Anderson Union High School - Aurora Yearbook (Anderson, CA)

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' -f -. 25.1 ' Lv waters gliding, in our bark we ride. Yes, it was Donna. They ran to her. She and her husband had inquired and were told that the Kenyons were all out of town, so she had returned to her girIhood's favorite pastime. Now she flung herself down on the graves of her parents and wept hysterically. The next morning at church the minister preached, And there was great joy in that city, '. etc. To-day Shoshone Park is second only to Grand Old Niagara. Alice Stocker, '22 ' THE MONARCH SUN Prize Poem Arise, my men! arise! I say, 'Tis near the dawn of a new day! Cast on your armor, gleaming bright, So burnished with the golden light! Be ready soon your steeds to fly, Across the broad expanse of sky! Flash out your glory left and rightg Destroy the gloominess of night! Drive out the darkness from the world! Clviay all her beauties be unfurledj. Dispel the time when evil's done, Bring on the hour when Good's begun! Fill every nook with beauty rare, Give life to every blossom fair! And when at eve, your work all o'er, Descend unto the western shore. And so each morn, e'er rise of sun, The king's command aloud is rung. While back within the eastern gate, The glowing steeds impatient wait. Anxious to draw the golden chair, Up through the pure, ethereal air. And bear on high the Monarch Sun, Who at his height none look upon. N Dorothy Morgan, 'z4. lPage Twenty-onel

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man, uplifted. He uttered a low prayer over the mounds where his parents lay sleeping. On his way home he took from his pocket a lock of glistening, brown hair. The words You are a social criminal came to him. This time he smiled a bit sarcastically, and placed the lock of hair back in his pocket. During the six years that followed, Bess Wilder, working her way through university, changed wonderfully. The people at Harvard did not yield to every wish of hers as the people of Shoshone Falls had done. She had forgotten that she had ever cared to be a doctor. She thought she had forgotten Doss, but indeed she had not forgotten Shoshone Falls. She found in her advanced Civics, the study of laying out parks and cities. The last four years of her course she studied with one aim-that of returning home and with the riches with which she had always been blessed, build a magnificent park out of Shoshone Falls. The time finally came for her to start homeward. Oh, she was happy! She thought of Doss, of her daddy and of Shoshone Falls. The inspiration that came to Doss, six years ago, was all that he needed. He now owned two productive gold mines, his father's estate and a house which was carefully modeled after the so-called palace of Dad Wilder. Now he was surveying the land around Shoshone Falls with the idea of making it one of the greatest parks in the United States. When Bess arrived home, she found her father sick-dying. He passed away. Her grief was terrible. For a long time she would not see anyone. One day she picked up the local paper and noticed the unusual headlines about the great work Doss Kenyon was doing. At first it hurt her terribly. Doss had beaten her to it. One day when she was passing the new palace, so exactly like her own home, she wondered whose it was. She had never been interested enough to ask before. Then she glanced up and saw in the doorway-Doss Kenyon- yes, it was him. She waved. Doss came out to meet her and cordially shook hands, They went into the house and when the ice had entirely melted away, they told each other of their conflicting plans and all that had taken place in the time during the six years they were parted. That evening they wandered to the lonely graveyard. It was Doss who broke the silence by, Bess, am I not your equal? You too are a social criminal. You took the opportunity of leaving me alone for six long years and now you rfjeglect to do your duty of saying you accept the palace ' which I have built or you. Doss, I accept it. Now, am I a social criminal? No, but listen, I built thefpalace' for you. You condemned me because I didn't do it. Now, am I a social criminal? UNO! she cried. Doss, what a foolish, wonderful man you are! and' as the dusk faded into night and the mellow moonbeams danced on the pure dashing waters of Shoshone Falls, the two who had been social criminals, with their career looming up triumphantly before them, stood hand in hand in the lonely graveyard, garbed in exquisite robes of happiness. Suddenly, from up the river the entrancingly clear, ringing tones of a carefully cultured soprano voice reached their ears. It sang, Silent o'er the lPage Twentyl ' 'nl ii-r M ul

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Going Up I H H I., what in thunder do you suppose has happened to me now? wailed Robert Trellison to his friend, Albert Barrett. Dunno, unless you've been jilted again. If so, this makes the twentieth time, returned Albert. The two were seated in Roberts room in the hotel. A Robert had a telegram in his hand which he had just finished reading. Ah, heck, forget it for awhile. Don't you suppose anything else can happen to a fellow? Not to you anyway, answered Albert. Well, read that and see, tossing him the telegram. Too bad, but why should you care? asked Al, reading the telegram. It'll get into the newspapers-that is why I care, Why did your grandfather cut you out of his will? He had to leave you something, you're his only heir, Bob. Oh, he fixed that all right. He left me a tumble-down old shack up .in the Catskill mountains. As to your other question, he cut me out, of his will because I wouldn't marry Betsy Carter. Oh, Lawdyf' roared Albert, You jilted one and twenty jilted you. That's unfair. How did it happen? Why didn't you marry her? Wouldn't she have you T' He stopped for more breath. 'lieep on asking questions. Why don't you marry her? demanded Robert, angri y. Ran out of breath, old fellow, and had to stop. Don't get angry, l couldn't help it, protested Albert. Robert looked at his friend inquiringly. I didn't marry her because she wanted me to. UI thought that must be it, said Albert. Tell me about that house. Well, it's supposed to be haunted, but I don't believe in haunted houses, began Robert. It's located in the Catskill mountains. 'iAnd this is only Maryland, interrupted Albert. No one has lived in the house since my grandfather did, ten years ago. It is said to be haunted by the spirit of an old priest, who was put into the dark cellar, with chains on him, and left there to die. His spirit walks around every night at twelve. For a whole hour the clanking of chains can be heard. I would like to go up there just to discover who the ghost really is. Maybe someone is being the ghost for a special reason, suggested Albert. I..et's go up there and find out. All right, agreed Robert. We'll leave early in the morning, after I have seen my lawyer. They left next morning after Robert had sent word for his lawyer to wire him if he received any reasonable offer for the place. Several days later they were trudging up the mountain to the house which sat in a cleared place, surrounded by trees, IPage Twenty-twol