Liberty High School - Lion Yearbook (Brentwood, CA)

Page 14 text:

THE lil BERTY HELL once more at the girl, who was weeping XxtLll her hands over her lace, tnen turned and walked away. The picture taded and the water resumed its leaden hue. Sud- denly a glare of brilliant light blinded me tor a moment, and when 1 recovered 1 could see a woman on a beautiful stage. She was singing. l know l didn't hear ner, but I seemed to know she was sing- ing. The light fell on her face and I could see that it was Myra Pearce. This picture faded as did the others and l awaited the next eagerly. I had not waited long. The chief iigure was Polly Barkley in a policewomairs uniform. VVa1king be- side her with his collar clutched in her hand was a desperate looking character. Although he struggled to escape Polly handled him with as much ease as if he had been a child. The next picture was very exciting. Crowds of men and boys were shouting joyfully, girls were waving pennants and several men were walking about, a man borne high on their shoulders holding a football. The man was Fred Macgurn. The scene changed. It was the interior of a childs bedroom. There was a tall woman in the room whom I saw to be Edith Cakebread and two little girls, one of whom was screaming loudly and the other was holding two sticks of candy, dancing merrily around the room. The picture faded and another one instantly took it's place. It was a tiny room whose sole occupant was a woman, busily writing. She pushed her hair off her fore- head with an impatient gesture and half turned around. By the dim light I could see that it was Elvira. Lucas and that she was writing poetry. The next was a tropical scene. Tall cocoanut and palm trees stood all around. In the center of the picture was a huge iron pot and two trembling white men stood by it surrounded by a band of half naked savages. The lid of the kettle was raised and the terrified captives were about to be thrown in when from behind a tree 1'ushed a girl, black' like the rest but evidently more kind hearted, for she T.tlI'6W her arms around one of the men whom I saw was Henry Barkley, and would not let them kill either him or his companion Eddie Hevey. As the picture faded all three were seen running rapidly from the place. The next was a young man, with his curly brown hair in disorder, and a daub of brown paint on one cheek, standing before an easel busily painting. A little yellow haired lady sat beside him gaping at the easel with admitting eyes and I knew she was his wife. The man was Richard Wallace. On the other side of the room was another artist, but no pretty woman sat beside him. He was extremely tall and thin and I knew it was Roy Frerichs, familiarly known in high school as Slats. As the scene changed I could disting- uish a tall graceful man. As it became clearer I could see that he was evidentli' a dancing master, and I had to look twice to assure myself that it was Ernest Crockett, but it was indeed he. This pic- ture rapidly changed to what seemed to me all blue sky with a tiny black speck at one side. The speck gradually' be- came larger and began to take on shape and I could see that it was an aeroplane with two occupants. a man and a woman. I did not recognize the woman but could see that the man was Everett Ifemoinc. His name was printed on the machine in large letters and something else was Writ- ten there, but the picture passed so quickly that I could not read it. llfll

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THE LIBERTY BELL Sclinul Iilruplqerg Cairo, May 14, 1917. Dear Ruth: I suppose you have heard about my father's old aunt coming out to Cali- ornia from Tennessee to see us, and liow the old lady took a fancy to me? tWellJ she is as rich as Croesus, so I thought it would pay to be nice to her, and the result is-Well here I am in Egypt. She is a dear old soul, but she has two pecul- iarties. The first one-I suppose she can't help because it's her name-Mehitable Eliza Susanna Jane! Isn't that a mouth- full? The second is that she goes to sleep every day after lunch and sleeps until dinner time, about half past seven. I might also add that she has a pet aversion toward slang. so I don't dare to use it in her presence or when I'm writing her pokey old letters for her to her pokey old friends. but believe me. I make up for it in my own letters. Well, I mustn't devote too much time to Aunt M. E. S. .Iane's peculiarities but if it were not for the second one, this letter wouldn't have been written at all. Day before yesterday Aunt went to sleep as usual. and I began to cast about for something to amuse myself with. There is a beautiful garden around the place where we're staying. and as I was wandering around it I came upon a young man lying stretched out at full length on the grass. He arose as I approached and I saw it was a Mr. Dalrymple who is stav- lng at the place and with whom I had a I bowing acquaintance. He crossed the lawn and began to walk down the path with me. I told him of my quest for an amusement and be asked me it I had ever heard of Cleopatra's pool. l told him 1 hadn't, so he said we would certainly go see it. He said that whoever looked into it could see what would happen in the future after he had performed certain rites. I laugh- ed at the story but nevertheless I wanted to see Cleopatra's pool. Alter walking for SOIlle time we came to the edge of the garden and there lay a. beautiful pond of the clearest sapphire blue. Cleopatra's pool, said he. Do you wish to try your luck? I laughed and told him that I would like to see my old schoolmates as they would be in after years. He muttered a few words, made a whole lot of funny motions then seized my band and we knelt beside the pool. After peering intently into the blue depths for a, while, would you believe it-the water actually began to take on a grayish tint and I could see faint outlines of trees waving wildly to and fro. I knew it could not be the reflection of those above us br-cause there was not a breath of wind to stir them. Then I could distinguish two human figures a girl in white and a tall n'an in the uniform of a general. He bent his head and kissed her. then turned away and as he turned I could see his face. and I knew at once who it was. It was Harold Collis! Ile looked I

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TIIE LIBERTY IIELI. Next was the interior of a court room. A woman lawyer was talking and Ruthie you'll never guess who this modern Portia was-it was Mary Parenti! lt rapidly faded and another took its place. This was a beautiful country home sur- rounded by a garden. Across the lawn were walking a man and a woman with a little boy running ahead ol' tbetn. The woman was Emma Shellenburger and the other two were evidently her husbattd and son. Following this cheerful picture was a scene in the interior of a hospital. On her knees beside a low. white bed was a sister of charity. As she rose I saw her face and was petrified with astonishment to see that it was Elaine Wallace! As I was wondering what had indttced her to become a nurse the picture suffered the fate of its fellows and another was there. It was an operating room. Two doctors enveloped in long white aprons stood gaz- ing intently upon a figure on the table. Suddenly the figure stirred, and the doc- tors turned toward each other with joy on their faces. As they did so I could see that they were Alvin Howard and Ver- non Cakebread. The next seemed to be a meeting of some sort. As it became clearer I seemed to know that it was a faculty meeting. Among those present I recognized Henri' Plumley, YValter Swift, Neva Sheddrick and Elizabeth Jongeneel. As each onc handed in their report. although l could not read it I seemed to know what was written. I gathered that Henry Plumlev was Professor of Natural Historv. Walter Swift of Dead Languages. Neva Shed- drick of English and Elizabeth of Ancient History. Cleopatra's pool seemed to he as fickle as that lady herself, for not even for their dignitaries did it give much time and they were ,soon gone. After them was an array of fearful and wonderful hats, so l knew it to be a millinery storc. A tall woman roso as two other women tntt-ted the shop and I saw that the first was Adrianna Jongeneel who evidently owned the shop. This was followed by a stnall, but tastefully furnished rootn in which were two young women, one of whom was writing, with piles of manu- script on the table in front of her, and the other was making a. pen and ink sketch. The first one was Esther Wristen and the second was Aileen Porter. Then I saw a laboratory in which were two men. One was standing in a corner mixinglsomething while the other stood before a window holding a bottle on which was a label with the words Freckle Lo- tion, made exclusively by Healy and Porter. Then I recognized the men- Andrew Porter and James Healy. This picture gave place to another which was a great meeting. I saw that it was the House of Representatives at Washington. in session, and the speaker was a tall. angular woman. no less a person than Blanche Juett. Next was a glare of brilliantly white snow. Everywhere was snow, and toil- ing wearily along was a dog team. and two tnen clad in furs. Their faces were almost entirely covered, hut I could see that the men were Byron Fotheringham and Henry Winfree. Then as the picture changed I could see the interior of a beauty parlor. Several exceedingly plain women were going through the painful process of becoming young and beautiful. My gaze lingered on their sufferings a while then shifted to the door where a bilge placard bore the words: Beauty Parlors. Viola Parlin and Susie Dickin- son. The next was a street. or rather n canal. in Venice. Several long. black con- llll