University of Santa Clara - Redwood Yearbook (Santa Clara, CA)

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THE REDWOOD 13 We stood there stupidlj- and watched the man swim on and on. The bobbing head was growing so faint in the dark- ness that only at times could I make it out on the black water. Once I thought he turned and waved his hand, but perhaps it was only a dash of foam. I watched, fascinated, until my sight was blurred with the monotonous, deso- late perspective. Then I shut my eyes tightly to clear the vision. The waves boomed drearily but I could hear Jack ' s thick breathing. When finally I opened my eyes the sea and sky were one, and the head had disappeared. James Francis Twohy, ' 07. AUTUMN The golden season now is born, AuUiTnn is here, And the drooping leaves all mourn The dying year . And we realize the strife J ever ceases, That the space iwixt Qeath vnd Life E ' er decreases. (But though death brooks no delay, We ' ll not fear her, For the passing of each day (Brings us nearer: J earer to eternity O ' er paths untrod, J earer the shoreless sea, J earer to God. Robert E. Twohy , ' 08.

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12 THE REDWOOD knew that he was beginning to think Nels a little queer. We got off at the Cliff House. Nelson did not stop here, however, but walked rapidly on down the beach. He had become very silent. I noticed that a nerve in his cheek twitched relentlessly and [that his eyes were bright with a peculiar reddish light in them. It re- called vividly that night in the dark . The tide was out and the breakers were storming sullenly under the leaden sky. Nelson turned to me, his eyes ablaze, It ' s a beautiful sound, don ' t you think, Mac? His tone was low and conventional but I could see he was holding himself strongly in check. We walked steadily for two hours and a half, and then Nelson stopped and began to undress. I looked about. There was no sign of the works or the presence of a human hand within a radius of two miles. Ten miles down the beach the Cliff House was discernible, at that distance merely an inelegant squarely symmetrical pile of windows. Aren ' t you coming in? Nelson asked us, presently. We both were afraid of the cold and said so. He looked at us wonderingly but offered no comment. A little later he caught me glancing about. No sign of civilization, eh Mac? Only the old ocean just as God and nature left it. You won ' t find any boats about here. He laughed loudly and un- musically. Then he waded in, not hastily or boisterously as I had half expected, but steadily with his two arms stretched out in the form of a cross, almost in ecstacy. Ouce a big wave broke roughly in his face and I heard him suck in his breath in delight. We watched him curiously for a while and then sat down and fell to talking. Jack and I had been chums at college and had much in common. For half an hour my mind was di- verted from ths man in the water. And then Jack ' s eyes wandered casually to- wards the ocean and I saw them leap into sick, livid horror. Then I looked. The sun had sunken sulkily, swathed in gray clouds, and the skj ' was be- ginning to clear. Nelson, his yellow head silhouetted sharply a mile away in the dull afterglow of the sunset, was swimming with strong joyous strokes straight out to sea. I looked at Jack. In his throat I could see the great pulse pumping wildly. I tried to shout, but my voice broke ludicrously. Jack burst out into a laugh, harshly hysterical. I cleared my throat and cupped my hands about my mouth. Nels, I shouted, Oh, Nels, come back! Night was descending and sea and sky were starles.sly purple. Above the boom of the breakers the man, a mile and a half out, heard, for he turned his head for an instant.

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14 THE REDWOOD BACH TO ROME (an incident of AVIGNON.) Christ ' s Vicar halts; amazement thrills his limbs, — Then pain, — then fearful hesitation, — while He eyes and eyes the prostrate form outstretched To bar the path of his departing. Rome, Art thou again defrauded of a meed divine, Ere it return unto the eager clasp ? Long hast thou waited for this gladsome day. When Avignon, now three score years and ten Thine all unequal rival, should repent Her folly and deliver thee the spouse That ' s thine, the Papacy not circumscribed To any country ' s narrowness but broad As are the mighty world and thou! So grand Erstwhile, reduced to dire, dire wretchedness, — Sombre th ' historic lanes and desolate, — The owlet nestles in thy temples rare And hoots the night to morn, — thy glory gonel For he is far from thee and lingereth still, Thy Pontiff-King, thy soul, thy joy, — despite His heaven-recorded vow.