Pershing Middle School - Reflections Yearbook (San Diego, CA)

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with him concealed under her arm. At the door she met a young man who smiled and said, liIs the lady of the house in ?,l lINof, answered the little girl, tlShels gone to town and won,t be back for most an hour I lspect? The stranger said, iiThen please may I come in and wait for her ? Wilma exclaimed, II iScuse me Mr.,rbuteIeI canit let you come in. I donlt dare? and her eyes widened with horror of the consequences if she should not be able to keep him out. llPray tell me why ? asked the amused young man. VVonlt your mother accept strangers into her household ?Il Wilma giggled; it sounded so funny for liSmitterjl to be called liher motherlii Then she exclaimed, IO, Sir, Mrs. Smitters, is not my mother. I qust stay here and work for her. She ainit got any kids 'so she kept me to run or herfl Have you ever gone to school? asked the young man, noticing her bad grammar, Nenot much, answered Wilma. liI ainlt got no decent clothes and Smit eel mean Mrs. Smitters is glad, cause then I donit kick about stayinl home. Iid rather stay home than to go lcause the kids tease me awful about my rags? The strangers lip tightened and in a business like way he asked, llNow, what did you say this ladyis name was P Mrs. A. G. Smitters, answered the girl promptly. The man fumbled in his inner coat pocket for a moment, then drew out a small note book and began to write in it. llMy, ainlt he purtyfl thought Wilma, who had seen few people in her short life. lII wish he was my father; Iid love him as much as I do Ducko, I bilieve. I know Iid not mind to run for him. Iill bet helud be good to me and notdisipear like mamma said papa dide llPardon sister, but how did you say your guardianls name was spelled ? Wilma gave a Violent start at this interruption of her dream and came to earth as he said the last words. Wilma Clarissa Brackney, was the prompt reply. uWilma Clarissa Brackney? said the man pensively. ilWhy, I thought you said that it was something like Snivers P 0? cut in Wilma, ilI thought you was talking about me. Her name is Smitters, S-m-i-t-t-e-r-s, said the girl slowly. As she spelled it a curious smile crossed his face. So your name is Brack- ney, is it ? Yep, retorted the child, lithatls what it is. iiNow listen here youngster, you are just the little girl Ilm after. You .are going to the city with me. Your father left you some money; hes just died. He wandered away from his home seven years ago with temporary insanlty and could never locate his family after he recovered. He left a will giving everything to you. Now hurry up and get your things packed so that we can get away as quickly as possible? iiSqua-awk ! came from under Wilma,s arm. The man started, drew back, and looked at Wilma in horror but changed his expression when a very rumpled duck dropped from under her arm to the floor. He threw back his head and laughed. Wilma was half laughing, half crying in her excitement. She did not know what to- say or do. She stammered il-Thethis is my Duckofl pomtlng to the duck. ll I forgot I had him and Squeezed him when you told me all that news. I can,t believe it! What will Mrs. Smitters say? I know she wonit let me go. Now don,t get excitedf said the man softly, 1,11 attend to Mrs. Smitters and she wonlt bother you any more. Now run up and get your thmgs. magma

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LITERARY $ A Wilmals Revelation ITTLE Wilma Brackney made a curious sight as she sat huddled under L the red rose bush in the back yard of the old farm house belonging to Mrs. Smitters, a cross old widow. VVilma,s hair, which was naturally yellow and made more yellow by constant exposure, was piled in a tangled heap on her head, her face was very red andchapped, and her bare feet and legs were scratched and bleeding from the blackberry bushes from which she had just gathered a basket of beautiful purple berries. Her dress was a made over one? and was sadly stained by the berry juice. It had once belonged to Mrs. Smitters with whom she had lived for the past five years. Wilma propped her elbow on her knee and began to think aloud. nI wona der if my mamma in heaven knows that Smitters ta name Wilma gave her uardian when she was aloney makes me eat scraps, and stay home from school, anl go lway out in the field at night after the cow, Inlen at night sleep on an old hard straw tick in the attic. I wish I could go see her just once, I know she would be good to me anlgll Quack, Quackf came the impatient sounds from Ducko, who had been sitting dreaming by her side and who wakened and wished to be petted. Ducko was a small, young duck who had been crippled so that it could not follow the brood and Wilma seized the chance to make it her only pet. She had become so attached to it that it seemed to be her all. 0, Duckofl she exclaimed, Pd forgot you were here! You are a good duckie, you woke me just in time. I see Smitter coming to see if I ainlt loafinfl With that Wilma sprang up and sped toward the house with the basket of berries. Mrs. Smitters met her at the pump and grabbed her roughly by the arm, saying, You little brat! What have you been doing all this time? You have been out there long enough to pick fifty baskets of berries? With that she shoved Ducko aside and hurried Wilma into the house. llYou,ll just do without your dinner if you donlt get that floor scrubbed before noon? Mrs. Smitters grabbed up her market basket and bag and stalked off toward town to do her morning shopping, leaving Wilma speechless and almost in tears. When she had gone XVilma slipped to the door and opened it a tiny crack and called softly: nDucko, Duckof, She was answered by the usual, llQuack, Quack? and Ducko paddled in to the kitchen. Wilma flew to the pantrv and got a glass of milk for herself and a crust of bread for Ducko; then she pro- ceeded to mop the kitchen floor. She had just gone over it the first time when she heard a knock at the Iront door. Her heart leapt to her throat. She grabbed the astonished duck into her apron, not knowing anylbetter place to keep him, and ran to the door high

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But Wilma did not go just then. She stooped and picked up her pet and said, Can I take this. Do they allow Duckds in Cities ? The man smiled at her great affection and said, Of course you can take your duck. Iim sure he will enjoy the city life? With this Wilma sped up the stairs and soon returned in her best dress, which was nothing to boast of, but an old lawn dress of Mrs. Smitters made into a mother hubbard. She had her clothes tied in a neat little bundle and a shoe box for Ducko, Whom she soon had safely in his prison. They hurried out to the car which stood in front of the house. Wilma put her baggage in, crawled in after it, and they started off. She glanced down the road and saw Mrs. Smitters coming as fast as she could, waving her bag and shouting: Wilma Brackney! You brat! Where are you going? Stop! Stop! This minute W Wilma leaned back and smiled. For the first time since she could remem- ber she felt the thrill of being scolded and not feeling the sting of a slap. -Elsie I. Stricklin, I21. A Student Abroad OVith apologies to Mandevillei HIS CONFESSION, given to me at noon by one of our modest students, is remarkable only for the fact that he is novwfighting languages instead of savages and hunting trouble with the Profs. instead of giants. The adventures as related to me are too numerous to repeat, so I shall tell only those best fitted for the tranquil ear. The speaker was a handsome, well-built, manly youth of about seventeen years. He seated himself as comfortably as possible on one of the seats in the study hall and began to tell his story: While traveling through Africa with my uncle, who is a scientist in search of the rattleless rattlesnake, we had the misfortune to run across a crowd of natives who, With the ordinary pomp and ceremony, beheaded our escorts, and walking on either side of us, convoyed us into town. There the old chief said, Keep young one, hang the old one in tree. Upon hearing this I threw myself on my knees and cried for mercy on my poor uncle, but in vain. I had to watch the barbarians tie him to a tree-top and let him dangle over the lake. As I was struggling to burst my bonds, a bird of tremendous size came and took my uncle in its cruel talons and flew. away. At this my wrath knew no limit, and quickly binding the savages I suspended them by the feet from the branches of nearby trees. Then stepping over to where the Chieftain was I forced him to tell me where this bird had taken wing. He tremblingly told me it had flown to a mountain two hundred miles distant. As there was no time to waste I set out at once and covered the first hundred miles in a few hours. Then hearing a sob in a nearby thicket I went to investigate. I found a beautiful maiden, who told me she was being pursued by a wicked uncle. My heart was touched so I picked her up and resumed my journey. We had not gone far when we found ourselves surrounded by colossal men. As the foremost approached, I tackled him, and swinging him around my head by one foot to clear a path, quickly put the remainder to flight. As I picked up my beautiful blonde I noticed her exquisitely shaped mouth, but as I was in a hurry I rushed onward for I could not linger longer. mum