Junction City High School - Junco Ed Yearbook (Junction City, OR)

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Nearly four years he had battled successfully with every ob- stacle that had come within his reach. From nothing he had become the star of his class, the pride of his school, and a miodel man. Suc- cess was his-and proud world you can not rob him. He was tussling, tumbling, shifting the castles of ambition within his mind. He would soon be a graduate and must choose his life work, and toward that end dir-ect his college course. He thought of the chances of a man, as a young man sees them; how difficult it is to accumulate wealth. But wealth was but a small part of his desires. He wished honor, love, happiness. Honor as a writer, a commander, or an explorer. But who could word paint a picture, a character different from the thousands painted by our famous authors? Who among this generation wish to live a life like that of the greatest military leader the world has ever known, Napoleon Bonaparte, whose fame. gushed forth as a river of blood at Austerlitz and sank into a salt marsh of remem- brance at Waterloo? Who could explore the sphere of some far off planet, there being no clime of this old world from pole to pole and from mountain top to the heart of the African jungles untrodden by the foot of civilized man? Could he afford to throw his life away upon the farm? Was it worthy of him? It was his birth- place, the home of his happiness and the voice of his calling. Yet he knew that its days of peace and healthful toil offered no adequate opportunity for the spirit he felt striving within him. Why did his present mood prevent him from coolly making a choice of his lifeis calling? V It was love. He loved with great intensity the girl who had been the dream of his daily school life. For her he would gladly lay down his calling, his life, his all. For her he would strive through the darksome pits of failure to the topmost round of the ladder of- SUCCCSS. But now his high school days would soon be over, which meant that he would lose all possibility of being in the society of Ruth Fuget. I shine of her joyous presence, it seemed death itself could not bring a greater blight to his spirit than the impending separation. A dull, dead cloud seem N 'ed to settle upon him-a grim despair. Oh, there is not a ghos t of a chance for me? he was saying to 50 To him, after having spent four years in the genial sun- ' we gladly k'.Pi out no HUN '0! i. Ellie W35 'Ith hid passed. a ,5gun's had mnislli Eli the use of all this :azleworld? Who can Eran hdngs who ham 9 llln' not plunge into I worthless life? llu Why. what is said ah afsmewnnhless. ten :m N. Rmh Fugct, I MI .1 lilo ahead. And M the minute mrpusclt :selc-mxghtv mountains c strand bitttcrfh' scrks i! :Mf r e - ' .we. nmx dotting film. mt speedilv nn :taducl's came da d l Shiny;

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. o .J a r . , i A ,fa'. 3 Ai'e :- A1, 4L. 0' I h t where $511115 Emilie By Roy Tracer. 13 Remote, forlorn, dre'am-haunted and alone, A life walked-but as a life unknown. Where? On the mighty highway to the grave, Speeding forward with time in its flight, Stopped at a crossroad, groping for light. Thus a six-foot, broad-shouldered figure stood over one of the many mighty creations of Godewith what as a foundation, ahi-e art of man. The hrst warm rays of sunshine on a Sunday of early spring shone with sadness upon a well constructed man. Features bold, but regular; piercing steel-gray eyes, overshadowed with heavy dark brows and long black lashes. Thick black hair waved over a high forehead. A fine-formed month, bordered on either side by dimples, added a smiling but bold appearance to the countenance. His garments were of the best tailor make, in perfect harmony with the handsome lines of his figure. This was Dan Martin, a farmeris son, who four years before had been the joke of his school: the scoff of his class. But what could have Changed this rustic, awkward country lad, who might have been seen upon the street corner with a cigarette in one side of his mouth? Could this be the boisterous boy who was the torment of his mother, and the good for nothing of his father? Could this be the young man wha might now be seen during his vacations work- ing energetically upon his fatheris farmt Yes, all this and more, a young man of whom his parents might be proudepromising to be a man of value to the nation. But what could have brought about such a change? What could have made an efficient man out of a worthless boy? Four years of high school. But why was he in such a reverie? Was it failure; was it suc- cess; or was it love? The world said it was failure. Records said it was success. His guardian angel said it was love. 49 ; -..h km -a.,...'A- , '1

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1.. V 3?, EJ': I 3 'I dp'ifstpwf W: t 'Er Vf'r u Vb l w 4' rk' :515'4 ' - 2: u w in. l?! 1 I 'kf e. ,a4, 1:;3 2' ' 56ft? 7 ' 9 'le'Vf a i, 0 .n .l. :- himself when he heard the sound of footsteps, and, glancing up, his eyes almost flashed from his head There was Jack Preston, who had beenehis rival in debate and in athletics, and now in love, walking with Ruth Fuget. Jack had the air of a City gentleman and Dan knew him well worthy ofe could he say Ruth Fuget? She, the daughter of a rich banker, the beauty of her set and the idol of man. Dan thought, as his face grew harder, III am just as good as he? but conscience said, Prove '13,, Dan would have gladly kept out of their way, had he a min- utes notice, but there was no time for escape, so he turned his face toward hisbook till they had passed, followed by a longing glance. And when their figures had vanished in the distance, he thought to himself. wWhat is the use of all this foolishness? Why did God ever place me in the world? Who can live a life different from all the hordes of human beings who have populated the earth in the past centuries? Why not plunge into the whirlpool at my feet and put an end to my worthless life? But no, I will try, if the end brings me out worthy, what is said about me will not amount to much. If it proves me worthless, ten angels swearing I was worthy will not make me so. Ruth Fuget, I will win you? Nature said. llGo aheadfl And who can dispute the mighty law of Godafrom the minute corpuscles of the electrical current above his head to the mighty mountains on either side, every human being, bird, flower and butterfly seeks its mate. Above his head a long obtuse angle of geese, now dotting the blue sky, now losing itself in the foggy mist, went speedily on their way to their nesting Clime. Two wood ducks came dashing down the, desert of water from their home upon the wave. Even the massive structure that arched the Willamette, rolling in a maddened torrent to its peace- ful mate, the Columbia, had attracted the construction of a similar bridge. Dan rose from where he had been sitting for some two hours, with the intention of returning home. But the grandeur of the place tied him with the bonds of nature. JThe sun was flaming its last rays of light over the Coast Range, with its many thousand firs, whose tops projected through the foggy veil that hung about its dales, down into the beautiful valley of the Willamette. The 51 ff I .,. I M..W.-.'M ' ,