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Page 22 text:
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First Humorous Prize HUNKO ' TIN (Parody on Gunda Din by Kipling) If you want ' a buy a car And your money won ' t go far But you need it in your business pretty bad, Then you ' ll find a little car, That ' ll take you pretty far It ' s the one that ' s satisfactory to be had. Though its din, din, din, You hear an awful banging from within; But it takes you day by day Faithfully along the way Although it ' s just a little hunko ' tin. When you ' ve had it near a year, And it ' s filled you full of cheer, Don ' t forget that I ' m the guy who put you wise, For I ' ll guarantee you this ' Twill please brother, ma, and sis And they ' ll surely send its praises to the skies. Though it ' s bang, bang, bang, It most assuredly makes an awful clang And although it ' s made of tin, Over every road you ' ve been You ' ll find that it will always take the gang. You had better take this hint, Don ' t go off and buy a Flint Or invest your silver dollars in a Star; Please don ' t buy a Chevrolet It will eat up all your pay But to buy a Ford is getting one good car. When you ' ve had it quite a time And it doesn ' t seem to shine You will bring this old quotation into use, Though I ' ve cursed you and I ' ve flayed you By the honest hands that made you, You ' re far better than a Packard, hunko ' tin. Fred Stripp L-9. Second Humorous Prize BOBBIE AT THE ZOO Monkeys, zebras, and camels we saw, And laughing hyenas that ate their meat raw, Elephants, tigers, and lions, too, We saw in their cages that day at the zoo. Monkeys were chattering from their trapeze, They hang by their tails instead of their knees; Zebras and camels were there with the gnu; I wished they were mine, that day at the zoo. Peanuts, and popcorn and ice cream, too, Were up for sale that day at the zoo, The laughing hyena was fine and ooh! We had a good time that day at the zoo. As I was walking down the path, There came to meet me a great giraffe, I ran back to daddy and Mr. McGrew, Yes, that ' s what I did that day at the zoo. The tigers and leopards and panthers so black, Were there, you can bet, but away at the back, The lions were sitting so fierce and so true, Oh! they were pretty that day at the zoo. But when we turned from the zoo you can bet, I wished I had every beast there for a pet, And then I thanked daddy and Mr. McGrew, Cause I had a good time, that day at the zoo. By Jimmie Koford. Third Humorous Prize A HAPPY DREAM One night last week I went to bed As sleepy as could be, But the sense of something left undone Annoyed and troubled me. I dreamed that I was back in school The brightest in my class, For whatever test the teacher gave Was easy for me to pass. She told me it was wonderful To do as I had done, And she promised me a whole report With every mark a one. Next morning I went off to school From all my worries free, A victim of a happy dream Which heralded tragedy. In my first class the hardest question Fell to my poor lot, ' Twas then that I remembered That to study— I ' d forgot! Billie Carlin H-9. A CONDUCTOR Conductors vary in height, width, manner, complexion and the company that they work for. This particular conductor that I am about to describe is very, very, short, but what he lacks in height he makes up several times in width. Yes, sir! He weighs three times as much as any man four times his height. You have to watch out because a button is liable to snap off his coat or vest and hit you in the eye. He never allows any other fat person on the car, for fear the two together would fall through, some people say, but the real reason is that no- body of any extraordinary circumference can pass by him into the car. Fatness isn ' t, however, his only trait. He has a nose, whose perimeter is enormous, and the altitude is about one third of its perimeter. It is red and shiny, so shiny that a man who was inclined to be a little hard of seeing , asked why they had the electric light on in the middle of the day. His eyes are little and squinty, perhaps having been dimmed by his glaring nose, so you see there are two reasons for his not being able to see to lace his shoes. His ears are also little and he has developed the art of wiggling them at will, with which he amazes the small boys who get on the car. He also can wiggle his scalp, and that has helped him to tip his hat to his lady friends when his arms are full of packages. His voice behaves much as if it hadn ' t changed, as he says, Step right this way, ladies. All aboard, and with a ding, ding, he is off to another station. James Koford L-8.
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Page 21 text:
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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.
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Page 23 text:
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DO YOU REMEMBER? THE RIVER Recess at Oxford ? What scandals, what disclosures! We gambled! A mysterious box with minute, countless holes! Could it contain a potato bug ? A mouse ? A fero- cious snail? Ah, no! Nothing so guileless! It was a wicked pin-box! A pin-box, where the evil-doer might obtain paper-dolls, second- (or third-) hand valentines or other such immoral things. What is that child hopping around for? She should be taken to a veterinary-a-er-a- well, you fathom my meaning! Oh, it is just a game of Hopscotch! Sweet childhood! Such innocent (!!!!) pleasures! Yodellings float upon the atmosphere, sweet or otherwise. Go in-n-n-n-n a-a-n-d out th ' winda-a-a! Go in-n an-n-n-d- out th ' windah-h-h! Go in and ou-u-u-t th ' win- dow! As we-e-e-e-e-e-e have done be-e- fore! and that sentimental (page the cen- sor!) phrase — I kne-e-e-1 becuz-z-z I love you-u-u, but let them rave on, we know how soon disillusion cometh! Do Ed. Rivett and Dick Talbot perchance recall the story and poem still to be seen in the fast-fading and dog-earred Carrier Pigeon for 1920 ? Who can tell how many pencils were consumed over the notable one composed by the hale and hearty volley ball captain ? Columbus said, ' The world is round, ' etcetera! Ah! the magical name of Santa Claus! Stockings hung up at the ' chimbley ' with care! And also, you of Oxford, do you not recall the perfectly scrumptuous and thrill- ing way we celebrated Christmas ? How on light fantastic toe we danced hand-in- hand around the Christmas tree ? Boys not excluded. But all remark together: As childhood ' s links we sever Them days is gone fer-rever! Katharine Rogers H-9. THE RISING SUN When birds have just begun to peep, And all the world is still asleep, It seems that I ' m the only one, To watch the rising of the sun. The glittering dew drops on the ground, The sparkling foliage all around And spider webs of pure silk spun Reflect like gems, the rising sun. The clear bright sky of turquoise blue, The fluffy clouds, a rosy hue; They float away as if to shun The dazzle of the rising sun. Then, in a glorious, golden burst The sun, a ball of fire, at first, Shines forth, as if the day were won, 0 hail the victory of the sun! 1 wonder just how much it ' s worth To see the sun adorn the earth ? Oh what a picture! There is none So gorgeous as the rising sun. Doris Wilson, L-8. Down by the golden rimmed river That flows into the treacherous sea, Is a spot where my heart lies forever, And ' tis there that I long to be. There, where the birds wai ' ble sweetly, There where the flowers do grow, There my sweetheart will find me, Where that sunshiny river doth flow. The river, itself, rushes onward, Into a deep, blue sea; But it never once stops to think, that ' Tis there that I long to be. My love was a fairy-eyed person, Her tresses were golden and long, As T think of the days that are over, i remember the river ' s sweet song. Dorothy Mollin L-8. MOODS I can ' t begin to tell all about moods and what causes them. I don ' t know if the mooas are caused by the beating of your iieart or the pressure of your blood. I know one thing about moods and that is that the scenery around you certainly can make you change your mood. At different places you feel differently. That is, your moods change to different varieties. I think that in one day a person can have fifty-seven different varieties of moods. I, speaking for myself, go through fifty- seven varieties of moods, while attending school. In the morning, coming to school I feel that life is worth living. That is, of course, I am only in that mood when my algebra is finished and my English is done. The next mood period seems to come at the beginning of the second period. I feel so glum now that if anybody hinted that he felt like committing suicide, I would say, I ' m with you. The mood that I just mentioned, I call my algebra mood. The next great mood comes when the fifth period begins to dawn. If I am to receive a great examination paper, my heart begins to pound like a sledge- hammer, and my thoughts are glued to the examination papers. During the migration to Latin, my thoughts are in a happier mood, because, like Ichabod Crane, I get my Latin lessons by hook or crook. The dawn of a new era is coming. By that I mean the lunch period is in sight. I can ' t seem to find enough adjectives to de- scribe the mood I am in. I feel as if life is one grand and glorious feeling. I ' m not so grouchy and not so slow. By the time school has ended for the day I feel as if I had digested all of Heinz ' s varieties o f moods. Josephine Accamazzo.
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