Sonora Union High School - Green and Gold Yearbook (Sonora, CA)

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- . GREEN .mu cow --i-- across a small box. Curiously she opened it. A ghastly pallor spread over her face and her hand shook and trembled, for there lay the cross she had given to Hugh Wallace, in the old garden, ten years ago. Many times she opened her lips to question her husband, but some strange impulse stayed her tongue, so she decided tn keep silent: and, in a little drawer of her dressing table, Patricia locked away the box, and with it locked away many a sweet and sorrowful memory. A HOLD ATTEMPT AT INVOKING THE MUSE OME POETRY for the Green and Gold, Oh dear! the Junior sighs, Pd never think of a thing so bold, As to write down bare-faced lies. There're singing birds, and dappled skies, And dancing wavelets blue. There're plaintive songs, and maiden's sighs, But there's the rythm yet to do. Thex-e's nothing of poetic rhyme, In Chemistry's awful names, There's less in Algebrsls minus signs, For unpoetic dames. But a toast to old Tuolumne Hi, I raise to the heavens blue, As long as the years and months roll by, May we be true to you. C. C. '16. -Page 14-

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l-l-1- GREEN AND GOLD 1-1- Golden Cross by EILEEN sums '16 HE SILVERY PALENESS of the moon shed a radiance over the rolling terrace of a great English garden, illuminating it with a cold blue light. A girl, robed all in white, stood by a marble fountain, and bending over her was a man. A solemness, that bespoke of farewells was on their faces, Oh Hugh, and to think that I may never see you again. I hate war, it's cruel and it's needless. But we may still hope, Patty, I mightn't get even a scratch, and I'm too much of a Britisher not to enjoy a good scrap. Kitchener's a wonder, too, I call it a privilege to be able to fight under him, he's one of the kind of men who make history. Ten minutes passed in which neither spoke a word. At such times, words are useless, but the very silence itself was eloquent. Finally the man arose, looked at his watch and said, I must go, dear, I'm due at headquarters now. The girl 'rose and quickly unclasped from around her white throat a tiny golden cross, and holding it out to him, whispered, Take it, Hugh, and keep it and perhaps, who can tell, but that it will bring you luck, be your talismanl' O U 8 i In the white washed walls of a hospital, the groans and cries of the suffering and dying rent the air. The white robed nurses and doctors moved about in their merciful efforts to relieve the sufferers. In a corner, somewhat removed from the rest, a wounded man lay on a cut. One could tell at a glance that Death had already claimed him for his num. Bending over him was another man. I'm not afraid to go, Joe. Thank God, that I've lived so that my soul is fit to face its Maker. But Joe, there's a girl,-il' A convulsive spasm of pain crossed the dying man's face. His comrade pressed his ear close to the other's lips, so as to get the next words. Thrusting something into Joe Hunter-'s hand, the sufferer tried to speak. Tak-, it was too late, he fell back dead. When Hunter opened his hand to see what was there, he caught the gleam of a tiny golden cross. l 8 8 O We never know what Fate has in store for us, she's a fickle goddess at best, and in many instances she plays strange pranks. Five years pass, before we meet Patricia Reed again. In the meantime Joe Hunter had met her and fallen in love with her. He pressed his suit and was accepted, for heart sores, even though they do burn deep at first, with time heal, and only the scar is left. Going through some papers in an old desk one day, Mrs. Hunter came -Page'13-

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-li-- GREEN AND GOLD il... The Fire Spirit MARY EZRCH '18 ONG YEARS AGO, when the world was young, there dwelt alone in 11 hut high upon the mountain side, overlooking the sea, a little, old man, palsied and weazened faced, who seldom ventured into the civilized world. So meek and unobtrusive was he, that he would have passed unnoticed if it were not for his hair, red it was, now a dull red, now a tawny red, and when the son shone full upon it, a glowing crimson red that caught and held the sunbeams. It was shaggy and unkempt and hung down upon his shoulders in matted profusion, and contrasted strangely with his wrinkled face and feeble gait. His infrequent visits to the human world were largely due in a. measure to the gibes, derision, and laughter that greeted him as he walked along the village streets. Look at the lion! says one. See him shake his tawny mane, says another. Lion! says another, he couldn't even kill a mouse. Only a few spoke kindly to him, and to these he turned with an appealing smile. At last visits ceased. High up the mountain's side on his lonely cot he lay, and with his last breath prayed to Jupiter, Oh high and mighty God, endow my spirit with strength that I may comfort my friends and overcame my enemies. Jupiter heard his prayer, and it is his spirit that is seen in the flickering, dancing flames of the fireplace, making it a comfort for his friends, and his revengeful spirit that wipes out cities and forests, sending up a defiant roar like the voice of the lion, king of beasts, with whom they tauntingly compared him in life. A fe -we isftNi,'.s':i X i .X . .X X si , r - -Page 15-