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

 - Class of 1935

Page 22 of 72

 

Garfield Junior High School - Gleaner Yearbook (Berkeley, CA) online collection, 1935 Edition, Page 22 of 72
Page 22 of 72



Garfield Junior High School - Gleaner Yearbook (Berkeley, CA) online collection, 1935 Edition, Page 21
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from behind him. ' Oh-h-hl my little- Percy Archibald, my darling little kitten! Turning around, he discovered a white haired old lady coming toward him with her arms outstretched. Horrors, and she looked like a loyal American citizen! Then something terrible happened. She picked him up. As she held him in her arms, he gave a feeble communistic Meow and then, for the first time in his cat life, he thought a patriotic thought. His inards did seem in need of some food. And he was rather tired of being a communistic cat. Nothing ever happened. It wouldn ' t hurt any- thing if he pretended to be this lady ' s long-lost Percy Archibald. As his thoughts were thus busily occupied, he scarcely noticed that he was being carried back into that same, beautiful garden from which he had just come. As they went up the lawn toward a large, pretentious house, the old lady put him down before a green lawn chair saying, You remember little Fluffykins, don ' t you? I got her the day before you got lost. You had better get acquainted again. As Tommy shyly peeked at the little, grey figure in the lawn chair, he was humming, My Country ' Tis of Thee. Marilyn Cox, High Eight. A MISHAP IN SPACE By the year 2000, Eureka, the first settlement of earth people on Mars, had been successfully established, and plans for a second settlement had been started. Aero Nautic, engineer aboard the space-ship ] I-E 44, leaned back comfortably in a cushioned chair in his cabin. He started to pick up a book from the end table beside his chair when a loud knock sounded on the door. You there. Aero? asked an excited voice. Oh, come in, Gene, Aero called, as he recognized his friend ' s voice. The door opened, and a Frenchman entered. What ' s the matter? Aero questioned. We ' re half-way there! exclaimed Gene Rator. Why, that ' s a record! exclaimed Aero. We ' ll He did not finish his sentence, but crashed headlong into the opposite wall of his cabin. What happened? We ' re going backwards! exclaimed Gene. Captain Speed entered. Dang it! I knew that Martian, Dy Xamic, wouldn ' t do us any good! We just caught him as he threw a wrench into the cosmo-electric generator! roared Captain Speed. Then we ' re heading towards the sun? asked Aero hurriedly, still half stunned. Why! We ' ll roast before we can fix it! cried Gene. Yes, and Dy Xamic is laughing his head off. Aero, take command; you know the engines, and Captain Speed sat down. Quick, turn the force-ray on behind us before the ship picks up momentum! Lock Dy Namic in a cell and take me to the generator! quickly ordered Aero, recovering from the sudden shock. Six hours later the generator was completely repaired just as an officer reported the outer hull was red hot and ready to fall apart and the

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him ' he mused, but somehow without enthusiasm. He tried to convince himself he was glad to see Phil ousted, but he wasn ' t and he knew it. I bet Phil feels pretty bad, Billy thought, and when all the guys know this, I ' ll be in for some kidding, too, because after all I am his stooge, an ' Then he marched into his sister Connie ' s room. He found her approv- ingly smiling at her pink-pajamed reflection in the mirror as she recalled her progress with the popular Phil Kirk. Hi, sis, do me a favor. That old, mental flatfoot, Marge Evans, has turned down Phil ' s bid to the H. H. dance and he feels bad, an ' , an ' — I thought, seein ' you ' re a friend of hers, you ' d fix it up an ' Say, what ' s wrong; you look white, like you saw Karloff ' s ghost er sumpin ' ! Oh, nothing ' s wrong. I ' ll help you. Run along. That guy ' s just arsenic to me, but and out went Billy. Well, murmured Connie, I guess that ends that affair. Oh, well, life is just a bowl of cherry pits. At school next morning, Billy was reading a note asking him to report for football practice, on recommendation of Captain Kirk, when he looked up and saw Phil. He felt suddenly shy and could onlv mutter Thanks. Aw, every team needs a dumb guy who can take it, grinned Phil. Say, Billy blustered, I ' ve fixed your love affair for you, and he told his story. Why, you simpleton, jeered Phil. Marge didn ' t get a chance to turn me down. I ' ve been trying to get nerve enough to ask Connie. I ' ll go ask her now. Come along, ya ' stooge, ' his voice sounded warm and even affectionate. Billy, proudly following him, thought, Gee, life is swell! Sylvia Berry, High Nine. TOMMY, THE COMMUNISTIC CAT Tommy was a decided Communist. He had been one all his life. He did not believe in big executives. Oh, no! He didn ' t think that people ought to wear expensive clothes or drive around in beautiful motor cars. Today he looked rather thin; his blue-black coat had lost its shine, and, in general, he was a rather shabby specimen of a cat. As he walked along the sidewalk, he thought of the silly, little Persian cats basking in the sun with plenty of food in their tummies; while he. Tommy, the great Communist, was walking the streets in search of any morsel of food he could find in the gutter. Yes, everything would be changed when he started the Communistic revolt. With this thought in his mind, Tommy strolled into a beautiful gar- den filled with blooming flowers. An American patriot probably lived amidst all this finery. He turned in disgust to go out of the yard when his eye caught sight of a pretty, little, grey Angora cat sitting on a cushion in a green, lawn chair with a silky looking blue ribbon around her neck. A typical, uncommunistic cat. Walking out on the sidewalk again, he was startled by a shrill shriek



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passengers were complaining of the intense heat, even though the ship ' s refrigeration was on. Hook it up, ordered Aero. Would it work? The question flashed through every mind on board. Or was it too late? The ship stopped. It started forward very slowly. Burst after burst of rockets came from the ship. Slowly, it picked up momentum and, finally, shot forward to reach cooler space. Several days later, they sighted Eureka, Mars. As they landed, Gene jokingly said to Aero, ' T thought this was going to be a record trip? It wasn ' t a record trip, but I made record time fixing that generator, replied Aero. Terry Jeeves, Low Seven. THE SEA The water was as calm and even as a highly polished sword. The sun on the water was a lane of sparkling gold disappearing over the horizon. The sky was a pale blue without depth; the stillness of the air threatened an unknown danger. But what danger could there be in such a death-like place? Then came darkness. Little wavelets, -gently blown before the increas- ing wind, lapped against the becalmed craft. The ship ' s wings, spread toward the black heavens, made a cup to catch the fleeting breeze. Out of the distance rushed the wind, like a dog freed of the chain. It tore its way through the bloated sail and left it in ribbons, as lightning to a towering tree. Gigantic mountains hurled themselves at the walls of the ship. Slowly the frail craft fought its way to the crest of the sea, then plunged down into the boiling mass that showered white foam over its deck-gear. As if in one last effort, the sea crashed its way through the splintered armor and poured into the vitals of the beaten vessel, gurgling into every compartment, smothering every mouth, then dragged all to the rocks below. Morning came. Into the sky climbed the sun. There were pink clouds all around it. Golden beams played on the water below. Yes — how peaceful it looked! What a difference in the scene that had taken place but a few hours before! Yet all that was left was a splintered piece of bobbing wood here and there. Hinsdale Latour, High Nine. MY DOG He was black all over, with only one small white spot on his leg. I called him Blackie. He was a bird dog. My father and I used to take him hunting with us all the time. I had great fun with him for about six years. When he died, I didn ' t know exactly what to do with myself and I didn ' t get over the loss for a long time. I have never had another dog. Bob Aldea, High Nine.

Suggestions in the Garfield Junior High School - Gleaner Yearbook (Berkeley, CA) collection:

Garfield Junior High School - Gleaner Yearbook (Berkeley, CA) online collection, 1932 Edition, Page 1

1932

Garfield Junior High School - Gleaner Yearbook (Berkeley, CA) online collection, 1933 Edition, Page 1

1933

Garfield Junior High School - Gleaner Yearbook (Berkeley, CA) online collection, 1934 Edition, Page 1

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Garfield Junior High School - Gleaner Yearbook (Berkeley, CA) online collection, 1936 Edition, Page 1

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Garfield Junior High School - Gleaner Yearbook (Berkeley, CA) online collection, 1937 Edition, Page 1

1937

Garfield Junior High School - Gleaner Yearbook (Berkeley, CA) online collection, 1938 Edition, Page 1

1938


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