Elsinore Union High School - El Lago Yearbook (Wildomar, CA)

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Eh: ililninnrun Eliarmrr llnnrn aah thv Zlinrh Farmer Jones and his wife lived on a small farm in Kentucky. Farmer Jones was tall and gawky with an Uncle Sam beard. He usually wore blue overalls and blue shirt, with a red bandana around his neck. Let me add, too, that his shoes were unusual- ly large. Of course his feet were not! His wife, Mandy, was short and fat and worshipped her husband. She also knew how to cook good things to eat. Perhaps that is why Farmer Jones mar- ried her. Farmer Jones' farm was a neat little place and they had many chickens. One evening, as they were eating their supper, Mandy read a letter to her husband from their son in college. Now listen here. paw, she said, is a letter from Frank. Dear folks :- Will have vacation soon. About two weeks I think. I am coming home and am bringing the Ford with me. Hope you are as well as I am. Your loving son, Frank. Now what in the world do you sup- po-se he is bringing a ford for? Why there is one down at the end of the creek and he couldn't bring a ford with him. He needn't think he's as bright as all that. Q Aw. 'gwan. Mandy. it's a nickname Them thar for wife. I'll bet yer life. college fellers git all kinds of new fan- gled names for every dog-gone thing thar is. replied Farmer Jones, crossing his knees in a dignified manner. Man- dy gave in meekly as she always did. and' began to think whether she would give the Ford a rolling-pin or some flat-irons for a wedding present. Much preparation went on in the little farm-house the next week. Mandy cooked pies, cakes, puddings and brought up things from the cellar such as jams, jellies, nuts and apples. If you had been around on a certain Mon- day night, you would have seen Farmer Jones chasing all over the chicken yard for a certain fat hen, and once he stumbled over the chicken feed trough. He let fly some words that make men feel good. He limped a trifle for he had bumped his shin, Right whar it hurt too. ' Tuesday morning found both up and preparing for the home-comers. About eleven o'clock, Mandy put on her best dress and Farmer Jones put on his black suit that had been in style twelve years ago. The socks showed between his trousers and the top of his shoes, and his shirt 'sleeves showed at the hand. While Mandy was putting the finish- ing touches to the table, Farmer Jones called out from the bed-room, Mandy whar in the 'Sam Hill' did ya put that thar stick pin with the yaller stone in it at? Right in the box in the left-hand side of the top dresser drawer, under- neath a pile of ribbons, Mandy an- swered, going on with her work. Wall why in the dickens don't ya tell me whar it is? he replied, getting cross. She came and found it for him. About twelve o'clock a rattling noise was heard outside. Mandy and Farmer Jones rushed out and what did they see but Frank, in a wagin with no ho's to it. Frank laughed inwardly at the look on their faces, then greeted them as a boy would who hadn't seen ma and dad for a long time. Wall you fool kid, why didn't ya bring the ho's, too? It ain't downhill all the way back and that thing won't go uphill with no ho's to it, hollereds Far- mer Jones, going around the Ford and looking at it. All of the sudden was heard from Mandy, but where is your wife? 'the Ford' as you called it. Why, I declare, you two got fooled this time. You thought this Ford of mine was a wife, eh? Haw, haw, said Frank, nearly doubling up with laugh- ter. He told them to get in and go for a joy-ride, but this is what he received in reply: Nope, you're not goin' to git me in

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The Elninnrun followed in your sinful mother's foot- steps! She, who because she was ruled by her heart, disobeyed the will of Fa- ther Antonio, met death by her own do- ing! Now, you, too, shall meet the same death. Tomorrow evening you will be burned, here! Do you hear me, you sinful daughter? She turning away covered her face with her hands. Trabuco moved to- ward her. Stand back, young man! cried the priest. Tomorrow evening you will be- come a mountain. Through all the ages you will lie south of that lake yonder! Still. even now a white cloud hovers over the great figure of the sleeping giant, who was Trabuco, the Indian boy. It is exactly the same kind of a cloud as appeared when the girl was burned. If you look closely, very closely, you can sometimes see a pair of large dark eyes. They are not sad any more, for frowning Father Antonio has no power to keep her from Trabuco any longer. LA VERNE PEARSON-'20. illlnrning nn links Elainnrr The water lies so calm and still, The sun is shining o'er the hill, The lake appears as tho at rest. The mountain views its lofty crest Reflected in the glassy deep, And seems to smile at its rugged steep. And then from yonder tree is heard A titter from an awak'ning bird. Then out upon the breeze doth float A song of many a different note From other songsters now awake, Each bidding good morning to his mate. Then other noises catch the ear- The splashing of oars from a boat quite near, Or the echo of some tinkling bells Re-sounding from the herds in the distant dells. This beautiful picture with the morning's ray Assures the pleasure of a perfect day. And how thrilling to view it from the shore, In mornings on Lake Elsinore! CLARA SLOSSON. '19, p Easing QD11 the 611811 Goat is the future perfect tense of kid. There are two main varieties of goats. One kind is the native of the barnyard and i-s useful chiefly for dairy products and for eating old tin cans, shoes and stockings, old or new, and various other things found around the average home. The other is found chiefly in the fresh- man class and is useful to tease and tell jokes about. One of the chief differences between these kinds is the fact that the barn- yard goat amuses himself at the expense of others, while the freshman variety amuses others at its own expense. Also the barnyard goat after said amusement gleefully says: Mah-eh-eh-eh- , while the freshman goat dolefully says: Ma-a-a-a-ama-a-a. JOHN PETERS-'22.

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111511: iilainnruu --1 that thar new fangled wagin. No siree, came from Farmer Jones, in a decided tone of voice, and this from Mandy: Oh, I would be plumb sceered to death it would get to going down-hill too fast Uhr Hirw Ilirnm And it came to pass that such a won- derful place existed-such as one often dreams about, tho time, weary time and yet not weary time rolls by, and still it is here. What? Where is it? Did I hear some one ask? Here it is and has been forever and shall be for ever when we are no more. Listen or rather look and yonder you shall see huge mountains, tufted high on whose barren brea-st the floating clouds do often rest. These mountains, which are cov- ered with hazel copses green, burst forth into sudden view at the first glimpse of morn, and hover above us all day long as if to protect us from some foe who wanders on the other side-but then at night these protect- ing mountains mysteriously disappear, all but a di-m outline. But most wonderful and grand of all is the beautiful clear blue water which spreads its wings at the feet of these baffling mountains. This clear and there isn't room enough anyway. Frank had a fine story to tell to the boys at college when he got back in his iFord, and laugh, I should say they did! EDITH KEITH. '21. the High Svrhnnl enchanting water is not only a lake but something in disguise which every morning as we ascend the hill, bids us good morrow differently than it did the morning before. During the day it will change and be calm or bright, peaceful, rough, serene, wild. tossing little waves against the pebbled shore- as if it was a child who had changed her dress and in joy was dancing and tossing her curls. And then as we have the lake and mountains to look about, we see trees- tall trees which nod and beck and stand perfectly erect as if they were some statue. All this we have for us each day. Dull would be the -soul who could pass by a sight so touching in majesty as this city, the beauty of the morning, then the rising sun beams fall- ing upon fields and orchards of fresh ripe fruit. Never did sun more beau- tifully shine on valley, rock and hill. MARTHA McSWAIN '19, . SENIORS Of all the classes in the school We seniors take the lead. We've done the work, and never shirked Nor lacked we in our trying. We've won a Rep, with lots of pep, Which still remains undying. We do not care and never dare, To spend a moment sighing. Our little band will always stand Our loyalty decrying. CLARA SLOSSON-'19.