South Pasadena High School - Copa de Oro Yearbook (South Pasadena, CA)

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noon.” Now thoroughly awake, I jumped up, dressed, hurried down to breakfast, and within half an hour was ready to mount my horse with the others. We selected a pleasant road leading through the woods and cantered leisurely along, enjoying the bright, fresh May morning. Oh, how pretty it all was! Pine and fir trees, cottonwood and oaks towered above us; the sweet wild flowers of the Yosemite, especially the azalea, banked the sides of the Merced which flows through the valley. Wild rose bushes, fragrant with blossoms, lined our path, and infinite numbers of larkspur, columbine, golden stars, tarweed, buttercups, Indian paint brush, wild lilac and many others smiled a pleasant good morning at us. Birds chirped and sang around us, while gorgeous butterflies and bright-hued flying insects of various kinds flew about our heads or sipped their morning repast from the blossoms about them. Ferns, moss and pine needles carpeted the ground, tempting weary pedestrians to stop and rest. To the right of us, to the left of us, in front and in back of us towered the mighty, granite walls from two to six thousand feet above the floor of the valley which is itself four thousand feet above sea level. Occasionally little unnamed waterfalls could be seen trickling down some steep mountain side. In one sweeping glance I could see the lovely Yosemite Falls, the Royal Arches, Half Dome, Glacier Point, and the Sentinel. Oh, the beauty and the grandeur of it all! Surely here we could say that, “Beauty is crystalized in object form, and sublimity is materialized in granite.” It makes one feel so small and insignificant to stand in the presence of such mighty works of God. While we were looking about us, trying to take in the splendor around us: the clear, sparkling, trout-filled river, the picturesque camps scattered along its banks, the mountains, trees and flowers, our road turned suddenly and we came in sight of what shall always be to me, the gem of the Yosemite, Mirror Lake, just before sunrise. There it lay, surrounded on every side by high, rocky cliffs, fringed with trees and foliage, a truly gigantic mirror. Every rock, every tree, everything about it was reflected in its placid waters as perfectly as though it were a piece of glass. We dismounted and tied our horses, then walked to the water’s edge to wait for the sun to appear. Suddenly there was a soft, silver glow in the water. “Look, look, the sun, the sun!” There it was climbing slowly over the mountain tops, peeping at itself in the mirror, shyly at first, then more boldly, until it finally stood forth in all its glory and brightness, casting the most beautiful amber lights in the water. By the time the light had spread over the lake, the perfect mirror effect had disappeared, so we reluctantly mounted our horses and turned away from Mirror Lake, with another wonderful picture stored away in our mind.

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IN COVENTRY AND OUT BARRETT KIESLING, ’13 “Say, fellows, I move we send Leslie Carter to Coventry. A boy that has no more sand and grit than he has should be ostracized for life.” “You bet. A fellow that wlil stand by and let his chum drown ought to be hooted out of school.” These indignant statements arose from a group of boys on the cam- pus at Horrowell “prep” school one beautiful afternoon in spring. It was the outcome of one of those regrettable incidents that mar school life for many boys. Leslie Carter, the best swimmer in school, had lost his nerve at a critical moment while swimming with his chum who, being struck with cramps, was unable to hold himself above the water. Leslie, for some unaccountable physical reason, was unable to make a move to help his school friend. His schoolmates, quick to judge right and wrong, took the stand that he had a “yellow streak” and they unanimously sen- tenced him to “Coventry.” Coventry is the name given by school boys to the practice of absolute ostracism of any boy committing an unfair or dishonorable act. It is the worst possible thing that could happen to a boy, for, while under the sentence of “Coventry,” he is shunned by his fellows like a pariah. A boy walked rapidly down the path from the Academy, carrying several books under his arm. A small school cap was perched upon his mop of curly brown hair. A well-developed figure and a strong face formed an exceedingly pleasing combination. His face, however, was clouded and, as he met the group, he bent his eyes to the ground and passed without a word. Immediately after his passing, the group fell into a buzz of recrimi- nation and indignant talk. The ringing of the bell for recitations, how- ever, drove all other thoughts from their minds for the time being. Leslie Carter, pursuing a moody and lonely way to his room, felt blue and down in the mouth. Unavoidably meeting with some of his former closest friends, he received stony looks and averted faces in reply to a friendly “Good morning.” Such things are not especially favorable for a light and happy frame of mind and we cannot blame him for feeling extremely unhappy. Reaching his room, he ran into his roommate coming out with a load of clothes, books and small pieces of furniture. “Why, Harry,” he cried, “surely you aren’t thinking of moving? Surely you don’t think I would have let him drown if I had been able in any way to save him? Have I ever been a coward on the football field or the track? Did you ever know me to flinch in athletics? T can’t explain how: adh “That’s enough; that is all I want to know,” coldly replied his former friend and confidant. “Your lack of an explanation for your conduct has branded you as a despicable coward. Tonight you will be in ‘Covent ry’, which will not lift until you leave school. Kindly let me pass.”