Santa Ana High School - Ariel Yearbook (Santa Ana, CA)

Page 12 text:

Page Twelve Song of the :Brook On and on to the river, - Gliding and falling with grace, Now rushing to waken the niinnows, Now Howing with calm, slow pace, The little brooklet, Howing along, Sings this happy, rippling song, On and on to the river. On and on through the meadows, Calling the birds from their nests, Under the dew laden grasses, Bending in glittering crests, The little brooklet's onward flow I Sings in accents sweet and low, On and on to the river. On and on through the woodland, 'Neath tall oaks and aspen trees, Waving their leafy banners In the gentle breeze, The little brooklet 'Among wild flowers, Sings o'er this song through passing hours,- On and on to the river. On and on to the river! This song is heard no more. For the brook 'ripples on with its Over a rocky Hoor. And the brooklet cries to the city, 'fLook, people! Look at ine! I'm traveling on with the river, Down to the great, wide sea. partner jizwiirr. Hickox, 'I7B

Page 11 text:

ARIEI- as looked at it wistfully. Oh, Ned, dear, I wish I knew what was going on in your precious brain. Two months later Rosalie graduated from college. She wore sk rr rk :sf Pk . Two months later Rosalie graduated from college. She wore her cap and gown with new dignity and through the gala week never forgot Ned who, by rights, should also have received his degree. june had passed and it was late in September when Ned received a letter from her that left him duinbfounded. She had taken a posi- tion in the public schools of a little town some distance from home. You think, she wrote, that I'm a spoiled daughter of luxury. l'll show you! Teaching the American child is delightful but no joke. Everyone of the dear kiddies is as much a problem as any of your beloved mathematics, but l'm here for business and 1 mean to make good Y Ned read the letter through twice, a growing tenderness shone in his tanned faceg the hopelessness of the past weeks rolled away and a great light illuminated his understanding. lt was almost spring vacation time again. llridal wreath and plum blossoms rivalled each other in showering the world with white fragrance. Coming home one afternoon from a tiresome day in hot, crowded school rooms, Rosalie found Ned awaiting her. A half wondering, Neill One glance at the sunburned face, and she felt strong arms lifting her out of the work and loneliness of the months past. Coi1fess, dear, that you didn't trust me, she told him later. You thought that I could waste my life i11 the senseless whirl of society while you were fighting a man's battle! O, Ned! Girls have hearts and souls l A silence, then Ned's voice, tender but very firm, Now is the only time of year for a bride. And another springtime is so far off,'l whispered Rosalie. And Ned agreed. Sorting HARDY, 'I3. , .Page Eleven

Page 13 text:

'IN Uiomancc of 'Ilocms T was very lonely at Locksley Hall. Pauline had gone to visit an uncle. Daniel Wheeler lived by The Lakeside, and her brother, John Underhill, was left alone in The Great Housev with only Danny Deever, the gardener, and Maud, the Gardener's Daughter. Three of the maids, Annabel Lee, Lucy Gray,', and Barbara Frietchief' had gone with Pauline, The other servants were dismissed for the summer. Why it was that John Underhill preferred to spend Hours of Idleness' in The Garden of Locksley Hall in Dreaming -or writing Odes, when he might have spent the Midsummer on The Sea or in Castles in Spain, was beyond the knowledge of Bill and Joe, his bosom friends. Yet, if they had gone to The Hill-top near Locksley Hall that first day of Summer, they might have seen a beautiful Strange Lady walk up The River Path with her arms full of Sweet-Fern and MfayHowers. She was the reason why John remained in The Deserted Village long after his friends had said Farewell and had gone to seek Pleasure,' in other lands. She was Evelyn Hope, The Only Daughter of Lord Randall, and had grown weary of traveling and had come to the woods for Silence and Rest Now it was Knee Deep in June, and still she was the Strange Lady to John, and Locksley Hall seemed lonelier than ever after The Dream of An Early Paradise. At last, one day The Meeting came. John, on An Excursion with his Pets, The Twa Dogs, came to The Palace of Art, or so it seemed to him. Under The Oak, with canvas 'and pencil, sat Evelyn drawing Descriptive Sketches. The sunlight streamed thru' the foliage upon her Golden Tresses and he thought of The Dream. The Days Departed and now The Two Voices might be heard among The Pines and The Sycamoresn as they went for An Evening Walk by The Brook or went for a ride in The One-Hoss Shay. At last the Autumn came and The Last Leaf and The Last Blossom withered. The Winter Roses bloolned and faded. The Fountain froze, and The First Snow Fall came, and now the Twilight Hours were spent By the Fireside. Page Thirteen