Hudson High School - True Blue Yearbook (Hudson, WI)

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It» TRUE BLUE While in our hearts we outfit to wis That short day just begun. For is not life quite short enough When lived at full and best? And ought we wish that day to come Day of eternal rest? We’re living in the greatest age A human’s ever known W ith work for millions all around And billions we must loan. So,, let not time roll on in vain Count every moment dear And as each day glides fast aw y Be thankful that another’s nea —E. M. J. CHRISTMAS IN PORTO RICO. In the tropics there is no snow; reindeer and sleighs are un- heard of. Instead of a blustery wund, the gentle breezes of the trade winds fan the air. The palm trees rustle overhead, and occasionally can be heard the hollowr “boom” when a cooanut drops or a palm leaf falls from a height of nearly a hundred feet. The breakers foam as they hit the reefs and the bathers run and laugh as they are caught in the foaming mass of wrater and borne up on the beach. The sun is high overhead and shines with as much heat as in the month of June. A merry throng of horse- back riders dashes by, riding up the beach as the riders work up an appetite for dinner. Christmas has come and gone; a quiet day, with religious ser- vices at the churches which all attend, observing the dav of the Nativity like a Sunday. But the sixth of January is “Dia de los Reyes,, or Three Kings day, the dav when the Three Kings (or wrise men) came and found our Lord, a babe in the manger. In remembrance of this, the children of the citv troop out to the sur- rounding fields to fill boxes wdth grass which thev take home and slide under their beds. Thev think that, during the night the Three Kings wall come on prancing steeds, hungrv after their lone journey, and will be glad tp have the grass which they have col- lected. In the morning they find that that the horses have eaten the grass and in its place the Three Kings hsve loft gifts for the happy children. Then, wdmt a racket! That dav the parents too, must get up, for there is no more sleep. Every one is blow- ing horns, and bells are ringing everywhere. After a romp in which all join, breakfast is served and hastily cleared away; for

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1« TRUE BLUE tie Santa Clawses runnin aroun’, not quite as big as me. One uv ’m tooted a horn, an' the regular, big Santa come outa’ the houses’ chiminey rite neer there, an’ slapped us on are sholders an sed, “How-dee boys. Glad to see you.” Then he give a nod, an’ held on ta are hands, and I’ll be jingoed if we didn’t go up in the air an’ go clean down his chiminey. Then he had sum little Santa Clawses that wore apems go fix sum supper, an’ O, boy, them eats wuz dee-lishous!. Then he shoed us his storehouse, an’ it wuz jest like a toy factory only pertier. It had a lot of elevatored boards kinda shelvy-dum waytors around the sides which was covered with toys. Then they was little Classes in lether aprons runnin’ around workin’ fit ta kill like as if they hadda sent the things around now ’stead of in towers. Sum was lodin’ them on ta airships by elevatorin’ ’em, an others wus a lookin’ at a big long piece a’ paper that had kids’ nayms on too see who ta give things to. Then I seen sum ends uv ropes ’nd I started tu munky with ’urn ’nd all uv a suddn one of them there shelfs come down ker plunkity plank. I told the regaler Santa I wuz jest munkeyin’ an’ he sed it wuz all rite and that he cud fix all th jiggers as wuz busted with my- oosalege, ’nd they’d be alrite again. Then he sed, “C’mon! boys, an’ we’ll go fill the stockings.” So we went. We wient up in a airship a different way, ’cuz Santa sed the deevils wood be layin’ fer us p obablee, ’an he wanted ta fool ’em. So we went the different way. We landed at the North Pole, an' that’s where folks get the idea he lives there. But he don’t. Then we sailed around, an’ Santa wood go down in a parachute throo three peepul’s chimineys ta fill the stockings. Then all uv a sudden, Me an’ Huck started ta fall lickity cut, fastern eny train I ever seen. An’ th wind wuz a hollerin’ in- screechin’ ’u’ we wuz colder’n ise. Then we hit on sompin’ soft, and landed. We wuz jest in bed. ’Nd the wind wasn’t screechin’. It wuz jest Aunt Polly. Darn a ant. —R. E. A. ’23 “Time rolls its ceaseless course” How quickly days glide by And yet, as each one passs, We all are prone to sigh And say, as tho’ relieved in mind, “Another day is done”

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TRUE BLUE 2U now all must join in preparation for the dinner. Out under the palm trees, charcoal pits are prepared to roast the pigs; and Juan, the colored man, sits all morning slowly turn- ing them over the fire, and anointing the browning pig with all kinds of glorious spices, forming a crust, which holds the juices inside so as to give a delicious flavor. On the beaches, torches have been burning for several nights to attract the turtles, who follow the light and come up on shore only to be caught by the men who lay hidden under the sand with stout poles with which they overpower the turtles. Watermelons and various fruits are put on ice, and many sweets are prepared for the dessert. After a great feast the children play with their toys and the men smoke on the veranda. Soon, groups of musicians appear with “bombos” (a kind of drum which is nothing more than a keg with goatskin stretched over it), rattles, boves, mandolins, and guitars. Then they sing Christmas carols in a plaintive Spanish style and gladly receive the “aguinaldos” or presents which their listeners give them. After the day is spent and the children are in bed, the older people sit on the veranda in the beautiful moonlight and talk over the events of the day until midnight, when supper is served and the guests depart. “HAUNTED” The wind howled dismally over the trees, And shrieked through the cracks in the wall. The old frame creaked and the storm doors squeaked And iron chairs clanked in the hall. The snow was drifted cn every side And the moon sent a ghastly glare, Proclaiming this the night of nights And that ghosts were everywhere. H. H. ’22 He—“I’m a little stiff from basket-ball.” She—“Where did you say you were from ?” Mr. Nordby: Just take it from me. if some of ya don’t shut up pretty quick, I’ll kick ya out, and yuh’ll land down in the office, and I’m afraid a crepe will hang on your desk for quite a few days, before I’ll ever let ya get back. By the way— Speaking about comfortable shoes, notice Lucille Collins!