Seattle Pacific University - Tawashi Yearbook (Seattle, WA)

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The Cascade Then timid, I entered and seated. Amused at her business i e air; Then a voice, still familiar, beside me One McCormic , of Wall Street, was there. I had heard so many strange changes Tet dreamed not of such things as these — Was it grape juice, — no, the weather I decided And a wal ' neath the Madison Square trees. On the right stood a brilliant cathedral With chime towers and many a spire; The Reverend, I learned, was R. Thompson, JJow batching with HanMiller, Esquire. In the midst of my wanderings I lingered To gaze at a lady ' s long tresses Through a window, on which there was painted — “Mary Fos et, a Ma er of Dresses. As I tarried to greet her there entered Another I had nown in my life, Just dear little Evelyn, now serving As a prominent business man ' s wife. Again through the gay streets I journeyed, And rare things were to happen that day; For up the street came Paul Root In his usual whimsical way. In his hands were a pad and a pencil And he looked to be somewhat a sporter. Tis certain he lived up to ' s ambition, For he was a paper reporter. Well versed on affairs of the times. He spo e in allffnowmg ways — Of business, of pleasure, and of people. And friendships of past college days. Young Jffelson, who, past expectations, Lacked not in high hopes as of yore, Inspired by his music, rose higher And was boss of a second hand store. What wonders shall ever be wrought! I remember one fellow so stern, And no one would have guessed that just Dellno — Could manage a jewelry concern. Page Fifty-four

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The Cascade THE CLASS OF ’28 B EHIND the grave and dignified countenances of the Seniors of 1928 there is a smile as they take a retrospective view of the past four years. Oh, what a day when thirty young and inexperienced culprits met for the first time in the old Administration Building to organise their first class! The first president, Miss Mildred Cartwright, should be praised for her work in mastering the unconquered youth, for in those meetings, as in most freshman meetings, order was not of the best. It was interesting to notice the change in attitude of the class, for as a snowball melts in the midst of a furnace blast, so suddenly did our freshman pride vanish as we mingled and rubbed elbows with the dignified and the learned. During the second year we laid aside our childish things and strove to become students in a more real sense. How quickly the junior year did come! Upon taking inventory we found some of our members had fallen out by the wayside. Perhaps they had forgotten our motto: “Climb, though the rocks be rugged.” Now our expectations are realised and our names have been inscribed on the senior roll. But our thirst for knowledge has not yet been satisfied. We have mastered the smaller things; let us now strive for greater things! The class of ’28 is greatly indebted to the President and the faculty for their words of encouragement and their Christian example. We do not expect to stop climbing, for still we say, “We will climb though the rocks be rugged.” THE SENIOR’S DOOM 4938 Lost in a forest of buildings And confusion of the day ' s traffic stream, I came to a great intersection And crossed when the light wasn ' t green; A shrill whistle halted my footsteps On the busiest streets of Manhattan I turned in surprise to the blue ' Coat Whom I once new as young Wendell Patten. I stopped at an alley ' Street restaurant Where shop girls and laborers were eating — Oh, horrors! The girl flipping flapjac s Was no other than Miriam Keating. (over) Page Fifty-three

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The Cascade V[or that Ivan would reach a profession With invalids under his care, And Virginia and Ilia in the great city To assist in his hospital there. Ere I left I purchased a paper And set me to reading a piece Of something concerning a scandal, And Edwards, the chief of police. In silence, I walked all amazement And saw what nigh caused me to faint, For m a show window sat Ray Bishop Tinting canvas to advertise paint. A feeling of sadness passed o ' er me For the petals of time so unfurl ' d And memories of those who once new me Revealed but a new and strange world. There lost in such thoughts I stood gazing Till suddenly my wea heart turned sic ; In a street ' Wor ing crew stood old Roy Engaged with a shovel and pic . Few words he spo e, telling the fate Of others who lived by the day, Of Beatrice writing boo s, and of Warren In love still and for bread pitching hay, Of Leona whose power of dictation Had made her a teacher of school Just living, and giving, and helping Others to abide by the rule. Before closing these lines and forgetting Another, and all that ' s been said You ' ll pardon, I ' m sure, just to mention That Viable is now an old maid. So passed all the wonders and faces; Yet I m a frenzy of mind To now if I equaled the average In time still, or ten years behind. A decade has passed, just imagine, Since I scribbled these lines, and you bet, When the year ' 39 comes around I ' ll be thinking in prophecies yet. —Ralph Leise Page Fifty-five