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Page 14 text:
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VN! Blue dnd. Gold 434 E be E ff-ss ' 27 uncertain. Q A 1 if wg ,iff L V lx PAWS UP T WAS well on in the evening when the sheriff returned to the prison. So exhausted was he from driving over miles of muddy roads, made almost impassible to travel by the early spring rains, that he scarcely waited to see his three prisoners locked in the cells before he retired for the night. Whether it was the courthouse clock booming off the hour of twelve or a nervous sense of responsibility regarding the three new inmates that caused the night-watchman to awake with a start from his forty winks is He sat patiently trying to recollect his thoughts, when he heard a faint sound, a weird cry, a scratching noise like that of steel grating against metal, or a file sawing the iron bars. It stopped and for a moment he thought he had been dreamingg but, being startled by someone's mounting the steps outside, he arose to open the doorg an excited deputy confronted him. The maid, it seems, frightened by the cry and soft footstep stealing past her win- dow, had awakened the sheriff, who, in turn, aroused his two deputies. The three ofiicers and the night-watchman met in the lobby of the jail. The sheriff realized the seriousness of the situation. He had three prisioners sentenced to the penitentiary, whom a gang of fellow thieves was willing to attempt anything to free. An investigation must be made, for at intervals that grinding, gritting sound could be heard. In a few minutes a system of searching was organized. A man was stationed at each corner of the block and was to work in towards the center until the intruder be surrounded. The little group stole silently from the jail. On their hands and knees they crept from their respective corners. Hiding behind. protruding pieces of wall, stealing cautiously around corners, inch by inch they covered their ground. A shout!-with hands on revolvers, intense with excitement, the 1nen rushed toward the noise. In a dark out-of-the-way cubby-hole they met. For an instant all stood, their guns raised. In the gleam of the flashlight posed the convict, a mammoth black cat, threatening to tear the garbage can to bits in an effort to secure his midnight lunch. -Virginia Long, '26 A LOVER I love to walk o'er grassy hills, Where streams have been and trees have grown, Where birds are quiet, winds ares till, --But not alone. I love to drive a speedy car, And go places, to me, unknown, I love to see things afarg --But not alone. I love to sit beneath the stars, Shining as they have always shown, And soulfully regard the moong -tBut not alone. -Horace Redden, '26 Thirteen
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Page 13 text:
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and 6O1d 5'-f SOCIETY DINNER an invitation to a dinner party, which was to hotel. l worried the whole day over it, as it experience in society, and I was skeptical as to be. I filled in my spare moments reading all the could beg, buy, or steal, and practicing their the time passed. About eight o'clock, recover- myself seated at a table in the large dining-room remember was that I was trying to feel and look led to such things daily. I casually glanced around the e were millions of people present. lXfIy eyes must have orror I saw a string of silverware reaching about three 1 right and left. I guess they were supposed to be mine . to anyone else. .1 my dread of all the implements before me, when a vhich I will not attempt to describe. I put my hand out th which to eat this food. Miy hand was shaking andI .ie tool, or any tool as for as that goes. It really did not vhich one I ate with, but I knew that I must do as the rest in finding the right piece of silver, when the orchestra began to dance and leave the tempting cocktail. from the dance, I found that the waiter had removed the first it with a great, scrawly, red lobster on a rather small platter. I forks into it and, whether it was dead or alive, it greatly objec- its disapproval, it made a great leap of about fifteen inches into the to the table with a bang. The waiter, to make the scene less tragic, the red sea beast at once, much to my joy. However, my spirits sank to depths when I saw the waiter returning with the twin of the former. The was not quite so spirited as was his mate, so I managed pretty well. Finally the last course was served and consumed. As I glanced at the table, to my dismay I found that I had a knife left lying beside my plate. It took my last ounce of courage to get that knife out of sight. I succeeded in slipping it into my purse. VVhen I started down the hotel steps, the knife fell out of my purse and went clanging down on the hard tiling. That brought an end to my first experience in society and I am still greatly in lack of courage to venture forth again. -Lorene Ingram, '28 Twelve
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Page 15 text:
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1X.....t.i Q Q Blue dnd Gold HOLD CHIEF CATALINAM 5,11 O YOU KNOVV that most famous and most wonderful sculpturer, the N 9' Old 'VI f h S 9 ,sal f tanoteea. QQ Near Laguna Beach there is a very stately Indian ever looking towards zkuifika the sea. He lives at Aliso, a beach south of Laguna, where many campers come every summer. But, odd to say, very few people ever see him. How queer it is to say that very few people ever see him because he is from twenty-five to thirty feet high and about twenty feet wide. He is ever looking at Santa Catalina, where he once lived, yearning year in and year out to be back there to live in the wilds of the western side of the island. Strange, isn't it, that so very few people see him? Often I have camped at Laguna Beach, but never before had I been at Aliso, so I sauntered around to see what sort of surroundings there were that I was going to camp in. I gazed over the ocean, about sun-down, to the isle I love so well, wishing I were there. The gold of the sun was dancing in flashing rays upon the water. My, what a beautiful sunset! To be an artist and paint it as my eye saw it! My, what's that cliff supposed to represent FH I asked. It looks as if it's carved to represent something. I wonder what it could be ? An old sailor, hearing me, spoke. That,H he said, is Old Chief Catalina. Have you ever heard the story that is connected with it? Of course it is a myth, because it was carved by the breakers, as many other places of Laguna are, but the legend sounds like a possibilityf' No, said I, I haven't. Well, in 1507, Old Chief Catalina was made ruler of the island. As you know, in 1542 Senior Juan Cabrillo came to the island. Old Chief Catalina and his people, in their rage, fought against Cabrillo and his men. Never before had they fought people who had gunsg and they didn't know how to fight themg and consequently they were beaten. Chief Catalina, instead of surrendering, dove off of the top of Sugar Loaf and swam for the mainland. f'For two days and nights he swam in the cold water and finally at sunrise of the third day he reached shore. The minute he touched his foot on shore he was turned into stone by the gods of the sky. The water, being cold, froze him hard and the sun beat down upon him. As he baked, his head grew larger and larger and the rest of his body disappeared. until there sat the head of an Indian. twenty-five feet high and twenty-three feet wide. From then until now he has been baking in the sun and that is why you see him there. Never does he move his heady always he keeps it faced toward his former home. Every evening as the sun goes down, Old Chief Catalina moans to go back to his island. My, what a beautiful legend! Yes, but the true story is that the ocean has been pounding against it for several hundreds of years and has carved it as you see it todayf, Thus ends the story of Old Chief Catalinafl -Richard Dugdale, '28 Fourteen Q lx
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