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

Page 33 text:

HOW THEY CELEBRATED Haw you aver seen and eaten real good juicy tilings? You may think you have, but, if you did not live forty years ago, you never have. In those days, real banquets were seen in Cloverdale. Does this bring to your mind anything your grandmothers have told you? If it does will you. go back with me to their time? This particular banquet was an occasion of great rejoicing, since it was held in honor of the new school building which was the pride of all the citizens. Everyone from far and near knew of the grand cele¬ bration that was to be held and excitedly planned for a good time. Mothers were found bakin ; delicious pies and cakes, while older sisters took care of the babies without the usual objection. All is reach’. It is the day set for the celebration. There is the little farmhouse of four rooms. Go with me into the kitchen. At one side is a table. Beside this is a bench on which rests a clothes basket. Mother is seen busily working over the table, sister is carrying some¬ thing from the pantry. She sets it on the table and turns. What can it be? We were behind her and could see only the rim of the platter. BEHOLD! A golden brown, thirty pound turkey. Could yon ever see a more delicious bird? Mother packs this in the Very bottom of the bas¬ ket, and next, big mincec, pumpkin, lemon and apple pies are seen de¬ scending. She now fits in jars of choice pickles and olives with her best jams and jellies. Two boards are then put across the basket so none of the delicious goodies will be mashed and spoiled. Four big layer cakes are next put in. One has a caramel frosting; another, orange; another is pink and white, while still another has pure thick whiped cream. Smaller articles, such as apples and nuts, fill up the crevices. In the center, packed closely, are grandmothers choice mince¬ meat cookies. And please remember that every mother brought just such a basket as this, with only a little variation in the selection of good things. The long looked for day dawns bright and clear. Everything is life and commotion. The roads in every direction are lined with v’agons and buggies. Merry laughing people fill the seats and large clothes baskets peep out from under their canvas cover. “Why the clothes basket?”, you will ask. Yon must remember that, in those days, fancy, up to date lunch cases were not seen and everyone always was so liberal that even the big basket was scarcely large enough. It is evening at last. The school building is packed, while many

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THE OLD DAYS The old days, the old ways, are calling me, They beckon me, I seem to see— The glad times and sad times of youth again And fondly wish the ‘■‘now ’ we»e “then.” Chorus Sad thoughts stealing as dims the sunset’s glowing; Sets wistful mem’ries flowing Of the days no more. I know those scenes can not come back, as Time ne’er turns upon bis track, I’m seeing visions, visions, of the days that were. Oh why do T call those days gone by— That so did fly, and for them sigh ? The sun shines at all times, for every one, And looking backward spoils the fun I Chorus Glad dreams, sad dreams, of youthful times no more. Of days that soon were o’er, And can not come again. For “now” has .joys “then” never had, so life, it Isn’t half so bad. And hearts are joyous, joyous, as they ' ve ever beenf —Mabel

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stray around the yard. Up stairs two fiddles can be beard and the schuffle of feet tells us there is dancing. We see the floor filled with merrymakers. What do you suppose they dance? Quadrills, Virginia Reel, French Four, Mazurka and Visuviana, swung off to the tune of Arkansas Traveler, Irish Washerwoman and Marching Through Georgia. See the happy faces as all step blithly through the figures that are tailed. Yonder is the “Belle of the Ball.” You can’t guess what her dress is made of. Women look on her with envy. The cloth, the very I est that can be bought, is thirty-five cent calico. The waist is made tivhtly fitting, the sleeves are immense puffs, the skirt is tight at the waist and small, while at the bottom it descends large and full with many rows of hoops inside. There is a lull. Supper is announced. Everyone rushes for the door and gayly shoves and pushes with the rest. What a surprise? As the tables are seen, many stop to look with wonder. Who would want a more gorgeous sight than these appitizing dishes! In the very center, is a pig, roasted a eolden brown, with a pretty shiny red apple in its mouth. Around this are turkeys, chickens, pies, cakes, cookies, pud¬ dings, jams, jellies, pickles, and many other delicious things. When everyone is seated larsre cups of steaming coffee are passed around. While all those who can find room are enjoying the feast, those who must wait continue to dance. Now they whirl in and out and around, merrily laughing as they change partners, gliding, balancing with the music which races on with greater and greater speed until it stops suddenly, for the fiddlers are completely exhausted. Beads of perspiration stand on their brows. How happy they are that it is their turn to come down to the feast to refresh and revive themselves. An amateur takes up the fiddle and a number of those who were lately at the table have, with some effort, ascended the stairs so that the dance floor does not stand idle. After a time the master musicians return and gayety reigns su¬ preme for several hours. Then a rooster’s crow is heard. Why do the dancers rush for the windows? It is dawn. The fiddles are placed in their cases. Reluctantly, even at this hour, all realize that the party is over. After many good-byes, the people, tingling with pride over the new school building, find tbeir way once more to their peaceful homes, some to snatch a little rest, others to begin at once the labor of another day. —B. M.