Petaluma High School - Trojans Yearbook (Petaluma, CA)

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16 as she held in check an antiquated donkey of a horse, hitched to a buggy in keeping with the same. We would never have recognized her but Jack said: “Don’t you remember your old classmates, of whom we have fre¬ quently spoken at home? We found ourselves greeting the popular Ida Perinoni of former days. She was in a great hurry but took time to tell us that her former chum Lizzie Haran was a missionary among the Hottentots of Africa. Anderson re¬ marked, in open mouthed amazement, that it was a wonder that they had not eaten Lizzie long before this, while in the same breath, he asked the old man if he had tried Foster’s reliable cure for baldness. John brought the whip down with a thud on the afore described horse and dashed away in a cloud of dust. We had barely left the Haystack ere we found ourselves in Petaluma, now extended and grown into a large and flourishing city. We boarded an electric car and in a few moments found ourselves at the Palace Hotel. The minute we had registered a handsome, middle-aged gentleman with his reporter’s pad, strolled over to us to make a note of the new ar¬ rivals for that day. There was some¬ thing familiar about him that remind¬ ed us of some former friend but be¬ fore “speculation had become at too great odds” he had taken out an eye¬ glass and after a long and seemingly satisfactory stare, walked leisurely to¬ ward us, diamonds, gold-headed cane, plug hat, Prince Albert coat and all. Extending his li ly-white hand in the most approved Parisian style he said: “Ah, allow me to welcome you home in behalf of Petaluma.” “Martin Poehlmann,” fairly gasped Allie. We were about to question him con¬ cerning some of the rest of our form¬ er classmates, as he seemed to have so much more time than poor hen¬ pecked Lauritzen, when to our un¬ bounded amazement, he suddenly turned upon his heel muttering some¬ thing about the “Courier” going to press and a wish to get in an item regarding our return. We were great¬ ly puzzled over his behavior until it suddenly dawned upon us that he was a reporter for the Courier. We were feeling positively disgust¬ ed when Allie suddenly remarked that he would give almost anything to see Gene once more and listen spell¬ bound as of yore to her ceaseless flow of news. As he remarked this, my eyes, which were aimlessly wan¬ dering over the professional cards displayed upon the walls, suddenly fell upon a neatly engraved card bear¬ ing the following suggestive inscrip¬ tion: Genevieve Martinelli, attor¬ ney at law. Divorce cases expedi¬ tiously attended to at bedrock prices. Upon inquiry we found that the of¬ fice of Genevieve Martinelli, attorney at law, was over Hop Sing Lee’s laundry. We hastened to that part of the city, clambered the creaking stairs with no small risk to our necks, knocked at the dilapidated door and were ushered into the pres¬ ence of the famous divorce lawyer, Martinelli. We found her half buried in legal-looking documents while her plate-glass spectacles were covered with a week’s dust. She was forced to remove the latter before being able to see us. She recognized us at once, greeted us warmly and of¬ fered us chairs. A few moments lat¬ er with her tongue loosed at both ends and running like a steam trip hammer, rattling off legal expressions and quotations from Vergil’s Ae- neid,” Genevieve was giving us the life history of several of our former classmates. We had not been in that law office ten minutes before we had learned all the particulars of the second divorce of Ada Stone and had also been in¬ formed of the fact that she was soon to embark upon the matrimonial sea for the fourth time as a third husband had just died a most natural death. Gene told us very confidentially that Ada made an exceedingly pretty wid¬ ow which accounted for the fact that Martin had chosen her in spite of her former ventures. Emma Hyatt was

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....CXass TvopViec .... By RAY CORLISS ’04. It was the month of June, 1934. The burning sun beamed down upon a beautiful river, whereon a little old cumbrous, chugging steamer was winding its tortuous way, guided with infinite pains by its weazened old captain. At every turn, memories of the days gone by came to two of us who were nervously pacing the litter¬ ed deck. For here was Point Pedro with its John Chinaman fishermen tending their odorous shrimps and there was Lakeville with its miles of mud flats and now again as we round¬ ed a bend there loomed into view the long forgotten but familiar sight of the rock-crusher. To us the view was but a half-form¬ ed vision, for were we not returning from far distant Arabia to the town of our childhood? We two dusky knights of that sun-scorched land of the Bedouins, chieftains each of a thousand horses, graduates of the Petaluma High School, class of ’04, had traveled many thousands of miles in order to interview the world-re¬ nowned specialist, Dr. J. Walter Fos¬ ter, Ml D., with regard to a cure for the bite of an ostrich. This learned gentleman had earned his world-wide reputation by concocting uncertain ointments which, when applied to the exposed parts, acted as a coat of arm¬ or against the vengeful bite of the Petaluma fowl. My companion, Allie Anderson, had long been troubled by the ostrich’s at¬ tacking his bold cavalry. He had been forced to build a walled city from which neither he nor any of his men had ventured for more than five years. To make this trip Allie had es¬ caped from the city at the dead of night some two months previous. At the very thought of obtaining re¬ lief for himself and his suffering fol¬ lowers, he paced faster and faster as he neared the long-sought goal. Sud¬ denly his progress was arrested by a headlong measurement of the deck, caused by falling over a diminutive box. As I feared for the safety of the box, I picked it up before Allie had regained his sea legs. Imagine my surprise at seeing the well-remem¬ bered miserable scrawl of a former classmate of ours, one May Purvine, and what surprised me more, she still retained the old-time name—Purvine. As we were gingerly handling the box cigars or laces, the captain rushed and speculating as to whether it held up, white with fear and in a sobbing voice censured us for our careless¬ ness, saying in part that that old maid was particularly cranky about the condition of her returned ship¬ ping coops. Upon further question¬ ing we found that she was in the habit of shipping her chickens as soon as hatched from the incubator, as the danger from fire and rats at home was great. At this juncture the captain bellow¬ ed forth the magic word ' ‘Petaluma.” We were rushing down the gang plank when a burly form pushed us aside, and cried in a querulous voice, “Here captain, give me that half egg case of mine. You know my wife!” Allie said to me in an undertone as he gave me a rib-breaking nudge, “Bagdad! I do believe that’s old Lauritzen.” Sure enough it was, but it was plain to see that he dared not stop to talk with us, so we wonder- ingly followed in his wake. Around the curve we came to his “frau” who was impatiently nursing her wrath

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17 found to have been teaching an un¬ graded school of five pupils for the past twenty-five years, among the sand hills of Bodega. She had con¬ scientiously drawn her salary at the end of every month and had soundly whipped her pupils at the end of each week. Emma had had many admirers and several years before had taken the final step and engaged herself to be married to a young man of great wealth. The wedding day drew near, the pupils were grief stricken, the very birds of the air hung their heads and wept, while solemn long-eared jackrabbits groaned at the very thought of losing their beloved Emma. But the worst was not to be. On the day of the wedding a beautiful day in June, as the strains of the wedding march came floating mistily through the air, a wild despairing cry broke from the lips of the bridegroom as he sank to the floor, never to rise again, struck down the doctor’s said by a love too great to bear. Gene went on to say that Emma had gone back to teaching and was living with her dearest friend. Ruby McGuire, now a grandmother. Ruby had married a farmer and was a typi¬ cal picture of a fleshy, good-natured farmer’s wife. At one time she had had musical aspirations, but has con¬ tented herself and exercised her tal¬ ent for the last thirty years in calling the fowls to their meals twice a day, year in and year out. The climax was reached when we were told that Nellie Burns had married an Italian count and was living in the height of luxury at Rome, envied by all the Italian beauties and the idol of all Rome because of her musical ability. Gene told us that the Countess Nel¬ lie had but just completed a tour of the world and was even at that time in the capital of France. It was at this juncture that Allie re¬ membered the object of our mission and asked of the renowned chicken doctor, Mr. Foster. We learned that he had long been troubled with some slight complaint and was in the habit of taking medicine at night as well as day to effect a speedy cure. One night he had gotten a bottle of his own medicine by mistake and taken it internally. The next morning he was found to be past recovery. He had left no formula for his sought-for ointment nor any of his stock on the market, and to make matters worse, had consumed the last drop of his own stock on that fatal night of his demise. A client entering the office, we wished Miss Martinelli a good after¬ noon, and boarded a city-bound train and took the first steamer for home, the home of the Bedouins, of Allie and me. EDITORIAL. We take this opportunity of ex¬ pressing our gratitude to our teachers who, by their constant efforts, have devoted heart and soul to enable us to attain the grand ideal of this class¬ ical department. Chas Martin, Pres. H. Schluckebier Vice Pres. J. H. Gwinn, Cashier. U. H. Tomasini, Ass’t Cashier. PETALUMA NATIONAL BANK. Transacts a general banking business Interest paid on time deposits. PETALUMA ROCHDALE STORE Best of Groceries and Provisions Bloom building Kentucky St. J .C. DAVIS For a good Harness and General repairing. 740 Main St. P. JOS. STEIGER Sporting Goods and Bicycles 848 Main St., Petaluma