Bret Harte Union High School - Sierra Vista Yearbook (Angels Camp, CA)

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9111014rx:10101011:1o1o:o1o:rx1o1o:n1o1o1o11xzoxoioxozozoioiozoxaoxo TO MRS. DANA COur loving teacherj The snowflakes, soft and gentle, Have drifted in her hair, In a garden, Quaint, old fashioned, . VVith the flowers I picture her, Where lilacs, , Purple, fragrant, Laden the winds heavy, with odor. Like a song, Played at twilight, On harp strings sweet, soft, and low. The sunshine, Bright and shining, Like a dove Serene, gentle, Whose wings dark nights, too, have known. Scent of lavender, Exquisite lace, Rich with times mellow glow, A delicate fan Breathing secrets Of romance, long, long ago. ,In her eyes, is smiling there. HILDA G. CARLEY. SUIPIHIOMKUJIRIES AS SEEN IIN I939 As I walked down the street I saw a person that was drawing the atten- tion of a large crowd, and since I am a very inquisitive person anyway, I un- dertook to investigate. The center of attraction was a man with a cute Charlie Chaplin, Jr. mustache and a regular sheik suit of clothes. He was selling packages of all sorts ranging from soap to flea hair. just about this time, a cop came up and pinched this man for not having a peddler's license I seemed to have some faint recollection of this man so I followed him to the police station and asked the judge his name. I found out that he was Ed Walker, an old friend with whom I went to school in Angels Camp. As 1 was looking over the records, I found the name of Harlowe Clarke, and then I remembered that he was my former English teacher, and was just going to visit his cell when I noticed an item in small print below the name. It read, Escaped through window, March 5, 1939, didn't keep him fat and he crawled out through the bars. I intended to remain in that town overnight, as my small airplane, called the Fordplane, ran out of gas while I was in midair and I saved my life from destruction only by using my Goodyear rubber parachute while I watched my Fordplane dash to pieces on a golf course. After landing and having an interview with a newspaper reporter, a short man whose face was covered with freckles and who answered to the name of Stumpy and Clarence, and whom I still think I formerly knew, I took a taxi to the place where my plane had fallen. Mr. Everett Lillie met me there and after an hour's argu- ment I paid him just five dollars and swapped my old wreck for a new one. At the local hotel I was vamped by a very cute telephone girl who operated the switch-board and who would give you any number from 13 to 113 turn-

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Page F Wy SIERRA VISTA Oznioiuioioix 101030101 xiuinioioininirxiiri ioioioioixrioioixximxioq For a few years more nothing startling happened. Then a guy named Volstead had a run-in with the Kentucky Distillery Company. He got sore and passed the prohibition law, then John D. got his back up because Union Oil got more government land than his pet, the Standardg so he stirred up Congress and Pete Donoghue played the goat. This fracas was known as the Tea Pot Dome Affair. Cris and'Georgie got in a tangle for breaking into Mayor Rolph's cellarg so Georgie jumped in the bay and Cris sneaked back to Sunny Italy. This left Abie all alone, and he, having nothing else to do, became a tea-hound and a drug-store cowboy. Last year somebody told him he would make a good president, so last election he ran against Callie Collidge and Bobbie LaFollette. Callie beat him out by about twenty million or so. and Abie went back to splitting rails. This brings our Historie up to date, so we'll have to let a few more cen- turies drift by, while somebody creates some stuff. YE ENDE-YE ED. E. W. DORROH, '25. HOW ANGELS CAMP RlECClElIVlElD ll'1I S NAME A small group of men were sitting around a camp fire, silently smoking their pipes, each one in deep thought. All wore a contented look and all had good reasons for their pleasure, for they had discovered and staked a rich claim. Only a few days before a man had bonded the mine and had sent word for many men to come in. Each man knew that soon a busy, flourish- ing mining camp would be lying around the spot where they now sat. Finally, some one broke the silence. Say, fellows, what are we going to name this burg? Seems to me, Bill Senter answered, as if we ought to give it a handle that's something like, since we all think this mine's going to be famous. Well, how about naming it Smithville? inquired Kelly. Lookee here. that aint flowery enough. - Well how about Neegard, after Juzzy over there?,' Oh, no you don't, it's bad enough to have such a name onto me without burdening a poor innocent town with 1t.'l Well, what are you going to do about it? I Dem my skin ef I know, since we canit all hook to the same name. Put on the brakes, and let it go till some other time. Perhaps some one may have an inspiration between now and then. Silence fell again and the firelight shone on thoughtful faces, while most eyes held a faroff expression. The fire leaped and sprang into Htful blazes casting strange shadows among the trees. Suddenly some one exclaimed, Helly smoke! Look at 'em boys. Every one started up and gazed in the direction where Bill's eyes were rivited. Among the trees faint white forms flitted. As they flitted in and out, up and down, among the trees, they looked like white Angels hovering around. VVell, by crikitee, I'll eat my hat if this place ain't inhabited by angels, exclaimed Bill. It sure looks as if Angels camp was here as well as us poor earthly creatures, said Bill in wonderment. All at once Senter's face lighted up with a glow of inspiration. Angels Campy' he cried, Let's call this place Angels Camplu And Angels Camp it still remains. EDVVARD A. WALKER, '25

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Page F Wy-two SIERRA VISTA 020101011viinioioioitriixioloioif1101011binimlioioioiixicliivicriirinifriot ed upside down. I remembered the time when she and I used to flirt in high school so I put my name on the register of that hotel. During my stay no- body got the right numbers. At the dinner table I met a very educated and influential man who walk- ed with a stoop. He put me wise to most of the town and we planned to paint the town red that night. I couldn't recognize this man at first sight though he recognized me and afterwards he told me that he was the invent- or of Apple Cider for medical purposes. I then remembered distinctly how Carleton Hauselt and I used to type on Remington Portables in our youth. The supper was a very pleasant one, in fact I only drank fourteen glasses of ice water, as this was one of those Spanish suppers, the kind most people would call Chilly on the Cornf' but which tasted like an overdose of red pepper. I found out that the cook was Carmelita Paredes. After supper we went to the lobby where we talked about amusements of the evening. Carleton said that we could either see the slow one-round fight between Shadow Bill and Poking Paul, or hear a very blaring cornet concert. I considered the night's program very carefully and then asked a couple of questions of Carleton. He answered that this Poking Paul was a prize fighter from Murphys, and then it came to me that it was Paul Segale, who used to be the champion swimmer of Murphys, and since he was as good a fighter as he was a swimmer, I didn't go toi the fight. I decided to go to the concert. At eight thirty we sat in the Grand Opera house and waited for the opening. The sign said that Melvin Bernasconi and Paderewski the Third were the main attractions. I remembered the cornet blower at first sight but could not make out the long haired piano player who was a short, dark complectioned man. This Mr. Hauselt said, was Jack Skosko of Angels Camp. The next on the program was a song by three of the best singers in Punk Sound. These three were Dorothy R., Annie L. and Grace S. I al- ways blame this incident as hurrying my deafness. When we got back to the hotel, I picked up a book entitled, How to Diet to become Fat, by Norine Cademartori. VVho should I meet when I turned around but Rose. We fell into con- versation and she told me that she was on her honeymoon and her husband was Duke of Sing Sing. They were going to tour Europe. I also recog- nized Hazel S., as one of Rose's private maids. That night I couldn't go to sleep, so I turned on the radio. Station N-O-I-S-E was on the air. Next on the program was a bed time story by Lucile Howard. As you suspect I was soon asleep as everybody else in the hotel within hearing distance. The next day I attended a circus in the public square and had a very pleasant time. I spent ten cents on a side show to see the largest red headed woman in the world. NVhile gazing on the immensity of this woman, who was Earline Oneto, she recognized me as being the prize dumb-bell of Bret Harte in the twenties. I told her that she had won the cake, but she sarcastically replied that it was the cake that made her so fat. This fat woman was a very large at- traction. I was engaged in conversation with her for more than an hour un- til she told me that Evelyn Kennedy, whom I remembered mostly for her latest styles and shape, was hired by the circus to draw the crowds to see her ears, supposed to be the only pair of natural receivers growing from solid ivory. I went in and just started to engage in a very pleasant conver- sation when I was thrown out on my ear for taking up so much parking space directly in front of her.