Santa Rosa High School - Echo Yearbook (Santa Rosa, CA)

Page 10 text:

THE PORCUPINE AAlone The poplar stretched up straight ani tall, In appearance king of trees. Its neighbors viewed it, great and small, Anl in their petty gossip all Said with insolent ease: “Tt’s alone, All alone.” “It’s love of self’s what keeps it up,” So said those little trees. “Tf it so wishes it may drain the cup Of bitter, and sorrow. if it will not stoop, But remains high in the breeze, Alone, All alone.” The poplar heard, and sadly smiled, For trees do smile sometimes. “How little they know why I am exiled, Why I cannot stoop and be defiled, But here remain and pine Alone, All alone.” “Nis little they know how I long and sigh, A foolish thing, I know, For a sincere friend as tall as I, But the laughing breeze as it passes by, Mocks my ery of woe, Alone, All alone.” “for they lack not a clinging vine Nor need they hush a moan, As a sense of loss of love divine Wrings from the suffering heart and minl This haunting cry, Alone, All alone.”

Page 9 text:

THE PORCUPINE 7 “kids” you never saw before. I kept getting redder all the time, just like a girl when she blushes; but I said as calmly as I could and in an import- ant way, I thought, “Why, he was the king’s son.” The whole class began to laugh, but for the life of me I couldn’t see why. They would be laughing yet, I guess, if the teachers hadn’t looked daggers at them, but not be- fore she had had a good laugh herself. I was so mad I could have licked every last one of those boys. The teach- er said, “ we all knew that he was a king’s son, Mr. Jen- kins.” You can imagine how insignificant I felt when she said that. I thought I had made quite an impression, but it seemed I hadn’t. I thought that little incident would pass over, but not much. The next day as I was going through the hall some of the “big-bug” girls—seniors, I think they call them—remarked, “Oh, there goes Johnnie, the poor little boy whose first attempt at recitation was a failure. Isn’t he cute?” I said to myself, “John, can you stand any more of this?” I had come to the conclusion that to be at home, even if it was by my mother’s side, would be better than to stand any more such torment. I did not answer my- self until the end of the month. Then, I said, “John, you’ve just got to grin and bear it.” For there in the High School paper they had written it all out and told a lot of stuff about the poor little freshies who mustn’t get discouraged. I know they meant only me. I would have quit there and then if my mother hadn’t urged me to stay and do my best and not be a disgrace to the family. % Well, I’in still at S. R. H. 8S. and you couldn’t hire me to quit now, as I learned a lesson which has been an advan- tage to me all through the months that have followed. The moral of my little tale is: Don’t think yourself so important that you can distinguish yourself, for you will find yourself “up gainst it,” and your pride will take a fall as mine did. A. 706.

Page 11 text:

THE PORCUPINE 9 Oliver’s Farewell Letter It has been the good fortune of the students of the San- ta Rosa High School to receive an object lesson of great value. Whether they will profit by it or not, is another question. For several days they had with them a young Japanese who was there for the purpose of increasing his familiarity with the English language, preparatory to entering Stanford. He departed suddenly in response to his country’s call, leaving behind him a letter. This letter not only shows the spirit which is largely responsible for the Japanese victories in the far East, but it also clearly indicates to the students that an associate may possess latent possibilities undreamed of by them. They receive at first hand the lesson that patriotism and devotion to duty know no race distinction, and that im- perfect English can express the loftiest of sentiments. The letter is here given in full: At the Midnight, Oct. 15, ’04. Mr. E. M. Cox, Dear Sir: I received the telegram at p. m., 5 this evening, from Japanese Government to come back for my military service. I teared, holding it in my hands under the twilight, for I could not keep down my deep feeling which had been disturbed the progress of my study, but not dread death on the battle ground. Had gone in vain! Holding the purpose to reservice an example of public virtue for the future of the land of rising suns— Japan—as the “Light of Asia,” I crossed the unharvested Pacific ocean this summer. But had gone in vain! Dear schoolmaster! My acquaintance with you at the school was a few days, as a little dream of summer night, but have become the close teacher as so has been long be- fore, yet it was a meeting, I must go, leaving you far be- hind. When the sun will break the eastern sky you never fell to see the beautiful scenery of the Santa Rosa’s na-