Annie Wright School - Shield Yearbook (Tacoma, WA)

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LITERARY EFFORTS AT THE ZOO At the 200 In Honolulu The monkeys Boo to you. The lions roar And tricks the Bears do. Elephants eat Peanuts. Birds sing their Song near the huts At the 200 In Honolulu. BARBARA OHNICK, Fifth Grade. THE RIVER He loved the river. Its dignity — its silence — was all a part of him. He had been bom and reared beside it, and he knew that something in the massive way in which it flowed would refuse him the freedom that other men knew. He was drawn by it and must stay there as long as his soul was in this land. Whenever his mind was troubled he would stand on the shore and ga2e into its currents until the burning torture in his brain was cooled by its frowning depths. In the autumn, before the snow fell, and when the river was very low, he could gather enough drifrvs ood from the sands to last him throughout the long cold season. In the winter he would stand beneath a tree on the water ' s edge with the snow drifting softly around him, and except for the faint roar of the falls in the distance and the low gurgle of water in a whiripool, the earth was deathly still and white. At last when the spring came and the snow melted in the mountains, the river would be a rushing, swollen flood. And at night he would lie on his couch and listen to it roar and echo as it went over the falls a mile to the southward. The very source of his life was a river that is praised by other men only for its commercial values; yet he was content, for the river was his ' very soul, flowing on and on, and stopping for nothing until it reached its goal, the sea. PATRICIA CRANE, 1939. THE PORCUPINE The porcupine is the pincushion of the animal world. He cannot shoot his quills from his tail as some people claim. You can only get them in you if you are hit with his tail or if you should bump into him. He has no quills on his stomach. The young are in an advanced stage at birth. They have their eyes open and a full set of quills. Hemlock is the favorite food of the porcupine. He climbs a tree and stays there for days, strip- ping the branches of their bark and every green twig. He craves axe handles for the salt they con- tain. Th ' s bis r ade him unpopular in northern camps The law protects the clumsy pordcy. He can- not be shot, but a man lost in the woods with, out a gun can catch him for food. PHYLLIS LEA ZOPY, Eighth Grade. LAND OF THE SHINING MOUNTAINS Long ago when the lands of the prairie West were srill untitled, when buffalo roamed the open range, and Indians and white men lived peacefully as brothers, a small settlement sprang up in a fer- rile valley of the Rockies, The settlers were immi- grants from many far-off countries, come to Mon- tana for freedom and happiness— the realization of all their dreams. Toil and struggle against frigid avalanches of winter snow, scorching heat of summer sun, and every other rigor of wind and weather were but a small price to pay for a land where the brotherhood of nun reigned supreme. Some of the pioneers were learned men, most were not. Yet all had absorbed the wisdom and philos- ophy of the plains, taught by awe-inspiring, ever whispering silence. Perhaps the majestic moun- tains showed them the virtue of steadfastness, and the friendly, laughing brooks made them reali2e a value of a handclasp or a cheery word. For these men, old and young alike, lived life bravely and faced death gallantly, never acknowledging fear or defeat. What happened when the little colony was attacked by influenza? The doaor, an old and well-loved member of the band, went his rounds as long as he was able, administering a kind word with every spoonful of bitter medicine. Then he, too, was stricken, and there was no one who could

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FIFTH AND SIXTH GRADES Back Row: Avonne Nelson, Ailene Hoveland, Frances McGinnis, ' Iing, Winifred Saxon. Middle Row: Bar- bara Lou Rogers, Jane Bronson, Barbara Sutherland, Barbara Lad on Ingram. Front Row: Babette Kuert, Vir- ginia Schwan, Sally Gould, Alice Ann Beal, Barbara Ohnick. SEVENTH AND EIGHTH GRADES Back Row: Esther Hild, Mary Ann Ellison, Anita Derby, Nancy Corse, Ann Weyerhaeuser, Ann Chapman, Winifred Lucey, Lila Sullivan, Front Row: Vera Eraser, fary Elizabeth Abell, Mary Lea Griggs, Louise Wilbur, Phyllis Zopf, Nancy Longstreth.

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read L itin labels in order to mix prescriptions. No one, but a lad of eighteen who knew a little Latin. And so he took the doaor ' s place, becoming physician, pharmacist, and distributor of medicine, on duty day and night. Time dragged along. The boy worked on, uncomplaining, tireless. Finally the crisis passed, and all was well again. The boy resumed his daily tasks unrewarded — expeaing no reward. And as it was with the boy so was it with all men, and ever shall be with the few who yet remain. In them the valiant, dauntless, open- hearted spirit of all Montana will never die. I know for the boy is my father. TISHELLE HIRSHBERG, 1936. THE CASTLE TREE Once upon a time there stood a tree Poised upon a slope of green, Braced against the winter ' s wind, I do not know what kind of tree it was — Perhaps it was a maple or an oak — To me it wa5 the Castle Tree, A tree that held all the joy That can enchant a child ' s soul. Inside its round, encircling dome There was a great, magnificenr p;i!are Filled with spacious rooms, And stairways made from branches bending low This tree was far from home; At every chance I ran To clamber to its leafy towers And slide down its entwining vines. Distant horizons and far away lands Have ever called man ' s soul. It was the Castle Tree that stirred That first great longing in my heart. ELIZABETH GOODE, 1937. OBIIT For many dark hours the commander lay on his cot, breathing in the long, gasping breaths of approaching death. Nothing could ease him; noth- ing could sweeten the dreadful hours before sleep came; only dreams could carry his mind to lands beyond the field of battle where rifles cracked, airplanes disturbed heaven ' s peace, and bombs shattered earth and air. Could nothing soothe him? Could nothing relieve him. Shyly a boy who had been standing near by stepped up to the general. Could he not go in search of a dream to bring to the commander? The wise old general smiled. Yes, he might try. Out into the wonderland of night the small boy went. As he trod his exhausting way his heart became leadened with despair and his body heavy with weariness. Finally before him loomed the workshop of dreams, veiled but not hidden. An aged man came toward him from out of shadowy darkness to guide and help him in seleaing a dream. Heroism, gallantry, pomp and grandeur, honors given and taken were all dreams shown to him. But had not his commander known all these and wearied of them? The large shadowy mass of the dream of power was shown him. Slow- ly he shook his head. No, the general longed to be free from the power that was his. To be a line soldier, striving once again had formed into a wish on his lips. Dreams of glittering wealth, of travel, even of friends were a reality to him. Far over in a comer the boy saw a cloudy mass of blue slowly being wrought into a dream. When he saw it he knew that it was the dream he wanted for his commander. It was the dream of a mother ' s love and understanding, her guiding care and dauntless encouragement. As the little boy brought the dream back and laid it at the side of the great warrior ' s bed, a word passed his lips that he had not Uttered for many years — Mother. As he smiled, eternal sleep rested with him. JANE THOMAS, 1937. THE BEAUTIFUL LITTLE RUG There was a very poor family that lived in Taliful, China. There were two children and a father in the family. It was Chang Po ' s birthday. Chang Po for about a year wanted some wool to make into a little rug, but her father said they were too poor. But her father and brother had saved up money for her to give to her for her bitthday to make the rug. She was so happy she never forgot that day. She worked on her rug for about six months. It was the most beauriful rug ever made by a little girl. She sold it and received some more money to make more rugs, and finally they were poor no more. DONNA ROGERS, Fourth Grade.