Corona High School - Coronal Yearbook (Corona, CA)

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As Father Serra journeyed over the road, he must have encountered many dangers and hardships. The question of supplies often became a serious problem and the labors of his fellow missionaries could not always have been so fruitful as had been hoped, lliose unconveited Indians who believed the missionaries to be their bitter enemies must have been incessantly making attacks on the missions and the settle- ments that clustered around them. Through all his trials and tribulations, Father Serra was encouraged and led on by the thought of the peace and quiet of the missions that was ahead of him. The missions that dotted El Camino Real were like the refreshing oases in the center of a hot, sandy desert. How glorious it would be if we could train ourselves to look forward to the brighter days that are sure to follow the darker ones! In life we each have our troubles. But are they anything compared to those of the mission fathers who traveled before and made the way smoother for us? As the day drew to a close and the sign beneath the mission bell along the King’s Highway grew dim in the lengthening shadows of night, my mental picture gradually faded away. The splendor of the mission days had passed. Now the missions are only survivals of a by- gone era. In the noise and bustle of the civilization which has now taken possossion of what was once their territory, they have no part. To those who turn aside from the pathways of the modern world to dream among the scenes where the old padres toiled and died, there is an atmosphere of peace and a charm of romance within the mission walls; and to them the King’s Highway is a pathway of righteousness coming from the history of the past and extending into the dim, dis- tant realm of the future. Evalyn Glass SUNRISE AND SUNSET Dawning — a new day just breaking — Thrilling some lost soul anew. Sunrise — a glorious awakening — ’Tis God’s “Good Morning” to you. Twilight — the shades of night falling— Refreshing a tired world with dew. Sunset — the light of day fading — ’Tis God’s “Good Evening” to you. Lillian Luana Cubley Twenty-three

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EL CAMINO REAL Evening was just coming on as we sped along a glimmering highway that wound in and out over the rolling hills of Sunny California. Sud- denly we stopped to read a sign hung beneath a mission bell “El Camino Real.” That meant the King’s Highway or the Royal Road. But why was this highway called the King’s Highway? Why was it more im- portant than any other highway in California? While I pondered over these questions, there seemed to flash before my eyes a picture of the King’s Highway of the Mission days. Yea, and even prior to the Mission days, for in the picture there seemed to be a crude trail and down the trail came a group of aborigines in skin costumes. Next came a band of antelope and behind them lurked a mountain lion. Down the trail came the Portuguese navigator, Cabrillo, the first white man to set foot on California soil. Over the road passed Montezuma with all the splendor of his pagan court. Then came Cortes, vainly searching for wealth and fame. Soon the setting sun gave forth a bright ray of light; and as it died out, there came over the road of thought a traveler of more importance than any who had gone before. He was no great soldier or mighty king, only a priest in a brownish gray cloak. He was slight in figure and walked very slowly, but every step was fired with ardour and determination. This priest was none other than Father Junipero Serra. Father Serra and a group of loyal followers could be seen toiling unflichingly over the work of establishing the Missions and converting a savage race into christianized, self-supporting civilians. How foresighted to have built the missions a day’s journey apart along the King’s High- way, so that at the end of the day the wandering wayfarer might fin d rest and shelter beneath their roofs! Twenty -two

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BOYS’ STUDYING This article is supposed to be about boys’ studying; but as most of them are not so inclined, I will proceed to tell what they are doing when they pretend they are studying. There are two kinds of fellows, the artists and those who are not artists. If you do not understand me, take a look at a fellow’s school book. If he is an artist, you will know it quickly enough. The first thing that hits you in the face is his name. It is on the cover, and he has made it rather large in case you might be near-sighted or something. Just so that you won’t think the book is an auto- biography, he has written its title down in one corner. As a sample of his masterpieces, he has drawn a sketch on top. He may be one of these budding cartoonists. Who can tell? He actually can draw a funny picture of the teacher. It’s a scream! Whex-e one opens the book, he has written “Open all night” or “Shake well before using.” I should think some of the teachers would take his advice and shake him well. Inside of the book is a picture of the bust of Cicero, on whom our hero, w ' ith a touch of his fountain pen, has di’awn a drooping moustache. He generally makes him cross-eyed while he is at it. Just think what an unusual amount of amusement he affords to futui ' e owners of the book! We see many of these masterpieces, but our hex’o has yet another sui-pi ' ise in stoi ' e for us. Where a picture in the book shows Mark Anthony and Cleopati-a sitting together, he has drawn a small cii-cle and connected it with Anthony’s mouth. Inside the circle he has wi-itten, “Oh, my little tootsie- woo tsie. YouTe the bee’s knees kid.” That kind of humor usually brings down the house (upon him). And yet, just think, after our ai ' tist has spent a whole period developing his talents, the teacher actually has a fit because he has not prepai’ed his lesson. It is queer how unsympathetic some of these teachei’s ai ' e ! Those boys who ai’e not artists are just as numerous as those who are. They are the athletic type. They have to be sharpening their pencils or throwing paper wads all the time. They get a big kick out of seeing someone getting sent to face Mr. Labrum. The next time you go to the study hall, you can see for yourself which boys ai e ai-tists and which are not. CARL COOPER Twenty-four