Polytechnic High School - Polytechnic Student Yearbook (Los Angeles, CA)

Page 33 text:

ON FRIENDSHIP To a friend of my youth and the ehum of my girlhood I dedicate these lines. Isabel L. Turnbull, W'14. She is a daughter of sunshine and day, I am a child of night. In her hair, crown of glory, the sunbeams play, And her face is filled with the laughter of May. Her eyes were kissed by the first gray dawn That wakes in the woodland the bounding fawn. Her cheeks have caught the faintest blush That over the eastern sky does rush To proclaim the coming of light. She is a child of gladness and love, I am a daughter of dark. The bright crimson glow of the sunset above Islas touched her sweet lips, and the lone white dove Is her emblem of purity, spotless and fair. Ah! hers is the soul to love, and delight In the coming of dawn, fair herald of light. Her song is the song of the lark. I am a lover of moonlight and dreamy She is the Sunbeam bright That speeds to n1y heart a soft warm gleam To draw me back from the starlit stream, Where my soul in solitude walks alone To list -to the pine tree's whispered moan, Where the nightingale's song, so wild, so free, Awakens a longing, a yearning to be A part of the mystic night! 'Tis not because she is as fair as the morn, Or dusky as twilight I. Of far mightier things is a friendship born That brightens two lives, and lifts them, reborn, To a peaceful realm of happy grace, And makes a heaven of the commonplace. For friendship comes when two loving hearts In confidence, sympathy, trust combine. l38l

Page 32 text:

frozen already, I tell you. You are no colder than I am. I can't move, my back is frozen to the wall and one foot hasn 't any shoe, either. But Hogan wasn't listening to him. He had turned his head up the alley, but when a stream of ice cold water ran down his neck, he tore himself loose from the ice, and disappeared in the darkness. Hudson, left alone, tried to hold the stream steady by himself, but already his muscles were stiE, aching, and so tired he thought the hose would drop. Hogan! A pause, then Hogan again from the darkness. Hogan, I say! What is the trouble here? as the captain stumbled up the alley. Hogan is not here. Not here? Where is he? Who is this? I don 't know. This is Hudson. Oh! left, did he? Need any help, Hudson? ' No, I can do it all right, answered Hudson between his chattering teeth. His hands, in their icy covering, were protected from the wind. How warm the ice was! He pressed closer to the wall, letting the ice hold the hose, while he relaxed for the first time. Suddenly the right corner of the building fell, closing the entrance to the alley with a pile of brick and splintered wood. For the first time Huddie noticed that the blaze was out. He saw only the smoke, still rolling from a window near him, but he didn 't care, the stream still played in the window. He was warmer now, he could stand more of it, if necessary. The water stopped whirring from the nozzle, and the spray ceased to drench him. Was it over? Would they never come? Here he is, Hogan. Chop him loose. But it was the captain, not I-Iogan, who rescued him. ik ak ak Where are you going, Huddie? Tell us. Oh, nowhere in particular, he said as he let the door swing shut be- hind him, as he went to the telephone. He gave the familiar number and waited. l I wonder if she has heard. I wonder how she will feel. I wonder- Then came a cheery Hello! l37l

Page 34 text:

Nor petty fault, nor grievance parts Where the love of friendship does entwine Two souls so happily. And yet, Lest we forget, Dear Ileart, I pray, And forgetting, do mar our happy day With thoughts and words that bring regret, May our love prove strong as friend to friend, Be beautiful, perfect, without an end, E'en after our youth 's flown by! JOHNNY 'S BEST FRIEND Harold Tucker, W'l5. The cry mad dog excited the loungers into immediate action. They followed the village marshal, who was carrying a heavy shotgun, down one street and up another in their mad endeavor to kill the harmless, panting, frightened, childrcn's friend. The dog's name was Jack. He had a common name, for he was only a common dog. He had appeared in the town one chilly morning-shaggy, thin, and shivering. He was friendless, but friendly, and it was not long until he met Johnny, whom he rescued-not from a mere bodily danger-but from one much worse, the disease of lonesomeness. Jack and Johnny were comrades, Jack was Johnny's best friend. The dog ran to a haven of safety. I-Ie ran up the narrow back stairs that led to Johnny's home and burst in upon his playmate. Such rejoicing, such happiness-but short was the time it lasted. The leader of the crazy, puffing mob demanded the dog. The village mar- shal is all powerful, and he snapped a chain on Jack's only earthly possession, a measly leather collar, and led him to the door. The dog hesitated, he stopped, and with sorrowful eyes he turned to pay a tribute to his last master. The door opened and closed. The smothered sobbing of a child was the only sound to be heard. l39l