Banning High School - San Gorgonian Yearbook (Banning, CA)

Page 24 text:

A Sunset Dream The sun was setting in the west. A rosy light on San Jacinto’s crest Transformed the winter's grey forbidding air To jeweled lights and warmth of summer fair. The knotty pines that lined her ridges To me did seem like fairy bridges That spanned betwixt this world of ours And lovely realms of sunshine and flowers. The soft light slowly faded from the west And darkness shrouded San Jacinto’s crest. It seemed as if I'd looked on a phantom land Created and withdrawn by a magic hand. WR, 22 Balmy Spring has softly stolen upon us. Everywhere the birds are sweetly singing and chirp- ing, in their own simple way, a praise to Spring. Listen to the drumm‘ng woodpecker; the whirring humming bird—jewei of flowers and orange groves —and to the sweet, hesitating, thrilling song of the meadow lark. Never did sweeter sounds ruffle the spring air. Notice the little English sparrows flitting among the trees and the grave, dignified robin hopping in the green grass. The blossom- ing orchards are a vision of exquisite loveliness made still more enchanting by the busy, happy honey-bee. Beyond these fairy gardens stand the rugged mountains whose towering peaks have not yet lost their blanket of snow. The air seems clearer, fresher and more fragrant; human problems less hard. Every one remarks about the beauty Page Twenty 2

Page 23 text:

“Fine, Tommy fine,”’ that’s all we need.” The class of twenty-four did say; Then seven and seven they agreed To pass along St. Peter's way. First Mildred of the curly locks, That prove the most of Junior's downfall; Squaring the circle on homeward walks With Babe—for reasons mathematical. Then Virgil Lehman took the stand Engaged the saint in artless talk; “‘Ching-a-ling, Chow-chow, Bring her to land.” ‘(Como esta Senor saint—need we knock?” Elaine the loveable—the gay And lovely maid with eyes delectable Frank Urton with his kite at play Seeking to make a trade respectable. Then Jim, the darkey, done by George, Who knows more Spanish than a pirate. Looking to see if he could forge A nine, as round the base they gyrate. But soft, hold hard, look out and wait, Heaven would not be heaven without her, His lady comes, a little late, The other fair Mildred in a flutter. “Caramba!”’ Virgil Fox exclaims ‘| don’t like this, I'll take a sailor.” While Mary Maher her stunt ceclaims, Mary Ellen hies her unto a tailor. The last four that St . Peter saw Were Hazel, Nettie, Dick and Clarence, Who much applause stunt-night did draw, For their neat and trim appearance. This was too much for the dreaming saint, He woke and gravely stroked his beard, “It’s more peaceful in Heaven without the complaint Of those whom their course there too early had steered. Let them stay down on earth in Banning High With Prof. and Miss Yocum to clip their wings, When the twenty-four’s graduate, there would be | It's the best class of all and as merry as kings.” Page Nineteen

Page 25 text:

of the season and for once the weather is worth talking about. DeWitt Cothran ’22 n Old, Old Story It was in the days of ’49 on the banks of a wide, shallow river of the western plains. A circle of canvas-covered wagons, with a single fire in the center marked the camp of hardy pioneers enroute to the New West. From the distance a weird uncanny moan broke the silence of the night. [hough seldom heard, this cry was known to the travelers. Instantly the men arose and made ready for defense. During the long night the blood curdling shout of the Cherokee Indian was not repeated—but the guards kept faithful watch. In the morning the travelers carefully broke camp and started across the river. As the last wagon was slowly pulled up the opposite bank, there came through the still morning air that self-same piercing yell of the previous midnight. [he drivers turned and looked back, knowing full well what they would see. There, coming over a distant hill on the other side of the river, they saw their foe, decked out in war dress and coming on their ponies in singlefile. In vain the men prodded their oxen. On came the In- ians, swiftly crossing the river and steadily gaining upon them. Flight was impossible. All turned to the leader, Al Smith. As if inspired by the desperation of the case, Mr. Smith re- called that emallpox had been raging among the different tribes, proving fatal to scores of the Red Men. The Indians would undoubtedly flee from the direase in deadly fear! Now in Mr. Smith’s wagon was a sick boy with a rash upon his face that very much resembled emall-pox. He, ac- cordingly, announced his plan to the company and, in spite of their fears, waved a white cloth to the oncoming Indians. The savages recognized the signal. In a few minutes their leader came up, having previcusly laid aside his bow and arrows. By sign language Mr. Smith told the Indian to fol- low him. He led him to the wagon, uncovered the sleeping boy's face and cried, ‘‘Small-pox.”’ The Indian knew the meaning of the word and did not lose a second in fleeing from the infected wagon to impart the news to his followers. | Then swiftly he led them back across the river, over a distant hill and into regions unknown to the travelers. Whe (Ge Dw A Winter Day The dark clouds, that had been threatening since morn- ing, at noon broke into a roaring, lashing rain. Cruelly whipped by the wind the few flowers, that had dared show Page Twenty-one