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

Page 13 text:

SRE WY a! wi ae iy eae” | i ¥, yy) ) ch YAS 4, LOMA WN “ TAM 3 SOV eR UX NON.

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éniturial Commencement time draws near! The work of four years is completed, and looking back for an in- stant over those years we feel we have done well. And now the future is before us'| What will it bring? To some it will bring the opportunity of higher edu- cation; to others it will mean taking part in the busy community life around us. Yet whatever our plans for the future, no matter what line of education or work we enter upon, perseverance in the pursuit of that work is necessary. It is the hinge of all other virtues, being simply the habit of trying over and over again the steady and determined pursuit of a plan! We have all been told there is no royal road to learn- ing, and we have all doubtless recognized this during our four years of high school work. Tremendous dif- ficulties should, least of all, discourage, for the things best worth achieving are always surrounded by con- ditions the most difficult to surmount—the difficulty frequently measuring the worth. To know how to wrest victory from defeat and use our failures as stepping stones to better things, is the true secret of success. It is said that the difference between perseverance and obstinacy is, that one comes from, a strong will and the other from a strong won't. One of the things we can be absolutely sure will be developed, while persevering in whatever line of work we undertake, is the knowledge that each year will transform us into more able and competent workers, and we can do easily what seems impossible today. The benefits of a popular government are not at- tained without effort. If eternal vigilance is the price of liberty, eternal perseverance is the price of excel- lence, and is the duty of every lover of his country. So let us say, as the little drummer boy did when taken prisoner and led into the camp of the enemy. They rold him to beat the drum. “Yes,” said he, “I will beat the drum, though you ask me to do it in insult,” and he beat a reveille. “Now,” said they, “beat an ad- vance,” and he did so. “Now beat a charge,” and he beat the charge. “Now,” said they, “beat a retreat.” “No,” said the little fellow, “I never learned to beat a retreat.” Let us have no such word as “retreat” in our vocabulary; but, aided by perseverance, let it be all enward, upward, and victory. The joys, the sorrows, the triumphs and defeats of the years 1913-17 have passed and gone. Each coming day will push them farther and farther back into the shadowy recesses of time. But these years of achievement must live forever, not only in the his- tory of the school, but in your memory. And so, if this book but serves as a guide and reminder of those years and ever binds us more closely to dear old Santa Rosa Hi, its mission will indeed, be well performed.

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GCruck, Fate or Lour? T WAS mid-summer, and early morn- ing, when everything in Nature’s out- doors is dewey and fresh and fragrant. The sun had not been long risen above the hazy mountains, and was just wak- ing the swallows and sparrows to chirp and twitter in happiness. Richard Barstowe was swinging along the road, his head thrown back, en- joying to the full every minute of the morning. He had risen early, and slipping out of the house had started off for a morning walk. For sheer joy at being alive he was whistling, when he turned a bend in the road and the sound of a horse rapidly approaching was heard. Stepping to the side of the road, he waited to see who the early rider was. He did not have to wait long—dashing around the bend at full tilt came a wild-looking little Arabian pony, and on his back was a girl whom Richard judged to be about sixteen. She was dressed in a simple linen middy suit, and a long braid of golden hair hung down her back. In one prettily-shaped arm she clasped a large bunch of wild- flower blossoms, and with the other she guided her pony. Coming upon Dick so suddenly so frightened the girl that she let fall her flowers. She immediately halted her pony, and as Richard, who had stooped and gathered the blossoms, handed them to her, she laugh- i explained that she was so startled at seeing any- , J ingly ove 10 one about so early that she had dropped her flowers. Then with a word of thanks and a fleeting smile, she was gone. Starting on his homeward way, Richard reflected that her eyes had been blue; yes, very blue, and large and sparkling. He wondered who she could be; she was evidently not new in the country as he himself was, having come but the day before for a long-looked- forward-to vacation at the little resort beside the wide expanse of the Pacific Ocean. The next time he saw her was one afternoon when he was on his way down to the beach with his friend, Jack Erdly. She was coming out of a cottage across the street with some other girls, all with tennis racquets. They hailed Jack who waved his hat in reply, and in answer to their query as to whether he was going to the party that night, he replied in the affirmative. “Those are most of the girls who will be at Mrs. Donovan’s party tonight,” explained Jack. ‘You'll like them all, they’re a dandy crowd, but you'll like Pris- cilla Wright the best. She is the girl with the yellow hair down her back. Her family live in Los Angeles, but she had to come here to recuperate from an illness. She stays with her aunt.” These facts were interesting to Dick, and he be- gan looking forward to the evening with much pleasant anticipation.