Central Junior High School - Reflector Yearbook (Saginaw, MI)

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Zn egg-b ang THE ANNUAL REFLECTOR 19 I +I 14+ He wanted to help the man but he knew many lives depended on him, so he sped onward. He at last reached his destina- tion. They're trapped! he blurted out to the chief. I'm the only man free ! We must have more men! They gathered more detectives and police to wipe out the place. They followed the man swiftly until they came to the Chinamen's hideout. Mean while the Chinamen, thinking no one had escaped, were trying to decide what to do with so many captives. This is where the policemen found them. Sur- rounded by police and guns, the Chinese surrendered. They freed the slaves and hurried the Chinese to the station. They had found Carolyn asleep in a small room. At the station, after going through the third degree, the chief confessed to his part in the affair, You might as well know, he sobbed, Here is my story. Old General Huntington in the war, sunk a ship he knew my mother, sister, wife, son, and daughter were on. They had long dreamed of coming to America. I vowed Iwould get my revenge. One night I knew I had my chance. Hunt- ington was dozing off in the library. I climbed in thru a secret door and poisoned him. When his granddaughter came, I vowed I would take her for ransom. I put on an ape's suit with an immense claw. Itook her blindfolded to my house. It was I who dropped that note! I was going back to China with the money I got for ransom. Now I am lost forever ! Carolyn was glad to be back with her father and the rest. She is not afraid to stay in the house any longer. They have no enemies now. Shortly after her return, her father bought her a beautiful dog which she named Pal Often Pal and she wandered thru the meadows and woods of the state. She has almost for- gotten that terrible happening and really enjoys her life at the mansion. GNWKS Some have much and some have more, Some are rich and some are poor, Some have little, some have less, Some have not a cent to bless, Their empty pockets, yet possess, True riches in true happiness. -john Oxenliam. I Our Central Junior High SCHOOL everyone loves! Children who are in the grade schools cannot wait till their six years of elementary work are over. They keep dreaming of the year to come when they shall step inside the door and be able to say, I am a student at Central Junior High School. This school was built twelve years ago and still contains the loveliness and beauty it did then. To say farewell to Central seems impos- sible tor it seems as if it were but yesterday that I was in the seventh grade. I have en- joyed Central and the teachers immensely and know that every other ninth grader has also. A group of about five hundred boys and girls will be leaving this school in June but there will be other children in September to take our places. . The seventh, eighth and ninth grades of 1931-1932 have cooperated very well. When the new comers come, cooperate with them also, so that it maybe said, Central has a fine student body and always shall have. , I shall now say farewell to Central, and wish it the brightest of futures. Marjorie Frenzel, 9A. GNQXD Honorable Mention, Poetry Contest Ouf SCl lOOl By THERESA MUSIELAK, 9A Each day I go to a certain school Where we obey the safety rule, This school belongs to you and me, 1t's Central Junior High you see. We all learn to be happy and bright. And see that every thing goes on alright, If our good work was to stop, Central Junior would be losing a lot. Your school and mine is very great These pupils, have loads of fate, They try to do their very best, Believe it or not, they're not like the rest. Happiness here and there, The teachers marks are all so fair, We all pitch in and do our best Joining together like birds in their nest. This school does need a lot of praise, From you and me who helped it raise It's American children who learn so much, Sending them on the road of good luck. -ag-fav H! .ri

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YD .9 18 aka THE ANNUAL REFLECTOR H 1+ Mystery of Huntington Mansion Story Contest, Honorable Mention, by ROSEMARIE RAYMOND, 8A s THE sUN went down beyond the hori- zon, Carolyn Blain, the pretty young heiress to the Huntington Mansion, walked wonderingly through the large halls and peered eagerly, yet a little hesi- tantly into the large library of her grand- father's old mansion. Grandfather Huntington had died near- ly two years before and some neighbors said the house was haunted. Carolyn had been graduated from college two years before but had been very sorrowful because of her mother's death. Her aged father al- most died of shock and could not stay in the home any longer. Thus this New York girl now came to live in this lonely old mansion with her father and several ser- vants. As Carolyn peered through the great doors, a strange feeling came over her. The huge fireplace had a blazing tire with- in it which gave the room a somewhat cheerful look. Yes, there was grand- father's old easy chair near the fireplace with the cat's cushion nearby. The Walls were all lined with rare and expensive books. It looked very mysterious to Carolyn in spite of all this cheer and luxury. As she was meditating as to what to do, one of the maids hurried by. Carolyn asked her about the strange-looking lib- rary. It is a long story, she sorrow fully said. It was in this library your dear grandfather died-of poison. The crime was committed by some unknown creature. We have unsuccessfully tried to find clues. Unseen by either maid or heiress,ahairy black claw with scarlet nails stealthily crept from behind the silken drape. lft hes- itated above Carolyn's head and then-all of a sudden, it grabbed the frightened girl and both quickly vanished. The maid, up- on hearing a scream, looked up to find her- self alone. She ran out ofthe library, down the stairs and to Carolyn's father. He at once phoned some New York police who came immediately but could find no clue whatever. After they had gone, Carolyn's father went into the library to think things over. As he sat there with his head in his hands thinking his life was in vain, a note was dropped in front of him. It was on purple parchment. In the right corner was an address as follows: BEWARE OR DIE ! He read it over and over not quite be- lieving it, although he knew it must be true. He did not see the wicked, yellow face that watched him from a corner of the window. The figure crept stealthily away, but Mr. Blain sat still-very still in a faint. In the meantime, Carolyn had been car- ried blindfolded, through many narrow, winding, low passages to a bare, cheerless room. Wicked-looking Chinamen were standing all about her. Here and there wasatimid whiteslave. Shewas afraid! How she wished her father could help her! Little did she know what was happening at home. Jane had entered the library again to ind Carolyn's father in a dead faint. Jane saw something in his limp hand. lt was the purple parchment. So this was the cause! She showed it to a detective who had just entered. Luckily he could read Chinese writing. We'll get them this time, laughed the detective. We've had plenty of trouble with these Chinese. They're the trickiest gang in the country-and the most wicked. The father, terrified, sent for all the police and detectives available. He ordered them to search every corner in Chinatown. They went to the address written on the note but, apparently, the room was bare. Then a policeman noticed a niche in the floor. He stuck his finger in it and to the other's surprise, he opened a small door with a steep stairs leading down. They all hurried down till they came to a small room. Certainly, they thought, this must lead somewhere. They pushed against the walls and looked everywhere but could see no other door. When they turned to go a partition slowly descended from the ceiling. Only two men escaped. The rest were trapped ! f The two men who had escaped sped the way they had come. As they were going through the last passage, one of the men saw his partner fall to the ground. K 'D 4:51315 0422 N.

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20 THE ANNUAL REFLECTOR +I First Prize, 7th Grade Poetry,Contest The Violet By PATSY LEWLESS The beautiful violet slender and tall, Was queen of them all, All sorts of iiowers of every hue, Red, yellow, purple and blue. The violet was pleased with her subjects so fair, And guarded and kept them all with care, The violet, their proud queen, Ruled with an air supreme. One day a flower, gowned in white, Budded forth into sight. She grew so straight and tall-H That the violet looked little and small. The violet, little and poor, Was their queen no more The iiower who was new, Now was their queen, dressed in snow-colored hue. The new nodded to the poplar trees, And talked with the gentle breeze. Till one day the queen so proud, Saw the sun go behind a cloud. The storm came at last, Bringing a cold bitter blast, . The north wind came in with a clash And the poor queen felt his lash. After all, the rain, When the sun came out again The queen was broken and bentg Her throne was up for rent. The little violet was now straight and tall, She had stood through it all. Again she took the queen's retreat, Saying never again would there be defeat. Qitfb First Prize, 8th grade Poetry Contest Midnight in the Home of a Poor Old Poet By MARTHA LUM The world is at rest, every thing is silent, Hidden away from sight, like little birds in the nest, My heart is iull of pain and droops with loneliness, The cold north wind, that bends the sweet bamboo, Bring to my sad and lonely heart their bitter cry. And I sigh to the moon that shines in silent glory Pouring her silver light alike on the gay and sad. It falls on my sad heart too With a ray that keeps some warmth, Moon, oh Moon! do stay with me! I need your presence The Moon does not answer-she keeps right on her way. Slowly, she disappears, dead to my pain and regret, Leaving me all alone With my longings, With my thoughts. First Prize, 9th Grade Poetry Contest The Ancient Path By BIRD-ELLEN M. GAGE I followed a road as lonely as grief, But I was not lonely. The road was as old as the pines, But I was not old. The road today was as young as youth For 'twas spring and I was young, So the path was mine. From an ancient pine came a voice Like the wail of the wind Beware the road, 'twas trod by my fathers of old Their ghosts love you not. Smiling, I tossed my head. For I was young and cared not for ghosts, And the path was mine. On I walked, till a hand like fate, Reached out to bar my way, And columns of living gold dusted with rose Ascended embracing the skies. The iiame leaped, it laughed, it spoke. With a voice like the song of the sea, Nor yours, nor mine, the road - but God's own way Then I fied the dark wood, for I was afraid, For lo, I was old-old. QJQVD Second Prize, Sth Grade Poetry Contest My House By MARILYNN MORRISON I want a house where I can look Through shiny windows 1 At a jewel clear brook That holds within its arms a quiet tree: And sometimes the beautiful rea, sun Sailing in a quiet canoe, And all around, wilderness and birds, Little hidden gardens all about, California poppies on a slope 'ef To climb and gropeg And olive tinted rocks, Jewels in a satin-cushioned box, Wild English pansies in a hollow, With creeping phlox Very early, but telling Of warmer days to follow. Inside, a living room of size With velvet rugs and shaded lightsg A fireplace for winter nights, A touch of scarlet here and there, An open cupboard and lounging chair, A place where guests are welcomed, And may come and rest. To find themselves deeply interested in Books in my living-room of size, A fleet of tiny boats For storied streams, Sailing on an oaken shelf, And cargoed with my dreams. 0