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

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riba DHE; eeiCiH © WAR SOCKS IM SAT THERE, moodily staring at them. They were a fine looking pair of socks, a fine pair! Why, he could knit as well as that, he was sure. Tiow all the dropped stitches had passed the critical eve of the inspector was a mystery to him. flowever, he concluded, there was nothing to be gained by sitting there looking at them, at the same time just about freezing to death; so he sighed heavily, and started to put one on. As he did so, a small card fell to the ground floor of the bunkhouse. Ie stooped and picked it up- It was an engraved calling card bearing the name, “Francis M. Palmer,” and below it was scribbled in a rather bold tiand: “This is my first pair, so please overlook the various original stitches and knots.’ Turning the card over, he found: ‘538 Lowell avenue, Mayfield, Caiifornia,” in the saine handwriting. As he read the card his face softened and broke into a charming 5 smile, then he threw back his head and laughed long and loud. “Well,” he said, in a pleasant voice, to his shoes as he laced them, “so this is her first pair. I suppose I shall have to write to Miss Francis and thank her-” That evening, ina Y. M. C.A. hut, he sat at a desk, with writing paper before him; should he, or should he not? All the other fel- iows in his company corresponded with girls at home, so why shouldn't he? But still, they were all fellows who had had many gir! friends all their lives: but he, he had always avoided them. There were no girls in the office where he had worked, and none at the boarding house where he had boarded. The only feminine personage he was acquainted with, or interested in, had been the stout, good-natured Mrs. O’Leary, his landlady. But this girl was, no doubt, expecting an answer, and he would not disappoint her. Taking up a pen he wrote a brief, business- like note of thanks, signed: “Respectfully, Sgt. James C- Lawton, . E. F., France,’ and dismissed the matter from his mind. The following weeks were spent in drilling and intensive train- ing; but the boys were becoming restless, they wanted a change; they hadn’t come six thousand miles to drill; they could do that at home; they came over to fight, and if they didn’t get a chance to do so soon, they vowed they weuldn’t be responsible for their actions. 27

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Arne By Gero) “Today whenever | see a likeness of our country’s President, I see, not only him, but the mighty concourse behind him of the rulers of America. Forever they are there, I know, and in time of our country’s peril and danger, stil! will they step forth to her succor. They ever keep watch over the loved land, and ever does their 1ma- jestic presence rest as a light of love over old Glory.” Dear old Mr. Norton is dead now, but still I remember his ear- nest words to me, when we parted that day never to meet again on this side of the grave—‘Old Glory, their shades brood o’er it, for they love it still.” Lawrence Hart, ’20. DEATH Death, thou blessed and eternal rest, Essence of sleep with dreams enduring ever; And an unknown reward used but to sever, The sufferings of the aged and opprest. The one unfailing goal of Life’s Great Quest, To mortal sense thou seemest but the lever, Designed to raise our life-worn souls, forever Gone—here no more, but onward—West. Death! What is death? Comes now the fevered question; Ask we what we will dream ere we may sleep? Thou of Morpheus a mute relation, A dream for Every Man to silent reap. O Death! Of mortal life the culmination: ‘Tis but for joy of infinite rest we weep! Alex Trachman.

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One mornirg, as a group of fellows were cleaning their guns, the mail orderly arrived with the mail from home. To Jim he handed a rather fat letter, addressed in writing which he instantly recognized; a letter from Francis! Jim had received but few letters in his life, and this was the first rea! letter he had ever read- Francis humbly apologized for being so bold as to send the card with the name and address, but it had been done on a dare. The letter went on to tell of all that was happening at school. It seemed that lrancis was a senior in high school, baseball season was just about to open and Francis hoped to make the team as pitcher. Then she told Jim she would like to know what he locked like, and if possible she would like to have a “snap” of him. At the end were a few new jckes which had appeared in the last issue of the school paper. On the whole, it was a jolly, “good friend” letter, and convinced Jim that perhaps he had had, up to this time, a rather perverted idea of the fair sex. Since you might be interested in “how Jim looked,” too, here is an extract from his letter to Francis: “I’m just a big, tali, clumsy fellow, with red hair; the enclosed ‘snap’ tells you more than I could’ The enclosed “snap” was a picture of a tall, well built fellow in uniform, not handsome, but having a very cheery smile, and you could almost see his eyes twinkle. Concerning personal description, however, Francis was just’ as meager in reply: “I’m tall, toc, only my hair is brown, and I have blue eye s. I won't send you a picture, for I fear you will be dis- appointed and will stop writing to me, and you really can’t imagine how I enjoy the comradeship of your iclly letters.” And so, in the following months, they carried on an animated correspondence and their friendship grew. At last, orders came to advance. Jim’s company was to move ap and occupy the front line trenches. The boys all rejoiced; how glad they were to be on the move and in the fight! A few days later, after Jim’s company had gloriously gone “over the top,” Jim was found in a shell hole by the stretcher bearers. He was uncon- scious and horribly wounded. As soon as it was possible, he was transported to the dressing station; thence to the base hospital. There, in December, he underwent a serious operation, and, thanks to the skill of the surgeon, and to his own wonderful vitality and will power, he was soon on the road to recovery. s he was lying listlessly on his cot, dreaming idly, an orderly appeared with a box and a letter. These he left by the bedside. Jim’s face brightened; a letter and a box from Frances! It was a Christmas box, and indeed it was full of Christmas cheer. There was a sprig of holly tied with a bright scarlet ribbon, a book, a silver pencil with his initia!s engraved on it, some wonderful cookies. and some powerfully good home-made candy. And that letter, how