Analy High School - Azalea Yearbook (Sebastopol, CA)

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The Result of an Over-Worked Brain By LUCILE WILLIAMSON Third Prize D RIP, drop, drip drop. The rain poured down and played on the window sill a monotonous song to Virginia. It was the time of the day when it is too dark to read, but too light for a lamp. Virginia sat beside the window gazing out into the gathering dark¬ ness despondently. She was searching for inspiration and found none. The cause of her meditation was this: the next day she was to make up and give to her English teacher a poem, an original poem. Virginia was not poetic, neither was she original; this she knew, and how she was ever going to get a poem was more than she could tell. During the past two weeks she had read poems of all sorts and kinds, and had absorbed yards of Tennyson until she leally would not be have been surprised to see the “Lily, Maid of Astolat, or the “Great Sir Lancelot ' or even “King Arthur him¬ self walk right into her room at any time. Virginia lay back, ex¬ hausted in the comfortable arm chair. The drip, drop on the win¬ dow was soothing, and before she knew it, she had fallen asleep and dreamed a dream. This is her dream : She stood in the midst of a brilliantly lighted hall, a knight un¬ tried in battle, a knight without a name. The hall was full of courtly people. She stood near other knights, who all had honorable titles. For in this strange kingdom no knight was named until he had proven his valor. No one noticed the nameless knight. All eyes were directed toward the center of the room, toward an elevated platform of marble on which stood a golden throne. Yet the crowd was looking not at the throne, but at the beautiful cpieen sitting there. She was small and lovely beyond description. On her fair, golden hair rested a tiny silver crown, the single emblem of au¬ thority that she wore. Trembling, the nameless knight awaited his turn to speak. Then, dizzily, he felt himself walking toward the Queen and kneeling at her feet. He heard her speak, “What boon seekest thou, fair knight? He was aroused by her words to the real object of his coming to her palace. 18

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Could she do it? It would require courage; but were not her people noted for their bravery? She was fully determined to carry out this plan. When the sun began to sink in the west the warriors led her to the canoes, which had been fastened together. Placed in the front of the first canoe, she guided them silently down the river toward her home. The Indians, unacquainted with the river, did not know when they passed the Ouisby upon the banks of which her home was situated. Malabeam, alone, knew that she had now left behind all that was dear to her. Bidding a slight farewell to her loved ones, and putting from her mind all thoughts of the happiness which was to have been hers on this very day, she turned to meet her death bravely. “Hark! What is that?” cried a brave, as a distant rumble and roar met his ears. “Ah ! that is only the sound of the waters of a stream which joins the Owengondee farther down,” was the girl ' s reply. Little guessing what lay before them, the Indians floated quietly down the river. The rumble and roar grew louder and louder, the water became rougher and rougher, and faster moved the canoes. Finally the canoes lurched, whirled around several times, and, as the Indian maid silently lifted her eyes toward the Great Spirit, they whirled again and dashed swiftly over the falls into the black waters below. A sad fate for one so brave, but she had saved her people. This happened years ago, but even now a water carnival is often held in Grand Falls. And at each of these celebrations a group of canoes, led by one containing an effigy of a young Indian maid, is sent dash¬ ing over the falls.

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“I ask no favor, Gracious Sovereign!” he answered, “only that I may be shown some combat, some battle in which to test my valor, that I, like these others, may be worthy of a name.” The Queen smiled at his youthful enthusiasm and wagered to herself that he would not return so joyfully to start on another quest. But the knight knew not her thoughts and only saw the smile. Then she called a knight standing near, who wore green armor. He had a pointed grey mustache and grey hair. His eyes were kindly, almost humorous at times. Again the Queen addressed the nameless knight: “All knights within this hall who have been worthy of a name have conquered all the dangers along some part of the road to knowledge. If you have a desire for fame, you may conquer the guards of the passes on the Path of English and, nodding to the Green knight, “Sir Gayley will guide you on your way.” Joyfully, the youth set out. forgetful of the dangers, forgetful of the hardships he must undergo, thinking only of the desired fame. The two had not gone far along the Path of English when the ro ad began to narrow and the shrubbery on both sides became more dense. No sooner had Sir Gayley explained that the young knight was nearing the first pass and must overcome the first powerful guard, when suddenly an armed man stood before him. He was a iather fat little man, with a jovial face, but he wore the funniest armor you ever saw. It was black and white and looked ever so much like strange printed words running helter-skelter all over him. Gayley had just time to whisper that he was that great knight. Lord Chaucer, who became powerless if one could break through his armor. Then the combat began. Many times the nameless knight pierced the armor, but not quite through it. It was growing late in the evening, but still Sir Gayley watched an even contest. The nameless knight was becoming tired. He realized that he could not keep up the fight much longer. In a last effort he summoned all his remaining strength ; he lifted his sword on high and with super¬ human strength dealt the fatal blow. Chaucer fell. At last the armor was broken. They rested during the night, then with fresh courage hastened on to the next pass. Here was an opponent far more formidable and terrifying. He knew without being told that this tall, stern man could be no other than the great Puritan knight. Sir Milton. Hard was the struggle, but the knight without a name kept up lus courage and in the end he won. Sir Keats and Sir Shelley, who held passes farther on, were easily overcome. So the young knight, elated at his brilliant success. i9