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

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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

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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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D, nacle ofa submerged rock, It is wise, therefore, to look first and step after- wards, for the excitement and glamour of the underwater are gone for no small space of time if one happens to step on the habitat ofa sea urchin who is at home for the day. Suddenly a current swirls around me and creates a miniature sandstorm on the ocean bottom, which, for the moment, blurs my turquoise-tinted view. As it clears ofll a red and purple fish streaks past my eyes with a school of little nondescripts following at his heels. They flash into the distance, in the direction ofa large ptomontory of rock, which extends out from the shore, obscuring my view ofthe other side of the bay. Curious to see where the fish had gone, I ascend to the surface and swim around the peninsula of rock, which stretches for some distance out of the water, Taking a deep breath, I submerge, with numerous ungrateful splashes, to acquaint myself with another entirely new and different world. A superb undersea extravaganza bursts upon me with all its beauty and splendor. I feel suddenly like Gareth when he first set eyes upon Camelot, the mystic city of Arthur. Before me lies what would seem to be the capital city ofa magnificent underwater realm. It is designed in the romantic fashion of the fourteenth Century, for it has an abundance of tall towers, majestic cathedrals, topped with graceful Pinnacles which are the quintessence of Gothic architectural Perfection, tremendous pits like the bottomless dun- geons of old, and slender suspension bridges slung over wide crevasses. The colours Presented in this scene of fantasy rival I-lollywood's most gorgeous technicolor exhibits. Towers of bright orange and delicate purple, medieval castles in lime and salmon, with turrets and clrawbridges in bright yellow and Palest pink, claim the prizes for colour Perfection. To think that Nature, who has been so lavish in her gifts of beauty on the earth's surface, should have been so extravagant and original in her treatment ofthe undersea world, which few men ever see! The city is of coral, the queen of undersea rocks. Its beauty is magical, enchanting. One wishes to bring it up to the surface and put it on show for all the world to see, but, alas, this could never be done, for coral, like Hilton's enchanted woman of Lost Horizon, holds its beauty only in its natural home. When it is brought to the surface, it loses all its colour and becomes an ugly, dirty white. Surrounding the city is water, but it doesn't seem like water, because its gm..- -, .- ......,.....- ,,-....f..:-,t........., A- , ..,, - ,.., .4.. .,..........u..,m WJL... ..-,.