Palo Alto High School - Madrono Yearbook (Palo Alto, CA)

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And now we are Seniors. You can’t really appreciate it until you get there, but we assure you that it is the very best of all. This whole book is the story of our last year so there is little need to repeat here all the grand glorious events which have made it such a success. Our championship football and baseball teams, the Senior dance under President Stevenson, the track team, the best-yet carnival and the Senior play all were A No. I, to say nothing of obtaining the necessary credits to graduate and some scholarship cards. Thus our record is complete and as we look back we are proud of it, proud of Paly I Ii, and proud to graduate. We have only one regret and worry. We can not possibly figure out how you will manage to exist without us. [20]

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HISTORY OF THE CLASS OF '22 Before setting forth the chronicle of events which have been carefully recorded by our Royal Historian and now form our almost complete class history we wish to explain one thing to our readers. Each year at graduation time you have been told that you then beheld the finest and best class that had ever graduated, or ever would- Naturally, bored by this tiresome repetition, you become skeptical. But let us inform you that heretofore you have been cruelly deceived. Our committee on research has undoubtedly proved that these former classes were rank imposters, fakers at best. Also there can be no future best classes because we are IT. Do not stop to question this, just take our word for it. With this fact disposed of we proceed. 22 was the last Freshman class in the old high school and the First Freshman class in the new. We soon displayed our fine spirit by buying more War Saving Stamps than any other class in the school. Though rather quiet in our Freshman year we were preparing for the many triumphs in the years to come. As Sophomores our career in athletics began and the following men starred: Card in baseball. Shaw and Scofield in basketball, and Scofield and Moy in track. Again we were victorious in our W. S. S. campaign—showing our ability to stick to a good precedent. Our Picture Album at the 1920 Carnival was another of our marked successes. Charles Sumner was our faithful leader during these first two years. Socially we had followed the motto, “Children should be seen and not heard,” but when we acquired the title of upperclassmen we burst our bonds and, under the pepful guidance of President Scofield we gave two of the neatest little social events ever scheduled at Paly, the Junior and the Junior-Senior. In athletics we again won fame. Olaine and Moy in football, Card and Draper in baseball, and Scofield, Shaw, Harper and Cowell in basketball were all indispensable to their teams. I bis was a winning year for the N. C. S. and our contribution of Scofield, Olaine, Shaw and Moy was partly responsible for the victory. From the girls we had Doris Holston and Margaret Earle winning honors in basketball and Lois Fox in tennis. I hree of our members were very prominent in student body affairs. Charles Snyder as the first president of the Betterment Committee made an unquestionable success by raising 2000 to improve Paly Hi. At the beginning of the second semester Richard Shaw and Francis Olaine took office as Commissioners. I his is the first time that two Juniors have held this office and in our opinion they did as well as Seniors. [ 19]

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(LITERARY) ABOUT TIME I WOKE UP Or How Joy Came into the World It was a warm day toward the end of June, and with the Palezoic Grade and Grammar School just closed» the little ten year old cave hoy was making the most of his time. All morning he had been chasing flying lizards and blue bottle flies until a young dragon had stung him on the finger. I hen his mother had sent him our to play with the animals, and here he was, busily engaged in twisting forty foot fern leaves into the dinosaur’s rail. “Quit jerkin’ your tail around like that,” said the young caveman (only his language was slightly different for English has changed much in the last fifty thousand years), “I ain’t goin’ to hurt you. Keep still. Ain’t you got no sense?” Me admin- istered a hearty kick, and the dinosaur sighed deeply and subsided hopelessly. He was an old, experienced animal, who had been in the family for generations, and he knew that the day after school closes and the day after it opens arc likely to be bad ones for rail pulling. But he was a loyal creature, and being sluggish from old age, he simply went to sleep. He was a particularly good children’s dinosaur as he had only been known to lose his temper three or four times during his long and honorable life, and even then he only killed two people. So he was admired and petted by the whole tribe, and called “Di,” and had a very easy rime of ir. Now that the dinosaur was quiet the boy was continually pushing him about, first to one side, then to the other. He made such a noise that finally his mother came to the door. “Hi Ther,” she called shrilly, “Hush up. You make so much noise I can’t hear myself chip flints.” Now this small boy’s full name was Hi Ther Yu, but he was generally called simply Hi, so when his mother said Hi Ther”, he knew that she was displeased about something, and he straightway turned over a new leaf. “Well, ma,” he said in a conciliating voice, “I can’t help it. Di won’t do what I want him to do, and I guess 1 got to get these ferns in his tail before midnight, don’t 1?” Like all wise mothers she refused to be thus beguiled into an argument, and went back into the cave, leaving Mi grumbling to himself about the ol’ dinosaur, and how ma was always crabbing about somethin’ fit to make a boa-constrictor choke hisself to death. The truth is that it is very hard to make fern leaves stick in a dinosaur’s tail, as everyone knows who has tried it. Hi had just about decided to quit, when a clever idea struck him. If those leaves wouldn’t stick of themselves he could stick them, so off' he went for some paste. His mother was writing a letter to an old college chum, as he could tell by the regular knock, knock of mallet on stone chisel. Now was the time! The cave had just been done over in tiger skins and the skin hangers had left a pound of flour behind. Hi had watched them mix their paste and knew just how to do it. Everything seemed to be arranged to order. 1 he flour was in a tortoise shell, the tortoise shell lay almost underneath the kitchen tap, and there was even a shin bone to stir it with. In an instant the paste was made, and Hi tiptoed outside and set it down near where Di lay asleep in the sun. The next thing was to use it; but first he would get some fresh fern leaves, because good flour paste is not to be wasted on broken leaves; so off' he set for the edge of the underbrush. It is peculiarly hard to stick to anything the first day of vacation. You are out for a good time and the first thing that attracts your attention is the easiest way to get it. So it was with Hi. He threw rocks at gila monsters, and robbed dodo nests, and made himself a nuisance to the whole neighborhood before he had gotten to the place where the ferns grew. And then when he got there he had lost interest in deco- rating the patient dinosaur, and was looking around for new things to pester. So it is ever with this life. If his mother had found him and denied him the flour paste, he would have made himself miserable for the rest of the day, but as it was he had [21]