Atascadero High School - Santa Lucia Yearbook (Atascadero, CA)

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As the selection continued, the pianist got more and more excitedg his hands dashed back and forth over the keys like race horses. You could not see his fingers, for they moved from one place to another with such speed. All of the instruments in the orchestra were increasing their tempog arms and notes were whirling around in the air above the players. The music was like the thundering of the elements during a storm, or the booming of the guns during a battle. The violins shrieked and rent the air, the cymbals clashed like the falling of Tarpeias shields. The horns tooted and whistled, while the drums boomed. The leader's hair was awry, his baton swishing through the air like a live thing. Suddenly he gave a grand sweep of his baton and the music stopped. The oppressive silence that followed was short, for almost at once there came a thunderous burst of applause, that sounded like the waves breaking on a rocky shore during the storm. ' INDIAN SUMMER JANE DUSSARD, '28 The peaceful little valley lay in the misty, silver and gold haze of Indian ghost fires at noontide. Drowsy, dreamy silence reigned. Golden wheat fields dotted here and there with purple asters rustled sleepily in the sunshine. Tall poplars dotted the valley, and on the hillside silvery birch, purple grapes and scar- let maples surrounded a gray house, nestled in the mellow silence. A wisp of smoke curled lazily from its chimney. Now and then the peaceful calm was bro- ken by a scurrying squirrel or a droning bee. The world seemed to be dreaming. Even the woodpecker had ceased drumming, and the jay's mockeries were still. The only moving object in sight was an old Italian trudging down the dusty road with his hand organ and monkey. He, too, seemed to be dreaming, dreaming of sunny Italy and prismatic Naples--perhaps even dreaming of his boyhood days on the side of Mt. Vesuvius, and of an elfish, Madonna-eyed little playmate. CONCERNING ADVERTISEMENTS PATRICIA Tiuocs, '30 In most of the magazines there are just as many advertisements as there are stories. Most of the ads scare a person half to death. The Listerine people make you think you are sure to get a sore throat and die any minute. The cold cream companies make you think you have a perfectly terrible complexion, and the shampoo people must think everyone has long, straggly, unruly hair. To read a story in a magazine without getting all mixed up in the advertise- ments is quite an accomplishment. Often one has an experience like this. The story reads- Mary was out walking in the snow with her dog, Buster. As they walked along Buster saw a cat and started to chase it, but Mary called him back and said warningly: 'Pyorrhea's grim record is 4 out of 5.' Buster had a good time chasing the rabbits which have a skin you love to touch. Suddenly he heard screams from afar and he knew his mistress had fallen through the cool and refreshing ice into the river. He started to run for the river, but he kept getting mixed up with Beauty Aids, dainty new ways to remove cold cream, and cough drops, and so he finally arrived just in time to see those tailored zippers which add such a smart touch to your costume, sticking up in the air. Buster took hold of one leg with his glistening white teeth, made clean by Pepsodent, and pulled with all the Three in One Oil in him. Mary came up smiling, with that engaging mouth of youth. She took hold of Buster's hair, which was of the finest kind of macaroni, and he pulled her to safety.

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Well, we stepped into the big tank, which was filled with Mars men, women and children of marvelous size. The giant pressed the button,-the rest was ob- livion. Then--I heard a voice: She'll come out of it in a minute. She's not hurt much, but that truck sure biffed us one! SPORTSMANSHIP Enmr THoMPsoN, '28 We hear and see that word a great deal, but just what does it mean? It seems to apply mainly to various games, but sometimes it is used when we are talking about other things, even about business. lt has grown to stand for a very definite quality that is particularly interesting. In the first place it requires that one obey the rules. If there are certain laws regulating a game or a race, the good sportsman will abide by those rules strictly. A great many times there are chances for a smart fellow to evade a rule and so gain an advantage. A sportsman will not do this. He realizes that rules are made for a purpose, that they are intended to be fair to everybody and to fix things so that everybody will have an equal chance with everybody else. They are for the good of the game, to make it orderly, and to get the best out of it. So the sportsman not only learns the rules of the game he plays, but obeys the letter and the spirit of them. But something else is requiredg it is not easy to describe exactly what it is, because it is made up of so many different things. For instance, there is courtesy. You must play your hardest and do your best to beat your antagonist, but, no mat- ter what happens, you must maintain a decent courtesy toward contestants and officials. It also requires courage. A good sportsman is never a quitter, he must finish his race no matter how far he is behind, and keep trying up to the last second. He never knows When he is beaten, but when he is beaten, he takes his defeat gra- ciously, Without excuses or alibis, and without belittling the achievement of the victor. True sportsmanship does not complain and protest, unless the good of the game demands that a protest be made. It does not take advantage of technical- ities. It is not forever claiming fouls or asking that somebody be disqualified. The true sportsman takes no pleasure in winning an event by the operation of law rather than by his superior ability.. He overlooks faults in his antagonist while taking pains to commit none himself. But these things do not quite give the whole idea of sportsmanship. There is something else,--something hard to put the finger on. The final requisite of sportsmanship is nothing more nor less than that the sportsman carry into his con- test the qualities which make him a gentleman. Thus sportsmanship demands of one: Obedience to rulesg courtesyg exclu- sion of petty fault-finding and protesting. It demands courage and a real contest- ant's heart. Lastly it demands that one shall be a gentleman always. lt takes quite a fellow to be a sportsman, but, on the other hand, a sportsman is quite a fellow. It is well worth the trouble it takes. THE ORCHESTRA ' OWEN ASBERRY, '31 The orchestra leader picked up his baton, looked at the audience, and then brought it down in front of him with a tremendous sweep. The orchestra in- stantly responded. The 'cello sang sonorously and the violin squeeked in a sharp contrast. The big bass drum boomed away steadily and the small drum beat a sharp succession of short staccato notes. The slide trombone slid back and forth ferociously.

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THE LOVE STORY OF MR. AL. G. BRA MARIAN V. OLDSON, '29 Mr. Al G. Bra, who was an earnest, conscientious young man, was desper- ately in love with llfliss E. Quation, who, at this time, was deeply infatuated with another, who had a rather large diameter, but still Mr. Al G. Bra knew the whims of women, and given time, he was sure he could supplant his rival in her affections. . And so, in factoring a way in which to make Miss E. Quation give up her unknown, he decided he must think of a way to make his rival become merely a substitute to be easily discarded when so desired. Soon after, Mr. Al G. Bra proceeded' to tri-angle after angle of her heart and mind so that he might subtract her attention from her unknown admirer and add to her respect and love for him. Then, also, he saw that he must, in some manner, divide his opponent's forces and multiply his own opportunities of seeing Miss E. Quation. Mr. Al G. Bra, not missing an opportunity of letting Miss E. Quation know of his suit, sent to her daily a lovely bouquet of violets bearing the simple message: As sweet as you, dear. ALGERNON. The task that he had set himself was a great one, but, knowing that he would be dismal Qdecimalj without her, he fell to work with a will and finally cast out his exponent, Who, he told her, is a poor figure of a man, for he has leaner flinearj measurements than I thought he had. Proceeding on simple operative facts, he at last succeeded in brushing the wrecked angle frectanglej from his path and so found that he had wooed and won. Thus it endeth: They lived happily ever after. WESTERN MOUNTAINS DUDLEY Tluccs, '30 From austere heights above the clouds, To every lowly round-topped hill, Dear mountains of the Western coast, I love your every nook and rill. The little streams that start from snow That melts upon some snow-capped peak And join again in rivers broad That How into the ocean deep, Are dear to me because they start From mountains dear unto my heart. The animals that roam your side, Where pine and spruce abundant grow, The birds that dwell Where oak trees are And where the little streamlets go- So dear to me are all of these: The animals, the birds, and trees. J So mountains tall and mountains broad That look out on the western sea, You are the dwelling place of God And therefore you appeal to me.