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

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his whiskers jerked up and down as he talked, emphasizing his words, and he seemed to forget his auditors as he vit- ualized the morning's tragic occurrences. “T wears myself plumb out,” he said, “chasin’ that cow around the field, drat her! She tramples on all the corn, and I loses my hat and falls down, and when I gits up I jes’ gives it up as a bad job, when what does she do but go par- adin calml o1t tiie hole in che ‘ence on t the roac, like | in the middle of the road, and she looks as if she was a- laughin’ at me. [ellers, that was too much! [ picks up a rock and heaves it at her, and she hoists her tail again and lights out down the road. Then I sees I made a mistake for Betsy, tied a little farther along, gits kind of excited, when she sees that cow a-comin’ down the road like she means to go .ome place. Be sv bacis up:s tor as the rope vill let sir’ sport lets out a yelp you could hear a mile, and hearin’ that racket behind her, Betsy pulls loose and starts down the road while the old black cow is a-comin’ up. I starts to run as fast as I kin, and I says, says I, “Whoa, Betsy ! look out for them eggs!’ But she never pays any attention and the cow, she keeps right on a-comin’ It was awful Every time the wagon hits a rut a few eggs flies out of the bas- kets and smashes in the road, and Sport, who is a-runnin’ behind the wagon, gives an extra howl every time an egg hits him, and Betsy gives another jump, and comes a little might faster. It sure looks like it was a-goin’ to be an aw- ful accident, I knows if they ever hits, I will never be able to put Betsy together again, and I don’t want to pay that old coot, Henry for a cow that eats all my corn. Wa’al boys jest as they was a-comin’ together, and I thinks its all over, Betsy all of a sudden braces all four feet an’ slides along and stops, and the cow turns to one side and tries to pass, But right when Betsy stops so quick, the eggs don’t. They keeps right a-goin’!) They sails up in the air and comes down and busts, jest like them German bombs we reads about in the papers. One whole crateful falls out on Sport and makes a regular omelet on him and all over the road. I gits there just in time to get some, too; I tries to dodge, but it wasn’t no use, a s you gents can plainly see. As for Betsy, she was just wadin’ around and a-snortin’ like a loco- motive. And I'll be switched if that cow didn’t catch one horn in the handle of a basket with it haingin’ on her head and the eggs rattlin’ out and runnin’ down her back. Boys, that was a mess! that was a mess! That place in the road will be one omelet for weeks, and I don’t believe that cus- sed cow is stopped runnin’ yet. I had to lead Betsy back to town, she is so scared, and I konws she will never be hand- some like she was once. Just the same.” and here a satisfied smile spread over his face,“I bet Henry Fulcomb wont rec- ognize his cow the next time he sees her.” He turned to go into the post office, but as he reached the door wheeled about, and shaking a warning finger at the assembly, shouted, “Don’t none of you fellers ever trust an egg, it wont treat you right.” a —EDWARD R. CLAPP.

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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

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Spuinrs President—Verrel Weber Vice President—Carl Hoyle Secretary-Treasurer—Alida Showers Representatives—Bernice Showers Paul Johnson Class Reporter—Alida Showers Class Motto—“Carry On” Class Flower—Cecil Burner Rose Class Colors—Gray and Gold 18 iP