Anna Head School - Nods and Becks Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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Beating with passion of glaafqnerr or of woe. The Lurczo an rancisco ng AN FRANCISCO, with its melodious name, its glamorous 5 '-1. 'ig histor its wharves and shi s its man -colored o ula- . Y' . . . ' Y . P P . , ' -.s- tion, and its hill. streets, is as colorful as m sterrous and ,tl v. , 5 I 7 7 Ag as beautiful as it was when Spanish dons paced its few 't V 1-ff and dirt streets, when uitars were heard at ni ht in its ' -' .Q presidio, where Conchita, the daughter of the command- . r , ig . . .via L i ante, danced with gallant Resanov, or when white- winged clipper ships made their stately way into its harbor, and hoarse bits of old miners' songs floated from the saloons which lined its plaza. Now the streets of San Francisco are many and lined with tall buildings which cut white wedges in the blue sky, Conchita Arguello sleeps in a little cemetery, Resanov in a frozen grave, the guitars are silent, the boats which come into the harbor are huge liners and above them fly with keen cool speed steel-Winged, man-made birds, and now the plaza is a quiet peaceful square. All seems changed, and yet, hovering over all is a glamour as haunting as that of old. One may still smell the salt, bilgy smells of the wharves, watch stevedores unloading ships, and hear the swish of the water against the piles. sails of gray hue no longer deck Fishermans XWharf but the boats are still deep blue, the smell of fish remains, and the soft voices of the fishermen are un- changed. In Chinatown men with quiet, aloof, impassive faces, and women with embroidered coats, and jade-ornamented hair still walk to and fro, the shops still display their stock of deer-horn, sandal-wood, jelly-fish and evil smelling herbs. In Little Italy topaz-eyed, slovenly women still sit in the sun on their doorsteps calling soft-vowelled gossip to their neighbors across the narrow, cobble-stoned street, in the tiny stores, which are decorated with sausages, cheese, tubs of fish and olives, and huge crudely-colored pictures of the Bay of Naples or Garibaldi, shopkeepers greet one with the same smile and bow. Telegraph Hill is as 'trowdyu and bowdy as ever, and the little Mission Dolores is still a quiet haven from the tumult of a hot and busy world. The old charm is gone, but it has been replaced by a new, no less fascin- ating or compelling, and like a rich warm color, which in spite of its deep impression evades description in mere stiff words, San Francisco still retains the friendly, hospitable cosmopolitanism which is its heritage from the Span- iards. ANNE Hus, '5O. 21

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Think, then, our! are hzmmn laearts had cause to turn against, So violent is his desire for vengeance that he sinks to the lowest depths and slays Hamlet through deceitg a poisoned rapier in an apparently harmless bout. Not until he is dying through his own machinations, does he realize what he has done to avenge his father and sisterg how insane he has been, and how villainous has been the king's management. Witli his dying breath he begs Hamlets forgiveness. A truly noble youth! SALLY T.AXY'RENCIZ JAGGER, '3O. f f Twilight Qrchestra Twilight is an orchestra Her symphony is clear But only they who listen close Her fairy minstrels hear. The ear attuned to music And the music of the spheres And something that's immortal Is gained by him who hears. So silently and softly Tread on the grass at eve, And hark to slender melodies The twilight shadows weave. BETTY GERWICIK, '30, 20

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In flair wide lonely world AVC OU GZVQI' QQI1 lt? KNOXV you're seen it, when I look at it I wonder how Nye it feels, what it has seen, and if its faithful mechanical brain could think, what it would know, and if its wise old methodical face could speak, what it would relate. I'm sure if it were capable of either of the latter that I should hear something like this: 1 4 I have stood here for a great many years, but no one thinks of offering me a seat. Still I do not care, for I am never allowed to run down. This has been my only world ex- cept for the busy factory where I was made, but I was so young then that I do not remember much of that. I know you think I must get stale, but I keep up with the times of the world. .y V -'ve --wt 5 4 I am really a very important factor in the household, everything revolves around me and about me. I mark the time for every meal and for every class during the day. I serve as judge in many cases when anxious young girls cast hopeful glances in my direction, and either smile or frown at my undisputed decision. Those same charming young girls who are hopeless if my fatal word is not to their advantage, have at various times, tried to beguile their dignified school-marms by turning my hands back to indicate a time that can never be recalled. You know, I am quite different from common day folks, my age does not affect my importance at all. I am looked up to and respected by both old and young. I will admit, however, that my face has not the lustre of youth, and that some of the paint has come off the letters on my face, and my hands are not as lovely as they were when I was new. But you must understand that that's not my fault, for I am just an old grandfather clock, which stands, and has stood, and will stand for many years more in the hall of Anna Head School. ELIZABETH MILLER, '31 22