Eugene High School - Eugenean Yearbook (Eugene, OR)

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.l F1 3.5, I -5? 1- v1:1ff,.l'-U 'gif-'F ', w' a ' 1 it-.' . 5,.Q,,'?k' f , L2-11: 1 gf .. f 3. .' ' ' . 'M H r .ini ' I A K . r : H ,Lb 'pl A Aj- . V f 9 1 ef 1. ii :fe 'H .-gf' - '- I HQCIZU, ,ii . . ig p . ! , , . -., .5 .. ...H Ni. . 1 ggg OlCg017f SCdl?lll'C'Cl1 near the Gap, an' the wind howld, for all the wurld as if in mortal agony an' the litenin' kep cuttin' an' rippin' the thick blackness any the tund- her kep rowlin' an' crashin' around any around as if the wurld was fallin' to pieces. an' in the midsht uv all the commoshun, what shud Paddy do but run full tilt against the divil. who sames to be around an' all kinds uv wether, an, shure he was a big harey divil, too, with the cushtomary any usual pair o' horns a shtickin' out uv his forrid. XYell. now, sor, altho Paddy used to get drunk sunitoimes, an' conthrive an occashun to make hissef ginirally an' particularly foolish, no one coward, an' he grabed howld o' the divil be the chin whishkers wid wan hand wid the ither an' flopped the divil an the broad av his back an' thin they had id hammer an' tongs, around an' about, firsht wan an top. thin the ither, Paddy gruntin' all the toime from his sthrenious egsershuns, an' the divil do- in' his purtiest to dhrive his horns into the pit o' Paddy's stummick, an' thin' all to wanst the stringth o' Fion-Ma-Cool samed to come to Pad- dy, who always claimed to be a near distant re- lashun to the brave ould Irish hayro, an' he lifted the divil clear aff his hoofs an' dashed him wid such foorce on the ground that the mountin farely shuck, an' wid wan faint, disparen groan the divil sthretched hissef out comfortably an dide. XYell, nexht day 'twis a sorry figger that Pad- dy med whin he wint to see Father Mahon. his face all battherd, an' his cloze hangin' in sthrings from him. He edged gingerly around an' about. afrade av a lick o' the blackthorn in his Riv- rince's grip, but bethune shkip an' shtart an' bawk he towld how the divil was lyin' shtark an' shtiff ded at the Gap. an' that he kilt him. The Father had a sick call to attind to that day beyant the Gap, an' he towld Paddy to get into the gig wid him an'. to show him where the divil was, an' shure enuff, whin they kem to the Gap. prisintly they saw a harey thin' wid horns lyin' in the middle av the road. Paddy picked up his spade. and was going away. when I asked him what it was. or if he be- lieved it was the divil. f'Shure. sor. it was noth- in' more nor less than Tom Flaherty's ould buck goat. an' shure the ould scut tscoutj wasu't ded at all, onnly jist kilt an' all tangled up in his spanshilf' fhobblesj. I went into the house and saw my wife sit- ting by the window. Hush said she. She was listening. I went near her. and through the quiet rg L summer air came, in a voice rich and sweet: cud say he was a an' a back howld f'Princely O'Nale to our aid is advancin' XVid many a Chieftain an' warrior clan, Five hundherd proud steezls in his vanguard are prancin 'Nathe the bordherers brave from the banks o' the Banu. Many a heart shall quail, undher its coat o' mail, Dapely the ruthless foeman shall rue XVhin on his ears shall ring, borne on the breezes' wing, Tyrconnell's dread war cry, 'CJ'D1mnell .-Xlmuf' THE SONG THE HAIRPSTERS SANG Two children, Arthur and his sister Hellas. Once started on a journey long, to find Out freedom in a far and distant land. They rode upon a ram with Golden Fleece, Although the worth of it would please a king. And thus they fled for many days and nights, Between the deep blue sky and earth so dark, XVith lover waging war. But ere the land To both, so blessed, was reached, a thing both ill And sad had come to pass: for while in flight Above the great and mighty waters of earth, The little maiden, Hellas. looking back, Fell downward into the sea and met her doom. And thus for her the Hellspont was named. Her brother, tho, with deepest sorrow, trav- eled, Until he reached that land where all was bright, And sorrows fade away, and then he took The fleece from the ram. and placed it on A tree g and over it, a dragon, meant To guard it from all harm. Nannie Donleyd Scoffislz Saying Some say kissin's ae sin, But I say, not at a'g For it's been in the warld Ever sin' there were twa. If it werena lawful,' Lawyers wadna' 'low itg If it werna haly, Meenisters wadnal doe itg If it werena modest, Maidens wadna' taste ity If it werena plenty, Puir folk couldna' hae it.

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+ ,1 I - Page Q' . f . . fa - i. XII: ,L Wi 1-171 iii --s 'Eiugeuc' S1'LfCc?1Z ' it Oregon I n r1s eg en . CEd. Note-This is a beautiful little legend of Ireland, told in the true Irish dialect by a really, truly Irishmanj. ICKEY, why is it that all the Irish believe in ghosts? 'fShure, now, sor, an' I don't know, an' come to think av it, it wud be quare in- dade, if the shtories that are tould by the big roarin' fire on cowld winther nights whin the naybors do be goin' coeur-deicht Qvisitingj did not lave some smatheriny o' their influence an those who herd-ach, mavroon, 'tis well I remim- ber whin I was a wee bit uv a gossoon in Clona- kilty. Oh, Misther Grey, that is the counthry ye should have seen. Back uv ye was the noble mountin of Shleive-Derg, it was not all kivered over wid threes like mountins here, but all the way up to the tip-top the herth Cheatherl nodded and waved at ye whin the wind wud be playin' hide-an'-seek wid id an' in the Spring when all the new blosums kem out to bid the wurld 4'Good- morro,'l-ah, shure, sor, it was nothin' else than acres an' acres, yis, moiles an' moiles av luvliness -the mornin' sunbames used to luv to dance there, an, 'twas milluns an' milluns o' dimons wud be made uv the dew-dhraps-thin the long gintle shlope ol rich green meddez. dotted here an' thare wid white-washed houses, wid the honey- suckles an' all kinds o' creepin', flowrin' plants crawlin' all over the thatchg an' on an' on ye let yere gaze thravle to the broad Atlantic-fishin' botes an' all kinds uv wather-craft dottin, the surfis-and' then away, away to that mishterious grey that kivered the dividin' line bthune wather an' shky-ye nivir cud tell whare wan ended an' the ither began-an' ye didn't care-thare are toimes whin ye don't care for anythin' only to just lok an' wandher, an' yere moind is so full o' things that ye can't think at all, at all-an' any- way, thare are lashins and loshins o' things that we'll nivir know anythiny about, an' 'tis a quesh- tin whither it is betther to know too little or too much. Y! XVell. shure. an' as I was sayin', the nay- bors wud all cum to wan house wan night. anither night to sum ither house to gosher, tell shtories. sing, sometimes dance, but ye may be shure a good toime uv sum kind was shure to be on, but hardly iver a night pasht unliss sum shtories of ghosts, fairies, or leprechaunes wud be tould. De yese wandher thin that the moids are more or less imprissed? Shure, ye know yerself, sor, that the firsht rudymints av knallidge are acquired by heerinl, an' whin the moid is young an' saft-like, what is herd sinks in, and, 'tis mitey hard to rub id out. Av course as the childher grow ouldher, an' begin to read, the ghosts an, fairies vanish, an, shtill the ould imprishuns are hard to get rid av, they are not entoirly ded, knallidge ye moight say put thim to shlape, an' they wake up sum- toimes. An' thin againi sor, the Irish are an im- aginative race, an' there lingers in mosht av us a wilful hankerin' afther the mishterious, an we'll chase afther what we sameto be moosht afrade av. An', well, now, I wish I had the elly- quince av Tim Farrell. Ever heerd av Tim? No. XVell. now, that's quare. ellvquince! XVhy, sor, it farely dhripped from him, he cuddint help id any more than the eaves av a house cud privint spillin' over when theirain dashes on the roof. W'ell, shure, I'm not Tim by any manner ol manes, but, sor, maybe yere tired o' this gibber- ish. No. Wfell, now, thatls nice o' ye, an' be the same tokin, I kem neer forgittin, what I nivir thought av. But did ye iver heer how Paddy Bryan kilt the divil? Shure, ,tis aften an' aften I heerd it tould, an' always wid sum varyashuns an' thrimmins, dipindin' av course an who was tellin' id. XVell, it was sumthin' like this. Paddy Bryan, God resht his sowl, poor boy, for shure 'tis long ago since they placed him benathe the daisies an' wild rose bushes in the auld church yard av Clanakelty. XVell, as I was sayin', poor Paddy used sumtoimes to take more av the cra- thur than he cud carry. -limmy Doolin used aft- en tell him heyd be shawing sinse if he made two thrips of id. Father Mahon made him take the plidge, limitin' him to wan dhrink a day, an, even so, held get tipsy, ye see the omodhaun ud sum- toimes ashk fur whiskey whin he wanted porther, an' that wasn't id aither. shure. ,twas whishkey he wanted all the time. Vtfell, wan day heshtarted across the mountins to the market uv Ballydoon. wid nothin' to sell, an' nothin' to buy-anythin' wid, oonly jusht to be doin'. but anyway he made the same ould mishtake. an' whin he shtarted for hoome he tuk the road for id, an' indade he naded all the road, bein, all overiid, middle an' both sides at wanst, id cumminsht to rain whin he was .,9,,-.2.. - im -' ' ' zvgxia, ,F . .

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Vi dai' ,-fs ,ta 'ff f,,g2Z:i P: ?. f': 2 f s, 5.1. .,,, 5 '15, ' . Page 4' L' ' K Zzzzgt ne . . ,Wing ., .... .. ,,,..i., - , f. 'I -1 ' ' ' gg Eighteen K Oregon 9 oets orner - Georgus Carolus. Georgius Carolus Geuillimus Stein. . Early and late Couldn't abate Studying studies too many to state. All that he studied, it went to his head, All that he held, Headward compelled, Diminished his legs while his cajnut it swelled Till one day, To his dismay He found that his body had vanished away. And thus he remained, So to speak, brained. His head having nothing beneath it sustained, Rolled to the floor, Out of the door, Away down the street and was seen nevermore. Here is a warning Clear as the morning, To the students who prudence and exercise scorning. To studies inclined, Like drunkards to wine, They'll depart in the same geometric design As Georgius Carollus Geuillimus Stein, QApologies to Minnesota 'fGopher. j Margaret Pratt. Mincemeat. Believing a little nonsense now and then Is relished by the best of men, I take my book and grab my pen And try to write to you again. I stood on the bridge at midnight, VVhen the clock was striking the hour, And-half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, Into the valley of death, rode- Yankee Doodle Dandy. , His old three-cornered hat And his breeches, and all of that, Are so queer. His nose is very thin, And it rests upon-the evening clouds, Like the last rose of summer Left standing alone, All its lovely companions Are faded and gone. O, why should the spirit of mortal be proud! Like-little Johnny Horner, Sat in a corner, Eating his Christmas pie, He put in his thumb -Xnd hauled out a-Greek Astronomer, Vilho said. 'll now propose to makeu- A man in the moon came down too soon, And inquired his way to Norwich. He went to the south and burned his mouth In eating-pickles without a fork- To him, who in the love of nature, Holds communion with her visible forms, She speaks a various language. Not far advanced was morning day, lVhen-Clangl Clangl the massive anvils rang, Like the shaking and the quaking of- Two little lnjuns sitting in the sun, One shriveled up, and then- There was a man of our town, ,Xnd he was wondrous wiseg He jumped into a bramble bush And scratched out both his eyes. And when he saw his eyes were out, XYitli all his might and main, lnle jumped-over the river lYhere the ransomed angels be. Lives of great men all remind us 'We can make our lives sublime, And departing leave behind us- Ham and eggs and other things- Life is short and time is fleeting ifXnd our hearts like muffled drums are beating Funeral marches to the grave. Let us then be up and doing XYith a heart for any fate, Still achieving, still pursuing. Learn to labor and to wait F. S. V r