Woodland High School - Ilex Yearbook (Woodland, CA)

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THE ILEX 25 The Black Mask Percival Dewitt Chester was the sissy of Ferndale High School. He was not only handicapped by the name Percival Dewitt, but his mother had petted and coddled him until at the age of seventeen and a Senior in Ferndale High, he was the laughing stock of the school. But the funny part of it was that Percival Dewitt seemed to enjoy being a sissy, for even after all the taunts of his classmates, he continued lo bring his teacher flowers and polish the nails of his small white hands until they shone brighter than those of any girl in the school. Percival Dewitt was a typical sissy not only in manners and dress, but in figure as well: for his body was short and slim: his eyes, set deep in his head, peered from behind a pair of large horn- rimmed spectacles, his mouth was very smallg but his ears, which were always red, were very large and protruding. Needless to say, he was mother's only son. But Percival Dewitt had one tormentor whom he could not stand. Ever since they were Freshman together, Roger Channing, the sheik of Ferndale High, and Percival Dewitt Chester had been enemies. Although Roger was much more popular with both the boys and girls, he did not spend much time on his lessons. Consequently, whenever his enemy's name appeared on the honor roll, which it often did, Roger's father would say, Well, son, I see your rival beat you again this month. His name is on the honor roll, but where is yours? His mother would sigh and reply, If you would only spend as much time on your lessons as Percival Chester, perhaps you could have as good a record every month. And Roger would stalk out of the room grumbling, Yes, I suppose I would be better off if I were a 'sissy' like 'Percy' Dewitt, mama's darling. Now Percival Dewitt could bear the laughing taunts of the rest of the school, but when Roger Channing began to taunt him, he vowed revenge. He knew not what he was going to do, but revenge he would have. Little did he dream that his chance was near. All the school was excited over the lVlasqued Ball to be given by the Juniors of Ferndale High. In between classes groups of excited girls could be seen conversing in the, halls. Oh, what are you going to wear to the ball? With whom are you going? Who is Roger Channing going to take? These were some of the many ques- tions asked. At last the night for the Masqued Ball had arrived and a merry, disguised crowd had assembled. Pierrots and Pierretes, bold Spanish Dons and their coy Senoritas, brave soldiers and nurses, shy nuns and grave friars, demure Chinese maids and impas- sive coolies---all danced and made a gay picture. In the midst of all, the couple that drew the most attention was a tall, dark, handsome pirate, gaily dancing with a tiny, vivacious ballet girl. Who were they? Many recognized Roger Channing as the dashing pirate, but who was the golden-haired ballet girl with the fluffy pink tarleton dress? Even Roger wondered. For although he danced many times with this girl during the ,evening, she would not speak a word. Say, Goldie-Locks, don't keep a poor fellow in suspense, what's your name? begged Roger. You dance wonderfully well. But a pair of blue eyes only mocked him from behind a little black mask. Anyway, he continued, desperately, I'll know who you are when we unmask at ll:30. But a meek voice only answered, Maybe Roger would have liked to have danced with the bewitching little girl oftener, but gallant Spanish Dons, Pierrots and others, sought her favor. The time was slowly passing and llI30 was drawing near. As Roger glanced at his watch for the fiftieth time he muttered, Who the deuce is she? I've met her somewhereg I know l have. Only ten more minutes until we unmask. Say, I guess I'd

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THE ILEX Ode to the Seniors As the craft that floats on the distant sea, Is steered on its course by destiny, So, dear friend, is the path we tread Planned for us so long ahead. Now that our High School days are o'er, Our little craft floats away from shore, To be tossed about by the Winds of Time, And tested in storms, your life and mine. Some little craft will be wrecked before It has even lost sight of the old home shoreg Some little ship will traverse the sea To the port beyond, land Victory. All we can do is our very best, A Higher Power must do the rest, But let our course be straight and true Unweakened by the storms passed through. Dear friends, our trip is just begun, Let us sail our ship So that at the end of the trip The Captain will say, Well done. --DOROTHY BIGELOW.

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26 THE ILEX better go and claim this dance or Ted Miller will dance another with her. If I only knew who she was, he thought, as he made his way through the crowd to the side of the ballet dancer. Say, Goldie-Locks, don't forget this is mine, Roger gallantly asserted, and she silently acquiesced. At the end of the dance the manager shouted, Unmask. Instantly the hall was filled with confusion as friends recognized each other. But the little ballet dancer waited until the laughter and noise had subsided and all eyes were focused on Roger and her. Then slowly raising her tiny hand to her head she gave the mask a quick jerk and off it came, bringing her mass of golden curls with it. The crowd was speechless with amazement, but most of all Roger Channing, who stared dumfounded, not at the face of his demure little dancer, but at the grinning countenance of Percival Dewitt Chester, the sissy and his enemy. Then the crowd burst into peals of laughter at Roger Channing, the sheik of Ferndale High. Three cheers for Percival Dewitt Chester. Three cheers for the clever little ballet dancer! everyone shouted, as Roger Channing wilted in disgrace. Percival Dewitt Chester had had his revenge. -ARLEEN lVllLLSAP. c-A CDeck of Cards ln a small room, the air ladened with tobacco smoke held close to the floor by the low ceiling, two men were seated at a card table amid the others in the room. The place was illuminated by a dim electric light which shone bravely through the smoke to show up the rubbish on the unswept floor. The furniture had all seen service and had been used much. The two men formed a striking, but not unusual contrast. One of them was considerably older than his friend and carried the signs of hardship and experience in the lines on his face. His clothing was neat but not particularly attractive. His companion, however, was different. His clothes adhered to the latest fashion. He was a young man, on his first fling of city life and thought himself enjoying it until his money gave out. He still had enough for a meal and at this table he hoped to increase that meal to two meals and maybe more. His com- panion, however, had at first demurred and then flatly refused to play for money. Oh, come on, be a sport, pleaded the young man, take a chance, l am. No, replied the older man. l played for money the last time many years ago Since then I have seen many men lose fortunes and make them with the cards, but l have worked for my money. I'll play for the fun of the game but not for money. Besides, you could not afford it. I've got enough to take chances with, protested the young man, not wishing to seem broke, you seem afraid. My boy, said the older man, quietly, do you see these cards? Each one of thesefcan tell you a story. Each one has a history. Men have been killed and men have been saved by them. They have made fortunes for some and lost fortunes for others. Let them tell you their story. Listen well and think hard. I am the ace of spades. lVly history is cloudy. lVlany times l have slipped unseen from the sleeve of a card shark to snatch the last dollar from some unfortunate man. I am the deuce of hearts. lVly two red hearts sent a man into exile for eleven years for a supposed crime. For eleven years these two prints in his brain kept him away and when at last he learned of his innocence it was too late. The better part of his life was gone, and he died a pauper. Oh, listen to me. lVly story is also one of despair and tragedy. Two men loved the same girl. Rather than come to blows, they decided that a black card would