Livermore High School - El Vaquero Yearbook (Livermore, CA)

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ZS GREEN G GOLD All houses are cleaned, so why not our school? Aside from the home, the average student spends most of his time at school. Should he not take some pride in keeping his school clean? Would you throw papers and waste on your lawn at home? No, you would not. Then let us, in the future, help to keep our school looking fairly good. Pick up trash and keep the schoolrooms clean. And, in conclusion, I want to say again, don'r be discouraged, but fight on, Keep our school clean, and if you ever feel like giving up, think of this little limerick: There was a school of my schooldays, That was the seat of my learning, It was always so clean, No dirt could be seen, For it my heart keeps on yearning. Howard Lindbergh, '29, MEMORIES OF YOU When I stand in the doorway at evening, When I sit in a chair by the fire And see the sun setting out there, And watch the flames leaping high, When I'm walking along on the Seashore, When I hear the voice of a robin And feel the wind toy with my hair, Telling that Springtime is nigh, When at morn I look from my window, Whenever I walk among flowers, And behold on the flowers the dew, Those flowers of beautiful hue, Whenever, whatever, happens Whenever, whatever happens Brings back sweet memories of you. Brings back sweet memories of you. When oft' I sit on a long afternoon And summer is in full sway, When I wander up in the mountains blue Where nature has her way, Where're I've come, where're I've gone All these long years through, Wlienevei', whatever happens Brings back sweet memories of you. Betty Wolfe, 31. 1 4 OLD ONE LEG You all wonder perhaps how old One Leg lost his leg. I am now the sole survivor of the original witness. Wfhen old One Leg died recently he asked me, as a last favor, if I could write the true story of how he lost his leg, and so put to rest the conflicting stories now in circulation. Although I am not a very good story teller, I agreed to do this, and that is my object in writing. It happened that I was sailing on the famous pirate ship, the Black Ghost, under that notorious pirate, 'Cutthroat Ike. We had made an unusually successful voyage and were on the point of returning to England when one of the sailors dropped the compass overboard. Of course, it was an accident, but since none of us could navigate without the compass we were in a predicament. We sailed around for about a month

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LIVERMORE HIGH Sei-root 27 LITERARY SPRING CLEANING Spring has kuml Yes sir, believe it or not, the period in every year which everyone waits for and welcomes with ecstasies of joy has arrived at last. And how do I know it's really here? Why, the girls with their legs exposed to the weather ought to be ample proof. But, to the doubtful ones, I need only to refer them to the sighs and groans of the distracted students in the classrooms, which, when combined with the deliberate laziness of the aforementioned students, leads to only one possible conclusion. The terrible malady of spring fever has descended upon our earth. Therefore, it is evident that spring is really here. Perhaps you will allow me to recite 'for you a short poem that will prove my state- ment. All right, let's go: When the birdies in the trees When the lovers in the park Start in singing melodies, Stay there way after dark, Then you know that Then you know that Spring is Here! Spring is Here! When the boys run in a flock With their overcoats to hock, When the girlies bare their knees And just seem about to freeze, When you see the B. V. D's. Floating gently in the breeze, Then you know that 1 Y SPRING IS HERE! Well, now that spring has been proved to be here, what are we going to do about it. In the hrst place, don't get spring fever and be discouraged. You know, our students aren't so bad off. There are a lot of people more unfortunate. Think of the poor man who pawned his false teeth to get something to eat. And then we land the case of the Scotchman who shot himself because when he ordered alphabet soup he found that several letters of the alphabet were missing. But probably there is no equal to the tough luck of the bell-hop who looked through a key-hole for an hour, only to find it was a clothes closet. Now to get down to business and start Hspeecliing my spoochf' As you know, one of the disadvantages of spring is spring cleaning. I don't see how in the world a person with spring fever can spring clean. But it must be possible because it has been goin' on since Adam was a boy. Whereas, carpet-raising, fumigation, wall scrubbing, etc., was in order a few years ago, spring cleaning has moderated to such an extent that a person does not have to move himself out in the back yard while the house is being cleaned. But nevertheless, I must confess the spring cleaning is carried out every year with clock- like regularity and there is no getting away from doing it

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LIVERMORE HIGH SCHOOL 29 before we sighted land. Our provisions were almost gone, and we had to ration out the water. Then one morning we sighted a low green coastline in front of us. Owing to the heat we knew it must be a tropical country, but we had no way of telling what one it was. We had lost our compass off the West Indies. We sailed along the coast of this unknown land until we came to the mouth of a large stream. Cutthroat Ike decided to go ashore and scout out the land, choosing me and two others to accompany him. We all got into the small boat and pushed off, keeping a lookout for any signs of life. We had plenty of weapons in case we found hostile savages. We entered the mouth of the river with Cutthroat Ike standing in the prow of the boat to act as look out and pilot. Finding the water to be fresh, clear, and good tasting, we decided to explore the river for a few miles. It was a strange country that slid past us on each side. It was a riot of color with palm trees and bright flowers growing down to the waters edge in a tangled jungle. Monkeys and parrots shrieked and chattered in the trees at us as we rowed upstream. We went about three miles without seeing any signs of human life, so Cutthroat Ike gave the order to go to the bank and try to land. We approached a spot where the 'vegetation was less tangled than elsewhere. There was a convenient log lying half on the beach and half in the water. We decided to tie the boat to that log. Ike was in the bow of the boat poised to jump to the log and make the boat fast. When the boat was about three feet from the log he jumped to the part that was out of the water. Suddenly a strange thing happened. Ike had no sooner touched the log than it doubled up and disappeared into the water. Ike was thrown into the water away from the shore by this sudden movement. Before we could move we heard him yell and saw him pulled under the water. By this time we had grabbed a boat-hook and when he came to the surface again we hooked onto his collar and dragged him into the boat. He was unconscious and his left leg was neatly cut off just above the knee. The innocent looking log was in reality a sleeping crocodile. We did what we could to stop the blood which had covered the bottom of the boat by the time we started back. With the aid of the current we made record time back to the ship. Willing hands helped us aboard, and took Ike to his cabin. He had a hard time getting well owing to the limited knowledge of medicine that our doctor possessedg and the life he had led in the past had weakened him so that he had very little reserve strength with which to fight for his life. We found out that we were off the coast of Africa, and by sailing north we managed to get back to England. It was a long, hard journey, but Ike managed to survive. You may wonder why I started to tell about how Old One Leg lost his leg, and then started to tell about how Cutthroat Ike lost his. The fact is that they are the same person. When Ike got well he retired from pirating and returned to private life in England. He was not able to do much with his wooden leg, but as he had collected quite a fortune at sea he settled down to a life of idleness. His friends bestowed on him the title of Old One Leg and people have come to accept this as his real name, and to forget that he was once the terrible pirate, Cutthroat Ike. Donald Stone, 'Bly