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

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MY KETTLE MUSICIAN THE CITY A storm was raging out of doors; I sat alone in fear. The threatening roar of thunder Was all that I could hear. Then breaking through the madness This winter night was in, I heard the silvery music Of a tiny violin. The music was like magic, Of soft and sweet romance, It gripped me with a longing- It held me in a trance. I searched the corner of the room From whence the music came, And unexpectedly I found. My search was not in vain. For there he was, that fiddler, Half hidden by the steam, As he stood upon the kettle spout And played his fairy dream. I know now I was dreaming But I love to think it true, To think he ventured from the spout. To play ' cause I was blue. Margaret Neilson, H-9. EASTER Many, many years ago, When Jesus died for all, And rose again on Easter morn To save us from the fall, Mary came unto the grave With perfume and lilies fair, And saw the stone was rolled away. But found her Lord not there. Two angels clad in shining white. Said to Mary, List, we pray. The one ye seek is risen. He lives again today. And so each Easter morning, Among the lilies white. We sing our praises to the Lord With glad hearts and faces bright, Margaret Christensen, H-9-B. LIMERICK I. A limerick I now have to write. They told me to do it last night, But a very bad daughter Knocked over the water, And the paper now is a sight. II. The paper is still pretty rough, But because the job ' s pretty tough, I hope you ' ll forget. That the paper got wet, And say that I ' ve done well enough. Forbes Laflin. There was a young fellow named Leary, Who worked very hard and was weary, Tho ' he is much leaner. We ' ll sure have some Gleaner, And his work with much aid was made cheery. Dorothy Lee. I hate the noisy city. Its smoke, and dust, and grime. I hate its mighty buildings, And all its awful crime. All night long, the baby That lives across the street, Is crying for its bottle. Such noise is not a treat. I yearn for lovely mountains. Which I will never get, As long as I ' m in cities. So I must just forget. Paul Maslin, Jr., H-9-K. PUNCTUATION A funny little man said this to me: I fell in a snow-drift in June said he I went to a ball game out in the sea I saw a jelly-fish float up in a tree I found some gum in a cup of tea I stirred my milk with a big brass key I opened my door on my bended knee I beg your pardon for this said he But ' tis true when told as it ought to be ' Tis a puzzle in punctuation you see. Submitted by Mary Crittenden, L-9-B. THE CROSS WORD FAN A pencil and a dictionary, Bring them here to me. And also bring that newspaper For cross word puzzle glee. First you try for one across. Or maybe you ' ll try two. And then you try the downward way. Just as you like to do. Then you keep on trying. Till you get all that you can, And then I guess you leave it For some other cross word fan. Matilda MacCaughey, H-8-7. POEMS A poem was the assignment. In our class the other night, And we brought them into English, But, Oh Dear! What a sight. If you would call us poets, Then what would Hawthorne be ? He ' d sure be called a genius. As far as I can see. Some poems were of flowers. And others of the sea, But none were so unpoetical, As the one made up by me. Selma White, H-9. There was a young person of Reading, Who was hailed into court when caught speeding, Said the judge, No more talk! For the present you ' ll walk. Ham and eggs are the gas you ' ll be needing. Once there was a very bright class But they talked out loud, alas. And when teacher was away They always would play And not one of them ever did pass. Rosalie Ryan, H-7.

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THE OFFICE Oh, our principal has a fine office, On the walls there are photographs rare, The statues and rugs are most lovely. Like a mirror is each shining chair. Oh, I often peeped into the office. As down through the hallways I went, And I love to look into the office — But, Gosh, how I hate to be SENT. Scared Tommy. THE TALISMAN There lived in a small village near the Alhambra in Spain, a poor ribbon weaver. Like all the other people of that region he believed in the marvelous tales about the enchanted rooms and the hidden treasures of the Alhambra, which were bound under a magic spell. Everybody seemed to dream of finding a treasure which would enable him to live the rest of his days in luxury; in fact, the feel- ing of mystery and enchantment seemed to be in the very atmosphere. One night, as our ribbon weaver wandered along the banks of the Darrow river, he found a figure of a knight on horseback with his lance. There were several Arabic inscriptions on it, which he could not read. On the next day he took this to a Moorish merchant and asked him to read it. After much pondering and studying the merchant said he would not tell unless he was given half interest in it. The ribbon weaver was very angry at this but at last agreed to the bargain when he realized that unless he did he would not have the treasure at all. About a week later at ten o ' clock they started to follow the directions of the talis- man. They soon got to the right place, and what a lonely place it was, and how the wind moaned through the trees, and how the chills crept up and down their spines! The next direction was to listen for the meow of a cat. They listened for a few minutes which seemed like hours to them. Soon, low and far away, they heard a faint meow of a cat, then all was still. Then it came again, and again, and again, louder and closer, louder and closer, until it seem- ed right under them. The next order was to watch the cat closely and where it touched the wall they were to strike with the talisman and that would open the door to the passage leading to the treasure room. As soon as the cat had gone they did this and behold the door did open. They lit a taper and went into the passage. Oh! how dark it was and how the taper flickered and sputtered! After traveling what seemed to them a long time they came to the treasure room which contained many earthern jars which were very heavy, so heavy that they could only carry two of them home. The people of the town were very much surprised when they found that these men had grown so rich. However, the secret was never let-out until the ribbon weaver lay on his death-bed. He told the story to his son. The Moor, however, had gone back to his native home in Algiers. Philip Devin, L-9. EVENING The sun sinks slowly in the west, The birds have taken time to rest. Their wings they fold, as clouds of gold Float slowly past their nests. The moon comes up o ' er waters blue. Then lovers stroll around and coo. The sandman comes to close small eyes. Evening comes and twilight dies. Irene Hebard, L-8-W. APOLLO He rises early in the morn, Up from the glowing east. And over the waving fields of corn He drives his laboring beasts. He never rests from morn till night. Except on dismal days. And then we know the beauty Of his ever searching rays. Jack Pahl. THE EDUCATION OF JERRY (Conclusion of Continued Story) Jerry Roberts felt the hot blood rushing to his cheeks. You had better let me go or there will be war, he said indignantly. But his kidnapper merely quietly explain- ed, Jerry, my son, I believe in learning by doing. You are a student in machinery and engineering. You may supervise my boat and this experience will be more valuable than many more hours spent in the class- room. Jerry could not help being sorry for this lonely old man, and besides he rather be- lieved the man. So knowing that resistance would be useless he submitted. After a few hours, a fog came up, one of those cold, thick, beastly fogs that Jerry had never known on his ranch out at Oro- ville. The ship became practically lost in the fog with an unexperienced steersman at the helm. Quick, Jerry, look at the light-house. Two short flashes and a long. That means we must pass on the other side of the Is- land. No, sir, Jerry was now cool and confident. I ' ve tramped all over this island and I ' ve never been confused yet, even if I don ' t know how to manage this ship. I am navigating this ship now, and we are going on this side of the light house. You fanatic! You cocky young sapling! I ' m not going on the rocks just for your fool notions. SIR, I AM IN CHARGE! If you die so do I. Go downstairs and keep still. Ten minutes elapsed and indeed they were the longest minutes that young Jerry ever endured. But he was right, for no crash came, and Jerry was acquitted. Quick! Back to San Francisco! We must get the government after the crooks who are planning to wreck the steamer with the Prince of Wales on board. The time made by that little boat rivals anything yet seen. The officials were in- formed and the plotters foiled. Jerry was a hero! And when he returned to his engin- eering class he found that his kidnapper was his professor who had been trying to get information as to Jerry ' s mettle.

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GARFIELD BAND — SPRING TERM, 1925 Glen Haydon, Dii-ector Bb Clarinets — Roderick Matheson, Crawford Carter, Harold Solomon, Donald Scott, Herbert Bradley, Albert Horn, Stuart Barnett. Db Piccolo — Clyde MacDonald. C Saxaphone — Alfred Stephens. Cornets — John Eltchinoff, Dale Sandifur, George Sense, Roy Sense, William Hampton, Howard Park, Richmond Wilson, Donald Johnstone. Mellophones — Harold Andree, Isadore Gould, Nicholas Starry, Robert Kleinhammer. Baritones — Harold Pearson, Lawrence Colson, Walter Reed. Trombones — James Luce, Philip Devin, Nelson Hall. Basses — John Luthin, John Calvert. Drums — Sanford Bergei-, Bush Stone, James Smith. 4 GARFIELD ORCHESTRA Glen Haydon, Director First Violins — Lucile Taylor, Harold Storm, Evelyn Combs, Mildred Grimm, George Eltchin- off Ernest Benning, Herbert Thelen, Norma Ellis, Marian Matta. Second Violins — Stanley Marquis, Nils Lofquist, Edward Donahue, Mary Case, Lucile Grim- sley, Henry Albrect, Anatole Ossipoft , Janet Rowley, Philip Davis, Francis Tapper. Viola — Hamilton MacCaughey. ' Cellos — Carroll Porter, John McCarthey, Edmund fhelen, Elhott Dennett. Basses — Ethel Jenkins, Doris Baird. Flute — James McCarthy. , . -n ii Clarinets — Roderick Matheson, Donald Scott, Herbert Bradley. Cornets — John Eltchinoff, Dale Sandifur, George Sense. Mellophones — Harold Andree, Isadore Gould. Trombone — James Luce. Baritone — Harold Pe.irson. Drum — Sanford Berger. Piano — Maxine Swift, Mary Powei ' s.