Castlemont High School - Falcon Yearbook (Oakland, CA)

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uThe Emblazoned Shieldh q? or this was Arthufs custom in his hall, When some good Knight had done a noble deed, H is arms were carven only, but if twain, His arms were blazonfd also; but if none The shield was blank and bare without a sign.

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Etbe falcon Things I Don,t Like To Do By ALICE BOULTER N THIS springly April day the birds are carefree and merry; they twitter and trill in the treetops, while the blue sky smiles sweetly, and little iiowers try to express their alfright tor is it delighth at finding them- selves in such a poetic world. I alone am disconsolate; for an unspringlike mood is upon me, and prosaic thoughts arise in my mind. Cynically I observe the wilted poppy in my huttonhole; and, inappropriate as it may seem, instead of thinking how sweet it is to be alive and how beautiful it all is, it comes to me suddenly that I do not like to write themes, and, moreover, I do not like to study U. S. and G. nor write letters to distant relatives. . I glance at the clock, and am reminded of another thing I d011,t like to do, namely, to watch for any length of time these clocks we have here at Castlemont. At the junior high I attended they had the kind of clock with hands which stand still for a minute and then jump to the next. They were much more interesting to watch than these, and I, being an inveterate clock-gazer, have often wished for the good old days when time jumped instead of crawled. . However, to continue: I don,t like to grate carrots; I donlt like to read stories with morals; I don,t like to listen to dis- -courses on alThe Importance of Spending an Hour :1 Night on 01165 Chemistryii; and I donit like to wash pots and pans; neither do I like to use an umbrella in rainy weather. . Furthermore, I donlt like to listen to Rudy Vallee singing JJO Solo Mic, nor do I like to hear a soprano sing thn the Road to Mandalay. 4 And these, much as it embarrasses me to admit it, are the thoughts that I think, while outside, Nature is budding and little breezes whisper of hope and gladness. And I sigh, for I remember that once, in my youth and innocence, I, too, laughed and danced gaily, and was happy; but now that all my illusions have been shattered, and I have reached the sophisticated age of sixteen, life has taken on a darker hue, which reminds me of one other thing I donit like to do, which I must add: I douit like to think of that test welre going to have eighth period. Forty-seven

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