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

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JUST A BOAT RIDE We had started on our boat ride. Perhaps not the kind of boat ride you expected, but a boat ride, nevertheless. The giant air ferry amphibian, Standard Oil owned plane, carried us soaring ever higher over beautiful San Francisco Bay. We were up for a half-hour ride with nobody to interrupt us. How could they, anyway, when we were at a height of five thousand feet above the bay? As we roared our way through the cloudless skies I looked below. Everything seemed so small, houses were toys, men were ants, cars reminded me of sow-bugs, while ships were toothpicks. The wide, broad streets of San Francisco made me think of threads among mounds of dirt, while the great San Francisco Bay reminded me of a dot of water ori a relief map. I looked ahead and watched the pilot. It seemed to me there were hundreds of instru- ments. While we were sa iling through the air, twenty minutes were up. The plane nosed toward Alameda field. The pilot cut the motor. We seemed to zoom down like a bird of prey upon its unsuspecting victim. Then we landed. That was the end of my first boat ride. Wallace Macfarlane), High Seventh. MY GRANDMOTHER A gentle, sweet, unselfish lady, Blessed with love ' s most perfect grace, Who in spite of tears and sorrow, Keeps a cheery, kindly face. Finding peace in love ' s content, With her fascinating ways, Tells us oft amusing stories Of her quaint old-fashioned days. Always is a charming figure, By the cheery fireside, In her dress of pale soft lilac, Trimmed with lace, and ribbon-tied. Cara Sawyer, High Eighth. Through the shadows softly sifting, Hiding from the moonbeams drifting, Where the gentle dew is falling, Where the drowsy birds are calling, Where the flowers their petals fold, Neath the oak tree, bent and old, Breathless, can ' t you hear the beating, As of fairy footsteps fleeting? Pausing now, it loiters, lingers, Touching with its unseen fingers Walnut creams and dark molasses. Softly, up the vale it passes.

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THE WINNING TOUCHDOWN The right was his To take the ball With all he had Through that human wall. He gripped his hands, The game was at stake For his Alma Mater And everything to make. The ball was shot He gave a sign The tacklers missed He cleared the line. He staggered on Half-trot half-run He crossed the goal The game was won. Dick Hemp, High Seventh. RAIN I stood at the crest of a hill one day, Just at the sunset hour, And watched the clouds go drifting by, Each holding a crystal shower. As night came on the clouds grew gray, And on my window pane, I heard a soft sharp tapping sound, The clouds were scattering rain. The lightning flashed, and streaked the sky The thunder roared the whole night long, The wind whistled and howled and shrieked, ' Till a calm came after the storm. With morning came a wondrous change, All nature seemed to beam, What had been dead the day before, Was now a sparkling green. The birds were singing in the trees, And butterflies danced on the flowers, All the world sent its praises to Heaven, For God who sent the showers. Eileen Hopps.

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SIR ARTHUR DE MAYES I Once long ago in the medieval days There was a poor knight named Sir Arthur de Mayes. That cowardly man was as thin as a rail; He felt like a flea in his dull coat of mail. II He ' d vision himself on the fastest of steeds, Riding at war, doing brave daring deeds. He pictured himself in an armour of mesh That fitted him snugly as skin fits the flesh. Ill He dreamed of a figure so hearty and hale, Graceful and shapely, and strong as a gale, A cruel face with a thick curly beard; A nature so fierce that he ' d always be feared. IV Just then from outside a surly voice said, You open your door or you will soon be dead. Just open that door, and step on the gas. And Arthur, on hearing, turned greener than grass. V My soul! cried poor Arthur, Oh what shall I do? I wish I was tiny — I ' d hide in my shoe, I must quickly do something to save my poor head. So knightly de Mayes disappeared ' neath the bed. VI The poor man did tremble; so hard did he quake That the large bed above him did vi ' lently shake. And when he did hear heavy blows on the door, His false teeth did chatter, and fell on the floor. VII Oh, dear, sighed Sir Arthur, that was a new set. And when voices outside cried, de Mayes we shall get, The bed that was shaking, now danced a jig; And Arthur so trembled, he shook off his wig. VIII Just at that moment down thundered the door, And through that torn opening, knights seemed to pour. Look, said one Gray Beard, Look at that hair And look at the teeth scattered under the chair. IX What, said the knights, can have happened in here? I say, said the Gray Beard, that spirits are near. Look at that bed o ' er there, shaking with might And I see not a person around here, in sight.