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

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,ls-. flag' V' , EJ X9 X 'yy Z ..- ,ff , V, X Q7f:7 'z, 1 ,fl , X Z MW 1 7 ,J 5,4 ' I 4 ,fM2JA1ffffffffi 'fgQ,'417Qf-ga, ffiffif-fffffggi fffyfww life would be very pleasant, but now I realize how little I am fitted for such a life. But I must go. I thank you, that you have saved me from myself. But, never- theless, you must never try to see me again, for it would never do for me to be seen talking with a common person. Goodbye. With this she was gone. She hastily walked along the street, for a few short blocks and finally stopped before a large house. Glancing hurriedly about her, she quickly ran up the steps and stole quietly to her room. Here she took off the fine apparel, and donned the quiet black dress of a lady's maid. Then stepping quietly, she walked down the hall and laid the clothes away. As she was doing this, the door bell rang, so she hastened downstairs. Opening the door she admitted a young lady, dressed in the flaring style of the day. She helped her take off her coat and then laid away the costly hat. jane, said the lady, evidently mistress of the house, Please tell the 'butler to serve lunch at twelve and then come upstairs. Thus, the society belle, tired of society life, passed from existence. :F at lt The young man still stood on the beach, looking idly out to sea. A faint smile played about his lips, as if he were repressing some humorous thought. Then he turned and walked away, still thinking, but now the smile was dominant. Soon he came to a large automobile bearing the Coat of Arms of nobility. Open- ing the door, he stepped in and as he sank in the cushions, gave the simple order, Home, ,Iames YU The only answer he received, was an equally simple, Yes, my lord. With a whir, the poor grocery clerk, who sold cheese and eggs for eight dollars a week, ceased to exist. I VV.xL1'1zR SCIIMIDT, '16. E-li S. A. H. S. Memories The hours I spend in dear S. A, Are golden hours to me. The days, so full of work and play Shall dwell in memory. Many important facts I learn, I won't remember long, But oft from saddest thoughts I'll turn To sing the old school song. Yet the faces that return to me, Of those among the throng-- Are faces that shall ever be Far sweeter than the song. MINNIE MONTGOMERY, '14. Twenty-Five

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fg 0WM'7!!i!Z7W 1, 4127 fifhf fff f57Qgf6f!?Q!!f!!1g!fW!W! Www figi fbif All That Glitters Is Not Gold QB N the glittering sands of the beach, a beautiful young lady, dressed in the height of fashion, was idling away the time, carelessly turning the leaves of a leather bound novel. Apparently, she was annoyed at the exceedingly quiet surroundings. 4 Soon, however, she was pleased to note the approach of a young man, ,walking leisurely along the shore. His clothes were not of the latest design, but looked to be of the cheap ready-made variety, which seemed a little out of place in the aristocratic surroundings. As he came nearer, a little handkerchief fell from the lap of the girl. The wind caught it and in an instant, the waves would have reached it, had not the young man, with a quick step, reached forward and recovered it. Raising his hat, he returned the dainty bit of linen and lace to its owner. ,As he was about to turn and continue his course, the lady asked him if he would stay a little while, as she wished to speak with him on a subiect with which he was no doubt familiar. 'fTo begin with, she said, my father is a duke, and I am forced to live the life of a duke's only daughter. You may not realize what this means, but I am really tired of it. Every day, the same monotonous performances. There is noth- ing new for me. The same people every day, the same engagements every night, theatres, balls, parties. Everything alike, until the monotony drives me mad. But I have decided to end it all, and so I need your advice. You see I have no friends that are in a position to know conditions among working people. I have decided to run away and work for my living. Then I will never be bothered with the drudge of society life again. It would be great fun to live this way, with no one to tell me just what I must do. Donlt you think this would be a good plan F The young man sighed. It is evident that you know nothing of the cruel world, he said. I myself am a poor man. For years I have saved, that I might have a few weeks of pleasure, and now I am spending what took years of hard toil to earn. I work in a grocery store in New York. All day I must work, selling cheese and bread, and eggs. For this I get but eight dollars each week. On this I must live. No pleasures can be had, no enjoyments, and there are no better pros- pects for the future. And yet you would go into such a world? And what would you do? What could you do? The cities are crowded with girls, all better fitted for work, and many of these are without employment. You, who are used to every luxury that you can imagine, what would you do when you would be denied even the plainest food. Think better of this and remain where you are. You would always repent of such a rash actf' As he stopped speaking, the maid began to sob. You cannot tell how much I thank you for this. I did not know that things were so. I thought that - ee' 'id' T' r 27' Twenty-Four

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-1 f -f ml ! fwfnfx 6 ,,f ff, ff W M .-, .ff ,,,, 1.1 V ' 'W AXZYX ffl h f' Vg. f f l J .Y Q ff l l 0 , Q11 Behind Time V NE bright June morning Mrs. Smith, who lived in the suburbs of a large city, was going to town. Now, Mrs. Smith was noted among her 4' friends for being behind time. It seemed as if she could never get 4 -593 gpg. h . . . . Q Q anyw ere on tune. But this morning it was worse than ever. While getting breakfast, she burned the pancakes and had to ' make a new batch. This put breakfast behind time and Mr. Smith had to run for his car. She had promised that she would be at his office at II :3o sharp to take dinner with him and an important business friend of his. She tin- ished her morning work without a mishap and got ready to go to the city, planning to take the last morning train, one that would just barely get her there in time. XVhen she reached the depot and asked when the train would be in, the agent said not for a half an hour. She said, VVhy, it's late, isn't it P No, they've changed the time, said the agent. Now Mrs. Smith had forgotten that they were going to change the time of the trains and she looked at her watch in dismay. lt would take the train an hour and a half anyway to get her to the city, and starting at ten thirty, it wouldn't get her there until nearly twelve. VVhat would her husband think? He had wanted her to make a favorable impression on the friend for her husband was trying to put through a big land deal with him. Suddenly came the startling thought that it was her day to entertain the club and she had forgotten about it, and the caterer was to be there to arrange things. She rushed frantically to a telephone and called up her neighbor. Oh, Ethel, she said, l had forgotten that this is my day to entertain the club and l'm going to the city. Will you go over and receive them? l'll be back by three o'clock. You will? Oh, thank you. f Just as she hung up the receiver she heard the train coming. lt was twelve o'clock when she reached l'larry's office. She was hot and tired and she sank into a leather arm-chair. VVhere is Mr. Smith P she asked the stenographer. Mr, Smith waited until a quarter of twelve for you and then he and Mr. 'llrown left. lie left a note for you, said the stenographer. Mrs. Smith picked up the note and read it. It said: HTAURA.-Sorry but we eouldn't wait for you. Come to the Metropolitan Cafe, HARRY. I Laura stuck the note in her pocketbook and hurried to the street. VVhen she reached the Cafe, she couldnt End her husband and after searching about fifteen minutes she hurried back to the office. Twenty-Six