Junction City High School - Junco Ed Yearbook (Junction City, OR)

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tilts path will wind around the earth, And zig-zag up and down Till eviry hamlet has its cross And wears a thorny crown; Its trail will stretch from pole to pole, Thru, lands of ice and snow, . 1 And over deserts parched and dry:- My God! Why iseit so Pi ii And thus you wear your life away With sighs and groans and tears; No happiness lies stored away For your declining years. Your life is but one endless night, No light can enter in; , You ne er can knOw the joy of love, You re not a man of men. Come brush the cloud from off your soul And join the busy throng, Where each in his own little way Is helping Right along. And each small effort brings forth fruits, Which stored ,neath Justicei robe, Will soon with their united strength Force Wrong from off the globe. Go put away your selfish grief, And help the cause along By striving with all might and main To down this rampart wrong. And when Success shall crown our work You shall indeed be blest, For then shall come the last Decree,- iiWell done, take thou thy restfi --H. L. Thom, IT.

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TO A .MALCONTENT. Youlre tired of this world of sin, Itls- lying and deceit, Where you meet fraud on eV,ry hand, Justice beneath itls feet; I l' . No matter where you turn today You,ll find a world of shame, . Where greedy trusts o,e'r run the land And no one is to blame. ' Try as you will you cannot place The blame Where itvshould be; . You always cast- the WIjOng man down 'The guilty one goes free. I The world is dying out today Beneath its load of crime, llWhy canlt we set these things aright? Come on! Now is the time? It seems as thol no one Will take The lead in this grand cause, a Thol eviry one Will stand around , Aud curse our national laws You just sit down and mOpe and growl, And ev,ry thing goes wrong, Until, With discontent and grief You sing this little song. llOur country has gone money-madf lSad case of mild brainstormy, And now my lads look out for graft, lT-lwill come in .e-vlry form. ,Twill take your money from the bank, The roof from oler your head- The love of gain destroying all Beneath its stealthly tread.

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A. FOOT RACE. Upon the race track in full view, Two athletes whom the boys all knew, Were 0n the mark for a quarter mile. The boys stood smiling all the while, Professor Mickey was short and fat, But looked quite fierce without a hat; Professor Scullen, though slim and short, Nevertheless, Was quite a sport. With his head erect and his chin in air He stood there twisting his curly hair. When sternly commanded to llget set? They both looked iround in feverish sweat. Were they right or wrong now, neither knew; And both were trembling from head to shoe. At the pistol shot, they both did start With palpitatiovn 0f the heart; Mickey took the inner track, Scullen followed at his back, Mickey confident all the while Thinking he could run a mile. Indeed, he set a break-neck pace Intent on staying through the race. As he was not used to this exercise, The initial sprint was quite unwise. Mr. Scullen, though slim and short, Was an athlete of no mean sort, And while the bovs all ,round did crow, He, running close behind, did know That Miekeyis wind was going fast, And not much longer would he last. So, when he. saw his wind was short, Past him ran the slender snort, And when he heard a smallboy yell, liRah! Rah! Scullen! thatis done well Y, He started forward like a deer, Leaving the heavyweight in the rear. Soon Mickey, running far behind, 4 Saw that he must use his mind. To stop would be a bad disgrace,- Far worse than losing 0f the race:- So carefully he kicked off a shoe As he saw nothing else to do. The short man won the race at last, The time was two-to-a - fast. ' -Wilbur Reetz, ,13.