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The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, May 14, 1921, Image 7

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90060976/1921-05-14/ed-1/seq-7/

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"O words are lightly spoken,"
Said Pearse to Connolly,
"Maybe a breath of politic words
Has withered our Rose tree
Or maybe but a wind that blows
Across the bitter sea."
It needs to be but watered,"
James Connolly replied,
"To make the green come out again
And spread on every side,
And shake the blossom from the bud
To be the garden's pride."
"Bat where can we draw water,"
Said Pearse to Connolly,
"When all the wells are parched away!
O plain as plain can be,
There's nothing but our own red blood
Can make a right Rose tree."
W. B. Yaata. In Th• Nation.
We, In this land of plenty, must think
of dear Tralee,
We can't forget our mother town* in
that valley by the sea
They are carrying on the struggle,
and the least that we can do
Is to send some help to show them
that we're with them through and
Think of the friends you left behind,
your schoolmates young and gay,
In their bitter situation they call on
you today
They call to you for succor, will you
listen to their plea?
Surely you won't unheed the call that
comes from sweet Tralee.
From Oakpark, out to Blennerville:
from Strand Road and the Rock,
The call comes out to us from those
who bear the battle's shock
From Ballyseedy to Ballyard, Ballo
nagh, Boherbee,
Bridge street, The Mall, and Castle
street, they call us from Tralee.
Think of the hungry children, the
women lone and drear,
iHifeir men are hunted on the hills, but
still they have no fear
They are suffering for old Ireland.
and though the sky looks black,
Tralee men keep on fighting, led by
gallant Austin Stack.
Tralee, we hear you calling, and you
will not call in vain,
From Columbia we will help you.
with all our might apd main
Your sons and daughters honor you,
though far across the se&,
God's blessing on you, dear old town
we love you, sweet Tralee.
—John P. BradUp.
Tralee men and women worthy of
the name are surely longing for a spe
cial opportunity to prove their affec
tionate loyalty to their former fellow
townsmen in distress.
A list of the names of those whe
contribute upwards of $2, and of those
who give less, if they request it, will
appear in the Tralee papers. The
money will be forwarded througt
Mrs. McWhorter of Chicago.
Already we have met with very en
conraging success, as one contribution
of $25, two of $10 each, one for $5
and one for $? have been received.
Please make your checks payable
to John Pearse, Treasurer Tralee Re
lief Committee, and address them tc
St. Paul's Rectory, care Rev. J.
Devane, Center, Ralls County, Mis
Up, Tralee men, wherever you may
be, and to the rescue for Auld Lang
What is the moon-calf? Now that
he is making his appearance in con
temporary literature, the question has
point. Shakespeare uses the term in
"The Tempest." In Scene II of Act
III, Caliban, the deformed slave, Ste
phano, the drunken butler and Trin
culor, the jester, have the .stage
Stephano bids Caliban speak: "Moon
calf, speak once in thy life, if thov
beest a good moon-calf." Trinculor
had previously exclaimed: "Servant
monster! The folly of this island!
They say there's but five upon this
isle: we are three of them if th'
state totters." Is this the first ref
erence to the moon calf in literature?
Mr. Floyd DelJ, ii^a current number
of "Vanity Fair," analyzes the term
with reference to its present meaning
According to him the moon calf is
hopelessly at large and is becoming
"an increasingly important type in
American civilization." If this be
true there is little room for flattery.
The moon calf despises democracy,
is eccentric, egotistical, and caddish.
"Concerning art, the moon calf's
views are clear and irritating. If it
sells for real money, it isn't art. If
people like it, it isn't art. If an or
dinary person can understand it, it
isn't art." -Mr. Dell is the modern
creator of the moon calf in a book
by that name. Taken in conjunction
"with "Main Street" and "Poor White,"
we now have a fiction trio which
penetrates deeply into the realities of
American life
—Th» Echo.
•There is no bigger problem facing
service men today than the ques
tion of religion. In fact there is no
larger problem in the vorld, says the
Legionnaire. Take any issue before
the people anywhere, be it sordid
profiteering or the diplomatic squab
ble over the island of Yap, and after a
process of analyzation the question
resolves itself into a matter of mor
ale. or a lack of morals.
Of late there have been several
it men going hack and forth
lis country, such as Roger
Habson, who have pointed out the
fact that what is needed in business
or the home or government to remedy
its serious present day defects is not
so much legislation or some new fan
gled man-made system, but religion.
It is well, therefore, that the serv
ice man pause on this week day and
reflect just what is his attitude on re
ligion. Nothing is of more importance
to himself or his cause than that in
cluded in the subject. For if a man
is without religion he has no con
science. Without conscience he has
not the moral stability to choose be
tween right and wrong. Lacking such
moral stability his cause is lost be
cause it countenances only self and
seeks to impose self above natural
laws and the welfare of all.
Therein lies the danger and it is
well that the service .man should see
the point. The troubles in the world
today are not due to lack of legisla
tion or the failure of governmental ac
tion, but are due to the lack of relig
ion among individuals. This has re
sulted in a more decided refusal to
obey laws and the process gradually
enlarges until even governments are
Scratch a radical, for instance, and
vou touch a man who doesn't believe
'n the home, state, or God. He recog
nizes no laws that are not made by
self. Russia today is an example of
that state of mind. They call murder
?ood government and loot and pillage
are synonymous to their way of think
ing with order and prosperity.
The United States is not without
its egotists. They are at work right
now throughout the land seeking to
overthrow, not alone the government,
but homes as well. The service men
must look to the future generation,
for he will not always be here. Is
that generation started already on the
nath of righteousness are parents
showing them the way to religion
without which in another day there
can be no patriots, no defenders of
the flag, no supporters of the home?
We don't know we only wonder.
But the question is: What are serv
ice men doing to improve conditions?
Are they showing by example where
their hearts lie? Are they supporting
the church? Are they coopeiating
with it?
If not, they should. No service man
or his cause can succeed without due
recognition of the moral issues that
are bound up with religion and tiie
(For the Catholic Bulletin by Sem
Oft' times I think of wondrous deeds,
Of love and wealth and friends.
Bright fantasies of happiness
But one sweet thought I love to keep
In memory's review—
Let sorrow come, I will not lose
My vision sweet of you,
Of you, dear heart, of you.
My heart is so full tenanted
With hopes of bright success,
That fed by youth, it overflows
In dreams of happiness.
But in the center, hidden deep
Where none on earth can view,
\way from all else in the world
I've saved a place for you,
For you, dear heart, for you.
What joy to speak the kindest words
To friends borne down with care
Or whisper sacred litanies
When bowed in humble prayer!
But one sweet word I love to speak
That thrills my poor soul through—
When death shall come I know I'll
My Mother, dear, for- you,
For you, dear heart, for you.
The musket said to have been giv
en to Alexander Selkirk when he was
put ashore on the island of Juan Fer
nandez, 400 miles off the Chilean
coast, has been going the rounds of
British museums.
It was Selkirk's adventures upon
which was based De Foe's famous
story, "Robinson Crusoe." The mus
ket is inscribed with the name of "A
Selkirk Largo, 1771." It was pur
chased by Randolph Berens for $6.25,
but the owner has insured it for $10,
Selkirk owned a tavern near Clap
ham, but died in 1726 at sea as a lieu
tenant aboard a naval vessel.
After ten years of work, C. W. En
ders, Elizabethville, Pa., sixty-five
years old. has completed a combina
tion apostolic clock and writing desk,
Tvhich i» drawing visitors from every
section of the state as an unusual
s^cimen of wood carving. Ten years
ago, Mr. Enders met with an acci
dent which compelled him to retire
from business. At that time he started
work on the clock and desk.
The desk part is composed of twelve
drawers which are covered by a drop
lid. There are two clock dials, one
immediately above the desk section
and one surmounting the entire piece.
On the left of the lower dial is a
figure representing Moses, the law
giver. and on the right is the prophet
Elijah, the two representing the Old
Testament. A figure of Christ stands
within a small temple near the upper
clock dial. Each of the hours is rep
resented by small figures of the apos
tles, which pass before the temple.
All turn in the procession to do Him
honor except Judas, who goes straight
ahead without facing the temple. Just
before the apostles start the march
chimes begin to play and continue
until they are out of sight and the
upper clock strikes the hour.
For a long time the. length of hair
was considered a mark of caste in
France. Only members of the royal
family and princes of the blood could
wear their hair long. Rolled hair was
a sign of obedience and inferiority.
To cut the hair of a prince was to de
prive him of his right of succession
to the throne.
Notwithstanding these facts, Char
lemagne liked to wear his hair short.
The name of his son, Charles the
Bald, indicates the style of coiffure he
affected. The Emperor Theophilus
was also afflicted with a bare crown
and he, to shun the notoriety of it,
strongly urged his subjects to cut the
hair on their heads, advancing numer
ous reasons, sanitary and otherwise,
for' its accomplishment.
Charles W. Eliot, president emeri
tus of Harvard university, addressing
the Harvard Dames, said he had ob
served a coarsening in manners of
young folks in recent years and,
speaking as "an old-fashioned man,"
"In the' first place there is the
coarsening of greetings and goodbyes.
The commonest salutation, which I
hear, is 'bfallo, Bess' or 'hullo, Jack.'
Unheard of in my youth. I am told,
too that young men and women tap
and shove each other, with much en
ergy. Unheard of in my prime.
"Next comes the great familiarity
in social intercourse. Young men aijd
young women nowadays talk chiefly
slang. Their conversation is rough
and relates to things that the young
men and women 'of my day never re
ferred to at all.
"I also notice that young women
expect to encounter rudeness from
men and that they don't resent it.
"Young women don't seem to re
sent gross misconduct toward them by
men. You have all known young
women to be seized on during a dance
by intoxicated men, under the new
custom called 'cutting in.' That has
happened within my range of ac
quaintance over and over again in pri
vate dances in Boston."
Francis Barraud, the English artist
who painted the famous Victor phon
ograph trade-mark, "His Master's
Voice," has been given an annuity of
$1,250 by the phonograph company
his picture helped make famous.
The gift is "because of the commer
cial value of the picture to the com
pany," who bought it over 20 years
ago from Mr. Barraud for $500.
"I was very pleased with the price
at that time," said Mr. Barraud.
"The annuity came as a great sur
prise to me. It was entirely unso
"I painted it as a subject picture.
The little dog was 'Nipper,' a terrier
who belonged to my brother.
"When my brother died he would
stay with no one but myself.
"I painted him at- first with a black
japanned horn, but when I showed it
to a friend he suggested that a brass
horn would look much better.
"So I went to try to borrow one
from the phonograph company. They
asked me what I wanted it for, and
I showed the picture.
"They asked me if it was for sale,
and the transaction was carried out.
"I had offered it for exhibition at
the Royal Academy, but it was re
The phonograph* company has a
copy of the picture at every branch
in America and other countries.
Mind your eyes don't let them see
Things you know ought not to be.
Mind your tongue don't let it say
Unkind, cruel words today.
Mind your ears don't let them hear
Gossip. Of it stand in fear.
Mind your hands don't let them do
What may bring deep grief to you.
Mind your feet don't let them go
Where your conscience tells you, No!
—The Chlldrtn's Comrada.
In his studio an artist was intently
studying the photograph of a nun
From time to time his earnest gaze
turned toward an easel on which
rested the unfinished picture of a
young girl mounted on a beautiful
gray horse. The face in the painting
was not finished, nor were the hands,
and the brow of the painter was
clouded in a fruitless endeavor to
catch some tangible expression to put
on canvas. The artist's young wife
entered the studio quite unobserved
he was in deepest thought when she
touched him lightly on the shoulder.
"Who is the fair lady troubling your
inspiration?" she asked playfully.
He showed her the photograph of
the nun.
"That Is the picture of my old
teacher—Sister Maria Teresa. Strange
how the memory of her has haunted
"Do teli me all about* her!" en
treated his wife, her curiosity and
sympathy ready for absorbing atten
"There's not much to tell, Louise.
I was a young boy, ten or twelve,
when first I entered her class, while
she might have been twenty-eight or
nine. Funny how these things fix
themselves in memory after a lapse
of so many years! It never struck us
that she was so much older—she
seemed to be only a few years our
senior. To us children she was al
ways young. She was very "reserved
Our first impression, I remember so
well, was that she was of a nationality
On the extreme right, is a figure of
Jlisti.ro holding the balance in her1 different from our own although she
handa, {spoke very fine English, it was with
a decided foreign accent. At times
she seemed a creature from quite an
other world, and sometimes we little
fellows used to think there were an
gels hovering around her. She nevei
spoke of her past, although we often
wished she would tell us something
about herself. Of a determination
that might almost amount to stubborn
ness, in the end, she usually led one
to feel that she was right.
"She coaxed the pupils to do the
things, her way, until, before we knew
it, Sister Maria Teresa's views of
life, people and things were coloring
all our own.
"She had become an influence in
our lives—a power in the school. I
remember so well when she first
came, and how the older boys had
tried to torment her, as all boys will.
She never said a reproving word, but,
oh, she looked her displeasure! All
we got for several days was a steady
piercing glance which peemed to read
every thought in our hearts. We
weren't used to that sort of 'eye dis
cipline,' so its effect was not the most
"One day we were more unruly than
usual. She was drawing at the board
when suddenly she turned and in a
low, scornful and indignant tone,
said: 'Boys, act fairly! Don't you
know it is one of the meanest things
you can do, to talk when my back is
turned, or when I am out of the
room?' Then she told us in a few
chosen words what she wanted in the
line of conduct, giving us her ideal
of a manly boy, and ended thus:
'Children, there are'men, living today,
who would rather you would kill them
than accuse them of a dishonorable
action. Aim to belong to that class.'
That was all, but never were her
words forgotten by any boy in the
room. She resumed her work quietly
and a hush fell over us. She had
revealed herself at last.
"When she was sent to a far-distant
mission, Sister Maria Teresa carried
away with her the purest love of
childish hearts, though I don't think
she ever half guessed how much we
did admire her. I never saw her
since. This picture I coaxed from the
Reverend Mother some years ago. As
a little act of homage to the memory
of one who stands on a high mountain
apart, and, even more, as a result of
an outburst of artistic fancy, I am
endeavoring to paint Sister Maria
Teresa as I imagine she used to be,
as a girl, in her beautiful Southern
But now, here is the strange part
of my story. You remember four
years ago I spent the winter in Cuba.
While stopping at a hotel I met a
Cuban who, learning of my fondness
for horses, often took me for long
drives behind his ponies. One day he
invited me to visit a friend with him—
a rich planter who had recently pur
chased a large shipment of American
horses. This man proved to be a very
genial fellow, and, during the course
of our conversation, he announced his
intention of trying his trotters the
following week. Naturally, he invited
us to witness the races so, on the
following Thursday, I found myself,
with my Cuban friend and our host,
seated on camp chairs, watching a
most exciting race between four beau
tiful gray horses, two of them Ameri
can bred.
"You may be sure tfyat myenthus
asm knew no bounds when I saw our
horses first keep. neck to neck with
the others, then dash gloriously ahead.
It seemed as if they realized that the
honor of the United States was theirs
to defend. I soon found my anima
tion quite equally shared, by a Cuban,
seated directly in front of me. Sud
denly he turned and, addressing me in
very good English, said: 'You ought
to be very proud, Senor, of your coun
try.' 'Of course,. I am,' I replied
When formally introduced, I found
that the young man had never visited
the States. Because of a whim of his
father's, he had acquired all his
knowledge of English in a school in
London, but he hoped in the near
future to visit an aunt, a Sister of
Mercy, living in California In a sud
den burst of confidence, he said:
'Father has never forgiven your coun
try-women for stealing my aunt from
us. She was his youngest and favor
ite sister. When she returned to
Cuba, aftei an absence of three years,
at a New York school, her heart re
mained in the convent where she left
it. Two years of coaxing and praying
followed, till at last she succeeded in
winning father's consent to let her be
come a nun. We all missed her, for
she was everybody's chum. She could
ride and shoot as well as any of her
father's friends. She could sing, play,
and dance divinely, and oh, how she
loved the races! No one, who ever
knew her merry girlhood, would ever
think of her becoming a nun but she
's very happy, so she writes. And,
indeed, she is doing a world of good
where she is, and we feel that heri
prayers are blessing us now.'
'I know not why, unless it be that
I attended a school taught by the Sis
ters of Mercy—but your story reminds
me of an old friend of mine—her
name was Sister Maria Teresa.'
'Why, that is my aunt's name in
religion!' he cried excitedly. Then,
drawing out his watch from his pock
et, on the open lid I saw the picture of
my teacher, Sister Maria Teresa.'"
"And that is the nun we are ex
pecting to see this winter?" the art
ist's wife asked him.
"Yes. My Cuban friend wrote me,
some time ago, that at last he had
made arrangements to visit bis aunt,
and that he would stop over to see
us on the way. When I answered him
that you and I, who are free to fol
low our own sweet wills, would be
glad to accompany him. he expressed
his joy that we should have the pleas
ure of traveling together. And, my
der, the picture on the easel is meant
as a little surprise for him."
There is a lesson in the death of
5oy SterrittV farm My, Which Snnst
not be lost. The story is a tragic one,
with many tnjt upon Iho heart
One night, in mid-December, Joy
Sterritt rode out upon his father's
farm to round up some cattle, in
preparation for a sale to be held the
next day. He rode a horse which his
mother had expressly forbidden him
to ride. The horse shied at some
thing, threw the boy into a creek in
the pasture, breaking his spine and
paralyzing his body from the hips
down. Unable to extricate himself,
Joy Sterritt remained in the creek,
supported by the ice, all through that
cold December night until morning
came, when his strength failed and he
slipped down to his death.
During the night, with the aid of a
flashlight, he. wrote messages to his
mother. As the hours passed, and he
realized the end was approaching,
these messages, became ever more
tender and loving. Through them all
ran remorse that he had brought this
trouble upon himself and this grief
upon others by disobedience Like
wise there ran through them all un
conquerable faith in the God to #hom
he turned in his misery.
"God bless you, mother, I would be
better off if I had always listened to
your advice," he wrote in the early
hours of the night. "Don't worry
about me, for I feel sure that God is
with me tonight. Oh, mother, I am
so glad that I was brought up in a
Christian home," he wrote later on.
As the hours wearily wore away, he
described his position and his suffer
ing. Always he asked those who
loved him not to grieve. Always he
was remorseful because he had been
disobedient. Always that faith in God
ran through the painfully scrawled
lines. A short time before morning,
when the inevitable was almost upon
him, he roused himself enough to
write: "Maybe somebody will see my
flashlight and come. I'm going to
keep up as long as I have strength.
I do want to see you all so much.
There is a verse keeps running
through my head, and it is so beauti
ful: 'God so loved the world, that He
gave His only begotten Son, that who
soever believeth in Him should not
perish, but have everlasting life.'"
And then, at the last, "Well, mother,
dear, it will soon be over. I'm is a
hurry to go now. My suffering will
soon be over." .?
O Disobedience, how much suffer
ing comes from thee! O Faith, how
much solace comes from thee! Dis
obedience sent Joy Sterritt to die in
his father's pasture. But Faith bore
him up, in the zero hour of the early
morning, and took him to bis Father's
From the dawn of time man has de
lighted in contests, whether between
individuals who match their strength
and skill, or between animals.
Some of these contests are decided
ly quaint as, for instance, the cock
crowing matches of Belgium, where
specially bred and trained fowls are
matched to see which will crow the
greatest number of times within a
certain time limit.
The lark-singing contests of Eng
land are far more musical, these con
tests being promoted and conducted
by an association having a good mem
bership. The birds are kept for some
time in a dark room, and then placed
before a mirror in the light. Imagin
ing his own reflection to be a rival,
the bird at once bursts into song, a
careful record being made of the
length of the song.
There used to be in Hamburg a fa
mous collection of wild animals which
included a number of giant tortoises,
each weighing several hundred
pounds. Children would mount upon
the backs of these strange steeds, and,
holding a lettuce leaf on the end of a
stick just beyond the reach of the tor
toise, coax them into an amusing race
toward a fixed goal.
Much more exciting are the turtle
races which may be witnessed in some
of the South American countries.
Turtle fishers select a number of the
great sea turtles, and attired in bath
ing costumes, mount their backs,
grasping the forepart of the shells
with both hands. The turyes are
then released and at once make for
the sea. Ordinarily the turtle would
plunge with his rider to the bottom
of the sea, but this the jockey would
prevent by throwing his weight on
the back part of the shell and at the
same time pulling the forward part up
w i i s a n s w i k e e s e a n i-J
mal's head above the surface By
pulling the shell to the right or left,
the rider is able to guide his mount, i
and a circle is made about a boat an-!
chored off shore, and so back to the
starting point. Thejse turtles cover
a course pf eight or nine miies in
astonishingly short time.
We have always believed that a
boy's greatest pal should be his father.
While amusing, it is a source of keen
delight to hear the small boy bragging
to his companions that his father
"can lick" all the policemen, firemen
etc., in the wide world. It gives us
an inkling of the position won by his
father in the boy's affection1 and con
fidence. Too often does the male
parent neglect the opportunities which
affect his progeny's future.'
One editor analyzes a boy's distrust
for his father in the following words:
"Some fathers constantly nag, find
faults, and never think of praising
their sons or expressing any appre
ciation of their work, even when they
do it well. Yet there 4s nothing so
encouraging to a boy, especially if he
finds it hard to do what is right, as
real appreciation of his effort. This
is a tonic to youth. Boys thrive on
praise. This is why most of them
think more of their mothers than of
their fathers—because their mothers
are more considerate, more apprecia
tive, more affectionate, and do not
hesitate to praise them when they do
well. They are naturally more gener
ous with them less exacting than
their fathers. I know a man who
takes a great jeal of pains to keep
i tlie confidence of his pet dog. He
College of Saint Teresa
^Registered for Teachers' License by the New York Board of Regents.
Accredited by the Association of American Universities.
Holds Membership in the North Central Association of Colleges.
Standard degree courses in Arts and Science leading to degrees Of
Bachelor of Arts and Bachelor of Science.
A thoroughly equipped High School for Girti
SAINT PAWL, MINN. Telephone Dale 0535
Ambition Leads to Training
and training opens to you
the, wide field of business
with its great opportun
Decide today—new—1o enroll
Day or Night School
"itadtrs In Business Education"
Gh rii-id 4 tt*
2nd Floor Hamm Bidg., S*. Paul, Minn.
Piano, Harmony, Violin, Mandolin, Guitar, Zither, Banjo, Voice, Blocvtlon,
Language. Painting, Drawing, China Decorating
I'uviU may enter at tiny time
Ca]l or irnd for term* I.eaaonn
SL Benedict's College and Academy
(Jnder the patronage of the Right Reverend Joseph F. Busch, D. D., Bishop
of St. Cloud.
THE COLLEGE—Offers a four years' course, leading' to the dej|r«« of.
Bachelor of Arts.
THE ACADEMY—Offers a four years' course, preparing for College.
Catalog mailed upon application to "Sister Directress."
An Institution for the Professional Training
of Grade Teachers for Parochial Schools
Affiliated to the College of Saint Teresa
In the History of the Rasmussen School
The earnest teaching:, progressive method* and splen
did equipment of this bite school induce students to coma
from far and near.
To meet the great demand for graduates, the school
has day and evening sessions the entire year.
Students are enrolling now for spring and summer
term. Illustrated catalog mailed free anywhere upon re
quest. Phone Cedar 5833.
ICS E. Fifth St., bet. Robert and Jarkaon Ste.
Oae of the largest and best equipped business'
schools in America. WALTER RASMUSSEN. ProBrl*t«r
Villa Maria Academy
would not think of whipping or scold
ing him because he wonld not risk
losing his affection, but he is always
scolding his boy, finding fault with
everything he does, criticizing his con
duct, his associates, and telling him
that he will never amount to any
thing. 'Now, what chance has a boy
to grow, to develop the best thing in
him. In such an atmosphere? You
should regard the confldential'relation
Conducted by the URSULINE NUNS
Send for Catalog and Complete Information.
Vice Pre«ident.
dnrin( vacatloa
St. Joseph's Hospital
—-—For particulars——
Superintendent of
between yourself and your son as one
of the most precious things in your
life, and should never take chances
of forfeiting it. It costs something
to keep it, but it is worth everything
to you and to the boy. I never knew
a boy to go v^ry far wrong who re
gards his father ancf his mother as
his best friends and hoops no sorrels
from them."

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