Stockton High School - Guard and Tackle Yearbook (Stockton, CA)

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W Y ui hi 4.-1 Y- 7- :-11111: rr m- ' T ' ' was a summons to the office of the newly appointed presi- dent, whoever he was. Dane realized what the result would be. However he knew that he could tender his resignation and leave the place with the clear conscience of one who has done what he thinks is right. Mechanically he opened the envelope and read the mes- sage. At first he could not comprehend what it meant- and then? Well, he simply smiled! This was the message: Dane Gordon, This is to notify you Board of Trustees elected you Pres- ident of S. C. Co. Congratulations on way you handled strike. Dean White, Chairman of Board. And so President Gordon still had use, though a differ- ent one than he had expected, for the resignation which he had penned fromi- the General Managership. -William Wright, '20. THE PRICELESS JEWEL Girls, don't you think it is awful the way Mary Everett does parade in those new pearls of hers? asked Marjorie as she passed a cup of cocoa to her chum who reclined com- fortably on the window seat among the cushions, and made a face at Ellen in a similar position on the sofa. Awful is no name for it. l shall never wear pearls again after last night, promised Nell. I certainly don't envy her any. Now if I had them, I shouldn't want to show them off so, Ellen offered, as she grimaced at her sugarless cocoa. I shouldn't want pearls. They are not worn any more. What I should like to have is that new kind of jewel. lt is perfectly wonderful, don't you think? And it is so fright- fully expensive too. Goodness! I just suggested it to Dad for my birthday Cyou know this is my birthday? and he gg, -Y .,.-Y 1-0111: M, ni. ,. wanted to know if I thought he was a mint. ,So I know there is no hope from that direction, said Marjorie. lf one of us just had one, wouldn't Miss Mary sit up and take notice? Oh, boy! exulted Ellen. That night Marjorie waited for Jack. She wondered what his present to her would be. He always gave her something nice. She vaguely hoped it would be the jewel she coveted but discarded the thought and determined to be pleased with whatever it might be, for Jack's sake, be- cause she-well-didn't exactly hate jack. She did not wait long before Jack entered. Hello, Marjorie, come here and see what I have for you. Marjorie took the little package and removed the wrap- ping. She unclasped the cover and stood speechless with surprise. Don't you like it? jack asked anxiously. Like it! you dear boy! lt's just what I wanted. lsn't it wonderfull For there, lying in a bed of satin, was the most priceless jewel mortal eyes could then gaze upon, the jewel of her dreams,1a small cube of white sugar! -Lois Gadbury, '20. THE GREAT STONE Below the Great Stone stood a small urchin smoking a charred, black pipe. His hands were thrust deep in his pockets, and in his small face was expressed the wisdom and experience that can be obtained only in the squalid, sordid conditions of the slum life from which he had come. l Ie was peering up through a tuft of hair at the strange inscriptions carved on the stone. As his eyes wandered fur- ther up, he noticed, almost at the top, the name of George Washington, below it, also, were carved the names of sev- eral others of the world's great men. As the little waif Y W f -xl: -n-at mfr'-fini: mis glg- 3-Q-:gn I 11:71:14 is If: C: -ff -r

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q..........-..-...........-..-.....-..- - - - - .. - - - -..-.........-..-..-.......-....-..-............- - - - -..-..................-...................... What did Cordon do? l-le merely stepped forward and smiled one of those rare, winning smiles of his. After a few seconds he asked the mob's permission to question our leader. Having received this, he again called Stock- sky forward. His first question was, Are you a naturalized citizen? Gordon observed that the majority of the workers gave a great start and leaned forward in their seats to catch the answer. No, snarled the Russian. How long have you lived in America? next asked Dane. Four years, was the reply. How old are you? followed. Thirty-one years, was the answer. The next question seemed unnecessary to the audience: Are you or have you ever been married? A surly No. The men gasped as they heard Dane next say, Did you enlist in the army during the war? The Russian, his face darkening as he now perceived the intent of the question, refused to answer. Somebody away back in the audience volunteered the information that Stocksky had not enlisted, that in fact he had evaded the draft. Gordon observed that the attitude of many in the mob was changing toward the Russian. He turned to them and queried, Boys, how many of you served in the army? Nearly three-fourths of them signified that they had. How many of you that served are married men? About one-half of them raised their hands. That will do, said Dane. Stocksky, you may take your seat. ls there anybody else that wants to speak? Nobody came forward. Won't somebody please rise and tell us why we have declared a strike. Was it because our pay was not suHici- ent? Not a sound from the mob. Well then, said Gordon, if none of you will speak, I will. l will tell you why we struck. We were led on by a man that is not even an American-a man that, although he is unmarried, refused to serve in the U. S. army. l ob- serve that a big majority of us served in the army although we were married men. Are we, now, as Americans, going to be led on by a man who is a foreigner, a man who does not love our country, a man who would like to see America go to hell. The strikers began to get angry. A mighty roar of no swept forth from them. Well then, said Dane, l am an American. l am ready to lead you. Will you follow me? Once more Gordon smiled. You bet. We sure will. Yes, shouted the strikers. Dane Gordon was now the leader. All right then let's go back to our jobs. We have delayed long enough. l am leaving for the city in an hour, and l expect to ride on a regular train. ln concluding, finished Gordon, I will say that every man who goes back to his work this afternoon will find an additional check in his pay envelope on the first of the month. Amidst a mighty roar, Gordon left the hall. Needless to say he rode back to San Francisco on a train. However he was extremely sober for a man who had won such a victory. He knew that he would be requested to resign for overstepping his authority. But he meant to, forestall this by submitting a resignation he had just written. Over- come with sober refiection, just as the train was pulling into Oakland, he heard his name shouted. Looking up, he ob- served a messenger boy with a yellow envelope coming towards him. Cordon stopped the boy and took the envel- ope, which proved to be a telegram. He felt sure that this 1:1 :1:Y:: 3 I nz- 3:7 1 1 1 1 1 1..1u1.p1..1pp1p.1n1.g1n1..1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1u1n1n1.u-.nn-n1q1u1q1gq1q9-q1...-..1q1q

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--- - --137-sg -Y -rg fx -W -1: an Dil .I-lx-gr I-91: ,,,Y 1' Yu l1ls1u1::7r: looked up the great perpendicular stone, the natural leer on his face was intensified, and he laughed derisively, as those who are small do laugh at those who are great. Taking out his knife, he started to carve his name,-but no! -he would not carve it below these noted men. Wasn't he just as good? Surely. He would write above all others in big, broad letters, so that all might see. Slowly and painstakingly he broke a small niche in the rock, into which he placed a foot, then another niche where he placed the other foot, until he had scaled the great height. Holding tight, in his precarious position, he started to cut his name, but, with the first stroke, the knife broke and fell from his hand: What was he to do? To descend was impossible, for each time, as he had raised his foot from its resting place, the stone had crumbled away, leaving a Hat, smooth surface. As the memorial was situated in a remote part of the city, it would aid him none to call for help, and the only beings who saw were the wee sparrows, who, undecided whether to be friends or not with this queer creature which clung so desperately to the rock, fluttered nervously around. Night came, and away in the distance cheery lights ap- peared in the homes, but around the boy there was only darkness. Suddenly the ledge on which he was standing crumbled, throwing him, broken, to the earth beneathg while the names of those great men stood untouched. And above the name of our first president remains only the blank, Hat surface of the Great Stone. -Beryl Wellington, '2I. PHILIP CASTER AND THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER Through the lace curtain of the parlor in Mrs. Mahony's boarding house on West Fifty-fifth Street came the sounds of singing and laughter, accompanied by the tones of a player piano. Prom the kitchen came the clink of dishes being washed by Sadie, the maid of all work, whose friend was now waiting for her in the alley. But if any one had been near enough to a certain window of a third story-back room, a different sound would have been heard. This was a long-drawn-out sigh, almost of the sob variety. And now let us take a peep into the room from which the near sob issued. It was ia small room, one in which Mrs. Mahony placed her would-be boarders who did not look altogether promising, or who did not offer to pay in advance. Seated on the bed, staring out of the window at the lights of the city was a young man probably twenty- one years of age. ln his hand he held a letter, and it was this letter that explained that almost feminine sigh. Geel he muttered, what's the use trying. She'll never care for me any more. Why, even now mother writes that she's tagging around with Ted Buttrickf' A telephone bell gave its warning below. Telephone for Mr. Philip Caster, called Sadie up the stairs. Phil jumped up with a start. Could it be possible? No, he could never entertain such hopes again: he had been dis- appointed too many times. It was probably Mr. Sloan tell- ing him to report promptly in the morning. But as he took up the receiver, he had hoped in his heart that it would be' some one from home, for, to tell the truth, Phil had a bad case of homesickness. Over the wire came a voice, and, sure enough, it was a familiar one, that of Ted Buttrick, more formally called Theodore Jr., on whom Phil now looked as his rival. Well, well, how's the boy? he said. Phil, in his pleasure at hearing a familiar voice, over- looked that patronizing boy, liliznxzfzr W:-ar :Wlf -- :fn 1- 7'- , i : ::1n-::1n1n- 11:73 -I-11.14,