Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

 - Class of 1918

Page 16 of 48

 

Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA) online yearbook collection, 1918 Edition, Page 16 of 48
Page 16 of 48



Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA) online yearbook collection, 1918 Edition, Page 15
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Page 16 text:

14 THE TARGET who were to leave on the following day. As Jack, the leader was his own property, he asked permission of the officer in command to take his pet along. This was granted. After weeks of training Pat ' s com- pany was order to take its position beside the veterans of France. Bark- ing joyfully at his master ' s heels came Jack, the mascot of the com- pany. Within a few months every man was eager to take Jack over the top with him, because he was a great help to his trooper friend. With his keen scent he was far more successful in routing a con- cealed Hun than the soldiers them- selves. Once, when Pat was trying to re- turn to his company from which he had been separated, he was stop- ped by two Germans. He called to Jack who was close by to get one, while he made a lunge at the other. Pat easily killed his man, but poor Jack, flying at the throat of the other, was pierced by the cold steel of the Prussian ' s trench knife. Pat ' s Irish blood boiled at the sight of his plucky little pet, and with one powerful blow with the butt of his pistol he killed the Hun. Pat car- ried his dead little pal back to camp where he was buried with all the honors of a soldier killed in action. NORTH YOUNKINS. THE SONG OF THE POTATOES Plant us, Grow us, Sow us, Please ! We are good to eat! And we ' re really truly good As a substitute for wheat! CLARA HOFF. THE SEA. The sea, the sea, the wild, wild sea, Thou art free, thou art ever free! So far beneath that cold, dark sky, Against steep cliffs, thy waves dash high. Down underneath those dark green waves, Down underneath those rocky caves Stretch far and wide, thy endless wastes, Where seaweeds grow, all interlaced. The sea, the sea, the wild, wild sea, Thou art free, thou art ever free! ROBERTA HAYNES. AN ORIENTAL SURPRISE. The air was hot and heavy, a dark cloud was settling around Kioto, and the lights of the uchi through the fog gleamed like fire-flies. The heat drove me into the street and I called for a ricksha, thinking to cool myself with a short ride. " Where to? " inquired my coolie. " Anywhere! Anywhere! from this terrible heat! " I answered impatient- ly. And so he set out at a quick pace, and soon we were plunged into darkness. I began to be alarmed for I had not been in Kioto long, and was not acquainted with its many winding streets. Within a few moments, however, I saw the lights of Hongawnji Temple ahead and felt relieved, as I knew he would stop there to rest in the gardens. But no, he did not stop, and again we were in darkness. Being now thoroughly frightened I call for him to stop. But to my utter dismay he merely quickened his pace. Now all was silent except the patter, patter of his soft kutsu.

Page 15 text:

THE TARGET You Never Can Tell 13 " The way some of these fellows pull down fat Y. M. C. A. jobs, and leave the fighting to us, gets on my nerves, " complained Jimmy Bur- nett, a young, inexperienced aviator who had just finished his training course. " For instance that fellow Craig down at the hut. Why isn ' t he fighting, I ' d like to know, he ' s a husky looking young fellow. " The next day Burnett made his first battle flight. He managed to keep his place in the patrol till they met some thick clouds, when he became hopelessly lost. While he was flying aimlessly, trying to get his bearings, he heard the popping of a gun behind him, and felt a stinging pain in his shoulder. It was a Ger- man plane which had slipped up behind him. He turned his ma- chine, darted toward his opponent, and was able to chase him away, because, although he did not re- alize it, he was in French territory, and the Boche wasn ' t taking too many chances. Then his shoulder began to hurt him terribly, and it was all he could do to make a landing before falling into un- consciousness. When he opened his eyes he saw that he was in a hospital, and that Craig, the " Y " man, was at his bed- side. " What happened? " he asked weak- ly. " Well, " replied Craig, " you landed right by a road that was being shelled, a pretty hot place. I had happened to see you fall, so I got an ambulance driver to take me up as close as he could get. Then I crawled over to you, started your machine, and flew back in it. You see I ' d had a little experience as an aviator in the Royal Flying Corps, but I got shot up, and now I have only one good lung, so they won ' t let me fight. " Say, you aren ' t the same Craig as the British " ace " who brought down four Germans in his last fight, and then was invalided home. " " Yeh, I guess I ' m the fellow you mean. Well, I ' ll have to be running along, but I ' ll be around again to- morrow, " and he went out, followed by the awe-stricken gaze of a young, now very humble, flyer. CURTIS WRIGHT. PALS. Pat O ' Brien was mushing his way to Dawson as fast as his team of seven dogs could travel. Pat was the trailer for the Northwest Mount- ed Police, and was on one of his greatest cases. He had heard from the miner with whom he had spent the night that the United States had declared war on Germany. At Dis- covery Pup of Hunker Creek he saw a notice asking all Americans to en- list. Pat was a loyal American, al- though he was not a native-born citizen. When he reached headquarters he was undecided whether to resign from the police and enlist with the Americans at Forty-mile or to joins the Canucks. It was not left for Pat to decide that question for him- self. As a member of the North- west Mounted Police he was under miltary rule, and was subject to or- ders to report for duty anywhere his government might assign him. Consequently he received immediate notice to go to France with the men



Page 17 text:

THE TARGET 15 Horrible tales of kidnapping and murders came rushing into my brain at once. My wild imagination had me stolen, executed, and devoured in the short space of a moment. What should I do? It was im- possible to jump out as we were traveling too fast for that. I dared not call for help as my coolie might have choked me, and anyway, who could have heard me? I could only be as calm as possible and take things as they came. In the morn- ing the news of my murder would be spread, my friends would weep and bemoarn my fate, my funeral — " Hotel, Missy. " " Why, " I exclaimed increduously, " the hotel! I ' m at my own door! " FRANCES B. SEYMOUR. Let the flowers give their place That Capt. Spud may have more space. SPRING. Before us stretched the beautiful plains. The sun had just risen in the distance from behind the moun- tains above; there was nothing but the blue sky with spotless white clouds floating in the south. On earth, the fresh little blades, of green grass were seen coming up. As one looked, one beheld all the colors that Nature had given to flowers. The birds were singing their beauti- ful songs. The ground squirrels ran from hole to hole and talked to their neighbors. The little cotton- tails who hopped about to get their breakfast would turn to listen, and look as if in fear. Everything seem- ed happy and beautiful, because it was Spring. ELIZABETH SAFFORD. THE SPY. Jack Jones was intending to go out to the aeroplane factory in a few moments and was fixing up a light lunch to take alone with him. He soon finished, and seizing his hat and coat was off on the run. When Jack got almost to the factory, he was halted by a guard whom Jack knew very well, and was soon ushered into the foreman ' s office. Jack asked for a job but the fore- man said, " I am very sorry, Jack, but at present I haven ' t a single thing you could do. Every- shop is crowded. I will let you know when I find a good job for you. Would you like to see a trial flight? There is one of the best aviators going up soon. " " Thank you, " said Jack. As he got there one of the work- men was working and Jack saw that he had filed the supporting wires almost through. " Stop that, " said Jack jumping at the man. The man drew 7 a pistol and shot at Jack. The guard was attracted by the shot and soon cap- tured the workman. The latter was taken to court and it was found that he was a German spy. He was sentenced to serve fifty years in prison. Jack was given a reward for sav- ing the life of the aviator who would have fallen to his death if Jack had not discovered the spy. HUGH FALCONER. Potatoes we ' ll eat To save the wheat. If you love the U. S. A. Buy War Savings Stamps today. Save lead, save tin, Save the wheat that ' s in the bin.

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