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

Page 19 text:

TJje Golden Season Slimmer has gone and Autumn ' s begun And the leaves are dancing and having great fun. With their beautiful colors of orange and broivn They brighten the air as they frolic down. Where are the flowers that recently stood On the hill, by the brook in the wood? And where are the birds that filled the trees And the butterflies and the bumble bees} Golden Autumn has taken these things To guard them and keep them under her wings ' Till spring comes round to call them again To brighten this world of sorrow and pain. Sheila Chandler, High Eight. ' Pines Lullaby The ivhispering lullaby of the pine, On the banks of a sdv ' ry lake. With moonbeams glinting in crystal line, A soothing sleep-song make. As the clear, sweet notes of the bugle die From the crest of a tow ' ring hill, The echo resounds with an eerie cry From lake and pine and rill. From out the silence the ripples sing As clear and sweet as ivine. Their lovely song so soft and loiu. The lullaby of the Fine. Betty Lou Howard, Loiv Nine. Autumn s Lullaby Flarkl ' Tis the mystic call of the wind I hear. The weird howl; the deep-draivn sigh. The gold and crimson leaves appear Against the ever-changing sky. All growing things are noiv at rest. The grapes hang low; the geese fly high. Each seed is deep in its earthy nest. The autumn wind is its lullaby. Constance Robinson, High Seven.

Page 18 text:

Battleships As I was sitting on tloe Joill, I Joappeued to see one day, A fleet of d eat to- gray battlestoips Afloat n pou tloe bay. T ' was evening time, and as I ivatcJoed TJoe Sun dropped sloicly doiun, Ke fleeting from ttoe dreadnoughts ' sides To San Francisco Town. Hoiu peaceful, yet Ijow terrible Tloese steel sea monsters seemed. Lazily tloe smotie porired out, yet Deadly guns from turrets gleamed. War ' s grim actions ttoey portrayed — Destruction, waste, and flglot. Tloen darlz.ness, litie a curtain fell. And blotted all from sigJot. Bill Grannell. THE SHOT Slowly, sedately, with her blond head erect she walked down between the lines of grim guards and took her place. As to any person about to drown or die, little incidents of her life came to her mind all in a rush and jumble. How her mother, dear soul, had tied up her sleeper sleeves to prevent her thumb sucking. The awful feeling of first putting her foot on the principal ' s threshold only to be complimented on her good behavior. Then the unforgiveable and unforgetable day when — A crisp voice barked out two crisp words, Ready — Shoot! It was all over! She had rung the basket and won for dear old Gar- field. Fog TJoe fog drifts silently in Over tloe ivater in long streamers. It lies in a luloite banli above tloe town. Only tall towers and spires of clour does Stand clear of it. If fills tloe canyons and Joangs wtoite wreatJos About tloe hill tops. Gordon Harding Low Seven.

Page 20 text:

Berkeley Berkeley — At night — Darkness — A thick ivhite blanket of fog covers the city and muffles the fog horns IV hi n in g call. Quick staccato footsteps echo holloivly along the sideivalk and fade away. Breathless silence — The deep tolling of midnight by the Campanile chimes. Silence — Night in Berkeley. Berkeley — By day — Sunlight — The fog lifts slowly as if it tvere loathe to give up its resting place. Thin streams of smoke rise from chimneys like burnt offerings to the sun god. The clang of a bell — The honking of several automobile horns — And thjis the day is begun. Croivds — Hurrying to work, shop, and school. Cars, in a steady stream, shuttle back and forth. Rush — Ruslo— Day in Berkeley. Glen Jewett, High Nine. AM I AN AMERICAN? I am an American. I was born in Berkeley, California. My father and mother were born in Japan. Sometimes when I go to Japanese School, my teacher tells us a story about Japan and what the country is like. He makes the story so interest- ing that we all go home and ask our mothers and fathers to tell us a story about Japan. My mother told me that when she was in Japan, she used to go to school in the winter with her brother in snow about one foot deep. But in the spring it is very beautiful, with the cherry blossoms in full bloom. In Japan they have different classes of people, the lower class, middle class, high class, and the noble class. My mother ' s and father ' s class was a little higher than the middle class. Although my mother did not go to college, my father -did and won some honors for rowing, running, and other athletic games. In my mother ' s and my father ' s house there are a servant girl and a little boy about ten or eleven years old to bring messages and go on errands because their home is in the country. Mary Hayashida, Low Eight.