St Joseph Academy - Jomara Yearbook (Yakima, WA)

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Twenty-six T H E A U R O R A nant, Elsie Koreski was leaping and jumping. The voice of David came from heaven, 'fFaster! Faster!,' , She danced her life away at S. J. A., spake my guide, now she must dance forever before the Ark of the Covenant. As I turned away, huge shadows appeared on the stone walls of the cave-like passage- way. In the midst, was a shadow of a tiny creature, striving, in vain, to keep apace with her companions. That, said Minos, is Frances Berg. On earth, she towered above every one, but here, she roams about with the Giants of Hades. Then, we came to a group which immediately attracted my attent-ion. Nearly a thousand chattering men were gathered about one person. Curiously, I wedged my way to the center. Horrors! It was Eleanor! Why, oh why, should she be punished like this, for I remembered, at school, she had no love for males. Because of her man-hating! whispered one of the group, in my ear. Sorrowfully, I continued on my journey through the dark and damp corridors. Sud- denly, a shrill, rasping voice reached my ears. A tiny spirit sat at a piano playing fur- iously. What is the matter? I stammered, as I recognized Agnes O'Malley. This, said Minos, is a justly-deserved punishment. On earth, she grudgingly studied her harmony, now, she is doomed ever to play on a red-hot piano, and never, never, to hear a sound. I was turning away when a running figure rudely knocked me down. Jean LaMay! I shouted, as I recognized the fleeing figure. What are you do- ing? Just then, around the corner of a smoking lane, a group of men-spirits darted, evidently in hot pursuit of my seemingly rude companion. Oh, Minos, why? 'fOn earth, yon spirit was too ardent in seeking the epitaph- 'Men-not man.' Now she is doomed forever to run from any man. My guide moved on. Tears welled into my eyes. Splash! Dripping with water, I rose from my tumble. I had fallen over a bucket of water. Humiliated, I looked around. Buckets of water were everywhere. In the corner, said Minos, you may behold Monaclaire. While living, she was smiling, smiling, ever smiling to gain favor. Here, she must shed forever, Tears of Penitencef' Heavens! I was drenched with poor Mona's tears! The air was very hot, and the humid atmosphere seemed unbearable. I hesitated to descend lower, but Mines did not stop and I feared to be left hebind. In the next circle I looked into the angry eyes of Alma Lang. She turned from me in disdain, and commenced once more to take up the task I had interrupted. Oh! Oh! I ran shrieking from her. She was embalming an Egyptian mummy-while great, snarling dogs crouched at her feet. Don't be foolish,', scolded my guide, a spirit can't hurt youf' But-but Alma was-was always so frightened whenever-whenever a dog came near her, and-and an undertaking parlor-even the outside of one-made her hair stand on end! That's why she's heref' Down we went to the next circle, and as I shaded my eyes from the glare of the sudden light, I heard the hissing and crackling of flames. I looked up. We were in an immense valley which was completely surrounded by walls of fire. I heard a sobbing, sighing sound, and looking in the direction from which it seemed to come, I discovered a figure, bent under the Weight of a heavy load. The sobbing creature was Ruth. Her eyes were dark and cavernous, her face pallid and emaciated. Why is she so withered and reduced? I managed to stammer. At school she never ate her mid-day lunch. Now she must wander. in the presence of delicious fruit and fresh, limpid water, and hunger and thirst for eternity.

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T H E A U R o R A rwaty.fse CLASS PROPI-IECY N ow was the day departing: and the air, I mbrown'd with shadows, from their tolls released All animals on earth, and I alone Prepared myself the conflict to sustain, Both of sad pity and that perilous road, Which my unerrlng memory shall retrace. Just as I had read these lines of the f'Inferno, Mother's voice, chanting the age-old, and age-despised phrase, came Hitting down the stairway, Dorothy, hurry, and wash those dishes! I glanced at the despisable things, and my eyes blazed indignation. How I envy those sunbeamslll I thought as I watched them steal through the window, playing hide-and-seek among the curtains, behind the pictures, and even in the open cupboards. My glance wandered out-of-doors. The sun was high in the heavens, and snow-white, Heecy clouds were drifting around it. The shade under the big apple tree looked wonderfully inviting in the beautiful drowsiness of this first June afternoon. I stepped to the door. Ah! even the soft green grass, and the gayly colored flowers, looked lonesome. I wondered if they felt sad because there was no one out there to ap- preciate them, and tell them how beautiful they were. I decided to undertake this errand of mercy, and soon found myself lying in the shade of the old apple tree, I saw the Dream- master sailing above me on a great, white cloud, and I heard the gruff, soothing voice of the wily Mr. Sand-man, but I paid no heed. I wondered if any of my class-mates would experience stage fright during our Gradu- ating Exercises that night. Then I smiled, as the amused thought came, of how un- necessary our speeches, our songs, and our qualms of fear, would seem in forty years from now- Suddenly, a rough hand grasped my wrist, and the fingers seared my flesh like a red get coal. A glutteral voice hissed into my ear, and the breath was as hot as a tongue of re. Forty years from now? Ah! my fine young lady, probably then, and after I have finished with you today, you would welcome dishwashing with open arms! Wh-wh-who are y-you? Mines, Grim Judge of Hades, ever at your service! Then I experienced the most unusual and startling sensation. I was among the tribe who rest suspended. I glanced about me, and a spirit beckoned me. He moved onward, and I entered on a deep and woodyway. Then, I heard the howling wind, the noise of a hundred thunder-bolts, and the roaring of mighty waves. I closed my eyes, and covered my ears, and, in a few moments, after a terrible crash, I found myself in total darkness. Here we are, descended to the blind world, whispered my escort, and I became conscious of a suffocating heat. The Grim Judge pointed to the great stone Portal of Purgatory, and bade me enter. Fearfully, I stepped up the first stepg it was cold and slippery. I stepped up the second stepg it was hot and quivering, I stood on the third step, which was blood-red. I could go no farther, the great doors were clamped and barred. I was cold with fear and uncertainty. Then I heard a stern voice: Enter in, but also take good heed, . He ts cast forth who looks back as he goes. It was the Warden of the Gate. Slowly, the heavy-hinged gate swung wide. I stumbled in, looking to neither right nor left. 'Take notice, thundered Minos, and, trembling, I noticed a familiar figure of my school-days. Could this be Mary Maher in this terrible place? Terror stricken, I watched her. She was writing, writing, in blood-red letters. Forever must she write, said the Demon of Palmer Method by her side, Because, on earthyshe paid no heed to her script. A Minos gripped my wrist, and jerked me forward. In the distance I heard music. Soon, before my startled eyes, appeared a strange sight. Before the Ark of the Cove-

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T H E A U R O R A Twenty-seven I started to descend the steep mountainside, but the hand of my escort stopped me. He pointed to a large group of souls far below us. There was one lagging behind, who seemed too faint to keep up with the crowd. As I gazed, she' turned her face towards me. Was it possible? Was that Marcella? The voice of Minos boomed out, She led in her studies on earth, but here, she will ever follow!!' My heart was as lead. I sat on a jagged rock, and buried my' face in.my. hands. Hark! What was that? I raised my head and listened. Some one was yelling in loud, harsh tones. I looked to my guide for explanation. That, said he, is Pauline Doan. During her lifetime she was too silent, too quiet. Now she is doomed to create noise. From midnight to morning, she sings, from morning to noon, she yells 5 from noon 'till night, she howls and cries. Just then, a running figure hove into sight. It was an old, old inan, bearing a scythe. His long gray hair was floating in the wind, a11d the banner 'round his neck was stream- ing behind him.. A second figure appeared in hot pursuit. Red hair, blue eyes-why, it was Urusula-chasing Father Time! Until the Day of Judgment, that shall be her penance, said the Grim Judge, for at school, she was ever making up time. I looked into the valley below me. Suddenly I spied a dancing, noisy, bustling crowd. They surrounded a pitious little spirit with hands clapped over her ears. Even at that distance, I recognized the long black hair of Lois Brandt. Poor Lois! She was suffering the penalty of her retiring nature. I My gaze wandered to the farthest corner of the valley. There I saw a peculiar sight. A thousand, nay, an hundred thousand chairs, enclosed by a wall of flames, were visible, row on row. But only one solitary soul was in sight. Silent and alone, that person must wait for the Day of Reckoning, possessed by a horror of being late for judgment. Tardiness ne'er goes unpunishedf' Minos paused. You do not recognize-? Not Angela Massoth? I gasped. Angela I Slowly, and with my eyes gazing into space, I again started down the rocky side of the Mountain of Cleansing. Before I could realize what was happening, I had come in violent contact with the earth. I looked behind me to see what had caused me to trip and fall. I beheld a literal labyrinth of bright pink ribbons stretched from rock to tree. and from tree to rock. In the midst, was a red-headed, unsmiling soul trying, in vain, to extricate herself from her purgatorial net. The harsh voice of Minos whipped her like a lash- Yvonne Dulude, such is your punishment for vain pride. As an earth creature you shunned pink as a leper 5 as a suffering soul, pink shall ever repose upon the red of your hair! ' . Minos beckoned, and once more, we hurried down the steep slope. As we passed a towering, cliff-like rock, I became aware of a peculiar sound. Tramp! Tramp! Tramp! Minos pointed to a cave-like opening in the side of the cliff. On the walls, protruding from the crevices, and suspended in the entrance, were pictures of S. J. A. In the midst of them, was someone pacing, pacing, pacing. I raised my voice and called, Leona! oh, Leona! A - She made not a sound, but kept on walking, walking, as though she had not heard me. When a Sophomore, said Minos, she was not satisfied with S. J. A., but left it to spend a school term in Seattle. Now, for all eternity, she shall pace in sight of S. J. A., and never, never, never, be able to enterits hallowed halls! In a few moments, we had again reached the Valley of Shadows. Soon we faced the wall of fire, and sought the fiery gate, through which we might pass into the Dens of Dark- ness. But someone was crouching in the gateway. A dull, monotonous voice droned- 1000-2000-3000- Who is that? I tremblingly asked my guide. Just then the figure raised her eyes to mine in an unseeing stare. Genevieve Fortier. Could it be?