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

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FAIR SPRINGS GREETINGS Gone are Old Winterts banks of snow, His icy ponds and blustery ways. 'Tis dainty Spring has bid him go; She comes with bright and sunny days. Forth from brown beds, green grass blades show; They wake to greet gay April showtrs. Each little bud Will thrive and grow, And give cool shade to birds and flow'rs. Robin and bluebird hop and sing, TheyTre clad in coats of brightest hue. Mates have been won; wee birdlets Will bring Contentment, joyenew duties, too. So merry rain-drops, sunshine bright, Each leaf, gay flower, and bird on wing, Hearts full of joy, with love a-light, Give thanks again to gay fair Spring. 8A4 CLASS. THE YOUNG TRAILERS The Brains of the Family was lost one day On a Green Timber Trail far, far away; Now this trails on a place called Castaway Isle And Ttis from our country full many a mile; No one can get there but he who is quick For the island is guarded by Moby Dick. HelenTs Babies, so clever, had heard of this loss And started to find it on Parson Jones' Hoss; - The horse got frisky and ran away, And the babies fell into the One Hoss Shay. XVhen they came near the island, they had to fiee 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Until they came to the shore of the isle And rested after their nerve-racking trial. On looking around them Whom should they see But the wonderful horse named Black Beaut-ee! The Last of the MohicanTs chief they found, Who helped them and showed them all around; And When a clue the old chief gave, They found the brains in Cudjds Cave. SIDNEY PRATT, 8Af 50

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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

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A TRIP THROUGH THE PANAMA CANAL At eight o'clock in the morning we left Cristobal where we had been since the last afternoon. We had bought many curios in the Chinese and Indian shops. As we approached the first set of three locks which would raise us to the level of Gatun Lake, we saw on either side dense tropical vegetation and heard the chattering of monkeys and the call of birds. The ship did not go through the locks under her own steam but was pulled by small electric iimules. When we were in the first lock, the gate closed and it filled with water. In this way we were raised to the level of Gatun Lake. Going through the Lake we could see the railroad winding, as we were doing, near the shore. It is possible to go through the canal at night for the channel was marked plainly, with beacons. As we passed Culebra Cut, we saw two dredges at work repairing the damage done by a slide a few days past. At Miraflores tSee the Flowersy Locks we left the ship and drove with some friends through the ruins of old Panama City. Here long ago pirates took the gold from the Spaniards coming from Peru and burned the city in accordance with the pirate saying, A dead man tells no tales. In a short while we went to the dock and took a launch to the ship. As we left port and Balboa faded in the distance, we felt that we had seen one of the most wonderful creations of man, and we were proud that it was all American. EMORY STANLEY, 7A. A FORGET-ME-NOT How free and delightful my life would be if I were a forget-me-not! Mr. Sun would bestow upon me his dazzling brightness. The soft, pattering rain would descend from the heavens to quench my thirst. My brilliant color would be as beautiful as the summer sky. Gay, beautiful Mistress Butterfly would alight upon my soft pretty petals. I would whisper to the fairies and join in their sweetest songs. How happy I should be! There would be no room in my heart for anger and sadness. Swaying in the soft breeze. I would perform my dance of laughter and happiness to the music of the birds' songs. But, best of all, when very, very happy, I would whisper low my soft. sweet words, Forget-me-not, forget-me-not. ROSE ZACKS, 8A4. TOMORROW'S DREAMS There are those who wait for tomorrow to come, To do what they should do now, There are those who sing that which should never be sung, uTomorrow will show me how. I'm sure that today came hand in hand With Luck and Fortune fair, While Opportunity danced on ahead, To be caught by those who were there. We hear grumblers who say, day in and day out, .uLuck has never knocked at my door, While in truth she knocked that very hour, While they dreamed what next day held in store. DONNA LAWRENCE, 8A 51