Richmond High School - Shield Yearbook (Richmond, CA)

Page 28 text:

EVE ASN a Ss D RoW Be S BA Q= SZ aE Sei Y S i SURPRISE! Trme—Anytime. PLacE—Any home. The curtain rises and Marge is seen sitting on the sofa waiting for Bill, her boy friend. The room is furnished like that of any family of moderate means. The door-bell rings and Marge goes to door to admit Bill. Bill comes in, throws his hat and coat on the sofa and sits down. Brtt—H’lo, Marge, I’ve got a surprise for ya. What do you want for your birth- day? Marce—What would I like for my birthday? Oh, Bill, you know I'll simply adore anything you give me. Besides its no use telling you ’cause you’ve probably already picked out some darling gift for me. Brtt—l’1l bet you can’t guess what it is. Give ya three guesses. Marce—( Pondering) Let me see now... An evening bag? I'll just bet you’re giving me one of those gorgeous evening bags that we saw at Smith’s. (Bill shakes his head ). Marce—(Surprised) No? Well then I'll bet it’s those perfectly ducky earrings I showed you the other day. (Again Bil! shakes his head). Marce—( Disappointed) It’s not? My, this is getting hard... Oh. now I know! It’s a traveling bag with silver fittings! Because when I told you the other day that I craved one you looked so wise. Brtt— (Shaking his head )—Nope! You're all wrong. You'll never guess. Marce—(Crestfallen) It isn’t? Well honestly, Bill, I can’t think of another thing. Go on tell me what it is. Bill brings a package from his side and says—It’s an umbrella. Marce—(Amazed)—An umbrella? You don’t mean an um——. Well. honest- ly, Bill, not that I don’t think an umbrella is an awfully cute present, but really, I never go out in the rain! I always take a taxi. Gosh, it certainly is a good thing I asked you, ‘cause now you can take it back and get some- thing more practical. Of course, Pll just be thrilled to death with anything you give me, but I’m sure you wouldn’t want to give me anything I can’t use, would you, honey ? (Marge exists hurriedly with the umbrella and the curtain falls with Bill standing dumbfounded in the center of the room). GLENN Apams, 1-12 FATE A great forest defies a storm wind’s lash That strips the russet leaves: But let a flash Of lightning cross the sky and on the heels Of thunder may be heard a monarch’s crash. ——Toshitatsu Adachi, 2-1]

Page 27 text:

4 ZF vr 4 ALI Mit ILLENIUM Sonc OF LIFE A LETTER Oxtp Mission RUINS Tue TERM REPORT A SOLILOQUY ). K. on K. O.? f st

Page 29 text:

AC AA! | a MILLENIUM Oh, it is hard to think, Engraved upon the scroll? E’en when it’s drawn in ink Wars always take their toll A world of peace, Of our men’s lives, A world so full of hate And leave within their wake To be destined by fate For greed and vengeance sake, From war to cease. Sorrowing wives. Could e’er a land like ours, Why not one race and tongue? Oftentimes ruled by Mars, And the same anthem sung Extend its hands The planet o’er? In amity so pure, Can’t we let go of pride, In friendship, or, so sure, And try to stem war’s tide To other lands? Forevermore? The book of Time records So let our strivings be, Accounts of guns and swords Throughout eternity, And battles fought; For mutual love. But leave all that behind, Until we peaceful live For who would want to find God will no blessing give Deeds we have wrought From heav’n above. Alden Pratt, 2-11 SONG OF LIFE A LETTER In revolt aga SU Md aut Mj hitman’s Have vou ever had to write in verse, “Carol of Death” ) eae Ue eee er, : ' : in words both briet, concise ana terse, Sing to me of life triumphant; And know your grade would crack and Sing of life’s despair or grief; shatter Sing of deeds or meditations, And nothing you could do would matter? But sing not to me of death. Have you ever had to write an ode Death is cold and uninspiring: fo me, just words put in a code Death is treacherous and cruel; That has no meaning. sense or rhyme Death takes all without regretting, And which to write takes all your time? Leaving naught but tears and grief. ; Have you ever had to write a jingle Life is war and throbs with fervor; And if your best thoughts didn’t mingle Life is opportunity ; Know that you would get a tannin’-— Death is vague with promises, but Did you ever have to, Miss Buchanan? Life is a reality! Sincerely and poetically yours, —Mary Romero, 2-11. Ralph Bergen, 2-11. OLD MISSION RUINS The old white walls are ruined now; The church, of all its glory shorn, No longer straight they stand. With grass a-growing through the door, Trees, planted by the Padres, bow Now makes the Mission more forlorn O’er heaps of drifting sand. And seals its doom forevermore. —Loretta Andrade, 2-11. WW MUll