Lincoln High School - Cardinal Yearbook (Portland, OR)

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THE CARDINAL Page eight Of the Old Worldk dim records, where down the Years Only honor and courage have shown The light of their tracese-oh, may our poor deeds Glow bright on thy shield, when alone In the pale of the dusk, we leave thee, outbound On our way; may thy dear, darkenlng halls Soon hll with new voices, new figures to love, To be true to thy faith and the name of thy walls. Amnng 091111211125. Drink deep the cup which this day nlls At Memoryys crystal brinke- Take tender care lest one drop spills Where our old love its fancy wills, That glass with glass gay clinka Drink deep the cup! Hold fast this pledge! How long have we Held faith with one another! Lest these four years but starting be For a lifetimeis pure hdelity Close binding each to other- Hold fast this pledge! Rise to my toast, 0 comrades dear, God keep our noble line! 0 ye who have assembled here On this last day, oh, toast me dear, the class of Nineteen Nineiie Rise to my toast! Epilngup. But now that is hnished, scarce can we Refrain from deep regretsedepressing thoughts Of gloomy failures, long chagrined, has brought Its stinging pang; we know we tried to flee The task that pleased us not-we turned to see A bluer sky, and careless, selhsh sought Relief from strain, not heeding that words taught To us in grief anotheris hope could be. Sti11-as we pause upon the threshold, day With glittering train doth beckon useher horn Clear rings the summons; not a vain regretx Shall blight our hope when youth with shining way Lies fair before our feeteambitionis morn Has passed its dawn; we have but started yet. CAMILLA RINGHOUSE. 3 x h.

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Ghana $$an igmlngue. How fast the days have sped of lateaTtis true They ever speedawe seem but to have left Our ladderTs hrst weak round when 10! we see The heights in View, and climbing, rise where free And fresh the winds sweep on; though souls bereft Of Childhoode happy fancies wish the past Could turn again-how can they help but long . To stay its passage fair when every day Brings sunshine in its wake, when e,en the way Though weary oft, seems now to ring with song. Methought I sat and mused in lingering peace On these last four years of dear companionship. EJn the 0115155 33mm. How well we remember-can we ever forget? How Charming that room welcomed in . The gathering knots of the pilgrims who came To that shrine of the Muse to begin The days work, and kneeling there, learned Of lifets deeper mysteries brought From far over seas in the lives of those souls Who had lived out the lessons they taught. When against the gray sky, gray boughs interlocked, Through Februtry twilightk dim screen, The charm was the same as when Aprilts sweet breath Gay-twinkled the leaves in the green. Oh, dear teacherafriends, how truly we know Thy stern guiding hands did caress As they ruled. Can ever we gauge The value of thy tenderness? 09m Alma mater. How fresh seemed the morning when down the long street, We wound to thy halls, mother dear, And saw through the trees in the distance the pile Of ancient gray towers appear. And marvelous grand did thy slim height arise Past the neighboring roofs that nearby Did kneel at thy feet, and from below gaze Where thy sharp-pointed spire touched the sky. And we felt as we neared thee a half conscious delight ' In the turn of thy proflle, the gray of thine age, That touches the heart like the pleasure that stirs The deep thoughts within us when turning the page

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v. iw'r IL A'y A '1 ' s $9 In m h ttK-Jl , a i:f i341: ;' i'h'f dmis tics c . ' UH-gdnd 'AIII'91fn . i' .1 t ,..h I'I'uh M i a k 'W 2 . Lac J I E :Ilh Ma'ii lura. J '1 n i l S ,t ,0 .xr .. MY e$ 'iii- c I 3x . . x!lw' Page m'ne THE C ARDI N AL th 0111mm nf Ernie 75mm. CHAPTER I. HE busy thoroughfare of the great metropolis was thronged with people. Up and down they surged, pushing on every side. Amid this jostling multitude a young girl paced slowly along with an air of shy and modest dignity. From the top of her dainty head to the soles of her very small feet, she was Youth, Grace and Beauty incarnate. The sweeping purple plume of her hat, which curled betwitch- ingly around her inhnitesimal ear, afforded a delightful contrast to the golden ripples of her abundant tresses. A trailing robe of the same royal hue fell in graceful folds about her fairy-like form. One ala- baster arm clasped lovingly to her breast a huge bunch of buttercups and daisies. A scarf of brilliant yellow, twined entrancingly about her snowy throat, iioated behind her in a diaphanous cloud upon the soft evening zephyr. Twas the Lady Ethelinda Vere! Among the adoring eyes that followed her, none glowed with more burning ardor than the fiery orbs of Don Carlos Parradello. Every detail of this young noblemanis appearanceehis swarthy skin, his coal black hair, his raven mustache, with its hercely upcurled ends, his dis- dainful, proud and haughty airwbetrayed his southern blood. He gazed after Lady Ethelinda with an all-devoui'ing yearning in his eyes, but not one look did she vouchsafe him. For, as she crossed the street a veritable Apollo loomed upon the horizon. His great stature, his golden hair, which clustered about his temples like a god, his limpid, blue eyes, and fair complexion, proclaimed him an Englishman through and through. As glancesmet glance his hat leaped from his head, and the blushes, blooming and fading in her delicate Cheeks, allowed anyone to infer that some tender relation existed between them. As he took her soft hand in his with an air of proud possession, her dewy eyes filled with blissful tears. Then the infatuated pair, oblivious to the sordid, noisy world about them, strolled onward hand in hand. But who is this who gazes after them with baleful eyes, muttering curses to himself? Who stealthily clutches a dagger half hidden in his bosom? Who meditates darkly on revenge and bloodshed until his brain reels dizzily? iTis the evil genius of the house of Snookum, whose noble young scion had just been favored by the goddess of the purple plume. itShall this thing be ? cried the miserable Villain. iiNever! Never! Shall yon pink-cheeked weakling drink deep of the cup of joy while I am denied even the dregs? Ho, ha! At last this trusty blade shall take its fill of the blood of that scurvy wretch! Methinks I see a way! A1- ready a plan is shaping in my brain. Ho, holi, CHAPTER II. IiAngel of light? quoth Skoo-kum, iifor the past week I have been