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

Page 21 text:

The Stream A stream has many moods, yon tinonj! Times of c oeer, times of woe. To travel wloere the ivaters fioiv, Is my ambition. I must go! At times a stream is happy, bright. Goes o ' er the falls, dancing light. Sometimes through thiclzets, dark as night. It floivs sadly, out of sight. I thinti. the stream ' s a funny tiding. Sometimes it cries, sometimes sings, It maJies your soul ivitJo fervor ring, It plays on your heart. It pulls the strings. Betty Lou Howard, Lokj Nine. A LADY AT HER FIRST FOOTBALL GAME Oh John! What a crowd of people there is here today. It must be an important game! Oh, no dear, this is only some little team they are playing today. Well, now that we ' re in John, let ' s find a good place to sit. Oh, I wish we had gotten loges. Don ' t be silly, dear, you can ' t get loges at a football game. Well, let ' s find a good seat anyway. Oh, here comes the team, John. Hooray for our side! Don ' t yell, dear, that ' s the opposing team. Oh, John, they are beginning to play. Come on Joe! Handle the pigskin. Oh, John, where is the pig? Oh! that man threw the other man down. Of course, of course, silly, he was tackling him to get him down, Well it certainly would get me down if anyone threw me that hard. Anyway, John, he could have gotten farther if he hadn ' t been tackled. Oh, Mabel, won ' t you shu — he quit for just a little while. Dear me, John, you needn ' t act that way about it. No, no, of course not. John, what is the object of this game anyway? Oh, you see, one team tries to get the ball over the other team ' s goal line, and in that way make six points. Then if the man with the ball gets away they all try to tackle him. Oh, I see, John. Well, why don ' t they tackle him? He has the ball. Oh, oh, oh, he ' s the referee, silly. Well, how am I supposed to know that? Oh never mind, Mabel, you ' re hopeless. Let ' s go home. Bill Brock, High Nine.

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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.

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LUCK Lost: a golf scarf-pin with initials R. C. engraved on back. Greatly valued as a keep-sake. If found, return to 30 Shoreway Drive. Mervm Conelly looked first at an object in the palm ot his hand, then at the newspaper, lying before him., and once more his eyes turned to the object. It was a small golf scarf pin, and turning it over he saw again the initials R. C. With this, he said to himself, I ' d be able to buy food for another week, and if I return it maybe all I ' ll Ret is gratitude. And you can ' t l ive on gratitude, he ended bitterly. Then on the other hand there may be a reward, though there was none offered. Still puzzling upon this he went to bed. During the nig-ht he had a curious dre m. He seemed to be going on his wav to return the scarf-pin, and when he reached the house and had given the pin to the fervently thankful owner, he was given a gold mine. Still v andering in the rcsv hued paths of his dream, Nlervin work up, to find himself still in his shabbv room, and the problem of what to do still before him. He lav in bed thmkins- and then with sudden resolve he got up. AVhen he finished dressing, still with a firmness in his step, he walked out of the room and down the street. As he paced along, he reasoned with himself, I ffuess it ' s the m st profitable wav out. and the pawn-shop will give me at lea ' t twentv dollars. Uoon reaching his desti- nation, he saw to his dismav that the shop was closed and empty. Bewild- ered he turned around looking for an explanation, and he was satisfied by a nearby loafer. Yep, he ' s sold out, just plain busted, the man drawled in a lazy monotone, He moved yesterday. Thanks, answered Mervin, and he moved on murmurmg quizzi- cally, Imagine a pawnshop keeper going broke. Then he added, well, I guess the thing for me to do now is to take it down to Shorewa} Drive and receive the owner ' s gratitude, if nothing else. After several miles of hard walking Mervin came to 30 Shorewa} ' Drive, and to his surprise found himself standing in front of a palatial m.ansion. Full of awe he walked up the steps and rang the doorbell. The door was opened by an imposing butler, who, after Mervin had explained his mission, ushered him into the library, where he was joined presently by the ovrner of the scarf-pin. A large, well formed man entered the room and greeted Alervin saying, I am Robert Cimbell, of the Cimbell and Morgan Steel Co., and I understood you to say you had found my pin? Mervin handed over the pin, and after an examination Mr. Cimbell exclaimed, Yes it is! My boy, hov can I ever thank 3 ' ou for finding this? But, there is a reward. Would Sioo be enough? Mervin could only gasp, Oh, but sir, I can ' t accept that!