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Page 4 text:
2 The Target She heard the front door slam, and then she sank dejectedly into the nearest chair. Her pie was gone. An impertinent peddler had made a per- fect goose of her. Worst of all it was too late to send for more cher- ries. That meant she must explain her silly blunder to Professor Foster. How he would laugh! A tear of dis- appointment slipped down her cheek, and soon she was crying. The door- bell rang. She heard her brother rush to the door. " No, mother had to go down town, but sister is home, " came back in her brother ' s high-pitched voice. " Sister is in the kitchen. Walk right in. Say! are you Professor Foster? " " 1 am, sonny, " answered a deep voice. Mary gasped. Before she could escape, the door opened and there stood Professor Foster. He was tall and handsome. " I beg your pardon. Your brother told me to walk right in. " At once the humor of the situa- tion occurred to Mary. Between peals of laughter she explained her mistake. " But, I can ' t possibly miss that pie, " he declared. " Here, son, " (hand- ing Mary ' s brother a half dollar) " buy us enough cherries for a pie, and keep the change. " Professor Foster sat on the edge of the table, watching while Mary made the pastry for the pie. " Have you heard that song about Billy and the cherry pie? " he sud- denly asked. " Yes, indeed, " said Mary, with a sidewise glance. The Professor looked at her oddly. " Well, Pm Billy— understand? " ALICE ROSENBERRY. IN THE NEST " My goodness, " exclaimed Mr. Bird, " I really do believe spring is here. " He eyed proudly his mate who was sitting patiently on her eggs. After bringing in the evening worms he went happily to sleep. The next day he was awakened by a mysterious sound and looking into the nest he saw a head protrude from under Mrs. Bird ' s wing. An- other followed and soon four little heads were out and four little mouths opened wide. " I ' ll certainly be busy now, " said Mr. Bird. He flew around the gardens and caught several large worms. Then he went to call on Mrs. Wren, with a worm, because her husband had been hurt by a cat. Soon a little girl came out with some crumbs and Mr. Bird brought some to Mrs. Wren and took the rest home. After sing- ing a good-night song he went to sleep, feeling happy that all the babies had hatched out. JANE RICHARDSON. JUST A TREE When I approach my home I look up at my tree. This tree does not grow in my garden, but I call it mine because I enjoy it. I think it is a Chinese plum tree. Its blossoms are very pretty, being white with dashes of pink here and there. The branches are brown, making a good combination of colors. As I look into my tree I say, " It is doing its part in the world by making the world beautiful. " I go on my way full of happiness knowing my tree will make others happy also. WRIGHT MORTON.
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Willard Intermediate High School, Berkeley VOL VIII APRIL, 1920 NO 1 Billie and the Cherry Pie fhe morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, disclosing Mary wrapped in a fresh gingham apron. There was a daub of flour on hei cheek. A recipe book, open at " Pies, " was propped up in front of her. A dish of stoned cherries stood on the table, proving that the pastry she was carefully rolling out must be for cherry pie. " Mary, Mary, will you come? " came from above. " In just a minute, mother, I am putting my pie in the oven, " called back Mary. Mary hastened to her mother ' s room. With a regretful smile her mother looked up. " I am so sorry I must go down town. I forgot to tell you that Will Foster is coming over this morning. You know your father brought him over several times while ycm were camping. He was at the reception last night and we were discussing cooking. Such poor refreshments were served, and he said to be able to bake good cakes and pies was really an accomplishment. I told him you were going to make your first cherry pie this morning, and lie declared he was coming over for a piece. " Mary looked aghast. " Mother! you told Professor Fos- ter that! Suppose the pie isn ' t good! " " I ' m not worrying about that, " re- plied her mother. " Well, " Mary mused, " I don ' t know. " " Run along and see that your pie doesn ' t burn, " said her mother, " and tell Professor Foster how sorry I am not to see him. " Scarcely fifteen minutes had passed when the door-bell rang. Mary had just taken her pie out of the oven. The pie was perfect. It had not even sizzled over. Alary went to the door, but she felt disappointed as she glanced at the young man before her. His eyes twinkled merrily as he lifted his hat. " Good morning, ma ' am. " " Come in, won ' t you? " Mary said sweetly. " Mother had to go down town, but I will try and .fill her place. " " Cherry pie, I do believe? I haven ' t had any since I was a boy. " Of course I shail have to give you some after that, " laughed Mary. They went into the kitchen and proceeded to eat the pie. They had a jolly time After every crumb had vanished. Mary sang, " This is the end of a per-, feet pie! " As the young man started to go he said, " What dandy floors you have. Ever use O ' Shino on them? You haven ' t? Don ' t you want to try some? I ' m putting myself through college by selling it, and it is only a quarter of a dollar for two cans. " Mary r looked at him dazedly. " Why, I thought you were — . No! I think we don ' t wan ' t any, to-day, " she stammered.
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The Target The Goddess of the Clouds 3 In a beautiful, secluded valley in China, beside a pretty little stream, stood a little thatched hut. In it lived Hopeful, who had been banished from the Emperor ' s court because he befriended an old woman who had been sentenced to death. The old woman escaped. She was the queen of the gods who came to the earth to see what it was to be a mortal. Hopeful lived here for two years and he grew to love the pretty green valley and the great tall mountains. As he was sitting on the bank of the stream one day thinking of the gay court life from which he had been banished, the beautiful goddess of the clouds, whose name was Faith, alighted from a little golden cloud chariot, drawn by two snow white lambs. Faith saw Hopeful and she fell in love with him. Faith had a guardian who loved her very much He was very selfish and he did not want her to be married. He had two of his servants take her away to a lonely island which was guarded by two fierce dragons. -One of them was on the northern side and one was on the southern side. The island had a spell over it and the spell could be broken only by killing the dragon on the southern side of the island. Hopeful set out to rescue Faith. On his way he met a very old woman who was trying to carry a heavy chest, and he offered to carry it for her. She was the queen of the gods whom he helped in the Emperor ' s court. When they got to the end of the valley the old woman said: " You have helped me very much, so I will reward you. " She gave him a ring set with a beautiful diamond, and a long sword and said: " This ring will make you invisible if you turn the stone three times to the right. To become visible again you must turn the stone the other way four times. This sword is very valuable and you must not let any one touch it. When you get to the ocean you will find a boat. Get into it and say, ' I want to get to the southern side of the island on which Faith is imprisoned. ' Kill the dragon you will find there and Faith will come to you. " Having said this, she vanished. Hopeful followed her directions and when he got there he turned the ring three times to the right. Fie went up to the dragon and killed it. He turned the ring back and Faith came to him and kissed him. Faith ' s guardian died when the dragon was killed. Faith and Hope- ful were soon married in the garden of the gods. The beautiful flowers sent out their sweetest fragrance and all the gods rejoiced. Faith did not want to live with the gods, so the gods made them a beautiful palace in the valley and there they lived hap- pily. MINNIE SOO-HOO. PERPETUAL Pauline Lemon ' s smiles. Francis Smith ' s fours. Charles Shepard ' s fingers. Ruth Davenport ' s dimples. Helen Brasfield ' s brains. Dorothy Angus ' tongue. Elwood Woolsey ' s wanderlust.
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