Ferndale Union High School - Tomahawk Yearbook (Ferndale, CA)

Page 31 text:

A Qgenioris .Bament fQ0emJ Four years have We spent in this old Sehoolg We have done our best to obey the rules, But still they think us a bunch of fools. Ah me, Luek's Hard! We think we're clever so we pull some Wit. Do the faculty see it? Not a bit! We 've done our best, but we cau't make a hit. Ah me, Luck's Hard! In Study it's Be quiet you noisy gang, Emphasized with a book on the desk with a bang. All we did was Whisper when whang-- A Ah me, Luek's Hard! Now what have we done to be treated thus? Why are We always in for abuse? Why are We always so frightfully used? Ah me, Luek's Hard! C. A. '25 V A Page Twenty-n

Page 30 text:

'yfbraham fincoln, gentlemanv C655-ay! fPRIZE WINNER or THE LINCOLN EssAY CONTEST, Cgl' WAS on the eve of the greatest crisis in the history of our country. For more than three quarters of a century the Union had prevailed. Our Constitution had held the United States indissoluble through the trials of a youthful nation. But now we were on the brink of dissolution. A competent pilot was needed to guide the ship of state through the threatening rocks of disintegration. And, as had often before occurred in the history of man, when, on the eve of some grave crisis, the future of a nation or of all mankind was at stake, a great figure appeared to shape destiny at the critical moment. From the wilds of the frontier wilderness he came: unschooled, but Wise in the ways of men, rugged and unpretentious, yet beautiful in his homeliness. His clothes were illfitting, his voice was high and shrill, and his accents slow and burdened with deep thought. From a mean cabin on Nolin Creek came he whom Lowell called the first American, Abra- ham Lincoln. A satisfactory intimate description of Lincoln has never been written. None of his friends really understood the sad, lonely man. Some com- pared him to Socrates. But Leonard Swett gave a more vivid impres- sion when he said, No one who knew him ever knew another man like him. The keynote to Lincoln's character was gentleness. His very being radiated this quality and his every action verified and increased the con- viction implied by his bearing. As President he felt keenly the responsi- bility for every soldier slain on the battlefield and rarely was a pardon from the death sentence petitioned but it was granted. Although sensi- tive to the point of fault, neither prejudice nor taste for revenge partici- pated in his character. Edwin Stanton never lost an opportunity to ridi- cule the lanky apparition from Illinois, yet he was made Secretary of War by the subject of his scorn on the latter's ascension to the White House. Lincoln loved all mankind and the more widely he became known the more he was appreciated and loved by his fellow men. Even the stern old Stanton was moved at Lincoln's deathbed to murmur with tear filled eyes, Now he belongs to the ages. Such is the picture fof a great figure traced on a background of a great hour in the history of the world: firm, yet gentle, rugged but capa- ble of the finest of thought and expression, godlike, yet human in every detail, sad, but prone to lighthearted moods, he lived to serve his purpose at the critical moment in our history and died beloved by all the people, his name the more consecrated for the manner of his passing. GLEN RUSK. Page Twenty-eight

Page 32 text:

'24 Second Qsouth Sea qduoolev QNE mild evening in June, I was sitting by the Window idly flip- ping the pages of a magazine. This magazine was, The Amer- ican Boy. If I had kept that fact in mind, I might have been spared a great disappointment. Suddenly the pages of this celebrated monthly slipped open, and I found myself staring at these words: PRIZE CON- TEST. Immediately below these words were the following in smaller type: TELL WHAT YOU LIKE TO DO BEST. DO NOT BE MOD- EST! Instantly my mind went sailing away on the wings of imagination. Within two minutes I espied the letter before me containing the Prize which I had won by not being unduly modest. How should I spend this prize was the next question. I solved it in an instant. My mother, my sister, and I, should go on a trip to Hawaii-Hawaii, the land of my dreams. In my mind's eyeI saw the pearly beaches of Waikiki before me. In the distance I discerned the brilliant foliage and blossoms of the Ale garoba and Bougainvillea rioting in semitropical luxuriance. Still far- ther in the distance I seemed to see the cratered summit of Mt. Kilauea beckoning me on. Many colored fishes flashed through the warm sea, making it bright with their brilliant lives. Myriads of surf-riders gal- lantly topped the rolling waves. I seemed to see myself doing likewise. KI am always a great athlete in my dreams.D Suddenly I came down from these realms of fancy with a BANG. As I had idly glanced at the page before me, my eyes were held by these words: Cash prizes will be awarded as follows: First Prize 355. I have a natural resiliency which appears to resist all attempts to keep me gloomy. I soon reflected that five dollars will buy some things. But a few minutes before I had cavorted with fish of the tropical seas, now my mind revelled in thoughts of silks and laces. About this time it occurred to me, that perhaps I had better write that essay, which was to win the prize. I started to read the require' ments of this contest. They seemed simple, until my eyes fell on the last line in the page. Just one short line dashed my hopes from the highest heights to the lowest levels. Why didn't I remember that this magazine was the Amer- ican Boy? Once more I read the sentence to make sure. Yes, it truly said: This contest is open to BOYS ONLY. 14'- -3 Page Thirty