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

Page 17 text:

MARGARET PUTNAM CLARENCE WRIGHT LAURA FOGARTY ELLIS PACKARD BETH HAUGHT EDITH HAUGHT LILY BRANDT GLADYS CRESS FERN DAMON . LUCILE STRANTZ ABE PROTZEL GEORGE ALDA DUENSING ANNA MOONEY HAROLD JONES VIOLET DRESSER ETHEL HAYWARD NAOMI GARRETT GILMAN ROBERTA SHREVE 13

Page 16 text:

Margaret Putnam Beth Haught Fern Damon Alda Duensing Clarence Wright Edith Haught Luclle Strantz Anna Mooney Laura Fogarty Lily Brandt Harold Jones Fills Packard Gladys Cress Abe Protzel Violet Dresser Ethel Hayward Naomi Garrett George Gilman Roberta Shreve The importance and value of this department is shown by the growing demand of the business men of Orovllle for students trained along commercial lines. Each year the enrollment of the Commercial Class increases, because it affords, to the boy or girl who has his own way to make, and who is unable to provide for himself a higher education, the opportunity of equipping himself for a good start in business life. The number of students now enrolled is about sixty. Miss Beik, the class teacher, teaches shorthand, typing and book-keeping; Mrs. Nisbet also teaches book-keeping, while Mr. Kissling has the classes in commercial arithmetic and geography. A few of the students, who have graduated from this department and have found employment in this city are: Gladys Braselton.. .Stenographer for the First National Bank Florence Bass... Employed by the Sunical Packing Company Katherine Da Massa........By the Swayne Lumber Company Jean Howe.............................By the County Clerk Ellen Johnson....By the Butte County Title Abstract Co. Nora Nordmark...............By the Olive Products Company Grace Mooney..............in the Law Office of J. M. McGee Marybelle Herrin............By the Ehmann Olive Company Mary Anderson. .As Secretary to Guy White of the Y. M. C. A. The graduates of 1920 we know will reflect as much credit upon their training, after they leave school, as those we have just named. 12

Page 18 text:

THE VISION It had been a dieary day; the rain had poured down in torrents, until scarcely an hour before, when it had quieted down to a gentle drizzle; and then the clouds had lifted a little and it had ceased entirely. Now evening was come, and as you looked upward, you could see the clouds as they had broken apart, showing little spots of blue on the otherwise gloomy sky. Then all at once, the world was bathed in glory, some clouds looked like banks of the whitest snow, while others were edged with gold; and still others were of the brightest rose, which had faded and faded until it was lost in the blue of the sky. as the sun burst from behind a cloud in its struggle to give the world one glorious promise of a new and better day. A little boy stood at his window, amazed, almost enchanted by the glory of this California sunset. Never had he seen the like before. Always having lived in the mountains where the sun is so often quickly lost to view, he thought this the most wonderful of pictures. All day long he had sat at the window in the new home looking at the vast California plains, and all day long the longing for his old home and dislike for the new had grown; but now he was satisfied to stay, now he would want to stay. The long rainy day had been hard but the sunset had paid amply for those dreary hours, for little Cedric was a beauty-loving child, with the eye of an aitist and the soul of a poet. He turned from the window, with a sigh, as the last ray died away, and said. “Ob, mother, that must be where the angels are. Don’t you th»uk it was pretty, mama?” He was quiet a minute. a3 the lit'le mind studied to find a way of expressing his thoughts; and then. “Oh. mama. I wish. I just v.ish everybody could see that.” The mother, a tall, sad-faced, though beautiful woman, left her sewing and crossing the room, threw her arm-; about, the little hoy. Drawing him to a low chair, she seated herself and took h'm on her kr.ce as she began telling him again the old. old story of Sir Galahad, and his Quest for the Holy Grail. The lad iistened. with, solemn eye fixed on his mother's face Many and many a time had he heard the story, but never had it seemed so beautiful as now. And. mama, can I be like Sir Galahad? he a«ked. 14