Lompoc High School - La Purisima Yearbook (Lompoc, CA)

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LITERZIRY ll

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THE SENIOR CLASS WILL We, the class of '23 of L. U. H. S., Santa Barbara County, California, being of sound and disposing mind and memory, publish and declare this, our last will and testament, as follows: I, Irma Susan Learned, do hereby will my dignity and decorum in the study hall to Olga Larsen. I, Vera Winebrenner, do will my studious disposition to Lea Palmer. I, Beatrice Stillman, hereby will my ability to find out the past of newcomers in Lompoc to Bud Hawkins. I, Christina Skaarup, do will my ability to comfort broken hearts to Dorothy Ashe. q I, Margaret Truax, do hereby give to Irene Lewis the right of choosing a more suitable gym partner than I was. I, Lysle DeNier Hawkins, do hereby will my beauty of face and figure to Francis Clifford. I, Audrey Isom, do bequeath my departing footsteps to Irene Lewis, which I trust she will take care of, as she may need them next year. I, William Negus, do bequeath my timidity and a stick of chewing gum to Miss Bowen, as I know she has long desired both from me. I, Evelyn Arkley, do hereby will my perfectly good and unused advice to Ethel Upton. ' I, Elton Nicoles, hereby entrust to the care and devotion of Billy Fratis, Lothele Miller. I, Frederick Marshall, do will my dizziness to Cedric Huyck. I, Neva Winn, do will my love for short hand to George Spanne. I, Leta Easter, will my knowledge of Shelly to Hal Stater. In Witness VVhereof, we have set our hand and seal this fifteenth day of June, in the year of Our Lord, One Thousand Nine Hundred and Twenty-Three. CSignedj Class of 1923. Lompoc Union High School. F LIP-FLAP SPRING I I Four little flappers, Quite Blase and freeg One let her bob grow out, Then there were three. II Three little flappers Doing all there was to dog One got her eyebrows back, Then there were two. III Two little flappers, Having lots of fung One let her skirts way down, And then there was just one. IV One little flapper, Flapping all aloneg She lost her rouge pot, And now there are none. -L. P. M. 'Ql- A dash of rain, A flash of sung Across the sky The white clouds run. II The day's a maid Of many moods, A Springtime gypsy Among the woods. III With here a whirl Of sparkling dance, And there a tear Beneath her glance. IV For Spring's a nmid Of many moods, A wond'ring gypsy Among the woods! Lothele Miller, '24-

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THE CHRISTMAS VISION Standing at the door of the rambling old adobe house, nestling among the foot- hills, was a young girl of about sixteen. She was dressed in a full skirt of bright, flowered material, and a sleeveless bolcro of black velvet over a light white blouse. Her black hair was parted in the middle, waving back to be held in place by a big shell comb, and forming a frame for the oval face with its dark eyes and flushed cheeks, which seemed to be rellecting the gorgeous blaze of the sunset. Slowly, as she watched it, the California sun sank into its bed of rose and golden clouds, piled high over thc horizon of the sea, and casting lights of purple, yellow, and crimson over the Islands below. 'Further back, on the foot hills, the oaks glistened as the sun shone on their leaves, newly washed by a passing shower. The rain in the valley had frozen as it passed the higher slopes of the mountains, and now the summits glistened white with snow. The snow and the red berries on the hills were all that told one that it was Christmas- Christmas in California. As the girl stood there, watching the sun go down, a little boy came around the corner of the house, dragging a resisting yellow puppy by a rope about its neck. The child was about four years old, and in the sunset light he looked like a little cherub with his wide blue eyes, and his golden curls cropped close to his head. Why, Pepito! exclaimed the girl, turning toward him. I thot that you'd gone home to la madrecita long ago! It's almost dark now-you'll have to stay until we can take you home. Don't care, returned Pepito, nonchalantly, Peppy like 'tay wiz 'Cedes, and he sat down on the step at her feet, looking up at Mercedes adorably. He knew he was a long way from home, but he also knew that he had done this many times before, and that l1e'd always gotten home safely-usually via Don De la Guerda's big roan horse, and nothing suited Pepito better than to be hoisted into the saddle before the Don and galloped home to his madrecita's waiting arms. As Mercedes was thinking of how she could get the little fellow home as soon as possibe after dinner, her mother, the Senora De la Guerda, came thru the hall- way behind her. Madre mia, said Mercedes, here is Pepito O'Farrelll again. The little picarito hasn't gone home, and now that it is turning dark his mother will be afraid for him. What can we do? The senora his mother knows where he is, returned the dona, we shall have your father return him home as soon as dinner is over. We had best make ready for chapel now, hija mia. Nina has prepared for the Christmas services, and your father will soon be here. How beautiful it is for Christmas eve! Listen, I hear El Rey's hoof beats on the road now-your father is coming. ln a minute the Senor De la Guerda rode into the yard and dismounted. Ah! buenos noches, mis queridos! he cried. lsn't this a wonderful eve for Christmas? Ay, and whom have we here? swinging the gurgling Pepito high aloft. Why aren't you home, you little scamp? Seheming for a ride home on El Rey, I'l1 wager, If you aren't careful about straying from home, Diaz, the bandit, will catch you. He specializes on little runaway American boys! Hush, Ramon, said the senora. You should not frighten the child with such ,,, tales. I fear it may not all be tale telling that I hear, returned the Don more seriously. Only this day, in the village, it was heard that Diaz has been working up and down the coast again, burning and plundering the ranches. Ay, but surely he would not rob nor burn on a holy eve, said Mercedes. Come, let's get ready for chapel. There goes Paquita's dinner gong now! After dinner the senor started out with Pepito for the boy's home, which lay 12