Garfield Junior High School - Gleaner Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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which had been the main cause of my brain fag. There was a cobbler in the village who was noted for being the champeen liar of the village. In his own estimation he knew everything from shoemaking to Latin. We used to go in and ask him questions about our Latin, but the strange thing about it was that we made more mistakes with his help than without. Pretty soon we began to get wise, so we made up a sentence and asked him to translate it. It went like this: Tempus fugit et ego pecuniam habeo, which means, Time flies and I have money. We told the cobbler that we were having trouble with that sentence and asked him to help us. He was very much complimented by this acknowledgement of his supremacy, and at once began to figure. Tempus, he said. Of course that ' s storm. The rest follows easily. Storm on the sea; look out for the rocks. At last we had found him out. When six months had elapsed, I went home and resumed my studies, including Latin. But even now, I am helped by my friend, the cobbler, for often when I am feeling discouraged over some difficult bit of translation, my thoughts go back to him and the dauntless courage with which he met his Waterloo. Then I say to myself, If he could bluff it through, so can I. James Koford L-8 A MODERN DAY IN APOLLO ' S LIFE Apollo jumps into his aeroplane and starts across the horizon. Guess I ' ll stop at New York, says he, and starts the aeroplane on her downward flight. The aeroplane and its occupant float over the busy crowd until they reach a parking space. Apollo jumps out and goes to his favorite brokerage concern. He goes up to the board to learn his fortune, Aha, ' Ambrosia Consolidated, ' 659 points. ' Bar- reled Sunlight, ' 999 points. Sounds rawther good, dontcha know. He then strolls down the street until he meets Cupid and Venus, but look, Cupid is very different from the one we see in our books! His clothes and hair-comb are as perfect and stylish as Rudolph Valentino ' s, and in place of his bow, he carries a gold-headed cane. Apollo looks at his wristwatch; he must go now. He walks to his plane, jumps in, and starts back to his proper position in the heavens. Margaret Crittenden H-9. A WISH If there ' s anything I hate to do It ' s surely wash the dishes, And if a fairy came to me And gave me just three wishes, The first thing that I ' d ask of her: Excuse me from the dishes. Now you all know as well as I, That really they ' re not hard to do, And if your going to dine in style To this one custom you ' ll be true; And yet, somehow, in spite of all, Excuse me from the dishes. Theodosia Stephens L-9. GARFIELD SIRKUS (With apologies to Kipling ' s Gunga Din ) Ye may talk o ' plays an ' shows, Like a guy what thinks ' e knows, Or of fun ye think that all the other schools have But ye ' better come to our school, (it ' s an above the par school) An ' you ' ll have the foolish feelin ' that all fools have. Now in Garfield ' s friendly halls, In October, all the walls Are covered with posters for the Sirkus, Oh, we all take home the word, An ' our famblies are absurd, Savin ' , What ye comin ' now for, trvin ' to work us? Oh it ' s run! run! run! For a whackin ' lot stimulatin ' fun! There is candy and there ' s punch, With sandwiches for lunch, An ' a lot o ' side shows extry — only run! Pauline Schuster L-9. THE YARN OF BILL JOHNSON A Base Ball Story I can still see in mind ' s eye, the three hundred fifty odd pounds, that composed Bill Johnson ' s rather stout body, standing in back of the plate, ready to give the ball a swat that would make it hit Sheriff Green ' s chicken-house outside the city limits. However, Bill ' s power wasn ' t as advantageous to the Ring-necked Coyotes as it might have been, for when Bill got up to bat, the outfielders would hoof it for the city boundary, mayhap to catch a ball, but if the ball got that far. it would be too high in the air to catch, and running for it would be useless. Although Bill was strong, he mixed his strength with brains. Finally he got onto the idea of whacking the ball onto the plate with his enormous strength, and thus send it into the air, giving him time to reach first base and sometimes second, be- fore the ball got down. On September fourth the Ring-necked Coyotes were scheduled to play the Roar- ing Lilies, for the championship of Jones County. In spite of the fact that the day was cold and drizzling, people came from all over the state to see the game, and there was no thought of postponement. Finally the game started. If you were to squeeze a great many fat people together, and fill in the nooks with skinny people, you would get some idea of what I saw from an uncomfortable perch in a tree. In the ninth inning of the game, the score stood 6 to 3, Roaring Lilies, favor, and Bill was up to bat for the Coyotes. What would he do ? The bases were full, two were out. and the next man up was a sure out. If Bill hit the ball into the air it wouldn ' t stay up long enough to bring the men as well as Bill, himself, in. You could have heard a pin drop. The silence was not broken until — a whizzing ball shot from the pitchers hand — and then — whack — the crowd began to shout with excitement. One runner came, the ball was

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TO RAMON NAVARRO (Dedicated to K. R.) Oh King of Love, of heart-throbs wild and pulsing, Followed by flippant flapper and by dame, By negro lass and lovely dumb bell, Dulcy, Who blush quite red at sound of thy sweet name. Cast not thy soulful orbs on my friend Katy, The poor young thing, I fear, will go quite daff, For tho she likes thy handsome beauty greatly, Her worship is a thing to make you laugh. She stays all day at movies of thy making, Sighing like the North Wind in the trees, Her comfy home and fireside forsaking, She cares not if she bake or if she freeze. On earth thy darkly brown eyes ' sheikish beauty Is the only thing that fills her fragile head. She cares not, while she lives, to do her duty, And her spook will surely haunt you when she ' s dead. Take heed, my friend, send no films to our city That poor child ' s school work will go straight way up the flue And she, so bright, ' twould surely be a Pity To waste her precious time on naught but you! Betty Branstead H-9. THE TEXAN ' S REVENGE Hair Trigger Condon, the quickest gun- man this side of Ecuador, was engaged to Sarita Atlar, the daughter of a millionaire cattleman of Horseradish, Texas, and the owner of the Square Circle Ranch. Sarita was a slender young maiden of seventeen falls, (none of them turned out disastrously) Her lover, Hair Trigger Condon, was a man who was so hard that he scratched the bathtub. When the story opens, Kid Rush, the pride of Sing Sing, had just left his old home, and was riding on the fast morning milk train, bound for Bed Springs, Arizona. The conductor realized that the Kid was riding on a free ticket, so he gave him an in- vitation to spank the highway. Because of financial embarressment, Kid Rush found it necessary to work. He got a job at the Square Circle Ranch. While he was work- ing there, Sarita fell for him and his line, so she sent back Hair Trigger ' s ring, and told him that she loved another man. When Hair Trigger got this news, his rage was indescribable. He immediately leaped astride his terrible truckhorse, Maria, and dashed across the plains puffing steam. He anchored Maria to the ralroad track and went in search of Kid Rush, but he was not in evidence. A duel was arranged, however, for the next day at noon (Eastern Standard Time). The next day dawned bright and clear (for Hair Trigger). Condon arrived at the scene of the coming duel at half past eleven. Kid Rush was dragged to the scene by the nape of his neck, and tied to a post so he couldn ' t get away. A large crowd had gathered to witness the execution, (of the Kid). In order to scare the Kid, and show how good he was, Hair Trigger tossed a sinker, that was too stale to eat, up into the air, and took a shot at it with one of his young cannons. When the doughnut came down, the crowd rushed forward to see it, and lo! there was a hole in it! All were astonished to see the wonderful piece of marksmanship. At twelve o ' clock (Eastern Standard Time), the duel began. The men marched twenty paces apart (although the Kid could hardly walk) turned quickly, and began fir- ing. Hair Trigger began firing, and a cloud of dense, black smoke hid them from the view of the expectant crowd. They heard Hair Trigger hre twelve shots, and Rush fire one in return from his little automatic that he had used to gain entrance to Sing Sing. There was a deep silence while they waited for the smoke to clear. Suddenly a gust of wind blew the smoke away, and could you believe your eyes ? Hair Trigger lay in a pool of blood, his smoking shooting irons beside him! Kid Rush was leaning nonchalently against a post, lighting a cigarette. Sarita fell into his arms, bearing him to the ground with her four hundred and sixty-three pounds net weight. Oh, my big hero, exclaimed she, how did you do it? It was easy, replied the Kid, I went over to his joint and put blank cartridges in his guns. Arthur Boles H-9. MY ' LARM CLOCK My ' larm clock is a trusty friend, So I call him Busy Ben. And every morn when I ' m asleep, He scares me quickly to my feet. But surely if t ' were not for him, Late mornings, I ' d come strolling in, So Saturday I do my best, To let the ' larm clock take a rest. Thomas Smith L-8. AN EPISODE IN THE LIFE OF A LATIN SCHOLAR Several years ago, when I was a pupil at the Garfield School in Berkeley, it was the custom of the teachers to give four hours of homework every night. I strug- gled bravely along until I fell ill. My mother was forced to call the doctor, and after he had asked me a few questions and felt my pulse, he concluded that I had studied too hard, and should go to the country for six months, or until I should regain my former health and vigor. So I went to the quaint little village of Vacaville, where I stayed with my Uncle Jim, and Joe and Henning, my two cousins. I had a fine time playing with my cousins on Saturday and Sunday, but when the dreaded day, Monday, came my two cousins and I went to the Union High School, where I continued with the glorious study of Latin

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still not seen, another fleeting ' Coyote, crossed the plate, and still another, then even Bill came puffing up. The game was won! The crowd cheered hysterically. Bill gave the crowd a comical wink, as the Lillies ' catcher looked at his feet and there, not more than a foot away from the plate, was a small, deep, round hole in the sod, and in the bottom the lost ball! Is Bill still playing? — no. He met with an accident in New York, and the last I heard he was helping Dunderbeck make hot dogs at the Circus. Herbert Thelen, H-7. MY BOOK CASE I have a bookcase, in which are all the books I have ever read. Some are torn, battered, and partially forgotten, but there are many that are still whole and thoroughly remembered. On the lowest shelf are the smaller books which, though once loved, are now almost forgotten, for they are the ones I read when I was a very small child. On the upper shelves are all of the books I have read and liked; but the top row is reserved for my favorite books. A Boy of the Last Crusades, Men of Iron, Kip- ling ' s Jungle Book, The Talisman and many others occupy this shelf, besides Peacock Pye and several other poem- books that I like. The odd thing about my bookcase is, that it is never too small to hold all of my books; as my collection of books grows, so does my bookcase frow. Everyone has a bookcase like mine, be- cause everyone has a mind. For my book- case is no more nor less than my own mind. Pauline Schuster L-9. THE APOLLO OF THE SKIES After the hazy hours of morning have passed, far to the east where the horizon ends, I arise and greet the world. I peer into darkened rooms and waken the sleeping children by gently kissing their eyelids with my sunbeams. I make my way under the leaves autumn has left, and tiny flowers creep out and lift their faces to me. I shine on dewy lawns and lakes and transform them into myriads of diamonds. The children touch them and smiles change to frowns of perplexity. Poor little souls! They know no care, know not what the future holds. Soon childhood days will be a bygone memory that flits past like a floating bubble. I look into the courtroom! My sunbeams change a mother ' s tears to pearls. Each tear is a pearl, a symbol of purity and freshness. Would that she knew that, poor soul, as she clasps her son to her breast. I creep into sickrooms and help ease the pain. I creep into every cranny, crevice, and nook, and birds greet me with song. When I am gone all is sad. I am the Sun, the eye with which the universe beholds itself and knows itself divine. Gladys Niebling H-9. THE TRAVELING BROOKLET Gurgling over ferns and moss Farther on to leap With arms widespread to pools below Where sweet azaleas creep. Tumbling on beneath the rocks, Sunflecked, where flowers bend, Where bright-hued songsters gaily trill The brooklet sea-ward wends. Sweetly asleep in forest dells Where timid violets shrink From dusty hikers, tired and warm Who stop to rest and drink. Rushing wildly, full of life, O ' er boulders huge and stern Lingering here and there to speak To some caressing fern. Straying idly in the moonlight ' Neath the whispering trees, Happy for the peace night brings Rippling with the breeze. Singing softly all the night long Serenades to nature ' s own, Then slips into Mother Ocean Thinking of its mountain home. Betty Branstead H-9. THE GOLDEN GATE One day I took a walk into the hills. I was tired and looked around for a place to rest. There was a beautiful spot not far off where one could see right through the Golden Gate. As I was resting I went back over the years, and this is what I saw. An Indian was standing on a rock, not very far from me. He had one hand shading his eyes looking towards the Golden Gate. Just then a number of war canoes appeared through the Gate. He stood as if counting them, and then disappeared among the trees, probably to give warning to his tribe that an enemy was coming. Suddenly the scene changed. I saw three Spanish gal- leons come through and anchor in the har- bor. Then I saw a settlement and a mission being built under the shadow of Twin Peaks, and the Mission Fathers peacefully going about their work. After that, some Russians in their big b Iky boats came nosing into the harbor, only to be sent about their business to make a settlement at Fort Ross. At times a few visiting Spanish ships would come through the Gate and anchor. Next, I saw the little town of San Francisco building up almost over night. The reason for these changes was — gold. In a little while the Golden Gate was filled with hurrying, bustling ships. As soon as they got into the harbor they were abandoned because the crew was so thirsty for gold. The Golden Gate cer- tainly led to the Golden land. Soon I saw a large steamship coming through the Gate. This was the beginning of commerce and fame for the Golden State. Filled with wonder at what I had seen I wandered on my way. only to wish I had been able to enjoy the excitement and adventures of those early days in California. Eileen Halloran L-8.