Elk Grove High School - Elk Yearbook (Elk Grove, CA)

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i g Lf THE ij,j1 'f5,j' ELIQ Y lb V 'l-N lg I cepted the feathered volunteer and took him to the front. The company was named the Eagle Regiment in honor of Old Abe who, in turn, was named in admiration for the man upon whom the hearts and minds of the people were centered. . Old Abe was duly sworn ing the red, white, and blue badge was placed about his neck, and on his breast a rosette of the same colors. This glorious creature enjoyed war and was in his element during a battle. His flashing eyes and wild excited screams gave the men of the Eagle Company new cour- age. Throughout the whole war he suffered but a few slight wounds and re- turned home to Madison hale and hearty. In 1880, at the soldier's reunion in Milwaukee, Old Abe made his last appearance before the public. He and Gen- eral Grant were the illustrious guests at this military festivity. Wlieii the band played, Old Abe uttered his battle scream, which consisted of five or six wild thrilling notes in quick succession. ln 1881, .just one year after his great day at the soldiers' reunion, a fire broke out in the NVisconsin State Capitol, where Old Abe spent his days. A1- though Abe gave his battle cry, the firemen were slow in reaching him, so slow, that by the time he was rescued, the smoke had seriously affected him, his breast heaved and his heart labored heavily. He survived, but thereafter ate sparingly and his eyes lost their lusterg his strength failed. Qld Abe had some characteristics which made him the most individual bird in history. He witnessed the saddest years in the history of the United States, when the union was wavering. Today, because of the above facts, Old Abe is known and revered throughout the world. Thus ended the story and we all slipped off to bed. -Jessie Cumpston, '2O. RIVALS IN LOVE Everybody in Ardmore, a small town in Texas near the Trinity River, knew of the rivalry between Calister and Biggles. And everybody enjoyed their little episodes. So far as Miss Alice Davison was concerned, they seemed to be running about so-so mostof the time, with an occasional head of advantage for Calister, and then again a sudden forge ahead for Biggles. The least concerned seemed to be llliss Davison herself. For she was something of a flirt and the belle of Ardmore. The rivalry between Calister and Biggles was not a mean affair. They were quite good friends, or at least had not come to blows, or to anything worse than angry words. Yet, they would not hesitate to resort to the most laughable tricks to defeat each other. It was an unanswered question in Ard- more what the rivals would think of next. The only deep feeling the inhabi- tants had, was the regret that if she married either of them, the zest of life would cease for the interested spectators. Matters were about even when one morning the town awoke to learn with horror and regret that Calister was drowned. He had had an engagement to take Miss Davidson sailing on the Trinity River in his small cat-boat. But Big- gles, with his usual unscrupulous cunning, cut some rope, told Miss Davison that the aforesaid boat was unsafe, and took her in a gasoline launch. Calister was angry, of course, but he went back to the boat-house, and got his fishing tackle and canoe to go fishing. He rowed a long distance down the river, fished a while, and was pulling away toward Ardmore again when a log got in the way of his canoe. The latter slid its nose up in the air and turned turtle, leaving poor Calister splashing in the water, so it happened that he reached the opposite shore from Ardmore, soaked and cold. Not a house was in sight Forty

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if Xxx - ffliiififi 3' - THE 5,1 ,gli ELK Q ii if there excited groups, sublimely happy that over four years of anxiety and suf- fering were at an end, gathered to discuss the event toward which they had all been working, hoping and praying, and from young and old, alike, one heard joyous shouts of, La guerre est finiel la guerre est l:llll6li,-Tl16 War is over! the VVar is over! Finie, la guerre lv In another moment a Vive la France l would be followed by, Vive l'Amerique ! Although the Armistice had been signed at live o'clock on the morning of November llth, hostilities did not cease at that hour, Some Divisions, in fact, actually went over the top after the signing, and the artillery kept up a con- tinuous firing. As eleven olclock approached, firing became more intense than ever. Even where we were-a number of kilometers away-the noise and din were well nigh deafening. More and more terrific became the cannonadingg it was hard to persuade oneself that this was the finale of the great conflict. One minute before eleven, and for thirty seconds such bedlam broke loose as to beggar description. Then there was a pronounced retard-the climax had been reached. Very rapidly gun after gun became silentg the firing became spas- modic. Five seconds before eleven, and only two or three guns barked their farewells, each desiring the final word and the distinction of having fired the last shot of the W'ar. Eleven o'clock, and all was still, oppressively so-the War was over! The little group, of which I formed one, who had witnessed the dying agonies of an old Order, remained silent, each one intent on his own thoughts. The silence was finally broken and Lieutenant Colonel Eastman translated the thoughts of all of us into words. Gentlemen, said he, slowly and impres- sively, this is the greatest day in the history of the worldf, -l-I. VV. Dahleen. OLD ABE Ah, he was a wonderful bird, that Old Abe, mused grandfather as he sat before the fire place on a cold winter evening. How he used to soar above us while a battle was on. We could see by the faraway look in grandad's eyes that he was a boy again, a boy who had even lied about his age, in order to fight that the Union might stand. Tell us about your experiences and the old eagle which you think so much off' I ventured quietly that I might not rouse him from his dream. Have you ever heard the story of how Old Abe became the mascot of the eighth Xllisconsin, a member of the Iron Brigade ? o, I answered, the children havenltg tell us about it. So he began in this way. Old Abe, the famous war eagle, was captured by Chief Sky during sugar- making time. l-lis birthplace was a tublike nest of mud and sticks in a tall pine. Chief Sky sold his precious possession for a bushel of corn. One day la veteran said in a speech of his, that I had the pleasure of hearing, 'And for this paltry sum was a noble bird sold from freedom to captivity, from barbarism to civilization: from the murmur of the pines to the crash of battlesg from obscurity to fame' Daniel McCann, the man who purchased Old Abe, carried him to Chip- pewa Falls, where a regiment was just recruiting for the First XVISCOHSIH Battery, he hoped to dispose of him there, but failed. The clouds of the Civil War were gathering heavily, and Nr. McCann found, as he entered Eau Claire, a company in formation. Here, Captain Perkins, of the company, ac- HN 'I'hirty-nine

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sud Y 2 X' T HE gi flN -I ELK Li: 'nb .X 155' it V t rllfx ' V f tus, but there was, however, a row of freight cars on a siding. I-Ie pulled his wet clothes off, put them over some rocks to dry, then crawled into an empty freight car to gain shelter from the wind. At last he grew sleepy, curled him- self in the corner of the car, and, unfortunately, went to sleep. VVhen he woke he found that it was growing dusk. A queer sensation came over him, and he rubbed his eyes, staring out of the car door. Instead of the Trinity River he saw an unfamiliar landscape of beautiful farming coun- try. Only one track was visible. Then the truth dawned upon him. VVhile he had been sleeping soundly, the empty cars had been hauled out to a country station to be loaded with farm produce. To make any attempt to picture the emotions of Calister would exhaust the English vocabulary. I-Ie was cold, he was hungry, and it was dark. SO, taking the last look around to be sure he could walk in the shadows, he struck out for the lonely little station up the track. But when he reached it he found that it was locked as tight as the United States Treasury. Hunting around he discovered four meal sacks: with the aid of some bailing wire, that he came upon in the side yard, he made for himself a suit of clothes. Witli his bare feet and arms sticking out of this absurd outfit, he made for a light glim- mering in the distance, trudging grimly along, gritting his teeth, his face nery red with rage. Soon he heard a bark, a growl, and a loud curse, and a man rushed past him out of a barn. A combat ensued between the dognand a tramp. The tramp had thrown his pipe in the loft just before he left, and in less time than it takes to tell it, the hay was on fire. Calister tried to extinguish the flames with his hands but to no avail. He heard shouts and saw two men run- ning toward him. To Calister's surprise and indignation two heavy hands gripped his shoulders. Ye blamed tramp l snarled the farmer. Calister tried to clear himself but he might as well have explained to a stone wall. They laughed and told him to tell that story to the police. When he heard the heavy door of the jail slam behind him he fumed with rage. He looked about trying to find a way to escape. It was useless. Morning came and with it his breakfast and the constable. VVhat did you say your name was ? asked the constable. My name, he said viciously, is James Biggles. I live at Ardmore, on the Trinity. Telegraph the postmaster. Calister thought he knew what he was doing. Biggles had an office in Austin, and left Ardmore usually on an early train. The telegram was sent. Postmaster, Ardmore: Tramp arrested here. Claims to be james Biggles of Ardmore. Hiram Hatches, Constable. And in due time the reply came back: Impossible blames Biggles hasn't been away from Ardmore and is with me now. Here you,', cried the constable when he returned to the lock-up. You lied. Read this! Calister read. The next afternoon Mr. james Biggles presented himself to Constable I-Iatches. I understand, sir, that you have a prisoner who claims to be James Biggles. Here is my card. I am James Biggles ! They walked to the door of the lock-up. The Constable threw it open. Biggles, cried Calister, rushing forward. Biggles froze. . This man has lied, he said to the constable. I-Ie is not James Biggles, for I am he. He is not Harry Calister for he was drowned in the Trinity three days ago. This fellow-I never saw before. Forty-one