Santa Rosa High School - Echo Yearbook (Santa Rosa, CA)

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“he Dawn of a New Day EW YEAR’S eve had come again. ‘The little hall beneath he redwoods fairly beamed with mirth and laughter. About he room were groups of both young and middle-aged, anxious for the dance to commence. At one end, on a little ylatform, a heating stove, red-hot with its efforts, success- fully battled with the cold air of the winter night. On the same platform, but a little to one side, a man tuned a violin. He was a stranger who had happened into this out-of-the-way place. He had a jovial way about him that won the hearts of the young people. Outside, a cold, white coat covered the earth, and a biting wind, exulting in its strength, whistled through the trees. Everything else was silent. The moon, shining between the passing clouds, seemed to shiver as her silver rays fell upon the white blanket protecting the tender plants and bushes from the frosty air. Tottering through the snow, a figure approached the building. It was an old man, with gray hair and a long, flowing beard. The fire in the once bright eyes was now dim. Beneath the old black overcoat that covered his figure, he clasked a precious violin. As he neared the hall, he suddenly stop- ped. Disappointment, sorrow, pain, all in turn, covered his countenance. He staggered, caught himself, leaned heavily against the sheltered side of a tree. A great tear rolled down his cheek, for the picture of former years passed before him. Me saw a group of men clearing a small patch of land beneath stately reawoods. Lumber was hauled and an assembly hall built. One, the leader, was always cheerful and happy. It was his former self. In another picture he saw the same figure, but older now. He was playing a violin, while the crowds danced. Here, the old man started toward the building, but halted before a window. He searched the faces of those within. There were none that he had seen in the first picture. He looked again and saw few faces seen in the second picture. He was numb with cold, but he would not intrude. They had forgotten him, and had chosen a violinist, who couly play later and more popular music. As the aged musician listened, a sob burst from his lips. It was not the music, filled with purity and simplicity, that had always been played in the little hall. Heartbroken, he returned to his little cabin, nestling near the side of a brook. He was greeted by his only companion, an old hound, which, like his master, was growing feeble with age. Tears rolled from the old man’s eyes as the faithful animal, his one remaining friend, licked his hands. Throw- ing a chunk into the fire, he watched it burn and waited for the midnight hour. He was growing weak, but he still might play on his old violin, and welcome the New Year, as he had done so many times before. It was midnight. The cuckoo clock sent forth its farewell to the passing twelve months. The New Year victories took the place of the old. The little hall echoed with laughter and wishes of a “Happy New Year”; but in a small, time-worn cabin, all was silent, save the low murmur of the wind and the trickling of the nearby brook. The life on earth had flown with the old year, but the dawn f the New Year brought eternal peace. [Page eighteen]

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THE ECHO But when he saw the sweepy hair Girt with a crown of berries rare, Beholding this, he did not dare Approach that threshold in the sun, Assault the old king smiling there. Such grace had kings when the world was young.” “°Tis God’s voice calls, how could I stay.” And Luigi went—to Free- dom, to his duty. “T, tonight at least, would be Monsignor, that holy and beloved priest. Such had been the little silk maid’s fancy at the dawn. That New Year’s night the good Monsignor sat in the Bishop’s palace. His brother, the Bishop, was dead, yet his trusted attendant still lived; lived to tell of the perfidy of both master and menial. ‘And what had become of died that a fortune might pass from master to the Bishop’s child? Had it man? “No; ‘tis but a little, black-eyed, gay, silk-winding girl. Sir, I will make way with her for you. Is it a bargain?” hrough the window admitting of the waning light, float- Softly, sweetly, t “Suddenly God took me,” closed the song. ed the words of a young girl's. The good Monsignor lifted both voice and hand. A rush, a struggle, a hush ;—a villain lay dead outside Monsignor’s door! New’s Year’s day was done. Both Pippa’s songs and her fancies must maid entered her room that night, she close with the day. Yet, as the little wondered about the Happiest Four in Asola. “Now, one thing I should really like to know, How near ever might approach all these I only fancied being—this long day. pproach, I mean, so as to touch them,—so As to, in some way, move them, if you please, Do good or evil to them some slight way; Though I passed by them all and felt no sign.” Dear little Pippa! She did not know that her sweet, pure songs had wrongs of the Happiest Four in Asola. She rae | roused the right from the stifling did not even know that they had heard while she lived in fancy, through morn, noon, eve, and night, as the 1er songs as she passed, pouring out her joy Happiest Four in Asola. “God bless me! I can pray no more tonight. No doubt, some way or other, my hymn says right. ‘All service is the same with God— With God, whose puppets, best and worst, Are we: there is no last nor first.’ ” Pippa slept. Her happy New Year’s day had not be squandered! [Page seventeen]

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‘Room Fourteen S usual, the Atherley girls’ room was crowded. Besides be- ing two of the most popular girls at college, their room was especially attractive, and often the haunt of their friends in. the evenings, except on rare occasions, when callers would be confronted with the forbidding sign tacked on the outside of their door— CRAMMING! KINDLY LEAVE US ALONE IN OUR MISERY, This meant that the Atherleys were preparing themselves at the eleventh hour for an ex. The “Atherleys’ Retreat,” as it was commonly called, was the scene of many merry gatherings, it being especially noted for the number of successful midnight feasts held behind its doors. On this particular evening, a stormy one in October, a fudge party was in progress, Nan Hathaway, a lively Junior, and expert chef, presiding at he chafing-dish. Grace and Jeanette therley, clad in big, white aprons, were assisting, while several others were beguiling the time in various ways, until they should be called upon to perform the task of disposing of the fudge. Two of them, members of the mandolin club, were sitting on the sofa, practicing, three or four, gathered around the big library table, were discussing an exciting game of football that had been played that afternoon. lelen Lawson, a Senior, comfortably ensconced in pillows on the broad window-seat, was reading a magazine, apparently oblivious to the fact that anything was going on. “Say, girls, where’s Sally tonight?” asked Helen. suddenly arousing her- self. “First time I ever heard of her missing a fudge party.” “Oh, Sally had a very important engagement this evening, replied Grace therley. “It seems that she was appointed on a committee to plan for the lreshmen girls’ supper. Said that she would try to favor us with her pres- ence later on.” “Well, she’d better hurry up if she expects any fudge, for it will be done in about two minutes, and probably won't last long among this ravenous bunch,” called Nan from behind the chafing-dish, Several minutes later, as all were busily engaged in devouring the fudge, Nan remarked, “Seems to me the Freshies are rather slow about their supper this semester—wonder when they are planning to have it?” “What is this Freshman supper, anyway?” asked a Junior, who had just entered the college that fall, having attended another university for two years. “I have heard it mentioned several times—it seems to be a very mys- terious affair.” “Why, don’t you know about the Freshman supper?” asked Helen. You've missed something in this life if you have never attended one. You see, every semester the Freshman girls are supposed to have a supper with- out letting their enemies, the Sophomores, know of it. They have to make all their arrangements for the supper so that only members of their class [Page nineteen]