St Joseph Academy - Sajoscript Yearbook (Columbus, OH)

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SANDALPHON Ah, good Sir, I am weary indeed. For a long time have I been journey- ing down this road. Ere I had travelled far, I fell into the hands of lordly Ambition. Ile made me his slave. I served him blindly, but finally his greed and cruelty became apparent and after a long struggle I escaped. When first I began my journey I was young and happy, but taking the wrong turning in my youthful folly, I wandered far from the King's Highway. Now that I would return I have grown so feeble that I am beginning to despair of ever arriving at the Palace of the King. The youth was touched at the words and the appearance of the man. Suddenly he was stricken with remorse for his own thoughtlessness and de- termined to atone for his folly by helping this poor wretch. Prompted by his squire, he said, You have recalled to me my knightly honor which I have so nearly lost. Come, mount behind mc and we shall turn back and seek the King before it is too late. NVhen the man had mounted they turned about and galloped up the road, with the squire beside them rejoicing. At eventide they again reached the cross-road. This time they ascended the steep and rocky path. Hot, travel-stained and weary, they suddenly came upon a sparkling stream flowing not far from the road. Dismounting to drink, they perceived fragrant flowers ef purest white growing along the wa.ter's edge. No sooner had they tasted the cooling draught then they were instantly refreshed and a new courage and strength surged in their veins. They resumed their journey and just as the twilight was deepening into darkness they arrived at the Palace of the King. The doors were open. Softest music filled the air and subdued light shone from every window in the palace. A beautiful being ushered them into the throne room where falling on their knees they paid homage to their gracious king, who was more loving, more gracious, more wonderful than even, in their wildest dreams, they had imagined. He greeted all three kindly and bade them welcome to Ilis Kingdom for- ever. And so the knight attended by his faithful squire, together with the man he had saved, dwells forever in peace and contentment in the Palace of the King. Our Lady of the Scapular DIARY lXI.xRGARET Doon Gradu atc Our classroom is the throne room Of a wond'rous presence fair, With mantle blue and face serene, And lovely golden hair. With her always is a Babe, His eyes deep, dark and tender, Sweetly resting on her arm, Wrapt in a heav'nly splendor. All through the day He tells her Of the good we chance to do And she smiles ever on us As though, all things, she knew. Who are these two? you ask me, The Babe and Beauteous One? Why-Our Lady of the Scapular And her Eternal Son. ' page seventy-live

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S A N D A L P H 0 N The King's Highway VIRGINIA HAROLD Graduate HE sun was just rising as the young knight, accompanied by his faithful squire, set out on his journey to the .Palace of the King. Ile was singing a song, for the day was new and his heart was as light as the rosy clouds above him. 'l he way before hiIn stretched smoothly inviting, so he gaily rode along untroubled by his quiet companion. Presently coming to a cross-road he halted. Toward the right the path turned upward, steep and rocky, but that on the left sloped gently downward hedged in by strange gaudy flowers. Although he knew the upward path was the one he should follow the youth hesitated. The other was decidedly more attractive. Turning to his squire he said, Come, let us follow this other road for a little way. It is early and we shall not go far.', t'Nay, II1HSt0I', let us hasten on in the rightful path, for although it be early, if we are to reach the Palace before nightfall we must lose no time. The youth coaxed and bribed, but the squire remained firm. Finally in exasperation the knight exclaimed: If you will not come then I shall go alone. Do you stay here and presently I shall return. So saying, he turned toward the left. The squire, unseen, followed him for a short distance and then disappeared behind a thick hedge that skirted the roadway. The youth rode slowly on. The newness of his surroundings thrilled him. Odd birds of glistening plumage fiitted about the trees. Strangely enough they did not sing, but chattered harshly. Soon the knight forgot that he should re- turn, forgot his squire, forgot that his journey lay in another direction, forgot -for the gaudy tiowers breathed a dangerous perfume. At length he came to a handsome Inansion whence issued the sound of loud music and laughter. Ry the gate he saw a man and approached him intend- ing to find out who owned this beautiful place. The man turned to him and loleit was his squire! How came you here? Master, I have ridden beside you all along until a short time ago I hastened on so that I eould meet you here. 'tSo! You are indeed a faithful squire. Can you tell me the owner of this? and he waved his hand toward the Inansion. Yes, sire. This is the heme of the powerful lord whom they call Pleasure. Ry Inany he is considered a kind and merry master. And so he is for a time. After a while he grows selfish and exacting and often cruel. Do not serve him, youth, but let us turn back and hasten on our journey,', explained the squire. Nay, this seems a jolly place to me, my Squire. Stay awhile. Youth, I cannot allow you to linger here. If stay you must, then first eontend with me. Come, it is too pleasant a day to quarrel. Let us compromise. I shall not enter here but let us ride together a little farther CH this path. I find it to my liking. The squire was reluctant. Ilowever, as the knight persisted, he was com- pelled to follow him. Presently they Inct a peasant. trudging along with lowered head and lagging footsteps. The squirc whispered to the knight, By your knightly honor are you not bound to help the weak? Surely this man is in need of assistance. Being really kind at heart, the youth drew rein and inquired, Good man, whence come you and whither are you bound? page seventy-four

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SANDALPHON Dusters DoRo'r11Y YOUNG Gracluatc VERY girl and woman sometime in the course of her life has made the acquaintance of that terrible ogre of childhood, that pursuing monster of latter years-thc duster. There is the duster with a handle and the one without, the old-fashioned duster and the new-fashioned one, the gay-colored duster and the somber one, the hemmed duster and the hemless one. But of all thc various kinds of dusters, the old-fashioned duster was the dustiest. It was made of gaudy feathers and was finished with a nicely painted black handle. It usually gave the busy housewife an opportunity to 'practice Job's patience. For after a steady half hour's swing of this feathered household aid she would turn around only to find that all the molecules of dust in some surprising manner had returned, if not to their former resting place, at least to one or another in the same room. This playful characteristic of the old-fashioned duster's displaced dust was especially provoking when one was perched on the top step of a six-foot ladder dusting the top of a very dusty bookcase. Just when the patience of housewives was almost at the breaking point as the result of dust filled throats and dusted rooms as dusty as ever, the cloth duster found its way into the tool-box of many a home mechanic. Then trouble began over the question of colors. Some liked yellow dusters because they brightened the room, others declared tha.t nothing would do but black. Some preferred striped dustersg others thought that the plain ones were quite the thing. In the arguments held over the back fence or the bridge tables, age played its part. The young bride said that all her dusters, regardless of their dust- removing qualities, would have to match the new rose draperies in her brand new home, while her experienced mother liked the soft variety that would do the work, and did not consider the colors. Now in our scientific age when every day sees some new invention on the market, we have the dustless duster. Fifty washings will not take the grease and oil out of it! This new duster is an improvement on the old-fashioned one be- cause it takes up the dust and leaves a fine polish. But then there is always the reaction and the polish turns back to dust in a few hours. Why not turn back the pages of the Book of Life and read about the dusters in the sweet story of the Girl Graduate? When we look at the pictures in this wonderful book wc think, not about thc brush, but only about the artistg his skill with the brush and the harmonizing colors. So it is tha.t in the dusty every- day life, mest of us think of the individual, her ability and the brush with which she paints her picture and thus writes the story of her life. The Girl Graduate has spent many tedious hours mastering the art of dust- ing-sometimes the process was an intellectual cnc, as for example when she was preparing for an examinationg again it was a psychological one carried on in moments of introspection when she sat down to study herself in the mirror of conscience. In her life, dusters of all kinds have played an important part especially in the formation of character. The dust of pride and self-efficiency and some of that which characterized Rip Van XVinkle's attitude toward any- thing like hard work, has a strong tendency to obscure some of the finer qualities page seventy-six