Westmont Hilltop Senior High School - Phoenician Yearbook (Johnstown, PA)

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asperated until at last Sir Roger quarreled with the gentleman behind him. I succeeded in putting a stop to this by explaining to the man that Sir Roger was new to this experience and being a little eccen- tric he would have to excuse his actions. The man replied (hat if any more of this disturbance hap- pened he would call the manager and have Sir Roger put out. Twice during the picture Sir Roger rose and scanned the audience exclaiming that he was unable to recognize any one. Much to my relief the picture ended and we departed without any further mishap. Upon arriv- ing at the hotel Sir Roger exclaimed that he had been afraid that we would be held up by robbers and as he said so he revealed from under his coat a stout oak club. ALBERT BAKER. 25. CHARACTER SKETCH OF BURNS We may divide the life of Burns into three parts—before he went to Edinburgh, while he was in Edinburgh, and after he returned from that city. We make these divisions because at each period there were new elements and influences which en- tered upon and changed the course of his life. Up to the time he went to Edinburgh. Carlyle says of him. “He was the gayest, brightest, most fan- tastic, fascinating being to be found in the world.” There were no dreams of worldly ambition, save a desire to rise up out of extreme poverty; there was no bitterness toward the world, for, did he not live among a devoted family, a loving father and mother, and sincere friendly peasants? He was perfectly content in his little world with its fresh flowers and happy skies, seen through the light of his poet eyes. Here was no jealousy, no strife nor bitterness; here only content and a blessed life with a devout family. To be sure, there must have been some little longing in his heart to devote himself more to what he loved; to cease for a while his eternal struggle to wrest from the unyielding soil a scant livelihood. Hut not until he had tasted the sweet of another life did this one seem really bitter. Also, if, occasionally, he had any such feelings, the inherent buoyancy, gaity, and lightness of heart, together with his bub- bling humor, were enough to banish shortly such forebodings as would threaten to plunge him into gloom. There was one quality in Burns that, although found in most children, is usually outgrown by the time manhood is reached. That quality was his sus- ceptibility to outside agents, the ease with which he was impressed. Not one action of another person, not one sight of a flower, lilt of a song, or vision of a painted sky, but left its trace forever upon his re- ceptive being. He absorbed everything, took into himself everything that was beautiful and stored it in his exhalted soul. Certainly this is no weakness, no fault. Yet there are those who maintain that it was this quality in him that caused his down-fall, maintain that had he not been so impressionable he would not have been so affected by the companions with whom he later associated. To say that, is to say that he absorbed, took into his being qualities which were base through the same channel by which all that was beautiful in him passed. While he was, undoubtedly affected by bad company on account of, or through this quality, it was only on the surface. Burns was too inherently fine, too splendidly big ever to let anything that was base or little enter into his

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SIR ROGER AT THE MOVIES My friend, Sir Roger, and I were sitting in White’s Coffee House drinking each other’s health when Sir Roger slammed his tankard down hard upon the table and in a loud voice declared that he needed some other form of amusement. I immedi- ately suggested to him that we go to a movie. With great enthusiasm Sir Roger accepted the hastily proffered proposition and in a merry voice ordered me to summon a “flivver” while he garbed himself in his great coat. When he came out of the Inn, I had a puffing, spluttering “flivver” waiting at his command. Ho exclaimed that he had never thought much of these horseless carriages and if he had his way, he would go back to the old post-chaises. However, as we were in a hurry, he stopped talking on this subject and complimented me on my prompt execution of his order. He at last entered the cab and I followed. He asked me what movie house we should at- tend. Mv answer was that he should choose. Thank- ing me. he asked if 1 had any certain type of picture I wished especially to see. My answer was in the negative. Naming over types of pictures such as romance, mystery, comedy, historical and western, he at last chose the second, which was mystery. Rapping on the glass partition we asked the driver of the taxi where was to be seen the best mystery movies. He replied, in New York slang, that there was a hot one at Lowe’s on Forty-second Street. We immediately bade him to go there. Upon our arrival, Sir Roger told the driver to wait for us, but after a great deal of explaining to Sir Roger, in which I told him that this was a public means of transportation and could not be kept wait- ing for such a long time idle, he consented to let the vehicle go its way. The entrance to the theatre was surrounded by a canopy of bright lights, which lighted the various bill boards and pictures. Scanning this for about five minutes, not missing a word but obstructing traffic, Sir Roger exclaimed that he was ready to go inside. Sir Roger went on ahead and I, thinking he would wait for me in the lobby, went to purchase the tickets. After purchasing two large seats 1 went to join my friend. Much to my astonishment and dis- may I found Sir Roger in a heated argument with the door-man. I rushed up to them and found that Sir Roger had tried to enter without a ticket. Giv- ing the tickets along with a bill I succeeded in quiet- ing the door-man but not Sir Roger. All the time while we were being guided to our seats in the loge he talked of the impudence of the door-man. After getting our coats and hats folded across the back of the chairs 1 prepared to sit down, but to my dismay noticed Sir Roger looking all around, leaning over and twisting himself in such a manner that he could see every one. He remarked to me in a very singular way that he wished the lights were on, for then he would be able to see the people more clearly and might be able to recognize someone. He at last seated himself and became absorbed in the picture. At length the picture portrayed a man prowling about in another man’s bed chamber. In a low tone Sir Roger asked me if we had not better shout and awaken the sleeper. I had indeed a very hard time in keeping him from doing this. Every bit of reading he read aloud and despite all my pleadings he would not stop until finally he was notified by an usher that he would have to leave if he did not stop. Our neighbors in the loge were becoming very ex-

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glowing soul. We have Burns, then, before he went to Edin- burgh, gay, humorous, buoyant, content and loving the world. What a new world, however, was stretched be- fore his eyes when he went to Edinburgh! There lived the literary favorites, there the “intellectuals,” but alas, also lived those who would grasp at the chance to be entertained by some novel or interest- ing character at that “character’s” expense. There lived those parasites of fame, those “convivial Maecenases,” insincere “patrons” of literature whose main purpose in life was to satisfy their own selfish ambitions rather than to bring to light any genius or talent they might find. It was into such company Burns fell while he was in the capital, and his warm, sociable and con- fiding disposition ruled over his keenness of charac- ter-judgment so that he accepted and took to him as warm sympathizers and confidants those who were unworthy of the name, friend. It is a certainty that these people found pleasure in Burns’ company. He was such a fascinatingly clever and humorous young man that it would have been impossible not to feel his charm. As we have said before, it was not any lack of power to judge character that led him to confide in these unworthy men—it was an- other cause. There are some persons who always feel, not only the desire, but almost the necessity to tell others what is near to them, what they cherish and hold high. In Burns, it bespoke a boyish eager- ness and enthusiasm, a wide and generous warmth of encircling good-feeling toward all men. It indi- cated such an utter lack of vain sophistication, such eternal youth, such fundamental simplicity, it im- parted to his nature such a vividly whimsical color that he seems all the more lovable for a character- istic which some of our granite-souled atheists call a fault. We call them atheists because atheists do not believe in God. This quality in Burns is funda- mentally, clearly and characteristically good. Good, of course, is synonomous with God and those who cannot recognize good do not recognize God and are therefore, in practice, if not in theory, atheists. We might forgive those who cannot see good when it is hidden, but those who will not see good when it is so boldly displayed as it is here, never will see it. This desire to express himself is not to be con- fused with “gushing.” The latter is found in people who are shallowly affected by everything and deeply affected by nothing. Certainly Burns was no such man, but he had a nature so warmly affectionate and sociable that it included everyone in his love, if not in his admiration. He loved everyone and was al- most pitifully eager to have everyone love him. We must not, however, for one moment suppose that Burns cringed or fawned for this love. Much as he wanted it, that, he would never do: it must be given freely and sincerely or he scorned it. That his head was not turned by all the lavish attention he received in Edinburgh is a proof that he did not take flattery seriously. Nevertheless, he was deeply wounded by the falling off of these very flatterers whom he knew were insincere. This cruel hurt was particularly disastrous to him at this time— while he saw before his eyes the unequal distribu- tion of fortune, saw those unworthy of any oppor- tunity. lavishly showered with all worldly advant- ages while others more worthy, under favorable conditions would have produced really great things with only half a chance. These two events, coming as they did, one on top of the other, produced in