Petaluma High School - Trojans Yearbook (Petaluma, CA)

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PETALUMA SCHOOL SPIRIT NE after another all thru the long October morn¬ ing, the long, dust be¬ grimed excursion trains pulled up to the station, and out from each car piled a happy horde of boys and girls gay in their flaunting colors, waving pennants and wearing happy smiles. It was the typical field day crowd. Over at Kenilworth the huge grand¬ stand was filling to overflowing. The rooting sections were already getting into action and in quick staccato accents were promising dire calamities to all rivals. Tape in hand a half dozen boys were hustling up and down the track measur¬ ing distances, and tacking cards here and there upon the fence. Presently a defic¬ iency was discovered, one hurdle was missing. Burton, the Petaluma captain, was consulted and he recalled that one hurdle had been left out behind the High School, for practice at recess. Burton started across the field at a live¬ ly clip. Directly in his way was a board fence. Burton attempted to hurdle it and and when in the air he remembered that the fence was placed as a guard for an old well, not very deep, and dry at this time of the year. Burton crashed thru the rotten boards placed across the top of the well and landed unhurt but somewhat shaken in the bottom of the well. But let us leave Burton in his plight and return to the meet. And such a meet as it was! One aftar another old records passed into history, and new ones came to take their places. Old champions struggled bravely, and went down to de¬ feat before “phenominal dark horses.” But the real contest of the day was be¬ tween Petaluma and Santa Rosa High Schools. These two schools early outdis¬ tanced all competitors and each struggled spiritedly for the lead. But, one first place Petaluma was sure of. If they could only hold their own until the mile run the meet was theirs; for Captain Bur¬ ton at this distance was invincible. But where was Burton? “Burton! Burton! What’s the matter with Burton?” came from the Petaluma bleachers, followed by a buzz of inquiry. A half dozen searching parties detached themselves from the Pet¬ aluma rooters, but one after another these parties returned with no word of Burton. Finally a Santa Rosa boy chanced to stray a little way from the grandstand and heard a muffled cry for help. He di¬ rected his footsteps toward the old well and glanced in. Only glanced, for one glance was enough. Many a time had he seen Burton dash down the field and break the tape a full hundred yards in ad¬ vance of the nearest Santa Rosa man. He concluded that the old well was a good place for Burton for the present. Some “mean old thing” has said that woman is the root of all evil. In my story she is to be the root of some little good. The Santa Rosa boy walked jauntily over to the grandstand, a mysteriously happy smile upon his face. He clambered up in¬ to the Petaluma rooting section, and seak ed himself beside the “one girl,” who was the “one girl” even if she did go to Peta¬ luma High. Then after obtaining many promises not to tell he proceeded to un¬ burden himself of his great secret. The score boards announced P. H. S.—. 51; S. R. H. S.—51, and only the mile to run. The Santa Rosa section was wild. The Petaluma section was all confusion. ‘ Third and last call for the mile run,” tae 23

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P. H. S. ENTERPRISE ’ll by several stories that she was a good rider. It was a merry party that started oft ' the next morning, for everyone seemed in the best of spirits. Poor Brown, however, looked as though he had not slept much, and I began to feel sorry for him, and wish he could have a chance to apologize. He addressed a few questions to Molly and she answered them, much to the sur¬ prise of all the company, and each time more graciously. I, who was riding with her could see mischief in her eye, and wondered greatly what she would do. We reached our destination, a tavern up in the mountains, shortly before noon. After having lunch we spent part of the afternoon there, and then left for home. We were to go a little way on the road on which we had come up, and then branch off in a longer way back to the hotel. On the way up, Molly had been very anxious to keep ahead, but on the return trip, she graciously consented to let Brown ride with her. I felt that some¬ thing w r ould happen, but was entirely in the dark as to what it would be. As we came to the crossroads, Molly said her girth w r as loose and young Brown quickly dismounted to fix it. Molly beg¬ ged us not to w ait so we rode on. As soon as we were out of sight, Molly gave Brown’s horse a cut with her whip and it started on a run down the shorter load, for home. Then Molly gave her own horse a touch, and with a scornful glance at Brown, left him. She soon caught up with us, and was asked where Brown was. “Oh,” she said, “he’s coming.” He did not come, however, and all were anxious and also curious. Mrs. Norton, however, did not seem to think anything of it, so nothing was said. Late that evening as we were sitting in the parlor, the door opened and Brown stood on the threshold. He was a sorry looking figure and we all realized that he had walked home. Molly, to our great surprise, walked over to him and held out her hand. ‘‘We are even, now,” she said. Then she told us w ' hat she had done. The second question was now settled. We knew quite well what Molly’s charact¬ er was. Geraldine Boothe, ’12. CUPID IN VASSAR This year something new was attempted in the line of dramatics in the High School. Instead of the customary play given by the Seniors for the benefit of the Enterprise, a musical comedy, ‘‘Cupid in assar, was produced. The play was managed by the Senior Class but the cast was chosen by the coach, Mr. Barry 1 ownsley, from the school after tryouts for the various roles had been held. In this way the best talent available in the school was selected. The play was a complete success, ar¬ tistically and financially. There were no delays, no prompting, and the whole af¬ fair went off with the snap and dash that is characteristic of a professional per¬ formance rather than of a production by amateurs. The leading roles called for portrayals of real human emotions rather more than in the ordinary farce-comedy anc these were taken with conviction and real delic¬ acy. The choruses, music and the stage pictures did much to add to the attract¬ iveness of the lines. The audience seem¬ ed to enjoy the comedy, and sympathize with the different tragic situations fully. The criticisms have been most favorable and congratulatory to the cast and the ooach. 22

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P. H. S. ENTERPRISE ’ll announcer bellowed thru the megaphone. Out upon the track a half dozen Petaluma boys were pleading with the clerk of the course. But alas, he too was from Santa Rosa. He couldn’t find anything in tho rules that said a race might be held for a contestant, who did not appear at third call. Up in the grandstand a purple and white bedecked girl tightly held on to the grandstand and answered in monosyl¬ lables the very engaging talk of the young man from Santa Rosa. “Come on your mark!” the long row of white clad figures waiting for the pistol. Then the Petalu¬ ma girl suddenly discovered that she had a great thirst. The ever obliging Santa Rosa boy dashed under the grandstand hoping to get a bottle of soda water and be back by the time the race started. The Petaluma girl waited until he was out of sight. Then she dashed down and said a few hasty words to the Petaluma yell leader, “Burton is in the old well!” The news spread like wild fi re thru the grandstand. The starter paused with his pistol in the air. In ten seconds every person in the grandstand was crowding about the old well. Of course Burton won the mile. How could he lose, w ' hen everyone in th ? grandstand (except a few from Santa Rosa,) w as rooting for him. They carried him off the field on their shoulders while the Petaluma yell leader was busy ex¬ plaining to a young man from Santa Rosa how he just happened to hear a muffled cry for help coming from the old well, and recognized it as Burton’s voice. Harry Brown. Our New Teacher When we returned to high school, .After our vacation day, We found our dear Miss Perkins, Had left and gone away. So the board of education, A substitute did find, In Miss de Laguna, A miss of learned mind. With Latin derivations. She kept our brain awhirl; In Botany Charlotte couldn’t see the question, And didn’t know w’hat to do; So she tipped her chair far over, Just to get a better view. But the chair kept on tipping. Tipping, slipping, sliding o’er; Till with a crash res unding, She did land upon the floor, And introduced us to the dictionary, As a very precious pearl. Five weeks she lingered with us, lill in Greek and Latin we were learned; But Alas! our Senior English, I fear was sadly spurned. But now we are quite happy, Because a teacher has been found; Who instead of ancient languages, Teaches English clear and sound. Examination Or did the floor hit her? Whichever of the two it was, It did make quite a stir. Then with a f ace quite crimson, She sprang quickly to her feet; With tingling ears and aching limbs, She silently took her seat. 24