Ben Blewett Junior High School - Junior Life Yearbook (St Louis, MO)

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T ' Swat The Prize Story Contest 'The Story Writers Club announces that in the contest open to the whole school the following were given prizes: How Meade Scored Us Off by Eugene jacques. An Amazing Adventure by Cecil Boughner. The following stories were awarded honorable mention: The Haunted House of St. Arcos by Olive jaedeman. The Story of a Daguerreotype by Frances C. Davis. Our Burglarv by Elizabeth Meysenberg. The Cloud Fairies by Jeanne Trader. A Little Bit of Goodness by Marion Thorpe. The Lucky Mistake by Froncie Wood. Things Are Not What They Seem by Virginia L. Force. CL H 66 ca Several of these stories appear elsewhere in this book. The others will be published in later numbers of The Junior Life. Eleanor C, Byrne, Elizabeth Toomey, Helen McCalpin, Virginia Hens- ley, Lucille Powell, Margaret Gilmore, Committee. By the Sea Out by the sound of the lashing wave, The sun shines brightg A light-house standing grim and gray In a golden light. Out by the shore of sand and rock The flap of wingsg Of lands beyond the sea's latch and lock, The sea-bird sings. Out where the song of the pines is soft, A wild thing callsg Although it may crawl or jump aloft It is caged by the great shore walls, Out from the land of the ships astray The night winds roarg While many a storm by waves is waylaid Efer it's cast ashore. Froncie Wood-8th Grade. 10

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'dt' , v. V ' - IEJEEFEA street lamp threw its dim and iitful light, and disappeared in the enveloping gloom. At the same instant came the sound of running feet. Then sharp and clear above the rumbling thunder came a shriek, the like of which I had never heardg then all was still save the pattering of the rain. Why had not the pursuer passed the light as the pursued had? Why that one shriek, then qu,iet?,' These thoughts shot through my mind like a flash of the lightning of the storm outside. Forgetting my hat and overcoat, but grasping my flash light, I dashed out of the house, taking as nearly as possible the path of the dim form. Suddenly I stopped as if held back by an unseen hand. stood until the next flash of lightning revealed at my feet ani open manhole. The mystery was explained. The shriek, the quiet, the ceasing of pur- suit, all were explained. All had been planned. The open manhole was directly where one running and stumbling off the curb would step directly into it. The pursuer had stopped as soon as he had heard the shriek. I bent over as far as possible without falling in and flashed on my light. Simultaneously with the flashing of my light I heard rather than felt a crushing blow, a blow so great that all that saved me from falling into the hole was a pair of strong arms. My last conscious thought was this: You're jolly well right, old chap, it was all planned, and very well planned, I'll admit? The next thing I can remember was gentle swaying that told me in- stantly I was on ship board. It seemed too much of an effort to open my eyes. When I finally did work up energy enough to look around, all was dark, save a small ray of light that came from a greasy lantern, the odor of which was so great that after a while I extinguished it, leaving the room totally dark, Questions tumbled over one another in my dizzy brain. Where am I? How did I get here? Is it night or day? Then a key turned in the lock and a burly form entered, carrying a lan.- tern. I sat up painfully, a thumping pain at the base of my head telling me that it would not stand for such rough handling and remain humbly passive. The burly form suddenly asserted itself in a voice that shook the cabin. Hello! old fellow, how are you feeling? Very well, save a rather severe headache , I replied. i What would you expect after the sandbag? he feturned laughing roughly, Come on, boys , he called. The others trooped in, pulling off their disguises and laughing up- roariously. My friends had satisfied themselves that they had proven to me that my statement was wrong. But though I did not say so, not wanting an- other broken head, I still claim that that was a hatched adventure. Cecil Boughner-8th Grade. 9

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f :wel La Fontaine de Jeunesse Une fois, il y a longtemps, un pauvre vieux paysan coupait du bois sur le versant diune montagne ties elevee, quand il trouva une source d'eau pure et fraiche. ll se mit a genoux et but profondement, car il faisait tres chaud et il avait grand soif. L'eau etait etonnamment rafraichissante, mais ce qui 1'etonna plus encore quand il apergut son image dans l'6tang, ce fut de voir qu'il etait soudain devenu jeune. Les rides de son visage avaient disparu, ses yeux etaient devenus clairs et brillants, et sa tete qui un moment aupara- vant etait chauve, etait couverte d'6pais cheveux noirs. Et quand il se releva, il sentit que la vigueur de le virilite battait par tout son corps. Il avait bu 51 la fontaine de jeunesse. Rempli de joie, il descendit en toute hate le versant de la montagne, et courut annoncer l'heureuse nouvelle a sa femme. Quand il se precipita dans la petite chaumiere. il causa 21 la pauvre femme un effroi terrible car elle ne pouvait s'imaginer qui etait cet etrange jeune homme, tant etait change le vieillard du matin. Il eut beaucoup de peine a la calmer et a la convaincre qu'i1 etait vraiment son mari. Et alors elle se mit 51 pleurer, car elle craignlait qu'un si beau jeune homme serait indifferent pour une pauvre vieille femme comme elle. Mais vous boirez, aussi, s'ecria-t-il, et alors nous serons jeunes tous les deux. je puis facilement vous diriger vera la sourceg allez-y, elle ne revenait pas. Qu'etait-il arrive? S'etait elle egaree? Enfinl, grande- pendant que je resterai ici pour garder la chaumiere. Une heure, deux heures passerent, un long temps s'ecoula, et cependant ment alarme, il partit a sa recherche. Il retrouva facilement la source, mais point sa femme. Il ne la voyait pas aux alentours et elle ne repondait pas a. son appel. Dans son desespoir, il etait pret a abandonner ses recherches, quand il entendit un gemissement plaintif venant du buisson voising 'ayant ecarte les branches, il trouva une toute petite enfant. La pauvre femme, dans son ardeur, avait bu trop profondement. Judith Spencer-9th Grade. The Latin Club ,157 , X HE Latin Club has twenty-one members. The officers are Ber- g nard Block, presidentg Vincent Fortune, vice-president and rx james McClellan, secretary. At some of our meetings, we study the life and customs of the Romansg at others, we spend our time on etymology, which is far more interesting than it sounds. Some of our members are at work on charts dealing with such sub- jects as The LaWyer's Use of Latin , The Doctor's Use of Latin , The Cartoonist's Use of Classical Subjects and Everyday Latin Expressions. Of course, we sing the Carmina Latina , and at times we even descend from our classic heights to indulge in games-Latin games, of course. james McClellan. 11