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

Page 30 text:

28 THE SPECTATOR itrk 0 YE MOTHER,” sang out little red-haired, freckled-faced Dick O’Neil, as lie boarded the train together with a crowd of other boys, after being nearly hugged to death by his little sister and his mother. Dick had been raised in the tenement district of New York and since a wee child had con¬ tributed to the support of the family by selling newspapers. His mother worked in a shirtwaist factory; her work was hard and the wages low. What little she made barely afforded them a scanty living. His father, when living, had been a shoe-maker, and though he did not make much, the family managed to live quite comfortably. He, however, died when Dick and the other children were quite small, and therefore left the family in great need. A kind old gentleman, Mr. Smith, had taken a fancy to Dick and a few other newsboys. He had offered to take them to Cali¬ fornia and secure them jobs on farms. Dick’s mother had con¬ sented, after learning that with plenty of fresh air and good food, Dick would become a strong, healthy boy, and would be able to support her in her old age. As the train neared it’s destination, five days after Dick had boarded it, Mr. Smith called his group of boys together and ex¬ plained that California was a great deal different from New York; he reminded the boys that they were going to work for people who expected them to be honest and upright in every way. When the train stopped at Cl overdale, a man in a two-horse wagon was waiting for Dick. After bidding his friends farewell and thanking Mr. Smith for his kindness, Dick climbed to the seat beside Mr. Brown and was soon on his way to his future home. After winding six or seven miles in the mountains they reached a large, white farm-house wdtli many out buildings. In the rear and to the right were forests of large trees which gave the house a snug appearance. To the left was a small lake sur¬ rounded by many flowering shrubs and ferns. All this Dick took in with a bewildered glance. He longed to climb down from the wagon and run into the forest, to plunge into the lake with the ducks, and to chase butterflies and pick the beautiful flowers growing in profusion. Mr. Brown drove up to the side door and helped Dick down from the wagon. He summoned a maid and told her to show Dick his room. Dick followed her up the long flight of stairs down the

Page 29 text:

THE SPECTATOR 27 WtUp tit? Emu JIatM mt tit? Euuf T is an old garret with big brown rafters; the boards between are stained with rain storms of twenty years. And as the April shower quickened its flood it seemed as if its torrents would come dashing through the shingles upon me and my play. It seemed a grand old place, and it was all great fun—the heavy rafters, the dashing rain, the piles of spare mattresses to lie upon. There is great fun in going through a tall barrel of books on the lookout for startling pictures. There are also apples in the garret—apples that are drying. And when I discovered them, I put a few in my pocket and ate them quietly. But I got tired of this, even of the swing. Suddenly I noticed a copy of Robinson Crusoe. I started to read it, and all at once I was trembling for the poor fellow with his guns behind the palisade. I was nearly dead with fright, yet I thought the old fellow must have had a capital time with a whole island to himself. I thought what a fine thing it would be for me to slip away some pleasant morning; and how, if they knew I were going, there would be such a world of good-byes; and how, if they did not know it, there would be such a world of wonder. And the sailor’s dress would be great. It would all be such rare sport. A sailor’s life on the blue and tumbling sea!—as you have often seen in pictures. I would have better luck than even Crusoe; I would save a compass and stores of hatchets and the captain’s dog, and great barrels of sweetmeats, all of which Crusoe completely overlooked. I would have a tent or two, which I could set up on the shore, and an American flag, and a small cannon, which I could fire as often as I liked. At night I would sleep in a tree, and would wonder how Crusoe did it; I would say the prayers that I had been taught to say at home and then would fall asleep. At sunrise I would come down, feeling very much refreshed, and would make a very nice breakfast of smoked herring and sea-bread with a little currant jam and a few oranges. After a long while, I fancy a ship would arrive, which would carry me back to my father and mother. Then would we have a great deal of pleasant talk about the island far away in the South Seas. Thus, in my quiet garret corner, with my head upon my hand, did my thoughts stroll away from the book into my own dreamy cruise over the sea. D. B. T7.

Page 31 text:

THE SPECTATOR 29 hall to a small, though snugly furnished bedroom. He looked around in wonder at the snow-white bed and curtains. Dick was then told to follow the maid to the dining room. He stood in the doorway until Mrs. Brown came toward him and led him to a chair beside her at the table. At her left sat little Grace, their only child. She was a small child with large, blue eyes, rosy cheeks and curly blown hair. Mr. Brown spoke kindly to Dick and told him that this was to be liis home, and that he and Mrs. Brown would try to be a father and mother to him. These kind words put Dick at his ease, and he was soon eating a hearty dinner, in spite of the homesick feeling that stole over him now and then. After dinner Dick was told that he would be allowed to do whatever he pleased for a week or so, until he grew stronger. He could go wherever he chose as long as he stayed within sight of the house. In the days that followed, Dick went from place to place. He was so deeply interested in everything pertaining to Mother Nature! He learned to know all the birds and trees, and often wished that his pals at home could share his joy—this living so close to Nature. His cheeks were becoming pink! Happvland was to be his salvation! Soon New York and its miseries seemed a thing of the past, but his mother, sister, and brother were ever before him—a sacred memory. He was ever planning what he would do for them when he became big and strong. Eight years have passed. Dick has grown to be a tall, manly lad of twenty. Mr. Brown has made Dick assistant manager of the farm. Dick has saved his earnings and has purchased a small farm adjoining Mr. Brown’s where live his mother and brother. His sister had died two years after Dick left for the “Happy- land.” Grace has grown to be a tall, beautiful girl of eighteen; and her friendship and Dick’s has ripened into love. Often Dick wanders into the woods and among the flowers and trees that he has learned to love so, to reflect upon the time when as a poor, frail lad he first beheld the wonders of Clover- dale, his “Happvland.” M. E. D., ’17.