Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

 - Class of 1918

Page 9 of 48


Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA) online yearbook collection, 1918 Edition, Page 9 of 48
Page 9 of 48

Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA) online yearbook collection, 1918 Edition, Page 8
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Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA) online yearbook collection, 1918 Edition, Page 10
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Page 9 text:

THE TARGET 7 Farmer Higby and Liberty Bonds " No, " said Farmer Higby decided- ly, " I don ' t want to buy any Liberty Bonds. Good day, " and he pushed the agent out of the door and closed it. " Well, there ' s another one got- ten rid of, Ma, " he called to Mrs. Higby. " Well, come in and set down to supper, now, " she answered. " I guess we had beter eat now even if Tom ain ' t home yet. He ' ll probably come in after we ' ve finished and expect me to warm up supper for him. " When they had finished supper Mr. Higby sat and read the paper while Ma washed the dishes. At nine o ' clock Mr. Higby got up and announced his intention of going to bed. " Don ' t you go and set up for Tom now, Ma, " he ordered. " He can fix up something to eat for him- self. You better come to bed now, too. And don ' t go leaving the lamp lit cither. Coal oil costs money these days. " Ma sighed and obeyed him. When he had gone upstairs she sneaked into the pantry and cutting a large slice of pie she left it on the kitchen table for Tom. In tbe morning when Mrs. Higby went into the kitchen to light the fire she noticed that the pie was still there. " Hum, " she said to herself. " 1 never knew Tom to leave a piece of pie yet. Well, I might as well put it away because if I don ' t it won ' t last long. " Sh e went to call Tom, and receiving no answer, she opened the door. The room was empty and the bed was untouched. Evidently Tom had not come home that night at all. But when Pa went out to feed the chickens he found an envelope under the door addressed to " Mr. and Mrs. Higby. " Together they opened it and what was their sur- prise when they found that it con- tained a note and a check for fifty dollars! The note was scribbled in pencil and read, — " Dear Ma and Pa, " I have decided to enlist in the army, so good-by. Enclosed find fifty dollars with which to buy a Liberty Bond. This is the money I earned picking fruit this summer. When I get off for a few days I ' ll try to come and see you. Good-by, " TOM HIGBY. " There were tears in Pa ' s eyes as he finished reading the note. " Well, Ma, " he said, " I ' m going to hitch up Susy and we ' ll go down to the bank as quick as she can go. " In a few minutes he came in and found Ma already to start. They set off at a brisk pace for the bank. " How much money on my ac- count? " Mr. Higby inquired of the clerk. " Five hundred and forty-three dol- lars, sir, " he answered after consult- ing his books. " Put it all in Liberty Bonds, " commanded Pa, " and here are fifty dollars more to be put in my wife ' s name. " . MARJORIE LEW IN. Get behind our soldiers, Fight against the Huns, Save your dimes and nickels, Save your country ' s sons!

Page 8 text:

6 THE TARGET The next thing thrown on the screen was some war pictures. " What war? " inquired Patience who was greatly puzzled. " The great war in Europe, " ex- plained Anne, " Look at the tanks, Patience. " Patience didn ' t know what tanks were, but she saw some peculiar looking objects moving directly to- wards them. " Hurry! hurry, Anne, they ' ll crush us! " screamed Patience. " No, they ' re just in the picture, " said Anne beginning to feel morti- fied. Let ' s go, " she added. It was not quite dark. Anne ran home pulling the reluctant Patience after her. Everything was so strange to her, the little Salem Puri- tan girl. A large electric train came thundering along all illuminated. Patience thought certainly that was Satan. Everywhere automobiles sped along honking. This twentieth century life was so different from the quiet Puritan life of the seven- teenth century! When they reached Anne ' s home, Anne turned on the electric light. As the bright light filled the room, Patience smothered an exclamation of surprise, and stood still in amazement. All of a sudden Patience cried, " Oh, my mother is calling me. Dost thou hear her? I must go. " Anrte listened and it seemed as though she could hear a voice cry- ing, " Patience, thy supper is ready. Hurry, child. " Other sounds reached Anne ' s ear. She could hear the lowing of cattle and the tinkling of sweet-towned cowbells. The sounds grew louder and the voice, also. Anne jumped up, rubbing her eyes. " Why, where ' s Patience? " question- ed Anne of her mother who was standing near her. " There isn ' t any person named Patience here. You have been dreaming, " said Anne ' s mother. But it all seemed so real to Anne that she never could quite believe that it was a dream. EDITH LILIAN JONES. THE DUMDEREE. I ' m bound to the land of No-where- at-all There, wondrous things to see: In a golden coach with a snow- white steed; To see the Dumderee. Oh, the Dumderee is a wonderful bird, As wonderful as can be, With long red feathers in his tail; And bright green wings has he. And as he flies his bright green wings Flap far o ' er land and sea. His wings are fifty miles across. This wonderful Dumderee! And as he flies, he gaily sings; Sings ever, " To-weet-to-wee. " And his wonderful voice like the nightingale sounds; This wonderful Dumderee! Oh! the Dumderee is a wonderful sight! As wonderful as can be; I ' m bound to the land of No-where- at-all, To see the Dumderee. MARJORIE CLUTE. Give the Hun no quarter; But a L T . S. Thrift Stamp.

Page 10 text:

8 THE TARGET Only a Song Stealthily the leader of the " Idle Hour Gang " crept on. At last he reached the hedge, and from here on he knew his way perfectly. He " was a very tall man — which is sometimes very inconvenient for a burglar — and rather handsome, but no matter how clever was his disguise the hard lines on his face always indicated his terrible life. To the " Gang " he was known as " D. D. " — otherwise Dare Devil. Really he was Arthur Treble, but no one save the police and him- self knew this. He allowed one little gleam to escape from his flashlight so that he might make sure he was taking the right path. It proved to him what he had already supposed, that he was at the foot of the Maynard ' s back stairs. Slowly he ascended them, noiseless as a cat, until at last he reached the top. Suddenly from somewhere out of the silent house music was wafted down to him, beautiful music, and also a wonderful voice singing mel- odiously with it. Now it trembled, then burst forth in all its glory once more. Arthur Treble stood petrified, straining his ears, marveling, won- dering. Some unknown feeling had entered his heart. Fascinated and bewildered he stole nearer and nearer to the room from whence the music came. When he reached the door he stood silent, his heart throbbing within him. Silently he listened to what seem- ed to him sacred music. " Good-bye, my dear old mother, don ' t you cry, Just kiss your grown-up baby boy Good-bye, Somewhere in France I ' ll be dream- ing of you You and your dear eyes of blue; Come, let me see you smile before we part, I ' ll throw a kiss to cheer your dear old heart, Dry the tear in your eye, don ' t you cry, don ' t you sigh, Good-bye, mother, kiss your boy good-bye. " Through the mist in his eyes the burglar saw a vision of her, that wonderful mother who had guided him right and taught him to play fairly. If she had lived perhaps he would have been square but ever since that little green mound had grown straggly, he had gone wrong. Oh, what would she think of her boy — a burglar! Hysterically he clutched his throat, then ran wildly from the house, never minding the frightful racket he created. " Wuxtra, wuxtra, Metropolitan Bulletin, " hoarsely shouted a small newsboy the next mornin. " D. D., criminal, escaped convict, enlisted in U. S. Marines! Wuxtra, here, lady, mysterious Mr. Treble in the Xavy an ' b ' gosh M ' am the cops ain ' t even gonna ' rest him! " ELIZABETH DENBIGH. Grow potatoes, Cook potatoes, Eat potatoes, WHY? Mash potatoes, Hash potatoes, By a good ally.

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