Northwestern State University - Potpourri Yearbook (Natchitoches, LA)

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|g POTPOURRI -=m To Our Alma Mater, Loyalty By Isabel Williamson (Mrs S. J. dimming) Oh, Alma Mater here today, We for thy lasting blessings pray, We know not where our paths may go, But thou It uphold us still we f?now. Unchanging thou, ' mid changes vast, UnsWerved from ideals of the past. Steadfast and true our watchword e ' er shall be- To thee, our Alma Mater, Loyalty. Thy trees their solemn chorus blend. About thee, flowers their censers bend. Our voices swell their murmuring strain Our hearts repeat the old refrain. Thy purpose high to carry on— Oh, Normal, thou hast honor Won, Steadfast and true our watchword e ' er shall be- To thee, our Alma Mater, Loyalty. In after years, when far away, Thy presence strong will near us stay; And as the echo of our song Will, with new courage, lead us on, And to our eager vision then Each subtle memory meaning lend. Steadfast and true our watchword e ' er shall be- To thee, our Alma Mater, Loyalty. 1928

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m over the surrounding plains. Sombre pines on either bank loomed up against the crimson sky. As the evening zephyr passed through the tops of the stately branches on the summit of the bluff, it emitted a low, melancholy moan, answered now and then by a bird ' s good-night call as he hurried homeward to his anxious little ones in a dell below. Such was the afternoon when Chief Quigualtauqui and his three hundred Chetimachas warriors returned from a glorious chase in the far region of the friendly Comanches. Don Fernando was moody for awhile. Early on the morrow he was leaving this dreamy, solitary land. He was going to bid Quigualtauqui and the beautiful Princess Ccfachiqui adieu. The shy, graceful manner, the sprightly step, and the large shining eyes of that queen of the wilds had often given him sorrow and joy, for they brought back the image of his own patient Juanita, waiting for him ' neath the sunny skies of Spain. After the evening meal of venison and broiled fish, all sat around the fire and smoked the pipe of peace. The sable goddess threw a pale shadowy light on the orators as each in turn rose to deliver his promise of friendship and faithfulness. When Tchioumaqui ' s turn came, Don Fernando noticed a strange gleam in his eyes. The profuseness of his language and a seeming hollowness of tone could not but arouse the paleface ' s suspicion. The Spaniard rose to leave. The good luck wishes were exchanged around the circle; but Princess Cofachiqui and Tchiou- maqui ' s places were acant. The Don thought little of the absence of the brave, but he longed to see again the sylvan beauty. f P TP V Don Fernando stooped to cut the fibre which held his boat. The snap of a twig broke the stillness. A shadow darted from behind a tree. The nobleman asked a little anxiously, Tachte cabanacet? ( Is it thou? ) As the soft tremuous Manatte (Yes) was breathed, the figure stepped before him. In homage to this dryad of the mournful pines, the Castilian lord kissed Cofachiqui with the respect due his own Empress. As Cofachiqui turned away with a sad, longing heart from the retreating craft lightly drifting with the current, the gleam of fiery eyes, aglow with hatred and jealousy riveted her to the spot. The flash of a conchas lately stained in the chase, filled her with terror. Up the hill she flew, sparks flying from her feet. Slowly but surely Tchioumaqui gained upon his prey. Don Fernando climbed quietly over the stern of Las Flores. Turning, to imprint in his memory one lasting image of that weird, moonbathed land, he stood spellbound. The figure of a woman stood on the top of the bluff, dangerously near the edge. A brave was advancing quickly toward her. The warrior skill- fully brandished his conchas, its smooth surface glistening in the white light. The weapon was poised in the air for a moment, but before it could descend, a shrill, despairing cry rose to the heavens, echoed and re-echoed down the glens. The wcman leaped into the air, fell down, down; struck the water with a heavy splash, and was received into the bosom of the river. As the Las Flores glided down the stream the gentle ecstatic motion of the waves told her that the spirits of the water were holding a revelry over their newly found queen. ! ' 1928

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n 1 1 : : ' ■ ■: ' S -j!j i,v ' Oh, Alma Mater here today, We for thy lasting blessings pray.