Lincoln Junior High School - Lincoln Life Yearbook (Minneapolis, MN)

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THE FOREST FIRE The Wind brushed softly across the Lake, and murmured among the pines. The small waves splashed upon the Shore, and helped erase the signs That timid little feet had made. The tiny lake was a deep, deep blue, Its waters cool and clear t VJhile on its breast the gulls rockld up And down without a fear. The little lake was fringed With woods Deep, and cool, and green Where rose the stately Norway pines, Their bark with amber sheen: Beneath the pines grew dainty ferns. Moss and Wintergreen: The iron wood, the pin cherry, Maple, blue bell mild: The hazel nut, the wild grape vine, Cedar, ginseng Wild; The blue berry, the choke cherry, Sumac, tamarack: The raspberry, the small ground pine, Night shade and the oak, All these and many more Made up the lake's dark cloak. Some careless camper left his lire, glowing In the night And then the wind, at morn, 'tis said, lashed This forest's blight Into a flaming, roaring pyre, searing To the heart Of e'en the greatest of the pines. Shaming Pluto's art, It lept, it whirl'd, it hissed, and crack'd A scorching, charting, blast, Like an awful breath from Hades That left black and vast, A smoking, glowing, barren waste Where through dreary days The blackened stumps would stand like ghosts. A wild and grimy maze Of twisted brambles, barkless trees, Branches, brittle dry. And gone are all the singing birds, Gone the breeze's sigh Amongstthe needles of the pines; Gone in half a night, What God has taken years to make, And left, a mocking sight. JOHN BLISS, 9A. 48

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7; X C I : Luna RARY

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REMINISCENCES OF THE FAMOUS I remember when I was a little shaver just learning to read the news paper. My mother had promised to take me to the circus if it didnlt rain. The great day came, but it was cloudy and I was a very gloomy little boy. When my mother read the evening paper, she was greatly surprised to find the weather report neatly cut out. She found it in my pocket. It readauRain tonight and Saturday. . NORMAN LUNT. I remember way back when I, a digniiied member of the male sex, turned female. It happened in this way. A dress, a present for my cousin, had arrived, and in order to be sure that it was the right size they prevailed upon me to put it on. I had just put on the garment when my friends ran in as usual at the wrong time. Seeing me clad as a girl was too much for them. Doubled up with laughter, they ran to proclaim my degradation to the world. JULIUS DAVIS. Among my hated remembrances II havenlt a great manyl is that of a black bow tie I wore with a sailor suit. The first few times I wore it I kept it in my pocket. One day becoming tired of that large bulge in my pocket, I walked till I came to a bridge I had to cross. Tying a rock to one end of the tie, I swung it around my head once and let it go. The tie was seen no more. ARNE RIEKKE. I remember way back when mother had a queer, old, funny-looking bag. It was a black mesh, and oh! how I did detest to walk down the street with it on my arm. Every day mother would send my sister and me down to the grocery store with that terrilic looking specimen. The worst of it though, was that when we got to the store, after taking out the necessary coins my sister compelled me to stay outside to hold this dreadful thing while she went in without it to get the groceries. VIETTA MORSE. Children, although I am now grey and hoary I can still remember that terrible experience with the famous wood carver of Lincoln who was known as Lama. Being young, scarcely fourteen years out of the cradle, my eyes were still weak. Espying one whom I took to be my chum refreshing himself at the sparkling fountain of youth, I stole softly upon him and smote with all the strength of my fourteen years. Alas! It was not my friend that I had smitten. It was the famed wood carver Who was known as Lama. Only a glimpse of him did I receive and I fell trembling to my knees. His heart softened, the anger faded from his countenance, he forgave me and bade me rise and go my way. So, chlldren, I tell it to you! you will tell it to your children, and so it will go down through the ages how I once smote the famous woodcarver of Lincoln. JULIUS DAVIS. 49