The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1918-08-31
0l4k9WEDDlNo RINGS
'SmilGeist
COLD AND SiLvERSMiTH
% east Sixth Street

asked eagerly.
The old man smiled.
my goodness, yes,' he answered
emphatically. Il think that a we'll
founded, noble friendship is panacea
for many ills, of the heart and soul as
well as of the mind
Linden was Immediately beset with
an almost irresistible inclination to
tell all, to unburden himself, to this
kind and sympathetic listener. How
ever, impelled by one of those strange
inward promptings to which we all are
at times subject he refrained from
doing SO and few minutes later was
and saying good-by.
1t was not until the moment of
farewell, that the mask, which had so
effectually hidden the youths inner
being, slipped, and then only for an
instant. However, there remained
with the priest forever afterwards,
indelibly stamped into his conscious
look which the boy gave him-that
last yearning, haunted appealing,
agoniZed glance from out the deep-set,
thoughtful eyes.
The snow was thick upon the
ground and very clean. How pretty
the huge college grounds looked, and
the scattered buildings with their yell
low squares of light! From the gym
nasium came the mingled sounds of
laughter and loud talk, interspersed
with the moaning treble of a lame
mandolin.
Acting on the impulse of the mo-
ment, Linden turned sharply to the
right With few rapid strides he
reached the historic old pile wherein
| for generations had been developed
the sinews - and with them, the
morals-of the young bloods of the
city and the neighboring towns.
| Standing back in the dark, Ed looked
through the curtainless windows.
| There they were the boarders, all
| engaged in divers occupations, pre-,
sided over by a project, in cassock
and biretta. Some chatted together
in groups, others bOwled, some played
hand ball, while still others were en-
gagged with the various apparatus. A
| few actually had the temerity to at
tempt studying amid the bedlam
| which reigned. He of the mandolin
was nowhere to be seen, possibly hav
ing learned that discretion is the
better part of valor.
1t was an attractive picture. They
were all so healthy, so happy, sc
youthful, so full of promise. The
watcher outside smiled with approval
and vaguely wished that some time
during his twenty odd years Fate had
given him a taste of this life. Yes
he smiled with pleasure as he viewed
the wholesome sight, but, suddenly
without warning, the cloud descended
upon him, black and heavy. All mirtf
vanished from his heart, and old anG
haggard, he dragged his footsteps
over the campus in the direction oil
the street car.
Midway across the field he halted
abruptly, and throwing back his head
gazed upward towards the great ex
panse OF sky, on past the myriad oil
stars, straight into the eyes of God
Obllvious of time and of the colo
north wind which blew his cheeks
pink, he stood long and motionless
wrapped in silent prayer. At last, q
smile Overspread his features, and
Destirring himself, he threw a kiss
heavenWard and, child at heart
once more, hurried through the snow
The next morning, bright and early
Linden was at his desk in the office
of the Standard Publishing Company
A new life seemed to animate him, q
new hope, and his fellow employees
noticed the change. Even the Super
intendent became aware of it.
What's the matter with Linden? o
he inquired of an assistant. eve
never seen him in such spirits"
| Possibly he's got an offer with
some other concern" was the tactful
reply.
The Superintendent growled and
remained wordless.
All morning Linden worked assidu
ously, keeping ever before his minds
eye that vision of hope which had
been opened up to him by Father
Vendrone's remarks on friendship
AS had happened often throughout
every day and night for many weeks,
the cloud, from time to time, would
descend upon him, but today, by dint
OF sheer will power, he refused to see
the cloud or to feel it's presence.
At times, however, SO suddenly did
the shadow fall across him, that.
stunned, he would lay down his pen,
and, gazing around quickly to see that
he was unobserved, draw his hand
YEARLY across his brow and groan
Then, in desperation, he would address
himself furiously to his work.
| The mon hour arrival and +ho o,,,