Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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manager, Mr. Hayden, informed us that the horse had lived the earlier part of his life on the Arabian desert. Wildfire, so named because of his unusal fleetness, was slenderly built. His small hoofs and tapering legs carried him over the ground with marvelous speed. Large intelligent eyes were set widely apart in his spirited head. His massive neck was arched gracefully. A long, silken mane flowed down upon his shoulder, adding to his beauty. At my first opportunity I went up to Wildfire to make friends with him. I saw from his actions that he was gentle, notwithstanding his noticeable spirit. When I advanced to pat him on his glistening coat he made no attempt to jerk back upon his halter-rope, but leaned toward me and rubbed his nose upon my shoulder in a thoroughly friendly manner. I had candy in my pocket and offered him a piece. He took it from the palm of my hand daintily. After eating it, he stretched his upper lip high above his teeth, causing it to quiver, as if in appreciation of my sweets. I imagined he was taking this horse-fashion of thanking me. All too soon I had to leave him. When I turned away Wildfire whinnied a soft goodbye, regretfully, I thought. But his regret could not have been half so great as mine. A lump came to my throat as I parted with this beautiful and gentle-mannered fellow, the handsomest horse I have ever seen. MARGARET THOMAS. ARROW, MY PONY I HAVE a pony, and his name is Arrow. The reason I named him Arrow is because he is as sharp as an arrow. I mean to say, he is very bright. Every morning, after breakfast, we go out into the yard and have school together. That sounds strange, but it is true. First I say A, and he stands up on his hind legs; that means the letter A. I say B, he turns around; C, he paws the ground three times; for D he shows his teeth; for E he lays his ears flat down on his head; for F he lifts up one little hoof and I shake hands (and hoofs) with him; G, he runs, jumps over a fence and is back again with me; for H he lies down on the ground for one minute; at I he runs up to me, I get him, and we go for a little ride. That is as far as I have taught him. But we intend to master the whole alphabet and then seek more to conquer. MARY BURG.

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The Thrilling Experience of a Little Calf IN THE winter of 1893, while my father had charge of a large ranch on the Sacramento River, there were quantities of snow in the mountains, which melted and caused the river to rise at the rate of one inch per hour. My father saw the danger of the river overflowing its banks and also the levees, which are made of dirt piled up several feet high above the river bank to protect the farms. He called his working men together and they filled sacks with dirt and piled them on top of the levee. They saw that the water would soon overflow the sacks of dirt, so the men raised the levee by using long boards, twelve inches wide. Even this was not sufficient and they saw that, in spite of their efforts, the water would creep over the top of the boards and flood the land. The next thing to do was to save the horses and cows, and all were turned loose except one little calf which was left in the barn by mistake. My father and the men were compelled to desert the farm in order to save their lives. The next day they returned in boats, riding over the top of the fences. The water had come in with such force that the house had been turned around and shifted to another spot. The water stood about three feet deep in the house and was rushing with great speed around the corners of the house and barn. During the flood some boards had been torn off of the barn at one corner and this little calf had walked out. My father found him standing in scarcely any water, while all around him the water was about three feet deep. On account of the swiftness of the water, it rushed around the corner of the barn, leaving a little shallow place where the calf found room to stand and thereby save his life. The men put him in their boat and took him to safety. MARY ROBIN STEINER. WILDFIRE LAST summer when I was north visiting relatives, a rodeo was held in town. Among the horses was a wonderful, milk-white Arabian steed. He was very high-spirited and the most beautiful animal I have ever seen. Arabian horses are very rare in this country so my father and I, both being very fond of horses, inquired about this unusual creature. The

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A PRINCE THERE WAS Long ago, the minstrel sang, A prince rode out to war; And did great deeds, as I have heard, That ne ' er have been before. He rode far up the dales and down, Upon a great white horse A.nd finally came upon a town, And burst right in by force. And there he found a beauteous maid, With hair as fair as gold; And she upon his neck did fall, And him her story told. And after he had rescued her And taken her to his home, He married her on Christmas Day, Her gown was just like foam. BARBARA KIERULFF. FARM AFFAIRS IT WAS nearing twilight and the large red sun, as it slowly disappeared behind the horizon, changed into many queer and gaudy shapes and forms. Silhouetted on the brink of a low hill, among the waving wheat, which tossed about like a restless sea with each little breath of wind, stood Manual. Manual was the hired farm hand on the Canfield ' s ranch, and owing to his great strength, could do the work of three men. He gazed over the vast fertile valley thoughtfully for a moment and then descended. Follow- ing close behind him with drooping heads and scraggly manes and tails, which waved in the breeze, paced Bessy and Dan. Bessy and Dan were the two large work horses on the farm. Both seemed tired and hungry from a hard day ' s hay bucking, and longed for a good refreshing roll on the soft turf in the corral before retiring. As Manual came sauntering along, whistling the popular tune of that time, We, we Marie, which he often played at the town dances on his harmonica, he was stopped by May Rupe, the red-haired cook, whose pies Manual was always ready to eat.