Cloverdale Union High School - Spectator Yearbook (Cloverdale, CA)

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Well, in come another bunch of girls. I guess they was girls, with bright red shirts, havin’ big Ms embroidered on ’em. Pretty soon a whistle tooted and a man threw up the ball and they started pell-mell after it. I didn’t know nothin’ about it but everybody else seemed to think it was powerful excitin’ and kept clappin’ and screamin’ all the time. Little Annie flung the ball into one of them hoops once and the hoys cheered and yelled like mad, especially that Briggs hoy. Then one of the girls in the red shirts tried to toss it in and some rowdies tried to flustrate her and I guess they did ’cause she got all red and missed and one of them said, “good” so everyone could hear; but I was glad to see none of the Pligh School boys did that. All of a sudden the whistle blew and they stopped playin’ and went off but in about ten minutes here they were again and started off like that pair of colts of John William’s did when they heard the train whistle. Two of the girls on each side kept tryin’ to throw the hall in the hoops all the time and the others kept tryin’ to get ’em not to but they did it once in a while anyway, and I was jest beginnin’ to ketch on a little when the whistle blew again and I saw that man put his arm around Annie and lead her away, she a holdin’ one foot in her hand. “Land!” I thought to myself what if Mis’ Barton faints, and I began feelin’ for my smellin’ salts that I always carry in my little bag, when she says, “That’s Annies game ankle again. I hope it doesn’t stop the game long.” Well, I thought I wouldn’t worry if she didn’t. The girls, they all threw themselves down on the floor ’till Annie come a limpin’ back and they began again. “Three minutes more!” I heard some one say. Annie was a standin’ with the ball all ready to throw. “Six to six,” Mrs. Barton whispered, we’ve got to beat ’em!” Annie, she jest missed by a hair and the other side grabbed it up and sent it down to their end and began workin’ like fury. T was standin’ up by this time. They were jest sure of thro win’ it in when Sue Green caught it and give it a fling the 16

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Grandma Goes to the Game Well, well come in Mis’ Dawson. I was jest thinkin’ about you and wonderin’ if you’d heard about what the High School girls are doin’ these days. Seems like us old ladies livin’ right here in Sunnyville all these years don’t know nothin’ about what’s goin’ on any more’n if we was residin’ on Halley’s Comet. That reminds me, I’ve been readin’ where they say the comet, but that aint what I started to tell you. Night before last—that’s Friday—I know it was because I always wind the clock Friday night and I was up on the chair doin’ it when in come Millie and nearly knocked me off and says, “Grandma, you must go to the game tonight!” “What game?” I says. “Basket ball,” she says. “Our high school girls are goin’ to play the Mil lburg girls. Won’t you come with me? I’m tryin’ to get Ma to let me play and if you see the game and coax her maybe she’ll let me.” So I says, “Well, Millie, I ain’t much for that kind o’ do- ins’ but I’ll go to please you, I guess.” Well Mis’ Dawson, you should o’ been there. We sat up in the gallery and I waited expectin’ to see the young ladies march in all in their pretty fresh lawns, with sashes and little bats tied with ribbons when in come rompin’ 6 or 7 girls in Hi pm sweaters the hnvs wear and bloomers of dark blue stuff without even a skirt over ’em. I saw Annie Barton right away and I thought to myself, “Poor Mis’ Barton, how will she feel?” She was sittin’ right by me and do you know she jest looked down and waved at Annie and smiled and said to me, “What a fine color that peaked girl o’ mine’s gettin. She says she feels fine when she gets them easy, loose things on and romps around with the ball and the other girls.” 15

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whole length of the room and there was Annie all ready for it. Quick as lightning she fired it in and I was screamin’ and yellin ’ “ 8 to 6, 8 to 6! Hooray for our girls! ’ ’ Mrs. Barton was poundin’ my back and Millie was haulin’ at my coat and screamin, ‘ Aint it great? Let’s go and see the girls.” I says “You run on. I’m goin’ to see your mother.” Sonnet (The Poppy Didactic) A golden poppy bloomed one summer day. Its face uplifted to the bright blue sky, With heaven’s radiance it seemed to vie. It tilled me with a feeling of dismay. I longed to be a poppy bright and gay That I might ne’er have cause to grieve or sigh, And be contented as the days passed by-— Without a single care through all life’s way. But while I looked the poppy seemed to fade. The breezes blew its petals to the ground And there it stood with all its beauty gone. I was content to be as I was made, The value of my life at length I’d found; My happiness had only reached its dawn. H. F. B., ’10. 17