University of Santa Clara - Redwood Yearbook (Santa Clara, CA)

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20 THE REDWOOD was here unconsciously that Claude made his first deep impression on the students of Valley University — with his fingernails. On the facade of Ju- nior hall are two balconies. Each sub- tends four windows of a Moorish type that blend splendidly with the mission lines of the building. On the north the balcony is unimportant save that it opens into the junior chapel. On the south it forms a convenient passageway between rooms 51 and 53. To 51 several college men carried the l imp form of Claude Adrian, and the Platinum Print. Give him air, was the brief com- mand of Duke. The word was enough and the crowd vacated to emerge riot- ing as usual on the Arcade steps. Take your knee out of his stom- ach, cautioned a reproachful voice, as looking at the scene of disaster the boys saw the ponderous limb of Fat Chesario apparently buried in the un- resisting vitals of Bartholomew. Why don ' t you jump on his head a few times r advised another. By the time Fat had risen the crowd was around him. Oh, he exclaimed modestly, I just gave him an Infirmary Special. ' Before leaving Milpitas, Claude had encountered and been the victim of the intense Leland U. spirit that seems to permeate the villages lying about that nob]e institution. The Spirit had been personified for Claude in the person of one Desmond O ' Melveny, who forgetful of ancestral affiliations, visited severe displeasure on all youthful Milpitites who evinced a preference for Valley University. Despite the confusion in- cident to the arrival of his piano-box at Valley, Claude had not forgotten the equally unpleasant farewell ten- dered him at Milpitas by Desmond and his Leland friends. He even suspected the surprising weakness of the piano- box was to Desmond attributable — and he was right. One night a few months later, the fatigued respiration of a discouraged Ford ceased under the restraining in- fluence of Desmond O ' Melveny and Clarence Lacquerre, two Leland sopho- mores. We ' ll give them the rase tonight, huh Desmond? The old raspberry is right but don ' t talk so loud, they may have guards around. ' ' Alighting from the car they stole cautiously forward along the edge of Dean Richards garden, paused in the shadow of Administration Building and then made boldly for the pile of ties, boxes and logs lying ready to be built into the Funeral Pyre of Leland U. Claude Adrian was a temperamental boy. Nothing else saved Valley from lasting humiliation. In carelessly working out some geometry construc- tion for Prof. ' Radian, Claude ' s roommate had dropped so many per- pendiculars that Claude ' s head ached. Rising from a sleepless bed he threw open the Moorish window and sought

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Good Cleopatra Arthur D. Spearman. INCE the big game when we humbled Leland, a peculiar association of thought has existed be- tween the little town of Milpitas and room 51 — Junior Hall. In the out- skirts of Milpitas is a rather retiring home standing behind palms, locusts and prodigal oleanders and scarcely visible from the road. In this spot some years ago Claude Ed- ward Adrian first taught his father the pain of a sleepless night and even in his cradle commenced the study of his fingernails. Their culture he has since become familiar with to an amazing de- gree. Claude ' s father was a poet; he wore flowing ties, velvet hats and ate opium. This last perhaps explains the dreamy fingernails of Claude, first and only hope of the family. With a dash and snap that even the Freshmen commented upon as rash, old Bartholomew Buchanan, hereditery baggage man of Valley University, drove through the Alemeda gate amid a chorus of greetings from the Arcade, drew sudden rein on the horse and stop- ped. Did I say Bartholomew was old? He was — nay, antiquated — one of the original Franciscans claimed Bartholo- mew was raised in the mission eleva- tor. However true this may be, he is old, his horse is old, his jokes are old and his wagon too, for that is one of his jokes. At the opening of the 19 — season, Bartholomew, as we have agreed, drove with unbecoming rapidity into the campus and stopped, that is, the horse stopped — too efficiently. Bartholomew made a flying effort, and his load, a moderate sized piano-box, reeled dizzi- ly sideways and crashed open upon the ground. A cry of horror echoed down the Arcade. Not from Bartholo- mew, he was. past the effort ; not from the horse, he stood wickedly calm. The cry was again heard and a small lithe figure ran toward the disordered piano- box. ' ' Oh my picture, my picture ! ' ' shrieked Claude as, burrowing frantic- ally towards the center of confusion, he dashed aside red flannel B. D. X ' s, victrola records and scattered dabs of raspberry jam. Quickly rising he held aloft a Platinum Print: a radiance of beauty smiling demurely upon his up- turned face. ' ' Thank God you ' re not hurt, Marie, ' ' burst from his anxious lips, and over- come with emotion he fainted in the arms of Duke — the varsity captain. It 19

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THE REDWOOD 21 inspiration from the journeying moon that rose a crescent in the sky. The effect was immediate. His sleeply roommate observed his fingers to twitch nervously; his hair waved strangely in the night ' s breath and weird references to Cleopatra, the ivory palace of the Nile, impassioned words from the heart of Antony followed from Claude ' s moon-kissed lips. Suddenly the dreamy rapture ceased, he sprang to the bedside of his room- mate and shouted: ' They ' re coming, quick get up. They ' ll burn every- thing. ' ' Who, the Romans? asked the tired one. No! Fellows from Leland, quick, get up ! In another minute he had aroused all the junior division. With a speed that delighted the heart of Father Pre- fect, the cry, All Out cleared the building and as Desmond and Clar- ence searched furiously for misplaced matches the angry mob was upon them. Crown ' em, roared one husky; Down with the Slickers, piped an- other; Into the tank, gained most favor, and sturdy arms were rushing the disgruntled pair to the Gym when Duke and the Senior Police squad ar- rived to quell the riot. Out of the way, you rats, the voice of Duke seldom rose in anger, but now he meant business. Is this the way you treat strangers? he roared. Striding through the excited juniors to the Leland boys he lifted both bodily over the crowd, the police squad formed about him and conducted them to the Banquet Room. Expecting punishment more brutal than that promised by the juniors, Desmond and Clarence were ill at ease. Unable to explain their forcible introduction to the dining room they settled sheepish- ly into chairs assigned them and glared sullenly at their captors. Presently rather savory whiffs became sensible in the air. Their pride forbade looking around since the captors remained sto- lid. For ten minutes the strained situ- ation continued. Hurrah, shouted the police and following the direction of their glances the Leland boys beheld Duke advanc- ing with a sizzling plate of steaks; be- hind him assistants with coffee and frosted cake. Next morning the City papers had it. Claude Adrian ' s name edged out the glaring war headlines and all political gossip was crowded to second page. The daring attempt of Leland and the chivalrous entertainment provided by Valley boys held the entire stage. Marie, called a quiet voice from the shade of a clump of oleanders. Aren ' t you out rather early this morning? Marie, walking past the Adrian home in Milpitas, paused and turned demurely at the greeting. Mr. Adrian, you startled me, your voice is so much like Claude ' s. I am