Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

Page 32 text:

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.

Page 31 text:

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-

Page 33 text:

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?