Analy High School - Azalea Yearbook (Sebastopol, CA)

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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

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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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rode recklessly along unmindful of Gayley’s warnings and, before he realized it, he had been knocked from his horse. Sir Gayley rushed to the rescue and spoke quickly. “You have a hard fight before you. Sir Meter and Sir Harmony, with all their attending servants of Hard and Soft Consonants, are arrayed against you.” As the knight arose it seemed as though an army had advanced to meet him. A feeling of despair seized him. But when Sir Gayley cried, “Remember the Queen !” he drew his sword and sprang for¬ ward. It was a hard fight, for when he had killed both Meter and Harmony, their avenging troops surrounded him. hen he had killed a Hard consonant, a Soft consonant would take its place, and when a Soft consonant fell there sprang up a Hard one. At last when all were overcome, he fell exhausted on the field of battle. Gayley bore him away, dressed his wounds and brought him back to life. On the morrow , “ a sadder but wiser man, he wended his way farther along the Path of English toward the road to Knowledge. The next pass was guarded by a small man in blue armor who wore huge spectacles. He, Gayley said, was Sir Halleck. 1 his was the longest of his battles. Several times it seemed as though Halleck would surely overwhelm him, but each time the nameless knight lose with renewed fury. One sword was broken, but Gayley substi¬ tuted another. With this second he at length threw Halleck to the ground pierced through the heart. Though the knight was weary, Gayley allowed only a short rest, for the way was growing darker and more dangerous every minute. 1 he path became narrower. Presently thev were forced to walk one ahead of the other and to cling tightly to the cliff for fear of falling down, down, down to the depths below. Suddenly, without warning, as if he had come from nowhere, a monstrous black thing blockaded the way. With a great effort the knight raised his head. Before him stood a mighty giant, twice the size of any ordinary mortal. He was clothed in black armor and wielded a massive sword. His eyes glowed red as fiery coals; but that which attracted the knight and held him spellbound were the letters which were written across his breast—letters which stared at him like flaming torches— P O E M The nameless knight started, “his hair stood on end, his voice stuck in his throat.” The giant lifted his sword. The knight saw now it was useless to oppose him. “Surrender !” the giant shouted. The sound echoed and re-echoed as thunder rolls through the clouds. 20