Cleveland High School - Legend Yearbook (Portland, OR)

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Sixlffiil THE LED (; E R THAT ROMANTIC AGE i ' .VlI. ' S N liARMHTTI.OR In till- hrrakfast room nf a smart lulunial man sion in a smart suburb of Ricliley sat Mr. Dennis, a stout, portly man of middle ajje, who was quite prominent in the business world of Richley ; Mrs. Dennis, a lar e lady of the same af:e, who tried to be very prominent in Richley ' s social affairs, and their flapper daughter, Celeste, a rather pretty jjirl of about eighteen. Well, remarked Mrs. Dennis, as she looked through the neat stack of mail that was b her platCj bere is an announcement of the enjia ement of Miss Alice Travers to Mr. Walter La Verne. As she said this she mentalK checked off Mr. La Wrne from her list of promising youn men for Celeste. Mr. Dennis merely grunted, hut Celeste turned pale, choked on a morsel of food and abrupth left the room, as her mother finished speaking. She went to her own room, where she threw her- self dow ri on the bed. It was a pretty room, fur- nished in Kay colors. A thick soft ruj; lay on the floor, and softK shaded lights were placed about the room and thin silk curtains fluttered in the breeze of that lazy Indian summer morning. Why, what ' s the matter with Celeste? asked Mrs. Dennis. Don ' t know, mumbled Mr. Dennis from the depths of his newspaper. He did not seem greatly concerned about his flapper daughter. Just then the door bell rang and the butler admitted a slen- der grey-eyed girl of about Celeste ' s age. There was a tiny hidden laugh in her wide set grey eyes, and a distinct charm about her made her a general favorite with people. Mr. Dennis ' greeting to her was warm, more so than Mrs. Dennis ' , because she recognized the girl with her beauty and charming manners as a dangerous rival for Celeste. Good morning, Jean, he said, did you just get back fr4)m the beach? We ' ve been home for about a week. If ()U should like to see Celeste you will find her in her room. After talking a bile, Jean left the breakfast room and ran up a broad flight of stairs and knocked at the door of Celeste ' s room. On receiv- ing IK) answer, she opened tile door and said, gaily, Hello, Celeste! . The still form on the bed did not move, so she crossed the room and sat down on the wide luxurious bed. Why, Celeste, child, what on earth is the matter? Still no answer, but something that sounded suspiciously like a sob shook the girl. Jean then lifted the dark, tousled, curly lie.id and s.iid in a motherly tone, Here, child, dr (iur tears and tell old Jean all about it. That w ill make you feel much better. Oil, Jean — Jean, Roger is engaged to that — horrid Alice Travers! The iiidden laugh in Jean ' s eyes now became very e ident and slie found it very hard to keep the laughter out of her voice, but she succeeded to say in a svinpathetic, gra e tone: Roger — oh, you mean — Roger La Verne, whom ()u inet down at tile beach — Mrs. Dixon ' s nephew; the one who found and carried ()u down the mountain when you sprained your ankle, and sent you flowers and candy when you were ill ; who said you swam like a mermaid and danced like a fairy. ' es, Jean — oh, I ' m heartbroken! He was aw- fully handsome. He had the keenest eyes. Oh, Jean, I siinply adored him! Everyone did. I was sure he liked me. I can ' t understand how that little empty-headed simp of an Alice Travers ever captured him! Oh! oh! this world is a dreary blank for me. There is no other man in this world for me! With this she buried her face in Jean ' s arms. Jean smiled a knowing smile, for she knew Ce- leste rather well, and knew that these outbursts were not infrequent. Vhen she could control the merry laugiiter in lier voice, she said in a very tragic tone, Ob, wliat a cruel world! Listen, Celeste, Nou ' d better get in some decent clothes, liecause Hoii and TerrN are coining up for a set of tennis. What, Jean, not Terrx Delainl, that boy whose folks moved into the great new white iiouse on the hill? All tile girls are wild about him. Hurry, Jean, iielp me get into this new sport suit. Don ' t ()u think it is becoming? Hurr . Jean, if he ' s com- ing I must look nice.

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Ponce de Leon ' s Search for the Fountain of Youth (Prize Poem) Siegfried Rosen A poor patlietic man he was, All broken down and feeble bent, Whose mortal da s were almost o ' er, Whose death was cruelly inaminent. Rut yet he had the common fear To leave this irksome place of care, In favor of some doubtful world Of which he knew not what nor where. He heard of some strange Indian myth: That somewhere in the Land of Truth, Unknown to white man, there existed A Fount.iin of Eternal Youth. He had tlie true adventurer ' s spirit: His age, like scales, from off him fell. He rose, consumed with seething fire, To find — and thus elude Death ' s knell. He sailed about Bahama ' s Isles, He sailed New Florida around, He sailed about the ocean wide. He sailed past many a forest ground. l nwelcomed by restoring founts, L ' nwelcomed by a second youth. Unwelcomed by astoundedness, Met only with that ugly truth — Old age returning, evermore; Inexorably dragging each Limb down till such a time As clawing Death should soon him reach. Discouraged, he returned home, To perish on his native soil; But there he found a newer clue. And came again, to search and toil. He sailed about America, Searching carefully as he went; He sailed about the Indies West; No second youth to him was sent. As weary as a wilting flower That knows full well its end is near. He lay upon his couch and prayed The tinkling waters yet to hear. Ah I Ponce, a foolish man thou wert, To cry against harsh fate, alack! When He that gladh ' gave thee life But merelv asked thee for it back.

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r H E L E D a E R [Seventeen LOOKS ARE OFTEN DECEIVING ' iRi;i i V ' i (.iii;ll S;i ' , Slim, vlipte ,i ;;i iir? itskcil Freckles of his chum. To tlu ' (ilil mine. .iniia j;() loii;;? Sure, justa miiuitc. Soon the pair were on their way to the deserted coal mine — a place thc ' IkuI no ri lit to enter. But they were just boys and in search of advcTiture, at that. On their arrival the looked carefully around to see that they weren ' t watched; then, with a hur- ried scramble, they were inside. O-o-f! firoaned Freckles. Wiio ' ve I run into? Say, j;uy, lay off! It ' s me — Fred! Oh, 1 bejj your pardon — this respectful!) ' from Freckle?. He recognized the voice of the preacher ' s son, the toufihest kid in the xillage. Whatcha doin ' in here? This question simul- taneously from both. Just lookin ' ' round. Come along, answered Fred. The three scamps wandered around for about an hour, and didn ' t realize that they were lost until they tried to find the entrance. At first, they all put up a bold front — Freckles was the first to break down, then Slim. Fred was hard-boiled for about an hour, then sudden ' y startled his com- panions by dropping on his knees and praying — something like this : Oh, God, please let me get home! I — I — Fll never be bad any more. What ' ll my mama do? O-o-o-o-o-o, hut it ' s dark — pie for supper! Ah-h-h ! I wanna go home! What ' d I cvcr-r come here fur? Oh, please show us the way out! Fll not play hookey any more. My dad ' ll pray for me, too. God !— oh ! oh! oh! 1 wanna git outa here! Help! Help Help Help! He wa; finally hys- terica! — scared stiff — so to speak. During the course of this prayer. Freckles had wandered ahead about fifty feet. A triumphant ell startled the other two into running. Their pal had discovered the exit from tlie old mine. As soon as they were safely out and used to the strong light, Fred turned on his friends with clenched fists and his noted ' ' fighting mug on. Say, you two kids keep mum, he growled. If you ever dare tell anybody I got ' soft ' in that mine, I ' ll knock the daylights outa you! ) know 1 can. Now, shut up — remember! With this speech, he thrust his hands into his pockets and went whistling down the road, fol- lowed meekh ' by the dumfounded Freckles and Slim. To the Devastators Kennktu L. Coi.i.ixs Wiiy devastate the forests, The rivers, and the sky. Of their many little citizens? Wh ' trv to make them die? They were put here for a purpose, Just the same as you and I. Harm them not, ye devastators, We ' ll be lonely if they die.