Annie Wright School - Shield Yearbook (Tacoma, WA)

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II Y A K 5 TABLE OF CONTENTS Midnight Fears 7 Rebecca Stevenson A Midnight Episode 8 An Exciting Moment 9 F. O. Root Sunrise 10 Minnie Chambers My First “Joy Ride” 11 Ida Simmons The Sunny Side 12 Editorial 15 Athletics 17 Society 19 Lest Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot . 23 Personal 25 Exchanges 27 Classified Ads 29

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II Y A K 7 Midnight Fears YEAR or two ago mother and I spent a fortnight with my I aunt and cousin at their summer home on the Washington side of the Columbia river, right in the heart of the Cascades. Up to that time it had been one of the most bautiful spots of all the beautiful Columbia river scenery, but fearfully lonely, perched up there in the mountains, with no neighbors for miles around, and fear- fully quiet, with the river roaring sullenly past huge rocks, and an occasional belated train s urrying along through the tunnel on the Oregon side to break the infense stillness. But this summer the North Bank railroad was in course of construction, and as a consequence the country was infested with all varieties of tramps and their kind, in addition to the accustomed fires in the forests, so that when I was not kept awake by an imagined crackling of fire, I could not sleep for fear the house would be burglarized and the whole of us abducted during my dreams. One night w r hen the stillness was more oppressive than usual, we retired a little after ten. resolved to try at least to drown a little of the solitude in sleep. Mother and I soon fell asleep, only to be awak- ened about one o’clock by a peculiar rustling sound, which resembled most unpleasantly the crackling of flames in the dry grass, but might equally well have arisen from the kitchen, as some one stumbled over the low coal bin and became entangled in the pile of old newspapers reposing there. Both were equally probable and pleasing to con- template. A quick rush to the window proved the fallacy of our first idea, so we hastily donned dressing gowns and crept stealthily dowm the back stairs in fear and trembling, mother clutching my uncle’s old re- volver. We w T ould oust the rascally intruder? On we went, peering here and there by the dim light of the low-turned lamp, down the winding stairs to the hallw ? ay and through doors whose locks had been placed there with the idea of presenting a most formidable ap- pearance without really meaning it, until w e reached the kitchen. Throwing the door open with a quick jerk, we flashed the light sud- denly on the literary occupant of the room. There was none, literary or otherwise! We went slowly, fearfully toward the front hall, only to have our suspicions as to an unbidden guest confirmed. The front door was