Vernon County censor. [volume] (Viroqua, Wis.) 1865-1955, 1919-11-26
END Of A PERFECT DAY. DAY
REFLECTIONS OF VIROQUA IN
OLD PACIFIC OCEAN
Viroqua Boy Writes Pathetically and
Beautifully of the Old Scenes and
the Things and Persons


(The Censor is pleased to give to its readers
letter that lends charm, grace and thought
1t is the production of former Viroqua
boy who now lives in the wonderful Golden
Gate state. The editor and the public finds
delight in perusal of these writings-)
By ELMER E. DUNLAP. Los Angeles.
This is Tuesday afternoon and it
is nearing the end of a perfect Cali
fornia day. The slowly descending
sun is going to meet the dusk of even
ing, and, shining through the haze of
eight thousand miles of ocean, soon
we will see changing, darkening col
ors-a western sunset. And with all
this peace and quiet, am in a sub
! junctive mood-subjoined or reminded
of the old friends and scenes in Viro-
qua of other days. In the minds eye
see the old Censor office, over Mich
OILS store, and passing in mystic sue
cession are "Uucle Henry" Casson,
Billy Purdy, Jake Tenney, Frank Nor
ley, Harry Casson, Frank Decker, Tim
Winters and myself, the printers de-
vii, just "Pete" Dunlap.
Quickly the scene changes and |
see the old stone school house, and
marching on parade are the old-time
school teachers, with Mrs. o. B. Wy
man leading the van. Then follow in
memory Edith Rusk, Laura Gordon,
Julia Coe, Ella Tollefson, William
Haughton, Hartwell Allen, NJ. L. Holt,
J. B. Trowbridge, C. j. Smith and l.
C. Adams, but the one who has left
the most lasting impression is Mrs.
Wyman. She taught respect, she
taught discipline with friendship, she
taught kindness; IS pupils we were
cher boys" and now, after all these.
years, cher boys" cannot forget.
For Wisconsin, the state Of my
birth, have r.any pleasant memories,
but the state of my adoption holds me.
California is now home, sweet home.
And the spot where contentment
dwells is Catalina, an island surround
ed by the waters of a Southern Sea,
where we spend July and August of
each year.
Far out in the peaceful Pacific lies the ideal
place of my dreams,
Where the heart beats full of enjoyment, and
troubles all vanish, il seems.
In the village of Avalon, Catalina,
all is restful and peaceful; there the
mountains and sea meet; there the eli
mate is perfect; there the golden,
orange and purple sunstes are beau
tiful and correctly cannot be pictured
on canvas. And during those two
months this year my typewriter was
with me, that | might be the better
enabled to paint with words the beau
ties of wild nature, the glory of morn
ing and the tenderness of twilight.
We bathed in old ocean, went fishing
and again viewed the submarine gar
dens through the clear blue waters
and the glass bottom boats and watch
ed the goings and comings of aquatic
life, saw shell-encrusted rocks, wav-
ing fields, luxuriant foliage, as on
land. Each evening we listened to
music at the Greek Theatre, which
theatre is carved from the side of a
mountain, with the acoustic proper
| ties as wonderful as they are at the
Mormon Temple in Salt Lake City.
| And then, to the melody of the night
singing hooking bird and under the
soothing influence of the surf, we
slept in a tent cottage in a fragrant
eucalyptus grove. And, what was the
greatest enjoyment to me, nearly ev-
cry day | went up in the mountains,
where all is quiet, save the songs of
birds, and up there alone, communing
with my own thoughts, and with the
| Pacific far below me, / would stretch
up my arms and for the moment
could feel and say, "The world is
mine"
Today | have been out riding along
"El Canine Real" (the Kings High
way,) which was established and
maintained by ancient padres $50 years
ago, and which connected the old Cal
ifornia Missions, twenty-one in all,
each standing one days journey apart,
the one from the other, between San
Diego. Harbor of the Sun, and Som
oma, in the valley of the Seven Moons
| Indian !orel the scene of the found
ing of the last mission in 1928. When
now you ride along Gel Gamma Real"
where trod in ancient days Father
Junipero Sierra. Don Casper de Por-
tola, Juan de ANA and all the sturdy
pioneers who blazed the trails of Cali
fornia in the days of the historic
past, you go out among the purple
hills, through the acacia-spangleG val
| legs and along the shores of the Sun
set Sea in the glory and beauty of old
California and the Missions. The ORR
ginal Spanish name given to LosAn-
geles, Puebla de la Reina de los An
geles," meaning "the village of the
Queen of the Angles" indicates its
fascination to the pious early settlers.
Today we passed San Gabriel, where
is given "The Mission Play, which
| Is 10 0aIIIOFI1ldlS WHdI ne I dSSlOH
Play" of Europe is to the peasants of
| Oberammergau. The story of THE
Mission Play" is the converting of the
Indians to Christianity and the heroic
self-sacrifice and martyrdom of Cali
| fornia's great pioneers. The CLAM
our and romance of old Spain, the
| mother of California, is portrayed in
this play by Franciscan monks, Span
ish soldiers and sailors and Indians,
natives of this soil, but with the blood
of CASTLE in their veins, trained as
actors. The story tells of the strug-
giles, hardships and heroism of the
| Spanish fathers in the establishing
of these old Missions; of the peace,
plenty and happiness that reigned in
CALIFORNIA; golden age, and of the
ruins.
And as we drove back over the
smooth surface of FL Canine Real,
entering the city, we witnessed the
welcoming home of the last quota of
the Golden State boys from the battle
fields of France, and then | thought
of the JOY they must have felt. And
l contemplated: Those grand young
men are coming home now-the home
fires have been kept burning-and
they are longing to greet their wait
ing mothers, who love, who give, who
hope: their patient wives, who sacTi-
fee, who pray; their glad children,
Who adore ar tho Girls they love