Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

 - Class of 1916

Page 7 of 48

 

Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA) online yearbook collection, 1916 Edition, Page 7 of 48
Page 7 of 48



Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA) online yearbook collection, 1916 Edition, Page 6
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Page 7 text:

THE TARGET 5 when I stopped on the road to rest a few moments, I was caught and brought here before all you people, " said the Prince, out of breath. He pardoned Father Pepio, on con- dition that he would be more careful in the future. The Priest lived to an old age, but he never again told the village folk of his deeds of valor. LEILA SHIELDS. THE GARDEN As I first opened the massive iron gate, I stepped back in surprise, for I had not expected the garden of this deserted house to be so wonderful. The tall, stately hollyhocks reached almost up to the front windows of the old-fashioned house. A large elm tree shaded the left side and on the right was a patch of green lawn sprinkled with daisies. A fountain, which I could see had not been used for years, stood in the center of this patch. As I walked around to the back of the house I saw there were wonder- ful beds of old-fashioned flowers — peonies, foxgloves and syringa. The roses were in bloom, too, yellow, red, white and pink ones. Climbing over the back porch was a Cecil Bruner and the well was covered with dusty ivy. A small summer house almost covered with morning glories invited me. As I stood in the garden alone, I thought of the city and the build- ings so near. I walked slowly to the front again and passed through the gate. A FLOCK OF ANGELS. After a short period of West Point life, George Grayson found it no bed of roses. He was precisely the type of plebe that the yearlings took most delight in tormenting and he got more than his full share. Before his first guard duty he was carefully crossquestioned by " Pete " Bennett, the ringleader of his tor- mentors, as to just what he would do were every conceivable emergency to arise on his post. When he arrived at his place, how- ever, all was quiet, and, he reflected, " At last I ' m rid of those pests for a little while at least. That Pete is officer of the guard to-night, though, and I suppose he ' ll be able to find something to do to me. " Several times during the evening he thought he heard peculiar noises in the great elm tree at one end of his beat, but decided it to be only the summer breeze. Promptly as the clock struck eight, fearful noises, moans and se pulchral groans issued from the tree-top, mak- ing his hair stand on end. Wh-wh-oo-oo g-g-oes there? " he chattered, his knees trembling and his face ashen. Clear and sweet came the answer, " A flock of angels descending on your post. " At that two ruffians rushed out from behind a hedge, took his gun away and left him stretched flat upon the ground. Crash! Smash! Thump! came the sound of a heavy falling body. With a final crash " Pete " appeared out of the elm and gave poor Grayson five demerits for " not saluting an officer when he appears on your post. " MARJORIE LEVIN. KATHARINE WILDER.

Page 6 text:

4 THE TARGET The Legend of the Prince and the Priest Father Pepio ' s name suited him very well, as he was as round as a butterball, for the good people of the city kept him very well fed. Indeed, I don ' t think he had had more than a dozen meals in his own home, all of his life. When Father Pepio was well out of sight one of the boldest men of the village, to whose house the Priest used to go more than to any other place, described the Priest as being " most the fattest man he ever saw, with cheeks that anyone would mis- taken for big red juicy apples. " But there was one thing that the Priest lacked, and that was hair. Anyone could easily count the few little bris- tles that stood up on his head. Father Pepio had often said he was never afraid of anything or anybody, and not many days ago he had been telling the village folk of all of his brave deeds, so when the village heard that near the city lived a man who was so fierce that " he ate people alive, " they all turned to Father Pepio for help. How the few poor little bristles on Father Pepio ' s head stood on end when he was told what was expected of him! But he could not have the villagers think him a coward. So on the day appointed the Priest started out with a sack over his shoul- der. All the village folk laughed heartily when they saw him on his old mule. But this did not disturb the Priest in the least; he was think- ing that if he caught this terrible mon- ster, he would be treated with more respect, and get better meals than ever before. So off he rode. Father Pepio had forgotten to ask the villagers to describe the wild man, so when he came to where he was told this fierce person lived, he got off his mule and began to creep about, trying to find him. From the distance the Priest heard the galloping of hoofs, and nearer and nearer it came, until Father Pepio could see quite plainly a beautifully dressed man on as gorgeously arrayed a horse. " This, " thought he, " must be the wild man; no roy al personage would come through the wild country of Spain unguarded. " Father Pepio thought, " Maybe he has stolen this beautiful horse and these clothes from some very rich knight, and he is on his way to Gra- nada. He will then pretend he is some lost prince, and before the peo- ple will know what to do he will have begun his deadly mission. " Nearer and nearer the steed came, until poor scared Father Pepio jumped behind a big clump of bushes and hid. The horse stopped and, to the dis- may of ' he Priest, this monster alighted. Then the strange man walked right over to where Father Pepio was hid- ing. Father Pepio, gaining some con- trol, reached for his bag, and just as the Prince (for he was really a lost prince), drew near, Father Pepio threw the sack over his head, tied it very firmly around the Prince ' s legs and arms, and started for Granada. Much to the dismay of the people was it when the sack was opened, to find a Prince! The Prince told his story, how he had strayed from his guards. " And



Page 8 text:

6 THE TARGET The Though it has been over twelve years since " The Target " made its first appearance in print it seems but 3 r esterday that a joyous, strong, intel- ligent body of twenty-seven boys and sixteen girls, whom I was privileged for three years to call mine, con- ceived the idea of its publication. Whatever success it achieved at that time was due to the loyal, enthusias- tic service of every member of the " June Class of 1904, " who never tired in their efforts to make " The Target " worth} ' of McKinley School. Had the venture failed, we shoulG have felt the effort worth while, for arget we grew in the doing, better than we knew. That " The Target " has lived on through so many years as the of- ficial organ of McKinley is very grat- ifying; that it has attained such a high standard among school produc- tions is evidence that the same fine spirit of endeavor that characterized the class that launched it still per- vades the school life of your school. That " The Target ' has become an im- portant factor in the school and com- munity is very pleasing to those who have loved it longest and best. ELIZABETH MILLER.

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