Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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14 THE TARGET between tightly clenched teeth.“lf you ate not out of here then I will put you out.” Deliberately the tramp stepped up and sat in my chair. He glared at me and I at him. “The minute is up, sir, Will you go or not?” “I’ll stay,” was the answer. Instantly oft came my coat. The tramp had not even removed his slouch hat and, for a starter, with a quick sweep of my hand I sent his hat into the far corner on the floor. “You little insignificant rat, take that,” he roared, and leaping on both feet, his clenched right hand shot forth with terrific force, but I was spry and dodged it with ease. I was no match for him as he was 6 ft. - 2. anyway and I only 5 ft. — 7. We locked together in each other’s arms and struggled for supremacy. At first he hushed me nearer and nearer the window, but in wrestling as in all other sports you need wind; he was winded. Finally just abreast the door, the tramp was thrown on his knees. In an instant I had the door thrown open and throwing myself against the culprit, I sent him out. Rushing across the floor, I picked up his headpiece and sent it sailing after him, calling out, “come back when you want another dime, won’t you?” “Which boy will be good enough to get me a cup of water?” I asked as I again took the platform and donned my coat, breathless and well given out. Big Bill Davis was on his feet in an instant. “I will, sir,” he called and in passing the blackboard he stooped and picked up the missile he had thrown and tossed it out the window. Upon returning with the tin cup of water he looked me squarely in the face and said. ' Tm glad you woo, I be honestly. You ain’t no milksop, you aint.” Then turning to his band he called out. “say kids let’s give the schoolmaster three times three and a tiger, he’s all right.” RUFUS .JOHNSON. o Mr. Cobert explaining a Latin con- struction; “When I’m eating pie. I’m happy.” CHRISTMAS CHEER. Darkness covered all the world. When suddenly a sound was heard; A sound that gladdened every ear. Was echoed from afar and near. “Rejoice! “rejoice!” it seemed to say, “Rejoice! rejoice! ’tis Christmas day.” ness. Now, all was changed from woe and sadness, The world seemed clothed in peace and gladness. GERALDINE QUILLINAN. o THE TREASURE. There is a certain hill region in California which is noted as the haunt of robbers in early days. In this region are many tunnels to which the robbers are supposed to have brought their loot and buried it. Many have tried to find their treas- ures and some poor people have become suddenly and mysteriously rich. At any rate, to the younger members of this community the treasures are realitites, to the older, merely jokes. One day, as some boys were play- ing cross-tag, the one who was being chased was crossed, and, in looking back, stumbled and fell. His head bumped on something hard which felt like wood, and on close examination it proved to be a trap-door. All excitement, he pulled it up, and the light feebly disclosed a badly con- structed staircase. He looked around and seeing that the boys had not yet noticed him, he slowly descended the stairs. When he was almost at the bottom his foot slipped and he fell, and was surrounded on all sides, to the right and to the left of him by — mushrooms. His treasure was but mushrooms, and treasure cave a mushroom tunnel, the trap-door of which had been covered with sod by a wise owner. NOEL MORROW. o — A CHRISTMAS WISH FOR YOU. May the friends you love so dear. Round about you gather near. Make your Christmas day so bright That your heart glows with delight. MINNIE CHAN.

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THE TARGET 13 MANDOLIN CLUB. Left to right, Lawson Poss, Allen Hargear, Fred Edinger, Standish Donogh, Amelia Bernard, Elizabeth Mclndoe, Tom McGuire. the name, John P. Bailey, Boston, Mass., on the register. I decided to see him for I was mighty lonesome. I knocked at Room 36 and in res- ponse to my knock a tall muscular fellow seized my hand. 1 told him that I had conesnted to take the school and I wished now 1 had not. He agreed to help me out of my troubles. At eight-forty I went to the Turn- pike”, as the school was called, and prepared for the day. At nine o’clock when 1 rapped for order, the pupils took their seats. A trustee introduced me, put the school on its nonor and then took his way homeward. Along the back row of seats were the boys, and it did not take me long to know that trouble was brew- ing. Thinking it best to know the names of my charges, 1 had a girl go to the blackboard and place the names according to the seating. Suddenly I saw a hand go up in the room and a large spitball splash upon the blackboard. The battle was on and I knew it. The thrower was the largest boy in the school. Bill Davis. I ordered him to come and pick up the missile and toss it out the window. He did not budge. I told him he had just one minute in which to act and after that I would force him to do it. Still he sat motionless, sullen and stubborn-looking. Thirty seconds” I called, and in truth it was a tense minute in the schoolroom. Just then the outer door flew open with a bang, and in stalked a big, burly, disreputable-looking hobo. Hello, teacher, gimme a dime, will you?” he shouted as he advanced towards me. Get out of here,” I commanded angrily. Fve got no dime for you. You are interrupting our school work. Get out. 1 say.” Don ' t get too gay, little chap,” he returned insolently, shaking a huge, clenched fist in my face. “You gi- mme ten cents, else something’ll happen here.” T will give you just one minute to leave this room,” I vowed firmly

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THE TARGET 15 ORCHESTRA. Upper row, left to right: Arthur Gunderson, Robert Edgar, Harold Woolsey, Robert McCullough, George Gilchrist, Lucian Eastland, Jean Waste, Miss Ellerhorst (conductor). Second row, left to right: Frances Phillips, Constance Lutgen, Dorothy Sawyer, Walter St. John, Victor Bigelow, Blanche Tomaire, Mildred La ird,- Kenneth Graham, Eleanor Weber, Charles Whitworth. Lower row, left to right: Ruth Scotford, Ashley Hill, Lawrence Kett, Sherrill Conner, Edward Derby, Edward Borgstrom, Marjorie Bond. FOOL’S GOLD. The room, richly hung, heavy in its richness, seemed to extend on all sides to black voids, limitless spaces. The half glow of the nurse’s night light seemed aeons of distance away, the nurse — a creature of another world. The old man felt utterly a- lone in a black nothingness on a big four-poster bed. He started to call, but shut his eyes with the help- lessness of the very ill. He opened them again to find the space before him filled with a hard, dazzling light, blackening the dark- ness round. Floating in the radiance, appeared to be a flaming sword, but as he looked, clammy with fear, he saw it become a woman, dressed as the Greek Gods, but her girdle twined of moving, hissing snakes. Her eyes were bright and wild, and her left breast, — her heart, was gone. “Who comes?” the old man breathed so still his breath, it seemed but a thought. “Gold!” screamed the specter, and yet it seemed to make no sound. “Gold! Know you me not? I am that for which you have toiled, that for which you have lived, that for which you have wasted, crushed, de- stroyed all that was good in your life, — happiness, respect, love!” “No, no!” the old man whispered. “Such loyalty can but earn its just rewards. — Come! ” She held out glittering arms, the snakes, writhing upwards, fastened themselves on the old man’s throat. “Celia— my wife,” the old man panted, “my children, — help!” “Gone, all gone,” the specter re- plied, “deserted for me.”