Garfield Junior High School - Gleaner Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

 - Class of 1927

Page 21 of 52

 

Garfield Junior High School - Gleaner Yearbook (Berkeley, CA) online yearbook collection, 1927 Edition, Page 21 of 52
Page 21 of 52



Garfield Junior High School - Gleaner Yearbook (Berkeley, CA) online yearbook collection, 1927 Edition, Page 20
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Garfield Junior High School - Gleaner Yearbook (Berkeley, CA) online yearbook collection, 1927 Edition, Page 22
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Page 21 text:

ing, the ladder fell, pinning the gardener beneath it. The next morning the maid, taking in the milk, discovered Thomas, stiff and cold, but with a smile upon his lips which seemed to say: " I am happy; grieve not. " Gradually Florence was made to see the foolishness of her idea, and as she grew stronger was told of the death of Thomas. Now the little girl plays in the garden again, and as she comes to the place where Thomas worked, her eyes fill with tears, and she thinks of the humble old man, who loved her better than life itself. — Carolyn Cook, H9. WE ASK YOU! Is Frank ' s Arm-strong? Is David Ayer (Air) ? Is Marjorie a Baker? Is Dorothea a Beyer ( Buyer) ? Does Mina Beyer-self a book? Does Marjory ring the Camp-bell? Does Clyde drive a Chandler? Does Carolyn Cook? Does Elinor drive a Ford? Is Bernice French? Is Donald a Gay-lord? Does Genevieve dig Graves? Is Haven a Hall? Has Alice a Hall? Has Albert a Horn? Is Clayton Ivey? Is Virginia a Knight? Is Ruth Larkin ' ? Is Eric Lindberg? Is Adele a Lyon? Is Marian a Miller? Is Juanita a Miser? Is Velma Noble? Where does Gray Park ' er? Does Walter Read? Has Orville a Rugg? Is Thelma a Rose? Does Jean Shear ' er? Elijah weighs a Single-ton! Is Pay son a Stone? Does Henry Turn ' er? Has Dorothy a White-head? Is Robert the Wind? Is Thelma Wiser? Is Douglas Wiser? Does Lawrence draw up Wills? Is Reginald Wood? Is George Young? Is Howard Young? LUCKY LINDY L stands for Lucky that goes with his name; I stands for Idol to whom we give fame; N Never falter, D Do or die, Y for the Years that will swiftly go by. — Irving Rosedale, H7.

Page 20 text:

THE POWER OF LOVE Xinth Grade Prize Story ' ' Thomas! Thomas! " called an imperative voice, " where is Miss Florence? It is time for her music lesson. " ' " Sure. Marm. and I can ' t say. " " All right. Thomas, that do. ' " and the figure vanished into the house again. The old man heaved a patient sigh, and turned back to his work again. A little while after this conversation Thomas was again called from his labors by a sweet voice calling anxiously. " Thomas, has mother called me? " " Yes, little Missy, and sure ye better be fer hun -in ' . " At his words the little girl ran into the house and soon the nerve-racking sound of a child playing a piece of music which she had not practiced ven,- carefully reached the ears of old Thomas, the gardener. Florence Courtney was the only child of ]Mr. and Mrs. Edward Courtney. The Courtney mansion was famed all over for its beautiful garden. lagnificent trees shaded hidden nooks. Precious ferns and flowers grew there, and emerald lawns stretched from one end of the grounds to the other. " ' hen this sound was heard by Thomas, a loving smile crossed his face and he whispered to himself. " I Iy little missy is as sweet and happy as the day is long. WTiat would we do " " ithout her? " But alas! There came a day when the little one did not pay her daily visit to Thomas, when she lay in her small bed still and pale, while doctors and nurses hurried back and forth with grave faces. There came a night when all present knew that the illness had reached a crisis. Outside the door, waiting anxiously for news, stood Mr. Courtney and his wife, their faces pale and grief-stricken. As they waited the door was opened, and the doctor came out of the room. His face was alight T " ith gladness, for he was the carrier of good news that little Florence would recover. Great was the joy throughout the household, for the child, though only eight years of age, was a favorite with all. But they rejoiced too soon, for the small invalid rested on her couch day after day, pale and languid. The doctor ' s face became graver each day, and he said, " Can ' t something be done to rouse that child? " oMrs. Courtney shook her head with weary despair, for her patience was almost at an end. The next morning when she entered the sick room, she was greeted by this statement: " Mother, when that rose outside my window dies, I shall die too. " At first this seemed onh- a joke, but Florence, with a sick child ' s fancy, became almost obsessed with the idea, and she really came to believe that when the rose died, she would die also. After a few days the rose rilted. until finally Thomas, who had heard the stor} ' , conceived of the idea of each night plucking off the old rose and placing a new one in its place. One night a terrible storm arose, the wind blowing such a gale that it was almost impossible to rithstand it. Thomas, however, as ever - night before, climbed his ladder and replaced the rose. But tonight Thomas, in his haste to be through with his labor of love, failed to place the ladder securely against the house. In descend-



Page 22 text:

SILKY Eighth Grade Prize Story ■ ' Where shall we go today? " I asked my brother John one Sunday iji the year two thousand one hundred and twenty-seven. ■ " Let ' s go to Mars. " John replied. The traffic is so bad after you pass the ]Moon that I don ' t like to go on Sunday. Besides, we ' ve gone there so often I ' m tired of it. " I argued. ■ ' That ' s all right, " John responded. " ■! know another way after you pass the Moon. Oh, yes. I found the best kind of a place to have a picnic on the east side. ' " " If we hurn,- you can have Silky ready, and I can have a breakfast put up before that pest of a Bobby finds out. " I said. " I ' ll leave a note so he won ' t worr " . " Bobby is my youngest brother. We call our Moon-Puller " Silky " because it is made mostly of blue silk. That is so light that the earth ' s pull of gra ity has no eft ' ect on it at all. The rest of Silky is made of a metal that is stronger than steel and as light as the rest of the Moon- Puller. I suppose you wonder what a Moon-Puller is. A !Moon-Puller is a machine that looks like a large capsule with a gondola htmg beneath it. In back of the gondola is a powerful motor that can reach a speed of about sixty miles a minute or three thousand six hundred miles an hour. Both the gondola and motor are made of that metal I have already mentioned. We call this metal " steelimun. " Finally I had the breakfast put up and John had Silky ready. Xow for the take-off ' l ' Mien the ] Ioon shines on a ZVIoon-Puller it starts to rise toward it because the Moon has a power to draw a ]Moon-Puller to itself. •■- re you ready. Bee? " John asked. " Yes. you can let the water out of it now. " I replied. At the bottom of the gondola there is a water tank. When there is water in the tank. Silky won ' t rise. She is kept in a shed with a roof that will open up in the middle, like a drawbridge, and a large receptacle built in the bottom of the shed to hold the water when you let it out of Silky. When we had reached the road, we started our motor and set out on the new route. After we had been traveling for about an hour. I asked John whether we ought to be near the IMoon or not. He said that we ought to be. but. upon looking out. we saw the Moon farther away than ever and Saturn so close that we would have to land there. " We had some difhculty in avoiding the ring around Saturn when we landed and more when we took oft " again. As it was rather late, we started for home. To get back to our o n planet, we had to nil our water tank. Filling the water tank is the hardest pan of running a Moon-Puller, because you have to swoop through a cloud after you have opened the front end of the tank. The condenser in the tank condenses the cloud to make water. Usually it is necessar} " to swoop through a second cloud to get enough water to pull you to the earth. ' hen we had nearly reached the earth, we saw that we were over the Atlantic Ocean. This meant that we had to drop some of our water so that we could stay at least live miles above the ocean. Then we started our motor and headed for home. We thought it to be about seven o ' clock, so we ate our breakfast when we arrived, and began a new day. — Betsy Doaxe, L8.

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