Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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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.

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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-

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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)