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

Page 24 text:

« n I ?v- ■Where the Bright Trout Is Leaping in Search o His Prey '

Page 23 text:

AMERICAN INDIAN SPORTS HE American Indian, besides being a great fighter, was also a great sportsman. Perhaps you may think that this is absurd. However, the Indians were a very jolly people when they were not warring with anyone. The young braves played ball with a deerskin ball. The limb of an oak or hickory tree served as a bat. These games would sometimes last for whole days. The squaws and those men who were not able to play stood on the side lines and cheered for their favorites. The smaller children flew their kites, which they made out of fish blad- ders. They would also spin their teetotums in competition with one another to see which one could keep his spinning the longest. A teetotum is a toy which is used in games of chance. Games such as tag, hide and seek, and blindman ' s buff were played with great excitement. The girls enjoyed play- ing with their dolls in such leisure hours as they had. The boys and girls were equally fond of making mud pies, each one trying to make a bigger and better pie than the others. When the boys became old enough they were taught to shoot with the bow and arrow. Contests were held in which the braves attempted to split a willow wand in two from amazing distances. Contests were also held in which each brave tried to show his skill in throwing the tomahawk. Endur- ance races were held for the fighting braves to keep them fit. The Indians are universally known for their great endurance. The Indians played a game on the ice which is very similar to our modern hockey. They held canoeing races and practiced shooting with the bow and arrow from the moving canoe. They had contests in fire making and in the making of arrow heads. From all of this, we see that the Indians enjoyed many sports which were well adapted to the conditions under which they lived. William Thomsen. Page Nineteen

Page 25 text:

FISHING T T ENRY VAN DYKE has said that fishing is the out-of-door sport - ■ ' most honored in literature. This is probably because it has so ic I many delightful accompaniments. The ripple and flow of s hin- ing waters, the songs of birds, the bright colors of wild flowers along the stream — all these sweet and joyous things enter the angler ' s experience, dwell in his memory and fill his heart with poetry whether he ever puts it into verse or not. One lucky cast into the stream of literature brings up this stanza from The Fisher ' s Call. written by William Andrew Chatto in Fisher ' s Garland, 1837: Oh. what can the joy of the angler e.xcel. As he follows the stream in its course through the dell! Where every wild flower is blooming in pride And the blackbird sings sweet, with his mate by his side. Then up. fishers, up! to the waters away! Where the bright trout is leaping in search of his prey. Deep-sea fishing for the fierce, fighting sailfish or the powerful tarpon, casting or trolling for bass or pike or muskellunge in inland lakes, or just plain fishing for perch or croppie or sunfish — all these have their attractions. But for pure delight, what can surpass the quest for trout in the cool, sparkling waters of a lively brook or friendly river? Perhaps you can imagine a silvery stream, lazy in some places, extremely ambitious in others. It makes its way now across the meadows, now between wooded hills, or through a deep and silent forest. The peace and tranquility of such surroundings, the pure, invigorating air, cleanse the mind and refresh the heart, and put us more in love with living, The lure of the stream enters your blood. As you look down its course, its winding curves seem to beckon you on and on. regardless of time. If the stream is new to you. it will provide many pleasant surprises as you explore the promising spots eagerly. Surely there must be a big trout in that deep hole or under that jam of logs and driftwood. What a thrill of satisfaction when a trout suddenly surges up to your lure and verifies your judgment! In a familiar stream, you recognize with renewed pleasure the old reliable spots where, on previous occasions, a whopper of a trout has risen to the fly, to be caught — or lost. There under that old sunken log. beneath the over- Page Tu ' cnty-onc