Thomas Starr King Middle School - Echoes Yearbook (Los Angeles, CA)

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Finally the maiden lost faith in her lover, and sitting among her beauti- ful flowers started to weep. Time rolled by. Her tears lay on the ground around her. They rose until at last she was completely covered, Alas! Still she weeps. Many years have passed and now people say the sea-weeds are the flowers from her garden, the water is from her tears, and, now, at night, when the ocean moans, people say it is the beautiful maiden calling for her lover. Yetifve Bliss, A9 SAN PEDRO DOCKS At the dock in San Pedro where boats come in from all ports, teeming with color and excitement, a small tramp steamer from China chugs in to dock. There is a feeling of oriental mystery about her. The whistle is screaming, one noisy gangplank is falling, the hoarse bellows of men as they clamber to shoreg the groans and grumbles of cranes as they lift the wares from the ship. The smell of sandal wood floats through the air from the interior of the ship. Then everything is quiet except the waves swishing against the pier post as they go shoreward. The odor of freshly cut shingles and the freshly caught fish, the odor of burnt coal and oil are all mingled with the earth smells of dying day. Stanton Chandler, A9 BIOGRAPHY OF A FROG APRIL 14th, 1929, a wee taclpole extradited itself from the mud at the bottom of Willow Pool.The first pure water which it reached was its christening water, and from thence on, we must call it Tad- i pole Grumphf' Of his parents, Tad knew nothing whatever, perhaps he would someday make their acquaintance. Under the pond he darted around, surprised at his freedom from the sticky mud. Soon he grew used to playing tail-tag with other tadpoles, and to listening to old grandpa's stores. It was in this manner that he spent all his tad-hood. It always seemed wonderful to Tadpole that he would someday become a frog, but when the time came that he actually did shed his tail, it did not seem queer at all. Now he was a young frog and could no longer play tail- tag -because he had no tail! His life was spent chiefly in ridding the world of terrific pests-flies. Although that was his only good occupation, that was done to such an extent that we of the world may be very glad there was a Tadpole Grumph. His chief pastime in young frog-hood was doing expert diving and taking stulbaths on lily ponds. In his grandpa-hood, he told stories to all the little tadpoles in Willow Pool fGrumph had never traveled farther than the banks of Willow Poolj. i He died an old, fat, blinking frog, on September 30, 1932, by dire acci- dent-he was eaten by a fish! His greatest works were: teaching young frogs expert diving, ridding the world of 3,200,000 flies, and giving Willow Pool forty tadpoles. Owenita Harrah, A 9 One Hundred Fifty

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at l 4 ,MONKEY DQINGS ' , - U I URING a trip through the Orient with my mother we visited the I cocoanut groves of an English friend living ina province 'in the n 1. Philippines, about a three days' trip from Manila by. interfislands boat. There l saw many things new to me. The thing that interested me most was a small species of monkey that inhabits the cocoanut groves and causes a great cleal of damage as he feeds chiefly on the fruit in its green stage. These monkeys breed very fast and can be seen in the palms. My ambi- tion was to catch some of these cunning little fellows who resemble old men with clean shaven faces. This is how I was taught to capture them by a native employee. I opened a green cocoanut and drained the sap, then poured it into the split cocoanut shell and left it in the sun to ferment, which takes only a few hours in the intense heat of the tropical sun. The little fellows are very fond of this fermented sap and drink it until they become intoxicated and fall over unconscious and can be picked up and put in a cage. I was surely thrilled to catch two of them, but more disappointed when I couldn't get them to eat. The native told me that they would not live more than a week in captivity as they refuse to eat and are very nervous. So, after all, I couldn't have them for pets and had to let them go free, so they wouldn't die. Dylcnza Reyes, B8 'l'HE ORIGIN OF THE SEA THE land beyond the purple mountains, long ago, ,lay a beautiful country called Greece. In this land everyone was jovial, and the world was gay. As long as any of the inhabitants ,could remember, ' the birds had never stopped singing and the trees and flowers had always worn their mantles of bright green, dotted with colors of the rainbow. In one of the little huts lived a beautiful, golden haired, blue-eyed girl. She, too, was happy, but her heart was lighter than all the rest because her lover had just left and on his way down the tree-lined path he had turned and promised that he would return 'ere the first moon appeared. i Day after day passed. At last came the night before the new moon. Only one more day! Then came the new moon in all its shining glory. The night was flooded with its light. The wind played tag with the leaves of the trees. The flowers nodded their heads to the rhythm of the grass swayed by the fluttering breeze. The comet dashed through the sky, and the other stars followed after, with their mantles flying. All the little stars winked at each other as if to say that they knew the secret. The little hours flew by one by one, slowly pulling the golden chariot of the sun-god, Apollo. Still the maiden waited. But day after -day passed, and still her lover did not appear. One ' Hundred Forty-nine

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AQUAPLANING ml, HE dive into thelwater is perfect. Splash! The lake which was as smooth as a mirror is broken into tiny, rippling waves. Then steady, even strokes to a red surf board dangling on the end of a ' long cord which is fastened to a shiny, spotless motor boat. You slide easily onto the long surf board and the boat starts, at first going slowly with its speed steadily increasing. Gradually you crawl upon your knees and finally to your feet. You grasp the cord and hang on tight. The boat is going at a terrific speed. As it turns corners the surf board barely skims the water and the wind is flying past you. But your ride is so thrilling that you hardly notice the cold. The boat is slowly slackening down. The cord is gradually loosening. The boat stops. You jump into the water and swim back to the landing to lie in the sun drying yourself and thinking of your ride which ended only too soon. Marjorie Burger, A9 THE OCEAN The Storm: y The waves, crashing, rumbling, tearing. and raking at the rocks and shoresg vivid lightning flashes dart about. The thunder and the wind 15 screaming. The sky above is pouring all its stored up revenge down on the sea. Ships are tossed like match-sticks on the water and reefs. Big waves dash over them and far into the night rolls the storm. The Calm: A white ship passes byg strong, friendly wind fills the sails. The breeze flows and tosses about the hel1nsman's hair. The deep blue waves roll past the stern. Far in shore the little waves splash on the rocks and shores. The light blue sky smiles down and asks forgiveness for what it did the night before. Stanton Chandler, 119 THE STORY OF THE DANDELION fri, HE sun, the rnightiest of all the gods rode day by day in all his splendor through the skies, beloved and feared by all, save only one. This person was the god of Night, that fearless being who defies 'T all light and steals over the earth enveloping all in a cloak of da1'kness. But his stay was always hindered by the arrival of the sun as he rode across the flaming sky in all his magnificent glory. However, the great god of night was not to be defied, and one day as the sun passed over the hilltop, Night with a bow and arrow, aimed for his heart, and drew the cord of the bow. It snapped with a twang and the arrow sped through the air and pierced the sun. Many little bits dropped to earth, and became little golden flowers called dandelions. These flowers were given power to heal, and if steeped to a tea will remedy many an illness. Therese Aller, 119 One Hundred Fifty-one