Sarah Dix Hamlin School - Epilogue Yearbook (San Francisco, CA)

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wagging his tail. From that moment on, Ping was No z dog coolie. He had been accepted by the dogs. Ping patted the setter's head, and together they went up the drive, the dog loping ahead and the little boy trotting along behind, until at last they were both swallowed by the dust. -Nancie Paterson. ,45 Let me lift my beart to Cod When the sun is nearb set 5 Let my soul be hallowed When His heart and mine bave met. Let Him bear my eager prayer For a beavenhv world tbut's free 5 Let Him bless and ever :are For u sweet etefnigl. I lycted my heart to Cod Wben the sun was nearbv seg And my soul was ballowed Wben His bear! and mine were met. He beard my eager prayer For a beavenbl world tbafsfree. Oh, help Him bless and fare For a sweet eternity. -Shirley Neitzel, 45 , ,..,. .....-- .,..,.,.,..... -.- e- Y t. 1 A

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the side of the road to stand in the cool wet paddy fields for a few moments. When he returned to the road, he saw two women carrying a pig between them on bamboo poles. The pig was lying in a wicker basket, with its feet hanging forlornly out of the end. How he wished that he too might be carried along. Ping now knew that he must be approaching the town. It was getting lateg so he hoped that he would be able to find out there how far he really had to go. On arriving at Un Long he was greeted by a very dirty little town, the smell of which drifted in clouds around it. There were the regular bits of chewed up sugar cane all over the dusty street, while pigs lounged comfort- ably on piles of garbage. Two dogs started to fight, but the people still kept milling around not aware of the commotion. The sides of the shops were covered with layers of torn advertisements, in which unattractive ladies with powdered, torn faces peered down from stuccoed walls. Myriad of flies flew around magenta colored boxes and strips of meat in shop windows. This was just what Ping had looked forward to, and he could hardly tear himself away from the town's unsightly wares. He grinned as he passed the Sikh policeman and whistled at a blase chow sitting in a doorway, his blue tongue hanging out, paying absolutely no attention to anybody. Once outside the town he hurried on. The sun was going down, and the mountains in the distance were becoming a hazy blue. The breeze was blow- ing through the long paddy, while the insects in the grass by the wayside were beginning to hum. It was much cooler nowg the mosquitoes, taking advantage ofthe fact, had suddenly come out and were biting right and left. Ping was beginning to feel very tired. His feet hurt, and he was thirsty. He flicked a mosquito off his cheek and looked around him. The place must be about here. Yes, over there was the gate, a green gate with a bamboo hedge on one side and a granite milestone on the other. Those were the directions his brother had given him. Carefully he shoved the gate open. It was heavy and made his weary little back hurt. He grit his teeth hard as he shut it. Before him stretched a long wide drive which sharply curved behind tall trees. He could see lights flickering through the leaves. Suddenly a dog which had been digging up a sacred flower bed ran out into the drive. He stared uncertainly at Ping, and then he ran forward ... .,., A'-'-:- -'-'-'sl - ------1 '-':n - r la.t'

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WAS BORN and have lived within sound ofthe surf all my life, for we live on an island of the Hawaiian group so small that it is impossible to get a car up to a decent speed without running off the road into the blue Pacific. Livingin such close proximity to the sea, the ability to swim becomes a prime necessity. At the age of three, I was cast upon the waters and have been alternately sinking, swimming, and paddling my own canoe ever since. Whei1I was five, I had the opportunity of becoming acquainted with a revolting member of the octopus family, known as the squid, which wound itself in a friendly manner around my left leg. At six I ran a motor-boat for the first time, and at seven I was indulging in the doubtful pleasure of learning to dive. After many miscalcu- lations, which resulted in indescribable tenderness to several indiscussable regions of myself I reached the stage of being able to achieve a more-or-less graceful precipitance into the Pacific. At last the great day came. My investigations of the Undersea were to begin. Armed with a spear and an unearthly concoction which enables one to see clearly under water but makes it necessary for one to breathe exclu- sively through one's mouth, I venture vaguely but valiantly beneath the waves. A tremendous panorama of fish and seaweed, mixed with a dozen different shades of blue and green, meets my glass-enclosed eyes. I feel the inclination to breathe deeply, but when I open my mouth, a triple chain of bubbles pops out and, as they ascend surfaceward, I descend to the ocean-bottom like a deflated inner tube. Here I sit admiring the beauties of nature until I feel it necessary to take a deep breath and must journey upwards. The delightful sensation of swimming beneath the surface and feeling as light as air soon intrigues me into raking another dive. This time I swim about among the rocks, feeling the curious eyes of little fish following me. I stand on a rock on rl-ie ocean-bottom and look out into the depths beyond. It looks like another world, one in which the awkward forms of human beings seem grotesque and out of place. It is a world of shifting deserts of sand, sprinkled generously with high mountains of rock, which afford numberless crevice-like homes for its cliff-dwelling inhabitants. One never knows whose abode one may be stepping on when one alighrs on the pin- Lift Bzlnm tht Sw