Oroville Union High School - Nugget Yearbook (Oroville, CA)

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and carrying flowers with them. Something about the poise of one of them struck me. and my heart gave a great bound, for I thought I recognized the Princess. Thinking so, I hastened my steps, that I. too. might see the grave where lay the boy. Coming up to the gates I could see the Princess a little way within them, for it seems they had stopped to speak to the old keeper. So, cautiously and at a Ittle distance. 1 followed her till presently she stopped at a newly made grave with a tiny white stone at its head, and having distributed her flowers, knelt down beside it to pray. Whereat, knowing that she found him once again. I stole softly and silently away. W ell do 1 know now that she comes no more, that they two. who were never apart, are now together, for on that tiny white stone is graven these words— Basil. Au Revoir.” MARY TO LAND, 15. MY FRIEND. God’s greatest gift was once bestowed on me— A friend—Yes one so mated to my soul”— That we together strove to reach the goal-The height of life, where all is pure and free. W'e knew youth’s happy, golden hour would flee. But little did we dream how great a toll. Time would exact; or how the clouds would roll. Above our path until we scarce could see. The years have passed, and we are far apart! In memory only we each other greet. When, thinking of the past, the tear drops start. Instead I thank my God for friendship sweet. And then I hear hope whisper to my heart. Look up. be brave! Some day thy friend thou’lt meet. —HUBERT R. GASKINS. '16. 19

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married now, and I, who were to prevent it. am sleeping.” Immediately I started out and luckily in the right direction, for presently I came out into a great square, crowded with people, all facing the opposite side, where stood a very beautiful cathedral, raised many feet above the ground, by great stone blocks and having in front a stone terrace from which, to cither side and in front, fell away, shallow steps, also of stone and reaching to the ground. I. an old man and small, through courtesy of the people, was enabled to make my way almost to the front of the crowd to a place where I could sec the door of the church and the terrace very plainly. As I made my way to the front, I recognized the strains of the wedding march within, and knew that the ceremony was over. In a moment there appeared at the door of the church, a group of officers and nobles and foremost among them, clad in a splendid white uniform and towering above his comrades, appeared my big boy of the mountains. Swiftly they formed an aisle and, as the Princess and her bridegroom appeared at the door, their swords clashed together, forming an arch of steel, under which the bridal party walked to the edge of the terrace. Out in front of them and down a step or two, sprang the boy and. waving his great sabre aloft in one hand and his helmet in the other, led the people in a great burst of cheering which almost deafened me—as I looked at my Princess, something seemed to drop within me. Could that marble mask and those calm cold eyes belong to that transcendantly glorious being, who but a short while since. I had seen fling herself into the arms of the boy who now stood before her? Eagerly, but vainly, I looked for a trace of that tire, which emanating from within, had so lit up those won- dcrful eyes and that beautiful face, so that one could see through them as it were, the soul of a woman, naked, joyous, and unashamed, pouring forth to meet its mate. And the spark which had ignited that noble flame now stood before it, calling for plaudits for its happiness. Mockery, oh. mockery! Suddenly as I looked, his face grew pale and swiftly he sprang again, this time upward to the edge of the terrace, his bulk covering both the Princess and her consort, and as he sprang, from somewhere in the crowd, a shot rang out; and slowly, first at the knees, then at the hips, the big boy crumpled and fell. But even as lie touched the ground, the Princess was down beside him and had his head pillowed upon her knees. Quickly they brought a cushion, but as they brought it. the boy smiled happily up at his Princess, snuggled into her arms like a tired child into those of his mother and went to sleep. Tenderly and gently the Princess placed his head upon the cushion and bending, in the full sight of all. kissed him. Rising, she refused the King’s arm and. looking neither to the right or left, but rather at nothing, came slowly down the steps and entered her carriage. PART THREE. Feeling very tired and worn, from this great shock. I betook me to my little cottage in Italy to rest for a time, ere returning home. On the hill back of my little house was a cemetery and it came my custom to walk there daily—and to think of the time not far distant when I should rest there myself. One day, while on the road thitherward, a carriage passed me. bearing two women, both dressed in black 18

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WHY THE BUTTERCUP IS YELLOW The tall Hollyhock looked down condescendingly upon the pale little buttercup. “Yes. indeed.” she said. “When Dame Nature comes, we certainly have a festive time. Kvcry flower gives of its honey to make her a cool refreshing drink; and then we bask in her blessings.” The pale little buttercup looked up admiringly at her beautiful friend and asked. “Do you suppose she will help me to grow strong and beautiful like you?” “Oh.” replied the Hollyhock, nodding her graceful head sagely. “1 doubt if she will notice you.—there are so many beautiful creatures to take her attention. you know.” The poor Buttercup humbly bowed her head and sighed. “Of what good is my life? Oh. if I could only be great and beautiful! If I could only do some little good in the world!” A humming-bird, tired and faint with hunger, fluttered up to the Hollyhock, but the Hollyhock only drew up its petals and said. “I am sorry, but I am saving my honey for Dame Nature when she comes.” The bird looked at her sadly and weakly and said, “Yes. that is what all the blossoms say. and I am left to starve.” “Now is my chance to do something good.” thought Buttercup, and raising its head it joyously cried. “You shall have all of my honey, poor bird.” After the bird was refreshed it fluttered into the air and suddenly it changed into a beautiful woman, tall and strong with sunlight sparkling in her eyes and hair. The Hollyhock gasped and whispered. “Dame Nature ! While the poor Buttercup only bowed its head and trembled. Dame Nature smiled. “You have not only proven yourself kind at heart. said she. But you are (most blessed of all) meek in spirit, and for this good deeci you have done, you shall from now on be tl.c color of the richest metal on earth.” —MARIK DAVIS. ’17. REMINISCENCE it took form and shape in a certain studio standing among the green things of September when a wood-fire is a happy thing to look at and it near, and when ideas of a long drive over a quiet country are perhaps urged on by glimpses of a level meadow and a garden full of stillness and color. One day we had been sit- ting in this studio talking in an idle fashion of the early pioneer days when gold was discovered in California. It was an easy change from talking of the country to planning a drive across it. As we rode along we found that everything brought to us suggestions of the pioneer: the brave, enduring