Cochran Junior High School - Yearbook (Johnstown, PA)

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COCHRAN AERIAL , g H V , , H Oh, me! Oh, my! said the French doll, I do wish I would soon get out into the world. Yes, but we could not be together and that would be worse, said the tin soldier. just then the little Spanish dancer came up all excited. Oh! she said, I had been looking out the window and all at once it was opened. Now we can go out, said Rose. O goody, goody, goody! All three went to the window, but to their disappointment it was closed. Perhaps you caniopen it again, said Rose. . ,: jack tried and tried, but all in vain. just then the door opened and in walked the toykeeper and they all scampered back to their places. All was quiet. 'l he next day a lady came with a little girl and bought the French doll and the tin soldier. ANNA MAE ROCK, Term IV. . .O . THE BATTLE Nine years ago I was in an entirely different CO111111l111llIy than I am to-day, for at that time I was witnessing one of the battles of the World War in Europe, and many a time I nearly became' a victim of it. But I'm getting ahead of my story. Mother. grandmother, Aunt Nancy, our servant, and I lived in a rented house in Ukraine, which stood at the end of the village Osiwtzi. Its gardens were on the banks of a small river called Strypa. VVe had boarders, an army doctor and his two servants. The doctor was a nice old man. Every time he went to the neighboring town, he took me with him on his horse, and I was sure to get some goodies. One day he seemed very sober and not nearly as jovial as usual. After an interview with grandmother, he went with his servants to the garden a11d began to dig in the corn plot under a tall poplar tree. In the CVCl1l11g I went exploring and found that they had dug a large hole under the roots of the tree and the corn. Two days later I found myself in that awful hole, screaming, wailing and kicking. I lay in the servaut's lap while above us raged a terrible battle. We were between two fronts. The Russians were on the other bank of the river, and the Ukrainians behind the house. The bullets, cannon balls, and shrapnel made a terrible din, but it seems to me I made the most noise. Thus passed four days a11d when the battle ceased, nothing re- l113lllCCl of our house but a pile of ashes and ruins. All that was left for us to do was move to another village, and so we kept on moving from one place to another trying to escape the dreaded war. At last escaping the war, we landed in America. GLORIA CI-IAPELSKY, Term III. ii0. BIOGRAPHY OF AN ERASER I am a little eraser. My mother is a large tree along the Amazo11 River in South America. We lived very happily together until one day a man came around and tapped the tree. My brothers, sisters, and I were then taken away in a bucket. ' Our family was now very scattered. We entered every vocation, becoming tires, rubber bands, raincoats, and all kinds of things. I be- came an eraser and my new home was in a store. , I did not live there long before a small boy bought me for two cents. The hardest part of my life now began because my new master was u11kind. He took me to school. There he rubbed me so hard Cforty threel

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ADVANCED ORCHESTRA

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GIRLS BASKETBALL TEAM