Polytechnic High School - Caerulea Yearbook (Long Beach, CA)

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CERULEA An understanding gleam crept inlo her eye. What if it i:. she said. her irritation rising. th me down from here and I'll explain everything. James Lane said you told his aisle: you were going wilh Sam. Did you or not? 1 did. snapped Beau. Well. I'm sorry, said Dick. carefully. but if you've decided to go to that wid-A him. I have an important matter that I have to attend to right away. So long! See you tomorrow! Dick! Dickl Come back here! Come back. I say! shrieked Bus. fesaining her balance with difEcuhy. Now tell rm.- whal you're driving at. she demanded. It is this way. said Dick. I limply can nai let you down from there until you promise to accept my invitation to Ilul reception. You can stay there on your lofty perch and take chances of someone panning befote morning. or. come down mm and send Sam Burn- : note of regret. Take your choice I Bess looked up and down the duerhcd street. Th: mere thought of staying in the building lungcr made her shudder, and with a little laugh she said. Dick Bartley. you pirate! Put that lldder over here and I'll come down. Dorothea Haake . I9 I 2. IE To: the Mama 0h, Moon. moat glorious and bright. We luv: to ice Thee shine at night. Among the: myriad: of Iran. Thy splendor falls for many hour: 011 castles gray. on domes and towerl. The light of Thy angclic face I; looked upon by every race. The sun may nL the stars may fill, But still thy smile is over all: Though oft obscured by stronger light Chm always were a :hild of night, It stem- to me thal life would be One weary waste. 'twerc nut for Thee. Vivian Kraus. I915. 1' wentth ree

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Where Thereps a1 Willll Themgg a1 Way HE. SWiu Family big reception and dance to the Seniors was to take place in less than two weeks. One morn- ing, Bess received two notes. each hearing the Family monogram, One was from Sammy Burns. a favorite of the achocI.-the other was from Dick. Bela smiled tenderly: Dick who had taken her to every important event of the four happy years of High School. Which should Ihe accept? She knew she ought to nccept Dielt'l,-he expected her lo.-but oh the glory of being invited by Sam Burns, football hero and clan president! She would go with him just this once and make it up to Dick some other way. She gathered up her back: end started oH' tn school. where Ihe told her churn about the invitations. That afternoon. Bess stayed to Eninh her Botany notem The fourthirty all out bell runs. but Bess worked on. unheeding. so occupied that she did not hear the ianitor's step in the hall. She started when he shut the door, and heard the click of the lock. and mhed to it. only to hear him go whistling dawn the hall and slam the outside door. She ran to the window and called. Mr. Bill! Mr. Billet Come back! No reply. Bees drew away from the window and considered the situation. There were no means of exit from the mom excepting the door. which was locked. and the windowm which were eighteen feet from the ground. Bess pulled a chair up to a window. and putting her hooks before her tried to work. lookingmp every few minute: to m if anyone wa: pausing. An houreage: passed! How clerk it WII getting! Suddenly she sprang to her feel and called in an hysterical voice of relief: Dick BanleyliHelloa-a. Dick! See where I am! Oh. come get me downu-t'm locked up! Hold out Don't fall out. I'm coming. and Dick Bartley ran up to the well under the Window. Bel: explained her predicament and he went in search of a ladder. He was won back. dragging a long ladder. Thia he very slowly and carefully set up inst oul af reach of her window: then. pulling his cap lowerm to hide the grin-coolly sat dawn on the ground. Why, Dick Hartley! gasped Bess. What's the matter? Put that ladder over here so I can get down r Not until you've explnined a few things. said Dick. She looked at him in aatonilhment. I heard. he rammed. that you are going to that dance with Burnl. I: thlt so? Twmytwo

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The Stew That: Was NM Hamdledl Him T was: seven o'clock. the little cuckoo clock in the corner had just called out the hour. Ann was hunched up in a corner of the Davenport with a pad of paper before her, chewing her penciI abstractedly. and searching her mind for a plat for a story. Oh! for an idea, an ideal As the little clock chimed out the hour she merely sent a discontented glance in its directiont and settled down deeper into the cmnemf the big lounge. She just musl think of a good story for the echool-paper tonight; all material had to be in by tomorrow and here it was seven o'clock already. She had never written a prizerwinning story for the school-paper. and she did so want a prize. and nol just the usual uhormrz-lhle menliun. The little clock leered at he! from its corner and Ann scowled back from hers. uDun't y'PWtSh y'ueknew a story? jeered the clock. Don't y'ue-wish y'ui knew a story? Horrid little monster! muttered Ann vindictively. and then rem. lutely turned her back on the clock. Then. :udctenly. like a streak of lightning. Hashed the idea. Oh. it was a great idea. a dream of an ideat Ann began to write quickly for fear it might escape her. Her pencil raced hack and forth acms the paper. for getting periods and commas in her eagerness. It was a very happy Ann. who an hour later wrate the last word and dotted the last period of a beautiful, new story. As she read it over ta be certain she had not forgotten period: and capitals. a sudden fear assailed her mind. and though she tried to disregard it. it again aserted itself. The story had such an air of accustomedness: each turn of the plot seemed so familiar. What was the trouble? Had the lead it somewhere. she wondered. Had she unknowingly used a story that was not her own? Rehelliausty, the resolved to hand it in anyway. But she could not overcome her fear. What if it shouldn't be hers? What if someone else shuuld find out it waa copied? What would they think if they found out she had stolen a story for Cardinal and White? Her decision was made. If it were not hers. :he would be a thief. and she was not aurhnot sure it was hers. So she lucked her story away in her desk. Next morning. searching among tile: of old magazines for a reference. she found the ttory she had copied. She read it through. Yes. then was no doubt about it. it wai her story. She unlocked her desk and took out her story. and read it again. Then she tore it up into little. tiny hitsy Never mind. Ann. comforted the liltle clock. grown strangely sympa- thetic over-nighl. No. said Ann, trying bravely not to cry. I ciurfl miud-much. That afternoon the material went to prets without a story from Ann Wentwolth. Lillian Roberts. 19'2. Twenty-laur