Westwood High School - Chipmunk Yearbook (Westwood, CA)

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Page Twenty-two The Chipmunk Old Ben watched him until he was lost in the distance. A week later old Ben decided to go to La Portage for provisions. It was a hike of about forty miles. He took two empty pack sacks to bring home his winter provisions. He had gone scarcely ten miles when he saw a figure in blue overalls, half buried in the snow. It took him but a few moments to recognize it. It was Stubbs! B. M., '28. APRIL FOOL’S DAY The origin of April Fool's Day is not known. One investigator claimed that it originated at the time of the flood when Noah made the mistake of letting the dove out before the water had abated. He claims this day was created to preserve the memory of the event. The most reasonable explanation of this day is that which ascribes the origin of the custom to France. This nation took the lead over the Christian world when it started the year on January first instead of March twenty-fifth. Before the change was made the celebration culminated on the octave of the feast which was then April first, and gifts were given and visits paid. When the new calendar was adopted in 1564 New Year's day was carried back to January first and only mock visits and pretended gifts were given on April first, with the view of making fools of those who had forgotten the change in date. The custom was at once started and kept up. even after its origin had been for- gotten. It is not impossible that the English derived this custom from the French, for in spite of all guesses there are no records of the custom in Great Britain until the beginning of the eighteenth century. What are known as “sleeveless” errands are a great favorite in England on this day. Such are: sending one to a bookstore to buy a copy of the “History of Adam's Grandmother.” or to a grocery store for a pint of pigeon’s milk, or to a cobbler’s for some strap oil. Usually the cobbler, if he were on to the game, would give the victim the strap and oil to moisten it. —R. J., ’28. WHY THE CHIPMUNK IS LITTLE In the olden days when Jupiter was ruling the universe, Pluto the under- world, and Neptune the waters, when Apollo was god of the sun, and Diana was goddess of the moon, there lived in a sparsely populated part of the Greek world a chipmunk. The chipmunk was not sacred to any gods and he was glad of it, saying he could take care of himself. The chipmunk was also, as I should have said, a large animal about the size of our California grizzly bear. He was very proud of his strength, being next to king of beasts. He thought as some people do, “I’m best and you’re next best.” One day, as he was strutting about knocking small animals over and kicking them out of his path, he met a woman. The moment he saw her he knocked her down and would have eaten her, but he saw a curious light in her eyes. He did not wish an encounter with an immortal so he let her go. As soon as the old woman had regained her feet she said, “You will hurt an old woman, will you? If only the god of mortals can hear me you will hurt no more peo-

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The Chipmunk Page Tivenly-one VENGEANCE OF THE STORM Old Ben Grayson was a lucky man; or at least that was what he thought when he struck one of the richest gold mines in Alaska. He was so excited that he quit work an hour earlier by way of celebration. When he entered, his cabin was dark except for a pale beam of light which penetrated the small, dirty window. He could barely discern a figure occupying the only chair which the room afforded. Somewhat taken aback, he was about to retreat out the door when a harsh voice said rather suddenly, “Stick ’em up!” The old man obeyed promptly, not knowing at what moment the intruder might shoot. “Hear you’ve struck it rich,” remarked the stranger, meaningly. “Maybe I did, and maybe I didn’t,” said Ben, angrily. “None of that, now. I’ve got hold of this dump and I mean to get what’s coming to me.” “Never fear, you’ll get your deserts soon enough.” said old Ben. heatedly. That night the stranger occupied the bed while Ben slept on the floor. He awoke several times during the night, but being unarmed he could do nothing against the intruder with his rifle. The next morning old Ben prepared breakfast under the watchful eye of Stubbs, as the stranger called himself. Now hustle along to the mine. I haven’t long to stay in these parts.” When they had reached the mine, old Ben thought he would have a rest, but Stubbs was adamant. “Get down there and go to work!” he said. “I’ll take a smoke and then lend a hand.” All day they toiled. When the sun at last sank they were both too tired to complain. Stubbs always cleaned the riffles of the “Long Tom” and put the coarse gold in a chamois bag. After a week’s hard labor Stubbs announced his intention to start for civilization. During the night a heavy wind came up. It whipped the ground furiously. With its cessation, tiny flakes of snow began to fall, gradually increasing until the air was filled with the white particles. Stubbs cursed roundly, when he saw the change of weather. “I’ll go anyway.” he said stubbornly. He ate breakfast hastily and after packing some food in an oilskin bag, he took the two chamois bags of gold and slung them into the pack. Then adjust- ing a pair of clumsy snowshoes, he started out.

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The Chipmunk Page Twenly-lhree pie!” She asked Jupiter many times if he would grant her but one wish. At last he heard her and asked her wish. She said, “I have a very small wish: make the chipmunk forget he is big.” When the chipmunk heard this he would have sprung upon her, but he forgot he was large and strong, and thought he was a mere weakling about the size of a mouse. He kept thinking he was small until he actually began to grow smaller and smaller, until he was as he is now, a little bigger than a mouse. —C. C.. ’28. NO. 3. THAT'S ALL Hello! hello! that you Vogel? Coach Akely talking. Come right over to the house, will you?—yeh, a bunch of tough luck—all right, snap it up.” Lee Vogel, a second-rate distance runner of Alden Union High School, hung up the receiver and turned to his father. Coach wants to see me, Dad: be right back. He slipped on a sweater and grabbed his cap and hurried down the steps and out into the street. A quiet, serious-faced group of fellows met his glance around the room as he entered the coach’s house: Peters, captain of the team and star hurdler: Waters, who could heave a javelin like a Greek warrior; and Hadlick, athletic manager. Something in the atmosphere of the room told Vogel that all was not well. Sit down, Lee,” said the coach, as his eye ran over the slight, but trim figure standing before him. I suppose you wonder what we want of you. Vogel?” In answer to the boy’s nod, the coach went on, Bailey broke his leg this morning fooling around that confounded motorcycle. You will have to run against Baird at the meet tomorrow.” Like a thunderbolt out of a clear sky, the words struck the boy. He gasped: But coach, Baird's men can run circles around me.” Never mind that, you do your best. Now let’s see. Ingle can take the 880 all right, but that means someone else to take his place in the javelin. Waters, you’ll have to win that. Peters of course will take the hurdles. Baird’s hurdler is down in his studies. The broad jump and high jump rather worry me. but we will have to depend on our men to place. See, old man, you haven’t a snap ahead of you: don't get that idea, but do your best.” After a few more minutes of conjecturing and figuring of chances, the little group disbanded and went home. At the corner where Hadlick and Lee parted, the big Dutchman turned to him and looked down on him from his six-feet of bone and muscle. Boy,” he said, it’s up to you. I wish to Heavens I could run, but foot- ball is the only sport for me. Maybe they'll beat you, boy, but make them run for it. So long.” As Hadlick left him, Vogel turned slowly homeward, a thousand thoughts rushing through his mind. Why had they picked him of all men. to run against Baird? For years Baird’s runners had ranked high in the lists, and they had placed him, a second-rate miler, to run against them. Well, thank God, he was in training and fit to run. and he would fight them to the last bitter stride. Saturday, the day of the meet, dawned warm and clear. The last few days Vogel had devoted to intensive training, and although his speed increased a