Northern Arizona State Teachers College - La Cuesta Yearbook (Flagstaff, AZ)

 - Class of 1930

Page 145 of 173

 

Northern Arizona State Teachers College - La Cuesta Yearbook (Flagstaff, AZ) online collection, 1930 Edition, Page 145 of 173
Page 145 of 173



Northern Arizona State Teachers College - La Cuesta Yearbook (Flagstaff, AZ) online collection, 1930 Edition, Page 144
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Northern Arizona State Teachers College - La Cuesta Yearbook (Flagstaff, AZ) online collection, 1930 Edition, Page 146
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Page 145 text:

LA CUESTA 1930 THE OCOTILLO Many, many years ago, while the Imperial Valley was still an arm of the ocean, there lived, at the foot of the Chocolate Mountains, a tribe of Indians with their mighty chieftain, Kwonesha. He was famed, far and near, for his quiver of arrows, which were so effective that many Indians believed them to be magic. Only Kwonesha himself knew the secret of making the bright red poison in which he dipped the tips of the arrows and which made them the most deadly weapons in the west. He was very proud of his quiver full of poisoned arrows. He depended on it much in battle, and called it his trusty Ocotillo. Kwonesha had a beautiful young daughter named Wanewis, the pride and joyof the tribe. On the opposite side of the valley the Ojawebos lived, a fierce and warlike tribe. But Mahnomonie, the son of their chief, was, though fierce in battle, kind in heart. He had asked her hand in marriage, but Kwonesha would not consent to his daughter's marrying the son of a hostile chief. Then one morning Kwonesha awoke to find Wanewis gone from the camp. At first he hoped that she had only wandered away for a walk, but after the hills were searched and she was not found, he decided that she had' been kidnapped by Mahnomonie, Kwonesha was enraged and deter- mined to follow them himself to bring Wanewis back. Thereupon Kwonesha went to his tent and took down his quiver of arrows, his great and trusty Ocotillo. For days and days Kwonesha followed his daughter's trail across the hot, sandy desert, but never did he even catch sight of the runaway pair. Occasionally he would come upon signs of them, but that was all, every day he grew more bitter toward the man who had stolen his daughter. He determined to kill him the moment he saw him. On the last evening, almost within sight of the Ojawebos camp, Kwon- esha lay down to sleep. Before lying down he carefully stuck his quiver of arrows, his Ocotillo, into the ground to keep them safely, saying as he did so, Mighty Ocotillo, tomorrow I will send one of your arrows into the heart of Mahnomonief' As he slept a gentle rain came and gave new life to the desert. In the morning when he awoke, he found that his arrows had taken root and were growing. A delicate tracery of green leaves covered the shaft of each arrow and the red poison tips of the arrows had turned into long clusters of vivid crimson flowers. Taking this as a sign from the Great Spirit that he was to allow his daughter to live with Mahnomonie, he sadly gave up the chase and re- turned home, saying, Farewell, my trusty Ocotillo, as he left the beau- tiful plant in the distance. To this day the Ocotillo, with its tall and slender stalks and its flam- ing tassels of gorgeous red, attracts visitors to our southern desert and reminds them of the gentle Wanewis and her warlike lover, Mahnomonie, of her angry father, Kwanesha, with his mighty quiver, The Ocotillo. One Hundred Fifty-eight

Page 144 text:

LA CUESTA 1930 Ruth lay awake for some time thinking about things. Yes, Tom was a good sport, 'kinda' fun to be with, but Percy was a regular college man, especially in his clothes and manners, and she was glad she was going to the show with him, at least he realized her ability as an actress while all the other fellows didn't seem to appreciate the fact that she had been in two major roles last quarter in Emperor Jones and this quarter she had been the footsteps in the distance for the play, Jack, the Giant Killer. Anyway, she'd show them ..... Ruth Smith, dressed in the very latest style, walked into one of the smart shops on Broadway. The proprietor came eagerly forward: Ah! how charming you look today, Miss Smith, no wonder New York sings in your praise, you are a beautiful woman, a talented woman, a woman of great fame and opportunities. Ruth accepted this as a mere matter of fact, smiled at the Parisian tailor, and said, Oh, Monsieur, would you please send my beaded gown to my dressing room, I'll need it in my second act, and now I must hurry on because Mr. Halstead, the scenario writer, wants me to criticize his new play. Hurry now, Monsieur, with the gown, won't you ? The music of the Metropolitan was not the only attraction from the outside, for the lights were playing over the name of Margaret Mansefield in The Great White Way, and really this was our Ruth Smith at the height of her fame. Back of the scenes Ruth was talking to Mr. Halstead: Well, this common acting doesn't appeal to me, but I'll be your star for a few weeks, of course, the understanding will be that the contract will be signed for 35,000 a week, and after that I'm going to be a critic where chances are big. Mr. Halstead was bubbling over with joy at the prospect of hiring the star. It would mean success to his play. The lights went out and then spotted the stage. There was a low murmur of anxiety from the audience, and a tiny white figure with jet black hair and a lovely white face was before them. Margaret Mansfield! Margaret Mansfield! The house was roaring, and Ruth, smiling timedly, blew them a kiss. Horace Limberger, who played the part of the leading man, was on the stage, tall, graceful, the idol of Broadway, but his heart had been for little Ruth ever since they had known each other at school. She was in his arms-he had kissed her-now he held her shoulders- Ruth-Ruth- wake up, we got to get over to Deaver's class and dissect frogs-hurry, honey, it's almost eight! Almost eight . . . Deaver's class . . . Dissect frogs . . . But how about Horace Limberger? How silly, why, that was just the kind of cheese all the girls ate with their hot dogs last night! What a terrible dream, no more hot dogs at ten-thirty for me. Ruth called to Jean to come and close her window, and turn on some bath water, and find her clothes, and get her books ready, and borrow a pencil from someone, and lend her lipstick, and ask Agnes for a handker- chief, and the prof. probably wouldn't have to wait so long after eight o'clock for her appearance, and, of course, he would wait! One Hundred Fifty-scv



Page 146 text:

LA CUESTA 1930 ALARM CLOCKS Necessity is the mother of invention. I have to write a familiar essay for English III. Although I have almost a hundred topics covering every known subject, my mind does not seem to want to inform me of enough material with which to write five hundred words on any subject. My roommate is visiting and how I'd like to join the bull session, but I must write this familiar essay. I'm. getting dreadfully sleepy, guess I'll go borrow my alarm clock from whoever has it. I'll set the alarm for four-thirty in the morning, then get up when it rings, and write my familiar essay on some unfamiliar subject. Alarm clocks are truly a wonderful invention. Mine's name is Na- poleon, he is truly a wonderful person. But how I hate him and his brothers on some occasions. Only winding the key and turning the alarm will bring crowds of girls to the room. Wtih many angry exclamations they demand that horrid thing be turned off. I can't sleep, I can't study, I can't think, are what they say. I don't feel sorry because I know they were all glad of a chance to rush from their rooms during study hour. Napoleon is bright canary yellowg his name is printed in large letters across his face. His whole body is autographed with names of my friends who borrow him. His face is clean and I like clean faces fthose that stay clean for weeks without washingj. In the center of his face, extending outward, are two arms. I wish I had the patience with these armsg with a little encouragement they are always on time, never late to class. But sometimes when I'm too lazy to wind Napoleon and he stops, causing me to be late to class, I say horrid things about him even if I know it was my fault because I failed to wind him. Napoleon has a slogan on his back, one which makes me uneasy when I look at it: Be on time. It reminds me of the lessons I want to leave till tomorrow and then till the day after that. Right now the slogan says, Be on time with your familiar essay. Each tick, steadily repeated, re- minds me that I must get it in on time. As I sit here looking at the alarm clock I am reminded of the many times I've set it at a certain hour I must get up at in order to finish some lesson or study for a test. I am fully determined when I go to bed that I will not turn over in bed, and think I'll get up in a minute, but finally reach out, turn off the alarm and go to sleep again. We have a great deal of fun with alarm clocks disturbing the peace- ful quiet that always reigns in the hall. At least it is fun when we play the trick on someone else. Only, when someone else awakens us with the ringing of an alarm clock, we don't think it is funny. . But after all, alarm clocks are a great help in college life. I'll set mine for five-thirty and get up and write that familiar essay. -A. P. Onc Hundred Fifty-nin

Suggestions in the Northern Arizona State Teachers College - La Cuesta Yearbook (Flagstaff, AZ) collection:

Northern Arizona State Teachers College - La Cuesta Yearbook (Flagstaff, AZ) online collection, 1924 Edition, Page 1

1924

Northern Arizona State Teachers College - La Cuesta Yearbook (Flagstaff, AZ) online collection, 1925 Edition, Page 1

1925

Northern Arizona State Teachers College - La Cuesta Yearbook (Flagstaff, AZ) online collection, 1926 Edition, Page 1

1926

Northern Arizona State Teachers College - La Cuesta Yearbook (Flagstaff, AZ) online collection, 1949 Edition, Page 1

1949

Northern Arizona State Teachers College - La Cuesta Yearbook (Flagstaff, AZ) online collection, 1930 Edition, Page 7

1930, pg 7

Northern Arizona State Teachers College - La Cuesta Yearbook (Flagstaff, AZ) online collection, 1930 Edition, Page 95

1930, pg 95


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