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

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THE LITTLE INDIAN GIRL Tell us a story, grandmother, about when you were young, please, urged the two eight- year-old twins. All right, I ' ll tell you about the little Indian girl we found when we were going west, I was only twelve years old then, but I remember it perfectly. It was very hot and we were crossing a long, flat plain, all the children were running along side of the wagons laughing and playing when suddenly the leaders stopped. Everyone ran forward to find out the trouble. The leaders had found a little Indian girl, who was very weak from hunger. The little Indian girl gave us quite a bit of excitement for a few days. She could only speak a few words of English so we understood very little of what she said. But we kept her because we didn ' t know where to leave her and she was still weak. One night, after a long day ' s ride across the plains, the wagons had formed the usual circle around the big campfire, and most of the tired women and children had retired, and the men were slowly leaving the campfire, one by one. Suddenly a war whoop was heard, then another. It was quickly followed by a volley of arrows. Indians! The men were taken by surprise as they had had no warnings from the Indians at all, and the mountains around were supposedly free from hostile Indians. The men quickly seized their guns and shot blindly at the Indians from behind anything available. The Indians advanced and had soon killed two men and wounded many others. I stood with my mother and my sister among the rest of the trembling women and excited children of the train. We were all terribly excited. I was more excited than afraid as we had never been attacked by Indians before and I didn ' t know the danger. Suddenly, the little Indian girl, who was still weak, ran forward and gave a short cry, quickly followed by a long one. The arrows stopped instantly and the little girl repeated the cries. Two braves came from out of the dark and took the child away with them. The Indians then disappeared. We never saw the little girl again, but we all felt we owed the rest of our safe journey across the plains to her, because we were never attacked by Indians again. Gail Seeburger, High Ninth. SPRING IN JAPAN The purple spring haze is covering the far distant Fujiyama and the mountains which surround her. The cherry trees that line the river and cover the hillside present a glorious spectacle of pink and white. The garden, which surrounds the house, is filled with many kinds of spring flowers. Even the little nameless flowers are stretching their petals and leaves, telling us that Spring is here. The warbling of cheery songsters gives a signal for the full outburst of spring-tide glory. Out in the green fields, there are a number of young maidens picking little yellow dandelions and lotus flowers, to twist them into garlands. Some of them are singing a spring song. Masa Sugiura, Low Ninth.

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THE REALMS OF NEPTUNE Far down in the deep blue sea Father Neptune reigns supreme, In his hand he holds the key To sea, the lake, the stream. Maids and mermen round him swim, Gathering silvery shells with care, Waiting on his every whim, Giving him his daily fare. Flying dolphins ride the foam, Heads flying high, in state of glee; O ' er their watery home they roam, Skipping, leaping, wild and free. Far down in the deep blue sea Father Neptune reigns supreme, In his hand he holds the key To sea, the lake, the stream. Elise de Groot, High Ninth. THE DEER HUNT One evening, when I was visiting a friend ' s house, we told of some of our experiences. This is one that he told: About two years ago, I went on a deer hunt with some friends in the Rocky Mountains. It had snowed the day before. It would be easy to get lost, so we had to keep together. We had hunted for awhile, when I discovered some fresh deer tracks. I didn ' t think the deer was far so I followed them. I was so interested in the tracks that I didn ' t notice how far I was from my friends. When all of a sudden it began to snow. I then noticed how far I was and the snow had covered the tracks going back. Then, I hallooed to se e if I could get response but heard nothing so I realized I was lost. I cut some wet boughs for a bed, and finally started a fire. I didn ' t have any blankets, and it was very cold that night. After a long while, the morning came. I got up and looked around and guess what I saw. Not more than ten feet away behind some bushes, there was my camp, my wood for the fire, my warm bed and my friends still asleep. Preston Bassett, High Seventh. SUMMER TIME The vagrant breezes stir the leaves, The bees are humming near, The flowers bloom among the grass A sign that summer ' s here. The sun sends softly warming rays Down from the cloudless sky, All those on earth are filled with joy And summer ' s praises cry. Lenore Hennessey, High Eighth.

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MY MOTHER A woman, tall and graceful, Beautiful as can be, Helping in every way, And never cross with me. She finds time for all her work, And church and charity, Time to visit all her friends, Or have them in for tea. She seems to always have a smile, Even though she ' s feeling bad, For everyone of us at home, From baby up to Dad. I think she is most wonderful And indeed there is no other Woman on this earth of ours, To me just like my mother. ( Jane De Roy, Hid) Seventh. THE ELK Far out on the meadows a large male elk was bugling a challenge to any other bulls of his kind, who disputed his leadership of the herd. Out came another elk and these two majestic animals lowered their heads and charged. The battle was long and fierce, with hoofs flying and antlers clashing. Finally, however, the leader ' s greater experience began to tell, and at last the other elk had to run. Then the leader turned and with one triumph- ant bugle, to tell the world of his victory, led his band to better feeding grounds. Bertram Scarborough, High Seventh. THE LAND OF KITES I ' d love to live in the land of kites And always see such pretty sights. See kites floating in the air, Floating here, and floating there; Big kites, small kites, middle-sized, too, Red and green and white and blue. The wind would always blow just right To lift up every kind of a kite, And make them fly graceful and high, Way, way up in the sky And late at night, it is said, They take them down and go to bed. Frank Mero, High Seventh.