Marywood Academy - Veritas Yearbook (Grand Rapids, MI)

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X' if R I 'I' A S A SPRING REVERIE A soft, drowsy whistle, and then a throbbing, melodious song colored with the whole earnest soul of the tiny feathered songster burst forth upon the clear air. Gentle breezes, like angels' breath tenderly kiss the sleeping buttercups, and gently open the chalices of molten gold, so lately closed in peaceful repose. Tiny lambs frolic to and fro on the verdant meadows. The bubbling laughter of the cool, sparkling brooklet awakens another member of this rustic society, and Jack curls out his leaves and ascends to his pulpit. Far above his head, faint tints of azure softly merge into purple and along the horizon, a ruddy glow lights the heavens. Slowly the rose- crowned Goddess of Dawn is lifting the heavy mantle of darkness and the sun's fiery steeds foaming and bristling dart forth with the jewel-studded chariot of Apollo. Here I am enjoying one of the most beautiful sights of nature,-but did I say Apollo? Yes. New visions arise before me. I seem to stand upon the Capitoline Hill in sunny Italy. Above me are olive groves laden with choicest fruits. I tear myself away from all this beauty, and in the distance I behold Rome in all its glory. The Forum is dese1'ted, except for a few merchants, but to me it is peopled with throngs, arrayed in togas, speaking, selling, trading, Caesar and Cicero bowing to the expectant people. Farther on are the famous Baths, resplendent in luxury, and as my eye travels onward I behold the Coliseum. That vast structure is now crumbling ruins but in my glowing imagination it is crowded with Romans spell-bound by some gladiatorial feat or gazing with blood-thirsty eyes upon the dying martyrs. The Christians to the Lions -rings on the clear air, and there with eyes raised toward heaven those valiant heroes of Christ meet their death. Again it is a chariot race, stupendous, spectacular, glowing with interest and excitement. Then, as I turn my gaze farther I behold the Appian VVay, the Claudian Aqueduct and the other marvels of the Ancient World, and of Rome, the city of the seven hills. VVhat thoughts they bring to my mind. What hours I could spend in contemplation! But alas! I find myself at a little American countryside brought back to stern reality. --EUGENIA SCHMITZ, '27. MY FAVORITE CHARACTER I believe I have found my favorite character in a book just recently read. The book was The Crisis and the character-Stephen Brice. He is to my mind, truly an ideal. A man of principle, possessing those sterling qualities that make up the char- acter of a true gentleman. Not a too-good-to-be-true character that is hardly ever found, but an honest-to-goodness one that occasionally one meets in his everyday life. Loyalty to God and country, fine feeling of fellowship and respect for womanhood are among the most prominent of his characteristics. Accompanying these we find a delightful, tingling sense of humor. Never once does a shadow of fear cross the reader's mind that he will show the least streak of cowardice. Whenever he steps into the chapter you feel as though you are reading something worth while. And I attribute all these qualities and virtues to the fact that he set up his ideal and with steadfast determination gradually perfected his character towards that ideal, none other than our own Abraham Ilincoln. --LOYOLA KIRCHHOFF, '27. 1926 at Pug Thirty nine

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Y li R I 'I' A S f'The hut contained only one large room, rudely furnished. What impressed me most was its cleanliness. Therein did this differ from the other hflexican huts. I sat down and she prepared the food, quietly, but efficiently. Still, no word escaped her compressed lips. What motive had prompted her finally to allow my entrance? VVhile I hungrily ate, she kept her steady eyes upon me. At last, my hunger was satisfied, my thirst was quenched. Looking up, I noticed that her lips parted two or three times as if to speak, and quickly snapped together again. Something bothered her and she felt she must, for her own peace of mind, tell someone. At last she made a final effort, and to my astonished ears came forth this story: Less than a year ago another weary prospector had stopped at that very door. She had allowed his entrance with abso- lutely no hesitation. Her husband had come out to make the greeting even more gracious. The man hungrily had devoured the food and unsatisfied with this, had asked for a large quantity of money. Her husband refused this request and the man, half crazed by his wanderings, engaged in a fight with her husband, finally killing him. Since then she had dwelt there alone, distrusting everyone. All were turned from her door. Yet, she said, something in my condition rekindled a spark of pity in her and she sought signs of unfaithfulness in my countenance. Something told her that all men were not unfaithful to a trust and she took the chance. Now, concluded Mr. Jones, as men Will, had it not been for the chance that woman took I should not be here to tell you this story tonight. -H ELEN IVICKENNA, '26. KING HENRY THE FIFTH King Henry the Fifth, with whom we became so intimately acquainted in Henry the Fourth as the jolly good--for-nothing, foppish Prince Hal, now appears to us as the majestic, powerful, and royal sovereign. He is what we call a developing character. To prove this fact we must review his youth as does the Archbishop of Canterbury in the opening scene of King Henry the Fifth. Hal, the Prince of VVales and heir apparent to the throne of England, was a mis- chievous but honorable young man. We see him exchanging jokes, punning Words, and coining names with old Falstaff. Yes, it is he who goes on the robbing expedition, and he who is found joking in the tavern. Do we admire such a man? Certainly we do not admire his associates and their questionable habits, yet it is his own will power that keeps him from drinking, rectifies the thieving and makes good the debts of his friend. Is not this the test? Then as suddenly as a butterfly emerges from the Chrysalis, we see him rise from that life, lead a vast army, and Hnally kill Harry Hotspur. After the death of his father, we recognize that same jovial Hal, reluctantly assuming the responsibility of the crown, debating in commercial affairs, discoursing of war and fearful battles as if that had been his study. Now we see him carrying the affairs of his kingdom. He is business-like and blunt, allowing no time for trifling with his courtiers. He is determined in his treat- ment of the Dauphin and holds to his opinion regarding the seizure of lands. He is self-reliant and independent. He respected the opinions of the Lords merely through policy, as he always used his own judgment in settling any matters of importance. We admire him now and realize his greatness, while before we were apt to appre- ciate him more for his wit. -EIQGENIA SCHMITZ, y27. 1 9 2 6-I I Inge I'l1uly eight

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v 1 r X ss 1 I 111111 A s 5 . 1l li 1: .1 I 1 i ,A A THE CHARACTER IN FICTION VVHICH I LIKE BEST There are a great many characters in the vast world of literature, interesting, admirable, enticing, but the one which most impressed me, and which I will always remember, is l3assonio's Portia. Perhaps it was because I was a Freshman. High school seemed to me the most wonderful thing one could imagine, and when finally we studied a Shakespearian play, I was entranced. Through the whole Merchant of Venice, Portia was my idol. I admired her clever- ness, her conformity to her father's wishes, her leadership, and most of all her masterful 1 action in the court scene. I-ler pleading with Shylock, her own self reliance, her C011- ' fidence in womanly persuasion, and the using of the quibble only as a last resort all impressed me. Yes, that quibble in itself was a charm. Was not she to be admired as she slowly advanced to the prostrate Antonio before his ruthless murderer? VVith her noble head elevated, and with a look of triumph yet of pity in her eye, could anyone but idolize her? - Yet the lwercy Speech more than any other affected me. lllemorizing that was indeed a joy, but hearing it given, as I afterward did in the play was the greatest Q pleasure. 1 I also enjoyed her clever management of the ring affair, and heartily laughed at 1 poor l3assonio's chagrin. ' I did not treat her as a great Shakespearian critic. To me she embodied all that was noble, beautiful and womanly, in a word all that an ideal should possess. I have now read other plays of Shakespeare, I have read poems, novels and romances, but Portia in The fllerrlzant of Vmzirc will always be that lasting idol which I once, as a little Freshman, worshipped. --EUGENIA SCHMITZ, ,27. DESCRIPFI IVE SKI: l CHES 13, -xi- fil A RISING ACTION . A heavy, drowsy stupor spreading over the whole body enveloping it in a thick veil -of semi-consciousness, a faint realization that all is not as it should be, but still an E utter inability to compel the mind to fathom the enigma, a desire to drown the thought of work and worry in delicious forgetfulness-these terminate in the woeful coming of .ll that voice of doom which sounds ominously and pitilessly from the foot of the stairs- df Get up! It's seven o'clock. , -IVIARY MILLER, '26. 251 an as ea eil DAVID COPPERFIELD Because he is not too good, too ideal to be true, because he has the weaknesses and faults of the average human being and because he is not too far above us to make us feel a fraternal affection for him, David Copperfield has always been, is, and always Q 1 will be my favorite character in fiction. I have never been able to sympathize with 1 these hopelessly perfect people who are flung at us mercilessly by the majority of authors. They give me an inferiority complex. People think that this book is long drawn out, gl but I do not find it so. I lived this through, and loved it well enough to read it again and again- -BLANCHE LE PAGE, ,27. il til 51.111 .14 1 L 1 9 2 6 1 ' 5 Page F any