Berkeley High School - Olla Podrida Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

Page 14 text:

T. (s)mWM comes a rus °f thoughts to me, VV w vli ° mar i°y° us d Yt j Il s Like clouds upon a dancing- sea, + JeT I fain would drive away? And yet they shall my heart control — Our tempered joys are sweet — And truth impressed upon the soul Will make this day complete. I live again the years we ' ve spent From care and sorrow free, Are these to tell, I ask intent, Of what our lives will be? Today within the book of life We start a page most fair, And all the actions in life ' s strife Will soon be entered there. And as a prophet now I see Through many a coming year, And faces which appear to me Are those to memory dear. Some few by laurel wreaths are crowned, To most, success came slow ; But in the distant years ' tis found Each reaps what youth did sow. We cannot win in after days But what our youth has earned; Upon the stage of life, each plays The part he early learned. And so, dear classmates, I have told, In words sincere and true, That which the future will unfold So soon to me and you. But now we part. It is life ' s way. Farewell to all most dear! Yet memory will recall this day, For friends we ' ll drop a tear. E. ' 98. 16

Page 13 text:

MISS MARY B. CLAYES, the efficient teacher of Latin and Greek in the Berkeley High School, is a native daughter of the Golden West. She was educated in the public schools of San Francisco, first at the Denman Grammar, then at the Girls ' High School. She took a classical diploma from the Lowell High School, and in 1892 graduated from the classical course of the University of California, taking an A.B. degree. In 1894 she received the degree of M. A., her thesis being a comparative study of Virgil and Theocritus. She began teaching in the Berkeley High School in 1893. MISS FLORENCE BARTLING, one of our best instructors, was born June 3, 1860, at San Francisco. We feel as though Miss Bartling were an old friend, as she was graduated in 1879 from the Oakland High School, our neighbor. After her career in the High School, Miss Bartling entered the University of California, and was graduated in 1883. She has taught in High Schools for ten years and in the Berkeley High School for three years, during which time she has endeared herself to her pupils by her justice and kindness toward them. Miss Bartling ' s work in English and History is always very interesting and profitable. (We regret exceedingly that it has not been possible for us to obtain photographs of Miss Bartling and Miss Clayes for reproduction.) emtmecence. jECfae! ?ot» t ain mg eager goutfl ' e career, 3 pureueb witf} fonging to 6e great! t$t euntearb patfj-teag Bg ite western gate 3 eoug t to cfimB, But founb it bteappear. $t crgetaf fountain gftttereb et?er near, (?U 3 teae faring ' neat a Burning 6% @Ub parcfjeb xoitty thirst, 0o coufb 3 (ksttate HEitfl goutflfuf (Me to brinft t(Je watere cfear ? £o, tftxt affuring spring teae But a ffkttng goob, ;§bret er un xit xiYicc, t0o ' sought tettfl purpofie ig0 ! Once bieappointment feff, anb get x xxn once more, Z en Bacft to rabiant J)ope 3 t m t n proper moob ; Eeb Bg t at carefuf guibe 3 etruggfeb ae of gore- One uptparb step xintb, anb 3 prepare Sbr future fotfe, to Buffer anb to bare. M. NAKANOUCHI. 15

Page 15 text:

(Awarded First Prize in the Prize-Story Contest.) JL OT ! hot ! hot ! and only eight o ' clock. For two weary hours we had been climbing slowly up the south side of old Mount Wilson, while the sun was putting forth every effort to convert us into reeking, broiling, sizzling specimens of the genus homo. The only sound was an occasional whew! from one of the party, or the dull thud of a walking stick across the back of little Raymond. Six o ' clock that morning had found us, Mr. Danton, Mr. Craig and myself, busily engaged in tying the few remaining pans and cups to the ropes of the pack. Perhaps it never occurred to you how much a bony little two - by - four burro is expected to carry. If there is room enough at one end for him to see, and enough at the other to offer direct communication with a stout walking stick, he will pa- tiently pick his way all day over seemingly impassable trails. Our load was not a light one: a half dozen blankets, two comforts, flour, bacon, a few potatoes, etc., for a three weeks ' hunt, three heavy rifles and a shot- gun, together with a prospector ' s outfit. Poor Raymond watched us intently, and, I suspect, wondered how much more we expected him to carry up that long, steep and dusty trail. The neck and ever prominent ears were about all that could be seen when we formed the line of march and commenced the ascent from the valley of orange and lemon groves to the summit of Mt. Wilson, seven thousand feet above the sea, and covered with immense old pines and firs. There is originality among burros as well as among men. Raymond had a few decided characteristics of his own. His musical qualities were unparalleled. He seemed to recognize the acoustic properties of the mountains, and would choose just those canyons which would respond most eagerly and retain longest and most lovingly among their rocky sides the deep resonant bass. Nor was he illiberal with his music. Every echo seemed to him an encore. Again and again we stopped our ears with our fingers, or his with our fists, as a gentle reminder that, while we appreciated highly his efforts to entertain, we would be grateful for a moment or two to converse among ourselves. Mr. Danton was a man about forty years of age, medium height and rather slender. He had spent many years roughing it as a prospector and hunter, was lithe as a cat and absolutely fearless. Craig and I were old friends of Danton and had had some little experience in the mountains; so the year before this we had planned our trip. Our destination was the headwaters of the San Gabriel, some twenty-five miles back into the mountains, and a region almost inaccessible to man. This country abounded not only in game, but also in that precious yellow metal which drew so many thousands to the Pacific slopes a half century ago. Of game a 17