Lincoln Junior High School - Panthers Lair Yearbook (Orem, UT)

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Santa Claus' Nightmare by Vickie Adams In the North Pole toy shop Buzz, Buzz, was all that was heard. When all of a sudden Santa shouted, My word! He dropped to the floor, He was as white as a sheep The elves in a tizzy Started to weep. For that night was Christmas As you probably know And outside, a blizzard Was starting to grow. Santa lay motionless Flat on the floor. Not even his eyes moved He didn't even snore. The elves were all jittery And stuff of the sort, When the little elf near Santa Heard something like a snort. jumped on his bellyf'Jl-K d started to scre m, When all of a sud en Santa awoke from his dream. 9 EEW x..- ' yes artedItB shrug; He was looking at Minnie The mouse that was mine. i He grabbed her and hugged her Oh he was soooo merry And for the very first time His nose looked like a cherry. Poor Minnie was beside herself with fright, Ho Ho Ho, laughed Santa, I know what's your trouble, You think I've flown my lid Or popped my last bubble. Well, Santa said, in a laughing jest, He was laughing so hard He popped open his vest. You see, I needed a mouse For a Visit from Santa To make it more real Than just some Fantasy. I needed a mouse Who'd sit still all the while, Cause Illl need someone there At whom I can smile. Minnie was delighted, Of course I'll go! She put on her boots And ran out in the snow. Santa jumped in his sleigh To his team gave a whistle And away they all flew like The down of a thistle. B we heard him exclaim re - drove out of sight, I go: me a mouse for this ine hristmas night. 1 Stars by Julie Jensen la ,w at stars up in the skies look like millions of glittering eyes Looking down on everyone here, Some look like eyes filled with fear. For he was throwing her into the air, am! . . . nv- l. Laughing as if he hadn't a care. s!,, ,a's f Was Santa gone daffy? Was heard on the ground From all the elves Scattered round. Others look like happy cheerful eyes, And others are eyes filled with surprise, Some form great pictures in the sky That look like h ' t ' b.. Then the head little elf C ario s PaSSLDg y Stood up very tall, And started to talk In a voice so small That Santa looked around To see what was the matter, All of the elves were starting to chatterE Some are brighter than the others, Some form together in little clusters, Others roam from place to place Up in the vast enormous space.

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The Priceless but Worthless Room by Michael Holdaway It was a hot July afternoon. I was in my back yard and was dreaming of the cold Arctic. If only I could leave this miserable place. It was now ninty- five degrees in the shade. Soon I found myself on an airplane headed for the Arctic. Finally my dream was coming true. I had fallen asleep for about seven hours. When I awoke, we were in a terrible blizzard, a piece of flying ice had hit one of the airplane windows. The cold ice and snow were flying through the window with terrific speed. It had torn the leather seat to threads. Then someone in the back of the airplane yelled, The wing is on fire. Children were cold and crying and adults were praying and hoping. Then there was a huge ex - plosion! The burning airplane had hit one of the lofty peaks of the Arctic. The next thing I knew, I was lying in the cold snow. I was dressed for warm weather. I hated the cold. I hated the heat! I wished I were dead! Then ulthedistance, I saw a cosy little home, flood- ed in Arctic light. Was I insane? A house in this forbidden place. I managed to make it there. I open- ed the door. It was warm inside and the windows had no curtains. The floor was bare and in the corner there was a dinner fit for a king. I saw a door and opening it, I discovered another room. It had beaut- iful velvet drapery and woolen carpet and exquisite hand-carved furniture. There was a table of fruit in the corner. This room also had a door, and I open- ed it. This room had walls of gold and silver with furniture of lead. In the corner was some bread, meat and milk. There was also a door in this room. Finally I had gone through several more rooms, each getting richer as I passed through it. Finally I came to the last room. I opened the door, this room was of pure diamonds blended with rubys and other gems. The furniture was of solid glowing diamonds, the draperies of golden threads, the floor of polish- ed marble. I enjoyed this beauty for a few hours, for I was soon hungry. I looked for some food, there was none to be found. In all the other rooms there was food. I now remember that the same rooms that were more beautiful had less food. It was getting cold in this room of jewels. I tried to find the door, it was gone. I layed down on the bed of hard diamonds. There were my last words, I gave up food and warmth for the cold feel Of now hated jewels. door, it was gone. I layed down on the bed of hard diamonds. These were my last words, I gave up food and warmth for the cold feel of now hated jewels. Arts and Grafts by George Taylor . In the ninth grade arts and crafts this year, Since it is an all year class, we have the privilege of making large projects such as leather handbags and mosaic pictures. Mosaic pictures are made by glueing small glass tiles of different colors in any form desired. They may be glued on almost any smooth surface. When you are through glueing the tiles into place you place strips of brass all around the picture to set off the most important parts. when you are through placing the brass on the picture you take some grout which is much like plaster and place this in the cracks left between the tiles. When you are finisha ed grouting, you take some lacquer and paint this all over the picture, to protect the tiles. This type of art is quite expensive and takes a long time to complete, but when it is done it will become a prized possission, for if you would want to purchase a picture in a store it would cost you quite a sum of money. . We are required to make in a year's time, one mosaic picture, one project in leather and one in the metal project field. . At the Close of each term we are to hand in a fifteen page report on anything we choose. This is all the homework we have for each term. We have also planned to take about three field trips this year, one of which will be in Salt Lake City. We are going to have loads of fun this year in arts and crafts.

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The Ocean Grave by Doyal Stewart After World War I, I had tried several occupa- tions but they had all failed. Finally, I ended up selling pencils at the street corner. During this time I had picked up a bad habit. This was using narcotics. My income had not allowed me to live in a fancy home as you could see, but a shack down by the river that I shared with a friend, Buddy Black. Buddy Black was as bad off as I. He worked for the city and his job consisted of putting dead, unidentified people in steel caskets and then putting them aboard a barge that would take them out to the ocean where they would dump them off. One day while I was working at the corner sell- ing pencils, a woman dressed in a dark dress and mink stole came by and said she would like to see me after work behind a large hotel on Center Street. I found out that her name was Mrs. Ann Drake. After work I went to the given place and one hour later she drove up in a foreign car and told me to hop in. As we drove along; she said that she knew I was a dope addict and then she said that she had taken out a two hundred thousand dollar insurance policy on her hus- band, and if I would get him out of the way I would get ten thousand dollars and a good supply of opium. I did not want to go along with the plan, but I could not overcome that terrible, weird, unbearable feeling that I had without some kind of narcotic. She told me that I could kill him any way I wanted as long as it looked as though it was an accident. She said she was leaving for Europe so it would not look like she had anything to do with it. That night when I went to bed I must have talkv ed about the plan for killing Mr. Drake because in the morning Buddy said he would turn me over to the police if I did not give him half the profit. I thought it over, and thought five thousand was too much to give to him and five thousand dollars was not enought for me, so I would have to get rid of him. I told Buddy that he would have to have a steel casket ready for Mr. Drake and put him aboard the barge . I then arranged for Mr. Drake to meet me at Pier 19. I told him that I had a message that he would be interested in. I hid behind a small shack down by Pier 19 and waited for hours. It was a bright night; the moon was full and some dark black clouds hung low. It was so quiet, but the stillness was broken by the sound of footsteps coming toward the pier. Suddenly, I could see his figure; I picked up a heavy wrench and waited. As he drew near, I took the wrench and threw it as hard as I could. It soared through the air and smashed on his head and he fell limp and lifeless. Then Buddy appeared with the steel casket and as we put the corpse in the casket, I thought what a horrible fate. We then put the steel casket aboard the barge and left. Buddy got panicky and wanted to know where the money was, and I told him that it was coming by mail. The next day the money came along with my supply of narcotics. That day the newspaper said that an unident- ified body had been identified and that the relatives of the Victim had wanted to give her a good funeral. But while looking for the corpse in the steel cas- kets, on the barge, they had found the murder Victim, Mr. Drake, and the murder weapon and were looking for the person that had finger prints like the ones found on the murder weapon. Buddy became angry and came after me with a knife so I shot him, but he managed to stab me in the stomach. After he died, I threw him in the river. I got in my car and fled to an old shack, but by this time the police knew I was the killer of Mr. Drake, and after finding Buddy's body they knew I had committed two murders. On my way to the shack, a patrol car had spotted my car and license plate, and was after me. I got to the shack and it was only minutes until the shack was surrounded by policemen and they called for me to come out. My stomach was really bleeding now. I felt so hot and my heart felt as though it was about to burst. I felt faint and I fell down on the floor. I felt so weak so very, verv weak and my feet and hands were feeling the cold tinges of death. Just then the police broke in but I knew that I would not pay for the two murders by being imprisioned for life.