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Page 20 text:
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The Shadow of the Horse on the Window With a roar and screeching of brakes, a car stopped in front of a group of small cottages. Two men got out of the car and made their way to the manager ' s office, where they applied for a cottage. About a week later they told the manager that they were going away. But they would be back from time to time; so they would like it if the manager would hold the cottage for them and not to let anyone occupy the cottage while they were away. The manager said they must pay the rent for the time that they were away. The men agreed and left. A few days later a family by the name of Johnson came to the manager and asked him if he had a cottage for rent. The manager said that he didn ' t have any cottages left open, but he had a cottage where the people had left but were coming back soon. And that they had paid their rent for the time they were gone. Mrs. Johnson said that she would take the cottage and when the people came they could have the cottage back. The manager saw that he could make some extra money so he said it was all right, that they could move in. The Johnsons were all sitting around the fire when Ernest suddenly exclaimed, Say Mom, have you read this article in the paper about a big bank robbery? It says they stole about one hundred thousand dollars and the police can ' t find them. They discussed the bank robbery until they went to bed. Presently one of the children said, Mother, doesn ' t that shadow on the window look like a horse? They all looked, but thought nothing of it. About a week later in Berkeley, Ernest told them about an automobile accident in the Santa Clara Valley where a car ran off the road into a ditch. The man who was in the car was taken to the nearest hospital where he kept repeating, The shadow of the horse on the window over and over again. The police thought he saw a horse and that that had caused him to run into a ditch to avoid hitting the animal, so it was considered solved. But they thought it wasn ' t solved because they remembered what they saw at Santa Cruz. The next month they went to Santa Cruz and stayed in the same cottage. They were going home the next day, so Mrs. Johnson was cleaning. She saw a rip in the mattress and got her needle to fix it. She put her hand in the mattress to smooth the stuffing and she pulled out about ninty thousand dollars in paper money. She hid the money and telephoned the police. When the Chief of Police came he said, Why Mrs. Johnson, these are the bills that were stolen in that bank robbery, but where are the criminals? I think I can answer that, she said. So she explained: When the bank was robbed, the criminals drove here. They stayed a night and hid the money in the mattress. Thinking that nobody would find it here and that they could come back and get their money whenever they should want it. Then the criminals separated. One went down the Santa Clara Valley and became involved in a serious accident in which he was killed. Before he died he kept repeating The shadow of the horse on the window. This made me suspicious. When we came down here for our vacation I was lucky enough to find the money. And I telephoned you. That is my version of the story. Mrs. Johnson received five thousand dollars for her part in the solving of the mystery and the returning of the money. A year later a man on his death bed confessed of his part in the crime and it was almost exactly the same story as the story Mrs. Johnson told to the Chief of Police nearly a year before. JOHN JORY, High Nine.
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Page 21 text:
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Is Steel Beautiful? Is steel beautiful? YES. Your next question may be, Why? Did you ever see it poured white hot into a ladle that holds ninety tons? As it comes swirling, gushing out of the fiery furnace falling fifteen feet or more, with golden sparks flying everywhere, the hot molten steel looks as if you had just dumped every color in the rainbow on the world. It comes pouring forth with all its might and force. White flames leap from the ladle and rise twenty feet or even higher into smoky air. Stifling heat waves scorch your face. The steel is now poured from the ladle thirty feet into gigantic molds as immense blue flames jump and light the interior of this gigantic structure. These facts may seem a little far fetched, but they are all true. This is why steel is beautiful. ERNEST GOODNER. Song of Christmas Penmanship Sing out you Carolers! Sing out this morn; Sing songs of the eve When Christ was born. Sing songs of love, Sing songs of joy; Sing songs of Mary Who gave this boy. Sing songs of gathering Songs of meeting; Songs of the spirit Of Yuletide greeting. Sing out once more Again of love. Sing out to Him Our Lord above. JIM FARRELL, Low Nine. Some people write as though they enjoyed it, smooth, even and firm. Some people write as though they were bored, slow, jerky and crazy. Some people write conspicuously, large, important and uninteresting. Others write the word of God. Some people write so sadly, on a tearstained page. Some people write in a hurry, fast, sprawled and without punctuation. Some people write like school girls, squared, cramped and cute. Others write as though inspired. MARGIE GARGES, High Eight. One Day One fine day, not too hot, not too cold, We went for a walk. We came upon a well, that was empty, And looked down, and saw nothing. And then, very suddenly, We all turned around, and there he was, A bird, with his wing half broken. We took him up, And then, he seemed very much brighter. And home we went, contented. BERNARD PEPPER, High Nine.
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