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 ,DEPAK ; M£NT OF THE INTERIOR 
 : Jan 5 1905 
 
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)• IBKARYof OONGRtSS 
 fwo Oopies Hcceived 
 
 FEB 6 1905 
 
 1= OLHSS O^ XXc. iMoi 
 t COPY B. 
 
 
Lovingly Dedicated 
 
 To 
 
 My Mother 
 
Spring 
 
 Through the meadows, o'er the hills, 
 By the sparkling streams. 
 
 Peep the dainty buttercups 
 From their beds of green. 
 
 All the bright S])ring sunshine 
 
 In their cups they hold, 
 Thus appear these little flowers 
 
 Like chalices of gold. 
 
 Where the birds are singing, 
 Where the brooklets gleam, 
 
 Wake the ' ' baby blue eyes ' ' 
 From their winter's dream. 
 
 And as up to Heaven 
 
 They look through morning's dew 
 Each petal catches something 
 
 Of the sky's clear azure blue. 
 
 Thus is Nature smiling 
 
 Amidst the merry din 
 Of birds that chant sweet praises 
 
 Of her draperies for Spring. 
 
 1901. 
 
Pictures in tl)c Embers 
 
 J5>.^j^^ 5r^€€ 
 
 An old man sat in his easy chair 
 By the side of a blazing grate, 
 
 'Twas cold, for the night was stormy, 
 Bnt the hour was far from late. 
 
 He leaned his head on the head-rest soft 
 
 And gazed at the embers red. 
 Feelings of sadness and joy coming o'er him 
 
 As he thought of the years^ that had fled. 
 
 Silently watching the bright coals glow 
 He seemed to see once more, 
 
 AVith almost life-like vividness, 
 The scenes and friends of yore. 
 
 Grand were the pictures those embers made. 
 Incased in their frames of sorrow and pleasure, 
 
 Now growing clear, now fading away 
 Like music of soft and sweet measure. 
 
 Once again the flowers bloomed and blossomed, 
 Once again he was care free and young. 
 
 Once again he listened with boyish delight 
 To the songs the dear home folks sung. 
 
At the door of a cottage thatched and old 
 Stood his mother with mournful eyes, 
 
 As she gave him advice for his coming years, 
 And hade him that last good-bye. 
 
 In a room that is dim in the twilight 
 He sees with her sweet, happy smile, 
 
 His sister, so fragile yet loving, 
 
 Who had brightened their home but a while. 
 
 Back came the merry old school days. 
 Those days always most free from care. 
 
 How many kind faces smiled at him, 
 How many old joys lingered there. 
 
 Then in the calm pride of manhood 
 
 He, through the shady lane. 
 Walked with fair Ellen, his sweetheart, 
 
 And tells her Love's story again. 
 
 He sees at his knee a cherub, 
 A petite, winsome baby aged four. 
 
 How tenderly sweet is her chatter, 
 Heard, alas, in the household no more. 
 
 The old man moved in his easy chair 
 
 By the side of a flameless grate. 
 And sighed, for the night was stormy. 
 
 And the hour was very late. 
 
 1899. 
 
n Buncb of Uioim 
 
 Dear little purple blossoms, 
 
 Filling with fragrance the room, 
 
 Emblems of love and of beauty, 
 Dispelling the evening gloom. 
 
 As you lie on my study table 
 
 You call to my mind pleasant scenes 
 
 Of days now long gone that were merry 
 That will ever in memory gleam. 
 
 Your presence recalls an Easter, 
 
 Bright with dazzling sunshine and shade, 
 A day that was very joyous. 
 
 And the friends who its happiness made. 
 
 Oh, fair, fading blossoms of Springtime, 
 Sweet reminders of days that are past. 
 
 You prove to me ever so clearly 
 That nothing we value can last. 
 
 All, all must thus pass from vision, 
 God's flowers and His children, too; 
 
 Oh, teach me, dear blossoms, so lovely, 
 To be sweet, unassuming, like you. 
 
 1900. 
 
meditation 
 
 'Tis afternoon of June, the eighteenth day; 
 I sit mthin the study hall alone 
 And think as I have not for many years. 
 The window at my side is open wide ; 
 Without I see the Summer clouds at play. 
 The trees are tossing in the gentle breeze, 
 The birds are singing in wild ecstacy. 
 
 Why sit I thus and think so pensively? 
 Ah ! you do not know the thoughts that throng 
 Within my busy brain as Time wears on 
 And leaves a memory like an old, sweet song. 
 List, and I '11 whisper in your ear a word, 
 Or can it be, the reason you have heard? 
 
 Only four days and eves must pass away 
 Ere from this school I go with thoughts of |)ain ; 
 For though 'tis joy to know from work I'm free, 
 Perhaps we all may never meet again— 
 For Life's uncertain, and its billowy sea 
 May drift us to some unknown distant lea. 
 
 These present friends whose smiles have cheered 
 
 me on 
 As patiently I trod my way along 
 I'll not forget till Life's last hymn is sung; 
 
And though my future path a desert be, 
 
 The memory of their glad and friendly ways 
 
 Shall be indeed an oasis to me, 
 
 Where T may rest to dream of past bright days. 
 
 All through my Course each day a milestone seemed, 
 Engraved with pleasant thought of joys now o'er; 
 Yet, brighter than all these shall ever gleam 
 The last few days I've spent within these walls, 
 Where merriment and goodwill forward came. 
 Where each hour as it passed some trinket held. 
 And each glance a more tender one became. 
 
 1900. 
 
Co my friend 
 
 Thy birthday came on Tuesday last, 
 
 A stranger in a new, fair land. 
 Without the friends you knew of yore 
 
 To wish thee well or clasp thy hand. 
 
 Yet there is one who but of late 
 
 Has joined a link in your friendship chain, 
 Who wishes thee all that life can give, 
 
 And birthdays o'er and o'er again. 
 
 Thy life, the future, I can't tell; 
 
 May it in coming years 
 Be filled with Life's glad sunshine 
 
 And know naught of sighs or tears. 
 
 Ma}^ each year as it comes and goes 
 Bring wisdom and contentment, too; 
 
 May friends be ever near to aid. 
 
 Who'll ever prove kind, staunch and true, 
 
 May Joy her pinions ever wave 
 
 In triumph o'er thy home, thy land; 
 
 May all the blessings Angels know 
 Make thee in fine— A Noble Man. 
 
 1899. 
 
Tn metnoridm 
 
 At night when the sky is bespangled, 
 
 I have noticed a new splendor there; 
 At evening, when home from my labor, 
 
 I noticed a lone, vacant chair. 
 Once more has God in His wisdom 
 
 Unfastened the family chain, 
 And a link to His bright home has taken, 
 
 Where enter no trouble or pain. 
 
 Grandma sleeps, all her life work completed ; 
 
 Her pleasures and tasks are all o 'er, 
 With her loved and her lost ones she's dwelling 
 
 On a far away distant shore. 
 Her journey through life was quite varied. 
 
 She sailed seas of joy and of pain; 
 But her barque now is anchored at Heaven, 
 
 Where she rests ne'er to journey again. 
 
 We miss her at morn and at evening. 
 
 Her place can by no one be filled; 
 We long for her and her kindness. 
 
 But the heart that once loved us is still. 
 She sleeps, and the birds from the thicket, 
 
 And the murmuring, gentle breeze. 
 Sing soft, soothing hymns of requiem 
 
 O 'er her home 'neath the Autumn leaves. 
 In memory of Mrs. Catherine Totman. 
 
 1.901. 
 
Tn ealifornia 
 
 In the Spring, in California 
 
 'Tis a pleasure just to live; 
 Everything with life is stirring, 
 
 And the flowers sweet perfume give. 
 Grasses make the hillsides verdant, 
 
 All the trees bright foliage wear— 
 How delightful, just to live here 
 
 In California, land so fair! 
 
 In our State when golden Summer 
 
 Comes with luscious fruit in store. 
 It is then the birds sing loudest 
 
 As from nest to nest they soar. 
 Leafy trees make lanes inviting, 
 
 Nature's grandeur blinds all care— 
 Oh, how glad we are to live here 
 
 In California, land so fair! 
 
 In our glorious "Indian Summer," 
 
 During our rich '^Harvest Home," 
 Nature casts o'er all her mantle 
 
 Bright with russet, gold and brown 
 From the vineyards, purple clustered. 
 
 Come the grapes so fine and rare— 
 Yes, 'tis pleasure just to live 
 
 Here in California, land so fair! 
 
In the winter when the storm clouds 
 
 Float o'er land and sea, 
 Even then our Western Country 
 
 Quite enchanting seems to be; 
 Then it is the orange ripens, 
 
 And sweet violets scent the air— 
 Ah ! 'tis Eden just to live here 
 
 In California, land so fair ! 
 
 1901. 
 
Spring T$Bm 
 
 Spring is aproaching— how do I know? 
 The rippling brooklet told me so 
 As I paused to rest on its shady bank 
 And some of its sparkling nectar drank, 
 For I heard it say, very low, but clear : 
 ' ' Spring is coming, bright Spring is here. ' ' 
 
 Spring is approaching— how do T know? 
 The green meadow yonder told me so 
 As I loitered there when the sun had set 
 And the whistling quail had sought their nest ; 
 The tender blades of the green grass there 
 Said plainly: ''Kejoice, the Spring is here." 
 
 Spring is approaching— how do I know! 
 The evening zephyrs told me so. 
 As they cooled my brow and caressed my cheek. 
 They seemed in their gentle way to speak, 
 Wooingly, softly, afar, then near: 
 "Winter has vanished and Spring is here." 
 
 Spring is approaching— how do I know? 
 
 The fragrant wild flowers told me so 
 
 As they sought to reveal their colors rare, 
 
 Gorgeous enough for a queen to wear; 
 
 Lovely children of Nature dear. 
 
 They told me plainly that Spring was here. 
 
Spring is approaching— how do I know! 
 Linnet, bluebird and meadow lark told me so 
 As I listened one day to their wild, glad song 
 And wandered away from the busy throng; 
 I heard them say in a way sweetly clear : 
 ^'Oh, be hapi^y, for Spring is here.'' 
 
 1902. 
 
Co my THend milic 
 
 9999 ««^* 
 
 You have asked me to write you a poem— 
 
 Alas, for the favor you ask 
 Of a friend who is willing, ready. 
 
 To do for you any task. 
 
 Could I gain from the nmrmuring brooklet 
 
 The secrets it tries to tell. 
 Could I gain from the billowing ocean 
 
 Stories of nymphs that there dw^ell , 
 
 Could I learn from the snowwhite lily 
 That grows in lone mountain dells, 
 
 A lesson of purity, patience, 
 A story of morals I'd tell. 
 
 Could I gain from the fragrant flowers 
 
 That grow in the garden fair, 
 The tales that the sweet birds whisper 
 
 As they fly through the summer air, 
 
 Or fathom the mysteries olden 
 
 Of the budding and death of the leaves 
 
 That sway in dismay at the Winter's storm, 
 Or are soothed by the wooing breeze; 
 
 Could 1 know when the twilight gatliers. 
 
 If the stars are tokens of love. 
 Or etchings in night's blue curtain. 
 
 That the Angels may look from above; 
 
Had I but the mind of a Milton, 
 
 The brains of a Tennyson, 
 Or the pen of some fairy enchantress— 
 
 I'd write you a marvelous one. 
 
 Had you loaned me your eyes with their brightness, 
 Had you loaned me your heart with its love. 
 
 Had you loaned me jour hands with their friendship. 
 That I '11 value wherever I rove ; 
 
 Had you loaned me your voice with its sweetness. 
 Had you loaned me your face with its smile— 
 
 Ah, then I could write 3^ou a poem. 
 
 That by critics would stand a fair trial! 
 
 As it is, 1 cannot write a poem ; 
 
 Indeed, it is useless to try- 
 But I may in the distant future. 
 
 In the time that is called "Bye and Bye." 
 
 1899. 
 
Co ClK Blind 
 
 May He who knows tlie sparrows fall 
 And all the inmost thoughts of man, 
 Look down with pity and with love 
 On him, who knows not Nature grand. 
 
 God help the blind and ^\\f their minds 
 With scenes and dreams as fair as May, 
 For 'tis a cross most hard to bear 
 To be a child of night, not day. . 
 
 To sit through all the summer hours 
 And hear the birds sweet trills of cheer. 
 To smell the flowers and feel the breeze 
 With soft caresses murmur near. 
 
 To sit besides the bright home fire 
 And hear the voices, dear and low, 
 And know not size or form or face 
 Nor visions in the fire that glow. 
 
 Yes, surely as the patient blind 
 Live on in their dim sightless world, 
 God gives them more than he who sees 
 And has vast fields of light and gold. 
 
 To them perchance the warbling birds 
 Tell of far lands in glorious note. 
 Grander to him who cannot see 
 That words some famous poet wrote. 
 
Yes, may the Father of us all 
 Be kind and patient to the blind, 
 For they perhaps in His own land 
 Will see, and know and understand. 
 
 1899. 
 
IDy Day Cime Drcatn 
 
 How strange it seemed and yet liow sweet 
 
 That day time dream I had 
 
 When the flowers bloomed and the sun shone bright 
 
 And even the birds were glad. 
 
 I dreamed I was old and my hair as white 
 
 As the snow of a winter's day 
 
 But my memory was strong and my pulses throbbed 
 
 As they did that evening in May. 
 
 I dreamed I was looking o'er souvenirs 
 And keepsakes of days gone by 
 And as I glanced on each token fair 
 I could not but heave a sigh, 
 Last but not least was a withered rose 
 Which though very faded and dead 
 Brought visions bright of a summer night 
 When it was pretty and red. 
 
 Of a laddie good and lassies two 
 
 Wlio seeking for knowledge had gone 
 
 To instructions given by the pastor reverend 
 
 On the good the church had done 
 
 Of the pleasant stroll after Vesper hours 
 
 For the night was too tempting for home 
 
 Of the "bouquets" received and the ''bouquets" 
 
 given 
 As contentedly we roamed. 
 
Of the locust tall tliat lent its leaves 
 
 To shade a small rose tree 
 
 Of a party of three and one of which 
 
 Kindly plucked the rose for me, 
 
 Ah, rosebud red may their friendship be 
 
 Not like your leaves to wither ! 
 
 But rather like your perfume sweet 
 
 That I know will last forever. 
 
 Yes dainty, odorus, red rose 
 
 As a memoir hid away 
 
 Though only to some a trifling toy 
 
 Your fragrance will last always. 
 
 Anon to remind me of pleasures 
 
 That like you have faded and gone. 
 
 Of that summer day with its starlight eve 
 
 As I dav dream alone. 1899. 
 
yjimn message 
 
 The herald of Storms, bold Thunder, passed here 
 Today, with this message from Winter old, 
 "I am coming along at a rapid pace 
 With days that are dreary and cold. 
 
 Soon the birds will be gone to the sunny Southland 
 Yet a few shall remain, just for cheer, 
 And the flowers of summer fragrant and fair 
 Shall sleep through the time I am near. 
 
 The leaves, gold and russet, will fall to the ground 
 
 To keep dear old mother Earth warm. 
 
 And the hillsides and valleys will look bleak and 
 
 bare 
 When from all their beauty they're shorn. 
 
 The rain 'gainst the casement will spatter and 
 
 splash, 
 Tlie wind through the tree tops will sigh. 
 And the mountains I'll cover with beautiful snow 
 From their base to their peaks towering high. 
 
 I am cjuite rough and gruff as you already know 
 Yet not as unkind as I seem 
 For often I'll vanish the rainclouds so dull 
 And the sun in its glory shall gleam. 
 
Winter flowers shall peep from their beds in the sod 
 And their fragrance shall perfume the air, 
 The winter birds songs will be gladsome and clear 
 As their welcome notes sound far and near. 
 
 The earth in delight at the brightness around 
 Shall put on a robe richly green, 
 Bespangled and fair with Jack Frost's gifts so rare 
 That he's gathered from brooklet and stream. 
 
 But ever anon, there'll be wind, rain and storm 
 And the land will look gloomy awhile, 
 I promise retreat. Ere I go watch the East 
 And you'll see there, the Bainbow, my smile. 
 
June tide 
 
 The dew had wept tlie day's decline 
 The night had lit her countless lamps 
 When Tess, Irene and Will and I 
 Strolled out that Sunday eve so bright 
 
 Strolled where the moonbeams as they shone 
 Through the tall green walnut trees 
 Made a chequered path on which to walk 
 And enjoy the cool, evening breeze. 
 
 Out of that merry group of four 
 Two there were as the time flew by 
 Who didn't recite and who wouldn't sing 
 But they could if they'd only try. 
 
 For one little girl there was who sang 
 She with the tresses of brownish hue 
 And the crickets chirped by the dusty way 
 In dismay as she sang songs old and new. 
 
 Another there was with coal black hair 
 
 And eyes that coquettishly looked at the moon 
 
 She was asked to sing but politely refused 
 
 For "her sweet bells were out of tune." 
 
 Many days will have come and gone 
 
 Many eves with their star gemmed sky 
 
 Will fade fore'er from the sight of man 
 
 Ere we wander again as the swift hours fly 
 
 But as the time passes quietly on 
 
 Let these few verses recall to your mind 
 
 The pleasant hours of that Junetide sweeT 
 
 And the little orirl who wrote these lines. 1899. 
 
Co Baby €ugene 
 
 Sweet Eugene, with liair so curly 
 So soft, so silky and bright. 
 Sweet Eugene, with cheeks so dimpled 
 And blue eyes that sparkle with light. 
 
 Today, July ninth, is your birthday 
 Today you are two years old. 
 Two years of infinite pleasure 
 Has over your baby soul rolled. 
 
 Enjoy your baby pleasures 
 Dear little Gene while you may, 
 Boyhood and manhood are harder 
 Than these your babyhood days. 
 
 Play on baby Gene, with your playthings 
 Your dollies and books and ball 
 And may no gloom howe'er tiny 
 O'er your fair brow e'er fall. 
 
 Dear Gene, may your life be ever 
 Like the violets modest and sweet, 
 May your cheeks e'er be rosy and dimpled 
 Though fast away the years fleet. 
 
 May your life when you've grown to manhood 
 Be such as it is today. 
 Simple and pure and peaceful 
 Lighted by Love's holy ray. 
 
 1897. 
 
T Can Only Be a friend to Vou 
 
 At a homestead clustered o'er with sweetest roses 
 Lived a girl with dreamy eyes and golden hair, 
 The village belle she was with many suitors 
 For she was just as good as she was fair. 
 When evening breezes whistled round the cottage 
 And niglit birds warbled forth their simple lay 
 Oft some village lad would tell her that he loved her 
 But she would only softly gently say: 
 
 CHOEUS. 
 
 ''Friends through Life's journey we can only be 
 
 I know" you 'd ever prove true 
 
 Another claims my heart 'tis fates decree 
 
 I can only be a friend to you." 
 
 In a city far away bravely toiling day by day 
 Was the lad this maid had loved for many years 
 On one happy summer day in the merry month of 
 
 May 
 He came to wed the girl his heart held dear 
 Now when vesper bells are sounding o'er the 
 
 meadow 
 And round their home the twilight shadows fall 
 He loves her only more as she tells of days of yore 
 And how these words she said to suitors all 
 
 CHOEUS. 
 
 ''Friends through Life's journey we only can be 
 
 I know you'd ever prove true, 
 
 Another claims my heart 'tis fates decree 
 
 I can only be a friend to you." 
 
 1900. 
 
C. n. $. eia$$ Song 
 
 Composed for June Class of 1900 of the Chico 
 
 State Normal School. 
 
 Tune "On Venice Waters.^' 
 
 Nature lies sweetly dreaming 
 'Neatli a flood of golden light, 
 As we with hearts of gladness 
 While away the moments bright, 
 As we with hearts of gladness 
 So free from all care now, 
 Let our voices ring with a merry din 
 As the summer air bathes our brow. 
 
 Bright were the hours we spent here 
 Within these dear old walls 
 In Memory's picture gallery 
 These hours will be first of all 
 And though we go with pleasure 
 To teach and gently rule 
 Within our hearts we will treasure 
 A love for this Normal school. 
 
 Yes, though we go with gladness 
 
 W^e fain would say "Good Bye" 
 
 To all whose loving kindiiess 
 
 Has caused the time to |fly. 
 
 And as we go we leave here 
 
 This tree of peace, goodwill 
 
 That you may sometimes think of us 
 
 As we bound o'er Life's rocks and rills. 
 
CHOKUS. 
 
 Happy, lightliearted we 
 Launch into Life's deep sea 
 Over its unknown waters wide 
 Seeking for truth where e 'er it abides 
 Shunning all evil ways 
 Thus will we spend our days 
 Voyaging along, steadfast and strong 
 We will forever stay. 1900. 
 
Cwilisbt 
 
 Night has pinned back her curtain of azure 
 With the dainty twinkling stars, 
 And day with its heated radiance 
 Has faded in the West afar. 
 
 Sweet hours of quietude, of rest and peace 
 The time when lovers whisper soft and low, 
 How sadly sweet thou see 'st with moments fleet 
 To me, who loves, the dreamy twilight so ! 
 
 The toilsome labors of the day are done 
 The drowsy bee has long since gone to rest. 
 The pretty birds have sung their vesper hymns 
 And gone unto the trees that shelter best. 
 
 The flowers droop their dainty perfumed heads 
 And in a pensive attitude they lie 
 Until the Twilight deepens into Night 
 And Morning opens clear with golden dyes. 
 
 When all is quiet, calm and still 
 A deep, deep pleasure fills my very soul, 
 For could I pen the thoughts that fill my mind 
 A glorious, wond'rous story might be told. 
 
 1897. 
 
Sutttmer Girl 
 
 Now you are a happy Summer Girl 
 Care free and full of fun, 
 And royally must you rule dear 
 For your reign has just begun. 
 
 Lounging at will in the hammock soft 
 Reading some pleasant book, 
 Or hid away on the ocean shore 
 In some romantic nook. 
 
 Dipping your feet in the water cool 
 Laughing aloud in your glee. 
 Oh there 's nothing like being a summer girl 
 Happy light hearted and free. 
 
 Enjoy yourself while the summer sun 
 In its splendor shines on the sea, 
 And makes a mirror wherein can be seen 
 The sky as blue as can be. 
 
 For the winter clouds and winter storms 
 Alas ! too soon will they come, 
 And my Summer Girl will sigh "Adieu" 
 And return to ' ' Home Sweet Home. ' ' 
 
 1899. 
 
Remember me 
 
 Our sweet, youthful days are passing 
 Quickly and happily by, 
 Very soon dearest friend we'll be parting 
 And the thought of it, makes me sigh. 
 
 Soon our merry school days will be over 
 And the lessons of school life done, 
 But pray, let one thought round you hover 
 Eemember me and our fun. 
 
 Remember me, dear old schoolmat< 
 As you sail life's voyage through. 
 And though its at times dark and stormy 
 I'll be always a true friend to you. 
 
 Remember me when 'midst the happy 
 And when you light hearted and free. 
 Are surrounded by pleasures and loved ones 
 Spare just one, wee thought for me. 
 
 Our lives may glide on together 
 Like the pleasures of a dream, 
 God grant that it may be thus, dear, 
 For the voyage, will then shorter seem. 
 
 Perhaps one of us may wander 
 Far away across blue foreign seas 
 If this be our fate, dear schoolmate 
 

 liBiiiii) 
 
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