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

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the track. Could he ever run before to While he was trying to persuade himself that he could do many people? better than he ever did before, some one called to him. He turned to see Marjorie and walked over to speak to her. Dick had spent many happy evenings at the Stepheps home as it always seemed as if he was in a home when he went there, so he and Marjorie were great friends. “Dick, you go in to win that half mile, wont you? Don says you are good in the sprints for having trained so little, but that Russell and Clark are better. He thinks yon can win the half mile, though, if you try real hard.” “Of course I'll do my best, Marjorie, but don’t ex- pect too much. I wish I could win, though.” The events were run off quickly, but to the impatient Marjorie it was all too long until the half mile came. Dick had not done well in the sprints. He had gotten nervous and had not started well. He could run fast and came up to fourth in the one hundred yard and third in the two- twenty, much to the delight of the freshmen. “All out for the half mile, fellows!” came the call. “T mttst and will win!” said Dick as he took his place. “Ready! Get set!” The words sounded crisp and distinct. “Go!” the starter said as the pistol went off. Dick was off with the others. He waited for one of the other men to set the pace and he determined to keep close behind him, whatever happened. Dick knew that the man that took the lead was a sen- He felt that the runner was ior, and not their best man. trying to lead him too fast, but he ran along easily. If the freshmen won this event, they had a chance of winning the meet, otherwise the seniors would probably win. While Dick was thinking over these things he noticed that they were abuot half through. Now the test woula come. He was a little more winded than he had expected to be, but the man in front of him was falling back and he would have the lead. Yes, the man in front of him would Some one was have to drop out. But what was that? coming up behind him. He could hear the swift beating of their spikes on the track. He went faster, but still the run- ner came on. The crowd was cheering. He heard the freshmen yelling his name. He must win for them, but he was so tired. fis lungs hurt and the finish seemed so far off and— “Dick runs That was Marjorie. Yes, he would run and win. He drew himself together and made one final effort. Then the tape loomed up in front of him and he reached out and fell across the line a winner by a few feet. Dick felt some one rubbing him and opened his eyes. “Never mind. old fellow,’ said Don, “you won and that probably means the meet for the [ reshmen.” —HELEN CRANE.

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found the family before a cozy fire in the living room. “Mother,” said Marjorie, “1 want you to meet Dick Yes! When he has met Don and father I will tell you about it. This is Stone, he just saved me from an accident. my brother, Don, and I hope you will be good friends. Marjorie then sat down by her mother and told about the runaway of Lass and how Dick had saved her. “But,” protested Dick, “you give me too much credit. I didn’t do anything wonderful.” “My dear boy,” said Mrs. Stephens, “you do not realize what yon have done. There was no one else on the road and there is no telling how badly Marjorie would have been -hurt.” “Oh, Don!” burst out Marjorie, “Dick can run so fast. No one else could have reached that turn before Lass did. You should make him go out for the track.” “We need a fellow, Stone, and I, as captain, want to see the team win this year. Of course a freshman hasn't much chance for any of the big meets, but at least come out for the Interclass meet. You will have a couple of weeks to practice yet.” I did not real- “T should like very much, Don. Why! ize it was so late. The time has passed very quickly. I really must go.” “Oh, no indeed. You shall stay to dinner with us and for the evening, too. Donald will take you home in the car. Now, don’t refuse! This is Friday night and you don’t have to study, so stay to please me.” 14 “Thank you, Mrs. Stephens. I[ can’t refuse you,” said Dick, although he was inwardly afraid of the dinner and when he saw the table he groaned. How would he be able to manage all those forks? At home they never had more than was absolutely necessary for one person but it seemed that there was enough for everyone at one plate. How he lived through that dinner Dick never knew, but finally Mrs. Stephens reminded him of his mother and he became very jolly and forgot to be shy.. school, family and home. The evening passed all too quick- he found himself back at the fire talking gaily. He told them about the ranch, ly, and Don took him home, after a warm invitation had been given by Mrs. Stephens to come whenever he wished to see them. that at last he had found friends. Three weeks had passed and the day for the big Col- That night he went to sleep happy, feeling lege Interclass Field Meet was at hand. Dick had been training every night and profited more than had been expected by it. The coach had thought him rather small, but he was strong and was called the “Freshie Wonder” by many of the fellows. Dick felt sure he could come well up in the sprints and perhaps win in the half mile, as his greatest trouble was in starting. They had several good runners in the College, but Dick wanted to be best, but then he was only a freshman and could hardly expect that. The big track was alive with people, mostly boys and girls of the town, as many were interested in the college track team. Dick’s heart began to sink as he came out onto AP

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Che Srramble of the Eggs feqN front of the little, weather-beaten country post-office, on two well worn benches that showed the effects of usage, the village loafers and the farmers from out of town were sitting and gossiping, and exchanging the latest news while opening their mail. A political argument was under way, and the bystanders urged on the debaters, the village blacksmith and the postmaster, until it looked as if the affair would come to blows. At this juncture, however, the attention of the combat- ants was distracted by the appearance dawn the road of a little dried up farmer, minus his hat, his whitewhiskers bob- bing up and down as he walked. The little old fellow was leading a dilapidated looking mare,which was pulling an equally antiquated wagon, while under the wagon trotted a dog of such nondescript breed and disconsolate appear- ance that he matched the rest of the group perfectly, and over allman, horse, wagon and dog were splotches of yel- low, irregularly laid on, so that the procession looked as if it: had passed under a painter’s scaffold at the instant he dropped his bucket. As the procession drew near, a chorus of- inquiries greeted it from the benches, but never a word did the old farmer answer as he carefully tied his horse and stepped on 16 the porch. hen he shifted his tobacco to the other cheek and indignantly began his tale of woe. “Fellers,” he said, I’ve had a most turrible time. You all know where the county road goes past my corn field? Wa’al, at any rate my field’s on one side and there’s a row of oaks on the other. Boys, I comes down that road first thing this morning with some baskets of eggs to ship to the city, and, by gum, the first thing I sees is that pesky black cow of Henry Fulcombs in my corn-patch. You all know Henry and you all know the cow. They’re both alike, just as cussed and ornery and naturally perverse as a nest full of hornets!” The old man paused to get his breath, and his audience sat silent and expectant, till, having mopped his forehead with his red bandana, he began again, gesticulating violent- ly, and more excited than before. “ll tell you, boys,” he continued, “I was mad. I hitched Betsy, here, to a bush and gits a pocket full of rocks and starts in to chase that ding-busted cow out. Waal I gits into the field all right, but the minute I gits near the cow , she just hoists her tail over her back and puts out across the field like the old scratch was after her!” The old man was waving his hands frantically now, ti mt