1915 Yearbook

1915 Yearbook

My Dream. It was the night of the feast of St. Ambrose, a brilliant moonlight evening, but extremely cold. The wind blew fiercely around the tower and at the same time whistled like Boreas did in the days before Ovid had his pipe dreams. I had just retired, and, strange to say, I had not gotten over the effects of the banquet which I had eenjoyed a few hours before. As I lay awake, thinking of the tremendous power and velocity of the wind, it carried me awway to dreamland. I traveled with such speed that I could see only a dense fog, which suddenly disappeared, and I found myself on the fair grounds of the Panama Exposition. There I beheld an earthly paradise, palaces, domes and towers taking the place of nature, beautiful and simple. I marveled at the large gathering of people, and then it dawned upon me, like the sun was coming from behind a dark cloud, that it was St. Ambrose Day at the fair. Imagine my surprise and delight, if you can. I immediately determined to make this the happiest day of my life. With this in view, I began to look around, hoping to meet someone I knew. The first thing that attracted my attention was a large tent from which a sonorous voice issued, announcing that the most extraordinary dwarf from St. Ambrose was there, "In fact, laides in gentlemen, he is the most remarkable on earth." Now, that was interesting, so I hurried in and beheld there my near and dear friend, J. Weaver. "Pete," said I, "what is so very remarkable about you?" "I am the tallest dwarf in existence," replied Pete-nor did he smile. Thinks I, the days of wonders are not yet gone, so I passed on in search of new marvels. I had hardly left the tent when I met Frank Sybert. He was dressed in crimson tights and was just as robust as ever. Knowing that "Kewpie" was a stern advocate pf strict observance of holidays, I asked, "What are you doing out here?" "Oh I am making a balloon ascension daily." And then he remarked proudly, "I owe my ambition to rise inn the world to St. Ambrose College." I was interrupted at that moment by a newsnoy, shouting, "Extra! Extra! Hughes wins in the auto race!" Stopping only long enough to say, "So long, 'Kewpie'; I'll see you later," I pursued the boy and rad victor's words, "I was confident thaat I could win, and my success is due to my inging at St. Ambrose, where for three long years, I daily stepped over to a small stand, where I could read my paper in seclusion, but I saw a souvenir book of the S.A.C. Its exterior was decoratedc with pictures of the Boulevard, the jug-room and the track. The interior was devoted to such melancholy thoughts, as: "If Buckley left table no.9, my desire for a cup of real S.A.C. tea got the better of me, so I began my search for a restaurant.- found onw, and went in. There was nobody home but the Bulls-neck, and that had company. "Hungry," Whalen was there, partaking od the delicacy, and I asked him was prayer he liked best. He answered, "Grace before meals." I was now thoroughly homesiclk. The next place I want

1915

St. Ambrose University, 518 W. Locust St., Davenport, IA 52803

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