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

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I'W0 DO0BSencl A BLO DE ! 7:52 YVEET papa! Look, John, in the window there! ig Now she's what I'd call a classy Hen1'ietta. What K. sayest thou, yea or nay? If HYea, Jolm absently responded. After a --. ii second look he appeared interested. '4Uh boy!- She is cute, isnit she! VVe agree, Buddy, for l once. series' A . --' Buddy and John we1'e standing on the walk south of the Liberal Arts building. To stroll about the campus the latter part of the lunch period had become with tl1e1n as regular a habit as eating. Object they had none. It was too warm for gang fights on the front lawn, and long past the season of the noon period daily junior vs. senior battles. There was nothing to dog nothing even to talk about. A dull, deadening late spring day is a disease. The two boys had made the rounds once and found the entire school smothered in a sln'oud of perfect peace and content. They had discussed, cussed, and discussed again every matter of importance, a11d some of their teachers. It was here, however, that the excessive heat began seriously to affect their mentality. Outside this window they stood in open admiration of her, whom the reader must accept as the unanimous choice of the two boys and the writer as the heroine of this story. Through the open window drifted an assortment of groans and grammar and sweet voices and occasionally a piece of chalk or an eraser. One lonely wad of tightly rolled tinfoil whizzed aimlessly past 0116 of Buddy's ears, resulting in the retreat of both boys from the danger zone. Un the terrace north of the lNIain building they' settled down to talk and to adnlire the girl in the classroom. 'cThis is a case where distance makes my heart get sillyf' Buddy modestly admitted that this beautiful thought was not his own. but quoted from Shakespeare. 4'Do you know her, Buddy?n John asked. Boy, I'd be in Heaven if I did. She sure am cute, n'cst-cc pas? Twe nty-sfx

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I I'IEIIOR.l1lI12R.LSM ' 5232 He is not here to gladden hearts VVith bursts of song Of April days, Bleniories, a sunset, Al1tl1lI1I1,S gold, Yet in each haunting symphony of words VVe find the sweetness Of a rose, And like the rose The memory of its fragrance Lingers when the flower is gone. The Dawn Winfll' .steals into our hearts And finds there sadness Touched with peace That one so young is gone, Yet leaves, as do the dimming' stars, Bright dewdrops - sparkling - clear - That will not fade Beneath the sun of Time, But stay fast-fixed To be our constant joy. Twenty

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L1 fl':1,iTfg'I?gB by DO +DE UIUI' Did you ever see a cuter glance than the one she gave nie when we first canie up? You,re right, Buddy. Iill take your word about that glance, but I can see for myself she's a wonder for looksf' ' Both boys had entered L. B. P. H. S. as new students at thc beginning of their senior year. A classroom acquaintanceship led to a noon period friendship. Other than this, they had nothing ini co111n1on. Buddy and John had always represented the two extremes, Budy was the ladies' inang John, the shrinking violet. John now found himself on foreign ground. He ab1'uptly dived for safety. Say, he began, '4what'd she assign for lilonday? Did she say weld have that exani lllonday or Tuesday? HI can't get sentiniental with you talking about French. Je n1'en ficheg who cares about that test anyway? Whistle once, John, and sce if she won't look over heref' VVhy not you? It's nothing in inypyoung life if that girl looks over here or not. John didn't sound very fierce about it. He was deterinined, however, to adnlit no further interest. Better not whistle, Buddy. You'd probably get the teacher, not the girl. I've got itg Iill toss this pebble in there. That wouldn't attract as much attention as whistlingf, t'Naw, cut it out. VVe don't want to get run out of here. This is good enough nowf, Buddy turned to John with a look of disgust. You're sure a rotten sport, John. Are you scared of girls or what? Why don't you conie to life? VVhy inan, inang if I had your car and half your chances thereld be nothing could hold ine down. Around the fellows you're all right, but you have to be a S1J01't to get anywhere with the wonienfi Buddy said things he didn't intend to have hurt as they generally ' rx - -Q I by his tactless reniarks. John choked down his anger, but Buddy had cut deep-deeper than John let him see. Sportsmanship was a religion with John. Twenty-seven