Katherine Delmar Burke School - Works and Days Yearbook (San Francisco, CA)

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Ur J PARADE OF THE FLAGS THE DRUM CORPS IVIQSIIIIII Days I251

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MORNING Morning in the frozen Arctic waste, Witli its stealthy silent tread, Morning on the mountain, Coming like a conqueror to claim its own, Morning in the jungle, Stealing down the trees until it reaches the ground, Where it dances in and out among the tangled vines, Causing some beasts to skulk into their lairs And some to crowd forth with joyous noises, Morning in the purple desert, Bursting forth like a blast from the fires of the Titans, The parching sand beaten down under its merciless rays, Morning on the sea, A dance of wind-chased waves, A glowing lace-edged mist, Then-the sun! CLARA VAN Nnss, '20 AN INDIAN SONG The wind is howling round the tepee, Over the mesa whirls the sand, Come, come, my little Navajo, And near me stand. Hear the wails of the coyote From the rough, deep canyon bed, Come to me, my little Indian, The day is fled. Aie, the sand-clouds whirling, whirling, Are sent by angry gods to slay, Bow down before them, O my man-child, For mercy pray. CARo1. KLINK, '21. 241 Works andDays

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HIS BIRTHDAY SCENE I The small dining rooin of an average, Oh, a very average fainily. There are live ordinary dining rooni chairs and one high-chair. ENTER FATHER, rattling a newspaper, followed later by inother, who puts little George in the high-chair. Mary and Janies, hfteen and sev- enteen respectively, take their places. Uncle Everett takes the last vacant chair. You know the type-he is about thirty-eight, and although both the niirror-like surface on the top of his head and his girth are increasing daily, he has never lost his inerry habit of surprising one in deep nieditation by a resounding thunip on the back and a jovial Well, how's the old man? UNCLE EVERETT. Gtmorning, everybody. All alive and happy, eh? Well Well well Well fdrawing the chair up to the table 'with a bunip at each successive well, wellj. And hOW's the little man over there? He 's a big man now, isn't he? A Whole year older today. Well, Well, Well - Well land as an afterthoughtj hm, well, Well. GEORGE, having just stoked his niouth with Post Toasties, reinains silent perforce except for a few gurgling sounds indicative of a desire to reply. MOTHER- Yes, GeOrgie's a big boy now. Five today. Everett, try to be home early tonight so that you will be in time for his birthday dinner. ' l UNCLE EVERETT. Yes, yes, surely mus'n' miss that. K To George 2 That Wouldn't do at all, would it, George? And what does he Want for his birthday? GEORGE fwho has regained control of his vocal abilities with an effortj. Gulp, I Wanna cowboy suit. UNCLE EVERETT. Well, well! Fuzzy trousers, picture hat, and all. We 'll have to see about that. GEORGE I having finished, and wiped the encrustation of egg and inilh of his mouth, turning at the doorj. 'N I Wanna pistol, too. fGoes outj. MOTHER. No, indeed, Everett, George must not have that suit. He would tire of it in no time and then it would just be kicking about the nursery and adding to the general mess. And as for the pistol, it is simply out of the question. Why, only the other day I was reading that a Scandinavian scientist said that the habit of training children to play with firearms had made this last War possible. I personally think a set of the t'Book of Knowledge would be the thing for him, for While he may not be able to read them now, he would so enjoy them later and one al-- FATHER fernerging froin the paper for the hrst tiniej. No, no. Get him anything but books. Books as a gift for a boy of his age are an insult. f261 Works andDays