Liberty High School - Lion Yearbook (Brentwood, CA)

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BACKXYARD TURN BACK IV.-KRD. Backward, turn backward thy universe. 0 Master: Give us our school days, and we'll promise you hereafter That we'll not in the basement with our loud boistrous yelling. Disturb our dear Prof. to some trustee or friend telling. How he has with some effort mastered his school, How the pupils no longer think nonsense and fool. We'll not tear the school down if left to our keeping, Yet we'll not be asleep, no we will not be sleeping. Backward, turn backward. to sChool's celestial treasure And we'll study with zeal and obey, Lord, with pleasure: That is, when the Prof's there to see what we do. When he leaves ui of course, at noon there's a few Who may dance in the hall, tho' in the school 'tis not taught. Yet the only crime in this is of being caught. For if teacher don't catch us we won't say a word And what you don't know don't hurt. so I've heard. You know when the cat's out the mice are not weeping So we'll not go to sleep-no we'll not be caugh sleeping. The girls will appreciate as never before The lectures dear teacher has ever in store. And will not accept candy from fellows you know, Nor walk to the station. since it makes a bad show. For she says to the girls with a smile quite convincing. And I'm sure that she had our young ladies wincing: Now I never received gifts from young men. my dears And see how I've 'scaped them these past many years. O'er the faces of the girls will be seen slowly creeping A smile clearly saying: We'll not be caught sleeping. And now dear reader, do not in construing. Think nonsense an index of what we are doing: For while we enjoy life in it's bright days of schooling XVe do not waste work hours in And in study more than pleasure our nonsense and fooling. harvest we're reaping. So in facing life's problems we'll not be found sleeping. Anon. G. B. IN MEMORIAM. Death is an unpleasant theme-we prefer to dip our pen in the dulcet syrup of song. to the realms of fancy. to deal with the or gather from the Elysian Fields of lands rather than place the asphodils sorrow for the bier of the dead. weave a chaplet from tangible affairs of life Hope its alluring gar- bedewed with tears of But Death cannot be ignored-for all must die. lt places no limitations on ambitions-our schemes must end with the dread strings cf the living are Our hearthstones are left unto us, our purposes. our plans. our am- for gold or pleasure. They ai! summons. No matter if the heart torn with ruthless cruelty or that desolate +the inevit- able fiat goes forth and there is no appeal. We bow. oh death. to thy inexorable mandate. but

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ln wit a man. in slmpllclty a chlld. Thus. If small things we may with great compare. -Pope. Where they do agree their unanimity ls wonderful. Cowper. Freshle Optimlsts- Pygmles. yet pygmles. still they he perched upon the Alps. IQings nlay be blest. but fhe F,-eshigs are glorious --Young. Freshles- Full many a flower is born to blush unseen And waste its sweetness cn the desert alr. Hands that the rods of empire mlght have swayed Or waked ecslaey a llvlng lyre. A mute lnglorlcus Mlltcn here may Ile. A youth to fortune and fame unknown. -Gray Junlors- Eternal sunshine settle ln lts bead The equal to all thlngs for all things unllt. -Goldsmith Sophs- I A fool must now and then he rlght by chance. --Cowper. Teachers- A head as strong as an alllgato ron the banks ofthe Nile. 0'er the hills of life victorious. Freshle Pesslmists- O life thou art a gaullng load Along a rough and weary road For wrefches such as l. -Burns. Katietarranging a Latin sentences-It lsn't exactly wrong if you don't put it in the right place. l it? Miss Newby lin Geometry!-Zilla. explain the rela- tlon between a relation and a constant. Zllla-A Constant in a llmlt. A Steady ls a constant. Therefcre a steady ls the llmlt. Teacher-Who lived ln the Garden of Eden? Byron-Hercules. ' Esther-Why does the professor wear a llght hat? Wlllle--To match his head.

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with the comfortlng assurance that sometime, somewhere, the sun will shine forever brlght. without a setting and all these clouds of yours and mine will be lost in sure forget- ling. These words were suggested by the death of a friend -a worthy citizen. a good, kind neighbor, who through long years of association we had learned to esteem as worthy of our highest regard. and whose death has cast a pall of sorrow upon the entire community. We can scarcely real- ize that it was above the remains of Hans Ronnlckson that the solemn and dignitied burial ceremony of the Brothers of the Mystic Tie was said. or that the mile-long proces- cession of vehicles that bore the stricken mourners and sor- rowlng friends to the cemetery. or that the mound of flow- ers and exquisite floral designs-mute but beautiful trib- utes to the dead-were placed above his bler. Yet it is true. Hans is gone. His widow mourns the loss of a kind husband, his children the loss of a good fatt: er. the community the loss of an exemplary and public spir- ited citizen. and the Liberty Union High School one of its staunchest friends. lt was through his instrumentality more perhaps, than any one man, that we have the sub- stantlal and commodlous high school building: his personal superfntendence of its construction, his painstaking inter- est In its finish and completeness that has secured to Brent- wood and the adjacent districts a graceful structure, that must stand conspicuously monumental to the memory and broad-minded intelligence of Its projectors and builders. To none is a greater degree of credit due than to the inde- fatlgable President of the Board of Trustees-Mr. Hans Bonnickson. Requlescat in pace. -R. G. Dean. FROM THE ALUMNAE. The days now are no more we see, And we must be content With fond memories of Liberty And joyous days there spent. We must now face llfe's severe strain And from no duty shrlnkg . And use our knowledge to our gain, Yet we cannot but think: Tho' life may be ln every way What people call success, And we're bedecked with laurels gay As e'er a man did bless: What peaceful hours we once enjoyed! How sweet their memory still! Gone. they have left an aching vold The world can never flll. -Anon. G. B.