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

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Ebe Yyroabianb 'Easy 'Ilatb T was circus day in a small city of the East. The usual parade drew its quota of the city's population. Among the many eager boys and grls who keenly enjoyed its wonders was a group, averaging perhaps twelve years of age. The members of this band, wfho were always togeher, had nervously fidgeted in their seats in school throughout the morning until dismissed and now they were leaders in the procession which trooped after the shrill calliope that brought up the rear of the parade. Let's all 'ditch' school this afternoon and go to the show, sug- gested one boy. All right, responded several others. All the boys except one agreed to play hookey that afternoon and see the circus. This boy, james Wharton, did not speak. ' Ain't you goin', 'Jimmie'? No, I can't go this afternoon. Father told me I could go tonight with mother and him if I would go to school this afternoon. Aw, come on and go with the bunch. Be a sport, Jimmie, nobody will ever know the dilTerence, came from several members of the band. But I haven't any m-oney, except a little in my bank that I was savin' for a new ball, Ji-mmie replied. Don't be a sissy, Jimmie, have a little fun. Jimmie, for the fir-st time disobeyed his parents, and that after- noon went to the circus. Ik :lf :lr is Pk Pk Six years later in the same city a group of young men were gath- ered around a table. On this table were several small piles of playing cards. The room was full of tobacco smoke and -now and then pro- fane language was heard from tvhe various players. Among them was James Wharton. Dk 2? Pl! :lf 244 Dk Some five or six years later a young man entered the back room of a California saloon. I say young, but already dissipation and vice had marked his features. He was soon engaged in one of the games in progress there. It was james Wharton, now an outcast and exile Page Fifteen

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V' RE Y V mf 1 , X K f. A I L Xe But all Holidays must end. It was time for Evelyn to join her father at St. John's, Cambridge -and yet The Farewell was never spoken. The Promise was given one Rainy Day, when he said, My Love, you know What I Have Come For. The Bells rang and the Bridal Ballad was sung. The Strange Lady became The Bride of the man who was no longer lonely at Locksley Hall. GENEVIIQVE WOERNER, '13. Ebe math of Spring The winds, once icy cold, Are soft as eyes that adore, ' And the clear peet peter of the meadow lark is sweeter Than ever it seemed before. The Sun calls his nymphs about him, To await the coming of Breeze, Then down Hoats each fairy, by kisses to carry New life to the buds and the leaves. The orange blooms laden the air With ,perfumes of dizzy sweet, The vines and the flowers, twine themselves into bowers, Where the wee bird-lovers meet, For the Maid of Spring has returned, Old Winter to tease away, just a smile aimed to banish, lo winter did vanish And now Spring most gayly holds sway. EL1z,xn12'r11 MERICIOLD, '13, Page 'Fourteen

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' Q' AR Y ., 1, L K i from home. Two years before he had disappeared and no report had since come of him. Pk PF Pk PF wk Pls In the meantime the elder Mr. Wharton had retired from his business and had come to California to reside. He now owned a fine home in an exclusive residence district of the same city. ' One night Wharton was awaken-ed by a slight sound at one of the lower windows of the h-ouse. He listened-and then heard muffled footsteps in the room below. A burglar! Seizing his revolver from its hiding place, he crept to the head of the stairs. He could hear the person passing through the living room. He tip-toed down stairs. The burglar was now in the dining room. Ah, there was a narrow streak of light playing over the silver-ware on the buffet and shadowed on its mirror was the form of a man. A shot rang out, a gasp, a shriek from upstairs and total darkness. A groan came from the buffet. Ohg Henry, what's the matter ? called out his wife. Burglars, he shouted, but I'm not injured. Wharton rushed to the telephone in the adjoining room -and called the police. Then he slipped back to the dining room door and listened. Groans and short gasps of pain came from the burglar. Satisfied that the robber could do no harm. Mr. Wharton switched on the lights. The man was lying in ia heap where he had ialleng his pistol was lying out of his reach on the Hoor. Securing this the old man went up to the burglar. You got-me-that time, painfully mumbled the man. Wharton straightened him out on the floor and then peered at his face. My God! he cried. It's Jimmie. He reeled backward and fell across the table. liis shoulders shook with sobs he could not suppress. He went back to the burglar-his boy. Oh, my boy, my boy, why did it have to come to-- Father-mother and a sigh. His boy was gone. Henry! The old man, with his head buried in his arms and crying like a child, did not heed the call. C Page Sixteen