Hamden Hall Country Day School - Perennial Pine Yearbook (New Haven, CT)

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A FORTY-NINER Pa had gone to the court house to see what all the commotion was about and Ma was plenty worried because it was getting dark and he hadn't come home yet. All of a sudden the door burst open and there he stood. He was mighty excited, and there was a gleam in his eyes that hadn't been there before. California or bust, he shouted. After the noise which followed this announcement had quieted down, Pa told us that gold had been discovered at Sutter's Mill, and he was fixing to go out to California and try to find us a claim. We were all pretty surprised. Next day Pa went to the bank and drew out all his savings. Then he bought one of those covered wagons from Mr. Jones. In a couple of days, everything packed that we could carry, we started off to the West on the end of a long wagon train. My sisters, Jill and Mary, and I, were pretty much excited. We couldn't sit still for ten minutes. In and out the wagon and up and down the high seat we climbed, until Ma told us to stay put or we would go straight home. Camping out at night was scary' at hrst. We kept hearing strange noises. There was no room in the wagon for beds, so every night we made a shelter out under the trees and slept in it. Then we reached the desert. Seems as if everything went wrong then and there. There wasn't any water, and jill fell sick and nearly died. We passed many piles of furni- ture that folks had had to leave because they had made their wagons too heavy. We had to leave Ma's heavy pieces along the trail, too. Pa had to promise to buy new ones when we got out West, but I didn't think there would be any there. Occasionally we passed a small lonely grave or a heap of cattle bones. I was the only boy, thirteen, and I had a great deal of responsibility, especially the night when the Indians came. Pa handed me a rifle and told me to get busy shooting for we must defend the women and children who were huddled inside the circle of wagons. We fought for about three hours. Then the Indians gave up and rode away. We made the rest of the trip successfully. Pa staked his claim and having picked il good spot, he soon made enough money so that we could settle down and live comfortably for a while. We've got a small farm and I hope we shall live happily on it here in Cali- fornia as long as we live. When I grow up, I'm going to go prospecting for gold and live the great excitement all over again. Phyllis Beck Form I forty-nine

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MONUMENTUM AERE PERENNIUS I have completed a monument more lasting than brass And loftier than the regal structure of the Pyramids, Which neither the corroding shower, nor the tempestuous north-wind, Or the countless succession of years and the flight of seasons shall be able to destroy I shall not wholly die! and a great part of me Shall escape Libitinag I, ever young, Shall grow in praises of posterity, As long as the priest shall climb the Capitol with the silent priestess. And where the violent Aufidus roars, and where Daunus, Barren in water, rules over a rustic population I. powerful from a low degree, shall be spoken of As having been the first to compose in Greek measures Latin verse, Melpomene, assume the pride acquired by thy merits, And favorably wreathe my locks with Delphian laurel. Translated from CHotace Odes, 3, 305 Joyce Slater Form VI IMMORTALIA NE SPERES The snows have fled, and once again returns the grass unto the plain, And to the trees come leaves- The earth renews her life, and freshets now diminished Flow peacefully between the banks. An unclad Grace dares to dance with her sister Nymphs twain, The year and the hour that steal away the happy day warn Not to hope for immortality. The cold is banished by the West Wind Spring will yield to summer, destined to perish as soon as Fruit-bearing Autumn shall pour forth its bounty, and presently Slow-footed winter will return. And yet the newly recurring moons regain their heavenly losses. When we have fallen where already have fallen Aeneas and the rich Tullus and Ancus, Who knows how many tomorrows the gods above will add To the sum of yesterdays? But all that you have given to your own soul will escape The hands of an avaricious heir. When once you have fallen, and Minos his august decrees has made. No, Torquatus, neither family, nor eloquence, nor righteousness shall bring you back. For Diana could not free the chaste Hippolytus from the shadows of the dead, Nor was Theseus strong enough to break away the Lethean bonds from his dear Pirithous. CHorace, Odes 14, 75 Thomas Roche Form VI forty-eighl

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A FANTASY All winter the dark. foreboding winds had howled and swirled in and out of the little hills and valleys. The sun was rarely seen, for when it tried to show its face, it was quickly covered over by grey clouds. So much snow had fallen that one couldn't distinguish the earth from the heavens, and terrifying shadows crawled behind every turn as night stole on. The trees resembled spiders' webs with all their branches covered with the glistening flakes. On one of those cold nights one might catch a glimpse of a sturdy little house perched on top of a hill, with a beckoning light shining brightly in one of its windows, and as one's eyes followed it and peeked in the window, a cheery fire would be seen burning in the grate. The room was a cozy one containing handsome old furniture, and a bright skin rug lay on the polished oak floor. Silver platters were displayed in the cupboard and a towering old grandfather clock ticked heartily in the corner. Sur risin 1 the rooms never seemed to ather dust or dirt or need aintin ' ever - 8, Y thing was always neat and pretty. ' Reading by the fireside sat an old lady with a very young and beautiful appearance about her. She had soft, blue eyes and wonderfully brown, wavy hair. Her skin was like a lily. No, all those long years of seclusion had not marred her beauty nor the beauty of her little house. Soon winter was over and Spring appeared and left and Summer came. With it came the flowers, the birds, the bees and the pleasant singing of the crickets. Once again the hills and valleys were alive after their long sleep. The mistress sat outside in her garden watching all the little animals and insects and often went down to the brook to watch the minnows and the frogs. Every day some of the village folk came up to chat with her and bring her good things to eat. How beautiful and good life is and how wonderful it is to live, she would think to herself, never stopping to question how other people lived, believing that they led good, happy lives like hers. One day no visitors came to see her. Towards evening a small boy raced up the hill, thrust her a newspaper and ran down again. The mistress, since this was the first newspaper she had read for a long time, walked slowly into the house, opening it as she went. Gradually the meaning of those three cold, black letters that stood out so clerly on the front page came back to her. They read W A R . Suddenly she realized the truth about other people. Way down in the cellar was heard a deep rumbling and a crash as the little house collapsed. Then all was still. Berit Ore Form II My