University of Denver - Kynewisbok Yearbook (Denver, CO)

Page 32 text:

RAISING THE ELAG i Listen, my comrades, and I’ll recite I low the flag was raised one autumn night. ’Twas the fifth of October, in ninety-nine. When the night was moonless ami fierce the wind. And slowly we groped by the dim starlight. Said one of the boys, on the campus green. Ah. the painters' ladders by the Miff there. The finest sight that ever was seen— W e ll use them well, if all goes fair. And five strong youths will soon climb high. 'l'o the college root up near the sky. Where the profs, all say vc should not go. Cause we might fall, and ’twould hurt us so That whatever hapjK ned we'd never know.” Then they put to work while the painters lay In a hazy dream of the coming day When they would return to the school on the hill. Finding their ladders unmolested still. To finish the work so well begun. Little they thought that ere the sun Should rise in the east by the dairy of Munn. The ladders would be gone from the Miff wall Across the way to the sinners’ hall. Meanwhile the stars shone dimly on And the fleecy clouds chased «|tiickl by. Darkening the starlight of the autumn ky. And the wind blew fierce from the western heights. Rustling the leaves on the campus lawn. Whistling around the flagstaff high. And chilling the five |w or Freshmen wights. 1 hen they ctim!)ed to the roof of the building gray. My the linked ladders, in stocking-feet. To the gutter where the two r«M.fs meet: And up the gutter they made their way lo the steep roof on the northern side; And by this they dimlted to the cujMila wide. 30

Page 31 text:

I tell you that Maude W alker refused $5,000 a night and was only to sing three numbers. Her voice is truly marvelous. I heard her in the spring of 1902 in “Dorothy.” and it was wonderful. She never did care a cent for money, you know, so she refuses bushels of offers. And Litcile, she says, lias done the very worst tiling—you remember Lucile Timhcrlake, of course. W ell, anyway, after these many years of single blessedness, she has taken unto herself a husband who is twenty years younger than she is. but love, they say. is blind. Isn't it funny? She used to be so much sought after in the days of old, and we thought she would be the first to be led to the altar. Such a topsy-turvy world as this is at best! So hard to tell how people will turn out. for my eye caught the strangest item in an American newspaper the other day. It said. “Gooldv. Car-son and Hunter, assisted by Mrs. Hunter 1 nee Holderer) are traveling through the country on a political tour. It is positively the greatest trust combination that the United States has ever had to deal with, for Mrs. Hunter trusts Mr. Hunter, who is running for President, and Hunter trusts Carson, who is running for Vice-President, and they all trust Gooldv. who is the power behind the throne, the brain, the brawn, the Mark Hanna of the whole confidential scheme.” I notice, however, that the “confidential scheme” of this “trust business” is very dear to the American heart and shows signs of being the most popular of campaigns. And Klsie. who do you think she saw one Saturday when she was in New York? Marguerite Dyer, whom she describes as a happy little old lady with white hair and spectacles. And can you imagine what sin is doing?—has a house full of children—street gamins whom she is instructing in the good and righteous way. along with several cats and her house maids. Wilber Alter has developed into the business man, with a great coat and pince-nez, who docs things. ()f course, he has money to feed to the black birds, but does not. because it is bad for the digestive apparatus. He has all that heart could wish, even to a dog. which he carries around everywhere with him. Dogs are good friends. I saw Mabel Drown last year while she was taking the waters at Da den. 1 should think that thirty years spent in teaching the piano with rests of only two or three months at a time would make anyone a lit subject for Daden. Dut she seems to enjoy her work very much. I must close this long letter now. as it is midnight and my eyes are misty with the dews of fond remembrance. I like my Kathcrland’s ways, altho I love America. My husband and I live cjuict. happy lives, devoted to work and play, and 1 often think of old I). I , days. Dear. Klsie. you needn't explain to me; I know you and Mr.---------are happy, and trust this will find you well. Pin sure you must like the new position on the college faculty. Goodnight, and write soon, for I always long for news from the other side of the Atlantic. Lovingly yours, II NTT IK MKYKK Sell WAIIACIIINSKI lIl’RO. 29

Page 33 text:

Holding to the tin. an ornament there. Xor paused to stop and look down where I'lic root and the wall could Ik- seen to meet Above the ground full fifty feet— For they were the chaps who do and who dare. I’eneath. in the Park, the sleeping lay. In their beds, on Learning s hill. Wrapped in sluml er so deep and still. 'The five could hear the watchdog’s bay I pat Pritchard’s, on “Professors’ Row.” Warning the winds not to murmur so And seeming to say. “All is not right.” A moment only they looked at the light Diffused from a thousand glassy arcs And dancing, shining, electric sparks. They counseled together in voices low. For fear someone might chance to hear. And spoil the work to the Freshies dear A work that fore’er shall remembered be I iy the class of nineteen hundred-three. Meanwhile impatient the work shall be done. 1 latless and shoeless the five worked on In the cupola up beneath the sky. The hours of darkness were almost gone. The night was quickly passing by. Then three climbed to the tower roof, Receiving, meanwhile, the wind’s rebuff. To Winship the honor is gladly given Of climbing the stall that points to heaven. As it rises above the roof of the hall. Slender and straight, and smooth and tall. As upward he climbs the flagstaff's height The hammer resounds through the quiet night. I Ic nails the cleats and mounts one by one, Just one moment more, the work’s all done. The library clock had counted three When the Freshman band was through. And the pink and gray was floating free In the night air damp with dew. Through all the history of our class. Pome by tradition from the past. In hours of triumph and times of defeat. We’ll remember well that autumn morn When the sun rose up and was first to greet The flag of Xauglit Three, new horn. 31