Lincoln High School - Cardinal Yearbook (Portland, OR)

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WAGONS AND STARS My lIle should be unIque It should be an alms a battle, a conquest, a medIcIne Such was the declaratIon of Emerson In hIs memorable essay Sell l2elIance l-le gIves us thIs Idea not as a star to whIch we can tIe our wagons, but as the wagon Itself whlch although It may hlt ruts and puddles, wlll talce us a long way toward our goal Il we drIve properly Our lIves should be an alms, a QIVIUS, not of maternal thIngs, Food, clothes shelter, but of the Intanglble thlngs whIch really malce llle worth lIvIng Our grouchlness, surllness, and the blues we should lceep hldden, but our Ioy, happlness and generoslty we should share wIth others LIle should be a battle, a war between good and evIl OF course we cant expect It to be an easy conquest to conquer ourselves, we must cultlvate and develop our FInest thoughts and Ideals They are our strength Most ol all l thlnlc, our llves should be a medIcIne a medIcIne For others as to hlgher thrngs IS a good way to express thus subjectrve Idea Our former thoughts and deeds loollsh though they may be teach us to do better next tIme It IS a wIse man who f26llZ2Sl'1lS past mIstalces and takes them to heart We can also act as a medIcIne to others What a Ioy It would be to feel we were as good as a tonrc to all our frlends If we can heal theIr mental Ills or banlsh theIr melancholy we have accompllshed much worth whlle Never be too busy to glve help to others and llsten to theIr troubles An alms, a battle, a conquest, a medlcmel When our lIves attaln these ends we shall be happy There wIIl be love for manlcmd ID our hearts and true peace In our souls Dorothy DIll Tl-lE GRAY GCDOSE Loolc the gray goose FlIes on the l'lIQl'1WIl'lCl l'lonlcIng hIs joy to the wlnd and the slcles l-le needs no compass, no lIghts, no roads l'le honlcs, and he Flles In the early morn, The gray slcy above wIth a strong breeze blowIng, The brown l:Ields below wIth the low log rIsIng John Kovtynovlch Page Twe ty th ee Y H . . . i 1 ' I ' I I s . . . . I . t I i . I . . . . I . . well as For ourselves. A famous quotation, Our dead selves are stepping stones I I I I , . . . ' . . I I . . . I i rl ' f

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DO YOU KNCDW ME? l am a popular female named Elizabeth, Betty, Lizzy, or what have you. l am very popular with college and high-school boys. l am not such a hot-looker, but many a better dressed, prettier individual of my type envies me. To give you a description of myself, so that you will unmistakably recognize me, l shall say that my features are some blunt, some sharp. Very seldom am l seen painted. l wear patched .clothing and glass-less spectacles, but the boys think l'm hot. You should see the stuff they slip me to drink. Nevertheless, l am healthy. They pour coal-oil, benzene, liquid cleaner, shoe polish, hot water, olive oil, and dish- water down my greedy throat. Yet, l am unsatisfied. Sometimes l fear l make a nuisance of myself, and hope the dear boys will forgive me. Many a time have my ears been scolded by the blast of contemptuous expressions which flows so fre- quently from their mouths. At times they have kicked me. Once they ran me through a wringer, and as a result my beautiful body is bescarred. The boys seemed very sorry and went to Mr. Woolworth's for some paint to cover up my ugly marks. Who is there that does not admire me, respect me, love me, desire me,-all for my unassuming beauty and gait? Who does not recognize me by this accurate description of myself? l defy you to excel itl Still, you confess you don't know me? l low absurdl l have been unjustly termed 'iBrazenl', but l'm notl l'm only Tin, and l-lenry is my daddy. -Violet Sykes. 0 LEAVES AND SMOKE When still, brown waters sleep beneath an amber sun, And leaves like glowing coals spin down and then are lost, When night's first, twinkling stars appear just one by one, And vagrant smoky breezes hold a hint of frost, Upon the hills l see the lndian watchfires glow, The tepees huddled 'neath the sky's blue velvet cloak. l know they're not there now, all this was long ago, lt's just a dream that's woven of the leaves and smoke. -Virginia Ellenburg. Page Twenty-two

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FRAMED While attending a class in room Q09 of Lincoln l'ligh School, l happened to notice a very pretty picture of gay colored Flowers on the wall. The background of this picture was in shades of grey and blue, but the frame was a very brilliant gold. Something about this oil painting was very unrestful, and l sat for a time trying to decide what was the disturbing element. At last l realized that it was the brilliance of the gold frame, which was much brighter than any color in the picture. It a grey driftwood frame were exchanged for the gold one, the picture itself would attract the eye. As it is, the frame far excels the picture in the interest it attracts. If this frame were changed, people would give more attention to the beauty of the picture. Many people are similar to the painting and its frame. For example, an ordinary girl who has a very sweet personality is dressed very gaudily. The average observer will notice her appearance, but not spend any time in learning what a charming girl she really is. l'ler frame is so brilliant that the beautiful picture within is not noticed. lf she were more simple in her appearance, we would not be frightened away, before her real worth was learned. The manners of speakers are often like this frame. A speaker who talks in a loud, gruff voice, gets carried away by his own speech, and waves his arms frantically about him, is not given the attention that is given to one who states his speech in a moderate voice, putting emphasis on the important points. l-lis audience is watching his actions and not listening to the value of his ideas. Frames may be applied to many things in life. Every individual should be careful to select his surroundings, clothes, and actions carefully. They should set off, not offset, his character, his true self. ln other words, select a plain frame so as not to have one which will be brighter than the picture. -Jean Belding. MY LITTLE STACK OF PRIMERS My heart leaps up when l behold a little stack of books lying contentedly in one corner of my library. These little books are primers, the first l used when l started school. These little books, which l have saved throughout the years, taught me the first steps in reaching up and grasping mentally. They were used in building the corner stone of my house. As the years slowly go by, my house increases in size, until now it is almost complete except for the roof and the finishing touches. l will be looking toward the time when my house will be completely finished, even an aerial set up. But during the grinding process, l will always look back caressingly to those little primers, which laid my corner stone and set me in this journey seeking for knowledge. -David Saltman. Page Twenty-four