Cleveland High School - Beacon Yearbook (St Louis, MO)

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e f- S xt, W Sei' Y - PONY EXPRESS hh Y THE middle of the nineteenth century it was found that the too slow to carry on the business of the day. The Pony gym, Express was established in i860 to make a better mail serv- ice. The first riders set out, one from San Francisco toward 10 D. ox-teams and stages crossing the great plains of the West, were Q1 7' f EJ Missouri, and the other from St. joseph, Missouri, to Cali- fornia, on April 3, 1860. The first news of importance carried by the Pony Express was the news of l..incoln's address when he was first elected Presi- dent. This news reached California in seven days and seventeen hours, and the last ten miles were covered in thirty-one minutes. The average time taken by the Pony Express to cover this two thousand miles was ten days. This was a great improvement over the months taken by the ox-teams and stage coaches. The riders were young men and boys-strong, fearless, and able. They were always ready to ride in rain, snow, or sunshine. They sacrificed every- thing for their work and their greatest pride was in being ahead of schedule. The horses were four hundred of the very fastest and best to be found, and they were kept in the finest condition. There were one hundred and ninety stations established along the way, from nine to fifteen miles apart. Each Pony Rider boy rode from one station to another as fast as he could. just before arriving he loosened his saddle bags, threw them on to another horse and was gone like a streak of lightning. Mark Twain tells of watching from a stage coach for many days for the Pony Rider to pass. One day he was seen on the horizon and then, with a cheerful wave of his hand, disappeared over the sky-line in the other direc- tion. Although the charge for a letter written on the lightest kind of paper was 55.00, the Pony Express was never a Hnancial suc- cess. It was a difficult thing to overcome the objections of the Post Office because of the law against private mail service. After a year and a half, in October, l86l, the Pony Express service was discontinued just before the opening of the Pacific telegraph from New York to San Francisco. Even though the Pony Express was a failure, we of the present day owe much to the men who risked their lives riding through dangerous ln- dian country unarmed, trusting only to God and to their speed to save their lives, and we ought to honor and know them better than we do. . IONE SCHROEDER Twenty-one

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V +4 , 14, ,:g:2-.J - Ser-S Tb- N Qgflg S its A , R - 1,364.7 2 H ---b 3 - -1 - nr --f ' From the middle colonies the wagons found their way into every colony and settlement. And its life was not ended in the Eastern states and it was not ended by the establishment of the railroad. Until recent times the Cones- toga wagon, renamed the prairie schooner, carried civilization and immigra- tion across the continent to the Pacific Ocean. The remains of these wagons, sometimes still seen in the far West, are as distinct relics of early Western life as the remains of the buffalo. A few wagons still remain in Pennsylvania in Lancaster County. In 1899 one toiled its way slowly and painfully up the green-hill side of Vermont, bringing back several old people who had gone West long ago. An American poet writes of the Conestoga Wagon: - The old road blossoms with romance Of covered vehicles of every grade, From ox-cart of most primitive design To Conestoga wagons with their fine Deep-dusted, six horse teams in heavy gear, High homes, and chiming bells-to childish ears And eye entrancing as the glittering train Of some sun-smitten pageant of old Spain. MARIE STONECIPI-IER WINGS I hear a humming, humming and it comes from over head. I creep up to the window, and look into the sky, And there among the fleecy clouds, an aeroplane 59.2 , . , . . ARLY in the morning, while I m yet in bed 21 v-Tir I 1, J tar' I passes by. When I go a-walking in the early afternoon, And have my thoughts on things that are bound to happen soon, An object large and shiny keeps the sun just out of sight, For painted 'gainst the blue sky is an areoplane in Bight' ROSE PASLAVSKY SAYS THE WISE OLD BIRD I am, remarked the goose today So thankful this Thanksgiving, Because my head escaped the axe And I'm among the living. Now into racing l will go Till I become much thinner And l'll be much too thin, you know, To make a Christmas dinner. RICHARD BOURGEOIS Twcnzy

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it ge t ' Lis! - . - 2 CARA VAN TRA VEL RAVELING very slowly over the solemn majesty of the seas 53:1 of sand-far away in distant Arabia-caravans today carry their precious burdens. The beckon of modern invention has been unheeded. There the picturesque caravan still serves its v as ,fill fqgiy' worthy purpose. The perilous Sahara has its charms, its uncanny fascina- tions, its wonderful phenomena. Many a mirage has ruthlessly mocked the parching thirst of a desert traveler. Eagerly has he rushed to an apparent oasis only to be undeceived, and to perish under the burning skies, but that is the supreme sacrifice made by Arabians to bring the luxurious wealth of the Orient to our western existence. ln our avarice for the precious stones, priceless silks, and costly spices of the East, we are wont to forget the extreme hardships encountered by the Arabian. We like to think only of the beautiful with the happy optimism of a barb. A caravan, to our mind, is a spectacular scene. We like the ornate covering on the patient camels, the simply clad Arabian, the peaceful blanche of the sands, the delightful refreshment of the palm bordered oasis1 but best of all we are enchanted by the traditions and legends of the wanderers. We have visions of these children of the wilderness prostrated toward Mecca, for they are much given to prayer. Let us not forget the extreme difficulties of Caravan travel. Amid the great expanses of desert wastes many different tribes make their abode. Here too, cockle is found among the wheat. Many robbers add to the perils of this kind of journey. as as we at as Caravans have played no small part in the great drama of transporta- tion! NORMA GIUDICE MY DESERTED SWEETHEART There she sits by the roadside, Deserted and alone. When I would try to wake her, She would not even moan. No spark of life is in her, No strength is in her frame. She could get very saucy, But I loved her just the same Now she's dead and forgotten, -l But l was not to blame. -'F Though she was christened Mabel, just Lizzie is her name. ROBERT HERITAGE Twenty-two