St Mary of the Springs High School - Siena Yearbook (Columbus, OH)

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jlf'i'7i1'S fj5 -sz' :qv 2 I was born in the cold and wintry month of February, and though it seems many years' ago, it was just seventeen-to be exact. K In reviewing the network of incidents that form my past life, there are some that are indelibly stamped upon my mind. My early years were, for the most part, no different from those of the other average children. But there are a few experiences that stand out clearly--those that impressed me most at the time. I remember my first vacation in the country-it was all novel and exciting to me then, and though I was only four years old at the time, I had an adventure I will never forget. While coming home from the country we had to walk over a hurnt trestle, as it wasn't safe for the trains to cross. VVe were scarcely halfway over, when as I thought the journey was hecoming rather monotonous, I decided to look around. My foot slipped, I went through the trestle, and found myself hanging on with two hands, and gazing wide-eyed into the water helow me. I was finally dragged up again, and of course, after it was all over, I began to cry. My first Communion next recurs vividly to my mind. I can recollect the long procession of little white-clad figures, the ceremonies that went with it, the hand that led us into the Church, and above all, the solemnity with which we went to the altar to receive our Lord for the first time. This was my day of days. The graduating from the grammar grades and the starting of my highschool career came simultaneously. I think I was as proud of the diploma I received in the eighth grade as I will he of the one which will mark the termination of my high school days. I have enjoyed these four years of high school, with their joys and sorrows, and am now waiting eagerly to sec what june, with its graduation, has in store for me. HELEN FISCHER, '28. GOLD All the day was golden and now the golden sun Hung o'er head like rainbows ere the storm is done. Blue clouds, white clouds, and clouds of purest gold, Gave a touch of Heaven with its sayings old. Golden stairs, and golden gates, even golden streets, Make Heafven a sort of place -where peace alone one meets. On earth all dirt and dinge are fringed with depest gold, And the people while they can, the Midas touch enfold. ELEANOR FLAVIN, '28. ' 112 j , :Elm tit ,wif -z f is

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I A -1-'--i:A f-'T' f f- - ' ' -- f f - 1 U.-uk' Rfk V if V-i Y' I qfya ' U? - 'fe' fry ,T-i 5 1 Y: Q jg. j . Y , - V ,, Q kj-F V- ?7 sire ' gi1'1jf:-Eiii jeff! lf U ,f 5 .il ,V fx fjx L ' il. 5-' F 5 ' 1 '4':Sls,e. ,.:-A., ..--1, ff--- zeaev---1 - e 1 if 'i ., - .A ,: . I -- . 1 ' Y J 1'-evzwre-1 - yr, , H i v. ..- .112-1? if 4: ff. -, As-2-ide-1-f ' E g.s-M' iT 7.:f-3 i5lE.5i5:' il fW1i.2:j'5-'lg3532:-glue' 1-112 f- v--W -Yf-- - Y ala.. -Wwe - A b f , ,.-:ff-as--,---4, ,- if 2 ...f -' T- ffgggwhw ,jr- j L.. ,nigfii --'fjfqw l ', lil. ,I . I 4, , 'fi' I by , A69 ,, It was a cold day in April when I and my shadow came into this world. Of my early babyhood I know little, but they tell me I was the handsomest baby they ever saw. The first thing I remember was when our pretty neighbor sang a song to me, My Melancholy Baby. I'll never forget that. The next thing of importance that happened in my life occurred one day when I was sliding down our back cellar door. To my misfortune I stubbed my toe. Oh, how they KISSED that poor little toe. My first day in school was the happiest day of my life for then I was beginning my career at St. Mary's School. Dear old St. Mary's, she has never changed. The next casualty in my life happened as a result of my hobby of hopping wagons. One day I had the misfortune of falling underneath a large wagon. The result was two broken legs. I next spent the longest nine months I ever knew. There were days of torment lying in a cast, but there were hours of sunshine when my classmates came to see me. Believe me I never hopped any more wagons. At last I was a freshman. Those were the days when the VVearing of the Green was popular. They were days filled with joyous events that will forever haunt my conscience. My sophomore year was one of the usual happenings. The junior year was then the best of my school career. One of the hardest tasks I had during the year was trying to wash off the burnt cork which I had on my face as a result of trying to be a blackface comedian. I also attended the Junior-Senior Banquet, but I did not enjoy the meal because all the while the courses were being served I was trying to memorize a speech I had to give that evening. It was with great fear that I approached the Senior year. I was warned that it would be tough for the first half, and it was. According to the prophets I ought to graduate. And until I receive my diploma, then and not until then shall I say good-bye to My Bungalow of Dreams. THEODORE EISENMANN, '28. I was born on Wednesday, October 6, l9lU, in a village in Ohio. I was, as they say, born with a silver spoon in my mouth, for wasn't I born with two teeth? When small, I was very fat, almost you might say, as broad as I was long. In the daytime I would always sleep and at night I would cry. I suppose when I was first born I was very pampered and spoiled. I used to like to go to church, for there was a man that sat in front of us that would always dust the kneeling bench and then the bench and then would blow his nose furiously, all with the same handkerchief. One Sunday I started to do the same when I came in church and-well, I never did it again. I started to school at Holy Cross and continued in this school through the eighth grade. I was then sent to St. Joseph Academy and started in as a Freshman, which I thought was something great. I thought the Seniors had nothing on us, that they were mere nothings aside of our class, but we soon learned different. I continued my course in St. Mary's High School, where I hope soon to graduate. MARY DONNELLY, ,28. 111

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answered Tommy. ,eff m Q , e e f i f if -:me . is-. is .args . if .1 3 2-f w i . -4 - .nl iff ,-2 -fi .iia fi' c i.. M -- at -'fe -ms iiiyig' lil-,Liii f TOMMY Tommy, Tom-me-e-! VVhere are you? called Mrs. Gray. Yes, Ma, I'm coming. Wait a minute. Soon's I win my marbles back, You come right in this minute, welre having company for dinner, and you must look nice. Gosh,', grumbled eight-year-old Tommy, that means I gotta wash my neck and ears clean and remember to say please when I want anything. Who's coming now? Your Uncle George and Aunt Jane and your sweet little cousin Ruthf, Sweet! Huh! I don't like girls! exclaimed the youngster, and you ean't fight with ,em either, because if you do, they always cry. Evening came and with it the sweet little cousin. A series of howlings and squealings emanating from the regions of the kitchen indicated that Tommy and Ruth were not on the most amiable terms. It was evident that these sundry squealings would not cease until Mr. Gray asserted his parental authority. Tommy! he roared, as fathers will. A Yessum, I mean yessir, here I am. I'm coming. Oh, Tom, can't you behave yourself just this oncein this from Mrs. Gray. Yes, Ma, only, she didn't have to bite my marbles! They're mine. I don't like g---D , Tommy, march right upstairs until that temper of yours wears off. So Tommy went. But he didn't mind. He had just had a bright idea. He would go up in the attic instead of his room. He could wear out his temper there, too, he reasoned, and he would have fun playing injun and generals 'n everything. I don't need anybody else, he spoke to himself, 'cause I'll play they were all shot by me. And Tommy enjoyed himself shooting imaginary injuns with all the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old youngster. After all his imaginary foes had been killed, he looked for other worlds to conquer. He rummaged through everything and came to a trunk full of hooks. These he ignored as unworthy of his consideration. They did not have any pic- tures in them and the words were too big for him to read any way. But there was one cover that caught his eye. This might be worth looking into. It was a small thin book, and on the front sheet was written, To Ruth from lvlother, December 25th, 1870. VVhy, Ruth was mother,s name, and she must have gotten this when she was a little girl. He was getting interested now, and the words were not grown-up words, so he read the story. It was the old but sweet story of the Christ Child in Bethlehem, but to the boy it was new, and the picture of Him lying in a manger appealed to his childish imagination, and he decided he would hunt for some straw too, to find out for himself how it felt. He found some excelsior in a corner, and reposing on it, his. thoughts gave way to idle dreaming and thinking. He would ask mother and dad more about this Infant Jesus in the morning. They would know. Grown-up people were so smart. Funny, that Ma kept this book in the attic. It was so nice, had such a nice cover. Poor Jesus had to lay on this straw--the stable was very cold-this attic was pretty cold, too. At last he fell asleep with the book clutched tightly in his arms. ' 113