Jackson High School - Jacksonian Yearbook (Jackson, CA)

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perate effort, I began to compare his mountains to the great Himalayas where theoretically in the chain of the evolution of man the ape had learned to talk. He stopped me short and pointed out several errors that I had made in tracing the evolution of man. We debated violently for some time, I for- getting that I had not come to argue with this hermit, and he forgetting that he was a hermit. His cognition of history and science I knew at one time must have been complete. Never before had I been so humbled in debate. I was no match for this man. I, a man of education, made foolish by a mountain dweller who had not see a human face for ten years. I turned to ask a ques- tion, when suddenly his smiling face held my gaze.-That smile-I had seen it before. Could it be possible that I had met this man somewhere? Again he spoke, and in the place of anger grew a feeling of pity. This man had smiled as I knew he had once long ago when a victim of his eloquence had acted as I had. I saw him not as a ragged hermit, but as a young, clean shaven man taking the stand before an audience. We retired soon after, I taking a place on the bare floor beside the glowing fire. Sleep was impossible as over and over in my mind I wondered why this man lived in seclusion. A man who might have been a Lincoln had wasted away his life-why? My eyes roved about his tiny room, and by the light of the moon I saw an oak chest. I heard the hermit breathe deeply, a11d, knowing him to be asleep, I quietly stole to the box hoping to unravel this mystery. It was unlocked and contained, as I had expected, letters and doc- uments. My attention was especially atracted by a ruffled letter at the bottom of the chest. Taking the lamp from the table, I spread the letter upon my knee. Dear Clarence: I am leaving you , it began. In disgust I threw it down. Could it he possible that a woman had driven this strong character to solitude? Then unfolding an old typewritten article torn from a magazine, I read: We often Wonder what becomes of D. A.'s and how many people came back to town after Clarence Lyon disappeared. Clarence Lyon! I should have known you, even after all these yearsf' .I gently closed the box. Then I gazed at a letter I had dropped. Oh, I shall never forget those shaky lines written by an unsteady hand. May God forgive you for sending my innocent boy to the gallows. I am about to join Him, but before I die I forgive you as God would have me do. May He help you in brightening your futurew. I felt a sudden dull blow upon my heart and in a Hash I could see a large courtroom in which Clarence Lyon had smiled as he addressed the jury. I still saw his sneering face as he pointed a long slim finger yelling WI'hat man is a killerln I heard him build a case of hrst degree murder against an in- nocent man, and I remembered how the papers had screamed murder in his face after the sentence of death was pronounced. Above all I remembered a little grey haired mother who had died a day before her son's execution was to take place. I-201

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THE WAGES OF SIN For some time I sat gazing, in the moonlight, at the beautiful river, slowly winding its way through the hills. Suddenly a lonesome feeling seized my heart, and a desire for wandering grew within my soul. I had never felt this way before, and not caring for solitude I had never wandered into the moun- tains. On this night, however, being depressed in spirit, I wanted to be alone. so I packed my belongings and set out for the distant snow-capped peaks. That night I enjoyed to my heart's content the gorgeous beauty of the peaceful mountains. I heard the wind rustle softly through the trees, heard the roar of the silvery river, and saw its winding path. At dawn I stood gaz- ing at nature in all its beauty. For long I stood thus, when suddenly inthe distance my eyes beheld a light. A sudden fit of curiosity seized me, and I ran down the steep canyon and began to ascend the chain of mountains that would take me to this mysterious gleam. All day I walkedg when suddenly coming upon a small lake, I stopped to rest. The deep blue waters of this beautiful lake, situated in the heart of these jagged mountains, became crimson from the dull red sun of a slightly clouded sky, and to its setting glow this paradise took on an atmosphere of profound melancholy. My wandering eyes fell upon the figure of a man deep in meditation. For quite a time he sat thus on the rocky shoreg then slowly rising, made his way up a winding path which led to a lonely cabin hidden by a huge rock. By the dim twilight I saw this tall figure enter his humble shelter. Peeping through a small window, I watched him light a small lamp, and by its glow, I saw this man for the first time as he really was, sunk- en eyes, long grey hair, and deep wrinkles that told of sorrow and worry. He was thin, and looked about sixty years of ageg and, although he wore ragged clothes and was unshaven, I knew he had seen better days. He fell upon his knees beside a small cot, and in the deep shadows of this barren room by the dull light shining upon his upturned face. this man pray- ed. I looked into his pale blue eyes, they were not the eyes of a man who had done wrong, instead they told a tale of woe, and as the light flickered I thought I saw a tear. Gently opening his door I stepped in. He turnedg we met face to face. I could not speak-his eyes held me spell-bound, and there I stood. 'cAre you lost?', he inquired. I hesitated. c'Won,t you sit down? he invited pleasantly, 'CI am about to eat and you look hungry. Rather reluctantly and making apologies that I was a bit confused as to direction, I sat before a small table on which he placed welcome food. 'cAre you traveling? he asked in a sturdy voice-again I hesitated. Yes, I replied, not wanting this man to know I had come to spy upon him. I searched for words, but in vain. His eyes pierced me as I stammered. A smile lit his face, then suddenly a friendly feeling grew upon me. This man was trying to converse with me, and I, like a fool, sat in a daze. With a des- E191

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'6Yes, I am that manf' said a voice over my shoulder. You understand now, don't you?', Lyon, you fool,', I bellowed. You knew the murderer confessed before James Clay's executionli' I know, he said, but it was too late. The storm had broken all means of communication with the prison. '4Oh, you blundering idiotln I cried. I killed them both! he wailed. Pull yourself together, Lyon, I said excitedly. uYou're going back to civilization. James Clay did not hang! f'Oh, my God, why do you taunt mel he screamed. You fool,'i I cried over and over. '6An airplane carried the message staying the executionf, Before I could continue I heard him groan. Slowly 'he fell to the floor a dying man. 4'Oh, God, why have you told me this, I heard him say. Lifting his throbbing head I did what I could to comfort him in his last moments. Before lapsing into unconsciousness he looked into my face. W111 you find James Clay and tell him how I have suffered for the wrong I have done? he asked. 6'He knows, I said. He knows?,' . uYes,,' I answered, for I am James Clay. I Milton Dalo LOVE TALES A Boy and a Girl Were Dancing at the 'cMasquerade . Suddenly some- one exclaimed, '4Look Who Is Here! if it's not the All American Girl . I must give you My Fraternity Pinn. As I was Waltzing in a Dream , I heard some gal say, 6'Step by Step I'm Falling in Love with You . Sez her man, c'That,s My Desiren. As I grew 'Tired I asked Sweet Sue to Save the Last Dance for Me and I strolled along c'Lover's Lanev Where I heard Goofus', telling L'Lucille,, '4Love Tales that turned out to be uLies,'. By the Lazy River I saw the Parisian Lover Begging For Love . '4Give Me Your Affection I-Ioneyi' and tell me that Weill be Sweethearts For- everv. As I was overhearing his wooing, I felt Guilty and when he turned to me and said, I'l1 Be Glad When You're Dead, You Rascal You , I said, 'GI Apologizev. '6By the Sycamore Treen I heard Juliet say I'm Fit As a Fiddle and Ready for Loven. Sez Romero, '4Please', uPut Your Little Arms Around Me , and, as she did so, he said, Oh 'LMy Darlingi' 'GWhy Can't This Night Go On For- ever? F ain would I have stayed and listened to their Love Talcsv, but, as 4'Three Is a Crowd , I went my 6'Weary', way. Angelo Avila E211