Alameda High School - Acorn Yearbook (Alameda, CA)

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The Acorn up, so many weeks before—and he had been astounded at the discovery. At the time he had felt justified in his deed; but now, day by day, he felt the conviction creeping over him that he had com- mitted the unpardonable crime—he was an outcast from all the world. No land could he ever call “home;” never again would he feel that delicious thrill which is alone produced by deeds of patriot- ism; and he became lowered, day by day, into the depths of black despair. He was leading a detachment of soldiers through a tangled swamp jungle, in order to overcome the Spaniards by a flank movement, when a scheme shaped itself in his mind by which he would be able to lead the Americans to destruction and at the same time reinstate himself in the favor of his countrymen. He would guide the Americans to a place where they would be directly in the firing line between the two struggling armies, and, thus creat- ing a divergence, would enable his own compatriots to charge, while the Americans withheld their fire for fear of hitting their countrymen. They were continually getting nearer to the roar of the battle, and, stopping the company, he werit forward to reconnoiter. He intended reaching the Spanish army and laying his plans before the commandant; but as he emerged between the firing lines he was struck over the head by a bolo wielded by a native scout. The Filipino gave him one look and ran on, leaving him for dead. He was not dead, however, for a low-hanging branch had turned the knife in the native’s hand and he had been struck senseless by the flat side of the blade. The American captain, who was left back in the underbrush, having waited the appointed time, made his way forward with his company and arrived just in time to assist in the final rout of the Spaniards. The spy awoke and deliriously made his way forward through the gathering dusk to the now deserted trench. Picking up a tat- tered Spanish flag, he staggered forward, singing a national hymn. Many times he stumbled and fell, yet he made his way forward till he came into the light of many camp-fires, around which the American soldiers were sitting down to their evening meal. Three sentries challenged him peremptorily, but he made his way for- ward, waving the tattered emblem of his mother country. Again he was challenged, but still he kept on. Three shots rang out simultaneously, and he leaped high in the air and fell sprawling, clutching the sod. He had made repara- tion for his deed—his penance was complete, and his soul was clean in the sight of God. A. C. BERINGER.

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The Acorn life! The glory and grandeur of the mountains, the wildness of the scenery, the work of hauling the great logs, and, above, all his leadership and popularity among the men! Imprisonment would be far worse than death! Then, as he looked at the waters, a thought entered the con- fusion of his brain. How easy, oh how easy! But it was the thought of a coward, and he hastily put it aside. He glanced at the missioner, waiting coldly and sternly before him. ‘The hatred again, oh, what hatred! Another thought, an- other easy way! The bank was slippery, and one touch would send him to a watery grave, and who could tell the tale and prove it was not an accident? But another human life, could he be accountable for another human life? “Come,” said the missioner, “you see there is no escape.” He started up the bank, but suddenly his foot slipped—there was a splash, and—he had fallen into the river. The man on the bank saw it, dazed. Now had come his chance for escape, and he was in no way accountable for it—for this death it was purely accidental. Yet he could save him, save him from the angry torrents by his massive strength. His freedom or a human life—which ‘was it to be? A life, a life, could he be responsi- ble for two lives, rather than one? Could he have the dreadful thought that two had met their death because of him? Yes, be cause of him, for he could save this second if he would. And suddenly the black clouds in the West parted, and the brilliancy of the setting sun lighted the soul of the man, bringing peace, hope and happiness, as he leaped into the river to save the life of the man who was‘to rob him of his freedom. GERTRUDE BROWN. REPARATION FFF He was a spy, scorned and despised alike by friend and foe. Moreover, he was not a willing traitor to his country, for he con- sidered that he had been forced to do the thing. “Adverse cir- cumstances,” that ever-present excuse of the weak-willed man, was his mental justification. Well he remembered the day that he had entered Manila with the victorious American army. Every incident was stamped indelibly upon his brain. He recalled the glances of hate and scorn with which he was received by his sur- rendering countrymen, and he remembered what a sickening clutch he had felt at his throat as the colors of his country, of his be- loved Castile, were lowered to the ground. A native woman had grasped a small American flag and had trampled it to the earth; and he, though he shared her sentiments to the utmost he had been forced to assist in her arrest. Yes, he was a Castilian of the bluest blood, and he loved his country passionately. Hs was merely tolerated by the Americans. They had no use for spies, they had said, when he had sneaked in and given himself

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In the first edition of The Acorn it was mentioned that a very prosperous season was anticipated by all and that never before had such school spirit been present. Now, when the term is near- ing its close, and when the staff of the regular Acorn has nearly completed its work, it rejoices with you that all the bright promises are being fulfilled. Yes, these have indeed been satisfactory months for us all, and before the first of June will undoubtedly be more so. There is work still unfinished, however, which still needs the assist- ance of the school. For instance, baseball season is not half over, and baseball—well, all our hopes are centered in baseball. Of course you have supported the team with your good will and are straining every effort to attend the games. Yet how many are there who neglect the financial support that means so much? Is it school spirit to be a non-member of the Student Body, because you have neglected to pay your dues? Remember, too, that The Acorn is included in that sixty cents, and also that election day will soon come along. When a new Acorn staff takes up the work after the summer vacation it is hoped that even more support will be given by the school than there has been this term. This term—well, the paper has improved, a little, because the interest in it has increased. There is still room for advancement, however, and we hope to see this effected. Remember that whatever strides are made must be due to the efforts of the school at large, rather than those of the staff alone, and that the credit or the blame of The Acorn to Ala- meda High rests with the students. The final edition, which will be out about the first of June, will be a souvenir of the senior class, edited and managed entirely by the graduates. It promises to be one of the best ever produced,