Seattle University - Aegis Yearbook (Seattle, WA)

Text from Pages 1 - 200 of the 1914 volume:

duller Annual JUNE NINETEEN■FOURTEEN Pr a of Siirrman Printing Binding Co. Skattijc, U. S. A. ipiiirattmt TO OUR REVERED AND WELL-BELOVED BISHOP. THE RIGHT REVEREND EDWARD J. 0 DEA. D. D.. THIS ANNUAL, A TOKEN OF LOVE AND GRATITUDE. IS HUMBLY DEDICATED I � CONTENTS Page Foreword—Cyril Peeremboom, ’15............................... 7 College Song ................................................ 9 Educational Morality—John F. Dougherty, ’15................. 10 Canon Patrick Sheehan, D. D.—Leonard J. Reilly, ’16......... 14 Our Cathedral—John F. Dougherty, '15........................ 18 Billy “Racer”—Jerome R. Kelly, 4th High..................... 19 The Aftermath—Robert J. Neilan, 4th High.................... 24 Vision of Sir Launfal—Arthur J. Schichtl, 3rd High.......... 30 Transformism—Cyril Peeremboom, ’15......................... 33 Lake Washington—James E. McAteer, ’17....................... 39 Getting Her Goat—Robert J. Neilan, 4th High................. 40 Robbing the Overland Mail in 1920—Lester B. Schorn, ’16..... 43 Sunset on Elliott Bay—John F. Dougherty, ’15................ 48 The Blessed Virgin in Non-Catholic Writers—Mark H. Hannan, 4th High ................................................... 49 The Rime of the Ancient Mariner—Louis B. Buty, 3rd High..... 54 A Perfect White—Roger J. Coughlin, ’17...................... 59 Dante Interviews the Junior Class—Cyril A. Peeremboom, ’15.. 67 Father Angelo—Edawrd S. Hastings, 2nd High.................. 70 The Gold-Seeker—Raymond L. Beezer, ’17...................... 73 The Influence of the Press—Claude W. Mullen, ’14............ 74 The Unknown to Man—Roger J. Coughlin, ’17................... 80 The Church and Science—William P. O'Connell, ’14............ 81 A Graduate’s Dream—John C. Carroll, 4th High................ 86 The Correct Solution—Arnold R. Beezer, 1st High............. 89 The Phantom Catch—Mark H. Hannan, 4th High.................. 97 A One-Sided Conversation—Jerome R. Kelly, 4th High.......... 99 The Need and Necessity of a Classical Education............ 102 In Mcmoriam—Gerald P. Beezer, ’17.......................... 106 Pioneer Experiences—Stephen C. Crowley, 3rd High........ 107 A Stinging Rebuke to Ministerial Bigots—Jerome R. Kelly, 4th High 110 Gettysburg, 1863-1913—Thomas G. Earles, '17............... 113 College Chronicle .......................................... 117 Class Chronicle ............................................ 125 Athletics .................................................. 141 Stemtiorft Some few years ago the students of the various classes at Seattle College bound together in manuscript copy their best productions of the school year, and owing to the abundance and the quality of material they decided to issue at the close of the scholastic year the first College Annual. Why the publication was discontinued in subsequent years, we are not able to ascertain. At the urgent request of many interested in our college work, we undertake the task of producing a like publication. It was, besides, the sincere expressions of encouragement from the faculty and the faithful co-operation of the literary talent of the college, that enabled us to see the enterprise progress, and so we now venture to present in a more elaborate form than before the “Seattle College Annual.” The advantages and utility of the college magazine can hardly be questioned; it affords an exceptional opportunity for those so inclined to become, to a certain extent, familiar with the technique of literary work; it unites the student body in a closer bond of acquaintance, and it gives the individual the means of retaining bright and clear in mind, scenes and occurences of his college days. Practically every college and university of creditable size has either its monthly or its annual magazine; some still larger produce a daily paper, and in all but a very few cases, the same is an undoubted success. There were, of course, many difficulties to be overcome; a great many believed that the Annual would not become a reality, or rather they “doubted.” Thus there was among those to do the work no little hesitation; it was all new and strange. Just what to do and how to go about it, were important and undecided questions. But with what late start we had, with all the difficulties arising from the novelty of the thing, and with many another significant obstacle, the Annual is now completed and a more optimistic spirit prevails, so that there is serious and hopeful talk of making it an annual affair—of publishing it yearly. And there is no reason why it should not be so. The Annual this year has its defects, many of them, no doubt. They are due, as just said, to the late start, and our inexperience. The Annual is intended for the friends of the College, parents4and relatives of the boys that attend it; and should some one with a more critical mind chance upon something in it not to his liking, we trust he will remember and excuse us on the a{presaid grounds. Its success, its good points are all to be attributed to the persevering and untiring efforts of the members of the Faculty in charge of it and to the generous collaborators. It is our fond hope that in issuing the “Seattle College Annual” we shall please our parents and friends, the Alumni and present students of the. College. CYRIL PEEREMBOOM, ’15. REV. CHARLES F. CARROLL, S. J. President of Seattle College battle (Eolkge THERE’S a land where the sun throws his last parting rays, On a thousand green islands and bright gleaming bays, Sheds his last parting smile, ere he sinks to his rest, On glorious Seattle, the Queen of the West. Here science has set her fierce fires aflame. And built her a home in this temple of fame. Gee-hee. boys, gee-hah, and gee-hee and gee-hah, Hurrah for our College, hurrah, boys, hurrah! Here the monsters of oceans set gallantly forth For the wealth of the East and the gold of the North. Hither loud throbbing engines and proud swelling sails Bear the tribute of nations through billows and gales; Here the last waves of Empire have rolled to the West, And knowledge and sport find their haven of rest. Gee-hee, boys, gee-hah, and gee-hee and gee-hah, Hurrah for our College, hurrah, boys, hurrah! We shall build us our homes where our fathers before From wave, mountain and forest have wrested their store. For their blood in our veins like a swift flowing fire Makes our hearts thrill with hope that shall never expire. But never forget we were nursed at the breast Of our own Alma Mater, the pride of the W est. Gee-hee. boys, gee-hah, and gee-hee and gee-hah, Hurrah for our College, hurrah, boys, hurrah! iEfturatimtal HJnralittJ HE object of education is the harmonious development of the whole man: The development of intellect, will and body. Yet the will needs training more than the intellect, and our higher institutions of learning ought not neglect the furtherance of this most important part of the work of education. It cannot be gainsaid that the emphasis laid upon moral training forms the most marked distinction between the true educator and the mere instructor. At the same time it is one of the most disquieting features of our age that §o many teachers of the higher schools have lost sight of this fundamental principle of education. It appears that both in Europe and America all idea of looking after the character of the students has been laid aside. The inevitable consequence of this plan must be a decline of morality among the rising generation, or to express it more mildly, and to employ the words of some writers, a lamentable disproportion between intellectual and moral progress. The existence of this disproportion is attested, first through the language of men of great educational ability when they say that our educational system is deplorable as regards morality; secondly, through the disappointment of even the boldest optimist when he seeks for moral growth. Indeed criminologists, and some publicists point to indications of moral decline in our leading institutions. The increasing number of divorces, the increasing number of dependent children along with the increasing club-life of men and women are cited as results of the decline of the moral sense of responsibility in our school rooms. The alarming increase in the number of suicides and murders indicates a gradual decline in the safety of human life and in the feeling of its sacredness. The growing extent of robbery and commitments for crime against property reveals either a lack of morality or rampant greed. The increasing expenditure for intoxicating beverages indicates the growing power of desire for mere stimulation of the nervous EDUCAT10NAL MORA LITY 11 system; and animal gratification shows a decline of man back to the moral standard of the pagan ages. It has frequently been observed that the spirit of our age manifests many pagan tendencies. The utilitarian trend of morality in modern education is undoubtedly a sort of neo-paganism. To the artistic, the wonder-loving mind of the Greek, “the Beautiful” and “the Good,” were almost synonimous. Greek education, accordingly, aimed at the harmonious development of body and intellect for life in this world only. In the eyes of the Romans, the eternal city was destined to rule the universe. To make useful and devoted members of that mighty political fabric was the sole aim of the learning given the Roman youth, such also apparently is the purpose of the instructions in our public educational system of today. These points touch the sore spot of modern education. The capital error of most school reformers lies in this that they expect too much from intellectual accomplishments for the moral and social improvement of mankind. Every other word they utter is, Culture, Knowledge, Science, Information, and yet what is still more needed is a reform of Character by a thorough training of the will. The plausible assertion “Instruction is moral improvement,” a principle which is repeated in various forms, is false. The neglect of religious and moral training is the outcome of a false philosophy; for, there exists the most intimate relations between philosophy and pedagogy, so much so that erratic philosophy leads to a false pedagogy. Pedagogy according to the very derivation of the word means the guiding of children; but in order to guide them properly it is necessary to know properly and clearly the end and goal to be reached. The final destiny of man can be known only from his true nature and this knowledge is furnished by philosophy. The philosophy, then, which is to be the sound basis of noble pedagogy must correctly answer the questions: Whence and Whither? If as the foundation of education a philosophy is chosen which gives a wrong answer to these momentous questions, the children will be led in a wrong direction. Now that philosophy which considers man merely a highly developed 12 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL animal, which sees in the human mind nothing but another “aspect” or “phase” of the animal organism, and consequently denies the spirituality and immortality of the soul, such despicable philosophy cannot assign any other end and object of man's life than some form of hedonism or utilitarianism. Unfortunately such philosophy has exerted a disastrous influence on many modern educational theories. It has led to the separation, more or less complete, of education from religion, but a solid moral training is totally impossible without religion. There is only one system of philosophy which can form the sound basis of true pedagogy and that is genuine Christian philosophy, that philosophy which is in perfect harmony with the revealed truths of Christianity. This philosophy alone gives the correct answers to the questions, Whence and Whither? It tells us that the soul of the child is a spirit, created by a personal God to His own image and likeness, and destined for eternal happiness in heaven; it tells us that this life is not man’s goal, but a journey to another, higher life, that “we have not here a perpetual city but that we seek one that is to come.” A system of pedagogy firmly based on this solid Christian philosophy will widely differ from those systems which are built upon modern philosophy, be it German Pantheism, French Positivism, or English and American Agnosticism. The most essential difference will be this, that in the Christian system the intellectual training is considered secondary to the moral and religious training whereas all other systems aim at purely secular learning to the utter neglect of moral training. Down through the long avenues of the Christian ages, the Catholic Church has guided men onward and upward in the highway of progress bv the light of the Gospel of Christ; she has taught him that the grace and the beauty and the honor of life lie in its conformity with the eternal laws of God; and she has protected and strengthened and developed the civilization which she founded by the combined forces of religion and intellectual enlightenment. With the experience of ages before her, she insists today that religion and secular learning must go hand in hand in the work of education, if we are to safeguard the most vital inter- 13 EDUCATIONAL MORALITY ests of society. And notwithstanding the records of antiquity, history bears eloquent evidence of the sagacity of her educational policy. Let us hope that this broad nation of ours, great in accomplishments, great in the prospect of a still more glorious future, will harken to the eloquent voice of the august teacher of ( hristendom and secure the favors and blessings, of a true democracy for the generations yet to come, by freely bestowing on every child the advantages of a Christian education. 'file Church and the home should enforce the work of the school, but the class room which rules by far the greater part of the child’s active mental life is the only channel to which we must look for that moral and intellectual enlightenment, that supremeness of design and that loyalty to duty which should characterize the American citizen, and which religious education alone can bring forth. As long as our educational system forgets the soul in trying to perfect mind and body, crime will increase, for where there is no God, there is no conscience. Xor can educators afford to forget that “when Christ our Master comes for the final examination he will not ask how well we spoke and disputed, but how we lived,” “Xon quid legimus, sed quid fecimus, non quam bene diximus, sed quam religiose viximus.” JOHN F. DOUGHERTY, ’15. (Eamm flatrirk £ ljpH)ait, 0.0. X the death of Canon Sheehan Ireland has lost one of her greatest and most loyal sons. His life and work were typical of the true spirit which binds together in one most sacred brotherhood, all whether priests or laity who belong to the spiritual body of Christ, the Church. He was the possessor of a great mind, world-famed, yet in the simple village of Doneraille no child was unknown to him and every little face brightened as it saw the parish priest coming along the road, or in the school room, when each day he came to bid the children welcome. Nor were the poor unknown to him, for every one came with his sorrows to Canon Sheehan as to a true priest, a wise and most generous friend. It is related by the late Canon’s own bishop, that the deceased priest had arranged with him for the distribution amongst the poor of all the profits from his literary works. But Canon Sheehan's great literary power was fully on a par with his piety and remarkable devotion to his priestly duties. His contributions to literature were many and great, and consist principally of Irish characters. Among the many who have written on Ireland and her people Canon Sheehan stands in a class apart. He entered into the feelings of the people and sounded the utmost depths of the Irish heart. “He was of their very own, kindly Irish of the Irish. His faith was their faith, his inspiration was their inspiration, his aim was their aim, while his land was their land.” He believed in the written word and hence he wrote. His voice could reach but a few in his little village of Doneraille; he could reach thousands with his pen. The ideal which Canon Sheehan cultivated all through his literary career and to which his pen was true to the end is ably stated in the following words: “Our fiction, our poetry, our drama and our art must be above all things pure; a Catholic writer would rather put his right hand into the fire than write much that passes for art and literature in our days.” 15 CAN09 PATRICK SHEEHAN, D. DC In an address to the Catholic Truth Society of Ireland, Canon Sheehan states the position of the Catholic writer in the following words: “The Catholic writer must write in the solemn, majestic presence of truth which he has learned to love and revere all his life, and if tempted by avarice or a desire of fame, to ignore or forget her, then there stands by that eternal monitor, Conscience, to rebuke and remind him that he must write as from his death-bed and leave no line that he should wish to blot.” Canon Sheehan published many excellent works. His first novels were “Geoffrey Austin,” and “My Xew Curate.” The tribute that Canon Barry pays to “The Triumph of Failure,” the book that won an international reputation for Canon Sheehan, as an author, is true of most of his literary works. “With learning in plenty, secular and sacred, with flashes and gleams undoubtedly of genius; in a language always touching, of an eloquent style in the austere mood, Celtic and none other, that seemed to be falling out of a world not worthy of it.” The Catholic priest has been misrepresented in many works of fiction, but in ‘My New Curate we have genuine types of the priest in the ordinary routine of his ministry. Thus the old pastor in his story of “Daddy Dan has done much to break down the walls of prejudice by giving us these priestly characters of his facile pen. “Luke Delmege, which appeared later was also a remarkable book. “Under the Cedars and Stars” and “Perarga” its companion were published in 1903. Canon Sheehan’s next publication was “Glenanaar, a novel which portrays Irish life. This was followed by “Lisheen.” Father Sheehan wrote many essays and lectures most of which are contained in his book entitled “Farly Essays and Lectures, of which he writes himself: “I have selected these short essays froln several magazines, some of more ancient, some of more modern date.” The “Intellectuals,” published in 1911 are reveries and sketches dealing with the modern problems of Irish life. In “The Blindness of Dr. Grey,” we find that the Canon's reputation as a novelist is well sustained. “It was our privilege.” says a reviewer, to receive a personal letter of appreciation for our review of his last published work 16 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNWAL ‘Miriam Lucas,’ and we then expressed the hope that it might be our pleasant duty to review many more volumes from the holy place of Catholic and Irish letters—the quiet study at Doneraille.” Canon Sheehan had a message for his beloved Irish and for the world at large. He knew that many would misinterpret his motive, that much criticism would be passed upon him, but that way lay the pass of duty and he never hesitated about the choice. Thus he wrote to one of his friend priests a few days before he answered the summons of death: You are right in thinking that the profession of letters is a thankless one; and which is more strange is that our Catholic papers and magazines are constantly clamoring for Catholic writers, and then holding their very best authors up to scorn. But I have a conviction that any writer who is conscious of having something to say to the world, must utter the word that is in him regardless of its consequences to himself. I do not know of any writer who has passed through life unscathed. There always will be some small natures whose delight is destruction. “ Tis sad but true that the world is slow in recognizing true genius and prefers to place garlands on the tombstones, rather than on the living brows of deserving authors.” It was however the knowledge of the generous and cordial reception accorded to his writings by the clergy and particularly by the priests of America that cheered Father Sheehan in the continuation of his literary pursuit. He was a sufferer from ill health from the time of his student’s days, and while this drawback hardly interfered with his pastoral duties, he found in his literary works the relief he needed. And now to think that the gifted pen is laid aside forever! With sorrow as for a beloved friend we mourn his death ! Confronted as we are by the poisonous literature of the age and realizing that there is a broad field for the Catholic writer, unploughed, untilled, the query may be made whether the literary career is one to be selected or recommended to the student. Father Sheehan has pointed out the fact that while great work has been done by Catholic writers to promote a more extensive Catholic literature, greater work remains to be accomplished. CANON PATRICK SHEEHAN, D. D. 17 The church in America having accomplished its great material work in church building, school endowments, etc., is turning its attention more to the intellectual demands of the age. Great cities have their Catholic reading circles; lectures are delivered daily by priests and laymen in some department or other of science or literature. While it may not be the vocation of all of us to join the ranks of our Catholic writers yet in a special manner we have a mission to fulfill as regards our Catholic literature, to aid at least in its diffusion, and the first step toward its expansion in others is by acquiring a taste for it ourselves. “Acquire a taste for literature,” says Canon Sheehan, “I mean for high class literature. I do not mean the unclean gutter literature of Babylon. Acquire a taste for literature and you have a charm against all evil troubles; vexations, disappointments that are incident to our condition here can be defied because forgotten, by going out from our midst for a while into the new world that the philosopher or socialist, the historian or the novelist will show you. And insensibly you will become better and wiser men. Read and read, and every moment you read your mind is developing and expanding and becoming illuminated, until by degrees you see yourself becoming wiser, more thoughtful, truer-minded, better men, with greater confidence in yourselves, and trusted more by others.” LEONARD J. REILLY, ’17. GDitr (natural O temple pure, that stands in crystal air, Above the smoke and clamor of the town; Thy tall, majestic spires serenely wear Redemption’s cross, religion’s brightest crown. Though slanderous breath of calumny and spite Attaint thy calm and placid atmosphere, Yet from thy domes, from sunrise into night, Thou hast for man a message sweet and dear. Thou stand’st an emblem of the sacred law Of Christian love unstained of selfish rust; In thee the souls of men are filled with awe, And in thy sacred guidance learn to trust. The wayward sinner seeks thy sacred air To stem the flood of God’s avenging wrath; The wearied prodigal here seeks thy care, When sin and dissipation’s dimmed his path. A loving friend thou art to free and slave, And youth and age seek peace within thy shrine; The saint and sinner here do humbly crave Beneath thy roof the mysteries divine. O purest dome, more clear than Alpine snow, Thy beauty is as Heaven’s brightest star, As angel choirs, whose sweet cadences throw A healing balm upon the hills afar. Thy glory won, St. James, remains e'en now, A thousand years of sanctity are thine; Crusaders, martyrs, sages, kings endow With lasting memories thy gloried shrines. O God of Truth, who rules our temple here, Forbid that we who in thy temple are, Should lose thy faith, or by base human fear, Or foul deceit, our Savior's temple mar. JOHN F. DOUGHERTY, ’15. Cssc djunm Libert CLASS OF PHILOSOPHY AND SCIKXCIOS lilly “Earn ” A RELY eight clays intervened before the date set for the big motorcycle races when Brian Pen-field, who had been trying out a new and powerful twin cylinder machine, met with a serious accident on the Tacoma speedway while rounding a curve at a little over eighty miles an hour. A hasty examination at the hospital showed his most serious hurt to be a compound fracture of the left leg. The moment he regained consciousness he asked the doctor if he would be able to ride in the races and upon receiving a negative answer, fell back on the pillows with a groan. Brian's desire to ride in the coming races was not based on a love of glory. He had obtained the general agency for the Royal motorcycle in his city and the success or failure of his business depended on his winning the ten mile open event in the races. The Royal was a new and comparatively untried machine and Brian was well aware of the fact that unless he made a record for the machine during the races, all the trade would go to his rival, a man named Coughlin, who was handling a well known and popular machine. As Brian lay groaning on his little cot at the hospital, he saw all his happy hopes vanishing before the clouds of his present misfortune. His gloomy reflections were suddenly interrupted by the entrance of his young brother Billy who, as was only natural, was soon busily engaged in discussing the chances of the Royal in the now fast approaching races. Every possible person who might be able to handle the machine was discussed by the two brothers but all were given up as hopeless. Suddenly a great idea broke over the active mind of the younger boy. “Say! he exclaimed, “why couldn’t and then checked himself just as suddenly. “Why couldn't what? demanded his brother. “O, nothing, was Billy’s lame answer. “I just thought I had an idea but it wasn’t worth speaking of. 20 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL The bright idea that had so suddenly come to Billy’s mind was none other than this: lie would ride the big Royal racer in the place of his brother next Saturday. To be sure he was only sixteen years old and had never ridden in a race in his life but still he had his full share of native American pluck and the more he thought on the subject, the better it looked to him. 1 lastily bidding good-bye to his somewhat perplexed brother he rushed off to the motorcycle shop to confide his plans to his brother’s big Irish mechanic, Mike. Say, Mike,” he announced as he entered, “I’m going to ride in the race myself next Saturday.” The Irishman looked at him shrewdly. And what does your brither say to it, me boy?” he asked. Brian won’t know anything about it till after the race,” was Billy’s answer. “I’ve got to do it for Brian’s sake and you’re going to help me. Mike passed a bit of very greasy waste over his brow in his absent-minded perplexity, thereby decorating his kindly face with a highly ornamental streak of black. Sure, he muttered doubtfully, And I don’t know what to say at all, at all.” Then forget it and don’t say anything,” laughed Bob, and now come out on the track and time me while I take a spin over the big saucer. Fritz will mind the shop,” pointing to a yellowhaired youth who was repairing tires nearby. Quickly the two wheeled their machines out into the street and started for the speedway. The machine which Billy rode and which was the one he intended to ride in the races was certainly far from being beautiful but was just as certainly built for speed. The long, rakish handlebars, conspicuous on a regular motorcycle were absent, short, wide ones being fitted instead. To reduce weight, the machine had been stripped of all mudguards and the seat was merely an ordinary springless bicycle saddle. Furthermore, the machine had no muffler, the exhaust from the big cylinders coming out of the two short pipes with pistol-like reports. Without any doubt. Billy’s machine was a thing of speed and to its young rider a joy forever.” BILLY—“RACER” 21 For about half an hour Billy raced around the track, trying various speeds and different ways of managing the machine and then calling out to Mike to time him, while he went once more around. He opened the throttle still wider and flattened himself down over the gasoline tank as if for the final spurt. Never in his life had he traveled so fast. Everything became indistinct, whirling past him in a vague black blotch, and yet he knew that the machine beneath him was far from wide open. In almost no time he had rounded the big track, and flushed and panting from the exercise, drew up before Mike to learn his time. “Mow'd it go Mike?” he asked. “Ye’ll do me boy; ye’ll do,” the Irishman assured him with a grin. “Whether I’m doin’ right to let you try it, I dunno, but ye’ve got the makins of a foine racer.” “What was the time,” impatiently interrupted Billy. “Fifty flat, but, ye’ve got to do a heap better than that. Tom Coughlin was after doin’ the mile in forty-four and three-fifths yisterday.” Tom Coughlin was the son of Brian’s business competitor. That evening Billy went around to see his brother, and told him that he had found a racer. To all his brother’s inquiries concerning the identity of the new racer lie vouched no answer and his brother being unable to do anything was forced to content himself with the hope that the mysterious rider would make good. At last the eventful Saturday arrived. Everything was in readiness. Billy had worked hard and Mike no less so. The big machine, thanks to the Irishman’s loving care, was tuned up to the last notch of efficiency. By two o’clock the great grandstand was filled with a large and enthusiastic crowd. It was rumored that Brian’s “kid brother” was to ride the Royal in the big event of the day and everybody was accordingly of the opinion that Coughlin would have no opposition. 22 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL Several minor races were run off and then at last, six chugging machines lined up for the last and the big event of the day, the “ten mile open. The pistol cracked and a chorus of pistol shots rang out in answer as the six sputtering machines swept down the track in a bunch. Billy singled out Coughlin, the only rival he really feared, and stuck to him like a burr. On they went, Coughlin in the lead, Billy a bare half length behind, and the others twenty feet in the rear. Slowly Coughlin increased his pace. For three laps the machines remained in comparatively the same positions, Billy keeping his position with ease though the speed was constantly increasing. Suddenly he heard the roaring of two other machines, one on each side. Quick as a flash, he saw what that meant. Coughlin had plotted with the two other riders to “box up” the Royal if it proved dangerous. Realizing the necessity of prompt action, Billy, with a jerk of his wrist, opened the throttle wider than ever before. In a moment he had flashed by Coughlin but in a moment Coughlin, who still had some reserve power, once more took the lead. The machines were again in their first positions. The race, contrary to expectation, was many removes from a tame event. The great crowd was now all on Billy’s side and cheered him wildly every time he flashed past the grandstand. “The kid’s riding a great race, was the comment of one onlooker, “but he can’t quite hold Coughlin. His machine hasn’t got it in her.” But the speaker did not know what Billy knew, that the good old Royal had never yet done her best. For the eighth time they whizzed past the stand. It was a rush and a roar, a fleeting glimpse of two determined figures crouched low over the tanks and they were gone. Such speed had never before been seen on the Tacoma track, and the crowd was wild with excitement. Now they had begun the last mile. Billy, his heart thumping as if to rival his engine, slowly opened the throttle to BILLY—“RACER” 23 its limit. The machine was now wide open. Foot by foot Billy crawled up on his opponent, while the crowd leaped to its feet the better to see the thrilling finish. Now they were even; now the Royal was ten feet ahead; now twenty—forty and still increasing the lead. Down the home stretch it swept, a rushing, roaring tornado. And as Billy flashed across the line, Coughlin hopelessly in the rear, the mighty roar of his winning engine was drowned in a deafening thunder of wild applause. The future of the Royal was assured and Billy beamed with the happiness of victory. JEROME R. KELLY, 4th High. Stye Aftermath i. HE day was drawing to a close. The sun was setting over the western hills, bathing them in its golden light. Black, massy clouds had begun to gather in the evening, but the sun beat back the clouds. The gold deepened into an awful red, and the red passed into shades of violet and green beyond the painter’s hand or the imagination of man. When the sun sank behind the hills; there came from afar off a low, prolonged, and menacing rumble of thunder. It died away and then sounded again but louder. The black clouds began to advance as if at a signal. The heavens were obscured, not a rift of blue could be seen and darkness was descending over the land. The storm now burst with tremendous fury and seemed by its terrific convulsions to threaten the very foundations of the earth. From the depths of a cavern came the wail of the wind, gradually increasing in volume until at length with a deafening roar it passed on into the darkness beyond. It lightened furiously; snaky lightning, rinkling lightning, lightning such that the whole tent of heaven was torn by fierce fires. Suddenly above the fury of the tempest and the raging of the wind a human voice rises in tones shrill and discordant. It is a wild, despairing cry, like the wail of a lost soul. As the whole landscape burst into incandescence, it discloses the figure of a man struggling painfully and laboriously up the hill against the full fury of the storm. What errand could bring him to such a place and upon such a night? As he draws near, a flash of lightning reveals his features, wild and distorted in agony. But it is not an agony of the body. Xo, the warring of the elements and the convulsions of nature but faintly depict the storm of passion that, like the rolling and tossing of angry billows, seethes and surges in the soul of that unhappy man. At length he staggers to the mouth of the cavern and enters. And now the full import of the horrible deed which BUM CLASS OK LITERATURE AND LANGUAGES THE AFTERMATH 25 he is contemplating breaks upon him. In accents wild he denounces his Creator and the day that gave him birth. A period of calm ensues but it is the calm of despair. His mind reverts to the days of his boyhood, to the green fields and shaded woodlands of his native Galilee; where he as a youth with nought of care or trouble played beside the brooks and listened to the warbling of the birds; his heart at peace with God and man. The years glide by unnoticed and a remarkable change comes over him. It was a beautiful day and one which could linger long in his memory; that day when he sat with many others in the shade of the olive trees, and listened in wondering admiration to the teachings of the Master. The divine unction of His words stirred his soul to the very depths, and in the fire of his zeal, Judas Iscariot determined to devote himself heart and soul to the service of his Lord and Master. With Him he traversed the hills and vales of his beloved Galillec restoring sight to the blind, healing the sick, and raising even the dead to life. His gentleness, meekness and forbearance, His readiness to forgive the faults and failings and weaknesses of men, won the love of even the most depraved. For a time all went well, till a temptation arose which, though seemingly trifling in itself, was destined to work his destruction. He had been intrusted with the care of the alms with which the apostles purchased their daily necessities. All his life he had been a poor man and now to have money in his possession tempted him too greatly. He began to draw little sums for his own enjoyment. In the words of a later day poet: “O what a tangled web we weave When first we practise to deceive.” His love for money grew greater and greater until, O unhappy man! he delivered his Lord over to His enemies for a paltry sum of money, which later pursued by remorse he threw at the giver’s feet. His long hair flattened under a sudden gust of rain. This served to recall him to where he was and his errand. 26 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL But now the lightning ceases and all is thick heavy darkness. In a few hours the orb of night is again rolling supremely through the dark-blue depths and the whole landscape is swimming in a wonderful half-light. Ah, God! What is that? Upon a huge boulder the shadow of a man is clearly delineated. And there, suspended from a limb of a tree, swaying in the slight breeze, hangs the body of the traitor, Judas Iscariot, stiff in death. O unhappy wretch! To rush unbidden into the presence of the God whom he had so grievously offended, the all-powerful Lord whom he had so lately delivered over to His enemies to be crucified. But Judas from the moment he swung himself into space even now and through eternal days will go on reaping the penalty of his misdeeds. When the morning sun arose carrion birds were already at their gruesome meal and outside the walls of Jerusalem two Roman soldiers awoke to find the door of the tomb they were guarding broken down and the interior empty. II. The sun has disappeared behind the western hills and the twilight is gathering apace. A gentle breeze has sprung up, stirring the trees and bushes by the roadside. Along the Appian Way two men on horseback are cantering towards Rome. As they draw nearer, their features are disclosed. The one is advanced in age, thoughtful and serious of countenance obviously a patrician, possibly a consul; the other is a young man of military bearing; apparently a relative of the older man from his freedom and familiarity. The face of the old man reveals a suffering of the soul—perhaps remorse for some sin he has committed. “Uncle, when shall we again return to Judea?” the young man was asking. “It is now April, and we were to return before March.” “I love Judea no longer, Sextus. I asked our young emperor to relieve me of the governorship of that province and he has granted my request. Henceforth I will live in private.” THE AFTERMATH 27 “But what is the reason for this? Surely you were not dissatisfied.” “I love neither Judea nor its people,” the old man answered shortly. “Uncle, there is something else. For many years now, there has been something troubling you. Fear not to tell me. If I”— “There is something else. Know you, then, that when I weakly acceded to the Nazarene’s death, and I still believe Him innocent, I had been warned. After His death many wonderful things occurred. Since then I have been persecuted, I have been harassed by bad dreams and many strange things have happened to disturb the even tenor of my life. Something unseen is following me. Sextus, I am afraid.’’ The old man’s voice trembled strangely in the silence of the evening. Sextus did not answer and for some time they rode on quietly. Suddenly his eye was attracted by a group of people, indistinct in the fast-gathering gloom, entering into a rift among the rocks. Many other dark figures appeared and entered the same opening. “Uncle,” he whispered, “behold these stragglers winding their way towards the hollow in the mountain. Can it be that they would conspire against the Republic? The old man who watched the people carefully, then said, “Come, we shall follow them.” At the entrance of a narrow defile the old man alighted. He ordered Sextus to await his return and then disappeared among the rocks. He followed a group of people down a steep descent and through a subterraneous passage. By the dim light of torches he could see other passages stretching away into utter blackness. These were the catacombs he knew, but how and what was the design of these people for selecting such a place for their council, he did not know. It could not be a conspiracy for he would not be allowed to pass the entrance unchallenged. Fie was vaguely afraid. The group which he was following turned into a large room. The old man followed and took his place in the rear. The room SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL 28 was even worse lighted than the passages leading to it; and as soon as the old man’s eyes became accustomed to the darkness, he could see that quite a number of people were gathered. Presently some one lit a number of torches in front. By their light the old man was enabled to make out the word Christus cut into the rock. He shuddered. Christus was the name of the man whom he had allowed to be crucified. An old man leaning upon a staff made his way through the crowd. It was St. Peter, the head of the early church. The people greeted him with joyous acclamations. As soon as there was silence Peter began to narrate the passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ. It was nearing the feast of Easter. At the mention of His name, Pilate trembled again, he knew not why. Suddenly he heard his own name spoken. “They delivered him over to Pontius Pilate, the governor.” He listened attentively, Pilate washed his hands before the people, saying, T am innocent of this man’s blood.’ ’” The people answered all, “His blood be upon us and upon our children.” Pilate rose and fled. He knew that notwithstanding the last words, he also was guilty of His blood. Outside he met Sextus and with him rode on to Rome, unheeding the young man’s insistent questions. Day by day, he became more and more morose, savage, and his brain seemed to falter under the strain. One day he disappeared from his house. Despite all efforts of Sextus, who spared no expense to gain track of him, he was never seen again. If that old oak standing on the bank of Lake Geneva could speak, what a story it would tell. The night was cool, there was not a breath of a breeze. The placid lake was as smooth as glass. 'File moon in the clear heavens above reflected a silvery path across the broad expanse of water. A man, more like a tortured ghost than a man, his clothes in rags, demented, and making crying, sobbing sounds in his throat, came out upon the stone landing. He turned as if pursued to ask mercy of the pursuer, then, receiving none, with the cry of a wild beast, he leaped into the water. A loud splash and a gurgling sound, THE AFTERMATH 29 and ever widening ripples—he was gone. Unbroken silence again reigned and in a few minutes the path of the moon across the water was as smooth and unbroken as before. Thus Pontius Pilate. ROBERT J. NEILAN, 4th High. Clhf Bis urn nf B v ICaunfal HIS poem is the work of the well known literary genius, James Russell Lowell. It is said that he wrote it in a sort of frenzy of forty-eight hours, during which he hardly ate or slept. It was published in December, 1848. The subject is of course connected with the legend-cycle of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, and especially with that part of the story which tells of the quest of the Holy Grail. The San Greal, or Holy Grail, was the cup out of which Jesus partook at the Last Supper. When Joseph of Arimathea took our Lord’s body from the Cross, he received into the cup, already holy, many drops of Blood from Our Savior’s bleeding wounds, thus making the cup doubly sacred. He carried the cup into England and there it was kept, an object of pilgrimage and reverence, for many years, in the keeping of his lineal decendants. In progress of time one of its keepers broke the vow which bound him to be pure in thought, word and deed, whereupon the Holy Grail disappeared. Lowell says: “The plot of this poem (if I may give that name to anything so slight) is my own, and to serve its purposes I have enlarged the circle of competition in search of the miraculous cup in such a manner as to include, not only other persons than the heroes of the Round Table, but also a period of time subsequent to the date of King Arthur’s reign.” The structure of the poem is complicated and sometimes confusing. At the outset one must notice that there is a story within a story. The action of the major story covers only a single night, and the hero of this story is the real Sir Launfal, who, in his sleep dreams the minor story, the Vision. The action of this story covers the life-time of the hero, the imaginary Sir Launfal, from early manhood to old age, and includes his wanderings in distant lands. VISION OF SIR LA UNFAL 31 The first prelude depicts the beauty and inspiring joy of spring in a detailed but very beautiful manner, typifying the buoyant youth and aspiring soul of Sir Launfal. This prelude corresponds to the second prelude, which describes the bleakness and desolate life of the hero. But beneath the surface of this wintry age there is a new soul of summer beauty, the warm love of suffering humanity, just as beneath the surface of the frozen brook, there is an ice-palace of summer beauty. In the first part Sir Launfal, a young knight, proud of his lineage and his great possessions and intolerant of every one who is not as well born as himself, decides to start forth on a quest for the Holy Grail, feeling sure that so upright and goodly a knight as he will succeed where so many have failed. On his last night at home he falls asleep in the courtyard of his castle, and dreams: and in his dream he sees himself setting out on his quest. As he rides out of the castle gate, a leper asks an alms of him. The loathsome sight annoys the young lord, who has no sympathy with suffering and disease, so he scornfully tosses the beggar a piece of money and goes haughtily on his way. The leper does not touch the coin. He needs money badly enough, but he wants nothing that is given without sympathy. In the second part: After the lapse of many years, the pride and intolerance in the young knight’s heart still prevent him from finding the Holy Grail. As he grows older and sees more of the world around him, as his flashing, unscarrcd armor grows dingy and battered; as his riches and power fall from him, his arrogance gives place to humility, and his heart is filled with sympathy and loving kindness towards suffering humanity. And one day he comes back, an old, white-hcaired man, to his castle, where a usurper reigns in his stead; and as he sits, himself a despised beggar in the very gateway where he had, so long before, spurned the leper, he hears a voice asking for alms and sees again a leper crouching beside him. Sir Launfal's heart goes out in loving compassion to the beggar. In the name of Christ he shares with him his last mouldy crust, and gives him a drink of water from his wooden bowl— 32 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL then the vision reaches its climax. The grewsome leper becomes a glorified being—the Christ in whose name the crust of bread was shared; and Sir Launfal's quest is ended: for the wooden bowl, which had seemed so poor a possession, is found to be the Iloly Cup itself, revealed to him at last by the visible presence of Christ, because he has become perfect in sympathy and brotherly love. Sir Launfal awakes and takes the lesson to heart. He realizes that it is not a material cup for which he ought to seek, but the presence of Christ, of which the cup is a symbol; and that this presence can only be found in a heart free from pride and full of loving kindness. In the vision Sir Launfal heard Christ say: “The Holy Supper is kept, indeed, In whatso we share with another’s need. Not what we give, but what we share, For the gift without the giver is bare: Who gives himself, with his alms feeds three, Himself, his hungering neighbor, and Me.” By this experience he learns that one need not travel far and do great deeds to win the favor of Christ. Therefore he changes his manner of living: opens his castle to the poor, the suffering and the homeless, and does Christ’s work in the world. ARTHUR J. SCHICHTL, 3rd High. RokertJNeilan Louts AKaufer. ClmtouJ.HarroW WftttS JohnGtCarroll arkHHannau Jerome RKflUj. I? James Q-Watkup Roller? ECogMon. UilUanJMollojj. Af asara jata. -■A.:.. X | I FOURTH YEAR HIGH Uiransfttrmtfim CIEXCE, I understand by the term physical or experimental science, deals with the Universe in as far as it is known to us through the senses. The Universe we call nature, and science as distinguished from pseudo-science is the corn-plexus of truths, gathered from the examination and verification of natural phenomenona, with such inferences therefrom as ascertained facts, clearly warrant. From careful observation Science can learn the so-called Laws of Nature, namely the way and manner in which the various forces and elements constantly operate in certain circumstances; it can also discover the chain of causes and effects through which these natural phenomena are carried on; it can form hypotheses concerning that which is not directly accessible to observation; and these hypotheses when they are justified by constantly being in conformity with observed facts, are termed theories and practically taken as established truths. But it must always be remembered that theories and hypotheses which are formulated by “Science” antecedently to “facts,” which arc not based on “facts” and in support of which “facts” arc not forthcoming, have no real scientific value. Bearing this well in mind we shall proceed to inquire what Science has to say regarding the important and much mooted question of Evolution. Nowadays we are constantly informed that the answer to the question concerning the origin of the manifold forms of life now existent upon the earth is to be found in the doctrine of Evolution. The adherents of the doctrine vary widely in their interpretation of it, but probably in its most generally understood sense. Evolution means, the “genetic” development of an original organism from one species to another, operating through the medium of natural laws and giving birth in the course of millions of years to the countless species and races of plants and animals now upon earth. The meaning of Evolution, when thus understood is often wrongly confounded with Darwinism, which is but a particular explanation of the theory of Evolution based on what is called Natural Selection. 34 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL The greater number of Transformists make no attempt to solve the question of the origin of life whether animal or vegetable. Given life, they undertake to show that Organic Evolution has occurred and to exhibit the manner in which it took place. All Transformists are one in regard to the first point, concerning the second they differ and divide into a number of schools, each of which produces some particular factor to supply the required explanation. Of these schools, save Darwinism, it will not be necessary to speak in particular. The great and all-important question is whether or not genetic evolution has been established as a fact. But since Darwinism is the best known of the Theories, since its explanation has penetrated deepest and acquired the firmest hold in the public mind, we shall consider this question in the light in which it is explained by Darwinism. Remembering now the principle of Science which insists that things be proved not by authority but by evidence, for if authority were to decide, Transformism would almost undoubtedly win, we shall seek for the proofs which are offered in support of the theory, and though it may in itself be true we shall not feel constrained to admit it without perceiving that the proffered proofs are uninpeachable. Mr. Herbert Spencer has said: “Evolution is an integration of matter and concomitant dissipation of motion during which the matter passes from a relatively indefinite, incoherent homogeneity to a relatively definite, coherent heterageneity and during which the retained motion undergoes a parallel transformation.” The definition is not conspicuous for clarity, still it must mean that as in earlier forms of life one organ performed many different functions in an imperfect way, evolutionary processes have produced higher forms in which each function has its special organ by which it is more perfectly discharged. Thus Evolution has been an ascending process from the lower to the higher, from the less to the more organized among plants and animals alike. Now looking through the various species we find gradation, but that proves nothing, for the question is, was this gradation caused by “genetic” descent, by modification of form from form. TRANSFORMJSM 35 Mr. Darwin seeks to prove so by his Natural Selection. The theory of Mr. Darwin is rendered not so important by his own claims as it is by those of others. The idea prevails almost universally that he has brought forward a scientific explanation that will do away with all power beyond Nature. Nearly a century before Darwin, Kant wrote: “It is absurd for a man to even conceive the idea that at some period a Newton will arise who can explain the origin of a single blade of grass by natural laws, uncontrolled by design. Such a hope is forbidden us.” Haeckel, referring to the above, said: “This impossible Newton of the organic world has appeared in the person of Charles Darwin and has achieved the great task Kant deemed impossible.” And yet Mr. Darwin himself repeatedly denied any such supposition. At the very end of his life he wrote: “It has been implied that my views explain the Universe. This is a most monstrous exaggeration for the more one thinks the more one feels the hopeless immensity of man’s ignorance. The whole question seems to me insoluble.” In his book entitled “The Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection,” Mr. Darwin argues that, as man has been able to produce wonderful changes in plants, domestic animals, Nature with almost unlimited ages of time at her disposal has been able to produce far greater transformations, and transformation affecting the very essence of the being, and that factor which amid the discordant variations has picked what leads to one certain result he calls Natural Selection. He reasons thus: The tendency of organic life whether vegetable or animal is to propagate itself enormously, and the capacity of the earth for the support of life is limited; consequently it follows that only a part of the creatures which come into the world can reach maturity, and that while the best fitted will live those less well-fitted will die. This gives rise to an endless struggle for existence in which even the slightest advantage is bound to tell. In the course of propagation, however, the offspring are never identical with the parent stock, and vary at least to a slight degree among themselves. In these variations there must necessarily be some that are advantageous to their possessors. Being advantageous this variation is developed in the individual and is transmitted to the progeny. The 36 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL same process re-occurs and a sufficient period of time granted, hitherto inconceivable transformations become actual steps towards an advanced and higher condition. Now it requires no effort to conceive of the organism suiting itself to certain ocnditions or even varying in its accidents, but when Mr. Darwin ascribes to natural selection not merely the modification of already existing structures but the creation of entirely new mechanisms for specific purposes, the theory begins to lose whatever show of worth it may have had and commences to appear as Mr. Darwin himself said concerning the production of the eye of the present higher mammals from forms possessing no sight whatever, slightly preposterous. Natural Selection as we have seen, claims that the advantageous variations have produced the “genera” of today. But in this case as likewise with innumerable others we cannot possibly conceive of a limb slowly and imperceptibly changing into a wing, as being advantageous to the individual. The wing would prove very beneficial in the end but the limb which was gradually shaping itself towards a wing would prove extremely unad-vantageous for a longtime previous to that point where it would have even the slightest advantage of the wing. We cannot possibly imagine a creature so equipped being anything but hopelessly handicapped in the struggle for existence; and when we furthermore consider the great length of time necessary to produce the change, (Mr. Darwin is unalterably opposed to “sudden jumps’’ in Nature) the extinction of whatever individuals might have begun such a change becomes a foregone conclusion. Moreover such difficulties as the above are greatly aggravated by a consideration of a fact that is invariably either overlooked or purposely omitted by Transformists. The arguments that are generally put forward in behalf of natural selection seem to imply that one parent would be sufficient for the transmission of the beneficial variation to the next generation. But the one parent requires a mate, and if the mate has not chanced to hit upon the same tendency for advantageous progress the same variations cannot be supposed to have been perfectly transmitted. Two reptiles, the fore limbs of which have taken TRANSFORMISM 37 a barely perceptible advance towards wings, can hardly be said to have sought each other out for merely that reason. This supposition of there being any choice in mating is rendered still more ridiculous if we consider the same question in regards to plants. Consequently the choice of mates must be left to chance and the results will be in accordance with the laws of probability and entirely the work of chance. Again it has been found that the limits of advantageous variations as determined by Science “experimentally” are infinitely smaller than those claimed by Transformism. And so we maintain that the production v. g. of the elephant and the mouse from the same original organism becomes clearly and frankly an impossibility when we consider that not only does it take the greatest care and precaution, not only must there be the most minute attention to individual selection, when a breeder wishes to produce a higher or a better form of plant or animal, but also that a continued breeding of the advanced individual invariably results in a reversal to the first form. The process of such breeding may be carried on successfully for four, five, even ten generations, but in the end the original stock is again produced. One thing we know absolutely, whatever may be the means of preserving or transmitting properties, the primitive types have remained permanent and unchanged, unchanged in the long succession of ages amid the appearance and disappearance of kinds, the fading of one species and the coming of another, from the earliest periods to the present day. There are three all-important facts which stand out clearly and prominently and before which all the foregoing theories of Evolution are helpless. Never has a living being been observed to have come into the world without parents, never has a single individual of any species or genius been observed to take even the slightest step towards an advanced form, and never in all the researches of Science has there been found a single fossil form representing one species merging into another. Plenty of fossil animals and plants have been found, but each one, if the species has not become extinct, is identical with every individual of the species as it is known today. The hundred of 38 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL intermediate forms which are universally admitted to be necessary for the Transformist theory are lacking. Not one has been found and thus the whole edifice of Darwinism and Evolution, evolution of living from non-living, and evolution of form from form topples over for lack of foundation. CYRIL PEEREMBORM, ’15. Hakf Hasljtttgttm A lake of blue untarnished floor, Refreshed from sparkling mountain brooks, That wind adown the shady shore Through forests dark and shady nooks, Adorned with lofty, craggy mounts, That tower up into the skies, With parks adorned and crystal founts, This lake of wondrous beauty lies. Along its shores and up the slope Fair flowers bloom forth in varied hue, And clouds that in the sky do float, Behold their forms in limpid blue. And as the rays of mounting sun Do guild the lake with streaks of gold. You feel that Nature has begun Her wealth of splendor to enfold. And in the night the stars in amaze At the wondrous sight in the gloom. Stand fixed and silently gaze Upon the picture of the waning moon. Ah! waves aglow with radiant light, That lash and foam against the shore, We muse and firmly fix our sight Upon this scene unknown of yore. JAMES E. McATEER, ’17. (getting (gout ONY was visibly depressed. But for his sunny nature he would be peeved. Tony wanted to be back in “liT old Noo York” again, notwithstanding its sweltering heat and crowded streets. The cause for this sudden desire could not be ascribed to his surroundings. At his feet lay the modest little village of Santini. On either side cultivated fields and grassy slopes swam in an amber haze, and far away on his left, barely distinguishable, the lordly Apennines reared their lofty peaks. Above was the deep soft blue of Italian skies with here and there a shred of cloud lazily floating across the great expanse. Behind him—Tony was too comfortable to look. And yet Tony wished to be in New York where he had been merely Tony and a pusher of a banana cart, while in Italy he was Signor Antonio Guiseppe Frosali, Prosecuting Attorney, or rather Chief Inquisitor, of the incorporated town of Santini. What could be the reason for this sudden and absurd wish? Tony ungracefully hoisted himself from his chair and waddled into his office to look into the reason himself. (Sad to remark in his five years’ consulship, Tony had accumulated much avoirdupois to his subsequent discomfort.) When he had recovered his wind he unrolled a legal looking document, decorated with seals like locomotive headlights, and proceeded to read. It appeared from the document that Signorina Guilia Margherita Palmieri was a poor milk girl, with no living relatives and without any known friends. Her sole possession was a goat which she daily drove through the streets of Santini and milked into the jugs and pitchers which were brought to her by the customers. The simple people of Santini were very wise; they could kill two birds with one stone. They saw to it that the milker operated before their very eyes—thus eliminating the middleman and putting an effective crusher on any absent-minded effort to convert the precious liquid into lawn-spray. The returns from the lactic output were barely sufficient to keep Guilia in comfort, yet she must have a new opera coat, and this brought her into trouble. THIRD YKAIt HIGH GETTING HER GOAT 41 In some way she had become entangled with a band of international thieves. She was not conversant with any of their plans, but was in possession of the names and description of most of the band. The unscrupulous villains, taking advantage of her youth and superstitious fears, had bound her to secrecy by the most terrible oaths. So far Guilia had steadfastly ignored all inducements of the police to reveal any names. She believed that her eternal damnation would be sealed were she to open her lips, and when she had been delivered over to Luigi Vittorio, not even his delicate instruments could wrest the secret from her. Tony laid the paper aside. His secret was out. Tony was afraid of having the tinware attached to him, to speak idiomatically. Hence his desire for a change of residence to where there were no obstinate girls to bother him. But Tony had not lived forty-five years to no purpose, and when he had blown out the light, he had a plan for the morrow. Guilia Margherita Palmieri awoke with a vast, unformulated resentment against the whole world. Why had they so fiendishly insisted on attempting to drag her secret from her and thus destroy her soul? What new scheme had that fiend of fiends, Luigi Vittorio, concocted? Her body was still aching from the rack and her flesh had been laid bare in several places. The deep hollows under her eyes proclaimed lack of sleep. Lack of sleep! Luigi, that limb of Satan, had kept her awake without a moment’s relaxation until her poor head almost burst and finally sleep overcame her and she wandered through dreamland. The jailer now approached, awoke her and then bade her follow him to the torture chamber. Guilia sighed resignedly and obeyed. What next! But instead of Luigi it was the Chief Incjuisitor who was giving orders. She was immediately placed in the stocks which held her bare brown feet straight out, but left her hands free. Guilia looked defiantly at the recorder as he stood pen in hand, always ready if she would open her mouth; but, as she thought, doomed once more to disappointment. Luigi, obeying his master’s orders, came forward with a pail of strong brine and with a stiff 42 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL brush applied several coatings to the soles of Guilia’s outstretched feet. Then Tony whispered something into a servant’s ear which made the fellow’s eyes stick out as he left the room. Soon a peculiar sound was heard in the corridor and the goat, Pepinella, was led into the room. Pepinella recognized her mistress and with a bleat of joy ran to her side. It did not take long for the goat to discover that Guilia’s feet were covered with delicious salt and she began licking them with her rough tongue. A spasm crossed the girl’s face, her face turned purple, her eyes seemed starting from her head, she arose and tried in vain to drive the creature from her feet. When she seemed on the verge of convulsion, Luigi drew the goat away. Guilia began babbling out names and addresses at such a rate that the secretaries had to compose a new shorthand code to keep up. Once she faltered, and Luigi’s hand loosened and the recital continued. Soon all was over and Guilia and her goat were released. Tony would not have to go back to New York and his banana cart. Luigi Vittorio approached Tony. “Signor,” said he, “it was wonderful. She would have died on our hands without speaking a word. Signor, how did you do it?” “Why,” said Tony, “it was nothing great. All it required was a little thought. In fact,” he concluded, “it was merely a case of getting her goat.” ROBERT J. NEILAN, 4th High. iSoltbing tlj? ©urrlattb IHatl in 1920 bg Aeroplane T was a clear and peaceful night. The great white moon rose slowly in all its beauty and majesty from the distant horizon. So calm was the atmosphere that the land below could be seen wrapped up in a silent spell. Billy Blair’s engine was running to perfection. As he sat behind the wheel of his huge biplane he chuckled at the prospects of a delightful trip. The heavy throbbing of the ten cylinders, together with their life-like pulsations, hummed through the balmy atmosphere into the solemn stillness of the night. Number “53” was a newly-built craft in the service. She was a combination of three powerful essentials in aeroplane construction : strength, power and efficiency. She was well equipped with a ten-cylinder Garros motor, enclosed fusillade, high curved landing skids, gyroscopic steadiers. Billy rode alone that night in his machine. He gazed upon the passing scenes as he hurried over them. Here a small town or hamlet hundreds of feet below, dotted with faintly glimmering lights, there a sheet of water with sails skipping over them presented an enchanting panorama to his eye. Far out in the limitless darkness, he could detect bordering lines of moonlit lakes and bays. While thus absorbed in the delights of the wonderful scene about and below him, a sudden puff of wind struck the big wings of his biplane, causing it to leap forward with amazing speed. This was quickly followed by a heavy jolt; something had fallen upon the upper wing of the biplane. He arose from his seat, looked overhead and discerned not far from him a queer-looking shape hovering over his machine. It squirmed and took a dip in the air, now regained its level, now girated in all directions till it made a sharp curve, fastened itself underneath Number “53,” then disappeared in the distance like a cloud blown by a heavy wind. 44 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL Billy was at first puzzled by the incident and could not explain to himself how this queer-shaped object came near him, whence it came and whither it went. He stepped over to the compartment which contained the sacks of the Overland mail, walked back to ascertain that all the parts of his biplane were in good condition and resumed his course in the direction of Seattle. At the foot of the Cascade Mountains in an old shed with the windows safely screened to conceal its interior from the curious eye, Scipio Mansario was putting the last touch to an odd craft, which in his opinion would surpass every other form of aerial workmanship. The skill and the dollars of Dr. Paul Rey were mainly to be credited with the success of the two partners in the invention of the new machine. “The Overland is due tomorrow night,” broke in the doctor, as the two men entered the shed to give their machine a thorough and last inspection. Its course lies due north over the mountains. ’ “Give her a good start,” replied Scipio, as he looked over the map which his partner held in his hands. “It would be dangerous to make our ascent too early in clear weather like this. We shall keep on her trail a mile or so behind, and swoop down on her when she reaches the inhabited tracts of sagebrush.” The “Eureka” represented years of thought and labor. Its distinctive features were the motor, about the size of a ten-pound coffee can, and the fuel it was to feed upon. The latter was composed of radium, gasoline and ether, a compound hitherto unknown to scientists except the doctor himself. A quart of this compound would supply them with fuel for the distance of four thousand miles. There now stood the cigar-shaped machine, twenty feet long and seven feet high, with three wings on its body, ready to make her trip. Everything was in order. It was a clear December night. The two men kept a close watch scanning the skies in all directions. Several flying machines had passed over their heads but ROBBING THE OVERLAND HAIL 45 it was the arrival of a certain one that was to be the signal for their ascent. About 10:30 the doctor spied a grey speck moving regularly in a straight course. The Overland was due at that hour in the vicinity of their quarters. Scipio Mansario gave a last look at the motor, wheeled his machine out of the shed, switched on his engine and found that she was running perfectly. “Let her go,” whispered the doctor. The Eureka rose swiftly in the air, began to climb till it found itself on a level course with the “Overland Mail” biplane. “What a beautiful piece of mechanism,” muttered Scipio. as by means of the lever which he held firmly in his hands, he twisted and turned his machine at will, flying round and round to ascertain that the mode of attack they had planned was not beyond his control. The machine moved swiftly along, gaining pace with the Overland. It had now come within twenty paces of it when the doctor moved towards the engine to muffle the hissing sound which escaped with the steam from its valves. He tapped gently the shoulder of his partner. The machine increased its speed: quick as a flash it swooped down on the bverland as a bird of prey, whirled about it, made a quick dip under it, held itself suspended underneath for a few seconds, then shot out into the space with ghost-like velocity. Billy Blair became somewhat alarmed at the irregular performance of his machine. It tilted several times and regained its level each time with difficulty. Its movement was sluggish. “Santos assured me I’d feel perfectly at home once I’d strike the official route of the Overland. Good Santos, it was certainly royal on his part to get me a fine position in the service.” Billy waited a while, still seated at the steer, but the trouble was the same, the Overland was acting queerly. “Hang it, I’m going to look ’er over and see what’s out of order.” 46 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL Among the many improvements of “53” was a novel mechanical device by Cornclli; “the Prompto.” By merely shifting his gear to neutral and depressing a rod at his foot, he brought into action the Prompto; by reason of it two cylinders only worked and the biplane hung suspended in space. Releasing the emergency trouble-damp, Billy switched on the current. “Confound it, that young Preston has neglected to reinstate that Dupont storage. Wonder that I traveled so far without further mishap.” He returned to his seat, grasped in his hand tightly the guiding steer, straightened himself and looked ahead to sec the muzzle of a gleaming revolver flash before his face. “Up with your mitts,” sounded a voice in a clear and harsh tone. Dr. Rev had silently climbed up from under Billy’s biplane to which he had clung all the while, seated on one of the crossrods, till he saw the moment opportune for the robbery. It was useless for Billy to remonstrate or to offer any resistance before these two mean-looking barrels of an Iver-Johnson. As the stranger leaped toward him with the revolver in one hand and a rough-looking pair of handcuffs in the other, he raised himself from his seat, but was ordered immediately to step out of his position and open the mail compartment. With a turn of the key a metal door flew open revealing the contents of a steel-walled square room. Instantly Dr. Rey clasped Billy’s two powerful wrists with the handcuffs, threatening to shoot him if he dared show any opposition. Bending over the rail of the deck he fired three shots through the unbroken solitude of these upper regions. Scipio Mansario heard the signal he had agreed upon with Dr. Rey, and shot at full speed in the direction of the Overland. “Hold her close as possible, Scipio, shouted the doctor, as he hurried to grab the mail sacks. Swiftly he threw them one by one into the hands of his partner. Having emptied the mail compartment of its contents, Rey smashed with a well-directed blow the delicate carburetor of the Overland engine and climbed over to the “Eureka,” leaving Billy’s machine in a crippled condition to volplane to the prairie below. ROBBING THE OVERLAND MAIL 47 'I'he Eureka shot away with its little engine full on, flying cloud-like through the thin layers of the atmosphere. On it flew in its desperate and maddening flight as if afraid to be intercepted at any moment. Once out of danger Scipio throttled his engine. Slowly the cigar-shaped machine volplaned to the ground and alighted gently at the foot of the Cascades. The Overland Mail robbery was an accomplished fact. LESTER B. SCHORN, T6. mt tEUiott lag A sunset on Elliott’s bright waters I watched as its splendor grew nigh, A spectrum resplendent with glory Of forest and mountain and sky; The great golden sun stealing westward, In haste for his long-needed rest, Ilad adorned with his rich rosy lustre The sentinel heights of the West. The Sound stretching lucid beneath it. Deep lulled in a peaceful repose, Smiling up to the fiery heavens Drank in its bosom the tints of the rose, Till the brightening expanse of water, And the range of those heavenly heights Were glimmering and sparkling with crimson, In their myriad shadows and lights. A sail far out o’er the billows Gleams forth like a glist’ning star; 'The sparkling of silvery gull wings Brightly Hashes on me from afar. Then dull like a vision fading 'Fhe brilliance begins to pale, The glitter dies in the ocean, The fires of the heavens now fail. Ah, dainty the blending of colors, The shifting of shadow and light, Till the water lay purple and golden And twilight paused waiting for night. Then out of the dusk laden gloaming Tier rays streaking far o’er the sea. Smiled Venus, the star of the evening. The dearest of planets to me. Bright Nature has exquisite portraits, In valley, in sky and in sea; In all styles and colors she’s painted Her vistas of wonder to me. But nowhere unfolds she bright treasures Of garden and of rich water-way, To excel the vision she showed me Of sunset on Elliott Bay. JOHN F. DOUGHERTY, ’1 'ji HOIH UVW A CIXOOMS Udip lU'aarii Virgin in Nntt-(Eatlgilir Writers JROPE has seldom witnessed a more decisive revolution than that which shook it in the sixteenth century. The so-called reformation was its name. This destructive movement first rejected, and then held up to scorn, doctrines venerable with Apostolic age. But few of the old churches’ tenets were so fiercely assailed as the veneration Catholics pay to the Mother of God. Protestantism inaugurated and perpetuated a campaign of slander against the honor of this ideal of true womanhood that lives even to our day, and yet amid it all some of its most gifted sons under the inspiring glow of that almost divine thing—genius—sang better than Protestantism knew and bestowed upon the Mother of God some of the most graceful tributes known to literature. Prominent among these men of talent was Henry Constable, a zealous Protestant, who years in advance of the solemn declaration of Mary’s Immaculate Conception penned the soul-inspiring lines: In that. O Queen of Queens, thy birth was free From that which others doth of grace bereave, When in their mother’s womb they life receive, God, as his soul born daughter, loved thee; To match thee like thy birth’s nobility He thee. His spirit, for thy spouse did leave, By whom thou didst His only Son conceive. And so was linked to all the Trinity. John Donne has left a beautiful example of love and reverence towards Mary. Born of a Catholic family he became a member of the Established Church of England. Unfaithful to the church in which he was born, he still retained an affection for Marv as the following lines will show: “For that fair blessed Mother Maid, whose flesh redeemed us, our zealous thanks we pour. As her deeds were our help so are her prayers; nor can she sue in vain who hath titles unto you.” 50 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL Abraham Cowley, a distinguished English poet and one of the most popular writers of his day has left a memorable page in his description of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin in one of his last poetical works entitled Davideis. He thus narrates the event: “Fair angels passed by next in seemly bands All gilt, with gilded baskets in their hands. Some as they went the blue-eyed violets strew, Some spotless lilies in loose order threw. In the same strain he pictures the Blessed Virgin entering unaware of the angels presence. Her appearance, he says, was more than human, no stain of sin disfigured her. Her countenance casts a dusky gloom over all the flowers. A bright cloud approaches her, from it an angel alights, meekly bows before the maid and proclaims his heavenly message. “With sober face a heavenly maid walks in, Her looks all fair, no sign of native sin Though her whole body writ, immoderate grace Spoke things far more than human in her face. It casts a dusky gloom o’er all the flowers And with full beams their mingled light devours. An angel straight broke from a shining cloud And pressed his wings, and with much reverence bowed. Again he bowed and grave approach he made. And thus his sacred message sweetly said: Hail, full of grace; thee the whole world shall call Above all blest; thee who shall bless them all.” Thomas Ken, an Anglican bishop, who was remarkable for his erudition and broadness of view, has written some sublime lines expressive of the sentiments he entertained towards the Mother of our divine Savior. Speaking of her Assumption into heaven he says: “When to the grave she should resign her clay, Exulting when the world she was to leave, And her divine Viaticum receive. Fell sick and died of an excess of love; Hastening to her restoratives above, Heaven with transcendent joys her entrance graced, Next to His throne, her Son, His Mother placed; There below now she’s of heaven possessed, THE BLESSED VIRGIN 51 All generations are to call her blessed. Oh, happy Virgin undefiled, Blessed Mother of a Blessed Child.” When the nineteenth century rolled in, it ushered into the literary world the great figure of Walter Scott. He was a pro-testant by birth and environment. Yet everyone who is acquainted with his “Lady of the Lake” will recall to mind the beautiful lines that fell from the lips of Ellen extolling the praises of Mary. “Ave Maria; maiden mild! Listen to a maiden’s prayer! Thou canst hear though from the wild, Thou canst save amid despair. Safe may we sleep beneath thy care, Though banished, outcast, and reviled— Maiden, hear a maiden’s prayer, Mother, hear a suppliant child! Ave Maria!” In 1770 another great poet came into the world; he too did not disdain to use the great talent with which the Almighty gifted him by singing the glories of the chaste and immaculate Virgin of Nazareth. William Wordsworth, the well-known founder of the Lake School of Poetry, has immortalized his pen in his exquisite sonnet on “The Virgin.” The oft-quoted five words comprising the fourth line—“Our tainted nature's solitary boast”—contain in their brevity all that has been or will be written in devotion to Mary Immaculate, thus: “Mother whose virgin bosom was uncrost With the least shade of thought to sin allied; Woman! above all women glorified, Our tained nature’s solitary boast. There lived during the time of Newman a famous Anglican by the name of Kcblc. He never embraced the true faith towards which lie seemed for many years favorably inclined. His religious poems and hj-mns are replete with ideas which have been always opposed to the tenets of the church to which he belonged. It is remarkable how to these non-Catholic writers the immaculate motherhood of Mary had become a common theme 52 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL for their poetical effusions. Keble was no exception among them. Thus he speaks on the subject: “His throne, thy bosom blest, O Mother undefiled, That throne, if aught beneath the skies, Beseems the Sinless Child.” But even Shelley, the unbalanced reformer as some styled him, a restless spirit whose atheistic theories are reflected in some of his wonderful lyrics one who sought ideal beauty and was ever dissatisfied, seems to have found momentary happiness in the vision of the Queen of Heaven when he says of her: “In whom as in the splendor of the sun All shapes look glorious which thou gazest on.” George Gordon Byron, in whose writings one finds exquisite lyrics of love and despair, who portrayed scenes unsurpassed in our language, surprises us that he could have written the following lines when one considers that his life was marked “with a tendency to destroy all belief in the reality of virtue.” “Ave Maria, ’tis the hour of prayer, Ave Maria, 'tis the hour of love! Ave Maria, may our spirits dare Look to thine and thy Son's above. Ave Maria, blessed be the hour. The time, the clime, the spot, where I so oft Have felt that moment in its fullest power Sink o'er the earth, so beautiful and soft!” But this spirit of appreciation of Mary’s worth was not confined to the poets of the old world. Looking over the works of our own native bards on this side of the Atlantic, men of genius, reared in the protestant faith, have likewise paid their tribute of recognition of Mary’s greatness in their verses. Among the noteworthy poems of Edgar Allen Poe we find the following hymn to the Blessed Virgin: “At morn, at noon, at twilight dim, Maria thou hast heard my hymn. In joy, in woe—in good and ill— Mother of God be with me still. When the hours flew brightly by And not a cloud obscured the sky THE BLESSED VIRGIN 53 My soul lest it should truant be Thy grace did guide to thine and thee.” “The autocrat of the Breakfast Table,” Oliver Wendell Holmes, calls Mary: “Is thy name Mary, maiden fair? Such should, methinks, its music be. The sweetest name that mortals bear, Were best befitting thee. And she to whom it once was given Was half of earth and half of heaven.” Among all the non-Catholic writers past or present none have clothed their verses so profusely with Catholic sentiment as our own “household poet,” the most widely known and loved of all American poets, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Hence we are not surprised to read among other poems of his gifted pen the following lines on the Blessed Mother: “And if our faith had given us nothing more Than this example of all womanhood So mild, so merciful, so strong, so good, So patient, so peaceful, loyal, loving, pure This were enough to prove it higher and truer Than all the creeds the world had known before.” Time and revolution may have destroyed many of the pious land-marks where the pious pilgrim and the child of Mary have sought comfort and help from Mary, but still the prophecy made by the Virgin of Nazareth shall see its accomplishment all through the ages that “all nations shall call me blessed.” And the pious tributes paid to her memory by even pure non-Catholic friends go to show that it is an instinct of our nature to see that we preserve in monument of song and verse the memory of God’s masterpiece throughout all ages. MARK H. HANNAN, 4th High. Sim? of the Anrirnt tftariner URING the year of 1797, William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge planned to write in collaboration a poem for the “New Monthly Magazine.” One of Coleridge’s friends had dreamt of a person who had labored under a curse for the commission of some crime, and the poets decided to make this idea the theme of the proposed poem. Wordsworth, who had just been reading “Sherlock’s Voyages,” suggested that the hero of the poem should be a seaman, and that his crime should be the shooting of an albatross. As the machinery of the poem had to be, from the nature of its theme, largely supernatural, Wordsworth, after suggesting a few minor details, left Coleridge to finish the work by himself, as by temperament he was best suited for this style of poetry. The Rime of the Ancient Mariner soon became too elaborate for the contemplated magazine poem, and the two poets planned a volume which should contain specimens of two distinct styles of poetry. In the one style, which was handled by Coleridge, the incidents and characters were to be, in part at least, supernatural ; to this class belongs the “Ancient Mariner.” The other style, which was based on ordinary life and from nature, was handled by Wordsworth. The story of the Ancient Mariner opens with a wedding feast to which three guests are hurrying, when one of them is stopped by a queer-looking old sailor, the Ancient Mariner, who insists on telling his story to the impatient wedding guest. In spite of his efforts to get away, the wedding guest is held by a strange influence exerted by the old man, and is forced to remain and hear his story. He then relates how his ship, amid the cheers of the crowd, left the harbor, and sailed southwards, past the Equator into the utmost southern regions, where they were caught in the ice and forced to remain for some days. Then there came an albatross, and, strange to say, the ice split and they sailed into a navigable RIME OF TIIE ANCIENT MARINER 55 sea. The Albatross follows the ship for some days till finally the Mariner kills it with his cross-bow. His ship-mates cry out against him for having killed the bird of good omen, but as soon as the fog clears and they have good weather, they justify the killing of the albatross. The good weather continues, and soon the ship enters the Pacific Ocean and sails northward till it reaches the Equator, but there the breeze drops down and they are becalmed for many days. Now their agony begins, and the killing of the albatross is avenged, for the heat is intense and their water supply is exhausted. His shipmates, in their sore distress, unable to speak, as their throats are parched, would fain have thrown the whole guilt on the Ancient Mariner; so, in sign of their wrath, they hang the dead sea-bird around his neck. One day, however, the Mariner perceives a something in the sky. It grows to be a speck, and then a mist, and then a sail. The crew take courage for they expect to have their thirst quenched. But their hopes are soon dispelled; for oh! what a ship it is! She sails without wind or tide; her sails are thin as gossamer, and her hull is like the skeleton of a ship. Her crew are Death and a woman called Life-in-Death, and they are casting dice for the crew of the Mariner’s vessel. The woman wins and the crew is hers. The sun now sets; darkness rapidly settles round about, and one by one each shipmate, speechless, falls down beside the Mariner, dead. The wedding guest believes that a spirit is talking to him, but the Mariner assures him of his bodily life, and proceeds to relate his terrible penance. Alone on the wide, wide sea, oppressed by the scene around him, the staring dead bodies, the intolerable calm, and the slimy things of the ocean, the Mariner loses hope; but at length a happy change comes over him, for he sees beauty in the forms of these creatures, and he silently blesses them with his heart. Immediately the albatross falls from off his neck, the spell is broken. A gentle sleep now falls upon the Mariner and when he awakens it rains. Strange noises fill the air, and the ship moves without the aid of the wind. The bodies of the ship’s crew, by 56 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL some supernatural power arise and begin to man the vessel. The ship moves on and the Mariner falls down in a swoon. When he comes to himself the spell is completely broken, and he rejoices in finding the vessel drifting into his own harbor. Now the bodies of the crew are lighted up with ethereal light and he listens for the splash of oars. He sees a boat putting off to him, and in it are a Hermit, the pilot, and the pilot’s boy. As he steps into the Hermit’s boat, his own vessel and its frightful crew, with a rumble like that of thunder, sink like lead into the sea. The Hermit absolves him, and as a penance he must wander from land to land for the rest of his life, and teach by his own example, love and reverence to all things that God made and loves. The passage in “Sherlocke’s Voyages,” referring to the killing of an albatross, is taken from his voyage around the world by way of the Great South Seas, and is as follows: “We saw no fish, nor one sea-bird, except a disconsolate black Albatross, which accompanied us for several days, hovering above us as if it had lost itself till Hatley, my second captain, observing in one of his melancholy fits, that this bird was always hovering near us, imagined from its color that it might be some ill omen. That which, I suppose, induced him the more to encourage his superstitions was the continued series of tempestuous winds which had oppressed us ever since we got into this sea. But be that as it would, he, after some fruitless attempts, at length shot the albatross, not doubting that he would have fair weather after it.” The lesson taught by the Rime of the Ancient Mariner is very simple. It is all contained in the passage, “He prayeth well who loveth well both man, and bird, and beast.” As a famous author says: “On this the changes are rung throughout; the motiveless laughter of the bird is a crime; the other mariners who justify the killing of the albatross because of the good it seems to bring them, are even worse sinners than the Ancient Mariner. He did the ill deed on a hasty impulse; they deliberately agree to it for selfish reasons. They sin a sec- RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER 57 ond time against love by throwing the whole guilt on him, and again for selfish reasons. They are fatally punished; he lives to feel and expiate his wrong.” To even the most unobservant pupil it will, of course, seem that the mere shooting of a sea bird, even in a tale where nature conditions are meant to be greatly exaggerated, would hardly merit the fearful punishment that follows. But we must think less of the deed itself, and more of the spirit that lead to it. We must remember that the Mariner had violated the law of human sympathy and had struck a blow at the Creator of all things. LOUIS BUTY, 3rd High. THERE is a land of verdant shores, A land of a thousand silver bays. Where the gull in silence soars And basks in the sun's parting rays. No mists on its fettered waves repose. No turbulent sea in strife loud rails; No foam-covered rocks its shores disclose. No surf re-echoes to frenzied gales. RAYMOND L. BEEZER. '17. (Srippr (Triolet) Twas only a little breeze That wafted through the door— A draft that would not cease, ’Twas only a little breeze. A little cough—a sneeze, A cold, oh, nothing more. It was only a little breeze That wafted through the door. ROGER J. COUGHLIN. ’17. FI I {ST YEAR HIGH A $krf?rt Uliite XKERTON CASE, the detective, sat absorbed in deep thought for almost two hours, in his office located in the fifty-second story of the Wool worth Building. He turned over and examined every bit of evidence of a case that had been brought to him. It was an important case if we judge by the headlines on a newspaper account Mr. Case was using for reference. The headlines in the “New York Times” read: “ANOTHER LARGE BANK ROBBERY; $10,000 stolen in a mysterious way.” Mr. Case thought and pondered for a good while over the following article: “New York has experienced its fourth bank robbery within the last two weeks. Yesterday at 4:00 p. m. Benson, the clerk at the City Bank, on 5th Ave. and Thirty-fourth St., was counting the receipts of the day. As he looked in a distracted mood on the crowds in the street below his office he heard the door to his cage slam behind him and turned just in time to find his money gone. President Grover, of the bank, asserts .that he stood beside the door at that precise moment, yet he avows that he saw no one enter or leave the place. Still he is conscious of having heard footsteps close beside him at the time of the robbery. The chief clerk is of the opinion that the perpetrator of the robbery may be a ghost possessed with a strong craving for money. To corroborate this opinion the clerk confesses that he heard the rattling of chains. The New York police are greatly puzzled. Four robberies have occurred in the space of two weeks, yet no clue could be found to solve these mysterious burglaries. Besides, automobiles have sped at a tremendous speed through the suburbs without any one being able to distinguish the passengers. Aeroplanes have whizzed overhead on bright, sunny days, without detection by the naked eye. These facts seem to corroborate the belief of the frightened population of New York’s suburbs that the country is becoming the rendezvous and the haunt of ghosts. 60 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL “Pinkerton Case, the famous detective, and Sherlock Burns, his associate, are daily studying the situation and let us hope that the mystery may be solved soon.” The newspaper fell to the floor as Mr. Case moved from his chair with a sigh. “Not unlike the former cases we’ve worked upon, queer evidence, indeed, noises of invisible objects, etc. Absolutely no clue to clear the mystery.” Another day passed and you might as well try to see a distant passer-by through a London fog; it grows thicker and more mysterious. The evening papers published the account of a man being seen on the streets without any arms and with one leg missing; yet he walked with perfect ease. Another item related the story given by two people who claimed to have seen an auto wheel run along and turn the corners all by itself. And when any one attempted to catch up with it and even tried to stop it, it moved faster and emitted a human laugh. “A human laugh!” Well; thought Pinkerton as he read the account. “Ghosts wail, but their sound could hardly be called human” thought the detective. This bit of evidence might at any rate serve to explode the ghost’s theory. It was a cold moonlit evening, and as the torn and ragged edges of the silver clouds swept by the face of a full moon, they cast reflecting shadows down upon the city of New York, wrapt in sleep. The clock had struck two, but in a suburb of the great metropolis two persons were still at work. 'File fire beneath the crucible was now low, the dying embers of the burning coals cast a dull and ominous glow about the walls of the laboratory. In the dim light two people could be seen moving about in a small room. The dark, phantom-like effigies of the laboratory instruments danced about on the walls. An elderly gentleman, bent over with age, moved near a lighted lamp. His dark hair was sprinkled with tinges of grey and the bone-rimmed glasses which strided a Roman nose gave him a sagacious appearance. At a motion of his hand a young fellow 61 A PERFECT WHITE with a muscular frame, of intelligent look, came over to his side. He cast a pair of piercing eyes about the room. “Dan,” said the old man, “when are you going to try the City Hank? I'd like to see our discovery bring some returns. To tell you the truth, I’d rather prefer to use it in a lawful way by selling it to the government than to try it on these risky robberies.” “Say, old man, you know as well as I do that to deal with the government at this stage of our experiences would be dangerous. They'll discover who we are and send us to the pen for life. I was down to the City Bank today and looked it over. 1 tell you it’s an easy job. I saw him there counting $10,000 before my eyes. I could have grabbed the sum in an instant without detection. Now don't be such a cold-footed quitter.” “Well, not exactly son, but I’m getting tired of being hounded like a dog by prison officials. I escaped once and I hate to try the game again. They will get you in the end. . . . ” “And give up a good job like this,” retorted Dan, pointing to a bottle that stood on the table. “That means $100,000 if we use it right. Why you'd never see one-tenth of that out West. Let us stick to it for six months, then we shall destroy our tools, hide the machine, burn the formula and drop out of sight completely to live in peace and safety in some remote corner of this big and wide country.” “It’s a big risk, but since you insist I might as well follow you to the last,” replied the old man, reluctantly. “Well said; tomorrow and not later we shall then begin with the City Bank. Let us go to bed and snatch out a few hours of sleep before we attempt the deed.” “By the way, have you painted the auto?” Why. slick as a whistle; and when I took a spin in the aeroplane you ought to see the people below rubbering in all directions to find whence came the rattling noise. It was some fun to watch those simps gazing upward to sight an aeroplane.” Well done, but I suppose you’ve read in tonight’s Times about the one-wheeled auto, the one-legged man and the invisible 62 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL aeroplane? It is attributed to the ghosts prowling about Broadway. Pinkerton Case and Sherlock Burns are trying to solve the mystery. Well, son, let us hope they don’t get us.” “Good night, pa, and remember the City Bank, tomorrow.” Six months had passed; New York was in a frenzy; robberies without end, all done in a most mysterious fashion. Lock and insurance companies were doing a large business. The poorer classes were barring their doors and windows with all imaginary contrivances; they stayed up at night and the little bit of sleep they did get was troubled by the constant fear of the invisible appearance of the ghosts. Pinkerton Case and Sherlock Burns had called in their assistance members of various detective agencies. The mystery remained unsolved. “Ghosts,” they explained, “were apparently the criminals; but where is the human being that can grapple with such supernatural agencies?” Mr. Case sat in his office greatly worried when the following note was handed into him: Mr. P. Case, Esq.: Not bragging, or meaning to blow my own horn, but I couldn’t resist the temptation to tell you that I am the one playing the antics of your so-called “Ghosts.” Catch me—if you can, you’ll have to go some, Pinky, old boy, to discover the “PERFECT WHITE.” Yours in mystery, DAN MEREDITH. “The ‘Perfect White,’ ‘Dan MeredithY’ muttered Pinkerton. “The fellow has got plenty of nerve to reveal his identity and yet feel perfectly out of our reach. I’ll have to consult with Burns and sec what all this means.” Five minutes later Pinkerton took the elevated. On alighting he was met on the platform by his friend, Sherlock Burns. “Say, Burns, take a look at this,” said Pinkerton as the two walked up the street. “Just a minute, Case,” broke in Burns, as they sat down in the spacious office on which lay a large ledger. Let us see; here A PERFECT WHITE 63 are the Ms., Melburn—Mendel—Mensen—Mercer. Ah! here we are—Dan Meredith, escaped from Sing Sing, June, 1908, wonderful genius and inventor, last heard of in New York, Feb. 3, 1913. “This must be our man,” exclaimed Pinkerton with excitement. “What’s the postmark on this envelope? ‘Hoboken.’ Why, that’s where he probably resides. Pull out the directory, Burns, and see in the classified ads for inventors, whether there is such a man that lives in Hoboken.” “Let us see. Why, here is one: ‘Daniel Meredith, chemist, 7056, 56th Ave.’ Good heavens, it must be our Meredith.” Ten minutes later the two detectives were spinning along underground through the New York subway towards Hoboken. “Come on, Burns, here is our street.” As they emerged into the open air, Burns’ curiosity was aroused by a shrill, youthful voice: “EXTRA! All about the new robbery! Dan Meredith is captured!” Burns handed his penny and in spite of the rain which was pouring in torrents, scanned with frenzied excitement the first page of his paper: “Dan Meredith captured but escapes this morning at 7:00 a. m. The alarm at Douglas Detective Agency rang for Rickenburg’s Dry Goods store. Two officers had hurried to the scene and caught Dan Meredith dripping wet. The officers found the safe blown up and the automatic fire extinguisher going full blast. Meredith was taken to the Tombs but refused to make any statement. An elderly gentleman by the name of White was allowed to visit him. Soon White disappeared and the jailer entering the cell discovered that Meredith had also made his escape safe. His means of escape are a puzzle. The only clue to his disappearance was a note left in the cell by Meredith, which read: ‘The PERFECT WHITE did it.’ One thing sure is that the old man’s name whom they allowed to visit Meredith was ‘White,’ and this White is a clever individual.” “Well Case. said Burns, as he threw the paper away, “our bird has flown, let us turn back.” The sky was clearing and the rain had stopped. On their way to the metropolis they learned 64 SEATTLE COLLEGE AXXCAL that some strange machine had been sighted along the Hudson. The belief that its discovery might afford sufficient explanation for the antics of the supposed ghosts was now gaining ground. A few hours later Case and Burns were traveling at an amazing speed north of New York. On flew the machine above their heads, but faster and faster raced an auto along the western bank of the lordly Hudson. The roadway was now high above the river and Case kept his eye on the plane ahead of them. They sped along through many a mile of rich woodland. “Stop!” shouted Case to the driver, as he watched the aeroplane make a sudden volt in the air and shoot downward in a direct line upon the hill. They rushed to the spot. There in front of them on the knoll of a steep cliff, some 500 feet above the river, stood two men. At the sight of the detectives the two men prepared to let themselves down with their machine by means of a rope. But Burns reached the place in time to grab the elderly man and fling him with a jerk upon the grass. Meanwhile the other, quick and alert, slid down the rope and was already dangling a few hundred feet below when a shot was heard. The fugitive tumbled in a heap with his machine, to be dashed to pieces to the bottom of the precipice. The rope had snapped in twain. Dan Meredith and his mysterious machine had ceased to disturb the quiet slumbers of a population. The trial of an old man that had been the accomplice of the daring Meredith, in his sixteen robberies in the city of New York, brought a large crowd of curious listeners to the court room. The prosecuting attorney rose from his seat and read the charges. “Do you plead guilty or not guilty?” A profound silence reigned in the vast room. Looking towards the man that uttered the question the prisoner replied in a faltering voice that he was guilty. At a request from the I ‘It 101 ‘A It ATI) R V 1 K! � A I IT M ION T A PERFECT WHITE 65 judge to tell the story of his robberies he arose, and a hush fell upon the eager crowd. “It is now two years since Dan. my dear boy, forced upon me the tragic career that has wrecked his life and mine. “Say, pa, he said to me, I’ve got a new idea, I’ve invented a new paint, a paint of the color of air that will render objects invisible to the eye.’’ “Why, my son,” said I, “it is nigh impossible.” “Well, he replied, I figured it this way, that if a machine would be invented to mix, in proper proportion, nitrogen and oxygen, the essentials of air and turpentine together with some other substance known only to me, a real color, the color of air could be obtained.” “He went to work any way, constructed a machine of glass, surmounted with three huge spheres on top, full of the different elements. Two receptacles of turpentine and benzine were fastened to the sides and in the center was the large hexagonal mixing vessel. He spent four months in the construction of his machine and then one day, after a successful test, he realized that he had invented a “PERFECT WHITE.” Dan painted his aeroplane with the perfect white. We stole an automobile from a garage and painted it likewise. He soaked a couple of suits of clothes in the liquid, which when put on made us perfectly invisible. One day in the afternoon we drove in our painted togs down to the City Bank. Dan slipped into the bank unseen, entered the cashier’s cage and while the latter had his back turned towards the table Dan grabbed a $10,000 prize into a bag, and left the place unperceived. Unfortunately a chain hanging out of his pocket gave a rattling sound on the steps which Dan descended with haste. I suppose this is what has given rise to the theory of the criminal ghosts. Dan placed such confidence in his discovery that at times it made him careless. At one time he painted but one wheel of his auto, at other times he would paint one leg or one arm with his invisible compound and walk along the streets thus attired. We had amassed a considerable fortune by 66 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL means of our robberies but Dan grew more and more careless and even too defiant as the letter to Mr. Case showed. We tried one more robbery at the Rickenburg’s Dry Goods Store. There was one drawback to our paint. It was not waterproof. Dan entered the store, placed a charge of nitro in the safe and blew it up. lie was about ready to leave the place unseen, when the automatic fire sprinklers heated up by the explosives began to play on him and wash the paint off his clothes. He was detected and captured at once. I was allowed to visit him once, slipped a bottle of our paint in his hands and having daubed his striped suit with it, he managed to leave his cell unseen by the guards. We finally resolved to end our daring thievery and retire to some lone spot in the Adirondack Mountains. But, as the rain was pouring heavily, our invisible flight along the Hudson proved unsuccessful. The papers have told you how my poor boy Dan was killed. But the secret of the Perfect White has disappeared with him.” Xow was the mystery of the “Ghosts on Broadway” cleared up, New York was at last rid of its fright, the detective agencies earned a well needed respite, but the secret invention of the “PERFECT WHITE” shall never be revealed. ROGER J. COUGHLIN, ’17. iante ilntmrinns tlj? ilmtinr (Slaaa (Being an Extract from the Poet’s Wanderingsin Purgatory.) T length I came to a massive edifice on top of . which in broad emblazoned letters were the words: “Seattle College Alumni Industrial Association.” Entering, I found myself in a spacious hall on all sides of which were high black boards. In each corner were tables and at each table sat or stood a figure. In the center of the room was one that gazed intently on the book and muttered to himself. Anon a page turned, apparently of its own power, and in so doing brushed the reader’s nose, whereat he struggled vainly to free himself. Approaching I questioned him. First interview ; said he : I’m the fellow who used strategetics In trying to escape from Apolegctics, Often I said, this thesis is dull And my interest in it is nihil, it’s null, So this pesky book I think I’ll duck, And trust as it were a little to luck. Now—till time itself has come to an end O’er the Big Red Book I have got to bend: I’d sleep but the blasted pages turning Won’t let me satisfy even that yearning. And if for me you’ve got any sorrow I pray you get me a free day to-morrow. Onward continuing my way I came to a table on which papers were heaped in wildest confusion, and there—one who scrawled hieroglyphics of futurist design on sheet after sheet. Second interview; said he: I had a name away back there, In the mortal world so bright and fair But here I’m known as Mathematics Boss Combustor of quiz quadratics. Five thousand years I have got to stay To compute the value of x plus y, And I can’t understand what’n tarnation Is the matter with all my nice equations. I'm sure x is equal to all of my sorrow Gosh how I wish I were off for to-morrow. 68 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL Proceeding to the next corner, I came to one who sat watching a vessel of water; every now and then reaching out as if to grasp some elusive and imaginary thing. Third interview; said he: I’m trying to catch a molecule To prove that blamed kinetic rule; I’d succeed if they’d only abandon their notion Of cruising around with molecular motion: I’ve tried goin’ after them with a manometer Torecellian tube and Stewart speedometer, And I'd like to state as my final conclusion The atom is wholly a simple illusion. So when you get back from this world full of sorrow Just try and get me a free day to-morrow. At the black board in the next corner was one who wrote odd words and signs unintelligible, one and all unto my uninitiated gaze. Fourth interview; said he: If I were to search from here to Morrocco I’d not find the proof, fcrio by barocco; Yet still I must write in a thousand ways, These O propositions, these E’s and A’s. Before I am free I must solve the riddle, Of the Comprehension of the Middle. Ah! Ferison, woe is Bramantip And the days of Datisi are long, A holiday would do away with my sorrow Ergo I ought to get off for tomorrow. Finally, in the last corner, I approached a long deal topped desk, covered with jars, bottles and all the apparatus of the laboratory. About it moved one who unceasingly emptied evil-smelling substances into a large vat. Fifth interview; said he: I must reduce to hydroxidation The well-known water of crystalization. And prove the absence of all commodium For mixing together of water and sodium. For a thousand years I’ll here be a fixture, To poke with each kind of mechanical mixture. Before I leave I must find the oxide. Contained in hydrogen carbon sulphide, DANTE INTERVIEWS JUNIORS 69 And store away in a bottle of glass Each colorless, odorless, tasteless gas. Fain would I work the electrolysis Of every dad-binged hypothesis. IIoO represented my sorrow. T’will be joy supreme when I’m off tomorrow. CYRIL PEERENBOOM, ’15. 3Fatlrer Angelo F at any time you should happen to come in contact with any of the parishoners of a little church that lies almost hidden in one of the obscure corners of New York, you would very likely hear this story. More than fifty years ago, in a small town on the western coast of Italy, a little boy named Angelo was born. He lived there with his parents until he reached the age of fourteen, when a very contagious plague broke out in the town, taking away with it the lives of many, among whom were little Angelo’s father and mother. The poor boy was now left alone in the world as he was the only child of the family. He grieved very much the loss of his parents, although his pet monkey, his only treasure, made him good company and brightened things up by his comical antics. Grievance would not make a living for him and he and the monkey being the only survivors, he was left to make his own living. Angelo, like other young men, had a yearning for adventure, so his mind was already made up to see America, where so many of his fellow men had gone. For four months he worked hard until he had enough money to take him and his only friend, his monkey, to New York. About the middle of April he boarded a ship which to him seemed a floating city; but to the monkey it was a place of everlasting enjoyment, there being so many ladders and ropes by which he could escape after playing some trick on one of the passengers. Angelo’s trip was not very pleasant because almost every morning he would have to make an apology to some one on board, because his monkey had taken his clothing or had put some of the furniture in his berth. But they landed safe in New York after all and it was not such a grand place as he thought it would be. After wandering for many hours through the streets he came to the slums and here he met some of his own countrymen, who gave him his i FATHER ANGELO 71 supper and told him he might sleep with them until he got properly settled. But he never got properly settled because that night when they were all asleep the monkey took every one’s clothes but his master’s and fastened them to a telephone wire that could not be reached. Angelo wakened early next morning, as was his habit, to find that all his room-mates were minus their clothes, so he dressed rapidly and as he was leaving the building he could hear the threats that were coming to him from the frantic sleepers. But he and his monkey fled to a more remote vicinity where they would feel safe. The next morning he was on the streets playing different pieces of muisc on his only treasure, a violin, while his monkey climbed a telephone pole for amusement. At night he had made enough money to pay for his meals but he wanted to sleep, but no hotel or lodging house would let the monkey in. As he pushed his way up the street he came to a Catholic church. Here he stopped, and after convincing himself that it was the right church he entered and attended the evening services. When the services ended lie staved in the church and continued to stay after the doors were locked. Then stretching himself out on a seat to sleep, he left the monkey to jump around at will and amuse himself. The next morning he attended mass and then he went out on the noisy streets to earn a few coins with his violin. As each day came to a close he returned to this church to sleep. But alas! one night the church was locked and Angelo was left without a place to sleep, but after careful searching he found entrance under the church stairway, which provided good shelter from the sultry heat of summer. Angelo continued sleeping under the stairway but winter was slowly creeping on and he would soon have to find a new abode. This, as we shall see, was provided for him in a manner very unexpected. One night the monkey caught sight of a bat and he found great amusement in chasing it. The bat, however, flew up into the belltower of the church and the monkey followed right after it, of course the monkey could not fly but he climbed 72 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL up the rope that range the bell and while he was climbing he was ringing the church bell. There was no cause for ringing the bell at this time of night except for fire. It soon aroused the fire department as well as the priest, but to their amazement it was only a monkey. They caught the monkey and intended to take it with them, but Angelo told them his story and how the monkey was the only means by which he could earn a living. The pastor of the church, a kind-hearted old priest, was much amused at the occurrence and instead of chasing him away or scolding him, he took him to his house and provided a bed for him, and noticing at once the good qualities of the poor urchin, determined to care for him. Next morning Angelo awoke with the sun, intending to go to make more money that day in order to buy his bed as usual. But the good priest had also risen and instead of letting him go away, told him his intentions, and to his great delight, sent him away to school. And thus the young urchin grew up under the watchful care of the kind old priest, until at last, edified perhaps by his piety and goodness, he himself determined to follow in the footsteps of his aged benefactor. And now Angelo is remembered by the people as one of the kindest and most respected priests of that vicinity. EDWARD HASTINGS, 2d High. PROPOSED MOW BUILDINGS FOR SKATTLE COLLEGE AND ST. JOSEPH’S CHURCH With sore faint and faltering pace, Mid the storms of a northern sky, Trudging through a limitless space, For what goal dost thou sigh? Loudly roars the glooming gale, Yet searching the mountain high Thy pick echoes through the dale, For what gold dost thou sigh? But perchance the search all in vain; Lift thy gaze beyond the sky, Is there not gold more certain For which thou shouldst work and sigh? RAYMOND L. BEEZER, T7. GJhe Unflumr? nf the flrees FIE press is a subject in which everybody is interested. It may be observed from many viewpoints and invites serious study and comment. I shall make a few reflections on the power, the opportunity, the duty and the mission of the press. For the time is opportune for an inquiry into its relations to our complex civilization, for a narration of its wonderful influence upon the mind of the people, for some ethical account of it as one of the developments of our day and for some discussion of the effects it is producing and is likely to produce on the education of the people. For today when we can point to a person who is alert, superficial, ready and shallow, self confident and half informed, we may generally say: “There is the product of the daily newspaper.” The newspaper is not an isolated phenomenon, but the legitimate outcome of our age as much as our system of popular education. The newspaper is a private enterprise. Its object is to make money for its owner and to inform its readers. What ever the motive given out for starting a newspaper, expectation of profit is the real one, whether the publication be political, scientific or literary. Of course there are exceptional cases of newspapers devoted to ideas or causes without regard to profit, but these are so few as not to affect the rule. Even in such cases the sect, the party, the cause, the idea gets its newspaper, its organ, its advocate, only when some individual thinks he can see a pecuniary return in establishing it. This motive is not lower than that which leads people into any other occupation or profession. To make a living and to have a career is the original incentive in all cases. Even in a purely philanthropical enterprise the driving wheel that keeps it in motion for any length of time is the salary paid the working members. So powerful is this incentive that sometimes the wheel will continue to turn round when there is no grist to grind. It sometimes happens that the friction of the philanthropic machinery INFLUENCE OF THE PRESS 75 is so great that but very little power is transmitted to the object for which the machinery was made. The editor who has no high ideals, no intention of benefiting his fellowmen by his newspaper and uses it unscrupulously as a means of making money only, sinks to the level of the physician and the lawyer who have no higher conception of their profession than that they offer opportunities for getting money by appeals to credulity and by assisting in evasions of the law. We know that the excellence of a newspaper is not always measured by its profitableness. For some succeed by catering to the lowest tastes of respectable people, and to the prejudice, ignorance and passions of the lowest classes. Still it is generally true that if it does not pay its owner it is valueless to the public. The reasons for this are evident. The impecunious newspaper is unable to give its readers promptly the news, and able discussion of live topics, and still worse it cannot be independent. The journal that depends for its existence upon party favor or patronage or draws precarious support from puffing doubtful enterprises, are poor affairs and will in the long run come to grief. Some newspapers do succeed by sensationalism, as some preachers do; by a kind of quackery as some doctors do; by trimming and shifting to any momentary popular prejudice as some politicans do; by becoming the paid advocate of personal ambitition or a corporate enterprise as some lawyers do; but the newspaper becomes a real power when it is able on the basis of pecuniary independence to free itself from all such entanglements. It was a nebulous but suggestive remark that a newspaper occupies the borderland between literature and common sense. Literature it certainly is not, and to the popular mind it seems often too erratic and variable to be credited with the balance wheel of common sense, but it must have the charm of one and the steadiness and sagacity of the other or it will fail to please the public. The model editor has yet to appear. And notwithstanding the traditional reputation of certain editors in the past, they could not be called great editors by our standards, for the elements of modern journalism did not exist in their time. The 76 SEATTLE COLLEGE AXXUAL old newspaper was a broadside of stale news with a moral essay attached. Perhaps Benjamin Franklin, with our facilities, would have been very near the ideal editor. There was nothing he did not wish to know, and no one excelled him in ability to communicate to the average mind what he found out. He was what somebody said Carlyle was, and what an editor ought to be, a vernacular man. A cursory review of the general influence of the American press points to the fact that newspapers exercise an influence in America more far-reaching than in any other country. Archbishop Corrigan once remarked: “Nowhere in the world has the press found a larger and more receptive audience than on our shores. Here every one reads, every one, even the poorest, is rich enough to buy the daily papers; here more than elsewhere in our characteristic hurry to save time and labor we are willing to allow others to do our thinking and to serve us not only with the daily history of the world but with lines of thought and suggestions of conduct ready for use.” Herein lies the great power of the press, its power to suggest to the whole community what it should think and do. Herein lies the great opportunity of any newspaper to become a powerful influence in the body politic for good or for evil. There is danger as well as hope in this opportunity and the people must bear the consequences of the choice of a paper, whether it is devoted to the interest of the community or not. Owing to the high level of education and intelligence among the common people of this country, the average American is an inveterate newspaper reader. It is estimated that in the United States more than five billion copies of newspapers of all kinds are published annually. A glance at these figures is enough to convince one of the immense power the press may wield to the advantage or detriment of the nation. This power is enormously increased by the fact that it is the plain people that make up the great mass of the reading public and that it is to this group that the newspapers cater and appeal. A surprising number of people seek their theology, their politics, their creed from the news- INFLUENCE OF THE PRESS 77 papers. The newspaper is their source of knowledge and what it publishes they believe as gospel truth. The modern American newspaper is to the average American reader what the Grecian oracles at Delphi were to the ancient Greek. On reflecting upon these significant facts one is appalled at the influence of the press and startled by its opportunities to do harm. Great power always brings with it many temptations; the great man is always confronted by the hardest temptations, and so any organ that can control the thought and conduct of the people is face to face with temptation and the interest of the community is at stake. The newspaper overshadows every other educational agency. The lecture room, the public meeting, the pamphlet, the book are relatively unimportant, for whereas these reach but a small minority of the people at irregular intervals, the daily newspaper comes constantly in touch with the great masses who read it and depend upon it for their information and recreation. Ready-made opinions appeal to the people who have little time and less zeal for discussion. In the newspaper one is told what is going on throughout the universe, what men are thinking elsewhere and what is being done in every department of literature and art. So crowded is the reader with a mass of news and so pressed is he for time that he is often at a loss to give a connected account of the really important daily events, even after he has read a newspaper for an hour. His rapid review of the headlines and paragraphs muddles his brain and his extensive reading of the columns confuses him. As a result he is unable to digest, as it were, what he has read. i The misuse of the newspaper is quite a common thing. It is quite a frequent occurrence in these days for any one to pick up a newspaper and read columns of abuse of court judges. After an account of this, justice easily miscarries. Newspapers seem to feel that they can elect or reject a judge. They really can. and therein lies a very grave danger as well as a great evil. In most of our cities where there is a movement to wipe out graft and to bring grafters to justice, we find newspapers to whose interests it would be to set free the criminals hurling 78 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL abuse at the courts which are trying to do their duty and uphold law. Through the insidious means at their command the newspapers destroy the good will and confidence of the people. Judges are afraid to mete out justice under the circumstances, they are threatened with defeat at the next election, and if they disobey they are defeated. A good example of this lately happened in San Francisco. An attempt was being made to bring to justice men who had wilfully bribed and others who had been bribed, men who had misused public office and sold privileges to corrupt corporations. At first all the papers in the community were naturally on the side of good government and favored the prosecution of the criminals who were a disgrace to society and an insult to San Francisco. But the forces of the higher-ups and the powers-that-be were set in motion and a change of front was noticed among a few of the papers of the city. Through jealousy, pressure of the corporations, and through self-interest, they joined the forces of the grafters and commenced to abuse the prosecution which a few months before they had lauded. They tried to defeat justice. They used the same old tactics, they attacked the personal records of the prosecutors themselves, they unearthed past history and made the most of the little they could find by gross exaggeration. In this country, where there is freedom of the press, where newspapers seem to say and do as they please, paying no heed to the law or any moral restraint, there has grown up a loose conception of the responsibility of the press. Newspapers seem to consider themselves not bound by the same laws as other individuals. The journalist hides behind the newspaper and thinks he is protected from blame. It is hard to suggest a remedy for the newspaper of the present day. However, this much may be said, that if the character of the press is chiefly sensational and commercial, with only secondary place given to the cultural aspects of human thought, and if, as seems evident, the cause of this influence lies in the present character of the people, it is obvious that the INFLUENCE OF THE PRESS 79 only hope for improvement lies in the elevation of the standards of this people, and in emancipation from commercialism and its matter-of-fact leveling tendencies. CLAUDE W. MULLEN, ’14. 3or ymt knmu not the Bat? nor the iioor Six thousand years the sea’s dismal moan Hath sobbed wailing songs in the hollow shell; When will it sleep? To man ’tis unknown; God alone can tell. Six thousand years the tempest hath blown Over earth and sea, over hill and dell; When will it hush? To man ’tis unknown; God alone can tell. Six thousand years Father Time hath sown Content and despair as with magic spell; When will he cease? To man ’tis unknown; God alone can tell. Six thousand years Death hath claimed his own From the mortal clay where men’s souls dwell; When will he rest? To man ’tis unknown; God alone can tell. ROGER J. COUGHLIN, ’17. THE COLL EG 10 DRAMATIC SOCIETY IX All the Comforts of Home GUjurrit an rienr? ONE of the most agitated questions of the day, and one which is causing widespread interest and controversy, is the relation between Religion and Science, or more especially the relation between modern Science and the Catholic Church. Those people who let others do their thinking for them, or are content to receive their information from an infidel press, seem to have a confirmed impression that there is a conflict between the teaching of the Catholic Church and the truths of Science. They declare that in the light of scientific discoveries some of the Church’s dogmas have become untenable, and if she wishes to keep pace with the enlightenment of the times she must modify many of her dogmas and even forsake some of them altogether. Then, because the Church does not change her teaching so that it will conform with a passing hypothesis, which tomorrow will be scoffed at as absurd, they conclude that the Church is opposed to Science. Such conclusions are the outgrowth of ignorance and the offspring of malice. The inherent nature of the Church makes her the friend and guardian of Science. Her infallible doctrine, founded upon divine truth, can only be opposed to error. Now, true science is dependent upon the laws established by God for the government of the universe. The doctrine of the Church and the laws of Science are both unerring. They are both the decrees of God. and just as it is impossible for God to contradict or be opposed to Himself, so also it is impossible for the Church and true Science to be opposed or contradictory to each other. Here is where the difficulty lies. A distinction is seldom made by unthinking people between Science and the theories of scientists. Simply because some person who claims to be a scientist exploits an undemonstrated theory, it is not to be considered that this theory is an established law of Science. People will read where a certain scientist has declared that six million 82 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL years ago their ancestors swung from tree to tree, chattering in wild delight as they hurled cocoanuts at one another. Straightway these good people are convinced; Science, they say, has declared it so and it must be so. They seek no further proof of their ancient and simious ancestry; but without questioning give credence to those false scientists and declare that the Church is in error, that she is opposed to Science. If they would take the trouble to investigate for themselves, they would find that the Church has never laid down a law or published a decree which is in opposition to the true and proven laws of Science. Or rather that scientists have never proved a theory which in any way conflicts with the dogmas of the Church. Blinded by ignorance and hatred, the opponents of the Church cite Galileo's condemnation as ample proof of their position. They assert that the Church condemned Galileo’s doctrine, which is now generally accepted as true, and that therefore she is not only fallible, but has ever been antagonistic to the progress of Science. Here again these people are guilty of a grievous error. They mistake the comments and opinions of a few ecclesiastics for the infallible truths of the Church. It is true a few members of the hierarchy condemned Galileo’s doctrine. But this was by no means the condemnation of the Church. That is to say, the Pope by virtue of his infallibility did not declare the doctrine false. It was merely as a matter of expediency that these ecclesiastics suppressed Galileo’s theory. A number of Galileo's adherents were endeavoring to prove his theory by confuting the Scriptures. The condemnation was therefore passed not so much upon the doctrine itself as upon the manner of introduction. Nor were such cruelties inflicted upon Galileo as the enemies of the Church would lead us to believe he suffered. Far from being persecuted by the great Pope Urban VIII, Galileo received a life pension from him that he might better be able to continue his studies. The strongest refutation of the charges hurled against the Church lies in the number of brilliant scientific achievements which her faithful children have accomplished through her assistance. The pages of history replete with the discoveries which THE CHURCH AND SCIENCE 83 Catholics have made fully vindicate the Church of the calumnies heaped upon her. A Catholic has ever been foremost in every department of art and science. Geography owes its most important discoveries to devoted members of the Church. Christopher Columbus, sailing under the banner of the Cross, discovered this great country which we now inhabit. Its mountains, lakes and vast territories were explored by De Soto, La Salle and Champlain. Its greatest river was discovered by Father Marquette, a Jesuit missionary. Magellan first rounded Cape Horn, and it was his ship, the Santa Victoria, which was the first to effect the circumnavigation of the globe. To Pizarro and Cortez is due the exploration of the vast territories of Mexico and South America. But not alone in their exploration of the earth have Catholics been eminent. With their telescopes Catholic astronomers have explored the fathomless void of ether, mapping the course of the stars and counting their infinite number. Pope Gregory XIII, aided by the Catholic astronomers of Europe, was the one to regulate the clock of time by the calendar we now use. Galileo’s invention of the telescope gave astronomy a new impetus and not only aided that renowned scientist in his own researches, but was a means of the greatest assistance in the subsequent investigations of other. It was Nicholas Cusa, afterward Cardinal, who first called attention to the weakness of the Ptolemaic system; but it was reserved for Copernicus, an humble Polish priest, to develop the system which has since borne his name—a system which makes the sun and not the earth the center of the solar system. Contrary to the generally received impression the first to accept and promulgate the new doctrine were the dignitaries of the Church and the professors of the Catholic universities of Europe. The learned Jesuit, Christopher Clavius, defended it in Germany; an Augustinian friar proclaimed it in Spain; whilst the eminent scholar Pope Urban VIII, the great advocate of art and letters, gave it his patronage in Rome, which was then the center of Science as well as of Christendom. 84 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL Today history repeats itself. Ecclesiastics have charge of observatories in all parts of the world. One at Rome, another in China, one in Havana, Cuba, one in Washington, D. C., besides numerous others, are in their hands. And these ecclesiastics, as were their predecessors, are recognized as the greatest authorities on the science of astronomy. What is true of geography and astronomy is likewise true of every other science—Catholics have been their greatest masters. Arithmetic as a science owes its origin in Europe to the learned Gerbert. The first work on algebra was published in Venice in 1494 by a Franciscan monk. We are indebted to Galvani for the discovery of dynamical electricity and to Volta for the first battery. The one to raise the subject of dynamo-electricity to the dignity of a science was Ampere, a man as religious as he was remarkable for his great knowledge of science. It is unnecessary to enumerate what Catholics have done toward the advancement of the science of anatomy, physiology, surgery and clinics. History tells us that they have the first claim on our gratitudes for the benefits they have conferred on suffering humanity. It is sufficient to mention the names of Pascal and the illustrious Pasteur of our own day. These men, together with others of the same faith, are the brightest lights of science. 'Phe greatest accomplishments of science have been worked out within the pale of the Church. She has not been content merely to stand as a beacon light of truth to guide men’s reason to mighty triumph in science, but she has instituted schools to assist them in their studies. The Universities of Oxford, Cambridge. Salamanca and all the renowned seats of learning which Europe boasts, were founded through the wisdom and munificence of Catholic princes and prelates. Judging by what she has done for the advancement of civilization and the diffusion of knowledge, the Church is the sole possessor of the sceptre of science in the whole of Christendom. It has been her unceasing effort to advance the cause of learning. THE CHURCH AND SCIENCE 85 She has nothing to fear from scientific progress, but much to gain. Every new conquest of science is a new argument to confirm the truth of her divine teaching. In the words of the constitution of the Vatican Council: “The Church recognizes that these truths come from God, the author of science, and should through their proper use with the'assistance of His grace, lead t0 God’” WILLIAM P. O’CONNELL, ’14. A (graduates team IGIIT has spread her mantle over the earth and the little city of G--is buried in slumber. But there is one who, unlike the others, has not retired to rest; he sits alone at a window of the G-----College, and amid the darkness of uncer- tainty he is trying to penetrate his future. On the following day he is to leave college and set forth on the sea of active life. At last, overcome by weariness, his head dropped on his hands and he fell into a deep sleep. He dreamed, and in his dream there appeared two beautiful figures. The first was a beautiful virgin, arrayed in a white garment without a single ornament to enhance her wondrous beauty. She pointed with her hand to a road which she seemed to entreat him to take. He glanced at the path and observed that it was rocky, that there were little streams and big streams to be crossed, that there were huge precipices and high mountains to be climbed, but at the end of this path he discovered a beautiful garden covered with flowers and trees; pleasant streams wound in and out among the bushes and trees, sprinkling each plant with fine spray and giving drink to the thirsty animals who sought its refreshing coolness. Nature had given generously to this land. Turning away for an instant, he looked at the other figure; she, too. was beautiful, but around her eyes were black rings which showed the effect of dissipation. She was clothed in a garment of varied hues and her neck was adorned with gaudy ornaments. In her hand she held a sapphire, with which she pointed to a wide, smooth path having its borders planted with the most exquisite flowers; there was an indescribable charm about the place; but he could not see the end of the way, for at that point where the path seemed to curve there were two large rose trees which entirely concealed the remainder of that alluring road. At length, the voice of the first figure said: “My name is Virtue; the path which I wish you to travel is certainly rocky; but consider the reward which awaits you.” The second figure A GRADUATE'S DREAM 87 then spoke and said: “My name is Pleasure; follow the path to which I point and whilst traveling through you shall have no troubles and every enjoyment shall be yours.” After thinking a while, he concluded that it was much easier to walk in Pleasure’s path, and was about to step into it when he was arrested by the voice of Virtue. “Look, cried she, and at that moment one of the rose trees which had concealed the extremity of the grove fell, and a dark abyss was exposed to his view. He turned away and looked around for Virtue, but both figures had disappeared and he found himself in his room in the G------- College with the full rays of the rising sun shining in his face. He left college that day, having graduated with the highest honors and entered on the duties of a new life. Some thirty years later John Michael sat back in his big leather rocking-chair, a retired physician of means. The peace and gentle comfort of an exquisite country home spread their charms around him. He heeded their invitation to indulge in the luxury of a reverie. The pages of his past career were opened to him for inspection, and every step and circumstance of the journey that led to his present prosperity were carefully scanned, even from care-free boyhood to the chair in which he now reclined in leisured ease. But standing in relief above every other incident in his career was the eve of graduation. As he stood once more in fancy on the very entrance of life’s journey, he saw Virtue beckoning him to take the steep and rocky path on which she stood. Pleasure, on the other hand, with bland, seductive smile invited him to take the broad, smooth, rose-scented way on which she glided in pleasant ease. Her appeal was on the verge of triumph when the voice of Virtue attracted his attention. “Look,” cried Virtue, “the rose tree that concealed from your view the conclusion of Pleasure’s pathway has fallen, and now from this eminence on which I stand you may see a yawning abyss into which no living thing can venture and live. His heart went out in gratitude to Virtue for this warning and his feet swiftly sought the rugged way she directed him to take. “Per aspera ad astra. he whispers to himself. The 88 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL less stirring events of his life are passed in rapid review, and at last the contest of shaping a career is over, and at this hour he sits in his rocker, tasting the peace that follows a virtuous struggle. But from the treasured past no face looks upon him that is half so dear as the face of Virtue, and in the halls of memory no voice rings softer music than the voice of her that cautioned him away from the pathway of pleasure and destruc- tl0n' JOHN G. CARROLL, 4th High. THE COLLEGE ORCHESTRA • Stye OJormt Solution T the time of the following incident I was living at my summer home in Batesville, Independence county, Arkansas. The town is small, possessing a population of about two thousand inhabitants, four police, one Justice of the Peace and a tri-weekly newspaper, published on Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Needless to note, the surrounding district is farming land, and to this town the farmers bring their produce to have it shipped down the White river. I can hardly express the sickening sensation that passed through my body when, on Friday morning, July 13, 19----, the quiet streets rang with the words “Extra!” “Extra!” For when an extra edition of the “Journal” is published in that town it always contains some frightful news. I jumped to the window and whistled for the newsboy. The publishing company had outdone themselves. Written in red ink “a la Hearst” fashion were the words “Great Murder Committed on J. Ronyon’s Ranch. Murderers Escape.” The item read as follows: “A most foul murder was committed last night at J. Ronyon’s ranch. John Philips, a highly respected farm hand, was found slain near the windmill. Heavy rains since then have removed every trace of the footprints that might lead to the discovery of the perpetrators of this deed. “The deputy sheriffs and constables throughout the neighboring country have been informed. Besides this several bodies of men have gone out in search and it is hoped that some clew will be forthcoming at an early date. “The coroners have held a post-mortem examination and arc unanimous on two points, i. e. that the murder was commit ted by more than one and solely for the sake of revenge. The awful fractures of the skull point to the first, and the fact that a gold watch was found on his person proves the latter.” I read the article again. 90 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL Ah! here, thought I, is a case for my friend Mr. Hendricks. This worthy friend of mine had quit the secret service some fifteen years before this, because, as he said, murderers of the present day were their own detectives. Whether he really meant that I cannot say, but certain it is that he never failed in any case he undertook. I ran to the phone, called up “long distance,” and within three minutes was in communication with Hendricks. He agreed to undertake the solution of the case, for the sole reason that the facts seemed to be scarce. As I was of good standing among the people of the outlying districts, having had considerable practice among them as doctor, I had no difficulty in persuading them to give Mr. Hendricks a free hand in the present case. Though forty miles lay between his home and the ranch, my friend was not tardy, for just as the clock in the hallway struck eight my friend’s auto stopped at the gate. I rushed out to meet him, offered him the clipping, but he refused it, saying he had read it over several times on the way. “Anything besides what is here?” he asked, pointing to the paper. “No,” said I. “I have inquired, but can secure no more details.” “Have you examined the body?” “No, I preferred to wait for you.” “Well,” said he, after a short silence, “had I met more cases of this sort when I was younger I should never have forsaken my profession.” We walked leisurely over to the windmill, where a large crowd of men were gathered. “Yes, as usual,” said he, “they have destroyed what little vestiges of a clew there may have been by all this tramping. When will men have sense?” THE CORRECT SOLUTION 91 He did not go immediately to the body of the dead man, but walked about the windmill at least twice, evidently without any success. He saw where the body had lain. There was some blood on the planking, but here, too, the rain had done its work. We now went to one of the outer houses, where the body lay on the floor covered with a sheet. “Examine the top of the head carefully, will you,” said he. When I arose he stooped down, and after the most minute examination I had ever seen him make, he arose with great anxiety on his face, I thought. “What do you make of it, doctor?” “Firstly,” said he, “it took some tremendous blow to inflict such a wound; secondly, it must have been inflicted by some instrument with a flat surface.” “I see your experience as interne in the hospital was of some assistance to you.” He then asked to be shown to the man’s room. It was an ordinary room like that of the other hands, situated at the extreme end of a long, dark hallway. The room was neatly adorned, and one could see at a glance that the occupant was very regular in his habits. “Here is his revolver,” I remarked. “I guess he did not think he would need it last night when he went out. My friend made no reply. At length he spoke in a rather meditative mood: “Strange —a young man—gets up at night—half dresses—goes to the windmill—in the morning he is found dead with his skull crushed in. “Come, fellows,” and he addressed several workmen who were standing at the door. “Don’t you know anything about this Philips?” “A mighty fine fellow that Philips,” spoke up one. “Never annoyed any one, never went to town except to church, never 92 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL drank or used any bad language during all the time I have been with him.” “Say, mister, spoke up another, and he made his way into the room, “what I am going to tell you doesn’t amount to anything, but I'll give it to you, anyhow. “About four months ago I returned from town about 2 o’clock in the morning, and coming down this hallway I heard something. I stood still and lit a match to see who it was. Sure enough, it was Philips. “He had a peculiar look in his eyes, although I know he was all right, for, as Bill just said, Philips never took anything. “When he passed by I heard him mutter ‘Fifty-four dollars and soon again I caught the words ‘Third story; can’t make it.’ “I didn’t know what he was talking about, but laughed at him and went to my room.” The detective was intensely interested all the time, and when the man finished he said: “My friend, had you kept that incident to yourself you would have done a great injustice to the people of this neighborhood. How much pay did Philips receive?” he asked, hastily. “Seventy-five and board,” replied one. “Best paid hand on farm.” “Mr. Ronyon kept his money?” “Yes,” was the answer. “Of course he always kept some few dollars in his room.” “How much was found in his room today?” was the next question. “That’s another sticker, replied one who seemed to be the spokesman. “Only four dollars in cash.” The detective looked piqued. “If you gentlemen will step outside, my friend and I shall examine the room thoroughly. “Strange,” said he, after examining several articles. “Just as soon as I get a small thread of this tangle, it breaks. “Ah! what’s this?” He had opened a small box and found several discarded articles. The present remark regarded an THE CORRECT SOLUTION 93 empty medicine bottle which had been put aside two or three days before. He removed the cork and sniffed several times. “Excuse me for a while, doctor ' and he went out. “What does he want with that bottle?” thought I. “There is no connection between a murdered man and a medicine bottle.” 1 continued ransacking for half an hour or more and was beginning to get discouraged when a sharp rap came at the door and a workman stepped in. “Mr. Hendricks would like to see you. He is over at Mr. Ronyon’s house.” “What’s up?” I asked, somewhat excited. “Nothing at all. He is sitting on the porch and wants you to come over and join him.” Hendricks had always kept me guessing at what he was going to do next, so I calmed down and walked over to the house. When within speaking distance he said: “Sorry, doctor, but you’ll have to wait around about two more hours before I can clear up this case.” I was puzzled. He saw it and came to my help. “I heartily dislike to keep anything from you, dear doctor, but as this is probably my last case I wish to bring it to a grand climax. You don’t mind for this one occasion, do you?” '‘Certainly not, provided you have the correct solution, but which I am sorry to say I doubt.” “Do you?” he asked, somewhat sharply. It was twenty minutes after one, while all were seated around under the shade trees, that the phone bell rang violently several times. In another moment a servant came to the door and said: “Mr. Hendricks, you are wanted at the phone.” lie went and remained away at least a quarter of an hour. When he returned his face beamed with delight. “Come, fellows, got some good news for you. We had better go over to the spot where the death occurred.” On arriving he turned and addressed the deputy sheriff. “Mr. Officer, as soon as you can, you had better call in your 94 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL posses and inform the sheriff that it is useless to hunt for the murderers of this unfortunate man.” “Unless you produce some more evident facts than your mere saying it. 1 shall not do anything of the kind,” said the deputy sheriff. “I believe I have as many facts connected with this case as you.” “Then you should have found the solution to the case,” replied the detective, haughtily. “The man was not killed, let me tell you that, nor did he commit suicide, but his death was accidental.” “That’s for you to prove,” put in the deputy. “Very well, then, I shall,” and the detective smiled sarcastically. “Then for the facts: “A young man is found dead—instead of regular underwear, pajamas, over these his every-day clothes; in the pocket a watch, stopped at 2:10 o’clock, pocketbook missing; skull crushed as if by mighty blows; left wrist broken. These facts you all have. 1 find a man who has met this unfortunate fellow out of his room at 2 o’clock one morning, walking down the hallway. Though close friends, the latter does not address him. The former catches the words ‘Fifty-four dollars’ and ‘Third story; can’t make it.’ 1 also find an empty medicine bottle. On it are ‘Lowell’s Pharmacy, Glen and Windsor Sts., Xo. 28096.’ “Putting these facts together, I say that his death was accidental. “Concerning the ‘Fifty-four dollars’ I can only conjecture. When rather young, about eightee nor so, he stole that amount of money from some poor person. A sad fate came to the one from whom he stole it. death, poorhouse, insanity or something of the like. The man comes to his senses, or rather I should have said, repented, and desires to make some return. The sad fate of the robbed one causes the greatest havoc. The thought of being the ruination of another person gives him no rest. It has an effect on his sleep, he dreams about it, dreams become realistic and finally he becomes a somnambulist of the worst kind i. e., one that talks and walks about. THE CORRECT SOLUTION 95 “‘How this conclusion?’ you ask. The man is met in the hallway in one of those nightly perambulations. He is talking about the subject that is uppermost in his mind. ‘Fifty-four dollars.’ The ‘third story, can't make it,’ suggest either the place where he last saw the unfortunate one from whom he stole the money or the place where he stole the money. “This evidence would not have been sufficient. The medicine bottle finished it. I took the number and place, called up my friend Mr. Howard and asked him, first to find a city in which Glen street crossed Windsor street. This lie would find in Rand McNally’s latest atlas; secondly to wire to that city and find out if there was a drug store in that city named Jafton’s; thirdly, if successful in that, to inquire for what disease prescription No. 280% was used. “Nothing could be more successful. The city was found— Atlanta, Ga.; Jafton’s Pharmacy and the prescription. The brief answer is as follows.” And he took a slip of paper from his pocket: “‘For the most advanced state of somnambulism. To be taken at least three times a day.’ “You all noticed at what time his watch stopped, I dare say. Well, were any of you such night owls as I am, you would recall that at that same time a frightful crack of thunder and bright flash of lightning occurred. At that time the unfortunate man was up his ladder,” pointing to the ladder that goes up to the water tank, a height of eighty feet or more, “and suddenly awakening lost his balance and fell to this flooring.” “One thing is still missing, his pocketbook.” “If I secure that for you will you, Mr. Officer, will you grant that I have solved the case?” “Yes, Mr. Hendricks, that will put the finishing touches on it, although were it never found I firmly believe that you have the true story.” “Will one of you gentlemen climb up this ladder and look carefully at every cross beam? Will several of you also look carefully between those planks there?” 96 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL But scarcely had they started to remove the loose planks when the man on the ladder shouted, “I have it,” and not waiting to carry it down he dropped it. Hendricks caught it before it fell to the ground. When opened it was found to contain just fifty-four dollars and a small piece of paper on which there was the one word, “Restitution.” “Pardon my incredulity, Mr. Hendricks, you are a wizard;” and the deputy ran to the phone. ARNOLD R. BEEZER, 1st High. THK BA S1CB ALL SQUAD ■L ___-I Otoe pjantmn (Hatch HEN Johnny Callahan first took charge of the Braves it was composed mainly of men whose names ended with a “ski”; there was even one Cohn. Anyone of the other seven teams which formed the Pastime League would have been glad to have any one of these men. Johnny, however, would have been pleased if he could have traded a few' of them for an O’Toole or Kelly. Johnny held that there was but one nation that could play ball and that was none other than the Irish. He held this opinion in spite of the fact that Berg, a bow-legged Dutchman, had led the league in batting for the past fifteen years. Neither did it matter that this same Cohn, who as Johnny said, “near drove him nutty,” was the leading fielder of the league. On the opening day of the season, Johnny looked over his men disgustedly. There was Lajoie, a Frenchman, Hay and Campbell, Scotch, and Cohn, “a d-------d little Jew.” The sport- ing writers called them the best infield in the league. But for all that, Johnny was sick at heart. His eye roamed to the outfield and there he saw three sons of sunny Italy. His pitchers were all right and his two catchers were the pride of his heart. They wrere blessed with the names of Sullivan and O’Rourke. “O for two more like these.’’ sighed Johnny. In spite of the “bunch of foreigners,” Johnny’s team was out in front at the end of September, with but three weeks more to play. Johnny had slowdy traded first an Italian, then a Frenchman, until his team now resembled “an Irish Land League meeting.” There wras, however, one dark spot and that was Cohn, the little Jew, who occupied the shortstop’s position. It was a well-known fact that Johnny was trying to trade him for Mulligan, the star of the Reds. This he failed to do, for the manager of the Reds saw that the only way to overtake Callahan in the pennant race was for some of Johnny’s men to become disgruntled, but to add another Irishman to his ranks was playing right into his hands. 98 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL In spite of all his efforts Johnny’s team slowly began to “slump.” The last clay of the season found them but one-half game ahead of the Reds. When the two teams lined up for the final game of the year, Johnny sprang the surprise of the season by “benching” Cohn, bringing Flanigan in from center and putting “Red” Carrigan, a mere “kid” of eighteen, in center field. “Red” was tall; moreover, he was skinny. “Red” was not handsome—he was not even good looking, but “Red” had one redeeming feature and that was a smile. It was a smile, too, that one rarely sees. But when you do see it, you know that its owner is from the “Isle of Blarney.” In the first inning the Braves took the lead by shoving three runs over. After that, the game “lulled”; for apparently the Braves had it “cinched.” In the first of the seventh the crowd began to go home. At the beginning of the ninth, a cloud passed over the sun casting a gloom over the whole park. In the last of the ninth O’Carroll, the pitcher of the Braves, after striking out two men “blew,” allowing two singles, and to cap the climax gave Rollin a pass, filling the bases. Berg, who led the league in batting, now stood calmly facing the pitcher. On the first ball pitched, he took a mighty swing and hit solidly. The ball went sailing on a line straight over Carrigan’s head. It was a homer in any man’s league but Carrigan’s. “Red” ran back, jumped high into the air, reached out his hand and the ball disappeared. As “Red” ran through the exit a second later he saw Berg walk disgustedly to the bench. Twenty minutes later Johnny rushed up to “Red,” grabbed him by the hand and excitedly began to congratulate him on his wonderful “catch.” “By the way,” said Johnny, “give me that ball. I want it for a souvenir of the catch that won us the championship.” Red smiled one of those rare smiles and answered, “You’d better ask the groundkeeper.” Johnny walked into center field that night and picked up the ball from where it lav nestling against the fence. As he dropped it into his pocket, he winked up at the moon and said, “I’m glad his name is Carrigan.” MARK FT. HANNAN. I A ©ttf Okmiipraattott E is a rather stout man, my dentist, with a stecl-gray eye, a beardless upper lip and a lovely set of teeth, gold filled in front. It is the one regret of my life that I was not present when those fillings were put in. Surely it must have hurt—just a little bit. The other day I ran into my dentist's, so he might make his regular quarterly inspection of my teeth. Not having had an appointment, I was forced to linger for some time in an outer room, which as a card on the door informed me was the reception room of Dr. I. Pullen. After having spent some time here, endeavoring to calm myself by glancing over a pile of last year's magazines which lay scattered about in picturesque disorder on a large library table in the center of the room, I looked up to see my dentist motioning to me from the door of his private execution room. With my heart beating frantically at the rate of about three thousand beats per minute, I follow him in the door. Soon I am in the chair, a napkin under my chin, and a great steel crowbar—at least it feels like a crow-bar—digging away at an offending molar. My dentist has a very good little motto. It reads: First make the hole, then fill it. Prone beneath him, I listen to the work of demolition while I pass the time by counting the designs on the wall paper overhead. I know that the crow-bar is only a starter, a preliminary. “Nice weather we're having, isn’t it?” remarks the dentist. For very evident reasons I do not vouch a reply to this seemingly innocent remark. I merely smile pleasantly. And, gentle reader, have you ever tried to smile with your mouth wide open? The conversation de tempestate continues for some time. My dentist has very advanced ideas on the subject of weather and it is quite evident that President Wilson made a great mistake when he did not appoint my dentist as chief of the Weather 100 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL Bureau. Many bright things occur to me to say, but in the light of his wonderful knowledge, 1 pass them by as unworthy of notice. The crow-bar is now withdrawn and the dentist prepares for the real business of the engagement—the assault with his electric excavator. I have always felt that this machine would be extremely useful in the boring of mountain tunnels. Why the railroads have so long neglected to adopt it is a constant source of wonder to me. Here I am afforded a brief opportunity in which to display my ability as a brilliant conversationalist, but I utilize the time in sadly exploring with my tongue the place where my tooth had been. I am successful and finally locate the site. As far as I am able to judge, the dimensions of the excavation are about twelve by eighteen inches. 'I'he excavator is whirring hungrily. My dentist hastens to insert a venomous sting in its flexible tail and poises the devilish invention just above my head. Very reluctantly I open, my mouth. My tongue flees to safety. Now--------------? Whirr, whirr, whirr----------? “I was reading in this morning’s P.-I.,” resumes the dentist, “that the president is said to be changing front on the canal toll$ proposition.” Now here is a subject in which I am deeply interested and one upon which I pride myself as being able to put up a good argument. But today I am surpassing myself as a listener. Many witty replies pop into my head but I stifle them. Whirr, whirr, whirr----------? Each one as it warms to its work, waxes more malignant than its predecessor. I often wonder how the dentist picks them out so unerringly and with such devilish acumen. He never makes a mistake. 'I'he gradation is distinct, rapid and unfaltering. “I’m going out to Will River after some ducks next Sunday,” says the dentist. Behold, again we arc launched on the sparkling tide of social intercourse. Whirr, whirr, whirr----------? .1 ONE-SIDED CONVERSATION 101 Having discussed the morning paper, page by page, we are now deep in duck hunting. I enjoy swapping yarns, especially shooting yarns, with a sympathetic friend, and my eyes speak volumes. Whirr, whirr, whirr---------? The dentist smiles at my witty glances. Repartee follows repartee. I employ the brief respites in slipping my tongue from its leash and allowing it to plunge into the chasm strewn with ruined battlements. It brings back reports of damage done. Whirr, whirr, whirr---------? All the ducks are slaughtered. We are debating the Mexican question. I gurgle excitedly and both my eyes speak at once. But we are nearing the end of our tete-a-tete. The drill has finished its work and is digging in a desultory fashion, in the northeast corner where it started. Nothing is left now but a vacant lot. The time has come to build up what has been torn down. Contrary to general opinion, here at least it seems far easier to build up than to destroy. The task is done. “How much?” I query, as I indulge of free speech. jEr0ME R. once more in the luxury KELLY, 4th High. ©Ijr Nn'it anil Nmssitg nf a (Hlasstral lEfturatimt (Contributed by a Former Student of Seattle College) S the bright morning sun rises from its seat of obscurity slowly, and then more quickly dispelling the gloom and mist of a cold and sleeping world, crowning with golden glory the sentinel peaks of the dark, majestic, spectre-like hills, until at last, rapt in beauty and splendor, it comes fully forth in all its majesty to perform once more its function of giving warmth and light to the millions of the earth’s inhabitants that lie below shrouded in darkness, so does the young man rise up and go forth from the obscurity of a college, where he has labored earnestly to fit himself for his life’s work —that of proving in after life a guide to others, and model, faithful to his God and his religion, and lastly an honor and a glory to his Alma Mater. For indeed as the sun gives to the world light and heat in great abundance, so also will he, if he be well fitted with the proper requisites and moved on by a true spirit and ambition, be to the world a model and example, and give it that light and aid of which it stands so sadly in need. What a blessing, then, it is to all mankind, if he be well equipped with the proper instruments, which shall be to him as powerful swords, with which, if he be stirred up by a pure ambition and a filial love, he may successfully cope with the many enemies of human society and the great evils of the present day. For as the material world, being of itself enshrouded in darkness and deprived of all warmth, must needs depend upon some other and higher source for its light and heat, so also does the intellectual world of human kind lean for support and look for light to more potent sources than the common every-day human personage; knowledge, government, gentility and all the other requisites necessary for the perfect civilization and civil prosperity of a nation must flow into it from higher sources and through more golden channels than the mentally and morally NEED OF CLASSICAL EDUCATION 103 deficient. The world today, on the whole, and every individual nation needs men of ability, energy and education to form, as it were, its backbone and preserve it from the degradation and corruption which are the consequence of demoralization of principle, the loss of character in the people as a whole, neglect of religion and lack of proper education. Regret and discouragement must be the inevitable fruit of experience. For whether happy or sad be the result, whether the young man after a few years’ experience with the world and its ways, gives vent to thanksgiving and gratitude for a good, thorough education and a conscientious co-operation with the chances given him and the sacrifices of others for his sake, or whether, on the other hand, he must when it is all too late give himself up to useless lamentations—IT IS THE SAME SAD STORY, the inevitable result of sad experience. The world is all too full of the latter class, and if it were left to them, this poor, darkened world of ours would receive but little benefit from their existence. They would be suns that gave no light and having no rising and proving failures in their day they would neither have a setting, passing out of this world as something well rid of, having proved themselves in life perhaps a drawback to others and to themselves a burden of existence. Yet we know that the failures of many are owing altogether to their own neglect of duty or lack of ambition, and to the fault of those in whose charge they have been placed by God, who well able and having the means to give their children a good education, think it wise to deprive them of a college education in favor of what they call a good “business course,” simply because they themselves perhaps have made their way in life successful with little or no classical education, and encouraged in this by some particular instances of “college failures.” The world’s maxim is “whatever will lead to honor and wealth,” and this they follow totally neglecting what will lead not only to worldly success but also to morality and virtue. And thus they hope to obtain for their children perfect business prosperity in after life, but even in this they often in great measure fail, for there comes a time, and it generally comes sooner or later when 104 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL the partially educated man must acknowledge lie can go no further; he has, as it were, met with an insurmountable stone wall, and advancing so far, there he must remain. To prove the sentiments of successful and experienced business men on this subject, I will cite the example of an assertion made by a certain prominent and prosperous bank president: “Give me, he says, “the young man with a good classical education, though he may lack business experience, in preference to one that has perhaps the latter, but lacks the former and most necessary. For he will grasp things in a shorter time, and experience once attained, he will advance easily beyond his weaker and less educated competitor.” The reason for this is clear, for education is a whetstone that sharpens the wits, and enables to advance with great rapidity along the path of success. The less fortunate and less wise must stand by and see him with regret attain a level which with his limited store of information he can hardly ever hope to attain, especially when he has reached that age when the mind becomes less pliable and the memory dull. An example of this can be taken from a very common, familiar and instructive scene of human life, which many of us perhaps have seen enacted at one time or another. It is that of the man who goes to seek an honorable employment. Hopeful, eager, expectant, he enters the office of the manager to present himself as a candidate for the position in question. Yes, he is informed, there is a position open, but it is an important and responsible one and they must have a man well fitted and able for the work. He is badly in need of work and the chance before him fills him with delight, but he is examined, perhaps given a trial as to his ability—and turned down. Why? Because he has not had the education necessary, he lacks the necessary element and the training of mind required to fit him for superior work. Despondent and regretful he must pass by and see another and a younger man, perhaps in years, but older in knowledge and sharper of mind, owing to the blessing of his good education, receive the prize he coveted—he must watch him with regret,, attain a level which with his limited education he can hardly ever hope to attain. He must go then, in order to earn NEED OF CLASSICAL EDUCATION 105 his bread, and seek more menial work, for since he cannot use his brains for dollars he must use his muscle for cents. Let us hope, then, that the people of the present day, through the example and fruits of those who prove themselves a glory to their Alma Mater by manifesting the worth and value of a classical education, will learn to realize its many benefits and that through the good and thorough training of the mind and heart, their children may become worthy citizens of their country, prosperous and successful in life, and that the same polish of mind and whole being, which preserves them from becoming by crime and sloth a menace to their nation may also through virtue and industry keep them loyal to their religion and their God. tlj? Memory of Father £ ljeel|an Thy sun of life has set; For thee Eternity has dawned; And while on earth in sad regret Where’er thy name is found Now hangs the cold black crepe, Yet in our hearts burns true A love for thee we ere shall keep Aglow, nor need renew. As Heaven’s faintest star Arising in the East And slowly coming from afar In brightness is increased, So too, o priestly man. In low and humble place Thy long and weary road began— To end in God’s embrace. And thus each little thorn He bravely trampled on. As o’er life’s path so rough and lorn His guileless steps have gone. Is now become a rose In that bright crown above; He now in triumph o’er his foes Finds rest in Heaven’s love. GERARD R. BEEZER, ’17. potter fcepttitttttB in tbr Heat EON HOFFMAN found that he had been mistaken in opinions he had formed concerning life in the West. When he first arrived at his grand father’s extensive ranch, he had declared that all fun and excitement were over, and that he and his companion were destined to drag out a weary, monotonous existence, until the time came for them to return to the city. But they were disappointed in these opinions, as the following incident will show. One morning they had retired to their favorite haunt, “Gentle Bay,” as they termed it. This delightful spot is in the western part of Colorado and has received more than one name from casual visitors. On this particular morning the water in the bay was as calm and smooth as a polished mirror; not the tiniest ripple was to.be seen on its still surface. They sported and frolicked in the cool water and their merry shouts rang out on the still morning air. After playing their accustomed game, they partook of their ample lunch. By the time they had shot a few rabbits and chipmunks the twilight was beginning to fall. Accordingly they saddled their mounts and began their homeward journey. Galloping swiftly along the beaten path, they became conscious of a distant blur on the horizon. As they were both “tenderfeet” the thought of Indians and their bloody work was uppermost in their mind. • Therefore their natural impulse was to run. But remembering that some Indians are friendly and peaceable, they resolved to continue towards home. By this time the oncoming riders were quite near, and the boys shivered for the result of the meeting. Their rising fears were not allayed by the sounds of distant shots and for a moment they felt like turning around and fleeing. But youth is hopeful and they resolved to put on a bold face. They were, however, very anxious. As the regular column of horsemen swung into view the boys screamed with delight for it was a band of roystering cow- 108 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL boys. Leon, whose mind was taken up with novel literature, immediately formed the project of joining them, and in the course of time became skilled in the use of the lariat, the revolver and the trusty rifle. In a few years he had realized his dream. He was a full-fledged cowboy leading the wild life of the frontier. About fifty years ago in a small canon of the Sierra mountains a young man might be seen pursuing his way. This canon is covered by a dense undergrowth through which here and there may be seen a few stunted tamaracks, so broken and disjointed by age that they present to the imagination anything but the idea of foliage or shade. The young man in question is a pleasant, frank-looking fellow and his muscular frame gives evidence of a vigorous constitution. A heavy pack is securely fastened across his shoulders and in his hand he carries a rifle. At last he arrives at his humble dwelling—a rude log cabin that serves him as a home. With a feeling of peace he enters and slowly kindles a fire in the huge fireplace. Painfully conscious of the possible presence of marauding bands of Indians, he looks carefully to see that his arms are in good order. Having satisfied himself on this point, he lights his pipe and stretching himself on a hard couch he smokes silently. Suddenly a distant yell reaches his ears—the terrifying herald of approaching savages. He jumps from his bed, securely bars the entrance to the cabin and prepares himself for the attack. A few minutes later a whole tribe of painted warriors bound into the open adjoining his cabin. With clamorous shouts and diabolical grimaces they make their intentions only too evident. They have spied the smoke from afar, and are intent on plundering the place. But they pause for a moment doubtful how to proceed. Suddenly a young brave shoots a blazing arrow upon the thatched roof of the hut, and immediately a flame flares up. Soon the cabin is a mass of flames and the inmate helplessly PIONEER EXPERIENCES IN THE WEST 109 rushes out into the open. He is quickly seized and bound, a prisoner. He knows, of course, that he will be tortured and killed and his mind is sorely taxed in the endeavor to devise some means of escape. He has almost given up in despair when the story of Kenton and how he surprised the Indians flashes upon his mind. It is just noon when the hot sun is beating down on him. With a mighty effort he frees his pinioned arms and takes from his pocket a powerful magnifying glass. With it he causes the dry grass to catch fire and in an instant the ground is covered with quickly spreading flames. The Indians, filled with superstitious terror, flee, leaving him thankful for his miraculous escape' STEPHEN C. CROWLEY, 2nd High. A Stinging iSelntk? tn iEintstprial ligots (By Jerome Kelly, a Student of Fourth Year High, Seattle College) T was occasioned by the union of seven or eight Protestant congregations under the leadership of their ministers, gathered for the purpose of condemning President Wilson’s attendance at a Catholic church on Thanksgiving day. They premised their attack by proclaiming themselves lineal descendants of the Pilgrim Fathers and therefore appropriating to themselves the glory for the existence of freedom in this country. They condemned the Catholic church as being opposed to civil and religious liberty, fraternity and justice, which vicious attack brought forth the following sizzling reply from Mr. Kelly: Editor Tacoma Tribune, Tacoma, Wash. Dear Sir:—I was surprised, living as I do in a supposedly enlightened and progressive age, to find in Friday’s Tribune the resolutions which were adopted by several of the local protes-tant churches because, forsooth, our respected president has seen fit to attend a Thanksgiving service in a Roman Catholic church. That such resolutions should be adopted in our day is not only a matter of surprise, but is most assuredly an affair that must cause every true Christian to hang his head with shame. The persons who drew up those resolutions are out of place in our present-day civilization. They may well call themselves “descendants of the Pilgrims”; the blood-thirsty, women-burning Pilgrims, who have stained the pages of American history with the record of the terrible deaths which they meted out to those unfortunate women who dared to profess a religion other than that expounded by the “holy” Pilgrim “Fathers.” Have these people, who in their resolutions declare so emphatically that the Catholic church is opposed to civil liberty, religious liberty, fraternity and justice, ever opened an American history? Have they forgotten Barry, Sheridan, Meagher. REBUKE TO MINISTERIAL BIGOTS 111 Meade, Kearney, McDonough, Jackson, Mulligan, Kilpatrick, Shields, Corcoran, Montgomery, Sullivan, Hand, O’Brien, Thompson, Croghan and Moylan? Have they ever heard of the gallant Lafayette and the assistance that Catholic France rendered to the American revolution? Do they know that Lord Baltimore, a Roman Catholic, was the first governor to set up religious freedom in America? Yes, my dear editor, they have heard all these things, but they want to forget them. They want the American people to forget them. They want to revive the priest murderings and nun slaughterings of Know-Nothing days. Then they would be in their element. Then they would be in the height of their joy. From one end of this great country to the other the Protestant ministers are shrieking themselves hoarse over their dwindling congregations. The people of this country are forsaking the Protestant churches. The Protestant churches of America are decaying. They are dying. And is it any wonder that the people should forsake the churches where such rubbish as the above mentioned “resolutions” are dished up to them at a Thanksgiving service? George Washington celebrated the surrender of Cornwallis by attending mass in a Catholic church. He knew the great service which the Catholics had rendered to the revolution and was man enough to give testimony of that service. He said, “I hope Americans will not forget the patriotic part that the Catholics took in their revolution and the establishment of their government or the great help they received from Catholic France.” Let the bigots howl. They can but bring upon themselves that condemnation which they so righly deserve, for there is still ringing in the ears of the American people the words of the immortal Lincoln: “When the Know-Nothings get control of the constitution it will read: ‘All men are equal except negroes, foreigners and Catholics.’ When it comes to this I would prefer immigration to some country where they make no pretense of loving liberty. There despotism can be taken pure and without the base alloy of hypocrisy.” 112 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL President Wilson, like his predecessor, has proven himself a man by refusing to listen to the howls and threats of these “descendants of the Pilgrims ’ and he may rest assured that he has the hearty co-operation of every true American Christian in his fight on religious intolerance. Very truly yours, JEROME R. KELLY. P. S.—As the editor of a great daily, I suppose that, in the interest of the American “square deal,” you will print this communication. If, however, you are so one-sided and unfair as to refuse to publish it, you may discontinue my subscription at once, and you may rest assured that the Catholics of Tacoma will be advised of your action. J. R. K. 1508 Yakima Avenue. Tacoma, Wash. SiLM l) 11IV •IDM'l'IO.) MUX (gptty s hurt;--1B H3 -1313 MANY distinguished men boarded the train that left Washington, D. C., on the morning of November 18, 1863. The presence of senators, judges, heads of the various state departments, army and navy officers among the passengers, gives us to surmise that some important celebration is about to take place outside the capital. A man of a rugged appearance took his seat in the midst of these men of high position. Sadness was depicted on his face. It may have been due to his temperament, yet any one who realized the importance of the position he occupied and of the events that succeeded each other during his life, will readily understand the cause of his dejection. Yet he was treated with the utmost respect and deference by the rest of his party. While groups of men began to discuss the political conditions of the country, this man withdrew to a lone seat. He was soon lost in his own thoughts. He had to make a speech on the morrow. He was eager to write. But no writing material was on hand. He spies in a corner of the car a bit of paper that will serve his purpose. Searching his pockets he brings out a short stumpy pencil and with it begins to transcribe the thoughts which impress him at this time. For two complete hours did this scion of the pioneer and frontiersman remain absorbed in the subject of his speech, searching for thought. He looks across the aisle and there beholds that most famous orator of his time, Edward Everett. How this man could hold large audiences spell-bound with the flow of his eloquence is a matter of meditation to this child of obscure ancestry. Slipping the stray sheet covered with his figures and letters into one of his pockets he mingles with the crowd and takes part in the conversation for the rest of the journey. Gettysburg was reached at last and the train came to a full stop. The federal troops and a multitude of people were at the station to welcome the dignitaries from Washington. The event 114 SEATTLE COLL.EGE ANNUAL that brought them here was the dedication of the National cemetery. For two hours the assembled crowd listened to the fervid eloquence of Edward Everett. His utterances were received with repeated applause; carried away by the charm of his oratorical skill the people thought they had heard one of America’s most brilliant speakers. He had scarcely descended from the improvised platform when a tall, gaunt figure arose from the midst of the great officials. He mounted the platform and sadly gazed upon his listeners. A prolonged silence prevailed. Then a tremulous voice, pathetic, rang through the stillness of that famous battlefield where so many gallant soldiers had fallen. With deep feeling and in clear tones, with sorrow depicted on every feature the revered president of the United States delivered the short address which had been composed and written on the stray sheet. There was nothing elaborate in the delivery, his words were simple; “but he had condensed into a few sentences the innermost meaning of the struggle and the victory in the life of the nation.” Hardly any applause or sound of recognition greeted his words, only a deep drawn sigh caught the ear of the speaker as he prepared to leave the platform. Had his speech been a failure. ' It would seem so, for the crowd had not applauded their president. Yet two weeks later Abraham Lincoln heard these words from a dying confederate soldier: “That speech went indeed to the heart of every patriot. No one applauded but we might as well have tried to cheer the recitation of the Lord’s prayer which I would consider sacrilegious.” Years passed by and the American people began to realize that, in his speech pronounced on that immortal day at Gettysburg, Abraham Lincoln had voiced the deepest sympathy and love that any American citizen can have for the new-born country. That speech is known today wherever the English language is spoken. It expresses the sentiment of a tremendous struggle into the narrow compass of a few paragraphs and states in per- GETTYSBURG—1868-1913 115 feet simplicity the great task set before all, that this government of the people, and for the people, should not perish from the earth. Fifty years have passed since the bloody battle at Gettysburg, fifty years of progress and happy union for the American nation. Gettysburg is a scene of hurry and bustle. That national shrine, hallowed by the deeds of brave soldiery, by the memorable words of Abraham Lincoln and by the associations of a reunited people, is once more the rendezvous of great statesmen and of a vast concourse of people. Trainloads of venerable old grey-haired veterans from every state in the union assemble at Gettysburg. The first week of July, 1913, thousands of people arrived on this memorable battlefield. The whole nation is interested to see that the honored heroes of ’63 meet no obstacle in their way to accomplish that great reunion after half a century of peace. Gettysburg! Old crippled veterans feel the blood of youth course once more in their veins, as they step out of the train and march through the silent field that rang loud once with the roar of cannon and musket. The Blue and Grey, enemies once, meet as friends. What a pleasant contrast. Fifty years ago these men came here in the prime of life to defend on the field of battle with their own lives the standard they followed, to fight men of their race and blood. They then had left their homes, their relatives and wives, sorrow-stricken. But today they assemble on the plains of Gettysburg, bent with old age. to rally around the Stars and Stripes, the emblem of peace and union. They greet their old comrades in war, they revive old memories “with malice toward none; with charity for all striving to bind up the nation's wounds.” Dramatic scenes were in evidence on all sides when the old soldiers met each other. Thrilling were the recitals of war experiences each soldier had to tell, of skirmishes and the bloody charge of “Pickett men” on that momentous third day. This reunion will adorn one of the brightest pages of our American history. 116 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL Flying across the cornfields in his private car, a middle-aged gentleman sat reclining in a luxuriously equipped compartment with his secretary. The importance of the event he was to grace with his presence may offer an explanation for the deep meditation in which he was engaged. He was in all likelihood preparing in his mind the speech he would deliver to the crowd of men that were traveling in the same direction. Gettysburg! The president appears on the platform of his private car and is greeted by the multitude. The presidential party is then taken to the platform erected for the occasion and from which Woodrow Wilson was to address the assembled veterans. How different are the circumstances that favor the speaker from those that confronted Lincoln, fifty years ago. Yet the same note of patriotism, the same accents of deep feeling and hope for the future fell from the lips of the president. In his speech of July 4th, 1913, President Wilson said: “The day of our country’s life has but broadened into morning. Lift your eyes to the great tracts of life yet to be conquered in the interests of righteous peace, of that prosperity which lies in a people’s hearts and outlasts all wars and errors of men. Here is the nation God has builded by our hands. What shall we do with it? Who stands ready to act again and always in the spirit of this day of reunion and hope and patriotic fervor?” Wilson’s speech was but a broadening of that idea which Lincoln expressed fifty years ago, that “It is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated to the unfinished work which they who fought have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain ; that this nation under God shall have a new birth of freedom.” Lincoln and Wilson, these are the two great figures whose memories shall always be linked with the memories of two great patriotic events that have immortalized the field of Gettysburg, and recall to the minds of every American patriot the two inspiring dates—November, 1863. and July, 1913. THOMAS G. EARLES, ’17. (EnUpg? GUjrontrl? As we glance over the ten months of steady college work we recall with delight the various events which made our students’ life at Seattle College a pleasant and memorable one during the past year. We deem it necessary, as a fitting conclusion to the literary productions contained in our Annual, to record the principal happenings that may be of interest to the former students and to the friends of the college. The college opened Tuesday, September 2. We noticed several changes among the members of the faculty: Fr. F. J. Burke has assumed the office left vacant by Fr. Garrigan, as prefect of discipline, the latter having been called to Gonzaga University, Spokane, Wash., to fill the position of chaplain. Fr. James Hayes, lately of St. Ignatius College, San Francisco, is replacing Fr. William Driscoll as professor of philosophy. Fr. A. J. Coudeyre, a former teacher of Gonzaga University, is to guide the destinies of our rhetoricians. We noticed the absence of Fr. J. Taylor, who has been appointed to the office of prefect of studies in Los Angeles College. Mr. A. L. Schied, a graduate of Holy Cross College, Massachusetts, has been put in charge of the Preparatory Department owing to the resignation of Mr. E. J. Coen, who has assumed the management of the “Catholic Progress.” The opening of school was marked by following a beautiful and traditional custom in Catholic schools, namely, the celebration of the Holy Mass in honor of the Holy Ghost, to which all the faculty and students of the college attended in a body, to call down upon our school year the blessings of the Almighty. Columbus day was celebrated on Friday, October 10, as the holiday fell on Sunday. According to an established custom a committee of Knights of Columbus took charge COLUMBUS of the exercises in the college hall. Mr. John DAY. Kelly, a former student, presided. William P. O’Connell, 14, addressed a few words of welcome to the Knights and expressed the gratitude of the college for the annual scholarship donated by Seattle council K. of C. Then Mr. Kelly introduced the speaker of the occasion, Mr. R. 118 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL G. Cauthorn, an alumnus of Georgetown University, Washington, D. C. Mr. Cauthorn delivered an able eulogy of Columbus, reviewing the life and achievements of the great explorer, vividly portraying his early struggles and subsequent triumphs. Mr. Kelly presented to the college the annual scholarship. Rev. Father Carroll, our president, closed the exercises by announcing that the scholarship was awarded this year to Raymond Miller, ’17, as being judged by the faculty the one worthy of the distinction. He then declared a holiday for Monday in honor of Columbus. On November 4th, 1913, the student body of the college assembled for the first time in the new auditorium, which had just been completed, to listen to a pro-RECTOR’S DAY. gram given in honor of Father Rector on the occasion of his patronal feast. The auditorium was tastefully decorated with the various class pennants together with a display of the different colors of our sister colleges throughout the United States. In response to the congratulatory addresses delivered by the students of the College and High School Departments, P'ather Rector remarked that he fully appreciated the grateful greetings expressed on this occasion and that it was his earnest desire that the spirit of filial affection that should reign between the faculty and students of Seattle College, be cultivated from day to day as a distinctive feature of our college life. A full holiday was granted on the following day, the feast of St. Charles Borromeo. The following numbers of musical and literary exercises were on our program: Vocal Duet........................V. McNally and F. Needles Address—“The College”.....................W. O’Connell, 14 A Poem...................................C. Peeremboom, ’15 Violin Solo.......................................M. Earles Ave atque Salve................................L. Schorn, T6 English Ode....................................R. Beezer, T7 Cornet Solo....................................J. McIntyre Address—High School..............................M. Hannan Recitation........................................F. Needles Violin Solo.........................................E. Hart COLLEGE CHRONICLE 119 About one hundred members of the Sodality of the B. V. M. attended the eight o’clock Mass and went to Holy Communion, Monday, December 8th, in the THE FEAST OF THE College chapel. Rev. J. J. Hayes was IMMACULATE celebrant, John Earles and William CONCEPTION. O’Connell were acolytes. Appro- priate singing and music was rendered by the choir under the direction of Mr. Verhaaren, S. J. An earnest, impressive and instructive sermon was preached by Rev. A. J. Coudeyre, the principal point emphasized being the practice of the virtues which made the Blessed Virgin so pleasing to God, pointing out that knowledge and admiration in themselves are useless, if the practice is neglected. He congratulated those present on the demonstration of their devotion by their presence, and assured them that, if they remain faithful, they shall always experience the motherly care of our Lady of the Immaculate Conception. The regular meetings of the Sodality are held every Tuesday afternoon in the College chapel during which either an instruction is given by Rev. Fr. James Hayes, the Moderator, or the office of the B. V. is recited by the entire body of Sodalists. The elections held at the beginning of the school year resulted in the following appointments: William O’Connell, president; Claude Mullen, first assistant; John Dougherty, second assistant; Ray Beezer, secretary. The Holy Angels’ Sodality to which the majority of the Junior students are affiliated, under the direction of Rev. Fr. William Smith, deserves a word of commendation on the faithful attendance of the members at the exercises and meetings held during the past year. The following students were elected to the different offices of the Sodality: Angelo Manca, prefect; Thomas Hinchy, 1st assistant; Anthony Merz, 2nd assistant; James Ryan, secretary; Arnold Beezer, treasurer; Donald Burke, sacristan. A beautiful custom, which cannot fail to bring an increase 120 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL in the devotion to our Eucharistic Lord, has been introduced in Seattle College. Owing to the kind-THE DEVOTION OF ness of our bishop, the Right Rev. THE FORTY HOURS. Edward J. O’Dea, D. D., Seattle College will have its date among the various parishes and institutions of the diocese for the Forty Hours Devotion. Opening on 'Tuesday morning, March 18th, the adoration was kept up till the following Friday in the college chapel. The generosity of the students was manifest by their faithful attendance at the foot of the altar. All attended the morning Mass, and during the regular class sessions, eight students replaced each other for the space of twenty minutes spent in prayer and adoration before our Divine Lord. Very instructive sermons were preached at the close of each day by the Reverend Fathers James Hayes, Michael Hourican and William Smith. On Tuesday morning, March 31st, the Annual Retreat was opened with the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass in the college chapel. After the Mass, Father John C. Corbett, THE ANNUAL S. J., began his series of instructions to the RETREAT. assembled students. Father Corbett, a former professor of Seattle College, now one of the pastors at St. Leo’s, Tacoma, proved a truly interesting speaker. The easy, yet forceful and persuasive discourses which he delivered during the three days of our spiritual exercises won him the confidence and good will of the students. We derived from his words a better appreciation of Catholic truth and a greater desire for the practice of the virtues that ought to influence our lives. That the students responded generously to Father Corbett’s exhortations may be seen from the large attendance at the closing, Friday morning. The exercises of the retreat were then ended with the imparting of the Apostolic Blessing. COLLEGE CHRONICLE 121 The Dramatic Society presented “All the Comforts of Home” to a large audience, May 8th at the Press Club Theatre. The favorable comment made by “ALL THE COMFORTS critics, who have been present at the OF HOME.” several performances given by ama- teur actors in this theatre, reflects great credit on the society. The production elicited much applause from the audience. Rev. James Hayes, Mr. Peter Halpin, S. J., and all the actors, whose good will at the rehearsals made it possible to bring out the play after a brief preparation, are to be congratulated upon the success of the play. The cast: Mr. Pettibone............................................Mark Hannan Theodore, his son ....................................Maurice Sullivan Mr. Alfred Hastings, his nephew.................Lester Schorn Josiah Bender (of strict principles)..............John Earles Jack, his son..................................Roger Coughlin Mr. Tom McDowell (who gets half)......................William Mayer Mr. Victor Smythe, Theodore’s friend..................Raymond Beezer Mr. Frederic Dabney (a nervous wreck)......William O’Connell Mr. Judson Langhorne (a society star)...........John Mitchell Mr. Play well (a tragedian).....................Jerome Kelly Mr. Samuel McSnath (rather meddlesome)........Thomas Earles The leading characters in the play, Lester Schorn, William Mayer, John Earles, Roger Coughlin, cleverly sustained their part during the four acts. Their acting was true to nature as they seemed to be perfectly at home. The others in the cast deserve no little commendation, as they acquitted themselves creditably of their parts, thus contributing to the general success of the play. Between the acts Jerome Kelly gave vocal solos that merited encores. The audience seemed particularly pleased with the violin solo given by Mr. Edward Hart. But the interlude that scored a number of applauses was the 4th year High quartette, 122 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL composed of Charles Whims, John Carroll, Mark Hannan, and Emmet Coughlin. In the “Catholic Progress” of May 15th appeared the following account: The evening of Friday, May 8th, was the occasion of the playing of the farce-comedy “All the Comforts of Home” by the Dramatic Club of Seattle College before an audience which filled to overflowing the pretty theatre of the Press Club. The farce itself was full of clever dialogue and ridiculous situations and was well suited to the dramatic capabilities of the collegians. From the first word spoken to the final drop of the curtain the big audience was continually convulsed with laughter and applause, and curtain calls were hearty and frequent. To pick out any one as a star would be obviously unfair, as each member was well cast and brought out every possibility in his part. However, Jerome Kelly as Mr. Play well, the sinister-looking, long-haired, ranting tragedian, Wm. O’Connell as Dabney, a nervous wreck with pale face, halting gait, and trembling voice, and Wm. Mayer as Tom, the “hard” young gentleman who “got half,” were particularly funny and kept the audience in screams of merriment. Mark Hannan as the fussy and irascible Pettibone, and John Earles as Josiah Bender, a hot-tempered and suspicious father with strict principles came in for plenty of well-earned applause. Lester Schorn made a delightful Alfred Hastings, and Maurice Sullivan took the role of the gay young Theodore to perfection. John Mitchell was most happily cast as a young society man, and he looked and acted the part remarkably well. Roger Coughlin made a fine stage-struck “Jack,” Ray Beezer was good as the misjudged Victor, and Thomas Earles as the meddlesome Mr. McSnath was exceedingly funny. GemmilPs orchestra played selections during the intermissions and other numbers were given by Edward Hart, violinist, and Jerome Kelly, tenor. The College quartette, consisting of John Carroll, Charles Whims, Mark Hannan, and Emmet Cogh- COLLEGE CHRONICLE 123 lan in timely songs scored one of the biggest hits of the evening. A great deal of credit for the success of the production is due to the efficient and painstaking training given the young actors by the Rev. Father James J. Hayes, S. J. The college orchestra held its regular meeting at the opening of school, at which the following officers were elected: John Earles, president; Michael Earles, treas-THE ORCHESTRA, urer; James McIntyre, librarian; Edward Hart, secretary. Under the able direction of Mr. Verhaaren, S. J., the orchestra has made splendid progress and has enhanced the merit of all the entertainments during the year in the assembly room, with its music. The membership of the orchestra is not very large, but their motto is “Non Multa, sed Multum.,, The personnel is as follows: Edward Hart, George Dreaney, first violins; Vance Moriarity and Clinton Harrold, second violins; James McIntyre and Herbert Allen, cornets; John Earles, drums; William O. Mayer, piano. Michael Earles—“Mike,” who had been through the mill with Professor Lueben, played first violin until after Christmas, but suffered a breakdown from too much practice. The latest news of him is that he is at Sol Due Springs, recuperating. We all hope that he will be with us again next year. Edward Hart is now our main stay in the violins. He is young yet, but gives promise of becoming a brilliant player. Vance Moriarty, George Dreaney and Clinton Harrold wield the bows on the other violins,—yes and sometimes John P. Mitchell. Mitch, is not very consistent in coming to practice. However, we would not care if he payed all the fines he owes for not coming to practice, for then the coffers of the orchestra would be over-flowing. James McIntyre, who was with “Mike” and John Earles, through Professor Lueben’s mill, is on deck and better than ever. Herbert Allen is the latest acquisition in the orchestra, and let me tell you that James McIntyre and Herbert Allen can toot some harmony. John Earles holds forth with the drum sticks and foot pedals, and he is all there with 124 • SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL the goods. He boasts that he can outplay any one of the whole orchestra, and not without ground either—but no wonder, William Mayer, commonly known as “Bill'’ plays the piano—that is, he tries to play it, but between trying and doing there is a vast chasm. All the same he gets over the ivories in fair style, and if we except the way in which he executed the “Double Eagle” he has managed very well. The Senior Debating Society was organized this year under the able moderatorship of Rev. James Hayes. Its progress during the year has been gratifying both to THE SENIOR DE- the members and to the Rev. Moderator. BATING SOCIETY. Each month has seen several well prepared specimens of debating in the college auditorium. The principal session of the year was held on May 18th, the subject selected being “Resolved That the Free Tolls Clause of the Panama Canal Legislation Should be Repealed.” Messrs. John Dougherty, Cyril Peeremboom and William O’Connell upheld the affirmative side of the question; James McAteer, Leonard Reilly and Gerald Beezer the negative. The debate was carried on before the faculty and the students of the college and most of the speakers acquitted themselves remarkably in proposing their arguments. No decision was given as the judges were evenly divided. Throughout the year great interest has been manifested in the society and the various debates showed that a good number of the members were determined to derive ample benefit from this particular and most important branch of our college life. The success of the society reflects great merit upon our moderator, who has been most anxious to further public speaking and debating in the college curriculum. (Elass Nite SENIOR AND JUNIOR CLASSES Y clear concise logic we came to the conclusion that since the Juniors of last year are the Seniors of this year, they must certainly have passed the Scylla of written exams and the Charybdis of the oral ones without serious mishap. So here they are those superior beings who reside in the ethereal heights of mighty Olympus, the mighty Seniors. There’s William O’Connell who cons his prose and proses his cons, and waxes rich at the expense of Allen Blethen. He is the oldest living member of the college, bar none. He says that he ought to get a pension when he gets through with the college —he certainly deserves one. Then Claude Mullen, who came to the college when he was in the academics. He can talk for hours about ontology, biology, metaphysics, psychology, metempsychosis, nirvana, etc. But he still claims that there are no passive verbs, that they are all active. The 1914 Junior and Sophomore derby was pulled off with great eclat last June. Track and weather, horses and jockeys were in great form. Some Sophos who could not stand the hard grind of the training quarters and other things incident to the preparations for the great derby had dropped out after the midyear try-out. One went with joy, another with gladness and still another with madness. However these little incidents of the training camp cannot be avoided. So with a fair field and no favors, Father Taylor official starter, the 1914 derby was on. John Dougherty took the high hurdles of written examinations in most excellent form. Peerem-boom, although a fine rider had no time to get his steed in as fine a trim as he would have desired. Mayer and his nag both showed good form. Behrens’ horse could not get over the historical hurdle, but stumbled and killed poor Paul. O’Xeil and Earles had some unaccountable trouble with 126 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL their nags, but over most of the hurdles they managed to get in tolerable style. In the second day’s racing several things changed. Here were the real hurdles of oral examinations. Here too ’twas not superiority of nags but of the rider and the blind goodness ol chance. Earles and O’Xeil showed far more class in the way they took the high jumps. Dougherty and Peeremboom cleared fences in fine style. Mayer had some trouble with the last fence but his horse came up nobly to the Greek. Taken as a whole the class, horses and riders were all up to standard and the derby was a most enjoyable event—for the spectators. Having heard a few words of how our Sophos came out at the end of the year 1913 it is now in order to say a few words about their reassembling at the beginning of the present school year. School opened on the 3rd of September. John Earles, the old guard, the last of the old regime was on hand, smiling his Mona Lisa smile, the one he has been cultivating for the last 20 years. He hails from Milwaukee, originally, the town made famous by the rejuvenating waters. John must have imbibed some of those waters when he was an infant, for he doesn’t seem to grow old. His hobby is to have his nails so highly polished that he can see his cherubic face on each and every one of them. He is also some cartoonist and combined with these qualities he is also an artist on the drums, both trap and base, not bass. John Dougherty, “Doighty” for short, is the bright shining star of the Junior class. He has a mania for collecting medals, which he found around lying loose to adorn his husky chest. The one sorrow of his life is that he cannot again take the Bishop’s medal for conduct. He also indulges in the mournful and elevating amusement of wooing the gentle muse of poetry. You see the god Pan used pipes to woo the goddess of Poetry, and she became so enamoured with pipes that no one can gain her favor without bringing a pipe into play. Now John once tried to use Billy Mayer’s, and he almost died from the effects of CLASS NOTES 127 it; so until he learns to wield the gentle pipe he cannot hope to become much of a poet. Then there is Cyril—yes, Peeremboom is his other name. He came from the woods of Wisconsin, but you may recall that all our genius comes from the woods, and he is one of the A, 22 carat, dyed in the wool genius, and just as Dougherty has a mania for medals so also Cyril has a mania for books so much so that this has become our ordinary song: As the roses need the sunshine, As the peaches need the looks, As the Sophomores need the pony, So do we need books. Among other qualities he possesses the best memory outside the Jesuit order, but that’s not his fault but the fault of the prefects of discipline who gave him so many memory lines when he was in the academic classes. As for chemistry lie’s such a whizz that he redeems the rest of the class. 'I'he subtle argon, helion, crypton, Hydrogen and elements rare; They have no terrors, He makes no errors He’s surely a chemical bear. Then there is Theodore Kohls. He shows what ‘‘can be did” with irrigation and other appliances in vogue in the Yakima Valley, the valley that has no peer in the rest of the civilized world. He is commonly known as “Ted.” Among other qualities he possesses is the one of “reasoning Thusly.” But believe me with all these endearing charms he gets away with the first testimonials, and the high spots on the monthly billboard. Nobody can help liking Ted, but sometimes they find it a rather hard task—there is so much of him to like. Last but not the least, there is Bill Mayer. He told a certain professor that he’d rather be a live bone-head than a dead scholar. Bill blew in about two years ago from Yakima. The college still feels the effect of that blow. 5 npljmttjire anil Stofiljman (Elaasra We may not impress you with our numbers but as the saying goes “non numerantur sed ponderantur,” and when you’ve weighed our merits you will conclude that our trio of Sophomores will be worthy of Alma Mater. To form a closer bond of friendship and to create a better college and class spirit the students of Sophomore and Freshman were united into an association called “The United Classes of ’16 and ’17.” Under a well-chosen and competent official body this organization has proved a success. The officers elected were: Mr. Leonard Reilly, T6, presi- dent; Mr. Thomas Earles, ’17, vice-president; Mr. Raymond Miller, ’17, secretary; Mr. James McAteer, ’17, treasurer. On November 7th we were called upon to entertain the faculty and the student body of Seattle College in the college auditorium with a literary program. The merits of Canon Sheehan as a novelist and writer constituted the keynote of the various essays and poems read or spoken by the students of the united classes. Under the management of James McAteer, Lovell Spellmire, Ray Beezer and Morgan McBride the stage was neatly decorated with the class pennants and with a large size crayon portrait of Canon Patrick Sheehan, the work of our class artist Thomas Earles. Lester Schorn acted as chairman and after a few remarks in which he explained the nature of the entertainment, viz, to make their fellow students better acquainted with Canon Sheehan and his works, he introduced the first speaker, Leonard Reilly. Mr. Reilly’s subject was: “Canon Sheehan as a Priest and Writer.” Mr. J. Mitchell next spoke on the influence of Catholic literature. He showed in a forcible way how Canan Sheehan cultivated the ideal all through his life of conveying to his readers Catholic truths under the guise of fiction or poetry. Mr. Roger Coughlin reviewed the many contributions of Canon Sheehan to Catholic literature. Any one who listened to him will now read with delight the literary productions of the lately departed author. Mr. Ray Miller in a few well-chosen selections SOP If0MOPE AND FRESHMAN CLASSES 129 from the prolific pen of Father Sheehan brought out the ingenuity of the writer in the art of description. A poem entitled “In Memoriam” was read by one of the class poets, Mr. Gerald Beezer. Various musical selections were rendered by the Seattle College Orchestra under the direction of Mr. Verhaaren. The entertainment was brought to a close by some appropriate remarks by Rev. Father Carroll, our rector. He urged upon the students a better appreciation not only of the works of Canon Sheehan but of clean, wholesome literature in general. Look at our pictures and then you will understand why besides brain there was brawn enough in our class to turn out a football team capable of defeating every opponent not excepting the Senior-Junior aggregation. Our baseball nine easily subdued each contending team. The superb pitching of “Iron Man” Mitchell combined with air-tight fielding brought us out of the fray and made it for us a season of victories. With the termination of the mid-year examinations the united body of Sophomores and Freshmen held a class banquet, a happy termination indeed and a very convivial start for the second term of the scholastic year. Leonard Reilly, “the theologian,” stands prominent among the members who have resolved to make the whole year a success for the united classes. Lcn. is one of the highest livers in the city—he resides on a prominent spot of Beacon Hill. Lovell Spellmire wishes it to be known that his interest in mathematics shall not lag; his mind is brewing figures, figuring the large profits of his father's business. Lester Schorn, who hails from the land of sagebrush and apples, is the literateur of the class and delights in writing stories “currente calamo.” Ray and Gerald Beezer are the two prodigies of our crowd; in company with Roger Coughlin they may revive the happy trio of the “Poets of the Lake.” “General Full Expansion” Tom Earles is the successful manager of the class baseball team, secretary of the Senior Debating Society, treasurer of the Student Body Association, yet in spite of his many duties he finds time to prepare an illustrated edition of Homer's Iliad. That “Tom” is an important factor in the 130 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL progress of Seattle College may be seen from the following words taken from a local newspaper: “Mr. Thomas Earles returned Monday evening from Sol Due Springs, where he has been enjoying a much needed REST. Mr. Earles is a freshman at Seattle College and takes an active part in dramatics and athletics. The work of art on the cover of the ‘Seattle College Annual’ was designed by him. ‘Tom’ is as genial as he is obliging and as useful as both.” Any one can tell that Morgan McBride is Irish; he is a great booster of the A. O. H. The first edition of his famous oration on Robert Emmet is completely exhausted. James McAteer, our purser, looks after the pecuniary interest of the class and threatens to resign his position unless John Mitchell resolves to conform to the more frugal habits of the class. Then we have in our midst a scholar who made the class conspicuous by being awarded the distinction of winning the K. C. scholarship; we refer to our worthy secretary, Ray Miller. Snuirtlj fear ISitglj The term of 1913-14 has indeed been a busy one for the members of fourth high. Early in September the class assembled in its old room, all former members with the exception of a few being present, as also one new recruit. Class organization was soon perfected and the following officers elected: Robert Neilan, president; Mark Hannan, vice-president; James Hay, secretary and treasurer, all of whom served the first term without impeachment. Little is known about our first term president except that he was born while yet quite young and came to this country with the Pilgrim Fathers, the year of the big wind. He settled in Sedro-Woolley and up to a few years ago spent his time turning out a very creditable line of crochet work among the cabbages and turnips. He has been in this community for some time and is none the worse for it (which is not saying anything about the community). Towards the end of the first term we were called upon to entertain the faculty and student body at the reading of the testimonials on the first Friday, which we did in a thoroughly up-to-date manner, our program still being a matter of comment on the campus. At the beginning of the second term, elections were again held according to custom, with the following results: Jerome Kelly, president; Mark Hannan, vice-president; James Hay, treasurer and Emmet Coghlan, secretary. And now things began to happen in earnest. But before relating the series of live events which followed, it will not be amiss to say a few words concerning Mr. Kelly. He speaks vaguely of having come from a place called “Tacoma” but being unable to locate said place on any map (including those of China and Spanish East Africa), we have begun to doubt its existence. Whatever else may be said of him it can not be denied that he has sure got some crust, as is proven conclusively by the fact that he has appeared three days in succession on our heretofore peaceful and respectable campus, wearing a derby. And to make matters worse it was later reported that the awful thing was a Burnside! 132 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL On April 6th. Joe Molloy (for the sake of brevity we have omitted this distinguished member’s complete cognomen which is commonly believed to consist of thirty-six (36) separate and distinct titles) caused a sensation by arriving but five minutes late. On the following day Walkup was discovered with a copy of Judge behind his Cicero, (James is sure getting hard). It was rumored that Coghlan had a volume of the Encyclopedia Britannica behind his Xenophon but the foul imputation was proven to be absolutely false. And thus did justice score another triumph. The first big event of the season was the organizing of the class baseball team. “Chuck’’ W hims and Jerome Kelly were elected captain and manager respectively. This team was easily one of the best in the college, losing but one game which was a hard fought battle with Freshmen. Next in order might be mentioned the class outing, held early in May. A holiday having been declared, we took advantage of the respite from our daily grind to journey out into the country, where a very enjoyable day was spent by the entire class, including even Mr. Harrison Griswold, who was prevailed upon to lay aside his usual calm and dignified manner to such an extent as to indulge in the eating of a bag of peanuts. In the college play “All the Comforts of Home,” the class was ably represented by Mark Hannan and Jerome Kelly. As these two were the only members of the cast selected from the high school department, it reflected no little credit on the class. Mark Hannan is a polished and forceful actor and was much praised for his interpretation of the difficult character of Mr. Pettibone. Mr. Kelly was likewise highly commended for his rendition of the part of the scheming tragedian as well as for the manner in which he executed a very interesting vocal solo. One of the features of the play was the singing of popular songs by the Fourth High Quartette, which body of vocalists is composed of “Chuck Whims, Emmet Coghlan. Jack Carroll and Mark Hannan and when they began that beautiful little ballad entitled, “My Bonny Has Tuberculosis,” they brought FOURTH YEAR HIGH 133 down the house, not to mention diverse donations of over-ripe vegetables and antiquated hen fruit. James Hay, our honorable treasurer, was conspicuous at the performance by being in the company of a winsome young lady with whom he occupied a place in the front row. Some declared that “she” was his sister but this was emphatically denied by those who know him. (We never thought it of you James.) Another of the members “among those present” was Mr. Clinton Harrold, who hails from Ft. Ward, and who has added much to the effectiveness of the college orchestra of which his noiseless music is an important feature. A slight commotion was caused while the orchestra was playing the first number. Louis Kaufer having sat down suddenly did great damage to a can of P. A. in his left hip pocket and the cause of the catastrophe having been discovered, Louis was marched home by his irate parents and introduced to a shingle. That’s enough, you say? Well, all right, if you don’t like it you don’t have to read it. Turn over the page; we never asked you to read this page anyway, so there, Jack Dalton. (Hhirii fear ijigh Most of the braves of last year’s class returned in September for another ten months’ of diligent work in the various branches, some of which at least were entirely new to us and the mere mention of their names, almost caused us to falter in the good resolutions we had made for the coming year. We were glad to welcome to our midst two valuable additions to our class, Arthur Schichtl, and Urban Garrecht, both from North Yakima. So since last September at least, “North Yakima is on the map.” We naturally felt it difficult to settle down to study after the summer holidays. There was one particular branch of studies in which many showed great diligence, especially during the first two or three weeks, and although not on the schedule of studies mapped out for us, nevertheless, had we been allowed to continue, some of us at least would have specialized in that line. That branch is Geography, Geography—not Geometry mind you. There was not one of the many beautiful spots in and around Seattle, and they are numberless, which we did not visit in spirit during those first days of the new term. When unexpectedly called on for repetition, “Bishop” Long would inform the class that his thoughts were far from Caesar’s Gallic War, but that at that moment he was taking some vigorous exercise in rowing on the placid waters of Lake Samamish. During English class, Gerald Morris, in those brief but pleasant moments of abstraction scaled even to the summit of the craggy peaks of Mount Rainier, however it needed but the gentle voice of our teacher to recall him from his perilous mountaineering tasks, to the less romantic printed page before him. During that same English hour, it was Milton Curtis’ invariable custom to indulge in a delightful reverie, and to roam to his heart’s content through the wooded dells of Bainbridge Island, selecting a suitable place for camping here, and locating a good swimming place there, being meanwhile utterly forgetful of the vision of Sir Launfal or of the lucid explanations be- THIRD YEAR HIGH 135 mg given just then by his enterprising neighbor Laurence Dolle. As we said in the beginning, this lasted but a few weeks, now day dreams during class are a thing of the past, and we are dividing our time between Christian Doctrine, Geometry, English and Greek. An event of the school year in which Third Academic showed up very prominently was the class specimen. On an appointed day, generally the first Friday of each month, all the students assemble in the College Hall for a literary entertainment. Our turn came in January, and although we have to say so at the expense of our innate modesty, it was a decided success. In case you should doubt this statement of ours, we could furnish documentary evidence to prove it. There is still extant, a manuscript, almost illegible, which one day, alas! caught the vigilant eye of our teacher, as it was proceeding somewhere from the neighborhood of Leo Sullivan’s desk. It was a brief but pithy description of the event mentioned above. “The specimen came off last Friday, and although nobody fainted, it was a decided social success.” The papers were clear, well written, as well as being interesting and instructive. The subjects were based on our English classics. The program was as follows: Essay on the “Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner,” Louis Buty. Select passages from the “Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner,” Raymond Ouellette. Essay on the “Vision of Sir Launfal,” Arthur Schichtl. “Julius Caesar the Man and the Warrior,” George McAteer, and a recitation from Arnold’s Sohrab and Rustum, by William Long. Our class president, Hugh Devine Kelly, “You Divine Kelly,” introduced the different speakers, and upheld the reputation he has merited for elegance, grace and severity. Now we are nothing if not born debaters. In the Debating Society, all the members take great interest, and although all our debates gave fair specimens of our argumentative powers, those on the Canal Tolls Question, Abolishment of Capital Punishment, and Woman’s Suffrage were exceptionally good. Indeed so eloquent did some of .the speakers become during the 136 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL last named debate, that Hugh Kelly, our president, had to remind the budding orators of the rules of the house, and even threatened to request the services of our gentle but efficient sergeant-at-arms, Leo Sullivan. The speakers in favor of Woman’s Suffrage brought forth such convincing arguments as would have encouraged the most timid suffragette (if there are any such), while the opposing speakers poured forth such a cataract of eloquence on the heads of the unfortunate opponents, as would have made poor Demosthenes green with envy. Our class record would be incomplete did we not mention our athletic exploits. Although we have no strictly class team, still, we are well represented in the college teams, with plenty material in store for future reference. At present the name of our respected classmate, George McAteer, otherwise known by the gentle appellation of “Babe,” is sufficient to fill the hearts of his opponents on the diamond with fear and terror. But a member of our class Hugh Kelly has done more than any other student in the college, to make our soccer team a decided success, and it would not surprise us next year if we would have a soccer class team. Cronin f par The past year was a most successful one for the class of second year High. Our endeavors were scholarly rather than athletic; a certain Thomas Hinchy of our class developed into the star pitcher of the fast midget team. It also appears that Manca has rounded out a cracking nine from the material of our class. Kaufer also is the pick of the St. Joseph nine. Apart from these facts we took no laurels for outdoor sports. Thanks to the efforts of Father Hourican we crammed a lot of Algebra and Latin into our craniums. One of the features of the class was our debating society. At a class meeting the following boys were elected to office: Edward Hastings, president; Edward Shannon, secretary; Gerald Patten, treasurer; Thomas Hinchy, sergeant-at-arms. And say, maybe there wasn’t some scrappy debates in the vicinity of our room every Friday. The topics for discussion were well chosen and on the whole the society was a grand success. Weekly competitions in the various branches were carried on during the year. Our class was scheduled to give the specimen of class matter in May. The Rhetoric papers were well rendered and the class song, composed by Father Hourican, brought down the house. Our efforts in elocution were rewarded with good results, some of the boys blossomed into fair orators. Shannon and Nash were the stars in this branch. We had a class picture taken, but during the ordeal Garrick was the only one that refrained from wearing his usual smile. One noticeable event of the year is the fact that Garrick actually “whispered” in school. iFirst ffar ifiiglj Of all the brilliant classes that have brought glory to the Seattle College none can compare with the First High of 1914. It surely must have warmed the teacher’s heart on that first day of school when he saw such a conglomerated aggregation confided to his care. We numbered twenty-three at the beginning of the year. There is Beezer the student who always knows his lessons. They may be easy or hard but Beezer always gets them. Don’t know what we would do without him and his running mate, Gorman. Gorman is also our mathematical star. These two stand between our teacher and dark despair. There is Donohue, the silver-tongued orator—the Patrick Henrys are not all dead yet. Don’t know if we have any Blarney Stones in this country or not, but there is one thing sure, if he has not kissed it some of his ancestors did. We are proud of Donohue and predict for him a brilliant future. Then there is Barton, our “white hope.” We depend on him to hold up the honor of the class on the mat. If anybody needs laying out. Barton is the man to do the job, a la Gunboat Smith. Then there is Vincent McCoy, our band-box boy. We wonder how he manages to keep so neat and look so sweet. If cleanliness is next to godliness, then Vincent is mighty near the throne. We also boast a boy scout, Dreany. He also is a member of the College orchestra and holds up his end of the class work. And we must not fail to mention Eskildsen, our dreamy, blue-eyed baby. He dreams, and dreams, “A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the land and to pervade the very atmosphere.” Turenne represents the nobility. And we even have a gentleman among us in the person of Mr. Burke. Keating, the cartoonist, has added much to our joy of living by his clever sketches and witty remarks. Keating is a good fellow to have around to drive away the blues. Our teacher says, FIRST YEAR HIGH 139 “Keating guarantees to make you laugh or get your money back at the door.” There is Raymond McCoy who can roll off Latin by the yard. Sum, Esse, Fui, Futurus has no terrors for him. And our two future Carusos, Gibbons and Schubert, often charm us with their melodious voices. It is impossible to make special mention of all the brilliant stars of the class of 1914. We regret very much that we lost some of these. A few fell by the way side at the mid-year examinations. We took arithmetic at the beginning of the year and finished it in the first semester when we took algebra up in its place. The first part of the year was devoted to reviewing part of last year’s work and now we are settled down to the studies proper to the class. And another one who can not be forgotten is our faithful and efficient teacher Mr. Mullen, who has borne with our short comings and boyish pranks. Perhaps there is no position in school that demands higher qualities in a teacher than the first academic. Now for the first time we really enter the fields of knowledge and we feel that we are very fortunate in having so able a teacher. preparatory £ rhnnl As embryonic collegians, we are preparing ourselves for the great work that lies before us, as we are expected to be the philosophers and logicians of an enlightened age. e started the scholastic year with a large number but the acid test of the mid-year examinations and the approach of spring fever gradually thinned our ranks so that now we number only among the thirties. We can hardly claim much fame in any particular line as yet, but we predict wonderful achievements for some of our bright individual stars. Education is progressive. The development of the mind is the transcendent question of the day. Improvements are made in every department and little ‘‘Jack” Connell has taken cognizance of this advancement and it is a common occurrence to hear him give a dissertation in mathematics, on the Inductive and Deductive methods of solving problems. He is ably assisted by Henry Barton, known better by the sobriquet “Hank,” and Leo Ouellette. These noble assistants often disagree with their master and they permit a day or two to intervene in order to collect solutions and demonstrations to make their assertions true. Principals, superintendents, teachers everywhere have been wearied by the cry of business men, “The boys that you send us can’t spell”; but we can truthfully say that we have among us orthographists who can spell them all down, Vincent McNally and Vance Moriarty; and rest assured as a class the cry of the business men will not apply to us. We all know languages are contrivances for conveying thoughts from one person to another by means of sounds; often we boys emit sounds intending to convey no thoughts whatever, and then the voice of the master and teacher is heard, and realize why sounds are omitted. We cannot boast of anyone starring in the four branches of PREPAllA TORY SCHOOL 141 Orthography, Etymology, Syntax, Prosody, yet we do boast of luminaries in each. Space will not permit us to go into detail in our various branches. We still could give you history and tell you something of the world, but our idea is to make known the fact that we have “in potential coming orators, linguists, philosophers, scientists, and to all appearances journalists and most assuredly cartoonists. AtljUtira SOCCER HE American Amateur Football Association was born October 3, 1911, at a meeting held in New York City by the board of directors; this was the first great stride towards that popularity which soccer has now attained. For this happy result the soccer public have to thank Dr. G. R. Manning of New York City. No sooner was this fact made known to the public than Philadelphia asked to join the association. This city was only a forerunner of many, for in this manner it came like a great wave towards the Northwest and soon city leagues were formed. Officials now anticipate thje forming of state leagues in the Northwest. But before all this was accomplished, or even begun, we had two teams which played soccer in Seattle as early as 1902, but having only two teams, Soccorites had to be content to witness the same teams play Sunday after Sunday. These two pioneer teams arc now the present day Celtic and Seattle United. With the spread of the association seven teams have been organized. Fort Lawton soldiers from the 14th Infantry, Seattle Celtics, Seattle United, Black Diamond, Car-bonada, Franklin, Tacoma, Tacoma Nationals, together with minor teams, twenty-one grammar schools, with the prospect of the University of Washington and many of the high schools next season. Graduate Manager Horr, of the University of Washington, said that “he would go on record as saying that Soccer football would be fostered by the U. of W. if it could be brought about by his influence,” and I have no doubt that it will; for many of the young men belonging to that institution are soccer enthusiasts. These teams show how well soccer has taken in the Northwest. At this college we had four fine teams which were organized and managed by the Rev. F. Burke, S. J. Under this apt manager the teams progressed and gave fair promise for scientific soccer during the coming season. Their captains showed their appreciation of the game by the ATHLETICS 143 energetic manner with which they supervised their respective teams. I am only sorry that I cannot interest the young men of the upper classes in soccer, for to put it in soccer slang, we have fine material from which a fast and strong team could be organized. 1 don't mean to flatter you when I say this, for it is an undeniable fact. To be a good soccer player it is not necessary that a man have the wind of a camel, nor yet the weight of an elephant. Many people have the mistaken idea that soccer is a game that demands the last ounce of strength and likewise the last breath in the player’s body; it is not so, for once the game is learned thoroughly, the player will keep his place and each man will have his own part to play whether it be the defense or attack; it is not necessary that he should run all over the field—in fact it is prohibited, according to the laws of the game. The majority of the boys of the lower classes were enthusiastic over the new game, and many of them, viewed by the practiced eye of a soccer-ite, showed wonderful talent in that line. I have hopes of a strong team next season. Now that we have been the first college to have soccer we ought to be able to defeat all comers. I am sure we won’t be strangers in the field next year. The following teams were organized at the college, Celts, Rangers, Shamrocks and Thistles. Towards the close of the season the teams were heart and soul in the game. They played fine ball, their only fault was that of following the ball instead of keeping their positions. Fifteen games were played in all, four of these were played between the Rangers and the Celts, and on account of the evenness of the teams they took a draw for three games, but the fourth was decided in favor of the Rangers. It was a fast and well played game and both teams were very evenly matched. The Thistles and the Shamrocks played good football but their weak part was in their formation; they had good lines of defense but their forwards were lax in their positions, and this gave the defense on both sides more work, but withal I was and am highly pleased with the results of the first soccer league in Seattle College. HUGH D. KELLY, 3rd High. laskHball Basketball held the athletic stage for a short but meteoric period. Owing to the fact that the season got a late start, comparatively few games were played. In these, however, the collegians caged the ball for the long end of the score on all but one occasion. The fast K. of C. basketeers were the only ones to administer defeat to the college quintet. This defeat was soon avenged when in a return match the college boys struck their true stride and handed the Knights a severe drubbing. The showing of the college five throughout the season was the more remarkable, since it was the first season the college had attempted to organize a basketball team. The turnout was small, but the natural ability of the material coupled with determined practice and the fighting Seattle spirit put them in winning form. From this year's work, Basketball Manager J. Earles predicts a bright future for Seattle College in this branch of athletics. The college men to receive basketball letters were: Mullen (captain), and O’Connell, forwards; Kohls, center, and Gill and Molloy, guards. WILLIAM P. O’CONNELL, ’14. HasebaU At a meeting of the associated student body, William O’Connell was elected baseball manager. The members of the team elected in turn Claude Mullen as captain of the team for the season of 1914. The players turned out for practice early in March and Coach Scheid was well pleased with the work of both the infield and outfield. We opened the season with a game against the University of Washington on Denny Field. The game resulted in a 3 to 3 tie score, the University boys calling the game at the end of the ninth inning. The feature of the game was the pitching of Scheid for the College, who let the University men down with a few scattered hits and held the game well in hand at all stages. Batteries—Seattle College, Scheid and Gleason; University of Washington, Bryant, Morrell and Kerry. In the next game with Broadway High the College administered a defeat to their old rivals. For the last few years Broadway had managed to nose out a victory by a very small margin. This year’s game, however, was a complete and decisive victory for our team, leaving no doubt as to the relative strength of the two teams. From the outset the result of the game was never in doubt. Scheid, pitching for the College, was invincible. For the first four innings no Broadway man reached first base. Batteries—Seattle College, Scheid and Malloy; Broadway High, Binghaman and Pierce. The College took another very decisive victory from the Franklin High aggregation. The game was featureless, save for the air-tight ball played by the College men who won 10 to 3. On April 18th the game played against Stewart Holmes went to the College by the overwhelming score of 16 to 2. Scheid and Kohls divided the honors of the day, each collecting four hits out of their five times at bat. WILLIAM P. O’CONNELL. alU$t iKtiigrts On Friday, April 3rd, the College Midgets opened the baseball season and met their first adversary on the diamond. The Broadway High School Midgets came to cross bats with our second best aggregation of ball players. Before a large crowd of enthusiastic schoolmates the College boys held up their well-earned reputation by capturing the contest with little difficulty. Good pitching by Hinchy and Whims and good hitting at the right time won the game for the College. The Broadway boys threatened several times to do damage; errors by the College team were responsible for the former filling the bases, but they could not gather their hits .at the right time. By the end of the ninth inning seven tallies had crossed the home plate for the College, only three runs being scored by the High School boys. R. H. E. Broadway Midgets .............. 00200 1 00 0— 3 5 4 College Midgets ............... 1 02 0 1 3 00 x— 7 9 3 A Hard Fought Series On April 15th, the College won the first of a series of three games with the Queen Anne High School Midgets. The game was played on the College Campus. The Hill boys opened the game with a rush, taking the lead with two runs. The College came back in the third frame and started hitting the Queen Anne pitcher to all corners of the lot and captured thirteen runs in the next four innings before the High School boys had time to breathe. Our College boys showed a decided improvement in hitting and played a good game; no grandstand plays were made, but the team played good, steady baseball, the kind that wins, and the score ended with 13 to 7. R. H. E. Queen Anne Midgets.............. 2 0000 3 1 0 1— 7 7 4 College Midgets ................ 0 0 3 2 6 2 0 0 x—13 12 2 The second game was played on the Queen Anne playfield. The Quen Anne Midgets made up for their defeat in the first contest, and played a faultless game, handing our College team the short end of a 10 to 0 score. A fatal second spelled defeat COLLEGE MIDGETS 147 for the College. During that fatal spasm the Queen Anne team scored 7 of their runs. Our defeated heroes several times had the bases full but could not collect the runs. In the second inning errors by Donahue, G. McAteer and Neilan proved costly for the College. By winning this game the Queen Anne team evened up the series, necessitating a third game to be played. R. H. E. College Midgets .................. 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0- 0 2 7 Queen Anne Midgets................ 0 7 1 002 00 0—10 6 3 The third and final game with the Queen Anne High School was played Friday, May 15th, on the B. F. Day playfield, neutral grounds. The game was called at 4 o’clock. The high school started the fireworks in the first inning by chasing four runs across the home plate. But the College boys came back and for their half of the inning were contented with two runs. In the second the Queen Anne boys widened the gap by another run; for the next two innings the score remained the same, Hinchy retiring the Queen Anne batters in short order, while the College team threatened several times to score. The Queen Anne boys annexed three more runs in the fifth and sixth and three more in the eighth. Our heroes kept right along behind, gathering six more runs to their credit, but it was not enough to overcome the lead of the Queen Anne team and the game ended with the score of 11 to 8. R. H. E. Queen Anne Midgets................ 4 1 0 0 2 1 0 3 0—11 9 4 College Midgets .................. 2 0 0 0 0 2 1 3 0— 8 7 6 May 6th saw a close game between our heroes and the Franklin High School Midgets, on the latter’s diamond at Columbia playfield. For ten close innings the two teams battled, when at the end of the tenth the College Midgets put over the winning run. making the score 4 to 3. Whims pitched shut-out ball for the first seven innings, not letting an opponent reach second base, and fanning nine. In the beginning of the fourth Coghlan, the crack centerfielder of the College nine, cracked out a double and Egan followed his example bv converting the longest hit of the game into a three-bagger, scoring the runner from second. On a squeeze play on the part of G. McAteer, Egan 148 SEATTLE COLLEGE ANNUAL scored on the play for home. A sacrifice and a clean single over short scored another run for the College, making the third run of the inning. In the eighth McAteer let in two runs by a wild peg over third base and Franklin made a third run on a clean two-bagger over first base, scoring the runner on second. The score was then tied, 3 to 3, and with two down in the tenth frame Egan singled between second and short and stole second. Neilan broke up the ball ga'me with a double over first and Egan scored with the winning run. R. H. E. College Midgets ............. 000300000 1— 4 7 2 Franklin Midgets ....... 00 000 00 3 0 0— 3 4 1 On Saturday, May 2nd, the Tigers handed us the short end of a 4 to 1 score. It was one of the best games of the year. The game was called at 2 o’clock on the College Campus. The second inning was fatal for the College when two passes, a double and a single let in four runs. The College lacked their usual ability to deliver a hit in a pinch, for several innings we had the sacks crowded but the men died there for lack of a necessary hit. The College threatened to win the game in the eighth when McAteer, the first man up, hit for a single but was forced at second. Carroll hit for a double, putting a runner on third. Whims scored on a hit by Coghlan and on a wild throw by the opposing catcher. Carroll, in his endeavor to score failed to touch third base and was called out. R. H. E. Tigers .................i. 020000200—4 6 2 College Midgets............. 0000000 1 0— 1 4 1 Playing the Broadway Midgets for the second game, our College Midgets trimmed the former aggregation to the tune of 12 to 2. The latter played a masterly game, while their opponents were not up to their usual form. The College boys knocked two pitchers out of the box and the third was ready to retire at the end of he game, only after the College had gathered 15 hits. Hincliy pitched wonderful ball, fanning 14 men. R. H. E. 3 0 0 1 1 0 5 2 x—12 15 0 0 1 0 0 1 0 0 0 0— 2 3 5 College Midgets .. P.roadway Midgets APVKirriSKMIC.XTS 149 We recommend to your kind attention the following advertisers, who have aided materially in the publication of the 1914 “Seattle College Annual.” Show your appreciation of their assistance by patronizing them. 150 M)YKi:nsKM i: rs Brewin g djlaliin g Co. 'SeaitJe Wash. The choice of People who know. Add. to uour storage Life - H I . 1D YEUTJ SEM ESTS 151 Puget Sound Tent and Duck Co. 420 University Opp. Metropolitan Theatre Manufacturers of Tents, Awnings, Everything in Canvas Hoy’s Scout “Kook-Kit Go-light “Evergreen Silk Tents Sole Agents Kenyon Take-Down Houses BUNTE Marshmallows ALWAYS THE B est U ndoubtedly N one To Excel them li. R. SCHMOYER, Distributor SHOES MEN WOMEN CHILDREN DINHAM’STRiHLAU SHOEC? THIRD and UNION J7 DY S TOff ljrC Joseph R. Manning UNDERTAKER Main 484. 914-16 Howell Street Every first-class facility furnished lowest possible cost Equipped for Catholic Funerals I.ADY ATTENDANT at the 152 .i i)Yi-:i:risi-;Mi-:srs Compliments of the United Classes ’16-’17 Our first College Annual was i rr SC1 ’ � printed and bound by the I 101 SC OJ k) l6f' (l l SEATTLE'S LARGEST MODERN PRINTING ESTABLISHMENT HERMAN PRINTING BINDING CO ■ -------- 807-9-11 WESTERN AVE. MAIN 2244 ESPECIALLY EQUIPPED FOR CATALOG AND EDITION WORK O ADVERT I SEME STS 153 GOOD SOIL HANDY TO SEATTLE FOR ACREAGE on Lake Washington SEE Burke Farrar Incorporated ‘ ‘ Owners of Kirk land ’ ’ 203 NEW YORK BLOCK ONE TO FIVE ACRES EASY TERMS 154 ADlKimSKMKNTS American Savings Bank and Trust Company OFFICERS FRANK M. SULLIVAN. President MICHAEL EARLES. Vice-President G. K. BETTS, Cashier GEORGE RUSSELL. Secretary SEATTLE, U. S. A. Capital ami Surplus O ver Half a Million A l) 'ERT1SEMI'JX'j'S 155 Manca’s Cafe If you haven’t visited us as yet. your education is incomplete, as you are not “well up in good cooking. Remedy this defect as soon as possible. 108 COLUMBIA ST. SEATTLE Corona The Typewriter for personal use and particular people. Portable. folding, and weighs but six pounds. Price, $50.00, with traveling case. See it demonstrated at 712 Third Avenue, Lippy Building, and 1331 Fourth Avenue, P.-l. Building. ELLIOTT 5447 J. W. PETTINGER CO. Phone Elliott 2520 Murray Meat Company STALLS 2-3-5 AND 25-26, CORNER MARKET 1508-1510 Pike Place SEATTLE, WASH. As a Tonic and Flesh Builder NAPOLEON OLIVE OIL “The Cream of the Olive Is recommended by Physicians everywhere. Government inspected. Guaranteed pure. Imported exclusively by A. MAGNANO CO. Ills WtSItRK AVtNUt StAIIll 156 . i dye rnsKMKxrs re students of Catholic Schools and Colleges encouraged to read Catholic Papers? “In vain you will build churches, give missions, found schools—all your works all your efforts will be destroyed if you are not able to wield the defensive and offensive weapon of a loyal and sincere Catholic Press.”—Pope Pius X. DO YOU? Beezer Brothers Architects The fact that we have designed and supervised t h e construction of many of the largest and best constructed Church. School. Commercial a n 1 Resident ial Buildings i n the P a c i ii c X o r t h w e St. and h a v i n g every facility f o r practical and artistic efficiency is the basis on which we ask preferable consideration. 903-7 Northern Bank Bldg. Seattle. Wash. AD VERTISEM ESTS 157 “The Standard of Purity” Is an enviable distinction to be applied to any food. Yet at last year’s showing at the Chicago International Dairy Show the highest awards, in competition with the best milk in the United States, were given to MAPLEWOOD BRAND MILK That there is no better milk to be obtained in the country means much. It is another great safeguard to your health—and to the other members of your family. Xow that the warmer days are coming it is doubly important that you get the best obtainable milk. Just call up the dairy and have Maplewood Milk delivered at your house every morning. Pure Milk Dairy Co. Incorporated 1514 SEVENTH AVENUE Main 2545 Telephones Elliott 4344 158 ADVtiltriSEMKXrS Superior Laundry “THE SATISFACTORY LAUNDRY” 4Vl Per Cent ON SAVINGS ACCOUNTS Economy of expense clue to specializing in Sav- Shirts, 10c. 12 c. 15c We Do Wet Wash. 20 Pounds 50c. Phone: Hast 531 J. C. INGE, Manager ings allows this strictly Savings Dank to pay this rate. THE BANK FOR SAVINGS Cor. Third Ave. and Pike 353-54 Empire Building EVERSOLE OPTICALCO. Entrance on Second Avenue G. GANDLER Phone Main 3003 O. L. DELALOYE Seattle Tea and Coffee Company IMPORTERS TEAS, COFFEES AND SPICES Coffee Roasted Daily. Steel Cut and Chaffless Coffee Our Specialty Stall 217, Westlake Public Market, Seattle, Wash. ADVEItTJSKMESTS 159 .John .MeAteer, Pres. Dean Johnson, Vice-Pros. Lloyd B. Johnson, Sec. McAteer Shipbuilding Co., Inc. MARINE RAILWAY Construction and Repairs of Steel and Wooden Vessels Phone Sydney 35 329 WILLOW ST. Complete House Furnishers Pike St., at Fifth Ave. Telephone Main I72S Reference Any Bank in Seattle Sartori Company LOANS AND INVESTMENTS SEATTLE GRAIN DRYING CO. R. SARTORI, Secy, and Treas. 212-213 Collins Building: Seattle, Wash. H. P. SCANLON MAIN 1088 MILK BOTTLED ON FARM Cedar Grove Dairy Co. CATERS EXCLUSIVELY TO FAMILY TRADE 316 EAST PINE ST. SEATTLE 160 ADYERTISEMEKTS The HOLLYWOOD FARM Will Receive Orders Throughout the Season for FANCY MILK FED BROILERS AND EXTRA FANCY HOTHOUSE TOMATOES Call East 151 and your order will receive prompt attention City Office, 1418 TENTH AVENUE ASK Your Grocer for PAINTS AND VARNISHES That Defy the Weather Gorman’s BASS-HUETER PAINT CO. “Nothing Like It and “Zero Wholesale and Retail PAINTS, OILS AND VARNISH Salmon Two Stores 91 Spring- St. and 507 Union St. SEATTLE, WASH. ADYRRTliSEMEXTS 161 Madison St. Market and Grocery F. A. AUSMAN, Prop. Dealer in MEATS, GROCERIES, FRUITS AND VEGETABLES We Supply Meat and Groceries to Seattle College AUTO DELIVERY Telephone: East 3001 1019-1021 East Madison Street Auto Delivery to All Parts of City Jas. f. Keenan Co Inc. RELIABLE GROCERS 108 OCCIDENTAL AVE. PHONE. MAIN 950 FULL INFORMATION FURNISHED REGARDING SPECIAL EXCURSIONS AND VACATION TRIPS REGULAR SERVICE TO ALL PUGET SOUND POINTS Puget Sound Navigation Co. COLMAN DOCK SEATTLE 162 ADYEimSKMEXTX Telephone East 13 Harry Watson, Manager Ghmtpany Funeral Furnishings Corner of Broadway at Olive, Opposite Broadway High School Seattle, U. S. A. Competent Stenographers Always In Demand You will always be sure of a good position if you attend our school. W e place all of our students in first-class positions Success Shorthand School LIBERTY BLDG., Opposite Postofficc MAIN 3337 ELLIOTT 5011 Established 1SS9 RES. MAIN 2540 Soubrette and Cliorus Costumes Made to Order LUEBEN COSTUMING CO. A. LUEBEN . Manager Theatrical and Masquerade Costumes Largest Stock in the Northwest Costumes. Wigs, Tights, etc., of All Kinds to Rent. Bought and Sold 1923 THIRD AVENUE SEATTLE, WASH. Hadden Hall Building “The best of what the Japanese make Best” WE carry an endless assortment of attractive GIFT NOVELTIES, suitable for every occasion. JL 2nd at University. Established 1891 SEATTLE, WASH. ADVERT LMMEXTS 163 Phone Elliott 912 Phone Main 5827 Seattle Dairy Seattle Art Co. S. STRAY, Prop. Wholesale and Retail Pictures, Frames, Milk, Cream and Ice Cream Artists’ Supplies 2200 Ladd Place North G6S We Make Picture Frames Main Plant: 1415 EIGHTH AVENUE 501 UNION ST. Phone: Main 701 Erwin L. Weber, e. e. and m. e. L.M. Newman Co. CONSULTING AND DOMESTIC ENGINEER Groceries and Meats 723-4 Northern Bank Bldg. Telephone Main 230$ Seattle. Wash. 320 East Pike Street 1022 Metropolitan Bldg. Telephone Seymour 9$7 SEATTLE Vancouver, B. C. Wainwright EAST 805 McLeod, Inc. Snow Flake Hand General COAL Dealers Laundry and AGENTS. NEW HYDE COAL Pressing Yard and Scales R. R. AVE. AND BROAD ST. SEATTLE. WASH. Telephones: Elliott 121S Main 121$ 615-617 NORTH BROADWAY 164 ADYEltTlSEMESTS J. P. COLLINS A. A. COLLINS (EnUtna Urnthm Funeral Directors and Embaliners Telephone East 199 911-913 EAST PINE STREET, SEATTLE, WASH. Near Broadway When in Need of immtuutal Artirkis Call at our store before purchasing, as we are jobbers and importers and can supply you at most reasonable prices The Kaufer 1122 Third Avenue Phone Main 4173 Sunset, Main 295 John Coughlin Practical Plumber and Gasfitter Contractor for Steam and Hot Water Apparatus and Hot-Air Furnaces 312 Cherry St. Seattle ADYMiTlSEMEXTS 165 S. S. NORTHLAND S. S. AL-KI An Ideal Freight and Safe Passenger Service I between Puget Sound, British Columbia and S. E. Alaska SAILINGS EVERY 12 DAYS WRITE OR WIRE For Reservations and Sailing Schedules NORTHLAND STEAMSHIP COMPANY H. C. BRADFORD, Mgr. Office: Pier 4 Seattle, Wash. Phone: Main 5852 Compliments of Lowman Hanford Co. 166 ADVERTISEMENTS THE SPALDING CHAMPIONSHIP TENNIS BALL has met the approval of the most critical players Result: The Spalding 00H Tennis Ball is considered the best A. G. SPALDING BROS. 711 2nd Ave., Seattle, W ash. Hofius Steel and Equipment Co. M A NU FACT URKRS OF SWITCH MATERIAL FABRICATORS OF STRUCTURAL STEEL, RE-ENFORCING BARS Locomotives, Cars, Rails and Kastcnings, Track Tools PORTLAND, TACOMA, SEATTLE, SPOKANE AI)YEirn8KMKSTS 167 Seattle (Enllwj? Broadway and Madison Sts., Seattle, Wash. Founded 1892 Chartered 1898 'I'he Course of Studies is similar to that followed in the numerous other Jesuit Colleges throughout the United States. It is divided into two principal departments, the Collegiate and the Academic, to which is added a preparatory division for such as have not yet completed the grammar grades. I. The College Department furnishes the usual four-vear course of studies leading to the degree of Bachelor of Arts. It embraces the Senior, Junior, Sophomore and Freshman classes. The instruction consists in a systematic study of the Knglish, Latin and Greek Languages and Literatures. Higher Mathematics. Natural Sciences, History, Mental and Moral Philosophy, and an advneed course in religious instruction. II. The Academic or High School Department furnishes a four years’ course, so graded as to form a preparation for the College course. It embraces the study of Christian Doctrine, English, Latin. Greek, Algebra, Geometry, Modern History. Provision is also made for theCommercial Branches and Modern Languages as optional studies. The Preparatory or Grammar School Division corresponds about to the seventh and eighth grades of other schools, and covers all the studies usual in these classes. For Particulars Apply to THE REV. PRESIDENT. 916 E. Marion St.