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Page 29 text:
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THE TARGET 27 of Bernice Peiser. Kaarlo Ponsi will doubtless miss the joy of depositing notes so skil- fully under a yellow s heet on the instructor’s desk in Room 3 for his boon companon. Pickles Horstmann, hut he will pass on the privilege of using the same mail box to Gladys Alexander. Kenneth, (Frequently known as Sherrill) Connor bequeaths his aff- able, loq uacious manner to Helen Street. Alma Smith advises Evelyn Mitchel to keep up to date the portfolio of the very latest news, just off the bat, entrusted to her charge. Mc- Kinley’s news-agency will thrive un- der your leadership, Evelyn, if you keep up the pace already set. Ethel Quick is no longer to be en- vied, for the tons of knowledge so securely packed in algebra cells have been freighted to Roy Converse’s dome. Edith Barry’s “childish treble” is to be the property of Herbert Daube. Josephine (Jibbs’ love for the car- dinal can not be disputed, but all her cherished posessions of that hue must be passed over to Ruth Bowen. Ruth Gompertz, our faithful editor finds the pressure of duties and tresses so burdensome that the bur- den must be lightened; hence a portion of the “Medusa” locks fall to the share of Willa Middlehoff. Josephine Halverson relinquishes all claims to her black and white checked coat for the convenience Fannie McHenry’s smile, warranted to wear well and bring joy to the hearts of all solicitors for pictures, “Target” subscriptions, etc., is to be placed at the disposal of lone Crayne. Owen Onions Schloss leaves his English book well padded with defi- nitions and one perfectly good “Over- land” to Jack Holman. Frances Tash has a first class memory, and we defy you to deny the fact, which is to become the much- needed property of Jimmie Grace Mills. Geraldine Quillinan acknowledges with sincere thanks the receipt of Frances Stone’s shy and unobtrusive manner. Dorothy Sawyer gladly disposes of a surplus stock of “Classic Myths” knowledge for the edification of Beulah Butler. One red sweater is Doris Sawyer’s gift to Marjorie Herrman. Louise Thatcher’s motto, “To be seen and not heard” is to be the prize of William Lefty Forman. (Signed) THE DECEMBER CLASS OF NINETEEN FOURTEEN. o A GREAT BATTLE. “I remember in the spring of 18 5, what a great battle we had. Old Colonel Simpson led our forces,” said Perkins, an old story-teller seating himself in a chair. “Did you fight on the Northern or Southern side?” I asked, forgetting that the Civil War was over years before this battle occurred. But I wanted to know the pain uiars of this engagement. “Neither,” was his quick reply, as he turned a blank face toward me. I began to think of what war it was and finally gave it up as I did not know of any during 1895. “We had large poles to knock them down, glue to paint the bottom of the trees, with, and spraying ma- chines. We went out to Jim Thomp- son’s apple orchard where the enemy was the thickest. We soon had all of them wiped out of his place. We then went to all the farms within a radius of fifteen miles of the town and in two days there was not a foe near Pumkinville,” he proudly ex- claimed. I had been thinking about what kind of an enemy would fight in trees and would have to be knocked down with poles, sprayed and have the trees glued which would kill them quickly. Probably they were fighting monkeys but then there were none in this country. Then I con- cluded they were fighting Indians. “How many did you kill?” I asked. “Oh, we must have got a few mil- lions,” replied Perkins easily. “A few millions!” I exclaimed. “Why. there are hardly that many Indians in the United States. Who was their leader. Sitting Bull?” Though on second thought I knew he had been dead sometime. “See here, sonny, what are you talking about?” Perkins asked me. “Why, about that terrible battle you had with the Indians in which they lost so many men.”
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Page 28 text:
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26 THE TARGET Anna Edgar gives by this testa- ment her diffidence and the art of coyly balancing curls, to Annabel Gaw. Eleanor Livingston wills her love for Overland automobiles, as she re- peatedly states that she has had many pleasant rides in them, to Frances Block. Philip Calkins turns over for “Whiskey” Porter’s use that persist- ent attack of “frog-in-the-throat.” He wishes to impart to Wescott the knowledge that his great fond- ness for athletics has resulted in the noticeable increase of his stature. Much to the relief of the awed High Ninth Class, Rev. Henry Hawk- shaw Thomas has decided to be- queath a portion of his dignity, and his graceful movements of speed, to Sam Scotchie McRae. Victor Victorious Bigelow, our social lion, leaves his “Ford” and his extensive correspondence, as he in- tends to start a new set when he reaches B. H. S., to Kenneth Graham. Molly Brant Rankin will now permit Soinnus, (God of Sleep) to exert his powers over Ralph Hagin, during all periods of the day except noon hour, which he reserves for strolls around the block. Florine Wurkheim passes on with deep regret, because it is her moth- er’s, that filmy, green waist, to Em- my Lou Noble. Those yellow curls of Charles Bid- dle and his position as Miss Eller- horst’s official mesenger, must go to Leslie Alexander. Perhaps you did not know that Johannes Magis Moore has become a musician of note, and so happily anticipates playing at recitals, that in the future he knows that Muriel Ditzler will enjoy these opportunities. Margaret Newsom bequeaths a por- tion of her self-possession and a goodly supply of first sections to Irene Paret. Mabel Johnson unwillingly loses some of her extra pounds and ounces to the advantage of Muriel Oakshott. Her French giggle is donated to Minnie Chan. Edith Bryant, for the sake of the Low Ninth spelling average, gives bv testament her spelling powers to George Bliss for his exclusive use. Myrta Smith leaves her occupation as a Latin whiz to Evwyn Anthony. Connie Lutgen leaves her sweet calm smile and her motto, “Silence is golden,” to Burt Babcock. Charles Chick Woodworth dedi- cates his fly and mosquito knowledge to Albert Flea Raymond. Libby Burke says, “I’ll never tell,” but leaves a supply of “spearmint” and the privilege of obtaining it at wholesale rates, to Ruth Sorrick. Grace Benkers leaves her pencil box and contents to Lester Browning. Gertrude Holland passes on her assumed right to dine during the seventh period, and the pleasure of being conveniently absent from Eng- lish recitations, to Phyllis McIntosh. Frances McConlogue lovingly be- queaths to Gertrude Haunt that pink dress of which she is so fond but she seems already to have given a portion of her profuse blushes, and timidity in Latin class to that maid. “Bee” Miller bequeaths her crystal watch imported from Switzerland to Alice Wittenburg. Isabelle Warwick reluctantly leaves her w ' andering comb to Pearson Hig- gins whose long roaming locks fre- quently need attention. Harriet Guy relinquishes her fairy- like interpretation of the “Eloise Gavotte,” for Dorothy Ellerhorst’s benefit. Claire Kennedy leaves a baker’s dozen freckles to Morgan Cox, other- wise known as, “Red,” and a curl or two, together with her Latin squeak, to Blake Curly. Florence Hazen leaves her Paderew- ski talent, and her novel ideas on the subject of hair dressing to Helen Ingham. Alfredus Sub Colie (Underhill) reluctantly and with many a long last lingering look leaves his first signs of budding manhood, his long pants, to Donald Kitzmiller but re- fuses to part with a new privilege which came with them, that of es- corting a fair young damsel to school. Wilbur Boots Booth, that silver- tongued orator, disposes of his fluen- cy of speech, so noticeable in Eng- lish, as a boon for Elva Busch, but yields his stock of motorcycle knowl- edge to Mr. Beardsley. Fuzzy Howard Moore bequeaths his hilarious disposition as indented by his spontaneous “Puck” giggle, to Lillian McHoul.
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Page 30 text:
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28 T H E T A K G E T “Huh! I never fought an Indian in my life,” he said. “Well then who was Colonel Simp- son?” I asked quickly. “He is an old farmer who knows all about pests, and this war I re- lated is about the time we drove the horned caterpillars out of our orchards.” DONALD KITZMILLER. SEVEN LONG YEARS. There was a maiden sweet and fair, A hey down, down, adown. Whose heart was very, very, sair, All for her true love in Islingtown. Her true love he was a gallant knight. As brave as brave might be. But he went forth into the night. And to Islington ne’er returned he. ’Tis seven long years since he’s been gone, ’Tis seven long years this day, ’Tis seven long years since in Lover’s Lane, He promised to love me for aye. O, false were his vows, as false as could be, When he promised those kind words that day, But, now he lies ’neath yon green- wood tree. To sleep for aye and aye. MARJORIE MOORE. o- MARY’S LITTLE CYCLE CAR. Mary had a cycle car. As red as any beet; And every time she took it out. They heard the noise in Crete. It speeded up the road one day. Which was against the law; When for the fine the judges asked — She had to ask her paw. A CHANCE If good old Santa Claus forgets The things you long for most. Cheer up and suffer no regrets — There’s still the parcel post. WILLIAM BOONE. AN ALASKAN DOG RACE. A large crowd was collected in front of “Stagger Inn,” Dawson’s most frequented place of amusement. It was ' the morning of the great “All Alaskan sweep stakes.” The various dog teams were being made ready for the early morning start. The race began at Dawson and ended at Candle, requiring at least five days for the trip. There were five entries lined up, impatient for the report of the start- er’s gun. One of these teams was driven by Sandy McGee, the most popular man in Dawson and best dog driver in America. Four of the dog teams were composed of six dogs while Sandy had only five hitched to the sled. The sixth dog was to be found on the sled. His name was Jack and he was one of the best sled dogs in the north country and had remarkable strength and endurance. At last the shot was fired and off went the teams amid the shouts of the onlookers. On and on they went. Two sleds soon began to gain. One of them was that of Sandy. For two whole days these teams kept neck and neck, only stopping for food, but still Jack rode proudly on the sled. On the fourth day, Sandy’s rival began to gain but still the dog on the sled was not used. The fifth day came out with Sandy half a mile in the rear but he followed doggedly with his tired team. Now in the distance gleamed the white tents and shacks of Candle. Sandy halted his team, fed and patted them, and said to Jack, “Now, old man, it’s your turn. Do your best.” Jack was harnessed with the exhausted dogs. He barked and frisked and pulled at the tugs until the order to “push on” was given. Jack’s spirit seemed to inspire his team mates and they pulled man- fully for two hours and succeeded in overtaking the leading team. They were now about ten miles from Candle and all the dogs but Jack were nigh exhausted. He, with all his strength, pulled dogs and sled the last ten miles and reached the goal, two minuits in advance of the- rival team! HOWARD IMOORE. o
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