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

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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

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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)

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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)