory was secured for the contest and to Loyola goes the credit of staging the big game of the local season when the Pennsylvania quint was defeated. The game took place on December 29 and was the athletic feature of the holiday time. Loyola, then at the top of its form, outjumped, outpassed, out- shot Lehigh, leaving the floor with 35 points against Lehigh’s ig. The Pennsylvania institution is famous for the strength of its basketball teams and had never before been defeated by Loyola. The second largest crowd that ever attended a basket- ball contest in Baltimore turned out for this game. Gallaudet was next defeated in two exciting games by a 46-24 score in Baltimore and by 40-36 at Kendall Green. The Northern trip was unsuccessful in respect of games won, though all the games were hard fought, but sweet revenge was had on the return games in Baltimore, Temple, Moravian and St. Joseph’s each being defeated by decisive scores. Mt. St. Mary’s, Mt. St. Joseph’s and Washington College were de- feated three games out of five, thereby giving Loyola a strong claim to the Maryland State championship. St. John’s, the only other contender, by refusing to play Loyola, put them- selves out of the running. Catching Loyola in a slump, George- town was victorious in a game in Washington by a three-point margin. They cancelled the return game in Baltimore, thus causing the only unpleasant feature of the season. The sched- ule wound up with an overwhelming victory over St. Joseph’s College of Philadelphia at the Armory by a 53-24 score. Scores: Opponents. Loyola, 26; St. John’s A. A., 12. Loyola, 36; Alumni, 15. Loyola, 30; Washington College, 15. Loyola, 20; Navy, 30. Loyola, 35; Lehigh, 19. Loyola, 46; Gallaudet, 24. Loyola, 23; Georgetown, 26. Loyola, 40 ; Gallaudet, 36. Loyola, 15; Moravian College, 24. Loyola, 20; St. Joseph’s College, 40. Loyola, 27; Temple University, 35. Loyola, 35; Temple University, 25. Loyola, 39; West Virginia Wesleyan, 13. Loyola, 61; Mt. St. Mary’s College, 14. Loyola, 26; Washington College, 27. Loyola, 23; Mt. St. Joseph’s College, 21. Loyola, 21; Mt. St. Joseph’s College, 32. (127) Loyola, 2; Georgetown, o (Forfeit). Loyola, 24; Moravian College, 13. Loyola, 53; St. Joseph’s College, 24. Total — Loyola, 602; Opponents, 445. Fouls Shot Missed Corcoran — 141 92 Scheurich— 23 29 Ulrich — o 3 Total, 164 124 Field Goals: Scheurich, 76; Corcoran, 44; Hoshall, 30; Buchness, 21; Ulrich, 13; Joyce, 12; O’Connor, 12; Quinn, 6; Street, 2; M. Buchness, i ; Harmon, i. Total, 218 Goals; 436 Points. Dutch Scheurich, baseball star, showed that he did not con- fine his athletic ability to the diamond by leading the team in field goals, scoring 76. 23 fouls brought his total of points up to 175. Corcoran, left forward, was second with 44 field goals. He continued his remarkable foul shooting of previous years, netting 141 out of 233. Anthony Buchness captained the team and to his leadership and individual playing much of the credit for the quint’s success is due. Joyce, always reliable, and Hoshall, at center, both played fast and heady games. Quinn and O’Connor gave Loyola a strong second line of de- fense and played in nearly as many games as the regulars. Both will be mainstays of next year’s team. A fair mead of praise is due Herbert R. O’Conor, ’17, Assist- ant Manager, for his efficient work in the early part of the season during the absence of the manager. And so passes not only a year of Loyola sport but a period. Names that have associated themselves with all branches of Loyola athletics until the two are synonymous will vanish from the roles to make way for new aspirants for glory. The spaci- ous halls, the well-equipped lockers, the wide spread campus of Guilford, will make the defeats, struggles and triumphs of former years seem small indeed. May the spirit of players and rooters alike live on — a bright and glowing flame to light the way and guide the footsteps of those to come — a leaven work- ing among the mass of the future until the whole be permeated with the Loyola spirit of good will and fair play. Scheurich — faithful, reliable Dutch — brilliant Neil, veteran Jerry, Capt. Tony — they played the game. Roger F. O’Leary, ’i6. liogflla g rI:inol iFootball ulpam ' HE High School was represented this year by a fast and plucky football team. The final scores were not always in our favor but the games were all bitterly fought and the never-say-die spirit was evident even against towering odds. The first game with the Maryland School at Overlea saw our colors lowered by the narrow margin of 7 — o. Daunted not a bit we lined up the following week against Friends’ School only to be defeated by the same score. We had not yet struck our proper stride. On October 22, Dunham’s School was met at Mt. Washington and Lind and Considine were soon wearied running up and down the gridiron with the pigskin. The final count was 25 — o in Loyola’s favor. Baltimore City College the next week proved too much for us . A heavier line and more concerted attacks by the Collegians were bulwarks of strength that our boys could not overcome. The following Thursday the team travelled to Emmitsburg to be meted out their last defeat. We were handicapped seriously that day by the unavoidable absence of Considine. Our only score was the result of a cleverly executed forward pass while the Preps secured four touchdowns. The teams came back strongly for the last contest of the year. “All’s well that ends well” and the football season was finished by defeating Marston’s Uni- versity School for Boys to the tune of 20 — o. The football squad was composed of the following: Ends — Flaherty (Capt.), Heaphey, Sybert. Tackles— Davis, Kearney, Bradley, Marcin. Guards — Ryan, Harrington, Elwood, W. Holew. HIGH SCHOOL BASKETBALL TEAM Centre — Buchness, Scrivener. Quarter Back — Hodges. Full Back — Considine, Lind. Half Backs — Parr, Davis, Kelly. Summary : Oct. 8 — L. H. S., o; Maryland School, 7. Oct. 15 — L. H. S., o; Friend’s School, 7. Oct. 22 — L. H. S., 25; Dunham’s School, 0. Oct. 29 — L. H. S., o; Balto. City College, 30. Nov. 4— L. H. S., 6; Mt. St. Mary’s Prep., 27. Nov. 16 — L. H. S., 20; University School, o. J. Edmund Sullivan, H. S., ’16. ifigl] laakpiball (Saam ' pHE basketball season in the High School was considered successful from several points of view. The squad held together well and reported faithfully for practice. Games with the varsity team and special instructions from the College coach, Mr. William A. Schuerholz, helped materially to weld the quint into a winning combination. In respect of games won and lost our average for the season was .500. The basket- ball team consisted of : Manager, J. Parr; Captain, M. Buchness; C. Kearney, J. Holew, W. Holew, K. Golley, S. Ellwood, L. Bradley. Loyola High, Loyola High, Loyola High, Loyola High, Loyola High, Loyola High, Loyola High, Loyola High, Loyola High, Loyola High, 4; Calvert Hall, 24. 22; Rock Hill, 52. 12; Poly, 42. 17; Calvert Hall, 6. 22; Mt. St. Joseph’s Prep., 12. 30; City College, 28. 24; Rock Hill, 15. 21 ; Poly, 29. 25; Mt. St. Joseph’s Prep., 12. 22; Mt. St. Mary’s Reserves, 27. J. T. Parr, H. S., ’16. HIGH SCHOOL BASEBALL TEAM. 3’cl|aal IBascball (Scam HIS spring witnessed the beginning of a purely representa- tive High School Baseball Team in an effort to win the interscholastic championship. An extensive schedule was ar- ranged, games being booked with most of the strongest High Schools of the state. Practice was begun at Gentlemen’s Driv- ing Park. The bad weather encountered during the early season prevented the team from getting into shape. Three games were lost in a row and a like number cancelled before the team got started, and up to date, won the last three games. The important games are yet unplayed. Joseph Harmon was elected captain. The present lineup is: Kerr, first base; Considine, second; Brown, short stop; Den- nison, third ; Ellwood, right field ; Reid, center field ; Geraghty, left field ; Harmon, pitcher ; Considine, pitcher ; substitutes, W. Holew, catcher; F. Holew, short stop; Heying, Scrivener, Flaherty, Bradley, outfielders. Harmon has won two games and lost two, Considine won one and lost one. Loyola Opponent. April I— Md. School, Loch Raven, Cancelled. April 5 — Towson H. S., Towson, 4— ii. April II — Calvert Hall College, Brooklyn, 9 — 10. April 14 — Poly, W. Forest Park, Cancelled. April 17 — Marston’s, Mt. Washington, Cancelled. April 19 — Franklin H. S., Reisterstown, 6 — 8. April 29 — St. John’s College Res., Annapolis, 8 — 7. May 2 — Strayer’s Business College, Home, 12 — 3. Msy 5 — Strayer’s Business College, M. A. C. Oval, 12 — 3. May 8 — City College, Walbrook. May 12 — Marston’s, Mt. Washington. May 17 — Poly, Home. May 19 — Mt. St. Joseph’s H. S., Home. May 24 — Towson H. S., Home. May 26 — Calvert Hall College, Home. June I — Mt. St. Mary’s, Emmitsburg. June 7 — Mt. St. Joseph’s H. S., Irvington. James A. Considine, H. S., ’17. SENIOR (BUbb BtntiBtitB tN these days of white spats and momentarily changing fash- ions, class statistics seem to be the order of the day. Prince- ton, Harvard, and the big colleges took their statistics and published them while a laugh ran up and down the land at some of the humorous facts. The fair damsels of Vassar and Wellesley chattered over the results of theirs until their giggles sounded like a crowd of country girls coming out of a fortune- teller’s tent at a county fair. And so we, the class of 1916, con- vened for the purpose of a thorough investigation into the habits, peculiarities, achievements and inclinations of its fellow- members. Devoid of pink-ribbons and French frills we hand around the facts for mental digestion. To the question “Have you ever kissed the unrelated oppo- site sex’’? the class not only showed their innocence but also their disbelief in osculatory germ transmission. They answered “no! but willing.’’ We firmly believe many of our class have temporarily joined the Ananias Club. It is rumored that if all the “smacks” that seniors have implanted on ruby lips and peachy cheeks were collected into one big sound, it would fav- orably compare with a Kansas Cyclone. Forty per cent, of the class abstain from the weed introduced by Sir Walter. They tower into the clouds for an average of 5 feet 9 inches and tip the scales at 157 pounds. (134) Kxactly one-half the class admit they correspond with young ladies but only as a distraction after gruelling hours of philo- sophic study. Athletics in some form or other is taken up by ninety per cent, of the class. Playing “ponies” was not considered strenu- ous enough — except financially — to be classed as athletics. Leo A. Codd was voted the leading orator of the class, while George B. Loden was second in number of votes. As the most consistent student, Ralph J. Sybert was chosen, with Eugene F. Baldwin second. As the deepest student, John A. Scheurich came first in the ballots. James P. Kelly was second choice. J. Neil Corcoran, as the handsomest man, led in the number of votes, while Joseph J. Quinn was voted second. Anthony V. Buchness and Leo A. Codd had honors even as the best all-around class man. The ballots declared John A. Scheurich the best athlete with Anthony V. Buchness second. Joseph J. Quinn was voted the best writer with Roger F. O’Leary second in number of votes. Mae Marsh, the appealing little actress in The Birth of a Nation, won first place as queen of the movies over Mary Pickford. Shakespeare was unanimously selected the world’s master dramatist. Dickens easily led in votes as the best fiction writer, while Napoleon was chosen the greatest man in history. Robert Hillard was voted the most popular living actor with Forbes-Robertson the greatest. Laurette Taylor was the most popular actress. As a class they chose Poe the master poet and “The Raven” the favorite form in English. Baseball was given the choice as the favorite pastime, with swimming second. It again had the choice over basketball as the favorite game to play. Every member of the class voted football the favorite game to watch. Incidentally, we are the youngest class that has ever passed through Loyola. As future vocations the degree LL.B. will have the greatest number of aspirants, with the M.D. degree as second. Let the seniors who are following fast in our footsteps make this an annual event, the taking of statistics. By them one will be enabled to see how future seniors excel us or vice-ver — well, it’s no use being too plainspoken, is it? R. F. O’L., ’i6 and J. J. Q., ’i6. (136) Y S, there are thirteen of us, but we’re not superstitious, have no cause to be, in fact. Sure, sometimes, we’re all present — that is, present bodily. “Whaddyumean ‘present bodily’”? Well, usually some of our minds are far away and our spirits borne on wings of thought to — oh, never mind ‘‘where to;” that’s personal anyhow. Who? Yes, that’s E. A. B. He is our representative from South Baltimore, quite a dancer too — he doesn’t believe in working after four o’clock on Wednesday afternoons; we don’t know why. No, he’s not a prohibitionist. The ‘‘short stout one”? ‘‘Abe Kabibble”? No, that’s J. W. F. our rustic cracker-box-philosopher from Govans ; claims to have lost weight lately, we don’t understand how, unless he could have been practicing singing in that superb mono-note of his. That fellow with the devilish eye is J. G. K., otherwise known as ‘‘Speed-King” or ‘‘Soda-Gormandizer.” Says his Ford can ‘‘PICK-UP” at a great rate. We have our suspicions that the accomplishment is not confined to the Ford. Joe spends fabul- ous sums yearly on the seductive ‘‘sodas.” ‘‘Suitcases on the radiator”? Stop yer kiddin’! Those are J. J. L.’s feet — course, he takes them down sometimes, usually when he gets in a political argument with annexationists, etc. (137) JUNIOR. Yes, the black haired one. That’s J. S. K. Hails from Mt. Washington; great chemist, though, in spite of it. Says that his test-tubes miraculously disappear from time to time and never return to their native home in Joe’s rack. Passing strange, but “there are more things in Heaven and earth, Ho- ratio, than are dreamed of in our philosophy.” Also, “in the spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns, etc,” but they do say that the active fancy of our beloved H. R. O’C. forgot to wait for spring. At least, such was the impression we gathered from the various opinions aired in class. There isn’t any use trying to hide it any longer, that wasn’t a cyclone which struck the room, J. J. Q. lost his pencil and he was hunting for it quietly, to the great discomfort of the occupants of several chairs overturned in the process. “A pugilist”? Of course, not. How ridiculous! That’s Mr. J. R., an extremely versatile young man, by the way ; his accomplishments are too numerous to be here set down — we might mention, however, that he dances, rides a motorcycle, buys “blue-books,” and “objects.” In the beginning he had some difficulty understanding how we could “go against all those great men” in our philosophy but he seems to have re- covered for he “goes against ’em” with the best now. They say that “still water runs deep” and we might remark in passing that, while we have not heard him making a whole lot of noise, we have seen W. J. S. bring home the bacon several times. F. H. S. is the boon consort of E. A. B., emerging each morn- ing from the vasty depths of South Baltimore and returning each evening to the reported gayeties and frivolities of that little known region. That bank-book belongs to our boy-orator, winner of the Maryland Oratorical Peace Contest, the “picture of health,” and possessor of the famous “latent spark.” It has been oft re- marked in class that W. A. S. has such “taking ways.” In the far South the Negroes have a saying that some people “is bawn tiahed an’ nevah gits rested” and, while we wouldn t care to say that S. W. comes under this category, we have heard that he is very partial to his ease. We are no slouch ourselves when it comes to ease, but mum s the word. W. D. Hodges, ’17. (139) SOPHOMORE. SOPH. S opliomarf Qllaaa 3fotpa w [LL the reader be so kind as to turn to the picture of Soph- omore Class, which can be found within these pages, and deign to examine it closely for a minute or two? Is it not a re- markable photograph you behold? Is it not a truly inspiring sight? O reader, have you ever in all your born days, seen such a galaxy of luminaries, such an assemblage of giant intellects or such a plentitude of resplendent, youthful beauty as shown here — and all massed within the scope of a single page? Nay, nay. We are certain you have never seen its like before. But come, let us now examine it more thoroughly. Let us, chem- ically speaking, decompose it into its several elements and state briefly the qualities of each. We begin with A. B. D.— Lord Alfred ‘takes’ Chemistry with the rest of us. He is also a member of our “Current Events’’ class. As a rule, he’s meek and docile but Heaven help the man who maligns “Billy.” J. J. D. — The actor and humorist from Hamiltonian fast- nesses. By his curl and his freckles will you know him. He forever arouses the ire of the expatriated barber. J. S. D. — Paints the lily and has chronic attacks of loquacity. Very perverse at times. “Now, James, if I say it’s right, it’s right, whether it is or not.” J. C. G. — President of our class. The only book he ever owned was a King Lear — and he lost that. However, he doesn’t need them. “He uses his head.” F. R. H. — An inartistic Teuton. Hopes to be an electrical engineer. “Now, Mr. H — — , what do you mean by an elec- trical engineer — one who fixes door-bells, eh? A. B. H. — -His picture describes him. Notice the lad with the sleepy, uninterested stare. Because of Berthold’s curiosity we sometimes hold class with the blinds pulled down. J. J. K. — The anarchistic janitor, beloved by all. His un- naturalized condition, aggravated by lack of the English idiom, causes him much trouble. But he struggles bravely. J. J. O’C. — Appearances are deceiving. In the class picture, John’s mouth is open wide. In class he merely “smiles and smiles and is a villian withal.’’ He’s being fast corrupted by W. M. R. G. E. R. — “Demosthenes.’’ George is a self-sacrificing hero. Many’s the time he has disputed, objected and argued the time away while the class studied Chemistry. “I see that. Father, but— — ,” etc., ad infinitum. W. M. R. — He has official permission to go out when he feels those “spells’’ coming on. Wagner received an honor card for January. By the way, what month was it our Chemistry pro- fessor was away at the hospital? L. C. R. — The elongated yokel who brings leeks to class. Every Wednesday afternoon his relatives become ill. Many years of toil on the farm gave him the massive shoulders you behold. “Schucks.’’ W. A. S. — The avidity with which Ady wades into Demos- thenes never fails to mystify and amaze the class. At times his ardor is reprimanded. Alas ! we talkative Southerners ! H. R. P. — Can be passed over quickly, mentioning merely that he is as erratic as his ‘wool.’ In closing, we would suggest that the reader hang the Sopho- more picture in a prominent place, where it will constantly be his ambition and his guide and inspire him to higher, nobler things. H. R. P., ’i8. FRESHMAN. ]fvtBl)mm (Elasa 5Jutra are few, but who said intelligence was the possession solely of the many. You have no idea of the wit, not to speak of the eloquence with which it is expressed, that is the property of this our class. You would have proof? Step into that room. Yes, the one with that ominous title above its door. Mr. Dante’s “Lasciate ogni speranza” has nothing on it. When we first saw it and entered we had no hope to leave. But you need have no fear. No one will try to drive T-R-I-G-O-N-O-M- E-T-R-Y into your head, and then your stay will not be regu- lated by the Faculty: you may leave when you choose. That good looking chap, over by the the window with the mob about him is Eddie. His theatrical abilities cannot be over- estimated: that’s the reason for the crowd. Raymond is the nearest competitor, but his abilities are of another sort. Ray will undoubtedly some day become a poli- tician : for no one can say so much and mean so little and make it sound so pleasing withal as he. His neighbor is just as wise as he looks even if his name is George. There do be some virtue in the country air. “Let George do it” has a meaning for us for George generally does it. And would you believe it? The further one lives from the city the more brilliant he is. There’s David for example. While a certain reverend gentleman is vainly exposing us to higher mathematics — we never take it — David is lolling somewhere about the corridor. How we do envy him ! (143) FRESHMAN. Why, he? No ; he is not so insignificant as you might think: in fact, he’s very popular. We are all indebted to Leo for — well, it wouldn’t be just the right thing to say, but I might add, Leo studies his Analytics. 1 thought you would be struck by his appearance. Beau Brummel or Lord Chesterfield had nothing on Albert. And, believe me, his manners are every wit as genteel as his attire. Yes, your suspicions are not without foundation. Although, to do him justice, I don’t think he is an Anarchist as yet, even if his name does lead you to believe so. For my part, I think we had better not molest Mr. C-Z-Y-Z. He is slow to anger, but once enraged — “turrible, turrible.” He is a pretty good fellow, but I’d prefer not to present you to him. You see I’m jealous of his achievements. Well, then, if you really must, his name is Hector. It’s true, we used to be good friends. “Alas, how light a cause may move dissen- sion between hearts that love.” And now I have the pleasure of introducing to you Eugene. He’s about as much a friend to me as Hector. Gene is a Re- publican — not of the G. O. P. — then I perforce am a Monarch- ist. But he always has the best of me; for, you see, he has the good fortune to be Irish, while I alas — And I er just my luck. Not even time to blow my own horn. Sorry to take such an unceremonious leave of you, but here comes that reverend gentleman I lately spoke of, and I haven’t done my Analytics. James O. Scrimger, ’19. FOURTH YEAR. Jnurtli par Qllaaa SJntpa HE class of 1916 entered upon the scholastic year with all the vigor imparted by a much needed vacation. Soon after the beginning of school the class elected the following officers for the first term: President, Joseph T. Parr; Vice- President, Gerard J. Muth; Treasurer, J. Ramsay Barry; Secre- tary, Michael W. Fahey; Historian, Joseph D. Monaghan. « Lessons left a small space for visions of the Christmas holi- days, and plans were formed for the mid-year banquet. On January 31, 1916, at eight o’clock, the class assembled in the Club Room of Hotel Joyce and feasting began. During the evening the following officers were installed for the second term: President, Joseph T. Parr; Vice-President, Gerard J. Muth, Treasurer, John T. Horrigan; Secretary, Michael W. Fahey; Historian, Joseph D. Monaghan. Cheerful discourses were made by class officers, Thomas H. Lind and Joseph T. Tormey. An earnest address on “The effects of College Spirit in College Athletics ’’ was given by Michael Buchness. Ed- mund J. Sullivan spoke on “Class Union.” Rev. John C. Geale, S. J., professor of Loyola High School Seniors, and the Rev. F. B. Hargadon, S. J., professor of Freshman, honored us by their presence and added to the good cheer of the occasion. When Rev. Jones I. J. Corrigan, S. J., professor of Ethics, made his solemn profession as a Jesuit, William D. Wickham offered him the sincere congratulations of the class of 1916. (147) On February 22 at the annual theatre party of the Loyola Alumni Association held at Ford’s Grand Opera House, the Rev. F. B. Hargadon, S. J., was the guest of the class and occu- pied a box with Thomas J. St. Leger, J. Wilmer Love, Thomas H. Lind, Gerard J. Muth and Joseph D. Monaghan. The play, “Kilkenny,” was a romantic drama of Irish life, and the singing of the star, Fiske O’Hara, proved to be a delightful treat. The class plans to have a yachting trip on the Chesapeake at the close of school, and as this proved to be a very enjoyable event last year, all class members are looking forward to the day when, as we plow the rolling waves, we may recount and live once more the happy hours spent in the class of 1916 at Loyola. Joseph D. Monaghan, H. S., ’16. Jn iUpmoriam On March 22, 1916, died J. Allen Dunn, a former member of Loyola High School, class of ’16. Because of ill-health he left Loyola in March, 1914. He was a model student, genial, affable and a highly esteemed classmate, and he is held in loving re- membrance by his former schoolfellows. Eternal rest grant to him, O Lord. (148) THIRD HIGH Sllftrb f par QHaaa JJotra w HAT joy, what untold happiness, what heavenly bliss was ours, as on the morning of September fourteenth, we sprang lightly up the steps and tripped merrily along the hall to “Room 2,” ready to embark upon another sweet voyage of learning. For two long, dismal months we had yearned for this happy moment, and now at last our brightest dream was to become a reality. For a few days we lived in a seventh heaven. But, alas! How fickle are the fates! How cruel is destiny! How relentless is our taskmaster! With the first appearance of Cicero, Xenophon and the jug book our fondest hopes were dashed to pieces, our loveliest air castles crumbled to dust. Ah! the awakening was “turrible.” In these circumstances we decided that it was best to elect some class officers to guide us to safety through the dark, gloomy depths of knowledge. Our choice for President was James Considine; for Vice-President, John Sweeney; for Secre- tary, Edward Nestor; for Treasurer, Harry Graham. At the October reading of marks, F. Geraghty, E. Nestor and L. Kernan furnished considerable entertainment in the way of essays of the first oration against Catiline. THIRD YEAR We added much to the merriment of the Christmas holidays by holding a class banquet and nothing could have been more successful. J. Meyer, J. Sweeney with their violins, accom- panied by H. McCann at the piano, added much to the amuse- ment of the crowd, and when “Spike Caruso” let forth his ex- quisite tenor in rich melodious strains, we were enraptured. Closely following this banquet we held the election of officers for the second term. They were as follows : President, James Considine; Vice-President, Thomas Marcin; Secretary, Law- rence Davis; Treasurer, Lacy Bradley. Thus far the history. But before we close let us introduce you to the makers of history — at least to a few of the rare specimens. The first is that large, dark-haired youth in the center. He is our illustrious president: see how his jaws are set in firm determination ; see how those eyes flash Are ! He is also the very backbone of High School Athletics. Who will ever forget those words, “City Beats Considine”? No, he is not dangerous as a rule, but we are careful never to let him taste blood. That sweet-faced chubby little angel with the heavenly smile is our class beadle. His duties are performed to perfection out- side of the fact that we are generally sans chalk, sans erasers, sans everything. He has developed a dreadful habit lately : he ravenously devours all our themes and strangely enough has as yet suffered no evil effects. Our Plant is still growing. From indications it seems that C.O’D has been spending all his time and energies in mastering Joe Miller’s note-book. For the last few days there have been strange rumors float- ing in the air. Of course we are not certain. Can it be that the meek, the gentle hath unearthed a gory hatchet — s’blood ! Who whispered “Row-1 — der”? Beware ! ! ! Two new members joined our ranks in September. One, Charles Yingling, comes in every day from the wild and woolly Westminster. Strange to say, he is never late, despite the fact that he travels on the W. M. R. R. and often enough has to get out and push. Frank Turner, the other new member, has aided us wonderfully since he has been in our midst. For six long months he has battled with the terrific problem of a whistling radiator and he has finally reached the conclusion that a toothpick has the Maxim silencer beaten by a mile. Another very queer specimen is the German Ambassador. When John rises to speak a death-like hush falls over the multi- tude as in a soft, sweet voice he whispers, “Gentlemen, I realize that I am embarking upon a subject of stupendous responsi- bility. I am overwhelmed. Words fail me.” With this he takes his seat, and the moist eyes in the crowd show what ef- fect his words have had on their tender emotions. For the past few weeks a certain member of this dignified body has caused us many sleepless nights. He insists on writ- ing love series and didactic essays on love. O Cupid, spare to us our gentle Edward ! He is yet young and tender. Pierce him not with thy relentless arrows. What shall I say of the last few glorious events of the year : the Easter banquet, the trip to Woodstock, the outing? What need is there to recall these? How vividly the mere mention of them brings to mind the brilliant ending of the year! And years after when one member of this Third Year Class meets another and a conversation on old times ensues the glorious events of this year will rank high in the list of the “Haec olim.” R. Lawrence Davis, H. S., ’17. (152) (ElaHa Hatpa -g’pranii par “A” The menagerie known as Second Year “A,” assembles every week-day except Thursday, in Room 5. Towards the back of the room sits Exhibit E. A. K., Mr. Kerr, ballplayer and author, knovn in French class as She-he. We think he is president of the class. To his right is Exhibit G. H., a jumping-jack. Knows vol- um.es, but expresses himself mostly in one word, “Mister.” Next is R. L. B., the plurale majestatis, while after him is J. H. G. from Curtis Bay, our cartoonist. In front of Mr. Kerr is B. C., the Human Megaphone. He prefers kneeling to any other position. Just look, O Reader, what J. J. C., J. S. H., and S. R. can do when they study. Of course, we keep T. V. M., our Beau Brummel, in the front seat. Next exhibits are R. R. T. and Dr. T. C. The first is a nice fellow, but he refuses to hock his automobile for a pencil. The latter is debater, handy man and manager of the Reserves. By the way, the Reserves are a good team, and expect a successful season. Exhibit A., Lucius A., is our writer of Diamond Dick stories. (153) SECOND YEAR Now we have the soi-disant speed-marvel, W. J. F. S. and F. S., our football star. One is an all-around athlete, while the other is descended from a family of debaters, and shows de- velopment in that line himself. L. O’N. is the man from Egypt. He is the Sphinx. As a business man he gives every promise of becoming a second O’Neill of Baltimore, of dry goods fame. A. C. is a good basketball player besides being a good fellow. TO RUFUS. There once was a red-haired galoot. Who never came out but to root. He was put in the game. Made the hot ones look tame. But fanned on the pitcher’s in-shoot. The Perpetual Motion act is performed daily, and Sunday also as far as we know, by B. C., J. J. C., and J. S. T. LeR. D. is one of our best debaters and the leading as- pirant of the paperweight championship. L. M. disclaims all relationship to the Mexican general of that name, but we are told that he may be a connection of Charlie Chaplin. K. G. is an author. As he sleeps a good deal it is probable that he writes up his dreams. E. T. is one of our poets. He likes “Lorna Doone.” As we go to press, news comes that Mr. Ryan intends to es- tablish a sawdust trail, so that anyone who makes a bright statement can go up and shake hands with the Beadle. We would bet that N. S. would be the first trail-hitter, as he seems to like such things. We put J. McC. last because we like him. If we put some- body last that we didn’t like, it would be rather awkward to explain. “Mac” is said to have a “Caesar’s Gallic War” with excellent notes. Daaa-ang! There goes the bell! Good-bye! (155) SECOND YEAR “B. IC’Ettuni by LOYOLA FOLK. (A ' ith apologies to Saturday Evening Post.) There are fat folk, and lean folk, And sort of in-between folk, And queer folk, and dear folk, And folk of every kind. There are happy folk, and lonely folk: But after all, the only folk. Are the folk like thee and thy folk — The nicest folk I find. Richard L. Ball, L. H. S., T8. With a deep sigh of resignation, we boys assigned to Second High “B,” dropped into our desks and pored over the first pages of the — to our minds— mystic Greek book. But do not think, gentle reader, that this studious burst lasted long, for the novelty soon wore off. The officers for the year were : Presi- dent, Bernard J. Weigmann; Vice-President, Carrol A. Read; Secretary, Gerald W. Barrett; Treasurer, George J. Eichelman. They performed their duties nobly. Our class of twenty-five members is the most representa- tive in the college. Among our specimens of budding man- hood are those picked up at Waverly, Halethorpe, Lansdowne, Highlandtown, Catonsville, Sparrows Point, Mount Washing- ton, and almost every other locality in Maryland. Nevertheless, we defy anyone to say that this class does not contain smart and studious boys! Indeed, we members of Second High “B” can honestly and truthfully say with our patient and worthy pedagogue that we have never (?) given him one second’s trouble at a time ; even “J. I- K- ’ our loqua- cious fellow-student from Halethorpe, agrees with us in that matter. In our efforts at “studiosity” we have with us “W. J. L.,” our featherweight, who may be seen any day at Waverly, after four o’clock. He has great hopes of meeting Chaney, and his favorite anthem is “Brighten up the office where you work.” The n you see “L. E. H.,” poet laureate of the class, who ' unfortunately has a habit of forgetfulness. “B. J. W.,” the Class Beadle, and some Beadle at that. He loves (?) his Greek. At the waste paper basket may be seen “F. V. F.,” the Ward’s Cake Boy, with a continual smile on his countenance. Keep it up, Freddie; try to be as sweet as the cake! When there is a knock at the door, with a jump “G. W. B.” throws open the portal, thereby gallantly assisting the Beadle. He is an efficient scholar and knows more Latin than his friend, Caesar. Gerald says, “If ‘G. D. J.’s’ brother is in any respects like him, ‘Keeping up with the Jones’s is some job, for George speaks Greek like Demosthenes.” When you look quite closely you may be able to discern the smiling features of “F. L. A.” But if you don’t care to look, just stop and listen — if he is there you will hear him. By a similar method, you will discover “R. L. B.,” the class jester. His motto is: “Hoch der Kaiser,” as “F. A.” well knows. “W. J. P.,” who hails from Woodstock, usually has hard luck with the trains. Under normal conditions the train comes in at nine-ten, but sometimes a cow overtakes it and there is a general commotion. Why don’t you get a goat, Willie, and let him bring you to school in a hurry? If anyone wishes to buy a laugh cheaply, apply at once to “R. T. D.,” who is now selling his at a bargain. Also if you wish to have any snow shoveled, apply to the same personage. In the sweet realm of the “go per cent.” there are : “F. J. M.,” the Monsieur of the class and a worthy son of France; however, he is strictly neutral ; “W. F. S.,” one of our future statesmen, who has a lease on “First Honors;” “G. J. E.,” the man from Missouri, though he now rusticates at Lansdowne. He loves his “Indian” almost as much as his “White;” “A. P. M.,” duckpin champion of Sparrows Point, that noble seaport; and (158) “E. F. F.,” future editor with gardens growing in his com- positions. “C. F. P.” writes very original compositions, the prize-taker of which is “The Mystery of the Haunted Manor,” featuring Shrimp Flynn and Skinney Shanner. He certainly admires the former. Never mind, Charlie, they copied it from you. Together are “F. R. E.,” the historian, who has probably read more literature than the whole class together, and “R. A. C.,” the pride of Howard Park, who v ears a green tie and speaks French. He, at l east, is neutral. “J. C. H.” gets gay sometimes, but otherwise is a fine chap. Some sa yhe is supporting the gum-rack movement. He also takes great pleasure in writing detective stories, which even rival A. Conan Doyle’s. He is a great admirer of Spartacus. If you want to know a scholar, let us introduce “C. V. K.,” who claims his initials stand for “collects vast knowledge.” In “B. J. M.” we have a future basketball star. Keep it up, Benny, and you will have Neil’s place. Did I understand someone to say that, as he looked about, he heard a fog horn? No, sir, you’re wrong; it was only “C. A. R.” trying to whisper to his neighbor with that clear voice of his. Last, but not least, we have “J. J. C.,” a wide-awake (?) fellow from Mt. Washington, who greatly loves Algebra. Don’t worry, Jennings, Wentworth didn’t write his book in a week. When you peruse this, dear reader, all our troubles of ’i5-’i6 will be over and sweet memories of “hitting the trail to jug” will be floating through our heads as we lie abed dreaming of our beloved Second High “B,” which we shall never see again. B. J. W., H. S., ’i8. FIRST YEAR “A.’ JffirHt fpar “A” (Elaaa Noto On the morning of September 14 we assembled thirty strong from the four cardinal points to begin our first year’s appren- ticeship at shipbuilding. Shipbuilding? Loyola’s not a dry- dock! Aye, but we speak of ships to bear us o’er life’s sea. All at first set to work to lay hulls for men-of-war, but as time progressed some narrowed their plans to cruisers and pleasure yachts. For while the rosa-and-rivus girders were easy enough to mold and bend, driving bolts through armor plate verbs shook their purpose. A few, I believe, will end with canoes. Anyhov , they’re much safer in these u-boat days. After noting our stock of brawn and brains we elected the following to our board of directorship: Chairman, Francis Y. Heaphey; Secretary, Daniel Barrett; Treasurer, John Schwarz. How we loved to listen to the chairman’s flow of wit, the secretary’s lively minutes and the pleadings of the treasurer. Special mention should be made of our “Viri,” our heroes, crowned and uncrowned, who, whether honor men or not, have all striven nobly and with a will. All know who they are. (161) Were they not so modest, we would name them here; but we shall reserve this praise for another occasion. By the way, in conferring crowns do not forget our De- mosthenes. Scribe, H. S., ’19. JfftrBt f far OHaas Natrs The class of First Year “B” can truthfully say that as a whole they have spent a most profitable year, both in and out of the class room. You know the routine of the school room perhaps only too well. Hearken now to a few of our activities beyond the confining pedagogic threshold. One fine day last September we had a glorious picnic to Curtis Bay and then for the first time began to admire the athletic prowess of our teacher. Late in the fall, basketball was taken up with a zest and many enjoyable afternoons were spent at this indoor sport down in the gym. Another ever-memora- ble day was the skating picnic at Gwynn Oak which nearly the entire class attended. These Thursday outings of course were merely by the way and never for a moment interfered with the all-too-serious work of study and preparation for school. ’Tis said the other classes were a wee bit envious of us when they read the finals on the announcement board telling the number of tickets each class had sold for the basketball games. We were genuinely sorry to lose Mr. Neagle, S. J., soon after the second term had begun and are glad to hear that his operation was so successful. Here’s hoping to see each and every one back to dear, old Loyola, hale and hearty, next September. Gerard Warwick, H. S., ’19. FIRST PREPARATORY. ilitrHl Prrparatnrg I EBASTIAN O. Believes in the old adage: “Better late then never.’ ' A hefty little catcher — more frequently ca ught himself, however, than the ball. Arthur J. Hails from rosy Govans, but looks as wise as a real city-boy. ' A good umpire — judge rather — in the baseball game. John W. .Always right — right smart, though right young — just 12. He would rather be Wright than President or even Captain of class. Never talks. Of course we can’t answer for his sleep time at home or in class. Always on time. Thinks it better never than late. S. O. thinks differently. Peoples’ tastes do differ so. Louis W. The boy who never runs. He can’t. Was late for class only one day in the year. An enviable record. Some few are late just about five times a week. R. R. The latest to don long pants and so the last in the class so far to become a real man, was jealous of Wilhelm and Weber and Beese. John L. Good at catching flies — we mean on the ball field, for all can bear witness that he seldom opens his dainty mouth. Wimbemil. Bring the class number up to 50. There are 40 besides. These two halves make the 50th. They will be big some day and then each will count for a whole one. Wilhelm, look out for your laurels ! Little boy W. won the big contest, the biggest of the ye the Latin Declension Contest. Another proof one does not have to be big to do big things. L. P. Class artist. More power to you, Leonard. Well named and his chief power is in exquisite map-drawing. F. W. The Kaiser No. 2. Far superior to No. i in size. Promises to stop growing, otherwise the stars will be in dan- ger. Then, besides, Wimbert and Milton are so jealous. C. L. More a Christian than any other boy in the class. W. F. Holds the class spell-bound. To look at him one would not think he was a spell-binder, but there is no disputing a fact. C. S. A. Able to support the weight of the long pants all right. Many nations represented in our wall art-gallery of which Charles is an able contributing artist. Irving H. Comes from the hills, just one of them, not ten. Nothing greedy about him. Only one-tenth the size of Barney. We think he could whip that young gentleman, though, in a fair test. Carried off the prize in gold for the Christmas prize composition. Some artist. Milton F. Not Milton, the poet, but the question-box of the class. The questions are worth while, too. F. A. R. Wide awake sometimes. The only ist Prep, boy with anything to show on the upper lip. Keep coaxing it, Fran- cis, it’s the only one in the class. Even the teachers have none. Can’t delay long with the long pants now. The long-expected have arrived. Martial F. Well named. Quite a soldier. Always gentle, except when on our outings. Then he thinks he’s it, even when not playing tag. W. W. Popular captain and bright-eyed boy. Very quiet when captain, but at other times even more so. J. F. Most popular captain. In for three terms with still one more chance. Once a very good boy; now better than ever. (166) Leonard Bb. Never won a contest yet, but always good in Spelling Bees. Occasionally makes stinging remarks in the playground, but in class his language is as sweet as honey and the honeycomb. Buzzes while studying the Latin declensions. Would be a good pitcher if he pitched to the Cyclops. W. H. Full of good nature and smiles. Hails from God’s •country, the first place after Eden, he thinks, that the Lord made. We have our doubts. What about lo Hills and Mt. Washington? J. Preston J. Not our Mayor but our Charlie Chaplin. Full of good nature. Never over-serious. Why should he be? A simple child That lightly breathes the air And feels his life in every limb. What should he know of care? J. L. Helps to decorate the classroom wall with his elegant maps in color. Never known to be cross. Notice that, Arthur. F. X. K. The poor treasurer of our class, ist Preps, never load him down with silver contributions. Is afraid he will not be big enough to go to ist High, Section A next year. Keep up your courage, F. X., there’s a Section B. A. M. Our latest arrival. Better late than not at all. Alex. McG. With a smile that is childlike and winning. Never yet lost in a fight, because he never deals in fisticuffs. Believes rather in the battery of the eyes. Look out for those eyes, you evil-doers, you v icked Preps. Alex, doesn’t believe in missing lessons. A. N. A hard student sometimes. Occasionally quiet. But oh ! all the mischief he can do in just five little minutes ! B. H. A bright little boy who will star in ist High — you just watch and see if he doesn’t. The secret of his success lies in the abundance of fresh air from the hills. Of this he has ten times more than any other boy in the class. This also explains his gigantic size. A great student of nature ; has learned some- thing from the goats on the hills, and if there are none there then he learned it from the birds. (167) C. H. Great at fish stories. It was absolutely true, though, that he caught the most at Relay. J. Wright. Never wrong in his life so far, and, what is more, never will be. One of our angels without wings. J. B. Very good at figures and, like them, too, he never lies. Scores a point on the Illustrious George. Leo Du F. Quite a gentle lion — his name should have been Agnes. We like to hear him talk — but, as to his singing. Oh, that’s another thing. Excuse me. M. D. — Not a doctor. Handles the basketball like a past master. Never hear him except on the diamond. C. H. E. Only one “E” in Prep. Gentle as a sleeping lamb- kin. Believes in hard work. C. F. More laughs than grins to his account. That’s right, Charles, remember the old saying: “Grins to our coffin add new nails, no doubt. But every laugh so merry draws one out.” F. S. Small of stature and so a good short stop on the Prep, team. One of the jolly set. Quite familiar with the 2.30 P. M. institution, vulgarly called “jug.” M. H. Gone, but not forgotten. He made his mark. We don’t mean by this that Matthew can’t write. “Come often to us, sit near us on the bench, etc.” D. H. One of our midgets. He and L. B. and Wilhelm to- gether would make a good-sized man. Draws the line on map paper. L. T. As gentle as two lambs. Hard to beat in telling stories— now we don’t mean lies. G. F. Fond of the sunlight, so he sits in the corner near the window. A recent convert (not later than Sunday) since he brightens up the corner where he is. L. McG. Good-natured and kind, studies occasionally; never tells stories any more. W. T. Small, but big in marks. Carries home occasionally the envied prize, either in gold or in silver. (168) J. T. His brother. With his other half will be big some day. A good worker. No drone in the class bee-hive. Adam W. Prep’s best worker. Great things in store for A. as for all hard workers. This young Adam has it in for his namesake ever since he heard in Catechism class that all our woes — books, tasks, declensions, irregular verbs and complex sentences included — had their beginning in the old Adam many moons ago. J. R. B. A real white boy. No fooling. Quite a Latin scholar. A close second in the “Spelling Bee.” Once captain. J. Robb. In company with S. F. brightens up the other cor- ner. A very honest boy, but misnamed. J. B. Never has the 9 o’clock sickness. Not like some who have been dead and buried ten or eleven times because of that disease. W. P. Our country boy. Never tires talking of the first place the Lord made in the new world. He thinks the last was Govans. Some agree wih him. Fletcher H. Another of our lambs. Couldn’t look wolf-like if he tried. We dare him. See there, we knew he couldn’t. A little more chalk would have won the Latin contest, Fletcher. W. W. Brings two roses to class every day, in season and out of season. They don’t cost any more in Winter, in fact they are cheaper then. We were all sorry he lost so much time through illness. But the roses didn’t fade. J. Roche. A boy, reader, not an insect; a biped, not a centi- pede. Great baseball manager. Engineered the team through six victories out of eight chances. SECOND PREPARATORY. Preparatory Qllaoo J otra The Second Prep, class began in September, with nineteen boys, in what is now Mr. Becker’s room. The next day we were given our present class room and were joined by two more boys. For the first few days after school opened Mr. Harrison and Mr. Ellis taught us until Mr. Brown, our present teacher, took the class. About a week later one of our members left us and it wasn’t much later until we found that Oles had also left the ranks; however, after the Christmas holidays we found that Old Saint Nick had left us a present in the shape of two new members of the class, name ly Mills and Walton. During the arithmetic period every day we lose Conway, Quick and Brown who go to another room for that class, but we are pleased to say that in their places we have the follow- ing trio who come to our class for that study : Lortz, Leipold and Hisky. Mills, the smallest boy in the class, furnishes amusement for the rest of us during school hours. Merceret, the class pessimist, also drives away the dull moments by looking for- ward to some pleasure and then worrying what the evil out- come will be. Watson, our prize composition writer, is a strong and husky fellow, but he seems to use his limbs in a way which was quite a puzzle for the rest of his body to under- stand and keep up with. Campbell is also one of our sm.all members but makes up for his size by using very large words. In the class picture, reading from left to right, top row, are : Merceret, Kirby, Watson, Burns, Kerwack, Digges, Quick, Schanberger, Marcin. Middle row — Galvin, White, T., Mr. Brown, White, M., Purvis. Bottom row — Schuler, Kuzin, Wal- ton, Campbell, Mills, Brown, Bouchelle. The officers of the class are as follows: President, Burns; Manager of the Baseball Team, Quick; Captain of the Baseball Team, Digges. Conway and Quick are regular players on the Prep. Baseball Team. Wm. J. Digges. The Roland Park Company offers for sale in Guilford, on easy terms, houses and vacant lots at prices that are not only intrinsically low but that compare most favora- bly with prices in other localities, especially when the following advantages of living in Guilford are taken into consideration : Convenience of access to Business and Shopping cen- tres, to Schools and Churches, to Railroad Stations, to Places of Amusement; the street railway schedule, by the University Parkway and St. Paul Street Lines from the Guilford entrance to Calvert and Baltimore Streets, is less than twenty minutes; In Guilford, all modern City improvements and con- veniences are provided; Protective restrictions, carefully devised for the benefit of purchasers, prevent the use of property for business or for other purposes detrimental to a residential section of the best type; Many leaders, in the City’s business, professional and social circles, have already bought in Guilford, thus as- suring the most attractive surroundings for home and family life. THE ROLAND PARK COMPANY Telephone, St. Paul 1166 City Sales Office 1620 Munsey Building (A ■ m ml -Ml IS; ' :; ;| ' V m .n :;fe:‘; ' ; .s •W i .1