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

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This last rebuff was too much for the boy’s overburdened feelings and tears rushed to his eyes. Brushing them away, he clenched his teeth and said, “Going to ostracize me from school, are they? This is where they get badly fooled. I’m going to stick this thing out if it takes all the century,” and with this defiant resolve he dashed for his next recita- tion. Things went on in the same manner for several weeks. Leslie Car- ter was still in Coventry. All groups and conversations broke up upon his approach; in the athletic room he was always left the sole possessor of a bench, and in the eating hall his table was always vacated upon his approach. Even with his attitude of defiance he found this relentless ostracism a tremendous strain upon his will-power. He at last took his meals after the rest of the school had finished and substituted long walks for the regular athletic work to which he had been accustomed. He was sorely missing that one thing that makes school life enjoyable, that spirit of comraderie which accepts a boy for what he is, not for what society and money have done for him, and he was rapidly budding into a morose, sullen, defiant man when an incident occurred which changed the whole course of feeling towards him. One night just on the eve of the Easter vacation, when the whole dormitory was quietly sleeping, out rang the alarm of fire. Leslie awoke with a start. Sticking his head out of the window, he saw the flames shooting out of the top of the dormitory. Suddenly it flashed into his mind, “The Pelton twins are up there, locked in their room for disobeying the master.” Slipping on his clothes and a pair of slippers, he ran up the stairs, three steps at a time. Soon, however, he was forced to halt on account of the flames and the choking smoke. Shielding his face with his arm, he rushed up to the door of the room in which the boys were, and, with superhuman strength, born of necessity, he crashed through the door with one blow of his shoulder and, snatching one of the already stifled boys in his arms and throwing the other over his shoulder, he staggered down the already burning stairs. As he crossed the threshold into the outside air, a cheer greetd him and, falling in a faint, he was caught by a hundred boys who rushed to him. In a few moments he opened his bloodshot eyes. His old chum, Harry, was supporting his head, while the other boys looked on solicit- ously. Suddenly a cheer broke out, “Rah, Rah, Rah! Carter, Carter! Rah, Rah, Carter! Rah, Rah, Rah!” Sinking back, he smiled a happy smile and said, “Thank God, I’m out of ‘Coventry’ ”’, and again fell into a dead faint. A REMINISCENCE MAUD HERRING, ’13 From the first moment I arrived in Rome it seemed to me as if I were in a dream, and from various comments it evidently showed plainly in my face.

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The day after we arrived in Rome we enjoyed a visit to that world- famed Amphitheater, the Coliseum. After viewing the exterior, and ex- hausting every exclamation in the English language, we strolled inside. There the proportions are so gigantic that nobody, I care not who he be, can truly realize the enormity of it until he views it for himself. As our guide explained its appearance at the time of Nero, with its gorgeous scarlet velvet and gold curtains, I became so carried away with it all, that it evidently was quite noticeable. So our guide, with one pitying glance, turned to me and said, “What a pity you didn’t live at the time of Nero!” But no less was I impressed with Saint Peter’s at Rome, the largest and most imposing cathedral in the world. Within the interior of the Cathedral there is not one painting to be seen, each work of art being a fresco, the entire number of which were nearly all painted by Michael Angelo alone. The choicest fresco, however, is by Bellini, which consists of the magnificent canopy beneath the dome. This exquisite masterpiece is carried out in the rarest of tints and is encircled by a design of en- crusted gold. There is a little chapel in Saint Peter’s of marvelous workmanship, a rare jewel, which is a perfect miniature of Saint Peter himself. The dome, facade, surrounding columns and, to the most minute details, all are copied in perfect exactness. In the center of this Cathedral is an enormous canopy of gold and malakite, beneath which are steps of precious stone, with a hand railing also of gold, which lead down to the vault where lie, in a golden casket, the will and ashes of Saint Peter. Here one of the most exquisite pieces of workmanship is displayed, which consists of a mosaic of the Head of Christ, completed in the fourth century. The background of the picture is nothing but tiny squares of gold, and to this fact is due the cause for its splendid preservation. It seems almost impossible to realize that the people of the fourth century possessed such remarkable genius, for, at the present day, a more perfect fresco could not be produced. We will now journey to the Vatican, which, of course, is noteworthy for its richly embellished interior, as well as artistic and literary treasures stored within. One of the finest parts is the Sistine Chapel, the crowning beauty of which is the wonderfully painted ceiling and “Last Judgement” on the altar-wall. This is Michael Angelo’s greatest work, for here his magnificent genius shines forth brilliantly. As space is fast filled, and mine is limited, we must journey to the Catacombs. The use of the Catacombs as a place of refuge during the periods of the Christian persecution is only too well-known, and these wonderfully devised secret passages form a link between the classical and Christian periods. Trappist Monks now guide you through, first supplying each one with a candle about four inches long. The descent into the Catacombs themselves is by a great number of stone steps, and, as you leave the hot Itailan weather below, you receive your first realization of what the