Madera Union High School - Blue and White Yearbook (Madera, CA)

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VODA ELS) VE aS FS) CS) M YS IPODODaADE ) ® COMMENCEMENT. ve 8, 1906. Ce “PROGRAM. Piano Solo - - - - ANNIE METz Address, ‘‘Ninth Annual Graduation’’ - - CORNELIUS J. APPLING Oration, ‘‘Reasons for Attending High School’’ - BELLE HOSLER History, Prophecy and ‘Testament of the Class of 1906 - - - IRENE TIRZA BRYAN Vocal Solo - - - ELLA K. RANSOM Essay, ‘‘Beginning of Madera’’ AGNES Cook Delivery of Diplomas - - - - - Vocal Solo : Maup WILLIAMS

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GEORGIA DODSON DORA BELCHER ELLA RANSOM HoORACK BAILEY FRANCES FRANCES CORINNE ALLEY McFApDDEN LOINAZ

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PURPLE AND WHITE. Restored to the Living. CORINNE LOINAZ,’ 06 et SILVER-HAIRED man, bent with age, stood at his cabin door, his eyes @| fixed on the wooded mountains be- fore him. ‘‘Fifteen years; yes it is fifteen years to-day since I came to this solitary place,’? he mused, accentuating each syllable with a stroke of his snow- white flowing beard. ‘‘The world beyond that obstructive wall is hateful to me. All this time it has served as a barrier between me and civilization and noble has its ser- vice been to a lonely, forsaken man. “But to-day I will take a peep over that hill, just one peep, and then back to se- clusion.’’ So speaking, he closed his door and with faltering steps, turned toward the mountain. Slowly, steadily, he climbed the hill, pausing now and then to makea path with his cane through the tangled meshes of trees and vines. At length he reached the summit. stood gazing at the scene to call forth enthusiastic praise. A He wonderful scene—a study in ¢§ stretched before him,— 5 xreen 71 great lawns, which, uninjured by the so- called improvements of civilization, ri- valled in beauty any park made by man. Majestic oaks dotted the valley and aro- riot of bloom. matic flowers were in a Rippling streams wound through nature’s green carpet. The lowing cattle, pasturing on the grassy slopes, the hum of industri- ous insects and the warbling of innumerable feathered songst ers enlivened the quietude of the picturesque valley. On the opposite range, green roofs of prosperous homes, clinging to the mountainside, gleamed ag- At his gushing spring, with flowers playing on its gressively in the sunshine. feet, a grassy margin, trickled down the mount- ainside. ‘The old man stood in amazement and in- haled the grandeur of it all. ‘To think,” he soliloquized, ‘‘that this Garden of the Gods cannot be my No The Fates are against me. I home! it cannot be! wish But I will say no more, nor wil! I think of such that I had never set foot in England. a misfortune, when Nature, in her silent way, iscallir :o me to share with her, her joys. Itisev lent that this beautiful val- ley of the Cats ills is a summer resort, for hose palatial homes can be none other than he country seats of the wealthy New York- That brilliantly lighted mansion on that hill must bea hotel for tourists. There How well used to ers. gaiety and liveliness pervade. I can remember how Ruth and I indulge in such pleasures. How warm and caressing that sun is and this exhilarating breeze almost makes me feel young again.”’ As the golden sun was receding behind the shadowed mountains, the old man cast one last lingering look over the magnificent sight and reluctantly turned his back upon mocking civilization. But would look closely, he would see a new light in His step was even if one the gentle gray eyes. more steady than before,—almost vigorous. Now the dark and solitary canyon in his eyes was as beautiful as the most beautiful of valleys; his thatched-roof cabin with the the trailing vine over the door was as grand asa king’s palace; the water from his moss-covered well as soft and pure as the purest water from the fountains of old Rome, and his mischievous chipmunk as dear to him as gold was to Midas. Vet there was something on his mind which not even nature with all her splendor could dispel. Nevertheless he was thank- ful to her for what she had done for him. Even his pet chipmunk seemed to recog- nize a change in his master, as he silently greeted him at the cabin door. The ever caressing stroke seemed to be even more caressing than before. As the old man entered, the first thing that met his eyes was the photograph of a young woman. ‘Taking it in his hand, he kissed it tenderly, then studied the Grecian profile, the bright, laughing eyes, the sensi- tive mouth partly opened as if ready to speak, and the wealth of brown fluffy hair crowning the shapely, well-poised head,