Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 43, Number 107, 16 March 1918 — Page 11

THE JUNIOR PALLADIUM WEEKLY SECTION OF RICHMOND PALLADIUM

ST. MARY'S EDITION 8T. MARY'S EOITIOM RICHMOND PALLADIUM, MARCH 1, 3911 r

ST. PATRICK'S LOVE OF IRELAND It was early in the fifth century that Patrick, no longer a captive, returned to the land of his captivity. He came a free man, bringing with him all the power of a grand intellect in the full vigor of glorious manhood, to break the chains of those who once held him captive; to break the chains whereby Ireland was held in spiritual bondage, to bring forth to God's church, not one district, but the whole nation, which, having once received the Catholic faith, would ever after be a standing testimony to the words of the Saviour, "Upon this Rock I wil build my Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.' St. Patrick's second coming to the Irish shores was of his own free will, for drawn by the irrestible love of Christ, he longed to preach the Gospel of light and peace to those benighted people. He longed to teach them the truth of God, in which they would be made free. His sould was filled with that ardent zeal kindled in 1he hearts of the disciples of Christ on the day of Pentacost. He had come like, his Divine Master, to cast upon that island the lire of God's love, and like his Master, he willed that is should be kindled. Casimir Reilly, St. Mary's School.

CLONTARF Stand ye now for Erin's glory! Stand ye now for Erin's cause! Long you've groaned beneath the vigor Of the Northerner's savage laws. "What tho' brothers league against us, What tho' myriads be the foe? Victory will be more honored In the myried's overthrow. God of Heaven, bless our banner! Nerve our sinews for the strife, Fight wt now for all that's holy, For our Altars, land and life! "For our Altars," that was the keynote. Brother might war against brother, king against king, yes, even son against father, but at that magic word, all were one. Clontarf was a victory, the Danes were defeated, but the Irish nation had suffered an almost irreparable loss. Its political system was destroyed and Ireland soon fell, almost without resistance into the grasp of England. J. Griffin Jay, St. Mary's School. KAISER WILHELM Kaiser Wilhelm was hoeing corn, On the fence his pants he had torn. So Bill a new pair did get, Which were so heavy they made him sweat So hoeing corn he did no more, And as you know he went to war, And thinking he knew more, I guess He made himself an earthly pest. By Marion Thomas, SB Garfield School. The Good Shepherd At Xmas out school gave an entainment and with the money we made we bought a picture called "The Good Shepherd." The Good Shepherd is Jesus. He has a flock of sheep. He is holding a lamb in his arms. He has a crook and has neither hat nor coat and no shoes. The Shepherd is a good kind man. We learn about Him at Sunday school. All the big people are His sheep and the little folks are His lambs. We should learn to love the Good Shepherd and to listen to His Voice. Anna A. Gauch, West Manchester, Ohio. MORNING The beautiful sun is now rising, From behind an eastern hill; 'Twill soon be shining in the heavens. And brightening the old stone mill. By Bertha Miles, Age 13, Sth Grade, Columbian School, Dist. No. 6, Richmond, Ind. We must have reasons for speech but we need none for silence. Wisdo mis better than riches. There is no pathway of flowers leading to glory.

GAY DOG DRIVES Mrs. Ben Austrian and FALM BEACH, Fla., March 16 "Brutus" is a great chauffeur. Not a Barney Oldfield or a Bob Burman, you understand, for "Brutus" doesn't go in for speed. But he's like many chauffeurs in our cities he does a very clever job of posing, whatever little he ST. PATRICK'S DAY The dawn of the seventeenth of March ushers in the day set apart yb the the Church for the commemoration of Ireland's saint. On its breath are borne the odors of the early spring. A new life is awakening in the world or nature. In the Emerald Isle, and largely throughout the Englishspeaking world, it has been awaited with eager anticipation. It is a day for festivity and rejoicing. Solemn services are held in the church, where the life and work of the great Apostle are commemorated. Faith, hope and charity are renewed in the heart of the worshiper; and new resolves are formed for faithfulness in every life. There is rejoicing everywhere. Men cease their grind of toil, and neighbor and neighbor meet. Under the blue sky, amid the carol of birds, and the voice of the streamlet, the day is celebrated with joy and gladness. The city is gay with flags and processions, and everybody wears an emerald badge. Children enter into the spirit of the day. Young men and maidens, men and women, who are bearing the burdens of life, the aged whose life work is almost done all are influenced by the occasion, which lends a new grace to life and ennobles every thought and act. Gail Hunt, St. Marys School. COAL The heavy black mineral we use for stoves and furnaces and bailers was formed many years ago. Most of it was found thousand's of years ago. Coal is found deep down in minfs. The coal comes from the mines. It is black, hard and is used for heating and keeping the rooms warm. Th different kinds of coal are anthracite. It is used for heating. And hard coal is used for gas, our best friend. The coal gives good like in dark nights. Coal Is used for heating, we could hardly live if we had no coal. Joseph Hilterman, th Grade, St. Andrews School. Poverty is no crime.

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her dog "Brutus." may know about driving his car Should his mistress, Mrs. Ben Austrian, wife of the well-known artist, refuse to let "Brutus" have the wheel mornings when they are out for their drive he would become peevish to an alarming degree and his whole day would be spoiled. THE SHAMROCK The Shamrock or Trefoil, of Ireland, is the emblem of the Irish land and people, and is worn as a badge on St. Patrick's Day. Some there are who tell us that the true shamrock is the red clover; others assert that it is the white; and still others insist upon another variety. It does not matter. The name comes from the old Gaelic word seamrog, which means trefoil, or three leaved, and will apply to all varieties. The shamrock is beautiful in color and graceful in figure. It is the richest of pasturage. It is charming alike in its fragrance and in the simple beauty of its blooms. Very ancient legend connects it with the Irish Apostle in a manner which recalls a picture from the Saviour's "Sermon on the Mount." We may well suppose that Jesus, when speaking to the multitude, stopped and plucked from the ground a lily of the field and held it aloft as an object lesson as he said: "Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow. They labor not, neither do they spin. But I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was hot arrayed as one of these." Likewise, it is said St. Patrick in his address to the multitudes would stop and pluck from the soil a single stalk of the beautiful shamrock amid which he was standing, end holding It aloft would present it as an emblem of the Holy Trinity. While the stalk represented the oneness of God the three leaves which he touched with his fingerB. one by one, illustraated the Trinity of Father and Son, and Holy Spirit. Edwin Herman, St. Mary's School. WASHINGTON I love to tell the story Which every child should know, How Washington with glory, Led us against the foe. Ethel Heithaus, Garfield School. WASHINGTON. Washington was a great man, He loved his country and his land He helped to make it ever free, From cruel kings for you and me Ethel Heitbaus, Garfield School.

LOYALTY We never stood on Irish ground, Nor breathed the balmy air That blows across old Ireland's hills And through her valleys fair. We never saw KlUkaracy's lakes, Nor sweet Avorca's streams; We never gazed on Cashel Rock Except in holy dreams. And yet we prize each inch of ground That dear old St. Patrick blessed And next to fair America, We love old Ireland best. Columbia claims no fonder child, No putriot more true; We die for any star that glows Upon her flag's fair blue. The Celtic blood within our veins Is thrilled with honest pride, When we behold the Stars and Stripes That tyranny defied; And yet there's room within our hearts For Erin's green and gold, The colors which our fathers would With holy pride unfold.

Our fathers who for flag and faith Have fought and freely bled O, tell us not the cause is lost For which their blood was shed; Does not the deathless Irish faith In Ireland still remain? Do not the scions of that race This priceless boon retain? The green and gold are loved today As fondly as of yore; And who would not rejoice to see Old Ireland free once more? Thomas Noland, St. Mary's School. LEGEND An interesting legend is told of St. Patrick's life with Milcho, his master. It was the custom in those ancient days for a chieftain's house-! hold to sleep in a vast hall, the servants and retainers being thus all at hand in case of attack from foes. One night King Milcho dreamed that from the fair head of the slave Patrick, a burning flame proceeded. The incandescant light and heat extended more and more, in a long, wavy line, from the slaves' end of the hall toward the center where the king lay upon his couch, before the huge fireplace, in which were only smoldering embers. The king in terror saw the strange of flame approach hira, and by frantic gestures seemed to ward it away. To his gratification it curved about him, and left him untouched but to his renewed terror it passed directly to the crib where lay his two beautiful daughters, the idols of his heart. Transfixed with terror, he beheld them turned to ashes in the heat of the flame. Then came a blast of wind through the barred casements, and the ashes were blown through Uio opened portals and scattered afar over the world by the mighty rush of wind. Milcho awoke and called to the slave, to whom he told his marvelous dream; and Patrick, to whom the outer world seemed but a picture of the world within, declared the meaning of the dream. The fire, he said, was a symbol of Christ ian faith and love, which were to transform the souls of these prin cesses. The scattering of their ashes was an illustration of the dispersion of their gospel message among the nation. But in this King Milcho was to have no share, since his obdurate heart rejected the message divine. Vincent Mercurio, St Marys School, Richmond, Indiana. THE CATS. When I lived in the country I was six years of age. One night about seven o'clock I heard some cats crying. Pa went out to see what was the matter. The cats were across the road. Mama got some milk in a dish and papa called to the cats and they came to get the milk. It was a cat and two kittens. The kittens were black and blue. Sister took the blue and I took the black one. I called mine "Nigger," and she called hers "Blue." The mother cat went away and the kittens btayed THh us; they grew to be good cats and hunted mice for us. Lonetta Arroel. Age 12, 7-A Grade, Columbia City, Indiana. The better the day, the better the deed

The Legend of the I Hawthorn Bush A very pretty legend of St Patrick, coming down from ancient days, is told in France. Its scene is a famous and ancient estate upon the River Loire. When St. Patrick, aa a young priest, was preaching In France, it is said, he was once traversing the country on foot and alone, and came on Christmas day, to the river where he found neither ford nor boat. All undeterred, he plunged into the icy river and swam across. Then he spread his mantle out upon the short to dry. Where it rested there grew a hawthron bush, which blossomed only In the summer season, like the rest of its kind. But when the cloak of the zealous and saintly young priest was removed, the bush beneath it was seen to be in full bloom, weighted down with snowy and fragrant blossoms. Since then, at Christmas tide, the hawthron bush has always bloomed, while its fellows have remained in the death

like torpor of winter. To account for the strange phenomon from natural causes, scientists have supposed that the roots of the bush were touched by a warm spring of water underground. Investigation has shown that such is not the case. While science is baffled, legend is ever ready with its explanation of a miraculous nourishment and vigor; and many are the pilgrims who resort annually to the spot to view the singular florescence of the hawthorn on Christmas day. Clarence Greene, St. Mary's school. "THE RISING OF THE SUN" It was in the early morning. Tho gray mists were quickly banishel and the beautiful sunlight spread quickly all over the green meadow. The little sunbeams sparkled gayly throngh the trees, and played hidtv and-seek with the merry littlo breezes, which old Mother West Winds had turned loose long before the sun had tossed off his night-can. The bright little sunbeams that danced along the brook and kissed the bashful purple violets and the slick yellow cowslips made a very beautiful pieture. The little yellow daisies and buttercups smiled up through the long green grass and winked at the sun who smiled and winked back at them. The red faded from the eastern sky and the bright blue heavens were soon dotted with large white fleecy clouds. The earth was soon wide awake with the singing of the birds and the flashing of the butterflies that flitted here and there over the velvety stretch of bright green meadow lands. The little hummingbirds were buzzing about and thrusting their long bills into the slender necks of the waxy white lilies. The world was soon overwhelmed with jey. The Sinai of Ireland At the end of the rugged range of hills in western Connaught, there r;es is beauty a solitary constancy in the faith which has ever since been theirs there, where nothing but the heavens separated his soul from God, Irepeak that towers thousands of feet above the noisy waves of the At lantic Sea. It looks like a sentinel on guard. All Ireland lies behind it; the New World lies before. Like an eagle its summit perches on the mists which form a halo around its head, and nestling in its solid rocky side lies a cave where a sacred flagstone still remains. This Holy Hill, Croagh Patrick, they call it, was the birthplace of Irish constancy and the the Saviour of Ireland; and there in the olden time, when his work was over and done and when the brilliant biasing fir; of Cbritilike seal had enlightened the kings and the princes and peoples of the four counties with . that miraculous lands Apostle and Saint knelt in retirement, in prayer, and in communion with the Master in whose August and Holy Name be bad achieved the raofit marvelous spiritual victory the world has ever seen. Russell Burke, St Marys. School. Persuasion is better than, lore.