University of California Los Angeles - Bruin Life / Southern Campus Yearbook (Los Angeles, CA)

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What the long- reaches of the peaks of Song-, The rift of dawn, the reddening ' of the rose? Throiig-h this dread shape the suffering- ages look; Time ' s tragedy is in that aching stoop ; Throug-h this dread shape humanity betraA ' ed, Plundered, profaned and disinherited, Cries protest to the Judges of the World, A protest that is also prophecy. O masters, lords and rulers in all lands, Is this the handiwork you give to God, This monstrous thing distorted and soul-quenched How will you ever straighten up this shape ; Give back the upward looking and the li ht ; Rebuild in the music and the dream ; Touch it again with immortality : Make right the immemorial infamies, Perfidious wrongs, immedicable woes? O masters, lords and rulers in all lands. How will the Future reckon with this Man ? How answer this brute question in that hour When whirlwinds of rebellion shake the world ? How will it be with kingdoms and with kings — With those who shaped him to the thing he is — When this dumb Terror shall reply to God, After the silence of the centuries ? The Legend ot Death Valley. T E last ravs of the setting sun g-loritied the fields of ripe vj grain and the bare-brown hills, and lighted and warmed the quaint yellow San Diego Mission until it looked as if each block of adobe were remembering the time when it was covered with fresh, waving flowers. The angelus rang out sweet and clear, and at its call the monks, the Spanish soldiers and the Indian converts went to chapel for prayers. With the Indians, a soberly-clad group for the most part, came in a dusk}- Indian girl strangely unlike the rest. She walked in a gleam of gold — necklace, bracelets, chain upon chain decked her lavishly. And she was as far unlike her com- panions in manners. Once seated in the chapel, the others -settled themselves to a devout absorption in the services, their eyes fixed piously upon the priest. This one face turned ever ao-ain and again to the soldiers ' side of the chapel and

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Edith Peckham, Department Editor. 4 California Poem. THE MAN WITH THE HOE. WRITTEN- AFTER SEEIXG MILLET ' S WORLD-FAMOUS PAINTING, NOW IN SAN FRANCISCO. By Edwin Markham. Bowed by the weig-ht of centuries he leans Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground, The emptiness of ages in his face, And on his back the burden of the world. Who made him dead to rapture and despair, A thing that grieves not and that never hopes. Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox ? Who loosened and let down his brutal jaw ? Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow ? Whose breath blew out the light within this brain ? Is this the Thing the Lord God made and gave To have dominion over sea and land ; To trace the stars and search the heavens for power ; To feel the passion of Eternity ? Is this the Dream He dreamed who shaped the suns And pillared the blue firmament with light ? Down all the stretch of Hell to its last gulf There is no shape more terrible than this— More tongued with censure of the world ' s blind greed- More filled with signs and portents for the soul- More fraught with menance to the universe. What gulfs between him and the seraphim ! Slave of the wheel of labor, what to him Are Plato and the swing of Pleiades ?

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studied intently a certain young- Spaniard yh() sat there. As she watched him telling- the beads of his rosary she could see a diamond which he wore, flashing- in the dust of the chapel. This sparkling stone was not unknown to her, for, among the ignorant, superstitious Indians, it had come to be thought that this strange bright thing was the sunbeams, themselves, captured and caged. While the owner of it, who chanced to be the orih ' man in Father Serro ' s expedition wearing a diamond, was regarded as a mighty magician, able to imprison the sunbeams. Soon, the worshippers came out ag-ain into the cool twilight and loitered off or lingered in groups. The soldier with the diamond, Ferdinand Arguella, stood talking with some of his companions, half aware of an Indian girl who stood close by, watching him silenth ' . Presently, some chance turning- his eye her way, the gleam of gold startled him into turning to give her a direct inyestigating- look, and he was astonished at the splendor and number of her gold orna- ments. As soon as the girl, known as Tehama, saw that he was noticing her, she moved toward him. Holding out a rich gold bracelet, she said, The red magician of mj- tribe sends this g-reeting to the mig-hty w hite magician. Ferdinand answered: To me. Is it to me he pays such honor ? Yes, Tehama said, impressively 3 ' es, the red ma- gician of my tribe knows much magic, but not all. The white magician is very wise. I am Tehama. The red ma- gician taught me. I can do many things, but not all, so I am sent to learn more mag-ic from you. All this time Ferdinand stood examining the bracelet, and thinking with g-rowing greed how much he would like to know where she found that gold. Suddenly, he remembered having- heard some of his Spanish companions laugh about the superstitious awe with which the Indians regarded him and his diamond. Amused, but more interested (while care- lessly- turning the ring around his fing-er), he inquired, What would the mighty sorceress of the desert like me to teach her ? In a loM% earnest tone Tehama answered, Mighty Senor, teach me the secret of imprisoning the sunbeams, and the