Shortridge High School - Annual Yearbook (Indianapolis, IN)

Page 29 text:

SUNSET mantle over the valley, covering forests, farms, and village like a downy blanket. A slender beam of light, shining gravely from a kitchen window in the village. pierces the growing dusk like a sharp gleaming lance. Mothers' voices, calling their children in from their play, interrupt the symphony of the evening breeze, which is whispering softly through the branches and leaves of the poplars. The bubbling, gurgling stream tumbles merrily over the mossy rocks, and tugs playfully at the drooping branches of the Willows which line its banks. In the more quiet pools, huge green bullfrogs, grotesque in the shadowy darkness, croak and sputter, as they send their serenade echoing through the still night. Curling, twisting, thickening, a filmy white mist rises slowly, softening the outlines of the trees and bushes. The twinkling stars, like points of light, look dovm from their places in the huge blue vault, and see a world in which all is quiet. Nature is at rest. 6' or FRIENDSHIP J EANNE HELT The corner-stone of Life is Friendship. True Friendship is as rare as precious gems, and dearer. One's real friends of a whole lifetime may be counted on the iingers of one hand. Yet, few in number, they enrich one's life to the uttermost. Dullness from solitude, self-interest, and narrow- ness are overwhelmingly contrasted with the joys of a Friendship of which mutual love, admiration. and respect are parts. Not only can a man not live Without companions, but a man cannot live without Friends. The highest reward of a high school career is the formation of a true Friendship. The greatest discovery of any life is the iinding of 9, Friend. The thrill of the soul most wonderful is the thrill from the Words of a Friend. The noblest deed is sacrifice for a Friend's sake and the lowest the betrayal of friendly interest. The greatest glory is triumph shared with a Friend and the deepest pangs of trouble are those caused by injury to him. The supreme joy is the joy of Friendship, and deepest gloom-its sorrow. Friendship is that blessed state of existence in which two parties love, help, and advise each other for the best interests of each, in which they share the joys and sorrows of each, as joys and sorrows of both, in which each betters himself for the satisfaction and pride of the other. So if you have a true Friend,you are fortunately blessed with a Divine gift from one who is a Friend to all. And if you are without a true Friend, it is yours to live in such a manner as shall foster the formation of sincere Friendship and yours to hope that soon you shall have a Friend-to love- for only with Love do we live.

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SUNSET XVILLIAM J. BURICH xcgi N ,1 rg- , M ' RQ ,N ff '1- 3 5 ' 'fi ,A - Qfj - , ' Q' . , ,rhfnlh ? 2:-ff 'Q EAA' A 1 .EYTZX a4m'Gw,f.t.,-at A '-- -0 I OISED momentarily above the purple ridge of the distant hills, the glowing, fiery sun sheds its parting rays over the little valley, snuggled cozily among the tree-clad hills. The tall, ivy-mantled spire of the little church in the village gleams brightly in the rosy light, as, slim and erect, it points like a. long finger toward the azure heavens above, casting an ever-lengthening shadow upon the quiet streets below. In the cool, sweet-smelling depths of the woods, the little wild folk are scurrying to their nests, as if afraid to be caught by the oncoming evening. A little gray squirrel scampers warily across the open glade and, chattering gayly, climbs to his snug little haven in the top-most branches of a huge, Weatherbeaten oak. The soft, full notes of a vesper Sparrow float clearly through the quiet evening. A huge jay, perched in the top of a neighboring tree, scolds loudly and angrily at the departing sun. Down in the valley, the farmer, having finished milking, is just turning the lowing herd out into the meadow for the night. The horses are drinking slowly from the huge wooden trough before they go out to the pasture. The old collie, weary after his long, busy day, is lying on the cool earth by the back porch, waiting for his dinner. A small flock of pigeons is wheeling and turning above the old barn. Settling on the gabled peak, they strut up and down along the ridge, until. one by one, they disappear into the hayloft of the barn. Now only the rim of the huge luminous ball remains above the distant ridge. Casting a final beam upon the church spire, the sun disappears. Only the huge billowy clouds, floating like soft rosy pillows, still reflect the colorful rays of the fiery orb. Creeping slowly from the East, the dusky gray evening spreads its soft

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. 7 WH, 777, W AN UNWELCOME INTRUDER FLORENCE OTTO miles of almost impassable road, leading through dense pine woods, indeed, little more than a logging trail, had recently taken at least a dozen parties of campers from Newberry, the last point of civilization, to Muskellunge Lake, in the uppermost penninsula of northern Michigan. Deer ran wild through the woods, and an oc- .. XXX casional bear was seen out in the famous blue- ' -fx berry patches. The place was alive with little N-X wild animals, so interesting to all, especially the I, children. At night the howling of the coyotes sent a chill through the hearts of the more timid campers. Muskellunge, famous for its fishing, had lured many at that time to its waters. On that particular afternoon, the sun was slowly sinking behind the stately pine trees. It was late in August. The day had been unusually warm for so far north. While it was hardly supper-time, nearly all the camps gave evidence of cooking, as it is always necessary to prepare meals ahead of time to satisfy appetites sharpened by the outdoor life. It was the most quiet time of the day. Not a bird could be heard, as it was too late for the morning birds and too early for the evening. There was not even the splash of an oar on the lakeg indeed, the only sound to be heard was the low, monotonous roar of Lake Superior-not more than two hundred feet away. Suddenly the stillness was broken. There was a whirr that sounded exactly like an airplane. It didn't seem possible that it could be an air- plane up in that remote region, where such a thing was probably un-T known. At that very moment, I was in a boat with my two brothers on the lake. Imagine our surprise when we looked up in the direction of the noise and saw a large hydroplane, coming toward the lake and making a perfect landing upon it. The Water began to rise and fall, like a mighty ocean tide, threatening to capsize our little fishing boat. As soon as the plane righted itself, it glided across the lake to the farthest shore. Filled with curiosity, we rowed with all speed to get a close-up view. By this time, the shores were dotted with excited people, appearing suddenly, as if from nowhere. Women with aprons on-and probably with flour on their hands-men in their shirt sleeves, and children of all sizes, were craning their necks to get a better view of the great, white sea bird. As if resting for a while and regaining its breath, the plane stood still, and then suddenly took off, glided over the tree-tops, and disappeared from view. During the evening, it flew about the lake many times and made