St Genevieves Academy - Le Flambeau Yearbook (Asheville, NC)

 - Class of 1917

Page 46 of 128

 

St Genevieves Academy - Le Flambeau Yearbook (Asheville, NC) online collection, 1917 Edition, Page 46 of 128
Page 46 of 128



St Genevieves Academy - Le Flambeau Yearbook (Asheville, NC) online collection, 1917 Edition, Page 45
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St Genevieves Academy - Le Flambeau Yearbook (Asheville, NC) online collection, 1917 Edition, Page 47
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Page 46 text:

Jff 1 , X I , , my If, f 4 'I f I F!f7',77- X . ' ' ,' 1 I -We .f l f, , M 'ff ff it ' it f if ff 1 if 4 ff fff c'- Wffff ' . M5644 f ' I - 5f ff'Wf ff z 'f - cf mathematician, who with a Ph.D. de- gree, was at that moment teaching Geometry. The lights on the stage dimmed, then turned on again, revealing a slightly dif- ferent scene, the Senate Chamber at Washington. A large crowd was gath- ered. A man rose, bowed, and said, Gentlemen and ladies, it is my pleasure to introduce to you this evening Sena- tress Sweeney, who has been unani- mously elected as poetess for the com- position of our national war song. She will honor us by reading what she has composed. A stout, mannish-looking individual arose, unrolled a piece of pa- per and began to read a stirring poem,- Four score and seventy years ago We were not so, we were not sol Remember Washington, the brave, Who his grand country's life did save Remember Jefferson, the true, Who never fear of danger knew. Then let us on to war, my braves, And let us beat all cowardly knaves! At these words there was great cheering and as it continued I gazed in astonishment at my old class mate Georgie Sweeney, who had never been known to make a rhyme except by mis- take. She stood majestically on high, bowing to the applauding multitude, whose loud clapping gradually grew less, dying away with the scene. Again the lights blazed up, this time on a beautiful cathedral from which faint notes of an organ issued. A priest stood, a prayer book in his hand. Around the corner came a wedding pro- cession which wended its way up the aisle. In the midst came the bride, very young and girlishlooking. She paused at the altar, her husband-to-be beside her. The priest spoke, Virginis Ran- dolph, do you take this man Count Chas- seur d'Argent . . . So Virginia had married a count, and a French count at that! I only hoped she would remain as happy always as she appeared at that moment in the beautiful cathedral of Amiens. I What scene was this appearing? Evidently a large summer house. Palm trees were growing around it. Could it be in Africa? It must bel The inhabi- tants were certainly a contradiction to the proverb that Looks deceive, for there could be no doubt that they were Africans. It seemed to be a sort of school room in which were seated the said inhabitants, all of whom were grin- ning broadly, their black eyes gleaming in the half light. At one end stood the teacher. She was tall and fair. While trying to remember which of my former class mates she could be, my eyes fell on a sign attached to the front of the house on which, to my intense surprise, I read the words: Special French Lycee-Tuition Fif- ty Cocoanuts a Year. Taught by Miss Helen Gad-Bible Lessons Free. I was greatly astonished to discover that Helen had become a missionary. Just then one of the pupils spoke, Missy Gady, me a wanta toa parley toah Susy, and Helen's familiar voice replied, Silence, Mirandahl You must speak French! And you did not white- wash your face today! This scene shifted to a very different one, an office untidily strewn with pa- pers. At a large desk sat a short, stout man who had a large wart at the end of

Page 45 text:

MN -. KWJY-YM -af-Xgfflfi Y I, I I I f ' , am. .M yfyf fffwf , , W H .. .ffl+ if m'ff?fWWWWkfI!Z7fWW7WW' -f'r4'f7ffWMZW?f I . Class Prophecy T was Commencement Day. Partly asleep, for I was very tired from re- cent excitements, I listened to the words of the renowned Jesuit priest who was giving us graduates a talk. He congrat- ulated us on the play we had given the night before- As You Like It -in which I had played the part of Jaques. He then said, As a subject of my talk to you I shall take the words of this queer old philosopher, 'All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances' How true are these words! All the world's a stage on which each must play his part. 'Tis a stage on which is enacted the drama Life, and which has an audience with many critics. But who is the audience ?' Rather, who are the audiences? For there are two, one the world-the other God. The critic of God is your conscience. It judges not in accordance with the judgment of the world. You must choose for whom you will act for you cannot adjust your act- ing to please both! Choose your au- dience and- Here the priest's voice dwindled to an indistinct mumbling. Looking up, I saw nothing but a great, white mist rolling back and forth. Where had I been? What was this? I rubbed my eyes, thinking it would go away, but no! As I gazed, the bottom seemed to be condensing and rolling up in one large volume. I saw behind the clouds a great stage, on the front of which was written in large letters the word Life and underneath, Manager, Fate. A On this immense stage strange lights were thrown, making queer shad- ows about the scenery, illuminating only part of what should have been revealed and bringing to light many parts which would have looked better in the shadow. How strangely the lights are man- aged, I thought, as I heard a voice say- ing, These are the lights thrown on by the world. As you see, they are mostly wrong. Just then I descried a tall, ma- jestic figure in deep black. It was he who had been talking, and it was to an old man also in deep black with a long beard, who carried a scythe, that he spoke. Roll up the curtain, Father Time, that we may see what parts the graduates of 1917 are playing on the stage of Life. The old man shambled across the stage, pulled a cord which hung to one side, and a curtain rolled up. A familiar scene was being enacted, a class room in which eight or nine pupils were draw- ing geometrical figures on blackboards. Cn a rostrum sat the teacher reading Kant's Philosophy of Life. Suddenly she put down the book, rapped peremp- torily on the desk and said in a precise voice, The five minutes are up! Cease immediately! The tone had a familiar ring, but of so dim memory that I could not recall it. She wore a stiff white shirtwaist, a high collar with a purple and red cravat. Her hair was twisted into a small knot. As I was regarding this interesting figure, one of the stu- dents turned round and said, Please correct mine, Miss Merrimonf' And so it was! Elizabeth Merrimon, our bright



Page 47 text:

. X xv,-'fs' xii 'PWWR Wall? f f F., - 'f X . X-ff-ic I ffl - w-f- Af X- X-, A ' y4y.ff,,j i t 'IM 4 I I I ... MYWZ f' , . 1 1 M .W -Maltz.. . his nose. He possessed three strands of hair, the restof his head shining like a mirror, being the one spot in the room minus dust. At another desk sat an extremely thin woman whose figure was outlined in oblique angles. This personage, with her elbows on the desk, was regarding the ceiling while chewing vigorously at a pencil, when the small man turned round and said: Miss er-would you mind interpreting this letter for me? It is written in Sanscritf' Oh, certainly, said the angular lady, and having taken the epistle, swiftly read the entire contents in English. I And here are a few more in Ger- man, French, Greek, Hawaiian and Yiddish, said the small man. Thank you very much, Miss Er-? King, said the thin lady. Then I recognized Marion, who had always been such a good student in French. The lights on the stage went out and came on dimly. I saw a narrow, dark street filled with dirty children who were playing and quarreling before the rickety houses. Suddenly down the grimy street came a handsome lim- ousine which stopped before the most dilapidated building. A man alighted carrying two baskets loaded with pro- visions. Behind him came an elegantly dressed lady also carrying baskets. An unkempt woman emerged from the house and the lady stepped forward, saying, My good woman, I am bringing you some provisions. My name is Mrs. Rockefeller. Rockefeller, I wondered, who-? But just then she turned around and I recognized Elizabeth Chapman, our class president, now happily married, and a bountiful philanthropist. But what was this? A large room filled with all sorts of bottles, machin- ery, etc. Smoke seemed to be issuing from one corner. Why, it was a labora- tory! A figure in a long, white apron emerged from behind a counter, holding a flask in one hand and a dish in the other. This personage was mumbling while pouring the contents of the bottle into the dish. I caught the words, If this experiment turns out as I expect it to, I shall have discovered a new fact in science-namely, 'Gravity is caused by the attraction of all bodies to the earth.' The inverse to my theory has been proved, i. e., 'The cause of the attraction of all bodies to the earth is the force of gravityf Now my discovery will cause a sensation among learned scien- tists, and I shall become famous. While saying this, the scientist reached out for another bottle, poured three drops of its contents into the dish and began stirring. Suddenly there was a big report! A flame! The experimen- ter and several contents of the room emigrated towards the ceiling with a velocity which it would have been diffi- cult for the scientist to figure out, even in a more propitious moment. This seemed to contradict his theory of grav- itation and I wondered how this was meant to illustrate it, unless it was his consequent descent which, although rather swift, was certainly not as rapid as his ascension. Just then the door opened. People rushed in with loud ex- clamations, Oh, what has Professor Williams been doing? She will some

Suggestions in the St Genevieves Academy - Le Flambeau Yearbook (Asheville, NC) collection:

St Genevieves Academy - Le Flambeau Yearbook (Asheville, NC) online collection, 1917 Edition, Page 97

1917, pg 97

St Genevieves Academy - Le Flambeau Yearbook (Asheville, NC) online collection, 1917 Edition, Page 77

1917, pg 77

St Genevieves Academy - Le Flambeau Yearbook (Asheville, NC) online collection, 1917 Edition, Page 128

1917, pg 128

St Genevieves Academy - Le Flambeau Yearbook (Asheville, NC) online collection, 1917 Edition, Page 12

1917, pg 12

St Genevieves Academy - Le Flambeau Yearbook (Asheville, NC) online collection, 1917 Edition, Page 20

1917, pg 20

St Genevieves Academy - Le Flambeau Yearbook (Asheville, NC) online collection, 1917 Edition, Page 18

1917, pg 18


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