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Dotre Dame Scholastic 

• D 1 5 C 6 • (j) VAS I * 5 £ 111 P 612 * V I CIV R\/S ■ V1V£ -CpVASI- CRAS-IMORITUieyS- 

Vol. XL VI. NOTRE DAME, INDIANA, November 23, 1912. ‘ No. 10.', 



pOR peaceful homes and healthful days, 
For all the blessing earth displays, 
We owe great thankfulness and praise, 

To Thee, Who givest all. 

The golden sunshine, balmy air, 

Sweet flowers, fruits, Thy love declare. 
Where harvests ripen, Thou art there, 

Tliou God, Who givest all. 

An Appreciation of Thomas Hood. 


OU nave seen no doubt, sometime 
or other, in the course of a country 
walk, a tiny violet growing close 
to the edge of the dusty highroad; 
and later you have noticed, if you 
were observant, that the little flower 
was choked with dust, and that the heed- 
less hurry of the multitude had put an end 
to its short existence. It lived only long 
enough to diffuse a breath of fragrance over 
its common surroundings, and to cheer the 
eyes of a few passers-by. Just such an ex- 
istence was Thomas Hood's; such his modest, 
fragrant service; such his untimely end. 
Striving to acquire a livelihood by pandering 
to the whims and fancies of the London rabble, 
this poet of the poor was unable to give to the 
world the beauty and wealth of his noblest 
thoughts. Like the violet he grew up under 
adverse circumstances. Pinching poverty and 
the demands of an illiterate populace sullied 
the beauty of his thought, and, in consequence, 
he is remembered chiefly for his clever punning 

and ready wit. But in the few real poems of 
his that time has treasured, we breathe a 
fragrance as of the violet. 

“I must sing, I must grin, I must tumble; 
I must turn language head over heels and 
leap through grammar. To make laughs is 
my calling.” To some these words signify 
that it was Hood’s desire to play the clown 
rather than the poet and instructor. But 
to the reader that understands the unfavorable 
conditions under which he wrote, the lines 
have a far deeper and sadder significance, fbr 
they tell the story of his poverty. Reading 
the lines as the poet wrote them, “I must 
sing, I must grin, I must tumble,” etc., we readily 
understand that grim necessity required him 
to be a humorist. 

It seems almost incredible that he^an 
invalid during the whole of his life — could 
have written verses which teem with the. cheer- 
fulness of youth. In addition to the discom- 
fort of his crippled condition, he had to endure 
the anxiety and reverses that wait on poverty. 
Yet of all the lines he wrote, not even one 
whimpers a complaint. Nor is he self-exalting, 
for there is not a line that boasts of his patience. 
If he mentions his misfortunes he turns them 
into a “laughing apology for not being ready 
with his expected supply of wit.” Even when 
he was made penniless by the failure of a firm 
in which he held a financial interest, he re- 
fused to be conquered by grief and discourage- 
ment, and remarked that he “had to be ^a. 
lively Hood to gain a livelihood.” It is this 
nobleness of courage and this complete forget- 
fulness of self that command our warmest 
admiration for Hood. He was naturally witty, 
and the public of his time was aware of it.': 
Hence, it demanded a continuous flow of 
wit in his verses. His poverty necessitated 
his meeting the demand, and therein was:’ the 
preventative to higher attainments. >.;• 



Hood frequently utilized the pun as a source 
of humor, but his genius in handling it often 
transformed it into genuine wit, as is the case 
in Faithless Sally Brown. 

O Sail}' Brown, 0 Sally Brown, 

' How could you serve me so? 

I’ve met with many a breeze before 
But never : uch a blow! 

Then reading on his ’bacco box, 

He heaved a heavy sigh, 

And then began to eye his pipe 
And then to pipe his eye. 

And then he tried to sing, “ All’s well,” 

But could not though he tried; 

His head was turned and so he chewed 
His pigtail till he died. 

His death which happened in his berth 
At forty odd befell; 

They went and told the sexton 
And the sexton tolled the bell. 

These stanzas, — the four closing ones of 
the ballad, — are sufficient to give an idea of 
' the general tone of the poem. Each abounds 
in humor and in puns, yet the humor never 
becomes dry nor the punning monotonous. 
In Faithless Nelly Gray, 

Ben Battle was a soldier bold, 

And used to war’s alarms 
But a cannon-ball took off his legs, 

So he laid down his arms. 

• Nelly Gray, not caring to share her life with 
a man who had “both legs in the grave,” re- 
fused Ben Battle’s offer of marriage. 

?%., So round his melancholy neck 

, V- A rope did he entwine, 

y.,; ’ And for his second time in life, 

Enlisted in the line. 

Ay. ;; And so we read Hood’s lighter verses and 
Fffff never tire of “threading through the maze of 
his inexhaustible puns.” A Parental Ode to 
v My Son, Aged Three Years and Five Months, 
A AT Morning Meditations, Truth in Parenthesis, 

; A- and Sally Simpkin’s Lament, are a number 
V&; of ' ballads of like character to Faithless Nelly 
IfTGray,. and they, too, abound in sport and jovial- 
;yyity?' They merit admiration all the more from 
. . AVthe fact that their author was a man “with 
■ 'A dark', sad eyes set in a pale and pain- worn, 
yet; tranquil face, with an expression of suffer- 
iingv about his mouth that told of weakness 
A and disease. This is the author who would have 
•• Au%learn that the sense of humor is the ever- 
, ; ^r|My^femedy for ills, the best safeguard against 
f anjlafrogant, nature, and the greatest incentive 
toAsubinit with patience to the trials of life. 

- ' Surely. Thomas Hood, unlike many preachers, 

practised his teachings faithfully. So oblivious 
was he to his own suffering, that he lived in 
another world, — a world far different from his 
world of reality. 

Yet this writer of so much humor was not 
without his serious moods. Indeed his fame, — 
what little the world has grudgingly given A 

him, — rests not upon his humorous verses \ 

but rather upon those written when great 1 

thoughts came to his mind and unheard melodies j 

entranced him. It is these productions that I 

will last when his lighter verses shall have been 
forgotten. The' Song of the Shirt, Eugene v-i 

Aram, and The Bridge of Sighs no one will call 
ephemeral. And so it is to be regretted that 
the poet whose genius produced works of this \ 
class had to devote the greater part of his 
time to what was frivolous and transient. 

Hood saw his own mistake only when the „ \ 
greater part of his life had been spent. “Had 
I foreseen, indeed, some five and thirty years 
ago that such a demand would be made upon 
me, I might have laid myself out on a purpose, j 

as Dr. Watt recommends, so as to give of every j 

day some good account at last: I would have 
lived like a Frenchman, for effect, and made 
my life a long dress rehearsal of the future 
biography. My whole course of existence up ; 
to the present, moment would hardly furnish 
materials for one of those bald biographies 
that content the old gentleman of ‘Sylvanus 
Urban.’” This is a self-confession that Hood 
had not known his own powers in the realm 
of - literature. For years he wasted his genius 
on a trifling public that knew him only as a 
jester and refused to know him as a poet. 
Because he wrote to please these, his greatest 
contributions to literature were given sparingly, 
and' his deepest thoughts remained unsung. 
Though his poems are few in number they are , 
priceless in merit. The Plea of the Midsummer 
Fairies, a poem which perhaps possesses more : 
imagination than all his other poems combined, 
has been compared with Spencer’s Faery Queen 
and with the best works of Shakespeare. Eugene 
Aram, a poem revealing the secrets of a human 
heart tortured by a guilty conscience, has 
merited the praise that it has only been sur- ' 
passed in its kind by Coleridge’s Ancient Mariner. 

If Hood evoked laughter in Domestic Asides, 
he touched the chords of pathos in The Death- ^ | 
bed. If he ever knowingly ridiculed his fellow- 
toiler he also opened the ears of Justice to 
the “sharp and exceedingly bitter cry of the (, 


hitherto inarticulate, — the sudden wail, not 
of the poor seamstress alone, but of the whole 
body of the underpaid and over-worked, fight- 
ing out their grim duel with hunger.” This he 
did in that poem that found echo in the hearts 
of so many thousands of poor, underpaid 
workmen and women — The Song of the Shirt. 
Another poem, The Lay of the Laborer , similar 
in its theme, contributed much toward lessening 
the appalling conditions of the laboring class. 
Indeed, so sympathetic was Hood with the 
poor and oppressed that his pen was never 
idle in their behalf. How keenly he. observed 
their sufferings in the minutest details is mani- 
fest in the Song of the Shirt, and here we may 
premise that this poem applied to Hood himself 
as well as to the poor seamstress for whom it 
was a plea. Hood on his deathbed, with 
poverty for his companion, lays bare in this 
poem a feeling of despair and agony 1 ' which 
could come only from experience, and which 
is not a natural power of any' poet: 

With fingers weary and worn, 

With ej^elids heavy and red, 

A woman sat in unwomanly rags 
Plying her needle and thread — 

. Stitch! Stitch! Stitch! 

In poverty, hunger, and dirt, 

And still with a dolorous voice 
She sang the ‘Song of the Shirt.’ 

0 men, with sisters dear! 

O men, with mothers and wives! 

It is not linen you’re wearing out, 

But human creatures’ lives. 

Stitch! Stitch! Stitch! 

In poverty, hunger, and dirt, 

Sewing at once, with a double thread, 

A shroud as well as a shirt. 

To attempt to select certain verses from this 
poem of wonderful sympathy'' in order to demon- 
strate its strength would be useless. The poem 
must be read in its entirety. We read one 
verse only to pass on to another more powerful : 

But why do I talk of Death? 

That phantom of grizzly bone, 

1 hardly fear its terrible shape, 

- It seems so like my own — 

It seems so like my own, 

Because of the fasts I keep; 

0 God, that bread should be so dear, 

And flesh and blood so cheap. 

And these lines were written by. the " jester, 
the punster, the fun-maker! They were. written 
by a- man whom the world would not recognize 
as worthy' - of the. immortal garb of the' poet. 
If these lines are not poetry, where shall tve 
find it? Alas, how many geniuses have wasted 

their talents to answer the call of an uncultured 


public! We know that a poet is to be judged 
by what he has left to posterity, and not, by 
what he might have left under different cir- . 
cumstances. But even considering this, Our 
sympathies go out to Thomas Hood because 
we believe literature has not paid him his 
due. It is lamentable to think that to the public 
of his time, he was only a humorist, he whose 
thoughts were “thoughts too deep for tears." 

Hood was a poet of many' moods, as is evident . 
from verses in which he blends the notes 
of pathos with those of humor. These poems, 
though often made the subject of severe criticism,.; - 
are always pure, and behind their patches of 
“seemingly grotesque nonsense there is generally" 
some moral, satirical, or poetical meaning.!’ .: 
What Hood accomplished in this branch of 1 . 
his works has fittingly been expressed by the-V 
pen of an admirer in a copy of the Edinburgh: 1 
Review. “He introduced comedy and tragedy " y 
to each other and taught them by an intery. • 
change of good offices to live together in cordial y t. 
union.” In The Seasons, a short lyric, the few f . 
humorous expressions interspersed in the stanzas 
never mar the thought. One of Hood's critics, y 
commenting on this combination of humor and - 
pathos, writes: “He often blends feeling; : - 

fancy, wit, and thoughtfulness in one queer : 
rhyme or quaint quibble. Hood was no mere ; V. 
provoker of barren laughter, but a man whosb 
mirth had its roots in sentiment and humanity:.- 
He saw the serious side of life as clearly as the 
ludicrous. He knew what a thin partition - 
separates tears from laughter in this world ; 
that the deepest feeling often expresses itself;. 
in quaint oddities of caricature; that wisdom 
sometimes condescends to pun, and grief 
to wreathe its face in smiles.” V;- 

On his deathbed, Thomas Hood was : the 
same noble character that he was in his flourish-' , 
ing manhood, and in his dying moments rek ' 
marked with the same optimism which had; 
pervaded his whole life that the “world Avas 
not so bad, humanly speaking, as people wbuld : 
make it out to be.” The world had been cruel . 
to him and yet he loved it. And though 'he 
rests in a lonely cemetery of Kensal GreenyA? 
when rightly he should be placed among the ; 
immortals in Westminster,— his name 's will . " 
never be forgotten as the poet friend of the 
suffering, and over his silent grave "• 

The living will weep and sigh '. jCIT'-' 

Over dust that once was loyedCy : A 



Varsity Verse. 

An Unexpected Thanksgiving. 

'j-Jj c 

- v , . 
^ * 

Sfpi - 


V" 1 

1 ,\u- - 


< v - 

■* ’-u*.’ 


A Smile. 

There is a window on my way 
From the office. Day by day, 

A girl I used to see in there, 

Who bravely laughed at work and care. 

As seasons went and seasons came, 

Each day I saw her there the same. 
Faithful to her task, and she 
Was always smiling cheerily. 

I merely glanced nor wondered why 
The window each time caught my eye; 
But now I look and look in vain. 

And feel a dull, insistent pain. 

For now when I go down that street 
I want a smile I never meet. 

W” L. C. 

The Poet’s Troubles. 

Of all the things we have to do, 

I think there’s nothing worse 
Than sitting up till ten at night 
To write eight lines of verse. 

You rack your brains to find a rhyme. 

Of words you try to think; • 

You use up all your extra time, 

But don’t consume much ink. 

J. W. H. 


A tear-drop glistened in her eye — 

I knew not what to do; 

I saw that I had made her cry. 

For a tear-drop glistened in her eye; 

I glanced around — no one was nigh — 

I kissed her then; now wouldn’t you, 

If a tear-drop glistened in her eye 
And you knew not what to do? 

F. C..S. 

The Klondike. 

A wild and weary waste of snow; 

A biting, killing frost; ■ • 

A train- of drooping, starving dogs— 

A miner spent and lost. - - 

- A wind that piled the snow in drifts 
.. And laid the dark ice bare 
’And, Too, the -worst of all, a sun ' /- 
That blinded, -with . its glare. - 

^4-y,y>Xhe , day is done, the moon comes out, . 
The wind has hushed its breath. 

-> =v w 

f yiTke - pale, cold light shines on a form. 

Forever still' in death. 

E. P. 


“I — I’m afraid I ain’t doin’ exactly the right 
thing, Mr. Grant.” 

The little, spare man looked cautiously at 
the girl beside him. She seemed so pleased, 
so happy, and nestled so snugly against the 
rich upholstering, yet her cheap hat, rusty black 
skirt, and shabby, shoes were proclaiming 
loudly that she had never ridden in a limosine 
before. * 


"Hm — m!” was all he said, stroking his 
white V andyke thoughtfully. 

He was a little, old, neat, dapper gentleman’ 

- in the neighborhood of fifty, with steel-blue 
eyes and a sad, kind face. 

“Hm — ml Why not! I see no reason why ^ 
you shouldn’t come with me. I invited you, 
didn’t I?” 

“Y — yes,” she said, looking away: ‘‘but — ” 
“You did perfectly right in accepting,, my 
dear young lady,” the elderly gentleman as- 
sured her. \ 

“Mebby, — and mebby not,” she replied a 
bit snappishly. 

“But what is wrong about it ? Why shouldn’t 
you have accepted my invitation?” 

“ Oh, I dunno. Yes, I do too. Why, 
Mr. Grant, you don’t even know my name!” 
“By George, that’s right,” he acknowledged, , 
his eyes popping a trifle in consternation reanj 
or assumed. I never thought of that ! Strange, 
isn’t it, that I — er — overlooked so vital a matter. 

I beg your pardon. Hm — m!” 

She gave him a questioning glance, but his 
face, beaming . with kindness, reassured her. | 
“May I — er — take the liberty of inquiring*! 
what your name might be?” he asked, leaning 
forward a trifle. . . .. 

“Out there, 'at your factory, they call me 
by a number. - I’m Nine Eighty-nine.” 

“Yes, yes, but that isn’t your name. I — ” 

“ I’d rather you didn’t know it. It wont dcr 
no - good nohow. Call me — ah — Miss Nine 
Eighty-nine if you want to; I don’t care what 

- you call me. ” ; , -y , 

“ But, my dear ; young lady, I can’t: call you 
‘ ‘by that absurd number. - Won’t you give me 
‘•'-your real—” -S -y- -- 1 . *: -r _ • - ~y 

Y- It’s good enough for your foreman and your 
• pay clerksA It’s by that number, that, I gets] 


x :r/ * 


- C - 

' ' 

' : r^rl- - 

my yellow envelope every week, so I guess it’ll The richness, the luxuriousnes^^of' the 

be good enough for you.” mansion overawed her, and the. silgntf^howing 

“Eh? Oh, yes; but I’d rather call you servants startled her. Conscious^M|h%f ?'poor 

by your real name, dear. Wont you please clothes and mean appearance she ^shf a^k. back 

give it to me?” frightened and ashamed, and would^Kave. gone 

° ° ’ - ■ 

There was something soft, something appeal- no farther but for the reassunng^woice of 

ing in the old man’s voice that made her re- Mr. Grant- . - JiNjoy - 

gret her snappish answer. She looked, and “Come, dear, into the hall.- Jhm^|ifemove 

in the dim light of the fading day she' saw, or her wraps.” • „ - 

thought she saw,- a suspicious moisture gather- A butler of the frozen -face tyE©=:fgihgefly 

ing in his eyes, softening their steely blue helped her off with the long, plainJ^atWfshe. 

expression and fogging, the thick nose-glasses, could ill afford to part with it, it ed^efedj'suldi 

“Aw, Mr. Grant, what good will it do?” a multitude of offenses against. style^Mshibn, 

she protested. and good taste. Taking her by thA.^arm, Mr. 

“What good?” And his voice became sud- Grant led Miss Nine Eighty-nine /through; a 

.denly very weak and shrill. Little girl, little gorgeous reception room and into. th|?|parlor. 

lady, if — if you only knew, only could under- Here, answering a signal, a portly littleAyoman 

stand, the things I am hoping for, longing in black and white came to them; r- r 

• ’ - -slj 3 - 

for, hungering for, you — ” - “Jane,” began Mr. Grant, “ here>Jis .the 

“Yes, that’s all right, Mr. Grant,” she inter- young lady of whom I spoke. DidLybutget 
rupted, not unkindly; “but why did you in- the things I ordered?”. .. - 

vite me to take this here trip, that’s what “-Yes, sir. They are upstairs, sift-’-k 
I want to know.” “Good. Then Jane, take care of'tms Jyouhg 

vite me to take this here trip, that’s what “-Yes, sir. They are upstairs, sift->-k 
I want to know.” “Good. Then Jane, take care or4ffis|young 

“ If you will give me time, just a few moments, lady. Follow Jane, please. She Lwiil Lshow 
I will explain. I — I don’t feel — very well — you your room.” • ; TSTC 

just, now,” and dropping . his cane, the old Miss Nine Eighty-nine, eyeing thejkihdlittle 
gentleman removed his glasses and wiped the maid with some misgivings, re t reateJl^sey eral 
tears from his eyes. steps, her eyes wide with mingleff:-|&ar' ;and 

While the great limosine droned on, she surprise. She clung tightly to :;tjr|jjelderly . 
watched him curiously as he struggled to re- gentleman’s arm. - 

gain his self-control, and then gazed vacantly “Aw, naw," she protested., “I dpnjt<wanta. 
out of the window, half exasperated. Say, who is she, Mr. Grant?” . 

“Huh!” she said to herself, “the boss's “She is your, maid, dear. . Go Withyher- and 
gone batty. Doin’ the weep act right.- I — I dress for dinner. Please do, th at! s J|;?mce; gir 1 : ’ ’ 
wonder what’s the matter with him. Mebby She would, in all probability have' bolted, 
he’s gone daffy over me. Gee! mebby he really - but the kindly little woman in bl aclLan d whi te 
has. Old Moll alius said, before she died, that - put her . arm around Miss Nine -^ghtymine’s 
my face ’ud be my fortun’, an’ - mebby she waist and called her l^dear'-^^d^/^darlmg/ 1 
wuz right.” It took several moments persuasipnj-but in 

“Listen, child!” said Mr. Grant in a voice the end the two women passe d-kupfitHe' wide, 
very weak and uncertain. “We are near velvet-carpeted stairs, leaving MryGrantdn the 
home 'now, and I really don’t feel well. . Wait, parlor _ alone. As Jane, the maid,js|ippping for 
please, until we get home, will you?” an instant at the first landing, peefedjhautidusly 

“Aw, that’s all right, boss — I mean, Mr. down into the room below. sheSc^ght sight 
Grant. Sure thing, I’ll wait.” - of her master standing in front of^^^oillportrait 

“Aw, naw,” she protested,, “ I ddntESwanta. 
Say, who is she, Mr. Grant?” . ' 

’ “She is your , maid, dear. Go Wi M^her- and 

J f — j: T>1 — 

please, until we get home, will you?” an mstant at the first landmg, peexea|eautiously 

“Aw, that’s all right, boss — I mean, Mr. down into the room below. shejiC^ght sight 
Grant. ; Sure thing, I’ll wait.” - of her master standing in front bf®a\pil|portrait 

The limosine stopped- at the end of a long, which hung in a. massive gold , fraffiejqn^the- wall, 
winding drive, fringed on either side by, hedges He was wiping his eyes and glasMMufiously and 
of hawthorn and evergreen; - a great gate his lips were moving. - 

swung open and footmen ran down the great “Gee, boss, ..ain’t this simplyj^|ea^t!” 
steps of the portico .and opened the door. Mr. Grant, in his e veningJ^|t|0>h'ad been 
As one ini a dream— a wonderful dream of pacing -to'- and. fro . in t^^^^rojorn Tor a - 
fairyland— she went up the stone steps and on long, tedious; hour,y r but,Jx-^^ . of ' 

into -the hall, led by the .elderly gentlemanl and this fresh,, girlish vpice;; brbJ^J^^^stillhess, he 
followed by liveried, servants- - turned smilingly. ; InsteadJ^a^porly dressed, 

v ~ - . ' - - . - - . - - // ’ 



untidy factory girl, there stood before him a 
fairy in immaculate white, ^-a beautiful, daz- 
zling fairy, with the sweet, unspoiled face of 
an angel and the golden hair of an angel, too, 
a sight to gladden the heart of any childless 
old man.” 

“Darling! my child!” he gasped, uncon- 
scious of what he was saying, overcome with 
surging emotions. 

“Ain’t I swell, Mr. Grant!” she gurgled 
joyously, pivoting around on her heel for a 
full inspection. “ Look, ain’t these rags simply 
the- limit? Look, dimon’s, real dimon’s, an’ 
sure ’nuf, pearls, and the lace and fixin’s is 
real French stuff. No fakes here! An’ pipe 
the slippers! Gold, sure’s you’re livin’! An’ 
the stockin’s is real, truly silk! Guess I ain’t 
some doll, eh? An’ gloves to wear in the house 
an’ rings! Holy Christmas, get on to these 
rings! Real em’ral’s and some more dimon’s. 
Ain’t I the swell high stepper? Fer the love 
o’ Mike, boss, say somethin’, will yeh?” 

Tears of joy were coursing unrestrained 
down the old man’s cheeks as he took her 
gloved hand in both of his and earnestly 
kissed it. 

“Dear,” he murmured, choking back the 
sobs that would come; “‘you are beautiful — 

Then, walking unsteadily, he led her gently 
into the parlor — she still- talking incoherently 
about her newly-acquired costume, he, bowed 
and silent, trembling with a new-found joy. 
In front of an oil portrait on the parlor wall 
he paused and adjusted -his spectacles. 

“Dear,” he said in a voice that trembled 
and sounded very far away, “look there!” 

Miss Nine Eighty-nine looked, — then in- 
voluntarily stepped back. il 

“Why — -why, it’s me!” she stammered. 
yA choking sound issued from Mr: Grant’s 

.“Why, sure ’nuf, it’s me all dolled up!” 

.Together, hand in hand, they stood in silence 
before the.picture, while the old grandfather’s 
clock in the comer slowfy and decorously 
sounded the hour of nine. 'Then with a sigh, 
he turned to her! 

. “ No, dear, it is not you. ’Years and years 
ago, when I was a young man, I married. 
A daughter came to us, a! beautiful, golden- 
haired,- little angel. She died.” •*; ,:i 

Here the; old man stopped and wiped his eyes. 

“ She was too good, too innocent, too beautiful- 

to live. Her right place was up above with the 
angels, and they took her away to live with 
them. It was a terrible blow, and soon, very 
soon, my wife went too, leaving me all alone in 
this drear}'- house. God alone knows how I 
have grieved for them — how I have suffered. I 
struggled, I was successful. I had everything 
I wanted except the one great thing I had 
lost forever. I wanted my little daughter, 
my beautiful little girl, my darling, my Helen! 
Oh, I have longed for her, hungered for her, 
cried and prayed to have her back. For long, 
cruel years I prayed God to give me resignment 
and patience. And then God, who is all 
merciful, granted me mercy. In the bowels 
of my great factor}'- amidst the dust and noise 
and confusion, I saw the living image of my 
Helen, — I saw you. O child, if you only knew, 
if only you could understand how my heart 
went out to you as I saw you at your work bench ! 
Tell me, dear one, are your parents living!” 
The girl was crying too. 

“Naw!” she said fiercely through her tears; 
“I never had none as I know of!” 

“Oh, thank God, thank God! My Helen, 
come back to me again, my Helen!” 

“Dinner is served,” announced the butler 
with awful decorum, making up, as he later 
informed the French cook, for his master’s 
frightful disregard for the proprieties in taking 
up Avith a friendless factory girl. 

“And, Helen—” ' . 

“What, Father?” 

“Will you — will you be my — my little girl 
for life?” 

“Will I? Will I? Why, boss— Father, I 
mean — such a question is absurd. I certainly 
will ; me fer you all the time!” 

“Dinner is served,” proclaimed the butler 
again, , disdaining by his colorless, rigidly 
moral tone, all part or share in the proceedings 
,of the morning. 

On their Avay into the dining-room, happy Mr. 
Grant squeezed his neA\dy-adopted • daughter’s 
arm. ' 

“And today/ Helen/ is Thanksgiving.” 
“That’s so; it is, ain’t it?” she responded. 
“Gee, Father, I never kneAv what it meant 
before today. There ain’t no -such day oh 
the* East Side.” - 

Mr. Grant choked again. ' 

. “An’ say, Father, the maid, told me not 
ter eat Avith my knife.- Is that' straight stuff, 
daddy, or was she kiddin’ me?” . - y 


Let Us Give Thanks. 

'Y'HE golden harvest has been gathered in, 

A lavish Hand gave many hundredfold; 

You tilled the soil and placed the seed therein, 
But He gave life where all was dark and cold. 

Then sing to God in joyful, thankful strains, - 
For though you watered — He the increase gave; 
And he who now in thankless mind remains, 

For necessary brea:l deserves to crave. 

B. W. 

Don Orsino— A Summary. 


There is probably no phase of letters more 
absorbing in interest than literary criticism. 
Criticism — the “art of judging with correct 
taste,” — aims to give praise where praise is 
merited, and adverse comment where such 
comment is justified. In the criticism of the 
modern novel several things are to be re- 
membered: the critic must be especially con- 
cerned in ascertaining what has 'been the fidelity 
of the author in- “holding the mirror up to 
nature.” For, in truth, the real novel is 
nothing more than a tale portraying life in 
its daily moods, characters that might live 
and be seen upon the street corners or in the 
drawing-room, and events and incidents which 
are possible in everyday life. Therefore, 
realism and naturalism are elements which 
must find place in every good novel. Then, 
too, the critic must also be on the alert to 
discover whether or not the author has been 
so absorbed in his work that his mind has 
wandered; whether he has left natural con- 
ditions to exaggerate the display of emotions; 
and whether these emotions, proceeding from 
love, anger, revenge, etc., are good or bad. 

The scene of Marion Crawford’s “Don 
Orsino” is laid principally in Rome, and the 
time dealt with is that after the fall of the 
temporal power of the Pope. Don Orsino, 
the principal ' figure in the novel, is the. son 
of Giovanni Saracinesca and his wife, Corona. 
When Don Orsino ’s education was completed 
and his twenty- first birthday ..rapidly near- 
ing, his old grandfather, Prince Saracinesca, 
decided that upon that eventful day the boy’s 
mother should receive a- magnificent portrait 
of her son. .Therefore daily the youth. repaired 
to the magnificent studio of Anastase Gouache, . 


the noted • French painter. On one ^occasion 
their conversation drifted to . the subject of 
love. Gouache was a friend of Don Orsino ’s 
family and wanted to see the young man' happily 
married. By chance he mentioned theyfact 
that a beautiful “Spanish princess ’ ’ was on 
that very morning coming to his studio to 'have 
her portrait finished, — Orsino, much interested, 
in the description of the lady, begged permission 
to remain in the studio until she should Arrive. 
He had not long to wait, for in a few minutes 
the “princess” — Madame d ’ Aran juez— entered 
the room and Orsino was introduced . to> her. 
From the start he took a peculiar interest in 
the woman, but, as he thought, it was nothing 
more serious than a feeling of friendship. 
That day he accompanied the young lady to 
her hotel, and before leaving asked permission 
to visit her. The madame answered indifferently 
that the}* should probably meet again. 

About this time in Roma, speculation in prop- 
erty and building was at its height: thousands 
had invested immense sums with great success; 
and so it happened that Don Orsino, in This- 
desire to get away from his present monotony 
of life, conceived the idea of entering this kind 
of business. His father and his grandfather 
would give him no encouragement, but having 
money of his own, which he had won at the club, 
he set out to see San Giacinto, another of his 
relatives, about an investment. But San Giacih- 
to, a man of great commercial sagacity, advised 
Orsino that the time for speculation had passed. 
Not content with this answer, the young man 
finally persuaded himself to see Del Ferice, 
a most successful venturer in the recent .'-in- 
vestments, but one on bad terms with Don 
Orsino’s family. The rupture had been brought 
about through a duel between Del Ferice and 
Giovanni Saracinesca. But Del Ferice seemed 
to be . willing to help Don Orsino, and the two 
joined forces in a business operation wdthmja 
short time. After their meeting Orsino was 
prone to believe that. after all the “financier” 
was not such a bad man as he had been depicted : 
it remains for the latter part of this story to 
prove that.he had not been belied. 

Through the days that Don Orsino was in- 
augurating the business deal, he was not- in- 
different to his new friend Madame D’ Aran juez. 
Indeed he paid her frequent visits- at her apart- 
ments, . talked over general subjects of interest, 
took , her as his guest to the Jubilee held' in 
St. Peter’s, and on one occasion,, overcome by 


a sudden passion of love for the woman, dared 
even to kiss her against her will. He also 
communicated to her all his actions and prospects 
in business, and she seemed particularly inter- 
ested in them. Soon the members of his family 
discovered his relations with the woman. 
.Neither his father nor his mother was par- 
ticularly pleased, but they would not interfere 
with their son’s actions, for now he was past 
his minority. However, for curiosity’s sake 
Giovanni assiduously inquired about the young 
Avoman of his affections. He found out that 
her name had been mentioned in very flatter- 
ing terms by the newspapers, that she had been 
called very beautiful, that she was the widow 
of a Spanish naval officer, that she had been 
admitted into Dona Tulia’s society, and that 
she was a member of some royal family, — 
but was, to some degree, a woman of mystery. 
She could 'not have descended from a royal 
Spanish house, because the genealogical charts 
did not contain the name of “ d’Aranjuez,” 
and some suspected that she had assumed a 
false name. 

After a few days Del Ferice had made plans 
for assisting Don Orsino in his new business, 
and had obtained a certain Andrea Contini,- 
an architect, to be the young man’s partner. 
The small amount of capital was then invested, 
and soon the work of building an apartment 
house was well under way. The new firm 
went under the name of Andrea Contini and 
Company, the young nobleman withholding 
his name because he did not want to be known . 
publicly as a business man, and, too, if the 
/ venture should fail, as had often been predicted, 
he preferred the family name to be out of the 
- deal. It now came to a point when the Andrea 
V Contini Company had to obtain more money 
to continue building. Orsino made another 
"- deal with Ferice, by which the latter’s bank 
furnished certain sums of money at different 
intervals for constructing the houses, at the 
same time securing mortgages upon the build- 
. -.irigs. But the work prospered, and every- 
- Althing pointed to success. 

: '-/M Orsino, in the meanwhile had lost the company 
; of Madame d’Aranjuez — or Maria Consuelo, 
as she 'was better known, — because she had 
returned to Ffance for the summer months. 
AwQften Orsino went to speak with old Spicca, — 
{once a notorious duelist and now, strangely 
; "enough, a frequent caller at Madame Consuelo’s, 
But {the hardened old fellow either could not 

or would not give him the information sought. 

By this time, the Andrea Contini Company had 
entered upon business on a larger scale. Larger 
sums of money were borrowed from Del Ferice, 
and all of it was invested in property. Before 
long, as had been predicted by San Giacinto, 
a financial panic came. Dealer after dealer 
and contractor after contractor went bankrupt, 
and Orsino feared lest the same fate would 
befall his business. But though the bank 
stopped payment on all other notes, it did 
not stop payment on those of Orsino’s company. 

The affair looked suspicious, and it flashed r 

across Orsino’s mind that Del Ferice was 
trying to lead him on to worse disaster. It 
appeared that the shrewd financier, through 
loans of money and mortgages, was putting 
the Andrea Contini Company under such 
heavy'- obligations to him that it would result 
in Orsino and Contini working away 7 their 
whole lives for no compensation or going into 
bankruptcy'-. The latter was not agreeable 
to Orsino, and so he chose to continue work. 

This move was a source of disquiet to his 
family, since Del Ferice was as unforgiving as s. 
he was powerful. 

In the fall of the same year Maria Consuelo 
again took up her abode in Rome, but it was 
some time before Orsino had a chance to renew 
his acquaintance noth her. When the turn 
finally^ did meet, their relationship became more ' 
intimate than ever, and the young man became 
a willing victim to her charms. Together 
the pair talked about Orsino’s precarious posi- 
tion in business, and Maria Consuelo appeared 
to be quite anxious on his account. But day 
by day the situation became worse until Del 
Ferice had practically a mortgage upon Orsino’s 
future life. ‘ ,v 

One day'- Orsino and Maria Consuelo talked 
together until they reached the point where 
they spoke of their own relations. It was now - 
very clear that they were truly'- in love, for in 
answer to Maria Consuelo’s question of how 
long they should love each other, Orsino said: 

“For- all our lives now, and for all our 
life hereafter.” But though Maria Consuelo 
acknowledged that she loved the young man, 
there was some hesitancy in her m ann er, 
and she seemed to be unhappy, and looked I 
frightened, pale, and nervous, as if she were * 
withholding some great secret of heir life. Orsino 
asked her to marry him, but she answered sadly: 

“I can r not marry you.” Then she begged • 



him to leave her, saying, "You tempt me." 
Orsino was as one stunned; he went about 
in a daze. Cast off by the one he loved, 
his thoughts, sometimes bitter, sometimes 
yearning, ever reverted to her. But soon he 
had more than baffled love to occupy him; 
Del Ferice had begun to take his vengeance. 

Some time after, Madame d'Aranjuez — now 
abroad — wrote to Spicca, upbraiding him 
with being the author of her life and the author 
of her unhappiness. She said that she had 
recently discovered, through attested documents, 
that she was the illegitimate daughter of 
Lucrezia Ferris unmarried, and Count Spicca, 
who had later acknowledged the offspring as his. 
This same Lucrezia Ferris was the woman that 
served Maria Consuelo in Rome as her maid. 

Don Orsino had by this time received a 
number of letters from Maria Consuelo, and 
in return had written a number of communi- 
cations to her, addressing them to Egypt, 
where she was now travelling with an old 
princess, whom she had known in her younger 
days. His letters dealt with the sad state of his 
business affairs, disclosing to her his precarious 
position in the hands of the evil Del Ferice. 

The crisis in Orsino’s business life now ar- 
rived — the time when he and his partner would 
be obliged to make another contract with Del 
Ferice. This would probably decide their 
fate, as previous contracts, mortgages, and 
loans had given Del Ferice complete power 
over them. Orsino entered Del Ferice' s office 
on the morning set for the meeting. He was 
surprised to find the shrewd financier in a 
genial mood, but was completely ' astonished 
when told that all his obligations with Del 
Ferice and the bank had been cancelled, and that 
he and his partner were free men. No reason 
was given for the astounding change in affairs. 

. At about the same time that this event 
took place, Spicca, who was now rapidly fail- 
ing in health, received another letter from 
Maria Consuelo stating that she had married 
Ugo Del Ferice, and that the princess, with 
whom she was travelling, was not expected 
to live until they reached Normandy. Orsino 
likewise received a letter from her which had 
been written on the eve of her marriage. It 
was dominated by a certain pathos, and in 
every line Orsino could see that Maria Conseulo 
still loved him above all other men, and that 
she was just about to marry a man whom she 
did not really love. In the conclusion of the 

letter she counselled him, now that he had 
come out of his business difficulties free, to 
commence his "real life” in earnest. • Qrsino 
was profoundly affected by the letter, and the 
more he pondered over it the more intangible 
seemed its hidden message. y 

Not long after this Orsino was summoned 
to Spicca’s bedside, for the old man was in 
his last illness. While Orsino was conversing 
with him, Santi, Spicca’s servant, brought a 
message into the room. It read, "Count Spicca: 
The Princess is dead. I know the truth at 
last. I come to you at once, (signed) Maria 
Consuelo.” Orsino was overcome with surprise, 
and Spicca, believing this to be the opportune 
time, gave the young man the whole truth 
of Maria Consuelo’s life. It developed that 
the old princess, with whom the Madame 
d’Aranjuez had been travelling, once had a 
daughter, Marie, who fell in love with, a man 
much below her rank. A diplomatic marriage 
was impossible, and so the young folks married 
secretly. The young bride soon had a child; 
to have let the fact be known publicly would 
have caused a great scandal. Various schemes 
suggested themselves in the matter, and, in 
the last extremity, Spicca took the child as 
his own, and to "white- wash” the affair married 
Lucrezia Ferris a fortnight later. So Maria 
Consuelo was really • the granddaughter of 
the old Princess, while state documents showed 
her to be the daughter of Spicca and Lucrezia. 
It was now clear that Spicca had made a 
great sacrifice, in order to save the reputation 
of the young Princess Marie. 

The door of Spicca’s bedroom softly opened 
and Maria Consuelo entered. At once she' went 
over to the bed and threw her arms about the 
old man’s neck and kissed him many times. 
The "father” and the, “daughter”; talked 
together for a few moments; and then it was 
apparent . that Spicca’s end was near. But 
there was one thing that bothered him yet, 
and that was, why Maria Consuelo became the 
wife of Del Ferice. His dying request was 
not refused. Her answer to him. was: "I 
married to save the man I loved.’” The two 
embraced each other, again, and then the famous 
old duelist passed away. He was a man who 
had sacrified his life for the. reputation of 
another. Indeed, Maria. Consuelo : had loved 
Orsino as he had . not loved her — and' she had 
sacrificed her life to Del Ferice to save Orsino 
from financial and social ruin.- 



Notre Dame Scholastic 

Entered, as Second-Class Mail Matter 

Published every Saturday during the School Term at the 
University of Notre Dame 

Terms: $ 1.50 per Annum. Postpaid 

Address: The Editor Notre Dame Scholastic 
Notre Dame, Indiana 

Vol. XL VI. NOVEMBER 23, 1912. No. 10. 

Board of 













ARTHUR J. HAYES, ’ 1 5. 


BOOS, ’15. 

— No distinctively American institution lias 
been prompted by worthier motives, or more 
consistently maintained throughout the centu- 
ries, than has our observ- 
Thanksgiving Day. ance of a national Thanks- 
giving Day. Two hundred 
and eighty-one years ago, Governor Winthrop 
of the historic Puritan colony of New England, 
ordained that a day should be set aside to return 
thanks to Almighty God for the peace and 
plenty that had finally come to relieve the 
perils and privations that so long and so severely 
tried the hearts of these colonists. The custom 
that thus had its inception on the bleak New 
England coast almost three centuries ago, has 
never, been permitted to lapse, and this year, 
pursuant to the practice that has so long ob- 
tained, the President of the United States has 
issued a Proclamation designating the last 
Thursday in November as a day for nation- 
wide thanksgiving to the Creator of all good. In 
emulation of the chief Executive, the governors 
of the respective states have also officially 
proclaimed Thanksgiving as a legal holiday, 
setting ' forth the sentiments which prompt 
the keeping of this festival. We acclaim this 
custom as one of the very finest traditions 
that have grown up with American history. 
Certainly it is one of the most praiseworthy' 
practices of all time. This is the only period in 
the, whole year when this country, as a nation, 
accords to God a measure of thanks for the 
universal . prosperity and general welfare that 
He has never; failed to bestow. It is the only 

day of the three hundred and sixty-five on 
which many of our citizens take cognizance 
of their dependence upon the Supreme Being. 
The same devout motives that prompted 
Winthrop’s initial proclamation should actuate 
us in the observance of this day. It is its pro- 
foundly religious character that has made 
Thanksgiving Day an invaluable institution; 
this character should be faithfully mainainted 
in the feast. Let it never degenerate into an 
occasion for riotous feasting, as we sometimes 
have reason to fear it will. 

— The Bible is the best-known and highest- 
prized' book among all nations of the earth. 
It is God’s own book, written according to 
His inspiration and under 
College Students the infallible guidance of His 

and the Bible. Holy Spirit. Critics — unbe- 
lievers as well as believers — 
consider it the world’s greatest piece of liter- 
ature. This most fundamental source of the 
Creator’s revelations to His creatures should 
be known and studied; and because it is the 
holiest of documents, and contains our rules of 
faith and of life, all students should be familiar 
with its lessons. 

We fear that the Bible does not receive from 
young people the attention which it deserves. 
Only lately a professor of rhetoric at Michigan 
University, wishing to test the biblical knowledge 
of his students, gave them in an examination 
a set of questions on the Bible. From the 
point of view of accuracy the answers might 
as well have been given by Fiji Islanders. 
One young man, a student of law, gave as his 
opinion that “Jesus Christ died at a good 
old age;” another wrote that “Nazareth” 
was the name of Christ’s father, “Nazarine,” 
the name of His mother. Man} 1 - of the other 
answers displayed ignorance equally profound, 
and taken together they point most strikingly 
to a lack of knowledge that is deplorable. 
Here at Notre Dame we have special facilities 
for becoming intimately acquainted with the 
Bible: its lessons form the texts for frequent 
sermons; it is used as a text-book in dogma 
classes, and at some time or another a copy 
of this “book of books” comes into the pos- 
session of each student. Our familiarity with 
Scripture should hot, therefore, end with the 
classes in Christian doctrine. The text-book 
Bible should nob be stowed away in the comer 
of a trunk or findjan obscure place on the shelf. 


A Visit from Cardinal Farley. 

On last Monday His Eminence John Cardinal 
Farley, Prince of the Church and Arch- 
bishop of New York, paid us the honor of a 
visit to our University. Cardinal Farley was 
on his way .back to his see after a month's 
tour of the West, which culminated in Denver, 
Colorado, where his Eminence consecrated 
the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception. 

The visit of the Cardinal was the occasion 
of much rejoicing. The gay appearance of 
the University buildings, decked out with papal 
and national flags, triumphant strains from 
the band, and a cheering multitude of students 
greeted the arrival of the Cardinal and his 
party. To the Faculty of the University and 
the students assembled in Washington hall, 
his Eminence spoke kind words of appreciation 
and encouragement. Though no introduction 
of the Cardinal was necessary, his audience 
listened with pleasure to the words of greeting 
spoken by Father Cavanaugh, who said, in 

Gentlemen - of the University: — It has not 
often happened in the history of your Alma Mater 
that so much happiness and distinction has come 
to it on a single day. The illustrious Churchman, 
who has honored us with his presence, is one of the 
bright traditions of our American hierarchy. The 
story of his work has almost the flavor of an Arabian 
fairy-tale. He presides over what I believe to be 
the greatest Archdiocese of the world-wide Catholic 
Church. He has grown from boyhood to such perfect 
stature of civic and ecclesiastical manhood that, from 
v his great watch-tower on the banks of the Tiber, the 
Father of the Faithful, amid the rejoicing of the world 
and the enthusiastic plaudits of all America, stretched 
forth his hand to lay upon his brow the highest crown 
short of the papacy itself that any one can receive 

The Cardinal spoke praise of our University 
that we were proud to hear, and made proph- 
ecies of our future that we resolved to justify: 

Students of Notre Dame: — It is a pleasure to 
me to find myself- here after .twenty years. It is 
nearly twenty years since I first visited what was 
even then a flourishing university. Today I see 
evidences of growth . equal to anything I saw during 
the long journey I made across the continent. 

Here one can easily imagine himself in one of the 
old Universities of Europe; you are reminded of the 
historic paintings of Oxford; there is about the place 
a delightful flavor of antiquity, — the impression of a 
growth that is centuries old.. 

I remember meeting the grand old man, the 
splendid old missionary, who laid the foundations 
of this great school. I remember meeting him in 
Rome, thirty - five or more years ago. 


Today, as I look around this hall, I can, not think 
of any college hall that carries with. it:, the classic 
lines and the suggestion of Rome as thisjhall does. 
And everything else is done on this same grand scale. 
Your Church, which is a cathedral in .itself, and all 
other buildings seem owing to the inspiration of that 
priest, who I believe is with the Eternal Father today- — 
the good Father Sorin who is venerated : not only by 
his own associates but by all students of. this Uni- 
versity that find shelter here. 

My young friends, I am not going to make a grad- 
uating address, but there are a few things which I 
should say to anybody like you at anyhfiine, and. I 
wish to say them to you now. Your opportunities 
here are something exceptional. Your good Father 
Cavanaugh has often alluded to the men that' have come 
to my Archdiocese from here and I have joy in telling 
you that I have none to surpass them in’zeal, intelligence 
and in promise. . 

I don’t suppose all of you are going to-;. enter the 
Church, but there is a place for you ' outside of the 
sanctuary. We want men well versed in every species 
of knowledge, and I have good reason to know that 
you will receive that knowledge here, -for. you have 
a Faculty equal to any in the country, not; only- in 
number but in equipment. That is onejthing you 
have reason to be proud of and gratefdlifor. Now 
we want you, when you leave such an institution as 
this, to become leaders of men. You will ofi necessity 
become such. Men will look up to fyou and 
expect great things from you. Even if you: have not 
had the honor of being graduated from Notre Dame, 
it is a culture in itself to remain here for a little while. 
No matter how short or how long your stay here may 
be, it ought to do you good and it ought to shine forth 
in your life afterwards. It is impossible for any young 
man to come into a life of this kind without acquiring 
a culture which must influence everyone ..with whom 
he may come in contact. You will be. called, upon to 
do the work that the men of today are doing now. 

In my journey across the continent I found men 
very generous. Y ou are of the spirit of the;West, which 
is a great, big-hearted .spirit. Bigotry seems to be 
eliminated almost everywhere, so that -.your, fortune, 
your luck, is far in advance of what we, who were in 
college thirty-five or forty years ago experienced . 
You have not to meet the difficulties and the sacri- 
fices that your predecessors of thirty or forty years 
ago were called upon to bear. You will be expected 
to take up the work that they began, and you will 
have to enlarge it, and spread it, and identify your- 
self more closely with the Church’s work. In the 
face of the world, hold up the grand old banner of 
Catholic .faith. That is the lesson and the training 
that this institution imparts. 

With the Cardinal were Monsignor Lavelle, 
Rector of St. Patrick's -.Cathedral, New York; 
Monsignor Lewis", Secretary to His Eminence; 
Monsignor McGean, Rector • of historic Old 
St. Peter’s on Barclay St.; Father Luke* Evers 
(A. B. ’79); Very. .Reverend Dean O'Brien, 
Kalamazoo,- and the Reverend Father Ryan,. 
Pontiac, Michigan. - V . . ' . 



Picture Plots. 

Here is a new opportunity for college students 
that have a liking and ability for story writing 
to earn good money in a very pleasant way. 
We advise such to read carefully the adver- 
tisement of this proposition in the adver- 
tising section of this issue of the Scholastic. 

To the minds of most of us the words “mov- 
ing' pictures” suggest nothing but a cheap 
form of entertainment, designed particularly 
for those who can neither afford nor appreciate 
the “better” things in the show line. We 
sneer at the crowds going and coming from the 
nickeldromes and kindred places, although we 
must confess that we are often compelled to 
sit up and take notice by the motion “plays ” 
that are presented after the acts at the high- 
class vaudeville theatres. 

That anything higher than mechanical art 
enters into' the production of the films that 
make these “plays” possible we little dream, 
although it is a fact that a considerable portion 
of the literary folk of the country are daily 
taxing their imagination in efforts . to make 
good films and, incidentally, to enlarge their 
bank accounts. 

Despite the ciy against motion picture 
houses, the business of film production is pro- 
gressing, and the rivalry among the dozen or 
more concerns in this country engaged in such 
work is so great that no expense is spared in 
endeavors to put out superior films. “New 
ideas! new ideas!” is the constant cry, and, 
naturally, the manufacturers turn to the literary 
folk for assistance. At least ten firms are 
buying ideas to be worked out on the screen, 
and the dearth of good ideas is such that a 
few concerns are advertising that they will 
pay high prices for the kind of suggestions 
they want. Ideas put into workable form are 
called “scenarios,” and for acceptable “scen- 
arios” the advertising manufacturers agree 
to pay from ten dollars to one hundred dollars. 

All of the big companies maintain literary 
departments, the business of which is to pass 
upon “scenarios” and work-up ideas submitted. 
Persons of recognized literary ability are at 
the heads of most of these departments, and 
this fact, it’ is generally agreed, is tending more 
to raise the standard of the moving picture 
than all the legislation and censorship that the 
public reformers are bringing about. As to 

the writing of “picture plays,” one of the large 
firms has issued a booklet, which contains 
the following: 

“ That the motion picture, in recent years, 
has taken its place in the amusement world 
is clearly established. Briefly, it bears to the 
stage production the same relation the short 
story bears to the full volume novel. It 
differs chiefly from the stage play in that no 
lines are introduced. Despite this limitation 
and despite the brevity and low price at which 
this entertainment is offered to the public, 
film maunfacturers require that their product 
must qualify with the ever-ascending standards, 
dramatically, artistically, and morally. To this 
end the manufacturers are spending thousands 
of dollars each year to obtain the most skillful 
producers, the best dramatic talent, and the 
most effective stage devices in the production 
of the pictures. ‘ The same is true of the story 
which the picture portrays. 

“The writing of stories or plays for modern 
picture production is practically a new profession. 
Writers of successful motion picture plays 
find their work constantly in demand and at 
good prices. The field is not crowded with 
successful authors, and many who are able to 
produce available plays have not yet grasped 
the first principles of the moving picture drama, 
nor do they seem to have any inkling of what 
the manufacturers require. Many of these 
have the qualities, imagination, talent and 
ingenuity which make for success in this line, 
some of them having won success in the 
magazine field. 

“In the writing of motion picture plays any- 
one who is capacle of evolving an interesting 
plot adapted to ■ motion picture presentation 
may nan success. The proposition is the germ 
of the plot. It consists of a condition or 
situation from which the details of the story 
are developed. The success of a comedy 
composition ,lies in the novelty of the plot, 
or some new and interesting phase of an old 
proposition, in its interest-holding qualities, 
logic and probability, and the humor of the 
individual scenes and situations. There is 
a wide difference between the ‘comedy’ and 
‘comic’ pictures, and this difference lies chiefly 
in that the comedy depends largely for its 
humor in the cleverness and wit of the plot, 
where the comic is usually merely a series of 
situations arising from one incident or situation^ 
In the comic film there is little plot and the 


scenes are loosely connected, while the success 
of the picture usually depends upon the fun 
obtained from each scene. Good comedy stories 
are hard to obtain, are hard to conceive and 
are necessarily, on account of their rarity, 
much in demand. It seems hard for most 
writers to differentiate the wit and clever 
ingenuity of the good comedy scenario with 
the trivial and frivolous one which is not.” 

To show the desire of the manufacturer to 
get wholesome pictures, the following extract 
is given: 

‘‘Beware of any scenes which may violate 

good taste, manners or morals, and avoid 

all crimes, such as burglary, kidnapping, 

highway robber}'", murder and suicide, showing 

the methods employed in the accomplishment 

of such crimes.” 

The Chicago Notre Dame Club. 


The Notre Dame Club of Chicago held their 
last weekly meeting on Monday, November 
nth. The business of the meeting was chiefly 
concerned with the final arrangements for the 
entertainment of the Notre Dame football 
team. The entertainment will take the form 
of either a banquet or a theatre party, with 
an informal gathering of all N. D. men in the 
city at some prominent hotel after the supper 
or the theatre. The pleasures of the evening 
will not be enjoyed exclusively by the gentle- 
men. The committee gallantly invites the 
presence of the ladies — the wives, sisters or 
sweethearts of the members of the club and 
of their guests. 

Boston Philharmonic Orchestral Club. 

The concert which was rendered -in Washing- 
ton Hall last Saturday evening by the Boston 
Philharmonic Orchestral Club was undoubtedly 
the best musical presentation of the season. 
In point of numbers the concert party was 
the largest that has appeared thus far in 
the course. Led by Mr. J. W. , Crowley and 
assisted by Mme. Clara Sexton, soprano, the 
Orchestral club presented a program of ex- 
ceptional merit. The several vocal selections 
by Mme. Sexton were well rendered and re- 
peatedly encored. The ensemble numbers, par- 
ticularly the finale from “The Quaker Girl” 
were of the highest excellence. Probably the 
most popular, of all the presentations were. the 
violin solos of Mr. Vincent Walkden. 

University Art Exhibition. 

Students of the University should not miss ' 
the opportunity of seeing the excellent exffibit 
of art now on display in the University library. 
There are some eighty or ninety pictures on 
view, sent to us on request of Professor John 
Worden of the Art Department from the.-: Art 
Institute of Chicago. The exhibition consists 
of two groups: first, a series of portraits.-' and 
landscapes by Leon J. Makielski, a talented 
young artist of South Bend; and second, 
selected productions by the pupils of the 
Art Institute. 

All of Makielski’s oil portraits have hung 
upon the walls of the Institute, and were 
awarded the highest prize given by this school 
of art. His landscapes, which are exceptionally 
pleasing, embrace subjects taken from the 
Middle West and .from rural regions of France 
and Italy.. The young artist is now abroad, 
pursuing his art education in Paris. 

The other series of pictures embraces work 
in design and illustration; subjects done from 
life in charcoal, pencil, and water color; and 
pastel work and ornamentation. 

We owe this artistic treat to the courtesy of 
Mr. William M. R. French, director of the Art 
Institute of Chicago. Many of the pictures 
will remain with us permanently to form part of 
our own art collection. This exhibition, which 
will continue for one week more, is the first 
of a series of five to be given this year. Since 
it is true that there is much pleasure and culture 
to be derived from inspecting and studying an 
art exhibit, even for those not technically 
versed, these exhibitions here announced should 
be appreciated and visited. 

Book Review. 

The “Black Brotherhood,” by Rev. P. P. 
Garrold, S. J., is primarily a book for young 
people, but will also be relished by such of their 
elders as wish to renew their youth in the 
delightful incidents of boyish romance. -.The 
tale of three English boys, their various ad- 
ventures, pranks, and sports, is the tale of a 
fast-disappearing type of youth, the manly, self- 
reliant, well-mannered little fellows who knew 
the sting of discipline and how to bear it with- 
out a whimper, the boys who later became 
Wellingtons and Asquiths, whose deeds of 



brain and brawn have made England what 

she is. In choosing his characters, Father 

Garrold shows a natural literary discretion, 

and develops them to the point of intimacy 

and friendship, until you begin to pick out 

Tommies and Alexanders and Williams among 

your youthful acquaintances, 

This delightful novel is published by Benziger 

Bros., New York, Cincinnati, and Chicago. 

Price, net $1.35. 


— Fabian Johnston (E. E- T2), of St. Louis, 
Missouri, visited friends here on Wednesday. 

— Mr. and Mrs. “Red” Kelly, of Kankakee, 
Illinois, called at the University Sunday last. 

— Walter Maguire (M. E. ’12) is at present 
inspector for the Northern Pacific Railroad, 
at Minneapolis, Minnesota. 

— Rev. Luke J. Evers (A. M. ’S6), of New 
York city -was a member of Cardinal Farley’s 
party on the latter’s tour of the .country. 

— Wendell Phillips (B. S. in Architecture, ’12) 
has been placed in charge of the Milford, Mass., 
office of Walter L. Collins, Architect, Boston. 

— “Phil” Phillips (Short M. E.,’ 12), of 
Chicago, is doing engineering work for the 
Kewanee Boiler Co. at Green Bay, Wisconsin. 

— “Bill” Carrico (Commercial ’n) is an 
instructor in the business college of Columbia 
University, Portland, Oregon. “Bill’s ” old friends 
wish him all success in his new undertaking. 

— Forrest Fletcher (Short E. E. ’12), of 
Chicago, is Physical Director at the Utah 
State Normal School, Cedar City, Utah. ‘ ‘ Fletch ’ ’ 
was one of the N. D. men at the last Olympic 

—Bernard (“Dutch”) Lange (Litt. B. ’12), 
in a letter from St. Bonaventure’s Seminary, 
Allegheny, New York, says' he likes the new 
place but misses the lakes of Notre Dame very 

— The ^American Instituted of Architects 

a « 

recently' honored Dean Rolland Adelsperger, 
of the Architectural- Department, with the 
presidency of the Indiana Chapter of the 

—Lawrence A. Williams (student ’06-07) 
has opened a law office at 367 Frick 
Annex, Pittsburg, Pa. Larry has many friends 
among the Faculty and the men of his time. 
Their encouragement and best wishes are his. 

— Guillermo Patterson (Ph. D. ’12) is vice- 
mayor ofgthe City of Panama, and teacher of 
mathematics in the;^ Panama National In- 


stitute. “Pat’s” old friends are glad to leam 
of his success and wish him more of it. 

— Mr. Patrick M. Molloy (LL. B. ’07), as 
assistant to the State Attorney of Oklahoma, 
recently scored a victory in a sensational 
murder case at Tulsa, Oklahoma. “Pat” 
was a member of the V arsity debating team for 
two years. We wish him more and greater 

— In the course of a friendly letter from the . 
Most Rev. J. J. Harty, D. D., Archbishop of J 
Manila, Philippine Islands, His Grace says : > 

“Notre Dame has ever a very warm place in ; 
my heart for the work which it accomplishes, 
and I lose no opportunity of recommending 
it to the scions of Filipino families who have 1 
the means for education in America as the j- 
University best adapted to educate them as t 
Catholic gentlemen and scholars. We see the j 
influence of your University even in these j 
distant parts.” 

— M. A. Diskin (LL. B. ’07) writes as follows 
from Goldfield, Nevada: “Mr. Carville (LL. 

B. ’09) was elected District Attorney of Elko 
County, Nevada, and I was elected District 
Attorney of Esmeralda County. Mr. Herr, 
another old Notre Dame man, was a candidate 
for Justice of the Supreme Court, but lost by 
a small margin. This is a complete list of 
the Notre Dame boys in Nevada, and I am only 
sorry we have not more.” The Scholastic 
congratulates “Mike” and “Ted,” and proph- 
esies a brilliant future for them. 

— The School of Journalism is indebted to 
Mr. S. H. Horgan of Orange, N. J., for some 
interesting gifts. There is a French Grammar 
aud 'a Fourth Year book on Natural History 
which were used by James Gordon Bennett 
while at school, and a copy-book filled with 
the future editor’s French exercises and com- 
positions. Preparatory students will be com- 
forted to know 'that “mal” and “bien mal” 
are scattered abundantly over the pages in 
the handwriting of the indignant professor, 
and on nearly every page James Gordon Bennett 
is directed to do . exercises over or to write a 
word thirty times. 

Mr. Horgan has also presented a number 
of precious manuscripts and letters for which' 
the University sends him grateful thanks. 




Sunday, Nov. 24 — Brownson Literary Society, 7:30. 
Monday, Nov. 25 — Architectural Society, 7:30 p. m. 
Philopatrian Society 5:00 p. m. 

- Orchestra Practice, 7:00. p. m. 

Tuesday — Meeting of “K. of C. 7:45 p. m. 

Meeting of Indianapolis Club, 7:30 p. m. 
Wednesday — Civil Engineering Society, 8:30 p. m. 
Thursday- — Thanksgiving Day. 

Notre Dame vs. Marquette at Chicago, White 
Sox Park. 

Sorin Hall vs. Overlands of Toledo at Toledo. 
Corby vs. Friars of Fort Wayne at Ft. Wayne. 

Local News. 

Lost! — A pearl Rosary. Finder will please 
^return to rector of Sorin hall and receive reward. 

— At a recent meeting of the Sophomore 
class, an informal dance was decided upon, 
and the date set for December 9. 

— Last Sunday morning the Walsh Preps 
added another scalp to their wampum belt 
when they defeated Carroll hall 12 to o. 

— Found — A ring, a fountain pen, some 
keys, cuff-links, tie-pins, knives, and other 
articles. Owners may apply to Bro. Alphonsus, 
Brownson hall. 

— Father Carroll reports with satisfaction 
that English IV passed a very creditable ex- 
amination, that the marks are exceptional. 
But then, could we expect less from our men 
of ’13? 

— The Ph i 1 o p at ri ans^jve re obliged to omit 
their regular meeting this week on account 
of examinations. The little fellows have not 
been idle, however. They have a very inter- 
esting program prepared for next Monday 

— As we all know, Corby journeys to. Ft. 
Wayne Thanksgiving day to give the Friars 
there the battle of their lives. The boys of 
Corby made such an excellent showing at Ft. 
Wayne last Thanksgiving that a return game 
was requested. Have a good time, Corbyites, 
and above all, come back with pelts. 

— We who for years have suffered ourselves 
to be jammed, sardine-like, into the narrow 
confines of one-horse Hill St. cars, may now see 
one fond dream realized. A modern, pay-as- 
you-enter car made its first appearance last 
Monday on the notorious rocky road to town, 
and was greeted by general surprise. Some one 

hinted that the track down Notre Dame Ave 
was laid by the Engineering class of '47, but 
this, we beg to state, is not quite true. 

- — We suppose that the Safety Valve will 
be called upon as usual to publish many of 
the answers to the examination questions. 
It seems to be the sad lot of some poor unfor- 
tunate to make “bulls,” and to have “tomb- 
stones” erected to their memory. In their 
behalf we request the Valve to kindly “go asy.” 

—The Scholastic readers will be glad to 
hear that Walter Eckersall has again extended, 
praise to Notre Dame. In his judgment, 
according to a recent statement in the Chicago 
Tribune , the eleven of old N. D. is the only 
team in the West which can at all dispute 
Wisconsin’s title to the Western Championship. 

— The Dome board officially announces that 
a complete new set of photos of the faculty 
will be taken for the great book of ’13. The 
members of the Faculty, Juniors, and Seniors 
are all kindly requested to have their pictures 
taken at the Hogue Studio as soon as convenient. 
They will be at no, expense, for the Dome will 
foot the bill. 

— Did you notice the battery of cameras 
and kodaks with which Cardinal Farley was 
greeted last Monday morning? On both sides 
of the road, from the Post Office to the Main 
Building, fellows desperately snapped at the 
dignitaries, no doubt giving His Eminence the 
opinion that Notre Dame was a “sure nuf” 
school of Journalism. 

— The cast for the new play ^DavidJSarrick, 
has been formally announced by Prof. Koehler 
and reads as follows : 

Prologue Harold McConnell 

Cast of Characters. 

David Garrick .- Leon P. Gendron 

Mr. Simon Ingot George N. McCoy 

Squire Chivy Joseph Stack 

Mr. Smith Patrick Cunning 

Mr. Brown Vincent. D. Ryan 

Mr. Jones Kingsley Murphy 

Thomas Emmett Lenihan 

George (Garrick’s valet) '. .Cyril Langan' 

Miss Ada Ingot Cecil Birder 

Mrs. Smith Knute Rockne 

Miss Araminta Brown George Lynch 

— We are nearing Thanksgiving with its 
odors of browning turkey, and rich plum- 

pudding, its championship football games, 
and its trip home. There is a restlessness in 
the air that is catching. All are trying 



to decide which is the better — a full meal with 
the loved ones at home, or a trip to Chicago 
which promises excitement and fun. 

— No, that disturbance last Wednesday was 
not a race riot, neither was it a cane rush nor 
a dog fight. Three guileless traveling men, 
laden with samples of Velvet smoking tobacco 
appeared on the campus shortly after dinner 
and were greeted so enthusiastically that the}'' 
fled for safety into the express wagon. Come 
again, brothers, because “everybody's smoking 
it now. ” 

■ - - - - 

Athletic Notes. 

St. Joseph Wins Championship. 

Monday afternoon St. Joseph won the inter- 
hall championship by defeating Sorin 9 to o. 
The victors are fully entitled to the honor as 
they finished the season with a clean slate. 
Three victories, one tie, and no defeats is their 

To the St. Joseph backfield must be given 
the lion’s share of the glory, as it was their 
plunges and end runs that enabled their team 
to score early in the game. Sorin’s line resisted 
all attacks in the first half, whereas the Saints' 
defense was somewhat weak, permitting their 
opponents to make first down a number of times. 

After vainly testing the line, Kane took the 
ball around left end for about 20 yards, bring- 
ing it to Sorin’s 25 -yard line, from which 
point he made a goal from the field. This 
ended the scoring for the first half. 

In the next quarter the St. Joseph line took 
a brace, thus enabling the backs to make more 
consistent gains. By long straight bucks, 
Maloney, Traynor, and O’Donnell brought the 
ball within ten yards of the Sorin goal line 
and an end run by Kane took it over on the 
next play. 

It was not until the last few minutes that 
Sorin threatened St. Joseph’s goal line. A long 
forward pass, O’Connell to Regan, and an end 
r un by O’Connell placed the ball threateningly 
near St'. Joseph’s .goal,, but the calling of time 
rendered the rally fruitless, and left St. Joseph 
unscored, on for the season of 1912. 

Walsh Defeated by Culver. 

Walsh hall received 1 the short end of a 25 
to o score at Culver last Saturday. Although 
the cadets had to fight for every inch of ground, 
their superior weight and teamwork overcame 

the defense of the southsiders. Stiles, Culver’s 
quarterback, put up a magnificent game. 
He circled the ends almost at will, and his 
two forward passes over the goal line for touch- 
downs were perfect. For Walsh, Harvat loomed 
up brightly in his old-time form. He was the 
best ground gainer for Walsh. Matthews pulled 
off some of his long end runs, and Carroll played 
a great game at guard. 

The treatment given the Walsh team by 
' the cadets was the best ever. No efforts -were 
spared to make their visit a, pleasant one. 
The courteous, gentlemanly conduct of their 
opponents during the game, as well as before 
and after it, will long be remembered with 
pleasure by the N. D. team. We want more 
relations of this kind with Culver — more games 
with the class of young men that can fight 
hard for victory without forgetting that they 

are gentlemen. 



The turkey’s in the oven, and 
The spuds are in the pot; 

The pumpkin pie that mother made 
Is large and piping hot. 

There’s one thing I could never see, 

And ma can’t make it clear — 

Why those that made Thanksgiving Bay, 
Can’t have it twice a year. 

W. B. C. 

The Militant oueeragette. 

{Walt Mason, Sir, Your Pardonl ) 

A suffragette was speeching, — and, believe me, 
she could speech — in raucous accents screeching, 
teaching all that she could reach; and I listened with 
rapt ivonder at a courage that ivould dare to select 
a public corner for to rant and tear one’s hair. I 
am not a crabb’d old moss-back, Avorshiping the ob- 
solete; nor a cynic misanthropic snarling at a world 
replete Avith attempts to better mankind by dis- 
coursing on one’s feet. But I can not help reflecting, 
as I vieAv the fleeting years, that Ave should remove 
some people from this transient vale of tears; and 
foremost among those leaAnng, if I had my way, you . 
bet ’tAVOuld be the hoivling, growling, yoAvling, scoavI- 
ing, militant suffragette. “Why are Ave procrasti- 
nating?” shouts Miss Angelina Wops, and full 
soon they’re masticating - fibrous flesh of local 
cops. Enraptured by their noble cause, they next 
proceed to slam the abject old prime minister on his 
shrinking diaphragm. Their idea of civic virtue seems 
to lie in raising — ivell, there is something quite sugges- 
tive in the fiendish way they yell. Theirs may be a 
righteous battle, as they rhapsodize and roar, and • 
mayhaps they, are inspired to smash in Avindoivs by 
the score; maybe they’re justified, progressive, when 
they scratch the copper’s face, but to folks like me — 
old-fashioned— they’re a blot -upon the race.