Havermale Junior High School - Papoose Yearbook (Spokane, WA)

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THE LEGEND OF LAKE CHATCOLET Honorable Mention Twenty years ago Lake Chatcolet wus an Indian reservation inhabited by two hundred or more Indians. The chief of the tribe had a beautiful daughter named Chatcolet. As she grew older, she fell in love with a warrior of the same tribe who loved her in return. Her father was very much opposed to the match,- for he wished her to marry a warrior of his own choice. As time went on, the chief wanted Chatcolet to become settled, so he told her of his wish. IVhen she heard that she must marry against her wishes, she became very sad. One night she crept softly from the camp. When she was out of hearing distance, she broke into a run, and ran until she reached the shores of the lake where her fatheris boats were anchored. Unfastening one of them, she stepped into it and started to paddle. A soft breeze played over the lake, while a beautiful moon cast its light on the waters. Chatcolet followed the path of the moonlight, until she came to a huge rock that projected out into the water. This was called Rocky Point. Here she stepped out of her canoe, and in a few minutes it had drifted away on the tiny wavelets that the breeze had stirred. The rest of this story I will let you imagine for yourselves. I will tell you only that Chatco1et's canoe was later found by her people. In order to find comfort in their grief, they named the lake Chatcolet. -Margaret Robbins. NVHY MOTHERS XVORK Applicant: No, ma'am, I could not work where children are. V Madam: But we advertised for a girl who understands children. Applicant: Oh, I understand Jem, ma'am. That's the reason I wouldn't work where they are. C621 MY HERO The bell had already rung and I was just walking into class. Now I knew that if I came in late, I would not bc permitted to remain there unless I got an excuseg but where was I to get one, as I had just been to my locker trying to find a mislaid pen? I tried to think of a .good excuse as I crept stealthily to my seat, but to no avail. Inspirations or excuses just wouldn't come. Then the next thought was maybe she hadn't heard me come in and I might get by, but at that moment I was sharply called to the instructor's desk and asked to show my excuse. I replied very slowly that I didn't have an excuse, and was then very politely told to get one. I walked out of the room very down- hearted as I thought of the long forty- five minute period after school to make up. Just as I had given up all hopes of returning, some one tapped me lightly on the shoulder and asked me what the trouble was. I explained the situation very thoroughly and was then taken into the office where an admission slip was presented to me, and I was admitted to the class once more. Now if you don't already know, I will tell you that the hero of this experience was Mr. Shaw. THE MOON The moon is like a maiden fair With radiant and shining hair. Her throne is in the sky at night- Her handmaids are the stars so bright. O'er the world she keeps her stand, Guarding and watching every land. Ruling her realm, but flees with the dawn, Returning again when the day is gone. f -June Armstrong Miss Corbett: Margaret, I wish you'd pay a little attention. Margaret Daugherty: Pm paying as little as possible. A I

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ONE NIGHT IN SEPTEMBER Honorable Mention The blow had fallen! Herbert, sit- ting on an apple box in the shed, was sure he had nothing, indeed, to live for. Had not his mother only ten minutes before told him that he could not go to the fair? As he sat there, surrounded by old magazines and musing on his sud fate, an idea struck him. Pvc got it, he told no one in particular. When we go to visit Dunn's tonight, I'll go from there. Maybe Frank Dunn can go with me. Hot Pups P' Evening came and the Graham fam- ily, arrayed in their best, departed for the Dunn's. As Mr. Graham was old fashioned and did not care for automo- biles, they reached their destination only an hour and ten minutes late. As soon as he could, Herbert pulled Frank aside and gave him full details of the proposition. But, gee, protested Frank, How'll we get past the gateman? No need for that, Herbert assured him, We'll climb the fence. It sounded so easy the way he out- lined the plan that Frank was won at once. Mrs. Graham and Mrs. told that their sons were walk and would be back finished, Herb and Frank the fairgrounds. Everything went well at chose a dark, secluded spot Dunn were going for a soon. That set off for first. They in which to climb over the fence. However, com- plications arose. First, there were a couple of rows of barbed wire at the top of the fence. Second, a man on a white horse went past often and gazed at them suspiciously. It' seemed that just as they started climbing, he ap- peared. The boys spent about ten min- utes assuring themselves that the coast was clear. Finally they were ready for the big dash. One, two, three, go! whispered Frank. Silently they scaled the fence accompanied by the sound of ripping cloth. . Suddenly this silence was broken. Hey you! Beat it! With much haste, two thoroughly frightened boys slipped and slid to- wards the ground. But, alas! When they had finished running, they were only three blocks from home. In the excitement they had slid the wrong way! With quaking hearts and sadly muti- lated trousers, Herbert Graham and Frank Dunn traversed the rest of the way in silence. -Clariee Watson. MY PENCIL I was thinking of my pencilg It's a darling little thingg It writes my thoughts and spells words, As does most everything. in y Some days it's dull and lazy, But a little love so dear Will make it sharp and active And banish its lack of cheer. I send it off on trips afar With messages to friendsg It always faithfully relates The news I wish to send. It has a way of growing smaller The greater task it doesg ' The flame of life it holds is short, But a lovely light it shows. I shall not grieve its going, But replace it with one true and tried- The epitaph upon its grave Are thoughts that have not died. -Pa.uline Mickelson . 'WE NEVER SLEEP Great Detective: Ah, I see you have a new cook, my dear. His wife: How did you know it? Great Detective: I noticed the imprint of a strange thumb on my plate. 1613

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