Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

Text from Pages 1 - 38 of the 1912 volume:

BERKELEY PUBLIC LIBRARY BERKELEY, CALIFORNIA Reference Collection 74 17939 FOR USE IN THE LIBRARY ONLY Central History Room 373.236 T174m yVULM l 1 The target J 3 1913 01731 3096 at =4 W Iw ' ■ J 7 I kisgkM I Introductory BERKELEY i “1 74 17939 CONTENTS Page OUR PRINCIPAL, CHARLES L. Bl EDEN BACH (Frontispiece) COLOR IN TONE (Poem) .Audrey Davies THE ENEMY TRAPPED Anthony Folger THE EAGLE (Poem) Katherine Stone HOW “STRAWBERRY” WAS CHRISTENED Hilma Davis AT SUNSET (Poem) Laurinne Mattern “BATO Nl DALAGA” (A Philippine Legend) Ella Barrows THE FAIRIES OF ERIN (Poem) Hazel Greene REWARDED Grace Renine GOLDEN GATE AT SUNSET (Poem) Marjory Tuttle HONOR ROLL McKinley city notes.. TO A BUTTERCUP (Poem) Ladeane Shattuck SANDY Beatrice Miller A SPANISH LOVE STORY Thomas Rickard BASEBALL NOTES OUR SPIRIT (Poem) Charles Honeywell THE SONG OF THE CHIMES (Poem) Marion Herrmann A NARROW ESCAPE Helen Van Mater NEVER AGAIN” Preston Bentley THE GRAND CANYON OF ARIZONA Louise Thatcher ODYSSEUS AT THE CANDY SALE Ellis Jones WHAT? Lester Williams GIRLS’ BASKETBALL BOYS’ BASKETBALL ...... TO THE VIOLET (Poem) Lillian Hickok A VIEW FROM WASHINGTON MONUMENT Dora McKinlay AN ADVENTURE WITH A MOUNTAIN LION Raymond Clark “ODYSSEUS” Mary Leavitt TENNIS NOTES ODYSSEUS AT THE CANDY SALE Charles Hallonquist THE MUSICAL CLUBS A THREE-PARTY LINE CONVERSATION Katherine McIntyre THE JAPANESE NEW YEAR ... Hamilton Howells THE BIRD Minnie Ingham A BROOK (Poem) Kathleen Agnew THE SACRIFICE Gregory Harrier EDITORIAL THE LARK (Poem) Helen Saylor THE NIGHT OPERATOR’S STORY Richard Hiscox A VISIT TO THE NEVADA STATE PRISON Donald Wright THE BORING OF A TUNNEL Walter Paroni SPRING’S AWAKENING (Poem) Eleanor Lux THE INDIAN MAIDEN Mary Ritson A CAPTAIN BOLD (Poem) Kathryn Cook JOKES With cut by Edmund Jussen FAREWELL TO THE HIGH NINTH GRADE (Poem) Frances Hyland 3 3 4 5 6 6 7 7 8 9 10 12 12 12 13 13 14 14 14 15 15 15 16 17 18 18 19 19 21 21 23 24 24 24 25 25 26 27 27 28 28 28 28 29 30 32 OUR PRINCIPAL, CHARLES L. Bl EDEN BACH. McKinley Introductory High School, Berkeley VOL. XVII. MAY, 1912. No. 3. COLOR IN TONE. There is in color yet to some un- known — That mystery, Sincerity, Intensity of tone, As from a violin or organ blown. The notes rang out — clear, ringing, deep and true, And as I heard, Within me stirred, A feeling that was new — l thought of that unfathomable blue. The sea, one mighty calm before me lay, I looked — compelled — In rapture held, As the receding day — Part of that sapphirine blue — was tolled away. I toiled the hill — and as I climbed my view Of heavenly blue, Still broader grew. Ah ! then I knew — The sky preserved immortally that blue! AUDREY DAVIES. THE ENEMY TRAPPED. Patrick Conly had been in the ser- vice of the forestry department of the government for over forty years. “Pat,” as he was called by his asso- ciates, was known for his honesty and faithfulness. He had a few days ago received a commission as Chief For- ester in the State of Washington. Pat had just come into camp, which he found all in commotion. “Prowling lim,” had been seen hanging around the outskirts of the camp, and, when accosted had immediately disappeared. The campers were suspicious, for it was well known that “Prowling Jim” was Pat’s worst enemy. There was no sleep for Pat that night. As he lay tossing in his ham- mock, he tried to come to a conclusion. The next morning he started early on his route with two companions. The three explored the surrounding coun- try for their man, keeping their eyes open for the smoke that would mean millions of dollars loss to the govern- ment. Worn out, they dragged themselves back to camp, too tired to see a dark form bending over some dry grass with a lighted match, as they neared a secluded pass that obstructed the view of the tents . Pat and his men slept soundly that fatal night. The dogs had to bring the blood to their arms before they were roused. Awakening with a start the leader saw, to his amazement great clouds of smoke not half a mile dis- tant. Calling his men, they had just time to put on their fighting outfit and escape with their lives. Upon reaching the first reservoir on the fire line they turned a force of water on the trees, but water at that stage was useless. One of the men sent a telegram to the nearest town. One after another the tanks were abandoned as the mighty enemy of man came on. After two days had elapsed the tire was under control. Pat ' s division had been in front from the start, and they were the ones who really conquered it. Relief was at hand, but with a warrant for the arrest of Patrick Conly charged with setting the forest on fire. Conly turned white and had to lean against a tree as he read the warrant. 4 THE TARGET He was guiltless, but to prove it to tbe authorities was another matter. He was immediately taken to Washing- ton. On the way however, the train was wrecked. Among the foremost in clearing the wreckage was Pat, whose sinewy arms worked wonders. There he was in a thickly wooded country, a condemned man with every chance to escape, but he would not take advan- tage of it. The day of the trial came, and our friend was led into the dock. The charge was read, specifying that Mr. Brown, late Saturday night, had seen Conly set fire to some dry grass. He had run to a nearby reservoir and sent a telegram to the nearest town that the forest was on fire. The operator was then called and asked if the message had been re- ceived. He replied in the affirmative. Things looked dark for Pat, but “it is always darkest before dawn,” and the maxim proved true. The operator con- tinued, — “Saturday night I received a call from the mountains that the for est was on fire. This call was sent by Mr. Dorwin a member of Conly’s staff. Mr. Brown’s statement is false.” Silence fell on the courtroom, and Brown moved nervously. Then a laugh rang out from the government’s lawyer. “Gentlemen,” he said, “you have all heard what has just been said; may I ask the speaker how, as telegraph lines are not transparent, nor can one speak through them, he can prove that the call was sent by Dorwin.” “Gentlemen of the jury,” replied the operator, “I have here a telegraph out- fit, which, with your consent, I will set up, and I will turn my back to the court. Then let any number of men use the instrument, and before Dor- win sends five words I shall know his touch on the key.” Now came the climax. Three men sent messages but the witness remain- ed silent. Dorwin came next and with a trembling hand pressed the key; one word, two words — “Dorwin! Dorwin!” came the cry. Again and again the judge rapped for order, and finally the room was quieted. “And now gentlemen, I will add a little to the interest of these proceed- ings.” He walked over to Brown and said, “Disclose thy treachery!” Brown never moved. Grabbing him by the collar, the operator wrenched off a lifelike mask, unbuttoned his vest out of which fell a bunch of rags. There, his identity revealed, stood “Prowling Jim” — trapped. It was a happy afternoon for Pat as he rode home on the great “Northern Pacific Railroad.” Happy also was McHaffy the operator who, seated be- side his friend, was musing over his future prospects. He had been made chief operator in his county, a great factor in his life, but greater still in his mind was the fact that he had saved his friend; for as Pat said’ — “He is well paid that is well satis- fied, And I, delivering you, am satisfied. And therein do account myself well paid.” ANTHONY FOLGER. THE EAGLE. Where cliffs loom up, so tall and steep, Where ne’er but wild things dare tc leap, Where untracked roves the mountain sheep, — The eagle’s cairn is there. No wilder place in all the zones Is found, a nest of sticks and stones, THE T With all about white storm-bleached bones; This is the eagle ' s lain. A little black speck in the sky, A lightning swoop, and then nearby Alights the monarch of the sky, On frightened bird or hare. O eagle, pirate of the wild, Boon nature’s most untamed child, Leader of birds and nations styled, Thy fall may come! Take care! KATHERINE STONE. HOW “STRAWBERRY” WAS CHRISTENED. (A True Story). It was at Strawberry, a little sum- mer resort composed entirely of one dilapidated, but cozy-loking house, which lounged on the bank of a swirl- ing river. Supper was over, and the guests were grouped about the garrulous land-lord, Mr. Barry, on the wide veranda. “By the way,” murmured a tail young man, “how’d this place get its name? I haven’t seen one strawberry growing here to justify the title.” “Waal now, I’ll tell ye. Somewhere around ten years ago, a party o’ men come tram in’ up the road near sun- down, all a-wantin’ ter stay here over night. My place war already full ter spiilin’ over. I wanted ter accommodate them fellers, but whar could I put ’em?” “Directly I thought o’ a place, but 1 didn ' t know how they’d take it. I ask- ed ’em kinder timid if they’d sleep in the barn. That thar,” and he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “ is the same identical one.” “They seemed right willin’ an’ come in ter clean up fer supper. I knowed all along I’d have ter put ’em on hay A R G E T 5 on the floor, so when they’d got up from the table I approaches ’em per- lite an says, ‘Gents, you ' ll have ter sleep on straw ’cause it’s the best I kin do fer ye, an’ I hopes ye sleeps comfortable’.” “They mixed in with t’ other folks fer a while, but directly they started out ter bed. I had saw to it that thar was a good pile o’ hay in the barn, so I took ’em out.” “ ’Gents’, I says, ‘jest pull a pile o’ hay out ter one corner an’ sleep on thet. A good rest fer ye,’ I says as I shet the door.” “An’ then after a bit I went ter bed meself. I was jest failin’ inter peace- ful slumbers when I hears a faint yell from th’ direction o’ the barn. I sprung up in my niglit-clo’es an’ run out thar. All the way I heard ’em yell. ‘More straw, Barry! more straw, Bar- ry!’ I supplied ’em good, an’ went trapesin’ back ter bed, kinder mad in- ter the bargain. Waal now, I lied jest got ter sleep when I hears more faint yells. I was plum mad this time an’ I laid still. But them yells grew louder an’ makes fer thet barn like a house a-fire, a cursin’ ’em at every jump. ‘Gents!’ I cries, ‘what do ye want now?’ ” “‘More straw, Barry! more straw, Barry!’ they growls, poundin’ th’ hard floor.” “An’ b’gosh I was kep’ jumping’ all night by them fellers. It got ter be a standin’ joke, an’ people begin ter call, ‘thet. thar place up th’ river,’ ‘Straw- berry,’ an’ it’s kep’ thet name ever since.” HILMA DAVIS. Lessons in laughing given free by Donna Ellen. Wanted — A patent medicine war- ranted to add fat. Apply to Jack Ir- ving. 6 THE TARGE T AT SUNSET. I joy to watch the skies at e ' en, ' When the sun is sinking low; Living and breathing colors they seem, That softly melt and go. The sun just glides from out of sight, And leaves a path of gold; Then into this there blends a light, Most wondrous to behold. The shades cast over the Golden Gate, Are truly works divine; What mortal man can imitate, This work of art sublime? A perfect rest comes over me, When I gaze upon this all; My thoughts then turn, Oh Lord, to thee — From whom all blessings fall. LAURINNE MATTERX. “BATO N I DALAGA.” (A Philippine Legend. Long, long ago there lived in the “Convento adjoining the Church of San Juan, an old priest named Father Pedro, whom everyone loved, and whose counsel was sought on all oc- casions. One day he went away and was gone some time, and when he re- turned he had a beautiful native girl with him. No one ever knew whence he brought her. He named the child Luz,” which means light,” and called her The light of his life.” Years went by and each day she became more fascinating. Her hair was long, black and glossy, and her eyes so large and beautiful were the awe of the village. She lived in the Convento with the priest, and when she grew older many sought her hand. But the old father guarded her care- fully, training her for the convent and the veil. The lovely maiden knew noth- ing of her suitors, for her only out- ings were in the little garden behind the church and an occasional walk walk with Father Pedro. It was on one of these walks on a soft, sweet night, as they were wind ing their way along a path leading out of the village, that a young man stopped them and speaking courteous- ly to the priest, inquired the distance to the next town. As the way was long, the father, forgetting his caution for Luz and craving company of his own sex, invited the handsome youth to spend the night at the Convento. The stranger gladly accepted, and on the way home, while talking with the priest, gazed admiringly at the girl by his side. On arriving at the Convento. Luz brought wine, then bade them good night and went to her room. With the first streaks of dawn the village was awakened by the bell in the tower ringing! Ringing! Such a wild startling clanging! It was not the Sabbath. Why then should the bell ring? Only twice before had it rung out of its accustomed time, first when the former priest of the church had died and second when the village was warned of a forest tribe of Ibilao creep- ing up to sack the town. The people quickly gathered at the church, and the priest, stumbling down the old tower stairs, in broken phrases told of the stranger and how both he and the beautiful maiden, The light of his life, had disappeared. Men searched for days and weeks with no result. One day a traveler came into the town and told a strange tale — of how a day or two before, while riding a few miles westward, he had seen, sitting on a huge rock, the maiden Luz, spinning. He hurried to her, thinking to take her back to the old priest, but when within a few yards, the rock seemed to open, and she disappeared. The news being carried to the priest, T HE T A in a few hours he died, his heart broken. The maiden has never been seen since, and the rock is called “Bato in Dalaga,” or The Rock of the Maiden. ' ' ELLA BARROWS. “THE FAIRIES OF ERIN. To a sweet young maid, Of my dear green isle, With merry frank eyes And her bright happy smile. Out on the braes at midnight Mid surrounding shrubs and trees, The most wonderful, beatiful fairies Come up and dance in the breeze. The beautiful Irish fairies Still live and dance today, For the loving Irish people; Don’t scorn them and send them away. Away in this new young country. Fairies are merely a joke, But the’re emblems of poetry and beauty To the tender Irish folk. Oh England! harsh mistress, 1 pray thee, Come not to my fanciful land, Scorn not my beautiful faries. And banish them with thy hand. For if the fairies are banished, The spell of Erin is broke — • The nature of her children Will be just like other folk. They ' ll spend all their time in learning, They’ll find sin and crime in this life, They’ll crave money, oh curse among nations! Oh leader of sin and of strife! R G E T 7 The children of Erin grow weary. They look forward and long to see A time when they will be happy — A time when Erin is free. But the fairies still keep her charm, And dance and sway in the breeze, Out on the braes at midnight, Surrounded by shrubs and trees. Sometime we’ll go and surprise them — Silently hand in hand, And see the beautiful fairies Of our own dear Erin land. HAZEL GREENE. REWARDED Jack Carson was a lad of seven years, with red hair and blue eyes. His father was killed in a train ac- cident and his mother had just died leaving Jack homeless. He had an aunt and a grandfather, but his mother had never been able to find them after the close of the Civil War and therefore Jack knew of them only as described in story by his mother. It was the night before Christmas when Jack gazed at the brightly lighted shop windows. Suddenly he wheeled around and stood thinking where he should spend the night. He looked up just in time to see a very beautiful lady pass. O!, she was just like his mother. Tears sprang to his eyes and he lowered them, but as he did so they rested on a plump purse lying on the sidwalk. It belonged to the lady who had just passed. He gazed at the purse, then he looked around, nobody was looking; should he keep it or return it. He saw his mother on her death bed as she raised her head and said feebly, “Jack, my dying wish is that you always be honest.” He desired to fulfill the wish and throwing his shoulders resolutely 8 THE TARGET back, brushing his sleeve hastily over his eyes, he grabbed t he purse and running to the lady, returned it. She thanked him and offered him a five dollar bill and said, “Go and buy your mama and papa some pres- ents.” “I — haven’t — an — y — m — moth — er — or — f — fath — er,” he sobbed, “I — am — - an — or — phan”. “What is your name?” “Jack Carson and I was born in Richmond, Virginia,” he answered proudly. “What was your mother’s name? Did she give you anything when she died?” “Here are some things she gave me”, he said as he drew a large hand- kerchief from his pocket and carefully opening it he displayed a ring and a locket. The lady looked at the ring and found that it bore the inscription “To Rose from Joseph”. Examining the locket she found that it contained two pictures, one was of a man and lady and the other of two little girls. “Why”, she gasped, “this picture is my mother and father and that one my sister and I”. “No”, he said determinedly, “this one is my mother and her sister and that one, her mother and father”. “Look”, she said as she took from her purse, a locket. It was the same as Joseph’s. Opening it she disclosed two pictudes the same as in the locket Joseph held. She thought of her long- lost sister then she said aloud, “What is your aunt’s name?” “Blanche Marie Black. My grand- father’sname was Colonel John Black, of the Confederate Army.” “Why that is my name and my father’s,” she said, then she thought again of her sister. The mystery was solved. This was her sister’s child, for the lockets had been given to the sisters for Chrismas many years be- fore the war. Clasping her arms about his neck she kissed him and said proudly, “I am your aunt. Come home and see your grandfather”. The grandfather was bewildered when told the strange stox-y of the meeting of Blanche and Jack, but he remembered his daughter Rose, who at the commencement of war went to the enemy’s camp disguised as a negro wash-woman, but she had never re- turned and they had never heard of her since. Colonel Black rewarded Jack with an education and now he takes cai’e of his grandfather’s estate. GRACE RENNIE. GOLDEN GATE AT SUNSET. I. Oh, Golden Gate at nightfall, When the evening sun is low, How lovely, oh, how lovely. It makest thou to glow! II. See there on the horizon, A dainty touch of pink, Lighting the sky and waters, Until they seem to link. III. Then higher in the heavens, The palest violet hue, Is joined by bands of fleecy clouds, To sky of clearest blue. IV. Blow lovely is the coloring, Against the purple hills, Whose nobility and grandeur, My mind with rapture fills. V. Then see, just in a twinkling, All fades to dullest gray, And out of sight the great red sun, Has dropt and passed away. MARJORY TUTTLE. THE TARGET 9 HONOR ROLL. The “Target” is again pleased to announce the names of those who re- ceived reports free from third and fourth sections. High Ninth Grade. Ruth Averill, Grace Becker, Louise Bigelow, Dorothy Blacker, Donald Crystal, Jose Guevara, Marion Herr- mann, Theresa Hihn, Dorothy Hope, Helen Marr, Hollis Moore, Raymond Muenter, Irma Bennett, Isidore Cere- ghino, Catherine Delamere, Reighley Detrick, Lillian Hegarty, Ida Muller. Low Ninth Grade. Bayard Buckham, Harold Cobh, Les- lie Graham, Norman Heinz, Helen Lester, Gerald Schuyler, Majory Tut- tle, Marian Blankinship, Elliott Cook, Doris Holler, Lucy Moore, Corinne Painter, Vincent Watterich, Madalyn Miller, Parker Hall, Gregory Harrier, Florence Noddin, Priscilla Rugg, Helen Rust, Katherine Stone, Kathe- rine Towle, Margaret Geary, Dorothy Kellogg. High Eighth Grade. Douglas Crystal, Fred Houston, Jonathan Hoyt, Grace Maddock, Jack Pine, Ella Barrows, Hildreth Caldwell, Andrey Davis, Hilma Davis, Genevieve Grady, May Gruber, Aura Hardison Charles Honeywell, Ruth Le Hane, Florence Merriam, Eda Oetensen, Grace Rennie, Pauline Wilkinson. Low Eighth Grade. Rachel Bretherton, Eleanor Hughes, Gertrude Lackman, Aileen Mason, Hester Myers, Muriel Brick, Raymond Clark, Francis Frost, Joseph Glazer, Julian Le Conte, Edwin McCord, Rob- ert Truman. High Seventh Grade. Rachel Andersen, Marguerite Ben- nett, Ruth Henkle, Linden Naylor, Marie Preiss, Marian Thaxter, Ran- dolph Van Nostrand, Dorothy Brown, Charles Cobb, W allace Kenney, Beth La Shells, Cecille Le Conte, Margaret Smith, Constance Topping, Percy Burchaell, Harold Crockett, John Hat- field, Annie Hegerty, Loraine Hughes, Louise Merrill, Ruth Schmidt. Low Seventh Grade. Geraldine Burnett, Elizabeth Burke, Hamilton Howells, Mabel Johnson, Rufus Johnson, Constance Lutgen, Dorothy Percival, Alma Smith. Isa- belle Warwick, Earle Lowell, Fannie McHeney, Francis Morris, Starr Nev- ins, Ernestine Porter, Edith Quacken- bush„ James Torreyson, Eleanore Tingman. High Sixth Grade. Doris Marks, Blake Curly, Alice Geer, William Boone, Fern Green, Wikes Glass, Genevieve House. Low Sixth Grade. Fernando Maldonado, Kujo Uyeya- ma, Victor Strite, Laurance Durgin, Louis Le Hane, James Lawson. High Fifth Grade. Sylvia. Woollett. Low Fifth Grade. Jean Jussen, Harry Preiss, Ethel Bonner, Lois Brock, Alice Carter. Third Grade. Lily Baxter, Marjory Lewin, Virgi- nia Peck, Dorothy Ritchie, Irene Tob- in, William Gardner. High Second Grade. Anita Aylworth, Gertrude Kendall, Norwood Nichols, Jean Jardine, George Minifie, Muriel Ross, Beatrice Harkey. High First Grade. Clarence Mayo, Winston Brasfield, Barbara Roberts, Clifford Bengett, Lucille Hitt, Elizabeth Donnell Mr. Cobert suggests that the school provide a nurse for Herschel Jessup, who is to see that he gets his Latin papers in on time. Applications will now be received at the “Target” of- fice. 10 THE TARGET mckinley city officials. Upper Row, left to right — Dorothy Clarke (1st tei’m Judge), Genevieve Ocli- eltree (2nd term Com. of Athletics), Lucy Moore 2nd term Com. of Law and Order). Lower Row, left to right — Merle Lillie (1st term Mayor), Ada Fish (2nd term Judge), Katheleen Agnew (1st term Com. of Athletics), Reighley Detrick (1st term Com. of Law and Order), Vivienne Thompson (2nd term Mayor). REASONS FOR SUCCESS. McKinley City has been governed in a most satisfactory manner through- out the term. During the two periods the officers have been efficient to an unusual degree. However, little prog- ress would have been made without the support of law-abiding and good- spirited citizens. But loyalty and unity have characterized the student body, which, guided by the people it so wisely chose for leaders, has made our school government a marked suc- cess — one difficult to excel. The re- sults of the first election were given in the March number of the “Target” and notes of the last, in this issue, to- gether with photographs of the two groups of successful candidates. McKinley city election. We have been very fortunate to get the splendid people we did for McKinley City officials. The “Tar- get” wishes to congratulate them on the splendid way they are doing their work. The school certainly ap- preciates their enthusiastic and suc- cessful efforts. Those elected were: Mayors — Vivienne Thompson, Wil- liam Hitt. Commissioners of Law and Order — THE TARGET 11 mckinley city officials. Upper Row, left to right — William Hitt (2nd term Mayor), Robert Von Tempsley (1st term Com. of Law and Order), Donald Morris (2nd term Judge), Donald Crystal (1st term Mayor), Norman Gallison (2nd term Com. of Law ana Order). Lower Row. left to right — Billy Waste (1st term Judge), Rodger Peters (2nd term Com. of Athletics). Lucy Moore, Norman Gallison. Commisioners of Athletics — Gene- vieve Ocheltree, Rodger Peters. Judges — Ada Fish, Donald Morris. Clerks — Kathryn Cook, Edmund Jussen. Police Officers — Merle Lillie, Reigh- ley Detrick, Ruth Robinson, Aileen Treat, Priscilla Rugg, Maude Hind, Edythe Farley, Dorothy Critzer, Irma Bennett, Margaret Geary, Carrie Templeton, Josephine Park, Llewel- lyn Haskell, Louis Alexander, Ward Durgin, Carl Jefferson, Raymond Muenter, Donald Crystal, Robert von Tempsky, John Muldoon. McKinley school fund. STATEMENT, May 6, 1912. Mar. 4, 1912, balance on hand $56.95 Mar. 22, 1912, Seventh Grade Candy Sale 40.00 Total $96.95 Plants and spray pump.... ... ..$ 8.00 Basketball court repairs 4.77 Tennis bails and marker 6.90 Baseball bats and league dues. .. 4.00 Tenor horn 20.00 Orchestra music 2.51 Repairing of Victor 1.50 Total $47.68 Balance on hand $49.27 C. L. BIEDENBACH. 12 THE TARGET TO A BUTTERCUP. Buttercup, buttercup, smiling to greet These soft, gentle breezes, whene’er you them meet. You bow, and you wave, and toss with delight, When along comes the breeze, and takes you to flight. You make us all happy, and cheer us when sad, And when children find you, they do seem so glad, That you ought to remember the good you can do, And bloom afresh next year with blos- soms anew. LADEANE SHATTUCK. SANDY. Sandy was a sandpiper. He was a very small bird and had a long black bill and tiny web feet as all sandpipers have. He lived on the beach with a flock of other sandpipers, flying close to the waves near the shore and hav- ing a very good time. But one day a dog running into the water frightened the flock and they, flying very near the shore were shot at by the boy who owned the dog. About twenty fell and Sandy was one of them. Some of the birds that fell were carried out by the waves, but Sandy who was only shot in one wing walked along the beach. And I walking by, saw him and finding his wing hurt, took him home. He ran about the floor catching a fly whenever he saw one and after a while became so tame that he would come to me whenever I called him. On cold nights when the fire-place was lighted Sandy would run in and stand by on the hearth on one leg, with his head under his wing. Other days in the summer Sandy was let out to run about the lawn. He would never run away and always came when you called him. But Sandy did not live long, for he missed the ocean and other birds of his own kind. He died one night, about two months after I found him and I buried my little friend under a poplar tree on the lawn. BEATRICE MILLER. A SPANISH LOVE STORY. Florita and Beebo were going to elope, so one morning before sunup. Beebo rode up to Florita’s house and called for her. She came up, mounted behind him, and they were off. But Florita’s father was on the track and he was much opposed to their mar- riage. They were in despair as they heard the pounding footsteps of his horse. But Beebo suddenly thought of a bright idea, — he would dismount, hide Florita and the horse, disguise himself as a caballero and waylay the old gentleman. This he did most succes- fully. After tying Florita’s father to a near-by tree, Beebo mounted and rode back to Florita. With the two horses they then galloped quickly to a neigh- boring Father and were married. On their return Beebo hid the stolen horse and mounted in front of Florita. When they arrived at the scene of the bloodless tragedy, they both dismount- ed. Beebo played the part of the gal- lant rescuer and set the old man free, after which he gave them both his blessing. THOMAS RICKARD. The boys always start their folly Of kicking Linden Naylor’s collie. If they don’t stop, by gollie, They’ll get a bite from Linden’s collie. Irma Bennett — “The consul killed himself and took his army.” THE TARGET 13 BASEBALL TEAM Upper Row, left to right — Mr. Biedenbach, Donald Crystal, Harold McGowan, John Muldoon, George Davis, George Ward, Walter Paroni, Lew Marcellis Lower Row, left to right — Mr. Smith, George McCord, Rodger Peters, Monte Hodgman, Wallace Schort, Norman Heinz. BASEBALL. The team, o n account of the splen- did support given by the boys, girls and teachers of McKinley School, has had one of the best years in our base- ball history. Out of 14 games play- ed ten have been won, one tied, and three lost. McKinley has defeated Franklin, Whittier, and Washington Schools, all of Berkeley. In G. Ward and L. Marsellis, we have two good pitchers, both having three-hit games to their credit. The team tenders its thanks to the boys, girls and teachers for the sup- port they have given us. MONTE HODGMAN (Captain). OUR SPIRIT. We ' ll shout for “Mckinley,” we’ll stand by her, too, To the dear school, you know, we’ll ever be true. We honor her colors, they ' re always ahead, There’s none that can beat them — the black and the red. Her teams are victorious wherever they play; Her loyal school spirit grows stronger each day; Her name stands for honor, her ban- ner for worth ; Hurrah for “McKinley,” the best school on earth! CHARLES HONEYWELL. 14 THE TARGE T THE SONG OF THE CHIMES. The old church chimes are ringing, dear, The chimes we love so well; We listen to the ringing bells. For the tale they seem to tell. It is a story often heard — The bix-th of a little child. The mother fondly o’er her bends. Kissing her cheeks the while. The second scene is the brightest one. The babe is a woman now. The wedding bells peal loud and clear, As she makes her solemn vow The final scene, it is most sad. Which the funeral bell does ring; But up above, in heaven high, We hear the angels sing. MARRION HERRMANN. A NARROW ESCAPE. “Forty, forty-one, forty-two, forty- three.” Ned had been fishing all day and now with rod over his shoulder and cap on the back of head, was re- turning home by the railroad track. He had been trying to see how r many rails he could walk without falling off. The forty-third rail ended where the track switched, branching off in two directions, making a sharp curve to the left. At the end of that fatal rail, just at the switch he slipped and fell. When he tried to rise he found one foot tightly wedged between the two rails. Pull and tug as he would he could not move his foot. The three o ' clock “flyer” flashed through his mind and as if to make the thought a fact, a faint whistle sounded far down the canyon. Ned sent one shriek after another for help, but the only answer was his own voice flung mockingly from one cliff to another; and a now louder whistle of the train pulling into West- hams. The brook hummed peacefully as it glided down the ravine and the birds flew happily from tree to tree. With an effort Ned aroused himself from a paralysis of fear as he heard the warn- ing “Toot! Toot!” of the onrush! ug train and the sonorous rumble as it crashed over the trestle two miles away. If only he were on a straight track or the bushes were not tall! An idea popped into his head at sight of his fishing rod. Tearing the red bandana from his neck, he tied it tight to the rod and waved it frantically. The noise of the train deafened the boy and as it crept around the curve and stopped four yards in front of him, he fell in a heap on the track. HELEN VAN MATER. “NEVER AGAIN.” “I can ' t do this Latin anyway,” dis- mally remarked John, “I guess I’ll go to bed, its almost one A. X.” He was soon in bed and sleeping soundly, even if it was with a troubled conscience. Suddenly he sat straight up in bed, “What ' s that?” he exclaimed. He heard a dismal clanking coming upstairs. Then through the door marched Caesar and Cicero, arm in arm! There he is!” exclaimed Caesar. Bind him!” The frightened boy was dragged out of bed, shivering in the cold, and was bound by one of the guards. “Bring him along!” He was dragged after the guard, down the stairs and out into the night. All was changed. The streets had no lights. There were no telephone wires. “This must be Rome!” THE T He was taken to a large building and Caesar began to question him. “Decline ‘safe shore!,” “I-Id-don ' t k-know how,” stammered John. “Why not?” thundered Caesar. “Id-didn’t study it.” “Then you must be beheaded!” “Oh please let me live! I ' ll study hard! ” “No. Take him away.” Just as the ax was descending John fell out of bed. “It’s only seven o’clock,” he said, and I’ll do it before school.” PRESTON BENTLEY. THE GRAND CANYON OF ARIZONA. The Grand Canyon of Arizona is one of the American wonders. When I visited it in winter time the whole canyon was covered with a thick layer of snow except on some parts of the sides where the snow could not re- main. In such places beautiful colors in the rock would attract every one’s attention. As we looked down on the rocks, at sunset, the colors blended into each other and shaped the figure seven. The sun shadowed certain rocks which brought out this figure. We went down the canyon on little donkeys. Some places -were so steep we had to walk. At one place called the “Devil’s Corkscrew” where a large rock projected, the path was so wind- ing and there were so many rocks in the way that we had to have the help of the guide. Several of the women got so dizzy going around this point that they fainted. Plalf way down the canyon there was a half-way house. The guide came nd showed us a wonderful thing. He tcok us to a point where rocks ex- tended around us; we were told to look up. In a bright sunny sky we ARGET 15 were able to see as many bright stars as in night time. Any one who wishes to see one of nature ' s beauties should go to the Grand Canyon of Arizona. LOUISE THATCHER. ODYSSEUS AT THE CANDY SALE. Lo! See what is before us! This dees not look like a place of zeus. What queer robes these people wear, and see what they are eating! They seem to call it “candy.” See how they stare at us. Are they plotting some harm against us? Nay, that could not be. I do not see their noble king. This cannot be a palace, — and these people must be thralls. Let us go in here. See! Here are some pic- tures of Zeus and other gods. The ' e is a loud gong, see they are forming in line; now they have disappeared in the building! ELLIS JONES. WHAT? There was a sudden giunding of brakes on wheels. The train stopped with a sudden jar. Many suggestions were offered as to what the cause was. Some could feel the other train bear- ing down upon them, -while others thought only how much money they were going to lose by being late for their business. What were the orders the conductor was giving? Didn’t they sound like, “Hurry and back her be- fore the ‘Overland’ comes,” or some equally other fear-exciting command? At last one of the passengers’ curiosity could not be satisfied. He got up and looked in front of the engine and there was coming down the track at full speed, — a cow! LESTER WILLIAMS. Wanted — By Harold McGowan, a po- litical position. 16 THE TARGET SENIOR BASKETBALL GIRLS Upper Row, left to right — Helen Lester, Josephine Park, Fern Rolph, Miss Ellerhorst, Ethel Hoffman, Grace Becker, Kalha Ingham. Lower Row. left to right — Kathryn Cook, Margaret Thaxter, Genevieve Och- eltree, Madeline Shaw, Octavine Burchenery, Kathleen Agnew, Lillie St John, Florence Noddin, Rebecca Hammond. GIRLS’ BASKETBALL. The girls are taking great interest in basketball this term. They play- ed several inter-class games, but have not yet taken part in inter-school contests, but they may do so before the close of the year. The players of the High and Low Ninth Grades are combined into a Senior team which is practicing faithfully and do- ing good work, owing to the efforts of their coach. Miss Ellerhorst. All the teams, Seventh, Eighth, and Ninth are playing enthusiastically and with a determination to improve and they are certainly gaining results. The girls of the seventh grades are much interested in athletics this term, especially basketball. They have played many spirited games and have frequently been encouraged by an en- thusiastic body of spectators. The fol- lowing people have been seen on the field with their captains, Fannie Mc- Henry and Jane Baclirach: Helen Tre- vor, Florence Murkheim, Helen Grant, Beth Cereghino. Annie Hegerty. An- nie Karasky, Margaret Smith, Con- stance Baclirach, Theodora, Robert- son, Ruth Scotford, Hazel Amiot, Hel- en Woolley and Dorothea Ellerhorst. THE TARGET 17 BASKETBALL TEAM. Left to right — John Muldoon, Warren Nevin, Walter Sissons, George Davis, Millard Petersen, Marcus Guest, Monte Hodgman. BOYS’ BASKETBALL. McKinley is proud of her basket- ball team this year. Every boy on the team does his full share, keeps in training, and feels his reponsibility. The players are as follows: Monty Hodgman, forward; George Davis, for- ward; John Muldoon, center; Captain Nevin and Millard Peterson, guards; Walter Sisson and Marcus Guest, substitutes. Each player is now thoroughly fami- liar with his position owing to dili- gent daily practice. Monty Hodgman is always there to shoot the baskets while George Davis is in the thick of the game every minute. John Mul- doon, always a dependable player, is improving greatly in basket throwing. Captain Nevin and Millard Peterson do first-class guarding and in every game make some spectacular run up the field and shoot up well whenever they have an oportunity to get in the game. The team has won seven games out of ten, an excellent record; and is justly rated as one of the best basket- ball teams of the Berkeley Schools. They certainly deserve their “Ms.” The spirit among the boys has been fine, a great many turning out to each game, but Captain Nevin says that when they play in Oakland very few boys turn out. Let us shout the team on to victory, boys, whenever they play. RANDOLPH NICERSON. 18 THE TARGET TO THE VIOLET. Oh, lovely woodland violet, Blooming by the brook, Cheering weary travelers, Who upon you look. Buttercups and daisies, Have long time been asleep, But you dear little violet, Still your vigil keep. Children love to find you, Hiding in the grass; While looking for the crocus, They never let you pass. In the cool and shady woods, Where all is calm and still, Your fragrance, little violet, The balmy air does fill. The birds have all gone southward; The pines have ceased to sigh, But the ever-faithful violet, Still greets the passer-by. LILLIAN HICKOK. A VIEW FROM WASHINGTON MONUMENT One morning, during our last winter in Washington, we received a telegram from some California friends stating that they would arrive that afternoon for a brief visit. As they had never visited the national capital before, we started to plan excursions for their amusement. Several trips were sug- gested for the first morning, but we decided that we would go to a few government buildings, then to the Washington Monument where we would spend sometime, and finish the morning ' with luncheon at the quaint little Teacup Inn, that every stranger in Washington should visit. I have been in the monument mans times, but I shall never forget that one particular visit. In the first place the weather was in our favor. During the night the earth had drawn on a fresh white blanket of snow and all the dust and soot of the city was ef- faced. It was clear as only an eastern day after a snow storm can be, and cold, a sharp biting cold that one soon learns to love. The Potomac ' winds its way around the base of the monument, amid love- ly woods and beside the beautiful city of Washington. It is not frozen all the w r ay across, but on each side is a fringe of snow covered ice, six or eight feet wide. Directly below us is the White House with its snow cov- ered lawns and glistening trees. A fountain is playing in front of the mar- ble pillars. Near by are the ice ponds, covered with merry skaters, and the boulevard, following the course of the river. Some distance to the east is the capitol, with its marble dome and two great wings outstretched, and ex- tending between is a park a block wide, called the Mall, laid out in lawns, gardens and walks. As far as the eye can see to the east and north are snow-covered roofs of red brick houses and wide streets. Darkies are busily engaged in shoveling snow from the sidewalks, and the sound of their broad wooden shovels is faintly aud- ible. In the older part of the city the walks are made of red brick and look like broad ribbons threaded in and out. The city is dotted with small parks named after the great men of our nation, each containing a bronze statue of the man for which it is named. To the south are the beautiful woods of Virginia with the white pillars of Arlington just visible. I could easily imagine the sorrow of the Lee family at leaving the only home they knew — and such a home! Lafayette, while seated on the broad veranda and look- 19 THE TARGET ing down the Potomac to the old town of Alexandria and across to Washing- ton pronounced the view the most beautiful he had ever looked upon. But that morning had to end, as all good things do, so we took the ele- vator to descend, a procedure which takes seven minutes. As we stepped out of the door I looked up. The broad windows in which we had been stand- ing were like tiny dots. It has been said that one must took three times to see the top of Washington monu- ment, and I will vouch for the veracity of the statement. DORA McKINLAY. AN ADVENTURE WITH A MOUN- TAIN LION. (A True Story). When I was about ten years old, my father and mother took me to the gov- ernment reserved redwood trees, “The Big Basin.” It was a hot sultry even- ing; I had just finished a book dealing with bloody highwaymen in Spain; and as I walked along the gloomy path wondering what I would do if a robber jumped out upon me, a form in a yellow doublet and with gleaming- eyes, loomed up in front! I was root- ed to the ground and my heart beat loudly against my ribs. What was that? The highwayman smacked his lips, — he moved toward me with some- thing shiny in his hands. At that moment there was a cry behind me; the shadowy form resolved itself into that of a mountain lion, and with a resounding screech dashed into the woods! My mother, who had come up behind me, told how near I had been to death, but a sturdy woodman laughed when we related the story and said that it was only a mountain lion feeding on some scraps, and that it had been more frightened than I. RAYMOND CLARK. “ODYSSEUS” I was alone waiting for the next person to take my place to sell candy. A very queer man came toward me, seemingly out of the air. He was clothed m a mantle caught around his waist and hung over his shoulder. His hair was in long curls about his head, giving grace and beauty to head and shoulders. A sword hung at his side, and there were sandals on his feet. He came directly to me. “Candy, sir?” I asked wondering what he was doing in the McKinley School, unless he had heard of the candy sale and was there for that. I had noticed when he came in that he seemed to be much bewildered, as if he had never seen a school before. But paying no heed to my question he said, “I am Odysseus, son of Laertes, who am in men’s minds for all manner of wiles, and my fame reaches to heaven. And I dwell in clear seen Ithaca wherein is the Mt. of Nerition.” I was greatly amazed but I answered the best I could to Odysseus, son of Laertes, whose fame reaches to heaven. “Stranger, for as much as thou seemest no evil man nor foolish, would’st thou some candy? For nought is more shameless than raven- ing belly, which biddeth a man be mindful of him.” “And who art thou, my fair-tressed maiden, that thou biddest me eat and drink and maketh me utterly to for- get my sufferings? But come, hearken and give me eat and drink.” So saying he took of our candy, this Odysseus of many devices, Ody- sseus, son of Laertes, whose fame reaches to heaven! MARY LEAVITT. TENNIS CHAMPIONS AND MANAGER. Left to right — Louise Bigelow, Helen Rust, Mabel Canavan, Laurinne Mat- tern (Manager). TENNIS CHAMPIONS. Left to right — Walter Tweedie, Fred Houston, Anthony Folger (Manager) THE TARGET 21 GIRLS’ TENNIS NOTES. Girls’ tennis has been progressing splendidly this term; the game is very popular and the courts are always in demand. A series of tryouts have been held which resulted in making Mabel Canavan our representative for singles while Helen Rust and Louise Bigelow will play in doubles. These people met the players at Miss Rans- me’s School, Piedmont, and did ex- cellent work. Although we were de- feated the teams had much the same style play and in the majority of games the score was brought up to deuce. The Seventh Grade girls have been doing some good playing. They have just completed a series of most inter- esting games. Helen Clark and Beth Cereghino played the final match and they did excellent work. Helen Clark was victorious, however, and is the champion Seventh Grade player. All the tennis girls had an opportu- nity to play on the Berkeley Tennis Club courts one Saturday recently, owing to the courtesy of Anthony Folger, and they spent a very pleasant morning. LAURINE MATTERN, (Mgr.). BOYS’ TENNIS NOTES. There have been no match games in tennis with hoys this term, owing to the recent illness of Girard Gray and Anthony Folger, and the ab- sence of Leland Moccker. For next term plans are being made for inter- school tournaments which are looked forward to with great enthusiasm. However, the boys are not idle. Fred Houston has developed a strong drive, and is playing a better game than for- merly. It is expected that he will win the coming tryouts with ease. Walter Tweedie has improved his serve and drive, both of which usually take ef- fect. Anthony Folger is getting his overhead strokes under control, and is trying to develop a drive. Let us wish them all success, and that the inter-school games will prove the climax of the coming season. ANTHONY FOLGER (Manager) ODYSSEUS AT THE CANDY SALE. It was a great day at the school when the Seventh Grade had a candy sale. As I was coming to school at noon, I met a man who looked as if he had lived in ancient times. Lie was dressed in a red doublet and mantle, and had a very stately walk. He asked, “Stranger, to what man ' s land have I come? See! this country is not in the likeness of royal Ithaca.” I said, “Come and I will show you our school.” He followed with his swinging strides, and it did not take long to reach the school house. Then he spoke and said, “Surely this looks not like the council-place of great men.” I had to explain that it was a school and not a council-place. When we got into the building he was amazed and said, “Ah! all high-roofed dwellings in Ithaca are made of stately marble!” After he had wandered about the building he went to the candy table and said to the girl there, “Friend, thou seemest to be a good one at the sale. How much is the price of these bags of sweets?” He paid the price and began to eat the delicious candy. All that afternoon you could see him buying and then wandering off to eat. When he had gone I asked a person standing near, who this queer-looking man was. He replied that it was renowned Odysseus of Ithaca who had landed here on his journey homeward. CHARLES HALLONQUIST. BRASS BAND. Upper Row, left to right — Bert Howard, Orville Wright, Edward Osborn. El- den Colby, Walter Paroni, Earle Wright, Charlie Biddle. Lower Row, left to right — Bartle Rolph, Frank Fowder, Girard Gray, Wallace Schort, Walter Sissons, Melvin Broderick. Parker Hall. MAXDOLIX CLUB. Left to right — Edward Osborne, Parker Hall, John Sammi. Bradley Wil- liams, Randolph A ' ickerson. THE TARGET 23 ORCHESTRA. Miss Ellerhorst (Leader). Upper Row, left to right — Hamilton Howells, Lucile Gignoux, Herbert Phil- lipps, Ronald MacDonald, Roy Bateman, Robert Nolan, Albert Bunker, Herschel Jessup, Laurinne Mattern. Middle Row, left to right — Audrey Davies, Constance Lutgen, Helen James, Merle Lillie, Alice Thomas, Pauline Wilkinson. Lower Row. left to right — Bartle Role 1 ' Kenneth Aruntzen, Elliott Ponting Robert Saylor, Donald Wright, Clifford Mayback, Frank Fowden. THE MUSICAL CLUBS. Our school Orchestra, assisted by the Mandolin and Guitar Club and Brass Band, is going to give a concert. No definite time has been set but it will probably take place about the 24th of May, in the evening. An after- noon concert may be given for those who do not wish to attend the even- ing performance. A small charge will be made. Plan to come. The Orchestra played at the Long- fellow School on May 9th, the day of their candy sale, and the Brass Band was heard at the Hawthorne School on May 10th when a bazaar was held. The Mandolin Club has been doing excellent work at their after-school practices Two of the members, John Sammi and Ormsby Donough, who are now attending High School, have never left it and have added much to its strength. Wanted — By Arthur Wilde and Don- ald Crystal, a first-class scrubbing brush which may frequently be ap- plied to damaged books. r H E TARGET 24 A THREE-PARTY LINE CONVERSA- TION. “Hello! Is this you Mrs. Von Holt- on?” “Yes.” “Could you give me the recipe for the cookies which were explained at the last of the demonstrations of the ‘Domestic Economy Club’? I have misplaced mine.” “Why certainly! Just a moment. “Hello! Are you ready?” “Yes.” “All right — two cups of flour — ” “Sifted?” “Yes, two and one — ” But a third voice broke into the con- versation. — “Piedmont 3284, please.” “Line busy — ” came from both ends of the line. “Well! two and one-half tablespoon- fuls baking powder, one cup of milk— “Piedmont 3284, please, without de- lay.” “Just one moment, please.” “Hello! Have you one cup of milk?” “Yes.” “Butter the size of an egg, just, about one and one-half cups of sugar — ” “Well I certainly do wish you ladies would let me have the ’phone, one moment, — mine is a matter of busi- ness.” “Now let me repeat; two cups of flour, two and one-half tablespoonfus baking powder, one cup of milk, but- ter the size of an egg, about one and one-half cups of sugar, allspice and ginger to taste. Cook as drop bis- cuits.” “Well, when the cookies are baked, ladies, will you please let me have the use of the ’phone?” KATHERINE McINTYRE. THE JAPANESE NEW YEAR. The Japanese New Year is like our Christmas. The streets and alleys are all decorated with lanterns, bamboo and pine. On each side of every door are several sta lks of bamboo with leaves on them and a branch of pine. Of course all these things are symbol- ical. Along the streets are little booths where all sorts of small trinkets, can- dies and cakes are sold. Many of the old superstitions are still believed by some of the people. P ' or instance, that the women must not dress their hair on New Year ' s day, they must not sweep, and if they go to sleep before midnight their hair will turn white. The priests go around from house to house scattering dried beans, and saying prayers to drive out the evil spirits, sa that there will not be any in the next year. The New Year’s festivals last four or five days. During this time the people eat mochi, a sort of uncooked bread. It is a luxury to them as plum-pud- ding it to us. On New Year’s the Japanese chil- dren get out their battle door and shuttle cock, even the men and women play with them. The decorations are usually left after New Year’s about a week. When it is taken down, the town looks most differn and it is not quite so picturesque. HAMILTON HOWELLS. THE BIRD. A bird sang a song in a tree, And its notes sounded happy and free; In a school-room close by Did a poor student sigh, Won ' t you come and change places with me?” MINNIE INGHAM. THE TA R G E T 25 A BROOK. Below me lay a wandering stream, Winding its way along, Hemmed on both sides by green-robed hills, As it dreamily sang its song. Along over pebbles and rocks it flowed, Gently inviting us bide To freely partake fo its nectar sweet From the shimmering, limpid tide. And, as I gazed from my mossj r bank Into the clear, cool brook, Reflected I saw a gay bob-o-link, Just as a drink he took. KATHLEEN AGNEW. THE SACRIFICE. Joe Farley was walking toward the aviation grounds wondering whether he would get a Lozier” or a Nation- al” with the prize he was going to win that afternoon. His step was light and eager, for he was confident of gaining the Millville race and five thou- sand dollars, the victor’s reward. He certainly had the swiftest machine on the grounds and everyone knew he was an experienced aviator. At the field he stopped for min- ute at Fred Burnham ' s “hangar.” Burnham was the son of a blacksmith who had become interested in “bird tactics” and read all he could on the subject. He had made a frame, they earned and borrowed enough m oney with which to buy a motor. Farley, however, had been backed by a mil- lionaire father, who had supplied him with the necessary funds. As he left the “hangar” he heard Burnham say, “If I don ' t win that race I’m ruined.” Well, I guess he ' s ruined,” silently commented Farley as he strode away. The race was scheduled for 2 oclock and went off on time. Farley, though not exerting his motor to its fullest capacity, soon got the lead and far outdistanced all the “birdmen” ex- cept Burnham, who nad kept near him and was now less than a hundred yards behind. So they raced on, and ere long sighted the goal. Both were urging their machines to the highest limit and Farley was gradually draw- ing away from his opponent. “I guess it will be a ‘Lozier, thought Farley. But Burnham’s re- mark of the morning came to him. “Look what he has to lose compared with me ! ” As the thought flashed through his mind, with a quick impulse he shut off his engine and started to glide to the field. But his generosity was fatal to him. A puff of wind tipped his planes and he fell to the earth. So, while Burn- ham crossed the goal to the cheers of the crowd, who were unconscious of the tragedy then being performed, Joe Farley, crushed and bleeding under the wreck of his aeroplane, breathed his last — a martyr to an ill-timed sac- rifice. GREGORY HARRIER. The “Target” wishes, in behalf of the school, to comment upon the good work done by the musical orgaiza- tions. Much credit is due Miss Eller- horst, their leader, for her untiring ef- forts, in and out of school hours, which have resulted so successfully. It is with pleasure that we anticipate the concert to be giver by our school musicians and we knov it will be a success. Miss Fisher — “Who painted the An- gelus?” Arthur Wilde, misunderstanding — “The man with the hoe.” “TARGE T” STAFF. Upper Row. left to right — Elliott Cook, Isidoro Cereghino, Donald Morris, Mr. Biedenbach, Anthony Folger, Raymond Muenter, Norman Heinz, Randolph Nickerson. Lower Row, left to right — Dorothy Critzer, Katherine Stone, Catherine Dela- mere, Genevieve Ocheltree, Laurinne Mattern, Miss Christy, May Dor- nin, Helen Marr, Corinne Painter, Margaret Geary. Laurinne Mattern Editor-in-Chief Isidoro Cereghino, Anthony Folger, Randolph Nickerson Managers Mr. Biedenbach and Miss Christy Advisory Board Mr. Biedenbach, the students wish in the “Target to express their ap- preciation for all that you have done for McKinley School. When you first came here, eleven years ago, you were principal of what was known as the Dwight Way School, one insignificant in every way. You allowed the people of that school to express themselves two or three times a term as they would, in a school paper, called the “Target.” This brought out the liter- ary instincts of the pupils and gave them much pleasure. Then, not con- sidering that enough for the student body, you had a self-government plan started which united all the interests of the pupils in the eight grades. This made us known throughout the coun- try, and people came to see the work- ing of this miniature city. The plan of government proved successful and, when the ninth grades were added, it was found to be still more beneficial, owing to your interest and splendid management. You promoted the unity and good spirit of the student body by the large assembly meetings which are such a source of pleasure and in- spiration, and we heartily thank you for them. But words can ill express all you have done for us. Our School, now called the McKin- ley Lower High School, is one of which we and our city may be justly proud, due to our principal ' s enthu- siastic and able leadership. Mr. Bied- enback, our friend, owing to your un- tiring and efficient efforts, memories of “McKinley” will long be cherished. THE TARGET 27 THE LARK. Hark! Hark! the lark is singing this morn, O list to his cheerful song, It sounds like a flute in the morning breeze, As the melody floats along. He rises from the meadow green. And warbling as he soars. He wakes a voice within, to thank Our God for blessings poured. Long may those noble notes be heard, For sorrow, grief and pain. Will vanish then, when the lark pours forth His notes like summer rain. HELEN SAYLOR. THE NIGHT OPERATOR ' S STORY. As the night operator drew near the circle around the stove in the waiting room, he was received with chorus of “Give us a story, Fred.” “All right, I will tell you of an ex- perience I had on the old ‘B. and S.’ ” “I had been on the railroad only a short time and was still pretty green. As it had been snowing heavily, mak- ing little traffic, I was much surprised to receive, at nine o’clock one cold, bleak night, an order to hold a freight train at my station to allow a fast train to pass. It was no fan turning- out in the cold, and I was in a hurry to get back to my warm room. In my hurry I grabbed a white lantern in- stead of a red one. A few minutes later, the freight rumbled through the station, the engi- neer seeing the white light. I was stunned, but I knew I must stop the train, and ran after it. I managed to grab the hand rail of the caboose, but the train gave a sudden jerk, and I was dragged several hundred yards before I could pull myself up on the plaform. I put up my hand to jerk the air-cord, when I remembered there was no such thing on freight trains. 1 must walk over the cars, as there was no one in the caboose. The tops of the cars were very slippery and it was with the greatest difficulty that I kept my footing. At one time I lost it but I managed somehow to keep on. But the worst was to come. I had to jump from a box to a flat car. As I jumped, the train hit a curve and I landed on my back. I was senseless for five or ten minutes. A little later, I reached the engine and told the engineer my story. He stopped the train and none too soon for the “flyer” appeared a little while afterwards. We had to back to my station as there was no switch and the passenger train was already five hours late.” RICHARD HISCOX. A VISIT TO THE NEVADA STATE PRISON. While in Nevada, I visited the State Prison which is in Carson. I think it is one of the best managed prisons that I know of. There was hardly a man in the cells of the prison. Most Oi them were out working either on farms, or repairing roads. When you passed them on the road you would never dream that they were convicts. They wore no stripes and they did not have a guard. They had a fore- man, but he too was a convict. Once a tragic but humorous thing occurred. A horse and buggy with two men in it, fell over a precipice near the place where the convicts were working. Dropping their picks and shovels, the men rushed to their aid, and succeed- ed in dragging the horse and buggy back to the road. When all was in or- der again, the men, not knowing that they had been helped by convicts, of- 28 r H E TARGET fered whiskey in payment. But the reply was, “No, thank you, we won ' t take it. Besides, we are convicts.” With that the men whipped up their horse and you couldn’t see anything for dust. Once a convict went to the warden and said, “Here are a hundred opium pills which I have been selling for a dollar a piece. I can’t do it now. You are giving us the square deal and I want to give you the square deal.” DONALD WRIGHT. THE BORING OF A TUNNEL. The Oakland Antioch Railway Com- pany is building a tunnel five miles from Berkeley. Work was begun on it a year ago. This tunnel is almost a mile long, and fifteen feet wide. An electric drill is used to bore the rock and earth, and the men bore on an average of five to ten feet per day. The earth is carried out by an elec- tric truck ten feet long, and five feet wide; the power to run this, and the other machinery being from large wires which cross the hills. On the other side of the tunnel there is a steam locomotive, which will pull ten cars loaded with rock. The rock and earth taken out of the tunnel, is dumped along the track where there are bridges and low places. The men working in the tunnel, would be unable to work if they did not have air pumped into where they are working, so they have a motor in- side the entrance which pumps the air through pipes, such as we have m the school rooms. Sometimes the flow of water is so great that the men cannot work. They wear boots, because there is always a fool or so of water to work in. In order to make the men work faster, the company pays them a cer- tain amount for every extra foot they bore out. They have bored about a thousand feet altogether. WALTER PARONI. SPRING ' S AWAKENING. Awake! Arise! for merry Spring has come. The earth has slumbered neath her snowy gown. For weeks the feathered songsters have been dumb, But now, their voices o’er the land resound. The daffodil in regal yellow crown. The blossoms bursting forth in full array. The pussy-willow with her furry down, Are harbingers of Spring, and so we may Rejoice and sing our lay, “All hail to Spring today!” ELEANOR LUX. THE INDIAN MAIDEN. The day had been cloudless, and as the sun sank, the landscape was soft ened by the long shadows of evening. The rays of the sun lingered tenderly on the towering range of mountains which were silhouetted against the glowing sky. In the glow, Tamalpais becomes a fairy mountain, bathed in a flood of amethyst light, which, as the shadows deepen, becomes violet. At its fcot lies the bay, a sapphire blue, reflecting the everchanging sky, and the railroad winding up the moun- tain side, is a narrow ribbon, which shines like silver in the twilight. Slowly the light dies, mist creeps in from the sleeping sea, and the rugged features of the mountain be- come softened in the afterglow. Through the ever-deepening twilight the fairy range becomes the majestic form of an Indian maiden, and an old tradition comes to mind. 29 THE Vk hen the White Man first came to this enchanted region, seeing the gold- en sunshine, and fertile valleys, he longed to possess it. The Tamal Indians had looked with scorn upon the White Man, for well they remembered the prophecy of the Guardian Spirit: “White Man, there shall be eternal war between me and thee.” One morning, at dawn, the White Man approached the Indian village, carrying a deathdealing weapon. The warriors saw his approach, sang their wild and woeful war song and arrayed themselves for battle. The Indians fought like demons, but the cunning of the White Man’s terrible weapons over- came their giant strength. Their power was destroyed; they were driven into exile, and Yuama, their princess, was taken captive by the White Man. Six moons passed, and the winter rains descended in torrents from the mountains. Winter slowly passed away. The thousand sounds and scents of spring at last waked the world. In the meantime, Yuama grew hop«- less. Her former occupations were abandoned, her weaving lay entan- gled, the flowers and notes of birds were unheeded. One summer night when all nature slept, the sky suddenly became over- cast. The wind roared through the trees. The mountains were wraped in gloom. Thunder echoed and re-echoed through their many ravines, ' which seemed peopled with demons of the un- der world. Lig htning split the rocks and hurled them to the ravines below. In a moment all became silent. The moon reappeared, revealing a great change in the crest of the mountain range. Where was formerly a con- fused mass of boulders and earth was now the gigantic statute of a prostrate TARGET Indian maiden, with her face upturned. The Great Spirit had taken her soul and transformed her body into a mem- orial to the greatness of her tribe. And there she lies to this day, guard- ing the mountain, and beseeching the Great Spirit to gather the scattered chieftains, and restore them to their beloved Tamalpais. MARY RITSON. A CAPTAIN BOLD. There was a lad of tender years. And he wished to go to sea; He bade farewell to friends so dear, And sailed to Germany. For a long time everything went well. And he was the captain bold; The crew obeyed his every word, And did as they were told. But on one black and stormy night The ship rocked to and fro. The lights went out and all was dark, And the captain was full of woe. The captain he let out a yell, “Oh, mamma, come to me. Mamma she rescued ship and all Out of the stormy sea. A rocking chair was the seabound ship, The captain a boy of three; Tin soldiers were his brave, bold crew, And a sheet was thes tormy sea. KATHRYN COOK. Genevieve Ocheltree, translating in Latin — “With the highest possible de- gree of swiftness, Neptune dispersed the clouds.” If Teddy Merrill is a poor penman, how can Donald Wright? 30 r H E TARGET OF IMPORTANCE. The friends and acquaintances of Mr. Aubrey Irwin are condoling with him for the cause which necessitates the departure of Miss Ocheltree from McKinley Introductory High School, Berkeley. REPLY. Mr. Aubrey Irwin thanks his friends for their kindness, and states that nothing but the lack of carfare keeps him from joining Miss O. in the South. Wanted by Seventh Grade “Extra English Class ' ’ — a “hero” for Victor March’s play; a “heroine” for William Forbes’ hero; a “villian” for Richard Erving; some trained ‘wolves’ for Harry Moore ' s “Third Act,” and a “whole plot” for Eugene Lafferty and Alfred Curran. Miss Fisher, in English — “No class, this line is not hexamter, it is tetra — who can finish it? Dorothy Clarke — “Tetrazzini.” Miss Kelsey — “Carrie, what was Trajan ' s column?” Carrie Templeton — “Wasn’t it a building?” Mr. Smith, in History class, explain- ing the movements of the earth, moon, and sun — Hold up that book, it is the sun.” Mr. Cobert (holding the window stick) to Lee Church who is reciting badly — “Most teachers would throw this at you.” Margaret Geary, concluding her wonderful tale of the Greek soldier — “and they died happily ever after.” THE TARGET 31 Evelyn Golly, coming to school Smiles of all kinds and sizes may be without a hat one windy day— “Good- purchased from Ruth Robinson at very ness, my hair looks as if I slept in it reasonable rates, last night!” A large auction sale is to be held A concluding sentence in Ida Mul- i n the near future whereat Grace lei s book review Ihe book was Becker will dispose of some of her ceitainly enjoyed by me, a simple and unbounded history knowledge, sad little volume. Mr. Cobert, in Latin, to Ernest Sad- ler who is saying, “mon,” — “Don’t stop to ‘moan’ so much. Now don’t put that in the ‘Target.’ ” John Muldoon, in English — “Sounds of music were stealing from open castanets.” (Casements). Edyth Farley, appearing at the school gate early one morning and surveying the pupils in the yard, “Any one here?” Raymond Muenter, in History — “The Goths came down into Italy with their dogs and flies.” Miss Kelsey — “Aubry, who was Agricola?” (referring to the great general). Aubry Irwin — “Farmer.” ADVERTISEMENTS. Arthur Wilde has a fine species of crabs to present before the public which will aid one and all toward “crabbing.” Wanted — By Dorothy Clarke, some- thing thrilling. Lost, strayed or stolen — History knowledge of great value. Finder please notify Hazel Thompson. A great reward is offered. Wanted — A pair of normal-sized feet for Walter Snook. For rent — A portion of my brain. History or English tenants preferred. Apply to Edith Farley, Room 4. Wanted — By Carrie Templeton, a trap, guaranteed to hold rats. Wanted — By Donald Crystal, a pair of rubber heels. Anyone wishing to procure an ex- tra amount of history knowledge may apply to Teresa Hihn. Wanted — Looking glasses of all sizes. Apply to Donna Ellen, Room 2. For every example under the sun There is an answer, or there is none. If there be one, try to find it; If there be none, never mind it. A small girl, having heard of the marriage of a friend to a very wealthy gentleman, remarked consolingly, “Never mind, mother, perhaps you’ll get a millionaire next time.” If Yale lost one of her crew, would Cornelius Rowe? Why can’t Miles elope? Miles Cant- elope, because it is too far. How far? Miles. 32 THE T Mr. Cobert, in Latin — “Donald, what is ‘cni’ in this sentence?” Silence from Donald. Mr. Cobert— “Well, Grace.” Grace — “Dative of possession.” Donald Crystal — “Oh, I knew that once.” Mr. Smith, in algebra — “When you are adding unlike signs you subtract the larger from the greater.” Teacher in physiology class —“Now, does anyone want to ask any questions about what we’ve been studying?” Small boy, with a perplexed face — “Yes, mum; what part of the cow is the cowcumber?” Miss Young, in English class — “Give me the name of an animal that scratches.” Small boy, with hand waving wildly in the air — “A horse.” A four-year-old, acting the part of Cupid at a Valentine party, was saucy to one of the guests. As her mother led her up the stairs, the child sobbed out, “I didn ' t know that Cupids got spanked.” Meriam McCreary — “Miss Smith, is that a coast city you designated?” Miss Smith — “No, my dear, it is about a quarter of an inch from the coast.” Miss Fisher, passing out seating- cards for chorus — “You all know how to count, don’t you?” Class — “No, ma’am.” A man went into the “Gazette” of- fice and asked for a paper for a week back. “Papers aren’t good for a weak back,” was the answer. “Use a mus- ARGET DIPPYD1LS. Would Aileen Treat? No, but Harry Wood. If a proclamation against talking in school was brought up, would Ha- zelton Ensign it? If Robinson Crusoe didn’t get a shave for five yers, is Gregory Har- rier? If Hamilton Howells, Will Doris Hol- ler? The boys and girls of our school city have been having some pretty bad “court” cases lately. FAREWELL TO THE HIGH NINTH GRADE. I. The time has come to bid farewell To power, sovereignty and rule! Lay down your scepter, doff your crown, Oh, mightiest grade in all the school! II. The fatal day is close at hand, When you your kingdom then will leave. And when to Berkeley High you go, Your powers will end, you may be- lieve! III. Once there, a freshman you will be, — The smallest thing in mortal know- ledge. There, you will cease to “run affairs,” And be as green as spring-time foliage. IV. From off your “high, white pinnacle,” You’ll take a mighty fall! So, be as glorious as you can Until you leave us all! FRANCES HYLAND.