Oakland High School - Oaken Bucket Yearbook (Oakland, CA)

Page 8 text:

5 ,IQHE HIGH SCHOOL Eors. tfacttltv of the Daltlandliiglt School. .Maid Pl'iltCilJdl, J. B. MCOHESNEY. IIQIMYIIIIQIII ef EIIQHSIT dlld BlSl0l'l1. I' 5 Head. of Department MISS E' A' PACKARD i - i K Instructor in English MISS C, M. CUSHING - - Instructor of English MISS A, W, BREWER Instructor of English Miss L. E. JOHNSON ----- Instructor of History MISS G. M. FISHER - Instructor of History and Civil Government Department efflncient and modern llangttages. , 'Head of Department E' F' BURRILL i - 3 E tInstructor of Greek and Latin Mrss IVIINNIE BUNKI-ER - Instructor of Latin C. E. KEYES - Instructor of Latin Mrss A. E. GALBRAITH - - 'Instructorin'Latin J. M. PATTON ---- i Instructor of French and German Department et ltatural Science. A A i 1' I S P MEADS Q - I - u - V Instructor in Physics ' ' ' Q Head of Department F. G. COTTRELL - -- - -fjjInstructor of Chemistry MISS MARGARET VVYTHE - Instructor...'opf Botany and Zoology . A Department ef mathematics. A MISS K. M. WERTZ - I Head of Department ' Instructor of Trigonometry and Algebra C. L. BIEDENBACI-I - Instructor ot Geometry and Algebra MISS WILLIAMS - - - Instructor of Geometry and Algebra DQPGNIIIQIIY Of Dfdwlllg. RICHARD PARTINGTON - - Instructor of Free-Hand Drawing Department of Physical Culture. Miss C. M. PALMER. -'

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a aiTHE? 1- +- akland High School IE is ISSUED B Y THE CLA!! QF DEQEHBEK, H 9 Hfaqtfzqovvcfrzoag., ff - ' X X f , N publisbing this issue of THE IEGIS, The have varied the E Q usual method somewhat and have endeavored to combine E53 has literary paper 'lbith one devoted to the institutions of the school. 04 large department has been devoted to joshes, and The sincerely hope they 'libill be receibed in tbe spirit 'lbith 'lbhich they are published, namely, one of 4, pure amusement, We are indebted to numerous members of the -school for aid given Q but especially do 'Ive desire to thanh Wm H Bushnell for his kindness in taking the photographs, Wm ?artington for designing the cover, and Wessrs, Carruth 63 Carruth, our printers, 'bbho have alfways been kind and patient in all our dealings with them, l

Page 9 text:

'1'1-na: l-IIC:-r-1 Scnoot, fliers. DGWII Oli the BQl'llQlQlj Bills. QLQ..m'D CLARIBEI, IVIUNSIQLI.. mum Under the last rays of the clear, cold moon, NVith shadows deep and dark and still, they seein To wait the coming morn in grand repose. The little valleys on their sides are Fnll Of whisp'ring birds and streams 3 the rustling leaves Feel the cool breath that they had waited for The whole receding day. And, underneath, The grass with jewel-mocking dew is laid, Which soon beneath the rays of heaven's sun Shall vanish, not to reappear again Till rides the god into the west to hide His light. And, wand'rers thro' the night, we feel The solemn hush that just precedes the day,-M The silence under whose calm touch the whole Of this fair land is soothed from haunting pain And Weariness. Now bird and beast and man, The streams, and e'en the leaves, do seem to wait, Wait for the rosy glow, the sign well-known, Of yet another day. Faint li11es appear, Far east, as if the hills had now been crown'd With diadems, the tribute of the day To the grim warders of Aurora's fire. The shades below them, which until this hour , Had seemed so deep, still deeper plunge, as if To make a strong imprint upon earth And rocks that all around are spread. 'Tall trees Appear to stretch their mighty trunks above The tops of peaks, which loom so black and strong And massive 'gainst the ever whit'ning sky, That they seem jealous of the light behind. A call, so shrill and so distinct, that well , It might be said to cut the very air, Sounds from the lake, as some wild bird prepares To undertake his happy life again. Q V A That call, so meaningless to mortal ears, Tells Nature what our- eyes no longer doubt:- The day is here l , What magic wand hath changed This picture, that we see not now the same T Dark hues of brown and blue and green, ibut gold,- Bright gold, the color which the sun did place Upon his banners at the time when first He spread them to the watching world beneath? Why does the far-off bay, so calm before, Change all its dusky sheen for purest fire, Stirred by the hurrying breeze to little swells Of reddish gold, that fascinate our gaze? And why does all about us seem to stir,-- To move,-to wake from a long, restful sleep? Why do we ask,-all Nature answers us : Why? It is Morning on the Berkeley hills I