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

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But he ' d call the police, urged Jack. Not him, comforted Jim, he ' s scared of them, too. Dick had to be satisfied, so the boys part- ed with the intention of meeting again that night. That night, with the aid of a skeleton key, they opened the rustic, old-fashioned lock, and entered. They could hear the old man snoring loudly, so loudly, in fact, that he quite drowned out their mouse-like foot- steps. They entered the sleeping man ' s room, and, to their amazement, instead of finding piles of old fashioned coins as they had ex- pected, they found old newspapers, dating away back somewhere in 1925, about thirty years ago. Dictionaries of all descriptions decorated the room. What ' s the meaning of this? blurted out Jim. For once his intelligence was baffled. But Dick had picked up a paper and was examining it closely. Jim did likewise. In a moment both boys ' pencils were out. They were puzzles, with, fortunately, the direc- tions for solving them written on them. A few hours passed, and the next thing the boys knew, Mr. Spette himself was look- ing at them and laughing. So you thought you ' d fool me, did you? asked old Spette, good naturedly. Now look at you, ha, ha! What are these puzzles? queried Dick. We used to call them cross-word puzzles in my day, the old man replied. They used to be quite a fad. The boys liked the puzzles so much, that they spread the fun among their friends, and soon every newspaper was filled with them. One day, as Dick and Jim sat solving puzzles Dick said, We thought we ' d fool him, but we didn ' t succeed, did we? No, replied the other from the depths of a dictionary, we ' ve got to admit the joke ' s on us. Margaret Thunen, L-9-G. STARS The stars twinkled down from the darkened heights. Bright golden dots in the blue. And the moon shone forth, an unequalled light, So pale, yet so beautiful, too. The little stars skipped, the little stars played. And capered with daintiest tread. While they ran ' long the path of the Milky Way, And frisked o ' er its silvery bed. The court of the air was gathered there. Lovely queen Luna in gorgeous robes. For the sovereigns and courtiers, were giv- ing a ball , And carried their luminous globes. They danced, they danced, ' til the morning came. And hastened them all away. And Old Sol broke into happy smiles. And then ' twas bright break of day. Phyllis Preston, H-8-.S BOBBIE ' S POEM I gotta write a poem and you bet it ' s awful hard. But Mrs. Gray says Write it, and of t ourse no one is barred. I have no inspiration, so my thoughts I ' ll just unite, And tell you how my dog was, a week ago last night. He was just like always then, but I hadda make it rhyme. So now I will begin to tell about those birds of mine. They ' re yellow and brown canaries, and now they ' re making a nest. But they ' re just like other canary birds so I needn ' t tell the rest. And then, I have some fishes, they ' re gold and black and grey. And they ' ll reflect the sunshine, if it ' s a sunny day. I also have a cat, some chickens and some snails. They ' re just like other animals so this is the end of their tales. James Koford, H-8-S. AN OLD INDIAN LEGEND In the Nevada Desert, there is a spot the size of about one acre, and in this acre is a cemetery used for Indians who had lost their lives in battle. A little distance away there stands a queer shaped stone, on which are many carvings. I will try to relate as clearly as possible the legend which this concerns. In the early eighties, there dwelt a tribe of Indians on one side of the desert, and on the other side of the desert there lived an enemy tribe. It finally came to pass that the braves in one tribe started on the war path. As a coincidence, the braves of the other tribe started on the war path at the same time. They met in the middle of the desert, and they dashed like waves of the ocean. After a night of furious battle, one side was re- duced to a mere twenty, but on the other side there remained only one huge chief. He was bleeding from many wounds, and was fast weakening. When he saw such odds, he started to run, beating dov an op- ponent every once in a while, like a pur- sued bear. At last he dropped from loss of blood. When the braves in pursuit came up to him, they realized what a hero he was. They then got their tribe to put up a monu- ment in memory of this hero. This monu- ment took many days of work and if you should pass through that part of the desert you would find that it still stands beside the battlefield. Gerald Neasham. LIBRARY DAY Lace and ribbons are on maidens fair. In gowns of silk and powdered hair. Both Topsy and Eva are on display. Raggedy twms carry the day. Alice in Wonderland with golden curls. Runs with a host of other girls. Young Simon, simple as ever before,

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THE PRACTICAL AGE The practical make-the-most-of-our-now- a-day life is ruled by common sense. The calculating view-point spells for efficiency. One delivers the goods, and masters the situation, so to say. But after all we are not refined machinery. Where are the g ' lamours of medieval chivalry, or the artistic glories of Greece, when men gathered around a master to meditate and discuss abstract phil osophy? Remember the days of Athens when high- minded men secluded themselves in Nature ' s wilderness to compose poetry, and delight themselves with solving of the mysterious tangles of human life ? But sad to say, romance dwells only in fiction now, it seems. The crowd thinks life too practical to bother with empty images. The irrational, carefree Bohemian life of the European are student is the nearest ap- proach to romance, I think. We would say, perhaps, that such a mode of existence is impractical, senseless and over-radical. But look again! How colorful, idealistic and ro- mantic! What a rich life of beauty! To be sure it exists only in their imaginations. But one ' s mind may be more real than the so-called real world. Who knows ? It seems to me that only artists know how to live, to extract the honey out of life. We, the engineers, business men and the rest, are the vulgar herds that run the machinery of the material world for them, unconsciously. They, the musicians, sculptors, painters, or poets revel in a world far above the clouds, tasting fruits of which we can not even form a picture. What do we think of such a rich life ? May it not be that our every-day practical life is but the shell ? If so, then where is the kernel, the real stuff? James Hu. EASTER LILIES As I came into the garden, I was met with a sweet perfume, I looked all around from the sky to the ground, And found Easter lilies in bloom. Oh, beautiful lilies so waxen and white, With your centers so pure and so gold. You look like moonbeams fair and light. From a fairy garden old. If I ' m ever in sorrow or trouble. Then will I think of thee, I will think of the days of my childhood. And how much you meant to me. Virginia Knight. A DESCRIPTION OF A FOOTBALL TEAM OF GRECIAN GODS. The backfield of a football team usually presents its greatest problem, so I will se- lect it first. Jupiter, of course, will be the quarter-back. He is a handy, heavy player, and nothing is impossible for him. For my two half-backs I will take Flying Mercury and Pegasus for obvious reasons. Her- cules, because of his great strength, would be the ideal full-back in this backfield. The kicking would be done by Pegasus. Minerva and Mars will be my two ends. They are light and fast, with lots of fight. For the two tackles I select Diana and Nep- tune. They combine weight and speed, and have an infallible way of finding the holes. Pluto and Orion are the two best men avail- able for guards. Orion would also be good at center, but his weight and speed, coupled with the fierce charges of Pluto, make up an ideal guard combination. Juno, I believe, would make a good center. She is ox-eyed, and probably built like an ox, so that her speed and headwork would surely help in blocking punts, and other things, as Jupiter can well attest. Apollo will be the benchwarmer on this team, and Hebe the water carrier. Hydra and the Sirens, the rooting section, and Tri- ton, the band . The only drawback to this team is that to each one of these gods nothing is impos- sible, so all competition is lost. David Lyon. MR. SPETTE TURNS THE TABLES He was a miser, there was no doubt about that; and a rich miser, there was no doubt about that, either. Why should an old man live all alone in a ramshackle hut if this were not so ? Why should an old man sit up all night, with the light of a single candle making his ghostly shadow huge and omin- ous if he were not guarding his glittering horde ? Jim and Dick, boys at that happy-go-lucky age between fourteen and fifteen, sat con- sidering old man Speete as they called him. He ' s been living there for a long time, said Jim soberly, And it ' s high time we had some fun with him. What do you say to making him this year ' s April Fool ' s victim ? Good idea, Jim, replied Dick, but what could we do with him? Scare him, of course. How? Why, about his gold, of course, silly, said Jim. We ' ll pretend to be burglars, and then show him that we are not.

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Dances as merrily as of yore; All of these characters when in their books lay, Yearn when they leave us, for next Library Day. Margaret Thunen. A MODERN CINDERELLA It rained, and rained, and rained. Streets were damp, cars were damp and gutters were overflowing. This was the beginning of a new year. Down the street where the traffic was scarce was a yellow cab with two occupants; one, an attractive, smartly-dressed young- woman with her escort who, as anyone could see, admired her very much. The cab had stopped near the Oakland mole and Miss Andrews, whom I afterward learned worked for the Mercantile Trust Company, and had been sent on an errand to Los Angeles, stepped out. After Mr. Edwards, her escort, had pur- chased her ticket the train drew up. Miss Andrews removed her rubbers from her feet and gave them to Mr. Edwards to be put into her suitcase which had been left in the vestibule. He hurriedly put the rubbers in the suitcase with his mind on the more interesting occupation at hand — that of telling Miss Andrews goodbye. About eleven o ' clock that night Miss An- drews found herself unpacking her grips in a room at Hotel Rosslyn. She suddenly remembered that she had not found her rub- bers and she was certain that Mr. Edwards had gone into the vestibule with them. In another room at Hotel Hayward, where business men usually stay, a young man whose name was Roy Williams, was also unpacking his grip. He was tall, had light curly hair, and eyes that showed signs of a pleasing personality. He was greatly sur- prised to find, at the top of his suitcase, a pair of lady ' s rubbers which looked as if they had been thrown in at the last minute. He reflected a moment. The name which was in each rubber was quite new to him and he thought that a cute, small person ' s feet would fit into them very nicely. That evening there was a knock on the door and Miss Andrews opened the door to find a neat package on the floor. She took it inside and discovered a card on which was written: Found by MR. R. S. WILLIAMS Traveller ' s Insurance Agency, Hotel Hayward. The phone rang and Roy Williams an- swered. A sweet voice (so he thought) thanked him very much for returning the rubbers and also said that she would like to meet him. These two became very good friends and as time went on their friendship grew. About three months later Mr. Edwards, while glancing at the paper, stopped sudden- ly for this is what he saw: Engagement of Mr. Roy Williams and Miss Ele anor Andrews announced yesterday afternoon. A very interesting romance be- cause of a pair of misplaced rubbers. Marguerite Schweizer, H-9-B. CONFUSION IN THE STELLAR REGIONS I. Orion, in a fit of rage, threw his club across the sky, And cutting through, the starry blue, hit Callisto in the eye. The flow of language as she flew was was certainly a ripper. And as she stumbled round the sky, she tumbled in the dipper. II. The dipper being bottomless, Callisto went on through, But over-flew the Pleiades to see what they could do. The seven sisters caught her just before she hit the ground. And tried to take her home again by soaring all around. III. Now the little bear began to cry ' cause mama wasn ' t home. And loudly called his mother to come back and not to roam. The hunter heard his plaintive call and with his bloodhounds strong. He started out in search of her and brought her back ere long. Fred Stripp. AIR CASTLES When I grow up to be a man, I ' ll travel to far off ' Japan, And see the little Japanee A-sitting there and sipping tea. In far off Egypt by the Nile, Many a happy hour I ' ll while. And visit Tut-ank-amen ' s tomb Where the ancient pyramids loom. To sunny Italy and to Spain. Let ' s hope my dreams are not in vain. There to see most beautiful scenes. All I need is just the means. Jack Quayle, L-8-W. Stuart McKay and Me Kay Stewart Once there lived, in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, two men who loved each other very much; so much in fact, that they de- cided that they would be buried together when they died. They went up to Donner Lake on the shores of which, there are many big granite boulders and there on the hill side they cut a vault in the top of a granite rock. They labored for a long time before the work was finally completed. A month of so after the vault was com- pleted, a beautiful lady came to town and immediately both of the men, whose names were Stuart McKay and McKay Stewart, proceeded to fall in love with her. She married Stuart McKay and therefore the two men became great enemies and instead of being buried together in the grave that they had prepared for themselves, they nev- er saw each other again and were buried far apart in entirely different parts of the country. Every year many people visit the grave which took so much patience and labor to carve out of the living rock and which was never used for the purpose for which it was intended. Stuart Rose, L-9-G. NOTE— This is a true story.