King City Joint Union High School - Mustang Yearbook (King City, CA)

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EDITORIAL Now, as this, the La Copa De Oro of June 1927, is before you, we stop in the wake of our laborious tasks, to consider the happenings and the success of the year just closing. Each school year tries to surpass every other year that has gone before it in enterprise and accomplishments. The school year of 1926-27 is no exception to this rule, for June 17 marks the close of the most successful and progressive year in the history of King City Hi. It is accomplishment that counts- actions speak louder than words as the old saying has it-and it is this that has characterized the past year and made it an outstanding one. The faculty, officers, and Student Body as a whole may well feel that glow of satisfaction which comes from ac- complishing things worth-while. The school has had a remarkably successful year. The Honor Society has increased its membership steadily throughout the year, until it now has an enrollment of twenty-nine members, the largest in the history of King City Hi School. And increased interest in scholarship has been mani- fested this year and this effort has had results, judging from the increased Honor members. Every department in school was improved materially, and four new courses were added-Agriculture, Farm Mechanics, Dramatics, and Or- chestra. The new courses were all very popular with the students, and the things learned in these courses may be put to practical use after graduation. The athletic teams were well supported this year and consequently had :1 prosperous season, the lightweight basketball team progressing to the semi-finals of the state championship. A noteworthy achievement was the bringing of the B section C. C. A. L. track meet to King City. All the plans and arrangements for the new shop, to be built directly west of the present one, were completed this year. This decisive step in enlarging our school plant was much needed. The old shop will be remodeled into class rooms to relieve the congested condition in the main builing. While the students this year did not enjoy the new shop, next year's students will reap the benefits of this year's sowing, in the form of the new shop building that will greet them when they return to school. The school grounds as a whole have been greatly improved this year, the gardens blossoming forth as a regular horticulturist's dream. A most notable improvement was the getting of our track into its present perfect condition. Many social affairs were presented under the auspices of the Student Body, as well as assemblies and programs for special occasions. The Student Body also supported the semi-monthly paper, King Hi-Waysg and the Annual, La Copa De Orog and elected their respective staffs. From the above array of accomplishments-not all by any means-it may be seen that the school year just completed was indeed a successful one.

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,I .INV M it.. - . l t 4 . X Long shadows crept across If ' .u the little valley just as they had I Flrst Sweetheart done hundreds and thousands of times before, but the forerun- ' ners of night were never so cordially welcomed by me as they were this afternoon, for Mary had promised to meet me at the bridge, when the sun had set. When I had dressed and shined my shoes, I heard the village clock tolling the hour of six, which reminded me that I must be on my way. I started to sing. I was so happy I wanted to laugh, but I didn't for fear the neighbors would think I had gone crazy. Just what ought I to say to her? I couldn't decide on anything that seemed the proper thing to say, so I went on with the intention of letting that take care of itself. On nearing the last bend around which, when I had gone a few steps farther, would permit me to see Mary sitting on the bridge with the wind tossing and fluttering the frills of her dress, I paused to adjust my collar for the last time and to wipe the dust particles off from my shoes. My heart climbed up in my throat as I peeked around the corner, and, then, with the view that met my eyes, it sank to my feet. Mary was not there. I walked slowly to the bridge, and to my utmost surprise, I found the dainty little print of her slippers, and near by the deep impression of a man's shoe. I followed their path across the bridge, and as I raised my eyes, I saw them walking arm in arm over the brow of the grass covered hill. A gloomy darkness engulfed the valley, and I stood on the bridge alone. By RAYMOND HUSTON With a jerk I bounced up- right in bed, vainly trying to catch a glimpse, through the surrounding darkness, of the mysterious person or thing that had made that faint but startling noise. Listening closely for any repetition of the sound, I heard soft footsteps and realized that the noise was caused by some intruder not familiar with the arrangement of our furniture. Releasing my held breath with a hissing sound, I gasped: Whassat'? The footsteps ceased, and my heart, which had been pounding excitedly the last few seconds, almost ceased beating. I remained in a rigid at- titude for several minutes Qthat seemed like an hourl, nervous chills running down my back, and with the uncomfortable feeling that my hair was stand- ing' on end. Then, with a courage unusual for me, I decided to end the suspense. I cautiously got out of bed on the wrong side, receiving quite a shock when my bare feet touched the cold floor. After unexpectedly touching the foot of the bed, I just managed to check my leap for the protection of the bed-covers. I continued on my way swallowing continually to moisten my dry mouth and throat. A loose board creaked, and I waited tensely and brcathlessly before essaying another step. As I entered the front room I stopped, almost paralyzed, staring into the gloom that filled the room. Tremblingly, feeling the presence of some other person in the room, I push- ed the electric light switch. With a weak voice I called for Mother. There, blinking at the light, her tail beating joyfully against the floor, sat Spot beside the pillow with which she had fallen from the most comfortable rocking-chair in the room, whIch was still faintly swaying. I Whassat? By MARGARET BULLARD