St Ignatius High School - Ignatius Yearbook (Chicago, IL)

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CAri6fm0z6 in by BEN HUDIK, '48 The snow tluttered gently As T Walked through the park it Was quiet and peaceful, The evening quite dark. Scores ot bright stars Slowly were born, And my soul Was inspired By thoughts ot that morn. Marys arms cradling Christ With Ioseph near by Was the picture l saw As l looked to the sky. 'Tis the gitt supreme To receive Him this Way- His body and blood On this Divine Day. 13

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CNE DAY TO LIVE lt was an April morning. The sun filtered through the blue curtains and the blue beams shone on the slumbering form of Frank Talbot. He soon rolled over, opened his eyes and lay there thinking of the day's tasks. Reluctantly he rose, opened his mouth to emit a long yawn, stretched his arms as though to throw off the remnants of his dream and began to wash and dress. Not having to work today, he strolled non- chalantly to the noisy little coffee shop on the corner to eat his breakfast. As he sat there sipping his coffee, he formulated his plans for the day. First he would make his way to the Gypsy's rooming house on Sev- enth Avenue, then he would go downtown to purchase some new clothing. Talbot, a very serious and superstitious young man, believed everything the Gypsy told him. He reveled in her predictions with the giddy joy of an adolescent. On the way he would buy an astrology book at the sub- way station to look up his horoscope. The stars had been indifferent toward him this week. At the ripe age of twenty-three Frank was one of the vast number of persons who con- duct their lives entirely according to fortune- tellers' predictions and the all-knowing stars. He smiled as he thought of the good things the Gypsy had whispered to him over her shining crystal ball. Finishing his breakfast, he made his way to the dingy, dirty, odoriferous rooming house section of Seventh Avenue, plodded along until he came to l3l3 and turned up the stairs as if by force of habit. Frank quickly disappeared into the darkened depths of the dwelling. Good morning, he said, as he closed the squeaky door behind him and slid silently into the chair opposite that of the old Gypsy. Her crafty eyes that shone forth from the wrinkled face sparkled with the anticipation of taking money from this gullible fool. Frank laid his hard-earned ten dollars on the table and at the sight of this the old Gypsy's eyes opened widely, then suddenly became dreamy and melancholy as though she were inhaling a whiff of opium. l-fer eyes turned slowly to the crystal ball, she looked into it and began to speak in a flow- ing voice. Quiet please, the spirits are trying to tell me something. Speak, O spirits, and tell me the future of this young man who sits be- fore me seeking knowledge . . . CShe lin- gered here to keep Frank in suspensel . . . of what is to occur in his life in times to come. What . . . ? Whats that you say about one day . . . ? No, it . . . yes! Frank Talbot has only one day to live. One day to live! One day to live. Frank stared wild-eyed at her, his skin chalk white, his teeth chattering violently. She continued, Tonight at 8:l'5 P. M. . . . beware of the man who knocks at your door. Frank jumped from his seat and bolted from the room as though snatched by an in- visible hand.