Cleveland High School - Legend Yearbook (Portland, OR)

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LECSBER, CAREERS TO MEND OsA Lautner Prize Essay Dickens may liave had his slums iind Thureau his woodlands, hut 1 — I insist upon a double-walled room in the top story of the Woolworth building. Why? My reasons are manifold. Many are the time 1 have fjroaned, Oh, if 1 were only a Bee- thoven, or words to that effect. He was the fellow who could compose music with a bloody war ra int; in the street below. That was genius indeed. But when it comes to writing an English composition I find that genius was all right. Concentrate! they say. So one night 1 came home and concentrated. I concentrated from 3 ' til 6 for an idea to write about. Vigorously I washed dishes and determinedly I groped for an Idea — in vain? No sir, I got one. Well, I settled down to be another Booth Tarkington. I scrib- bled intently for about five minutes when — How do you spell magic? M-a-g-i-c, I muttered. Where was I? Oh yes. And the clock tick-tocked. Say, I remarked, don ' t you think that was a fine pep assembly we had today? It being a weighty question it was thoroughly discussed. The clock kept on ticking. Half an hour later I grasped m pencil with a make-a-touchdo M)-or-die air. What came next? Let me see — was that the right word? Oh dear, I must get some typing paper tomorrow. Pie Eater Takes Pie Baker ' s Offer. What ' s that! Isn ' t that queer? Still the clock tick-tocked. I regrasped my pencil. Ah ! The hero must prove his metal — he must — must — What should he do? I have it! He shall — President C(jolidge came to tlie metropolis to interpret the business side of — With an exclamation of despair I pushed my paper aside. Shucks. H. B. W. had enough com- petition. What was happening to Orphan Annie? The clock kept persistently on — tick, tock. Well, after everyone had gone to bed I finally finished m ' story. Nine hours to write three pages. Something had to be done. Therefore, my demand for an isolated habitation. I gazed at the clock and found that a forbidding twelve held full sway. A feeling of horror swept over me. It was after nine — curfew — and I was still out — out of bed. But the funny part was the clock didn ' t say a thing — it just kept on ticking. SERENADE Lucille Dodson Tenderly borne on the night wind ' s wings Gently and slow, gently and slow, Under the moon where the nightingale sings Softly and low. Swing on the tide in your ship of dreams. Capture a cloud for a sail and sweep Out in the blue where the star-foam creams And sleep, my precious one, sleep. Rock with the waves on a sea of dew. Gently and slow, gently and slow, Lost where the breath of the rose drifts through Softly and low. Down the lanes of the jeweled sky Scattering spray o ' er the dusky deep Glide with the winds where the dreamlands lie And sleep, my precious one, sleep. Paffe 22

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- BERBER. HERITAGE George Pohl Love of a vessel cleavint; The restless sea ; From my father and his father It came to me. The April sun had kissed the sea in the Vest, bathing those cold waters in a lurid, fused glow. Each tinted wave gleamed phosphorescent as it flowed toward the barren shores, coaxing wisps of seaweed that hung back, reluctantly, in its wake. Far, far away to the West and South lay the peaceful land of the Britons, nestling in its downy bed of heather, and Germany and Normandy clothed gloriously in their first spring lilies. Knute sat on an abondoned dory on the rocky coast and dreamed. The rising tide reached for that scarred and rotting veteran of the fishing grounds, but fell back chagrined. The dory was too completely imbedded in the sand to yield im- pulsively to the tide which had once ruthlessly tossed it about. Somewhere on that vast compelling waste roamed his father over the grave of his father in the be- loved schooner. Vixen. What strange lands and strange people he would see. He would sail into their ports and bring home their treasures but enmeshed closest to his father ' s heart lay that little village on the coast where even the moss beneath one ' s feet was nourished with fish-oil. Knute, too, loved that village on the rocky coast because there lived his mother and little Borghild. His boyhood days in the village brought remembrances that were most dear to his heart, ' et a memory of Roald, his childhood playmate, passed before him. That summer day on a raft, floating out to sea. Dark- ness — and the tide, that mocking, insatiable tide! And Roald never came back! An inward feeling of fear held him for the moment, but his place was on the Vixen. Knute would sail with his father this same spring. It had been promised him. His blood surged in restless anticipation. His soul, sea-born, longed for the wastes. Its infinite sweep and fearful depths Fear of the slow fog rolling In from the sea; From my mother and her mother. It came to me. — Borghild Lundherg Lee. intoxicated him and lured him, blindly. Each sea- carved shell echoed its grandeur to him. Then one day the Vixen lay anchored in the sheltered cove before the village, gracefully rising and sinking as the swells rolled rhythmically be- neath her keel. How strong and shapely, and de- fiant she looked and how neatly trimmed her canvas lay on the yards. On her bows were carved the proud name she bore. Soon he would tread her sacred decks; soon he would clamber in her shrouds and square her sails! The days burned down to nights ; and the nights gave birth to days that surpassed the loveliness of their mother. During those days Knute toiled ceaselessly to fit his father ' s ship for the summer voyage. There was much to be done. In those lands men had no leisure for idleness and dissipa- tion ; their women no time for shallow thoughts and petty pleasures. Children of the stern sea they were born and so they died, unafraid and confident. One night the Vixen slipped out with the tide. Knute labored in the days that followed, too dili- gently to surrender his few moments to idle memo- ries and vain regrets. Still at night in his rude bunk two pictures floated constantly in his mind. How clearly he recalled his mother ' s farewell and her lingering embrace. And little Borghild, his sweetheart, — her smiling reproof and caution, and that hurried stolen kiss were eternally burned and seared on his brain. How pretty she was that day in her blue, calico dress and square bonnet from which her flaxen hair crept to frame those eyes, deep blue as the midnight sky in the Scandinavian winter. The crew of the Vixen worked intermit- tently from dawn to sunset with the tangled nets, and ropes, and baited lines and barbarous hooks. All must be ready and the dories equipped properly. (Continued on Page 62) Page 21

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EERSER. The Adventures of Benjamin Handsome, Esquire Mary Grunen (This is a story of a boy — just an ordinary boy over whom a good fairy waved a magic wand whispering softly, Sleep, and in thy dreams become thy heart ' s desire. Lo! The boy has disappeared and in his place stands Captain Kidd, the terror of the seas. This is the adventures of Benjamin Handsome, Esquire, alias Captain Kidd.) Along the deck of the Pinta swaggered Captain Kidd. His eagle eyes eagerly scanned the seas for victims. The day so far had brought nothing, and the captain was in none too sweet a mood. Woe to the man who stumbled across his path. Ho mate! What is that yonder? Devil take the luck! As I live, a ship! But Captain, the ship is strong. It bears the flag of a powerful nation. Mayhap it ' s wiser to look elsewhere for victims? cautioned the mate. What? Has thy heart turned to water? Be- ware ! I have no use for cowards. To thy places, my hardies! Ten pieces of gold to the man who first boards the ship! But on the other ship the joy was not so great. Men, women, and children trembled. They realized what it meant to fall into the hands of the terror of the seas. They fought, they fought gallantly, but some force was against them. It seemed as if the very waters helped the pirates. Look! They are on the ship, someone screamed, and tumult and fright gripped even the hearts of the bravest. The day is ours, shouted the captain. Back, back my men ! Death to the man who harms anyone! Any man who dares disobey me will find this world too hot for him. Are we to be cheated of our gains? murmured the men rebelliously. Surely the sun has touched the head of our captain. He is mad! What! Dare you question my will? Be care- ful, ye dogs! Who knows, but that you may your- selves walk the plank. They slunk away for they knew what the cap- tain was capable of doing in one of his fine rages. The prisoners trembled. They feared that this queer softening of the heart brooded ill for them. I will harm none of you, he exclaimed mag- nanimously. Wait! I believe that is a school- master over there. Bring him forward instantly. 1 have no love for your kind, he shouted as the cringing man was dragged forward. Mercy, great captain, mercy! Silence him! I do not desire to hear the whim- perings of yon dog. Away with him! Put him in irons, he commanded as the man was dragged awa ' . Many a day the terror roamed the seas, and many a good ship likewise fell into his hands. But, strange to say, Benjamin Handsome, alias Captain Kidd, spared many victims. The civilized world was genuinely surprised. The terror was becoming a terror no more, and the seas, a pleasanter place to sail on. A famous man was he. Kings and princes trembled before him. His Majesty, King of England, pardoned this outlaw and bestowed upon him the title. Admiral of the Seas. Even the captain was quite puffed up with his own import- ance. Fate decreed it so. Of all fair damsels in distress whom should he rescue but Madeline, his sweet- heart. She knew him instantly, and throwing her arms about him, cried, How heroic you are! How wonderful, that, of all people, you should be my rescuer. Oh that is nothing. I am always glad to help a maiden, especially a pretty one. Otherwise, I am through with women. A man with my future cannot be disturbed by such creatures. Poor captain, he little knew with whom he was dealing. One glance and he was defeated. Well, one cannot blame him. Viser men than he have succumbed to the lures of the so-called weaker se.x. How could he, a mere man, resist her? Crash! The spell broke ! Benjamin awoke. He was stupefied. In the place of the maiden he hugged tightly a sour-faced schoolmaster and fer- ently was kissing his one bald spot. For the im- petuous demonstration of affection he received a whipping and for falling asleep, another one. Be- tween the two, Benjamin ' s back was mighty sore. Poor lad ! Alas for Fate ! How could she so have misplaced Benjamin? Page 23