Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

Text from Pages 1 - 48 of the 1915 volume:

McKinley Intermediate High School, Berkeley VOL XXIII. MY IMPRESSION OF THE FAIR. The Fair is fine If not sublime, The towers are very stately, The statutes tall along the wall 1 admire very greatly. The colors bright Are changed at night By the dazzling search-light ' s gleam; The fountain ' s spray Casts forth a ray Of wondrous color scheme. EDITH .SHAW. THE FAIRIES OF THE JEWELED CITY. One beautiful, warm evening a lit- tle group of fairies was seated on one of the great arches at the Exposition, looking down at the gay scene below them. They had finished their work of lighting the towers, arches and avenues with many colored lights, and were now surveying their work with satisfaction. Isn ' t it the most beautiful Exposi- tion that there ever was? asked a tinj- fairy from the East, Of course it is, answered a Cali- fornia fairy. Just then they all heard a lady ex- plain, How beautiful the lights are, they look as if the fairies had light- ed them ' Oh, why need we listen? Every- body admires our work, cried a gay little fairy, Come, I ' ll race you to the Zone! And in a twinkling the offer was accepted. MARY BAXTER. NO. 2. THE COURT OF AGES. Gleaming lights, and sounds of mirth, Flowers spread o ' er Mother Earth, Colonnades, with shadows deep, Sparkling founts where waters leap; Wondrous vistas, arches high, Over all a starry sky, Turrets of the sofest hue, — Dreams of fairyland come true! FERN HICKS. JOHNNY BEE ' S FIRST TRIP TO THE EXPOSITION. This is the story that Johnny Bee told his brother after his first visit to the Exposition: — First, after growing rather tired, I stopped to rest on a flower over- hanging a shady bench. Along came a young man and woman wholy un- conscious of my presence. I just es- caped with my life by flying swiftly away to the Court of the Universe where 1 like to play in the azalias. Next I lit on some woman ' s hat by mistake thinking it a small flower garden. People are a funny lot, bro- ther, aren ' t they? I ' d hate to be one. I liked the view from the hedge in front of the Palace of Fine Arts. That lagoon is a beautiful sight. The Zone seems to be an exciting place but after having seen the peo- ple come out of the Bowls of Joy, and the Roller Coaster, I decided I didn ' t want to try any of them, although I wouldn ' t have had to pay. Johnny ' s brother having listened at- tentively said, You certainly have had a queen day. I think I will go with you next time. DOROTHY CRANE. JUNE, 1915. THE TARGET UNKNOWN TO HISTORY. 3 A clatter of hoofs is heard grow- ing fainter and fainter as a rider dashes on through the rain and wind of a stormy night. Soon after the hoof beats had died away, a more reg- ular beat, but of no less a pace was heard, and a company of horsemen dashed madly by. The storm clouds had by this time concentrated their forces until they burst, and the storm was upon the horsemen dashing wildly on, heedless, headlong and seeing nothing of the passing landscape but what the bright flashes of lightning revealed. Never was a night so bad as this. The storm doubling in fury became so terrific as to render it impossible for the riders to make any headway. At about this time the first named horseman quickly turned into a clump of bushes, and there waited un- til the company had passed. Then turning about, he dashed back on the same road until he reached the cross- roads. Seeing by the dim light of the post-lamps the road he wanted to take, he turned his horse into it, and again began his headlong gallop into the stormy night. While under the glare of the lamp light we will hurriedly glance at him. A young man, he was, scarcely of age, with a face that peered from the hood of his riding cloak, tanned by ex- posure to the elements. His eyes were blue, his forehead high, his firm mouth and fine nose denot ed a deter- mination and strength of character seldom seen in one so young. But what was this youth ' s mission on such a night as this? Early on the morning of the day which had a rosy beginning, and end- ed in a storm, this youth was sitting quietly eating breakfast with his mother and sister with whom he was discussing in low tones certain troubles and conflicts which had arisen in the turbulent reign of King John. The room in which they were sit- ting was situated in a strong tower looking down on a small castle, but one of extraordinary strength. It was of such small dimensions it was right- ly called a tower. Little thinking of any lurking dang- er, they were greatly surprised when in rushed a servant who told them that the advance guard of Louis, the French claimant of the English crown, was before the gates demand- ing admittance in Louis ' name. An involuntary Ah burst from the assembly, for by this time the serv- ants were in the dining hall. Then en- sued a silence, for everybody was waiting for the young lord to speak. We will defy Louis, were his first words. All of you quickly don armor, and find weapons each to his own fancy. If we can only hold the tower for forty-eight hours, Dover may be saved. Our people there lit- tle dream of the French army being so near, and must not be taken un- aware. Roland, you sir, saddle Prancer, and leave him a mile or so behind the tower. Leave by the postern as the army is already in sight, and it would be foolhardy to use the main gates. Come back, if you can, because every man is needed in such a crisis. 4 THE TARGET The order was quickly obeyed. When the French commander be- held soldiers in such a small place defy him, he determined tocapture the tower before continuing on his way. By this act he lost Dover, the capture of which would have made England a part of France, for it was the only strong point in England then holding out against the rebel Barons and the French. And so that stormy night the young master set out, and we will now return to find him well on his way to Dover, and the purusuing troops proceeding inland. The dawn was just streaking the sky, for by this time the storm had abated, when the youth came within sight of the walls. In less than an hour he was safe inside Dover, where he told his story to the commander, Sir Hubert de Burgh. Thus by his quick thought and action he prepared Dover for the defence. The French seeing they had under estimated the strength of the tower, left for Dover, leaving only a small force to continue the siege. But it was too late. They had been too con- fident of capturing this small tower, and thereby lost both. This story is based on facts, but the ride though true is Unknown to History. MORGAN COX. THE BUFFALO. I sing of the noble buffalo Which, in the days of long ago, Roamed the grassy M-estern lands, Raided by large Indian bands. The white man came with gun and horse, And slew the herds without remorse, And now the skins are on the floor; The buffalo roams the plains no more. HOWARD HAMILTON CLARK. 1913, MY UNLUCKY YEAR. I left camp one day with pole and bait, and started on the seven-mile hike to the big pond, a hole some twenty feet deep. A beautiful stream dashed over the rocks and fell with a continuous thunder into the pond. It was said that the place swarmed with brook and salmon trout. For a fact I could, every once in a while, see one flash in the sunlight as it tried to leap up the falls; or another splash after a dive. I baited my line and, half-crouch- ing behind a boulder began to cast; here, there, in the shade of a rock, then back to the falls again. I notic- ed that the sun had gone behind some heavy clouds, but thought noth- ing of it. After a little while, I changed my position, casting from a different quarter. At last! — a strike, then a steady tugging. Oh! how that line reeled in. Finally the trout was near enough to be seen. He wa s a beauty, about thirteen inches long. During the ex- citement, having moved too near the edge, I lost my balance, and not being able to recover myself, splashed, pole and all into the water. The line spun off the reel like a flash of lightning, and when it reached the end, — snap! Down to the bottom went fish and line. I pulled myself out, and greatly dis- gusted, angry, and also wet, started back to camp. But it seemed as if I had not gone more than one hundred yards, when the heavens appeared to open, and what a deluge descended. Thoroughly soaked already, and car- ing nothing for the down-pour, I ran from tree to tree, until I reached camp, where, after a warm fire and dry clothing, I felt considerably bet- ter. HAROLD WOOLSEY. THE TARGET 5 THE BETTER SHOT AND THE BETTER MAN. Members of the Riverside Gun Club had been practicing for some time for the shooting tournament now at hand. Big Jim, a traveling trapper, got wind of it through an old news- paper. He decided to try his luck as he said. 1 M He arrived there the day of the tournament, a typical frontierman. The inferior members of the club were not in the reckoning. At the first shot, the ball went wide of its mark, while Brown, the clubman, hit on the outer edge of the bull ' s eye. In the second shot Jim did himself justice, but on account of his nerv- ousness (he was not used to facing a crowd) the third went wild. Brown had won with honors. The judge gave him the little sack of gold. When Jim was shaking Brown ' s hand he said, Waal, I thought I could shoot a little bit but I guess not, and with- out another word he stalked off the green. While walking along a wooded ave- nue, he met Brown coming up. The victor said, May I walk with you? I hope you have no hard feelings. Jim threw back his head and laughed saying, No,pard, but where are you going? I am going to visit some people with whom my little daughter Agnes is staying, replied Brown. As they neared the clearing in which the old house stood, far on the outskirts of the city, they saw with horror a great mountain lion, about to spring on a little child. My God! It ' s Agnes! cried Brown. And so it was; she had won- dered out to play in the brook and this thirsty ravaging monster had seen her. Brown dropped his gun, his nerve gone; but not Jim. Raising his rifle, he fired. The beast sprang, but it was a death spring. He fell in his tracks, shot through the head. When Brown realized the truth he said, with tears in his eyes, Jim! This proves to me, who the best shot is, and moreover, it proves to me that you are the best man. Take this money and may it do you great good. You deserve it. Jim replied shaking his head, No, Brown, I can ' t do it. If I had it I would not know what to do with it. This teaches me a lesson. Civiliza- tion is not for me. I go, and never shall civilization see my face. I can shoot in the face of danger, but not for money. WHELER JENSEN. THE MOON AND DAWN. The moon still bathed the summer sky As the dawn flung dewy arms on high. The moon, the sun ' s path craved to sea, And dawn from danger would not flee. Each sought the world that they knew not Like man in earth ' s great melting pot. Moon and sun, the heaven ' s power, Aid and source of every flower, Why not morn and darkness lighten And leave the heart the day to brighten ? Each day to life and duty bring Your nature gifts that make heart s sing. NANCY BOOTH. 6 THE TARGET A TRAGEDY OF THE SWISS ALPS. Philip was angry. Why shouldn ' t he go up the Alps alone? He was no longer a youngster who could not look after himself. Just then a great thought came into his head. He whistled and jumped about until his mother, remarking the change in him, inquired, What is the matter with you, Philip? O, nothing, said Philip again growing sulky. The day was hot and sultry and dragged slowly by, but at last evening came, cool and beautiful, and then the dark and sinister night. Midnight came, and Philip stirred slightly in his bed, then slipped stealthily out and dresed himself with nervous fingers. He crept silently out of his bed- room window, a small knapsack on his back and a flask of water at his belt. He then peered into the dark- ness to see that no one was about, but there was no need of fear as Swiss folk retire early. Philip half ran, half walked up the long, white curving road before him which led up to the world-famed Alps. The thousand and one scents familiar to the Swiss countryside lured him on. He noticed the dark outline of the mountains loom big and weird in the heights above him. They looked grim. But Philip was not to be daunted. Not he! The sun rose to find Philip before one of the innumerable chalets far up the valley. The owner looked at him inquiringly, but decided to give him food without questioning him, as Philip was not inclined to talk. After a good rest, his knapsack full of sup- plies and his flask filled with pure mountain water, Philip trod on again. The sun now glared fiercely down and Philip, hot and dusty, his flask nearly empty, sat down under the cool shade of a large, outspreading tree, and did not move from the spot till late in the afternoon. He noticed a village not far ahead of him, and headed rapidly for it. Arriving in about an hour ' s time, he decided to have another meal before atempting to ascend the dangerous trail. He again filled his flask, and his knapsack was heavy with fruit when he set off. His conscience was a little easier now, as many young lads idled about in mountain costume. Philip, how- ever, passed rapidly through the vil- lage and began the ascent by a nar- row pebbly path. He now heard a low, but distinct rumble, as of ehunder. However, he gave no further thought of it and climbed more rapidly, — the mystery and beauty of the mountains luring him on. Night came to find Philip half way to the summit of the mountain. He was dead tired by this time and only managed to drag one foot wearily aft- er the other. He suddenly fell to the ground from exhaustion and decided to wait there till the first signs of morning would awaken him. He smiled as he thought of his parents ' refusal. In a few hours he would tell the village of his wondrous feat, and the news would spread rapidly. It was well on to midnight when Philip, with a frightened cry, sprang to his feet and heard the same low roar as of the foregoing afternoon, but now it seemed to come crashing down, ever growing nearer and louder. THE TARGET 7 An avalanche, Philip thought, terror depicted in every line of his face. He rushed down in leaps and bounds, but the avalanche rolled steadily on and with a last feeble cry, Philip sank to the ground. In a few minutes he was buried underneath the great white, hurling mass, never to be seen again. LILIAN McHOUL. BOB ' S EXPERIENCE. Come on, Skip, said Bob to his dog, let ' s hang this flag on that large tank over there where the windmill stands. Skip barked his approval and they started off. The tank house had a narrow ledge around it, and the tank rested on top of this platform. Bob climbed up, and when on top began to walk around the ledge. While he was fas- tening the flag his foot slipped, and he commenced to fall; but, as he fell, he clutched the strong folds of the flag, for it had caught in the hook. Bob began to feel his head swim, but he held on to the flag as tightly as he could. In spite of all he did, he felt his hands slipping. Skip ' s barks became fainter and fainter to him. Just then Skip ran toward the house as fast as his short legs could carry him. When he got there he barked and barked until Bob ' s father followed him back to the tank house . Just as Bob was about to let go, he felt strong arms pulling him up to safety and taking him to a nice warm bed. And that was how the gallant Skip saved his master ' s life. ELDON NICHOLS. DAWN. Fresh as a rose, the dawn flushed over the earth, Spreading, o ' er valley, brook and sea and hill, Colors, which starry night that had given it birth, Could not lend, in her watch o ' er ocean, meadow and hill, To leafy, moonlit wood, or farmhouse still— A vivid blush that charmed the morning air. Which joyously answered back with rosy thrill; While earth ' s flowering beauties, dewey, frail and fair, Opened their timid eyes, and breathed a morning prayer. NANCY LLOYD. CONCERNING CLOCKS. Francoise I, king of France, fam- ous for fault-finding had a very skill- ful clock maker who was sometimes put to unnecessary trouble because of the king ' s temper. One day the king ordered a beautiful clock made, and exactly on the appointed day he received it, to all appearances abso- lutely perfect. No matter how hard he tried, the king could find no fault with it. In those days the people made num- ber four on a clock IV just as they wrote it. The king noticing the numeral, saw an opportunity for criticism. He insisted that it should have been written IIII. The clock- maker replied that it was the custom to write it IV, but then observing the king ' s set face, he knew he would either have to change the clock or lose his head. So ever after the num- eral IIII instead of IV has been used on clocks. NATALIE RAYMOND. 8 THE TARGET THE ABANDONED TRAIL. Through wildering forests of primeval trees, Untrod by man or beast, a lonely trail Winds in and out; and the perennial breeze Doth whisper weirdly an unwritten tale Of him who fought with neither lance nor mail. In nature ' s paths he trod and learned her art; And when on his last voyage he set sail And did from wigwam and from friends depart, The hope of happy hunting grounds upheld his heart. WINIFRED WISHARD. JOVE AIDS. I was in the smoke to be sure but I had yet to get into the smother. Where was I? Among whom? What had I to do? The Indians in the southern desert country were now revolting against the authority of the whites. Treacher- ous deeds were being enacted by the burly chief and his band. No white man ' s life was his own. The whole country, like a sea of threatening wat- ers, was surging and tossing under the direction of this one fearless man. He was the cause of it all and it was my commission to put an end to him. How I was to accomplish this, I knew no more than perhaps my read- er knows at this moment, but it was my business to set about and find a way. This was inded an adventurous period in my life and one to be long remembered. Taking no companion with me and traveling by night, I made my way into the fatal land, hardly expecting ever to return. Stopping one night with an old rancher, who had grown to know and understand the red-men, I learned of a conclave which was to be held on the following day. Here was the chance of my life ! Keeping my intentions from my host, I made preparations for the final plunge. The sky was overcast and huge black clouds were to be seen coming from the mountains. Know- ing the desert, I saw at once signs of a terrific storm. This might help me in my purpose! It did — and in a strange way. The storm came one fiercer. Above the din I could now and again hear the yells of the assembling men ever coming nearer. Finally a loud peal of thunder broke as from the depths of the earth. At that moment a great light flashed at my right and a huge tree came crashing down. Rushing to the spot, I found — stretched upon the ground at my feet — the fearless chief and the one object of my quest! MARIE MYERS. WHAT A PICTURE TOLD ME. Drawn up in bright array at the top of the hill three thousand knights stood waiting for the word, Charge! Above them floated dull, gray clouds which softened the glare of the red roofs of the houses below. The steeds upon which they were mounted pawed the ground in rest- lessness. At last the word Charge! sent a thrill through all. Down the hill with spears abreast they went. As the spears struck the enemy, a road was plowed through the opposing phalanx scattering the soldiers in every direction. Suddenly the general shouted Halt! The day is ours. HOWARD BROWN. John Madden (to Fred Edinger with guitar case) : Why did you bring your tennis raquet to school? THE TARGET 9 A BETTER STORY. A big party of men once went up to the Williamson ' s ranch to hunt and fish. I was invited over from a neigh- boring farm to visit these sportsmen as I was to guide some ' of them the following day to a little creek. After supper was over, the men be- gan to tell stories. This was kept up till Colonel Peters told of a bear fight he had once with an old grizzly. This eclipsed the others so far that no one had even enough courage to attempt to go him one better. Finally an old Indian fighter reck- oned he could beat that story. Every one was laughing to himself for he had a reputation for stretching an idea as far as he could and he took no particular pains to make his gram- mar good. Well, it was like this: — When we were fighting the Modocs, one of their chiefs came into camp to make peace. After this was done, he pro- ceeded in true Indian fashion to lay his hand on anything he saw. He walked up to where I was frying some eggs and hooked on to my gun which was a beautv. I hit bi n with a fried f egg, that being the worst in- sult I thought you could offer an In- dian. Instead of shooting me he list tarned and walked away with a deen scowl on his face. I knew that I would have tarnation to pay. A few days later while I was washing myself down at a river, I saw him coming with an infernal mob of painted heathens. When he spied me, he let out a Minnehaha and started after me. Well you can jist bet I started up that river at a terrible pace. Finally I had to stop as a water-fall was in front of me. Here the old hunter paused to see what an effect his speech had made on the audience. Did you hide or swim under wat- er down stream? asked Colonel Peters, who thought he had easily guessed the end of the story. Neither, was the reply. Well what did you do? Seeing that I had been washing myself, I took the soap and made a lather. With this, I constructed a bridge and climbed over the water- fall, after greasing the bridge so the Indians couldn ' t use it. DONALD KITZMILLER. CALIFORNIAS ' VOLCANO. Mount Lassen was always complete- ly covered with lovely, white snow. At sunset it was wonderful; beautiful hues of rose, golden and violet gleam- ed on the snow. One hot sultry morning my sister came rushing in. Just come out and look at Mt. Lassen! she exclaimed, it ' s in erup- tion. I went out into the street where several other people were watching the mountain with telescopes and field glasses. It certainly was won- derful; the thick, black smoke was puffing out of the crater in huge columns. The eruption continued at intervals during the day and in the evening. When I looked out at it again I saw instead of a snowy white mountain, an ashy gray one. Either the snow had been covered up by the ashes or had been melted by the heat; but the mountain has never looked quite so snowy and white since as it did before the eruption. DOROTHY ANDREWS. 10 THE TARGET A TRIP TO FAIRYLAND. Dorothy was sitting under a big apple tree one beautiful day in June, watching the fleecy white clouds as they slowly passed by. Suddenly a small object appeared among the clouds. As it drew nearer, Dorothy could detect the form of a little elf dressed in red. He was soon right over her head, and dropping down at her feet, settled himself comfortably on the grass. Dorothy opened her eyes in astonishment when he told her that he was the Fairy King, called Skipp, and that his wife, the Queen of the Fairies, had invited her to come and visit Fairyland. We shall reward you because you have believed in Fairy Tales, he concluded, and even when your lit- tle friends tried to persuade you that there were no fairies, you stil had faith in us. That is the reason my Queen has given you this oportunity. Dorothy danced for joy. Skipp waved his wand, and Doro- thy was a little fairy, clothed in the beautiful garments of fairies. In a few seconds they were flying high above the clouds, and soon after slowly descended right into Fairy- land. There before them was the prettiest little garden ever seen. Tiny lanterns were strung among the trees, and strains of sweet music floated through the air. Little fairies were dancing among the trees and flowers. Come, said Skipp, when he thought Dorothy had gazed long enough, I ' ll take you to the Queen first, and after that we shall attend the ball. ' The Queen ' s abode was a tiny house made of violet leaves, with flowers for furniture. Snugly tucked away in the heart of a violet, a wee baby fairy slept. She was a dear lit- tle thing, all pink and white. In the tiny kitchen Skipp showed Dorothy the little dishes of ice cream, and many delicious cakes no bigger than the head of a pin. They then went back through the dainty little green halls which were scented with violets. As they approached the door, they heard the silvery tinkle of bells, at the sound of which the fairies all dis- appeared. Almost immediately they returned in the most shimmering at- tire, ready for the ball which soon took place. The fairy Dorothy thought most beautiful was a sweet-faced sprite with blue eyes, and a bewitching smile playing about her pretty red lips. She wore a baby wild rose in her golden hair, and her dress was of delicate rainbow tints. Dorothy gazing open-mouthed at the brilliant scene, was surprised on hearing the voice of Skipp, saying, Would you like to dance with me? But, added, remembering his ordin- ary red clothes which did not harm- onize at all with the delicate colors of the others, perhaps you would rath- er not dance with me in such raim- ent. Skipp laughed, waved his wand, and Presto! Change! he was a fairy-like dashing youth, dressed in cloth of gold. No sooner was he transformed than the beautifulfairy came up to them and laughingly said, Have you real- ly come, Skipp? You ' ve been a long time on your journey ; andthen turn- ing to Dorothy she said, Dear, I am the Queen of the Fairies. Would you like to be a fairy for one night? Yes indeed! beautiful Queen, she answered. The music softly stole out upon the air, and Skipp, taking Dorothy ' s arm, THE TARGET 1 1 led her in the dance. Never before were heard such peals of silvery- laughter as the merry couples trip- ped the hours away. Dorothy danced with all the fairy princes, but after a while, in spite of all her efforts her eyes began to blink. Skipp noticed this, and at the first oportunity, he asked her whether it was not best for her to go home to rest. Think- ing of her mother, she agreed, but was very reluctant to leave beauti- ful Fairyland. Skipp and Dorothy were again above the clouds, and the first thing she knew, Dorothy was in her moth- er s lap relating her interesting ad- venture. VIRGINIA I. MITCHELL. A MOUNTAIN SCENE. Tall pine trees looked down upon two small tents which were standing on the edge of the calm blue lake. The soft, regular fall of the waves formed a thin spray in the early morning air. The glorius sun threw glancing rays in the misty air, mak- ing arches of fairest opal dart at every motion of the water. The fragrance of the pines and their soft moaning song seemed to enchant- ingly attract gorgeous butterflies to the magic scene. The snowy moun- tains with huge boulders rising among the fir trees, added to the beauty of the scene. The faint whistle of the steamboat mingled with the far-off call of the whippoorwill, as it danced from bough to bough accompanied by its own song. Little chipmonks twitter- ed in their homes, some running to and fro looking little ones gone as- tray. KATHERINE KETT. THE STORM. Not a sound broke the stillness, save now and then the croak of the old mill frog, which sounde d strange- ly out of tune to-night. He was try- ing to cheer up the world, but he was afraid of his own voice. I stood at the door of my cabin and looked up the valley. On either side loomed up the steep cliffs that shut out the whole world. I would never go out of my beautiful canyon — no, never . . . and yet, to-night — Suddenly, a rustling of leaves, a chill, roused me. I looked to the east. The huge trees were bending and swaying. The wind, fierce and wild, swept my canyon in great gusts from end to end. Iwent into the cabin and put a huge oaken log on the al- ready roaring fire. I huddled on the hearth. The branches of the old ap- ple tree scraped and broke against the cabin, while the thundering wind as if mad choked and raged on. All through that long night I sat, shud- dering and fearful, the loneliest per- son alive. But all at once the wind stopped as suddenly as it had come. With one last shriek it died away. I rose and stepped to my cabin door. The moon shone low in the west, flooding my valley with a reverent and peaceful light, and, as I stood in awed silence, it slowly sank, and as it disappeared behind the purple moun- tains, a greater light rose with glory in the east. ALICE GIBBS. Virginia Mitchell: They had a silver picture made of gold. Gertrude Seaver: If it had not rained today, I would have worn my bicycle to school. 12 THE TARGET ORCHESTRA. Upper row, left to right — Robert Edgar, Edward Derby, John Broth- ers, Lawrence Kett. Se cond row — Irving Jurgenson, Walter St. John, Stanly Donogh, Ken- neth Graham, Arthur Gunderson, Hubert Bryant, Harold Woolsey, Robert McCullough. Lower row — Francis Phillips, Louis Lininger, Moses Rey, Ashley Hill, Edwin Borgstrom, Frank Sturges, John Olney, Marjorie Bond, Erato Deh- mel, Eleanor Weber, Ruth Scotford, James McCullough, Charles Whit- worth. RESERVE JUNE 1ST. The musical organizations expect to give a concert on the evening of June first in Wilkins ' Hall. The pro- ceeds will be used for the purchase of band and orchestral instruments, and music for all the organizations. The Glee Club will sing a cantata called The Village Blacksmith with organ and piano accompaniment. The Orchestra will give Marsch by Lachner, Narcissus by Nevin, and Crusader Overture by Rollinson. The Band is preparing the Juno Overture by L. P. Laurendean, and March Indenpendentia by R. B. Hall. Some of our graduates will as- sist in the program. Our concerts have always been a success and a source of great pleasure to particip- ants and audience as well. The mem- bers of our music department have been working faithfully, individually and collectively, as various toots, blasts and chords from eight to four have indicated. We feel sure that their efforts on June first will be sec- ond to none. THE BAND. Our Band played at the May Day Festival held in the public park on San Pablo avenue, Saturday, May first. Again they were heard at the THE TARGET 13 BAND. Upper row, left to right — William Woollet, Louis Dougherty, Hubert Bryant, Irving Jurgenseon, Walter St. John, Harold Woolsey, Donald Kit zmiller, Robert Edgar. Lower row — Francis Phillips, Stanly Donogh, Sidney Brown, Robert McCullough, Louis Lininger, Standish Donogh, James McCullough, Heber Gute, Ralph Beais, Allen Ingalls, Charles Whitworth. In front — Frederick Fender. Y. M. C. A. entertainment given the evening of May seventh. At the first field day of the intermediate high schools, May eighteenth, they stim- ulated enthusiasm and led us oa to victory. The organization was a great source of pride to McKinley School that day, and a joy to all assembled. PIANO CLUB. At the meeting of this organization held on April fourth, a pleasing pro- gram was renderd. Camille Haynes played The Song of the Lark, by Tschaikowsky; Pauline Elder, A Fantasie, by Mendelssohn; Mar- jorie McCullough, Venetian Boat Song, by Mendelssohn; Natalie Ray- mond gave one movement from a Sonata, by Mozart; and Herbert Daube, A Selection in G Minor, by Mendelssohn. The fifth and last meeting was held Friday, May twenty-first. This half-hour was given over entirely to members of the High Ninth Class. Herbert Daube played The Chase, by Heller; Minnie Chan played The Brooklet, composed by her teacher, Otto Fleisner; Gait Bell, Sherzo, by Mendelssohn; Muriel Ditzler, To a Water-lily, by Mac- Dowell; Beulah Butler, The Last Hope, by Gottschalk, and Ruth Sor- GLEE CLUB. Upper row, left to right — Jane Lawson, Winifred Wishard, Millie Tremp, Blanch Tomaine, Avis Rodehaver, Wickes Glass, Edward Bar- nard, Morgan Cox, Harvey Larke, Edward Gove, Louis Dougherty Moses Rey, Howard Irwin, George Bliss, Henry Holm, Grace Mills, Helen Light- ner, Priscilla Collom. Second row — Faith Milliken, Emily Noble, Marie Myers, Jane Reiley, Katherine Wilder, Muriel Ditzler, Elva Busch, Anna Love, Helen Newlon, Nancy Lloyd, Leda Van Haren, Dorothy Blean, Mary Ames, Mabel Irvine, Mildred Whitaker, Adalene Lewis, Catharine McManus, Byrl Mitchell. Third row — Grafton Carlisle Muriel Collins, Xiyo Uyeyama, Leslie Alexander, Sheila Lambert, Bernice Peiser, Geraldine Quillinan, Mildred Black, Walter St. John, Lois Brock, Lillian Leland, George Eldredge, Beulah Butler, Olga Hansen, Dorothy Dyer, Charlotte Thaxter. Lower row — Muriel Snook, Francis Kelsey, Dorothy Manasse, Louis Lininger, Adelaide Kibbe, Elizabeth Roberts, Charles Whitworth, Ma- rian Woolsey, Maxine Davis, Isabelle Gall, Louise Runckel, William Thompson, Alice Queen, Vera Arnold, Madeline Sanderson. rick, ' Posthumous Waltz, by Chop- in. By some oversight the names of eighteen members of the Piano Clnb were omitted in our last issue. They are: Lorena Edwards, Edith Landon, Terrill Durbrow, Eleanor Bonner, Barbara Simpson, Elizabeth Roberts, Albert Becker, Loretta Wardlaw, Anita Foss, Natalie Raymond, Ger- trude Hatch, Luella Longenecker, Margaret Wishard, Roberta Holmes, Amybeth Payson, Herbert Daube, Muriel Ditzler, Jean Scotford. We are sorrow to lose Muriel Oakshott, who has left for her home in Australia. She was an inspiration to us all and we miss her. THE TARGET 15 PIANO CLUB. Upper row, left to right — Terrill Durbrow, Roberta Holmes, Henry Snyder, Herbert Daube, Gait Bell, Albert Becker, Blanch Eastland, Jean Scotford. Second row — Elizabeth Roberts, Luella Longenecker, Minnie Chan, Muriel Ditzler, Beulah Butler, Muriel Durgin, Bettina Collom, Gertrude Seaver, Amybeth Payson, Lorena Edwards. Second row — Marjorie McCullough, Margaret Giesler, Lois Brock. Lillian Leland, Margaret Wishard, Ruth Sorrick, Muriel Collins, Camille Haynes, Pauline Elder, Eleanor Mead, Louise Runckel. Lower row — Barbara Simpson, Eleanor Bonner, Natalie Raymond, Anita Foss, Loretta Wardlaw, Gertrude Hatch, Eleanor Stillman, Laura Bolton. THE GLEE CLUB. There have been a few changes in the personnel of the Club recently. Several members have been added to the roll: Bases, Walter St. John, Ed- ward Barnard, George Eldredge, Louis Dougherty; altos: Mildred Whitaker, Geraldine Quillman, Jane Lawson, Elsbeth Schneider, Kiyo Kiyo Uyeyama, Dorothy Manasse; soprano: Priscilla Collom. Byrl Mit- chell was transferred from the altos to the soprano section; Blewitt Howat left school; and Bernice Waugh, Alice Greer, Charlotte Ar- nold and Mary Burger dropped out. SPRING. Oh Spring has come with joy and mirth, With singing bird and babbling brook, To spread its cheer o ' er all the earth, And fill with beauties every nook. It is a season of good cheer, A time of sunshine and of shower. In honor of this time of year, Come let us dance in fairy bower! ADALENE LEWIS. 16 THE TARGET HOW SHE PROVED HER METTLE. Jewel Merton was glad it was Sat- urday, because she disliked her school and also because for two days she would be at liberty. Her three cousins, Grace, Doris and Matilda, and Aunt Mary had gone to spend two or three days at a friend ' s house in the mountains, and Jewel had assured them that she was quite capable of being left alone. But suddenly, as she looked down the dusty road, she felt homesick and wished to return to Mexico, where her father was. Nobody cares whether I stay here or not, she thought. None of the girls like me although Aunt Mary does. Oh bother, those chickens are loose again. After shooing and coaxing the chickens back to their pen, Jewel sad- dled her pony and resolved to take a long ride. She didn ' t care where, particularly. A few minutes later she was riding down the long, dusty road. Seeing a long way off a mound on the road, Jewel quickened her horse ' s pace and soon reached it. It was the wagon that Aunt Mary and the girls had been riding in when they left, scarce- ly an hour ago. The wagon must have broken, said Jewel aloud. I wonder where they are! The horses, also, had disappeared, andjewel was going after them in the direction she thought they had taken, when she became aware of a man riding rapidly toward her. Jewel was certain that she had never seen him before. Yer Aunt Mary and the gals are at the ranch house, he said. I think they kinder want you. All right, replied Jewel, I ' ll go to them. But she got off her horse as soon as she was out of his sight and crept back through the bushes at the side of the road. They couldn ' t have come back, she reasoned, be- cause I would have passed them. I ' m goingto see what he ' s up to. When she got to the place where she had left the man, he was nowhere to be seen. Gone, too, was the wagon, and Jewel, mystified, had turned to go away, when her ear caught the sound of hammering, which seemed to come from underground. For two or three minutes she stood afraid to move. Then her hand went up to the revolver her father had given her in Mexico and she laughed at her fears. Running silently to the road, she looked around until her eye caught sight of a place where twigs were bent and broken. Following this trail, Jewel came at length to a cave-like opening, which she entered without hesitation. Stepping fearless- ly into a wide space where two men were just completing a second open- ing in the ground, Jewel fired two shots into the ground. The men faced about, but concluded to run, and a moment later were lost to sight. Oh Jewel, how can I ever thank you? exclaimed Aunt Alary. Those men were evidently smugglers who captured us because they needed our horses. Then they brought us to this cave, where you have found us. You are very brave, I think. Grace, who had been very silent during this time, now spoke, Jewel, won ' t you teach me to shoot? You can teach me in the mountains, be- cause now we ' re all going there to- gether. DOROTHY BENNETT. THE TARGET 17 JUST MY STORY. My mother and father are both Hawaiian polo ponies and so am I. Allstar, my mother, is considered a very fine pony. My father, Carry-the- News, is one of the best polo ponies in the world. Quicksilver is my name. Called so because I am so quick and because I am a deep bay except for my two forelegs which are a silvery gray. I have always been admired as far back as I can remember. People always say when they see me, How odd! My youngest colthood days were spent just like any other colt ' s. When I grew old enough to understand, All- star used to tell me about the games she had played in. They always ex- cited me and I longed for the day when I would play. I did not have to wait long though, for when I was only a year old they began teaching me to follow a ball and obey com- mands. I was broken to saddle at two and it was then that my real training began. My trainer had me on the field every day for three months teaching me to obey his slightest wish and the quick turns which are so necessary in the game. Then came the little white ball again and I had followed it for two weeks when my trainer decided to put me in a practice game and see what I could do among the other horses. That first game was a nightmare to me. There were seven other horses besides myself but it seemed as though there were a hundred. Every way I turned there were excited horses. I was frightened and tried to get away from the mix-up. My train- er must have known how I felt for he let me run down the field. His pur- pose I was not long in learning for the ball shot past me and I immedi- ately started after it. In two seconds I was in the confusion again. I did not mind it now for I was working with my rider and we were both after the ball. I was tired and sore when I came out of that first practice game. My trainer himself helped to give me my first rub-down. They rubbed me with cloths first, then wrapped me in steam- ing blankets and then in ice-cold ones. I objected to these two operations strenuously. After the cold applica- tion I was dried and massaged with oil until I thought my hide was com- ing off. This first attempt at a game mark- ed the beginning of many others and it was not long before I was the best pony in these practice frolics, as they came to be. One morning I was rid- den by a different man. I liked him and the way he handled me. He in turn remarked to my trainer, That is the best horse in the bunch. Fix him up and will take him home with me and try him out in the game against Main next week. Walter Dillingham was going to ride me in the game against Main! I could hardly believe my ears. Mr. Dillingham came to my stall after the game and patting me said, Quicksilver, if it had not been for that last run of yours we should have lost the game. I think you will more than equal your father. I am trying hard to equal him, be- cause that means my master ' s ap- proval and playing in the Internation- al Polo Games. ISABELLA HILL. 18 THE TARGET HAPPINESS. I once knew two girls, both the same age, and they lived in the same city, only one lived in a lovely man- son, while the other lived in a mean looking little cottage, right in the center of the city. The rich girl whose name was Rose, and she resembled very much the flower for which she was named, was always looking for happiness, when she had everything on earth that her parents could give her. But all the time she whined and said, I know I can never find happiness as lone as I live. In a cottage right in the business part of town, lived a girl very differ- ent from Rose in every way. Her name was Patience and she well de- served the name. Patience had four or five litle brothers and sisters, a poor sick mother, and a father who made very little, but loved his family devotedly. As Patience ' s mother was sick, she had to work in a store as a clerk with a very mean salary, But just the same it helps, as Patience would often say. When she came home, she would try to entertain her little brothers and sisters, take care of her mother, and also get dinner for her father and the family. One day Rose and her governess went into the store where Patience worked and it happened that Patience waited on them. While Rose was waiting for the package, she looked at Patience and asked, ' Why are you smiling so happily? Patience answered smilingly, Be- cause I have little brothers and sis- ters, and a lovely mother and father, and everything that could make me happy. Oh, please let me go to your home with you and see if I can find happiness, said Rose pleadingly. Why, of course you may come, but I would think it would be very easy for you to be happy as you have everything you want on earath, said Patience. This is my home, said Patience as she skipped a little ahead of Rose. And can you be happy in a place like this? asked Rose. Why, of course J can, this is the dearest place on earth to me, but please come in and see my sweet lit- tle mother. Rose hesitated but finally went. She saw a small dingy room with lit- tle children peeping out from every- where, and Rose saw a bed, in the corner of the room, with a small deli- cate woman in it. Patience ran over to the bed and kissed her mother, and all the small, eager faces that were crowding near her. She excused herself, saying that she would have to get dinner ready for father. Rose sat in mute silence watching the proceedings of the family, and when she left, she whispered in Pa- tience ' s ear, I want to thang you so much and 1 am so glad I have met you, for you have shown me the way to true happiness, in forgetting self and doing for others. LEILA M. SHIELDS. Jean Waste (having just bit her cheek): Goodness! that ' s the first taste of venison I ' ve had this season. THE TARGET 19 A NARROW ESCAPE. Jack was just eigheeen and rather small for his age. He wore a suit of blue, carried a gun and had a knap- sack strapped to his side. The morning had come for him to bid his fond and loving mother good- bye. He was going to join the troops of the North some miles distant. The mother watched him ride away with tears in her eyes but trusting he would some day return a brave hero. Jack rode fast with a patriotic soul for he wanted to reach the camp in a short time. Suddenly he heard the roar of drums and the sound of guns. His heart seemed to stand still for he saw the enemy approaching him. What was he to do? If they caught him he would be killed as a spy. The thought struck him, he would fire on them. But what could one gun ac- complish against many? The only thing left to do was leave his horse and run for safety — where he knew not. He saw in the field an old two-room house. He managed to get inside where a couple of old maids stood in great excitement. They too, saw the danger but decided to save the boy. The soldiers of the South came in the cabin knocking things left and right and demanded the boy. They made what they called a thorough search for Tom but, not finding him joined the rest of the troops. One of the maids kept watch and when they were a good distance away, she called to Tom telling him all was well. The youth, pale and excited, crawled out from under the other spinsters great full hoop skirts. This had been his hiding place. He thanked the sisters heartily for their deed and left for the Northern ranks, where he was made a brave general. MELVIN LEE. BEN ' S STORY. New Year ' s day had come. The family was reunited and talking over old times. Finally, Joe, the young- est son, suggested that Uncle Ben, their favorite story teller tell them a story. Uncle Ben thought awhile and then began: Last winter on a cold day, I went out hunting. My rifle was out of order so I took my single barrel shot- gun. I was walking through the woods when I saw a large grizzly bear. Verj ' foolishly I shot at it, which so enraged the bear that it charged at me with its claws, ready to tear me to peices. I dropped my then useless gun, and ran for a tree. Stopping before two: saplings about three feet apart, I climbed one. The bear climbed the other. When the grizzly got to the top it reached over and put its fore- paw on the trunk of my sapling. Now was my chance! Quickly pulling some strong cord from my pocket, I tied the bear ' s paw securely. Thei bear become very angry and put its hind foot over also. I tied this one and quickly sliding down from my tree I climbed the other and fast- ened his other two paws. Then I slid down and surveyed my work with satisfaction. I went on hunting. On coming near the bear about an hour later, I heard him whining and howling. I let the bear loose and it licked me all over. I started home and the bear fol- lowed. He is now my constant com- panion and it was with the greatest difficulty that I left him home this morning. FRED HURT. 20 THE TARGET A MATTER OF BUSINESS. Rob Dawson paid no attention to the old man ' s remonstrations, but went on with his work of putting in the lighting system of the new Opera House. He was doing it the quickest and easest way possible, although he knew he was doing wrong. Andrew MacCullock, his helper, was with him when he put in the lighting system at the church. Mac- Cullock was telling him he was en- dangering the lives of many people by wiring the Opera House that way. Dawson became irritated and said almost savagely, Do as I tell you or get out and I will get some one in your place. I am sorry, laddie, the old man said gently, but I can ' t choke my conscience for any man not even for you. Without another word he walked out. Rob had a quick temper, but when the flash of fire was gone, he repented deeply. He picked up his tools and said, He ' ll be back here after his job again to-night. But when after several days he did not return, he became lonesome working alone, so he hired two young men on the condition that they would do as he told them. Two days before the opening ex- ercises in the Opera House, Dawson finished his job and received a large check for his services. The next day, however, the church he had formerly worked on, burned to the ground. No one knew the rea- son but Rob Dawson and Andrew MacCullock. It was now too late to rectify his mistake. It would ruin his business career if he confessed to the company. Should he risk the lives of hundreds of people, staking them against his business? Mechanically he left the house and turned toward the fated Opera House. He entered a side door, groped his way in the dark. He struck a match and saw crouching near the stairs, Andrew MacCullock. What does this mean? the young man ex- claimed. Nothing, replied the old man in a murmur, I could not bear to see your business reputation ruined; I have been working here every night snce you turned me off. I knew you were young and hot-headed, so I thought I could save you this time may be. No one will find it out, in the meantime you might open your eyes. I have, I have! groaned Bob. I have been repenting all day. I have just completed the work, informed the old man. Everything is square and above board now. Bob grasped the old man ' s hands and said, I have had many friends, but not one like you. Through a long and successful busi- ness career Rob Dawson never for- got the day when he was snatched away from dishonor and ruin by An- drew MacCullock his friend and part- ner. MURPHY COBB. There was a young man called Haven, Who tried once to do some shav ' n ' ; But the razor was dull And he ruined his skull, And that was the last of Van Haven. THE TARGET THE EXILE. 21 Once a very large brown bear lived in the northern part of the Yellow- stone National Park. Any man who shot at him or any other animal was subect to a heavy fine and long im- prisonment, so he was perfectly safe. There were fish in the streams and lakes, and the wooded hills and the grassy flats were full of antelope, deer, and elk; and he might even catch one of the rare moose or moun- tain sheep. So he was well fed, and fat, and perfectly happy. One time he came upon a new cabin that he had never seen before, upon the Swan Lake Flats. He found that no one was in; and moreover, there was a delicious smell issuing from the back window. He knew what it was, so he went around to the front door and entered. There it was, over in the back corner, — honey! Having no delicacy about confiscat- ing other people ' s goods which struck his fancy, he began at once to eat this honey. Bang! It was the front door. It had dropped from the ceiling. Queer kind of a door, thought he. But he ' knew he could break any ordinary cabin door, so he went on eating. Soon he felt drowsy; he could not finish the honey, which, if he only knew it, was the sole cause of the deep sleep he was soon in. He slept for about seventy-two hours. When he awoke he was very sleepy, but soon something very vio- lently brought him to his full senses It was a steady rumbling and a jolt every little while. He got up. All around were thick iron bars, looking through which he saw the landscape moving very fast, and, although be did not know it, he was on a freight train bound for Washington, D. C. Now, if you go to Washington, be sure to go to the Zoo. You will find the largest brown bear, and prob- ably the largest bear of any kind, you ever saw. He has been there seventeen years, and you may see him any day, slowly walking back and forth, no doubt thinking of the happy times he used to have, and wishing they were his now. MALIN CRAIG, Jr. AN UNLUCKY CAMPING TRIP. This last spring vacation, two boys, two dogs and myself went camping on Mt. St. Helena. We left San Francisco on the steamer Napa Val- ley, in a drizzling rain, which con- tinued through almost the entire trip. At Calistoga we visited a man my father knew, who gave us a good meal, and our directions. We start- ed out in the rain, and, after about two hours of taking refuge under trees, a bridge and a water tank, we reached the foot of the mountain. We had expected to reach the Toll House (Mt. St. Helena Inn), half way up the mountain by night but had to give up hope of so doing. We then tried to build a lean-to, but later decided that one of us would go up the road to the next farmhouse, which, as we had seen, was but a short distance on, up the road. The one who was sent, re- turned soon, to say Hurry up and pick up the duds and come. The man had said that we couljd use the cow-stable. Imagine our joy when it proved to be a cottage, with two rooms and a fireplace, and dry wood in a nearby shelter. 22 THE TARGET Next morning found the sun barely visible through clouds. We set off during a lull in the rain and in about an hour and a half we reached the Inn, after taking shelter under some trees, and an old auto top, on one side of the road. We stayed at the Inn. all that day, which was Sunday, Monday and part of Tuesday morning, when we con- cluded to return to Calistoga, by auto stage, that morning. After visit- ing my father ' s friend again, and get- ting another good meal, Ave caught the train. On the return trip the dogs , seeing the baggage door open, and within reach, jumped out. One slipped his chain, and the other was pulled in unconscious, but recovered soon. The other dog wandered back to Calis- toga where my father ' s friend found him. WILLIAM STEARNS. THE CHARGE OF THE SIGHT- SEEING BRIGADE. Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, Plowed the old ferry-boat To San Francisco. As the sight-seers landed, Eyes wide expanded, All were of one mind: The Fair was no blunder! Onward, the sight-seeing Brigade L Were they at all dismay ' d As they beheld that view When they gazed breathless? Palaces to right of them, Palaces to left of them, Palaces in front of them And the bright Joy Zone. JOHN BENNETT. INSPIRATION! Oh dear, said Johnny after din- ner, I ' ve got to write a story with a point to it. What shall I write about? Sister is a year ahead of me at school and she wrote all the stories that I have ever heard about and so now there are none left for me. We can ' t write anything that has ever been in print before. Well, why don ' t you write about adventure, replied his sister. Oh, I have never had any adven- tures that turned out with a point to them, replied Johnny, and I ' ve nev- er heard any either. If you go to bed now you will probably remember some story to- morrow, said his mother. And so it turned out. Johnny went to bed but it seemed only a second before it was morning. The air was hazy and Johnny could not see very well. There was no breakfast, every- body was gone. Johnny put on his coat and went into the woods. After a while he met a bear. Good morning, said the bear, I am so glad to se you. I have fasted all winter and a nice little boy would taste very good. Johnnny was so surprised that he could not speak. He looked hard at the bear to see if he were not dream- ing, but no, it was a real bear! Johnny ran to the nearest tree and started to climb it. He never knew that it was so hard to climb. He just barely kept out of reach of the bear. When he got to the top he gave a big leap out, because he thought that he would rather be killed by a fall than a bear. He did not seem to fall rapidly but kind of floated. This time he was sure that he was dreaming, and so he pinched himself to wake up. Just as he did this, the ground seem- ed to fly up and hit him and he felt THE TARGET a sharp pain in his side where he had pinched himself. He woke with a startled cry and found himself lying on the floor with a pin that was in his night-gown pricking his side. Then a happy thought came to him. He had a story with a point to it; he felt that the pin had a point and a good one, too. HALE PARKER. A SOUTHERN EVENING. Well suh, what ' ll you hab now, de tango? asked Sam grinning from ear to ear. It was a warm summer evening in Kentucky, and all the darkies of the plantation, were gathered in front of the house, entertaining their master. The strumming of the banjos, and the darkies jigging to the lively tunes, threw the scene back about fifty years, in the good oid days befo ' de wa Sam was his master ' s favorite, hav- ing lived with the family all his life. Old Coloned Westcott was fond of all the darkies employed on his plantation, as most of them were direct descendants of his father ' s slaves. The colonel and his little grand- daughter Dixie, sat in the moonlight on the great, wide piazza. Soon the old colonel noticed her little head nodding and as the darkies slowly drifted away to their small cabins, Dixie and the colonel wended their way up the broad staircase, to her dainty little room, where her grand- father had promised to tell her a story of the thrilling days of the war. Outside the big round moon was just coming up over the magnolia trees to shed its brilliance on the sleeping plantation. MARJORIE MOORE. 23 MY DREAM PONY. And over the Bay In twilight gray He came; prancing Tn the glancing Rays of Eventide. His mane did ride On the coming tide; His darkening eyes Were the shades and dyes Of sombre night. But — the sun leapt into the ocean stream; He disappeared in the mists of my dream! CAMILLE HAYNES. A TRIP WEST. Tell me a story, said Bob to his grandpa, tell me something excit- ing. Well, said grandpa, let me think. When I was just a little boy, my mother and father decided to go out west. We started from St. Louis in March hoping to reach California before winter. We sold our home and got a wagon and some oxen. As I loved to ride horseback my father got me a pony. We reached the fort in safety. But we had to wait three days before enough wagons came to make the journey safe. Our wagon was very comfortable. The whole wagon was fixed up like a room. One half of the wagon was a bed on which mother and I slept. Papa slept on the ground with all the other men. Other wagons were fixed differently. At last we started. It was about six o ' clock in the morning. We had our wagons numbered, number one started first and so on. Our wagon 24 THE TARGET was seventh in the caravan therefore we were No. 7. Nothing happened until the twelfth day out. It was about two o ' clock in the morning when my mother awoke me and told me that India ns were about to attack us. The guard had fallen asleep and the Indians had captured him. The guard could not send out an alarm of any kind. Luckily some one got up to get a drink of water and saw an Indian crouching down behind a bush. He immediately warned the other men. And not a minute too soon. Already the Indians had surrounded us and all we could do was to fire. Our wagons drawn up into a circle served as fortifications. There was only one place where we could escape and not more than one or two peoiple could do that. Two men volunteered to try to get to the nearest fort for help. They start- ed and in spite of many dangers suc- ceeded in getting through the circle of Indians and then rode at a break- neck pace for the fort which was quite a distance away. As they Avere going up a hill they saw a bunch of Indians coming down from the other side. There were three of them and at first they were very much alarmed but they came up to them in a friendly manner and told them they were enemies of the trbe w-hich -was fighting us. Their help was asked and granted. In the meantime there had been considerable hard and brave fighting at the camp. The Indians outnum- bered the whites three to one. A shot whizzed over my head and shot a hole through my hat. We were now getting out of am- munition and had to fight more skill- fully. Firing grew- less and the In- dians seeing this came nearer. As we w-ere all interested in what was go- ing on in one place, three Indians came up and frightened us. One man started to shoot but the Indians made a sign of peace. As they came nearer we could see that they were dressed differently from the Indians we were fighting. They told us that the tribe they belonged to were go- ing to help us. Eagerly everybody looked for the C ming of help when I saw off in th-a distance a cloud of dust and hollered, ' There they come. ' Soon there was firing and our enemies, knowing the warriors, fled, and left us to resume our journey. LORAINE CLEAVLAND. HELP YOURSELF. Mother! Mother! exclaimed the baby monkey, isn ' t there anything to eat? Yes! Yes! my little dear, replied the old wise looking mother monkey, but I am not going to get it for you every time you want anything to eat. You just watch me and and learn. You often see me when lean not find any- thing to eat; I just sit quietly and look wise. Then I feel something give me a little nip; then I scratch and scratch, and before you know it I have a big, beautiful fat flea, just the right eating size. Now you try for yourself and see how it goes. But, mother, pleaded the baby monkey, I have never tried it be- fore. But just the same he did try it, and he was so delighted with the result that he tried again, and again, much to the pleasure of the mother monkey, who thought that her baby was the smartest one in the neigh- borhood. GRAFTON CARLISLE. THE TARGET 25 AND HER NAME WAS MAUD. Three pack mules and a saddle horse peacefully stood tied to the rus- tic hitching post, across the street from the general merchandise store and post-office. On the porch of this structure sat the usual loafers, smok- ing and talking while they awaited the incoming stage. Among them was a short middle-aged man ad- dressed as Shorty, who seemed to be the owner of the animals. Goin ' to take the mail and grub over to camp to-day, Shorty? asked one of the loafers. Sure, was the re- ply. At that moment the dusty stage rolled up to the platform, out of which came three pasengers, several boxes and a bag of mail, whose con- tents were dumped on the post-office floor. After waiting about an hour while the store-keeper and postman painfull}- sorted the mail, Shorty re- ceived a bag full which was to be taken to the U. S. Survey camp, a dis- tance of forty miles over the moun- tains. I wouldn ' t trust this sack of mail to any mule but you, Maude, said Shorty as he did the diamond hitch on her pack of mail and grub. After packing the other mules, he mounted his horse and set off up the trail driving them before him, Maude lead- ing. By two o ' clock he had reached the summit or half-way point where the trail began to descend. He was going across a level spot when sud- denly Maude jumped and started off through the trees at full gallop, the other mules following her. Shorty started after them and found they were headed for a nearby cliff which dropped seven hundred feet into the rocky ravine below. Maude ' s a goner, thought Shorty as they near- ed the brink of the cliff; but Maude was not a goner, for she had tried to go between two trees which were not quite far enough apart. The pack stuck and there the animal stood in a per- fect vice. The other mules also stop- ped, and Shorty dismounted to rescue Maude. I never thought that of you, said bhorty as he readjusted the pack re- joicing over the fact that Maud and the mail were not lost. He then re- turned to the trail, and upon coming to the same place, Maude again show- ed signs of fright. Shorty became alarmed, and looking up he saw crouched on a branch above the path, a mountain lion about to spring The driver calmly drew his six-shoot- er and made quick work of the beast. That evening as the men in the U. S. survey camp were eating dinner they heard the tinkle of a mule-bell and knew that a pack train was near. Soon Shorty came galloping in with his three mules. The men made a rush for the mail bag and listened to the driver ' s experience. Maude was much petted, especially by Shorty who gave her an extra large dose of barley and oats. SIDNEY BUCKHAM. THE THRUSH. When the sun is yet asleep When the birds begin to peep ' Tis then the thrush is singing And the solitudes are ringing With his song. After the golden sun is set, Before the grass with dew is wet, Then the thrush his song is singing And the night is quickly bringing Darkness to the living world. ELEANOR MEAD. 26 THE TARGET THE ADVENTUROUS BOWMAN. The Adventurous Bowman stands aloft, On a column of stone so white; By the faith of my body, quothe he one day, ' Tis tiring up here all the night. And as he stood so straight and tall, Very high up aboon, His mind was as busy as could be, Planning for to go doun. And e ' er he thought of it but once, Just once but barely three, He bethought him a way for to get doun, As fast as he could dree. I needs must acknowledge it is a bold feat, To try for to get awa ' ; But if I can do it soon, quoth he, I ' ll be far away by the daw ' . He betook him down the shaft amain, And soon was far over the lee; He went under the sparkling Tower of Jewels, Rested under yon greenwood tree. Next morning, after the cock had crawed, And the world was all astir, The guards looked where the bold Bowman had stood, But alas! he stood there no mair. MURIEL DURGIN. APPEAR BRAVE. Tell me a story, mother, of the time you lived in Kansas among the Indians. Did they frighten you? Well, sonny, I cannot say they frightened me much, save once. You know I have told you about Van, our half-breed cook. His mother was a negro slave to his father who was an Indian. Van taught me to walk; he was very good to me and my baby brother, and one day he saved your grandma ' s life. Tell me the story, mother, do! Well, Van had to go down to the town pump for water as our well was out of order. Your grandma was left alone with your uncle who was a tiny baby and me and there were no •neighbors within calling distance. Suddenly we saw a huge Indian with knives and pistols in his belt standing in the doorway. ' Heap nice squaw! Give me bread, quick. ' Your grandmother certainly tried to be quick, son; I can see her now as she fairly flew getting the things he or- dered. He said, ' Give me coffee, tea, jelly, ' but then came an order she could not fill for he wanted cake. Grandma told him she had none and he came into the room and grabbed hold of her. Just then Van entered with the water which he promptly set down and grabbing Mr. Indian by the seat of the pants and neck band sent him sprawling into the yard. ' Don ' t ever be afraid of Injin, Missy, ' he said, ' they is all cowards if you go at ' em right. ' Then he calmly put the groceries away which your grandma had gotten out. LOUIS LININGER. SAVED BY COOPERATION. Samuels, a story writer, was a man of adventures. In the later years of his life he would tell of his experi- ences in getting material for his stories. One day I heard him tell a gold miner ' s yarn. Once while up in Klondyke in search of a plot for a story, I found for a companion, Sam Simpson. He was tall, muscular and fairly intelli- THE TARGET 27 gent and was always a ringleader in sports for he was well liked by all ex- cept Jack, who was jealous. Sam had sold his claim and now was in search of a new one. Finally he struck a rich river bed so he placed a stick there with his name on paper tacked to it. It so happened that while Sam was on his way to the recording sta- tion, Jack came along and saw the claim. He examined the sand and found it was profitable. ' Now ' s my chance, ' he said, ' I ' ll put my name here and take short cuts and reach the recording station first. ' It happened, however, that they both reached the office at the same time and each recorded the same claim to different clerks at the same time. Then the trouble arose. That evening the head clerk found two men seeking the same grant of land. Something had to be done, for each said the other was not the first to stake the claim. At last after a sort of counsel, it was decided that in order to settle the matter there would have to be a race to the claim and back and the winner receive the claim. Jack, against the rules, had prepared relay canoes and fresh In- dians all along. The men started off, yet with all Jack ' s help he gained very little. Finally the men got tan- gled up in a forest fire and drew knives on each other. It was a ter- rible hour that passed, Sam against Jack and two Indians. Jack ' s help at last deserted on account of the fire, when a large bolder rolled over Sam ' s leg and a falling branch of fire put out Jack ' s eyes. ' Don ' t strike, ' said Jack, ' I ' m blind. Can I not get help? ' I guess we ' re lost for my leg is crushed, ' answered Sam, unless you be my feet and I ' ll be your eyes. ' Jack then put Sam on his back and carried him while Sam did the direct- ing. In this way they got out of the forest fire and then gained help. Jack decided he had played a wrong game all the time so they took the claim as partners after each recovered, and were friends. MERRILL BONER. McKINLEY AVIARY. Speckled Thursh — Arda Bibbins. Woodpecker — George Eldredge. Cuckoo — Ewell Reed. Junco — Harry Jackson. Flycatcher — -Chester Post. Magpie — Marjorie Turner. Roadrunner — Jack Melville. Cardinal — Bernice Higgins. Night Hawk — Van Allen Haven. Red Heron — Morgan Cox. Owl — Noel Morrow. Ostrich — Ed. Barnard. Tree-creeper — Albert Raymond. Loon — Lindsey Campbell. Penguin — Hooper Caine. Bird of Paradise — Dorothy Wal- lace. Humming Bird — Parker Allen. Dipper — Ada Burg. Kingfisher — Fernando Maldonado. Barbara Simpson: Did you know Miss Smith ' s class is going to give ' Cupid and Phizzie ' ? Teacher: Make a sentence and change it to illustrate the impera- tive. Pupil: The horse draws the wagon. Teacher: Change it to illustrate the imperative. ' Pupil: Get up! 28 THE TARGET BASEBALL. Upper row, left to right — John Smith, Edward Cocoran, Harold Gass- away, Cyril Gilsenan, Edward Gove, Richard Erving. Lower row — Melvin Lee, Ewell Reed, Willie Keane, Robert McHenry, George Bliss, Louis Dougherty, Francis Kelsey. BASEBALL. There is the same old trouble this season — not enough school spirit. It has been proved that a team in any kind of athletics can not be suc- cessful unless there is some noise and yelling to cheer the contestants. Baseball especially needs that kind of support as the players always have to be wide awake and on their toes. During the past term there has been only one game where any school spirit was shown at all. At the other games two or three rooters were seen and then some of the boys appeared expecting to play. Owing to the long distance to San Pablo Park where the majority of the con- tests were held, some are excused, but if the boys who have bicycles would appear now and then there would be enough to keep the team in good spirit. Our hardest opponents during the season have been Franklin boys. e were easy victors over the other schools and did not have to worry much about them. The results of the games played are: Franklin — 1. McKinley — 9. Whittier— 0. McKinley— 23. YVhittier forfeited to McKinley. Washington — . McKinley — 8. Franklin — 7. McKinley — 6. Washington — 1. McKinley — . Franklin and McKinley are tied for first place in the league. We also played a game with Wash- ington School of Oakland winning with the score of 7 to 6. We were victors in a contest with the Berke- ley Playground team, making the THE TARGET 29 BASKET-BALL TEAMS. Upper row, left to right — Melvin Lee, Edward Cocoran, Morgan Cox, Cyril Gilsenan, Louis Dougherty, Wickes Glass. Lower row — William Forman, John Smith, George Bliss, Robert Mc- Henry, Edward Gove, Francis Kelsey, Richard Erving. score 10 to 7. Let us hope for school support and plenty of it next year, to shout our team on to victory. ROBERT McHENRY. McKINLEY WINS SCHOOL MEET. The first field day of the interme- diate high schools of Berkeley was held May 18th on the new Univer- sity oval. Teams from McKinley, Washington, Whittier and Franklin schools participated in the field events which were under the direction of Mr. Seawright, physical diector. McKinley took first place with 61 points, Washington second with 37 points, Whittier third with 30 points, and Franklin fourth with 11 points. The work of Jack Melville was es- pecially noteworthy. He won the 50- yard dash, the 100-yard dash and reached the world ' s record for gram- mar schools in winning the 100-yard dash in 10:02 seconds. T. Matthews, Wescott Porter, George Bliss, P. McDonald, L. Daugherty, W. Glass and Harold Gassaway won firsf places and deserve commendation. In- deed we have reason to feel proud of all our boys who permitted our school to be crowned with laurel. Yes, and that was one of the marked results of excellent school support! Our band was there under the leadership of Mice Ellerhorst and played us on to victory; a rooting section kept things lively and yelled us on to victory. Following were the events: Fifty Yard Dash, (80 lbs)— S. Feld- man, Washington; P. Allen, McKin- ley; S. Burr, McKinley. 30 THE TARGET BASKET-BALL TEAMS. Upper row, left to right — Florinne Rayhill, Margaret Wishard, Ethel Kelsey, Lorraine Whipple, Eleanor Stillman, Muriel Durgin, Catherine Harris, Blanch Eastland, Seilgwynn Boynton, Grace Greet, Betty Bar- rows, Jean Scotford, Catherine Butler, Elizabeth Roberts, Dorothy Haya- kawa. Second row — Geraldine Elwell, Grace Scranton, Rhea Boynton, Camille Haynes, Dorothy Belle Tusch, Lois Perce, Isabelle Gall, Alice Queen, Char- lotte Arnold, Amy Horning, Ruth Simpson, Margot Mann, Bettina Col- lom, Gertrude Montgomery. Third row — Enid Browning, Charlotte Thaxter, Beulah Butler, Gladys Alexander, Anna Knoop, Anita Taniere, Bernice Peiser, Sheila Lambert, Isabella Hill, Gertrude Farley, Ruth Scotford, Eleanor Mead. Lower row — Frances Jordan, Florence Thaxter, Gertrude Hatch, Loretta Wardlaw, Anito Foss, Natalie Raymond, Miriam Mack, Eleanor Bonner, Felecia Meikle, Eleanor Ellis. Fifty Yard Dash, (unlimited) — J. Melville, McKinley; S. Emery, Frank- lin; T. Wayland, Washington. Fifty Yard Dash, (90 lbs)— T. Matthews, McKinley; L. Hughes, Whittier; J. Thorton, Washington. 100 Yard Dash, (110 lbs.)— L. Hoff- man, Washington; P. Sutton, Whit- tier; S. Wayland, Washington. Relay (90 lbs) — Washington, Mc- Kinley, Whittier. 100 Yard (unlimited)— J, Melville, McKinley; J. Wayland, Washington; S. Emery, Franklin. Relay, (110 lbs.)— Whittier, Wash- ington, McKinley. 100 Yard Dash, (100 lbs.)— L. Hughes, Whittier; C. Maden, Wash- ington; P. Boren, McKinley. 880 Yard Run — Ross Darret, Frank- lin; H. Kelsey, McKinley; C. Mc- Question, Franklin. Obstacle Race — L. Dougherty and Wikes Glass, McKinley; Whittier, Washington. Relay, (unlimited) — McKinley, Washington, Franklin. THE TARGET 31 Running Broad Jump, (110 lbs.) — W. Porter, McKinley, Hoffman, Washington, E. Vau, Whittier. Broad Jump, (unlimited) — C. Moss, Whittier; L. Daugherty, McKinley; B. Derbridge, Washington. Running High Jump, (unlimited) — G. Bliss, McKinley; P. Crandall, Whittier; E. Reed McKinley. Running High Jump, (110 lbs.) — P. McDonald, McKinley; W. Porter, McKinley; F. Brunk, Washington. Throwing Baseball for Distance — H. Gassaway, McKinley; C. Neu- writh, Washington; H. Sinclair, Whittier. It is hoped the University authori- ties will permit us to use the oval each term and so enable us to have the field days annual events. Hurrah! for the Black and Red, McKinley is again ahead. GIRLS ' BASKET-BALL. Since the last issue of the Target, our girls have played two games with the Richmond High School. In the senior contest the visiting team was victorious with a score of 27 to 18. The juniors met and our Richmond guests were again successful with a score of 23 to 11. The names for the two Low Sev- enth basket-ball teams were inadvert- ently omitted from the last number of our paper. The players of Section A are: Nat- alie Raymond (captain), Gertrude Montgomery, Felicia Meikle, Loretta Wardlaw, Eleanor Stillman, Catherine Harris, Dorothy Hayakawa, Vivian Thaxter, and Margaret Wishard. In Section B: Anita Foss, Captains Enid Browning, Miriam Mack, Eleanor Bonner, Elizabeth Roberts, Margaret Phinney, Edith Wieland, Gertrude Hatch and Florinne Rahill. A WINTER EVENING. Outside, the wind roared and blew, shaking the rafters, tearing around the corners of the house, and shriek- ing like some mad thing let loose. The snow was swirled and heaped against the window pane until it seemed as if the glass would break with the pres- sure. We could hear an occasional crack of a tree limb torn away by the storm. Now it was quiet, very quiet, then the wind came with terrific force carrying all small objects in its path. The sleet and snow fell harder, the beams and rafters groaned, keeping time with the wind. Now, it was snowing steadily and the wind did not come in sudden gusts, but roared steadily on. Inside, we huddled close to the fire. To pass the long winter evening we roasted chestnuts, popped corn and grandfather told us stories; stories of Indians that scalped white people, stole children and burned and sacked villages; also of witches and ghosts until we did not dare look behind us, and every creak and noice had a sinister sound. The shrieking wind seemed to be an Indian giving his war cry and bearing down on a helpless little child. The creaking of branches seemed like the cackling laugh of the witches, the moaning boughs were goblins celebrating the capture of a bad boy who would not say his pray- ers. Then it was time to go to bed. The lights were put out and we hurried to bed, leaving the storm to roar on in darkness. DOROTHY MANASSE. EXPOSITION SMILES. Near-sighted old lady, (watching chickens being roasted on spit over the fire): Oh they ' re roasting the chickens alive. Look at them jump- ing around in the fire. 32 THE TARGET AWAKE! At last the sleeping flowers, Have wakened up again And come to deck my lady ' s bower, Refreshened by the rain. The birds are singing in their nests, And all the world seems glad, For busy bees there is no rest, And not a thing is sad. MURIEL DITZLER. A LOST TREASURE. Captain Jeffries was very sick, so r.ick that he had to leave duty, even his beloved art to enter the hospital. As he improved, in his joy at a sick leave he thought he could even stand a thirty-day voyage on a transport, to be able to pursue art. As time hung heavily until the de- parture, he took to collecting his pads, pencils and brushes. Then, waiting impatiently for the day, he thought to improve his mind by lec- turing on art to his fellow patients. They, nevertheless, did not seem re- sponsive for when he began they dropped off to sleep as if by magic! In vain our brave captain hoped but, in spite of that, he continued his art. At the end of three months, forced to give up the thought of sick leave and, exasperated, he demanded of the doctor, You knew I needed a rest! Then why didn ' t you Oh, shucks, interrupted the doc- tor, I would have let you go but you did Brown so much good by putting him to sleep every day, it was best to detain you. Anyway Brown need- ed a rest more than you. Right then and there art lost one of its followers. The captain has not since lectured or tried to do any drawing, but I suppose that was need- less to say. LUCILLE SLEEPER. THE EXPOSITION AT NIGHT. The Exposition appears to me most beautiful and fairy-like at night. As 1 look at the many wonderful build- ings, I cannot help wondering if the palaces described in the Arabian Nights, were half as beautful. As the golden moon shines over the fountains and gardens it is easy to believe, that here, the fairies hold gay revels, when mortals are asleep and dreaming. Hark! was that not fairy music? But no, again we listen, and ' twas but the faint silver tinkle of water falling into the marble basin of a fountain. I really think the fairies do come here at night, when the gates are closed, and all mortals sleep. Here they come now, some creep- ing from tulips which are fairy cradles. They come out quietly, and can be seen, only by those who be- lieve in them. See them dressed in golden poppy petals, and some in purple pansies! Now they creep around the ferns, hunting for fern seeds, for an old legend says, If a mortal makes fern-seed tea, and leaves it where the fairies can get it, they will grant this mortal any wish, so fond are they of the tea. ALICE MEANS. MORNING. In a canyon cool and cheery, By a river swift and deep, There the cooling breezes whisper Songs, and w r ake the trees from sleep. Coming slowly down the mountain, In a path of radiant light, Comes the sun in robes of glory, Making all the world seem bright. GEORGE ELDRERGE. THE TARGET 33 TARGET STAFF. Upper row, left to right — Ruth Sorrick, Editha Brown, Wheeler Jen- sen, Arthur Parsons (Editor), Lawson Poss, Harry Jackson, Carl Beyer. Second row — Helen Street, Faith Milliken, Phyllis Mcintosh, James Lawson (Manager), Van Allen Haven, Noel Morrow, Donald Kitzmiller, Winifred Wishard. Lower row — Katherine Rhodes, Jean Waste, Helen Lightner, Dorothy Staats, Lucille Sleeper, Alice Greer, Isabella Hill, Nancy Booth. ADVISORY BOARD. Mr. Clark Principal Miss Christy Teacher The McKinley School Mothers ' Club has been proving to us the value of such an organization. The mem- bers recently presented the music de- partment with a gift of thirty dollars with which Miss Ellerhorst bought an A clarinet for the orchestra and two double clarinet leather cases. This club also prepared the refreshments, which consisted of ice cream and cake, when our girls met the Richmond teams. The mothers have thus prov- ed to us that when they know our needs their aim is to assist in supply- ing them. Their efforts are thor- oughly appreciated and the Target wishes , in behalf of the students of the school, to thank the members of the Mothers ' Club for their thought- fulness and generosity. PEACE DAY. On the afternoon of May eighteenth an assembly was held to foster and intensify the spirit of peace in our midst. The program was as follows: Chorus ... Song of Peace Band Selection, March Our Director ' , Chorus Allah by Chadwick Address on Peace. ...by Mr. R. C. Root THE TARGET 34 Chorus Peace Band Selection America The audience heard with pleasure the interesting talk on the causes of the terrible conflict now raging in Europe. The speaker, Mr. Root, is the Pacific Coast Secretary of the American Peace Society. McKINLEY SCHOOL FUND. Receipts. Dec. 1, 1914, balance on hand $16.79 Apr. 30, 1915, collection 9.11 Total ......$25.90 Expenditures. Basket-ball nets $ .50 Basket-ball 6.00 Tennis balls 50 Basket 2.00 Baseball mask 4.00 Baseballs 5.00 Repairs 60 Incidentals 30 $18.90 Balance $ 7.00 A minister, illustrating his sermon, told how a hunting dog scented the quail and pointed when the hunters had been unable to locate them. He appealed to a small boy for the rea- son. The boy replied impressively: The dog had brains. THE LAST WILL AND TESTA- MENT OF THE HIGH NINTH CLASS. We, the illustrious class of 1915, being of full age, sound of mind and memory, do make this our last will and testament. To you, the in- fants of the Christmas Class of 1915. who are to follow us on your weak and tottering legs, with your arms outstretched appealing for mercy and guidance, we leave a portion of our accumulated wisdom ,and acquired talents. Looking down from the heights we have attained, we see pit- falls to which your innocent feet may lead. W ' e counsel you from the full- ness of our experience, — do not cheat, bluff, or attempt to ride gayly through school, on a pony. Such an animal is liable to prove frisky and leave you stranded in a bog of exams., feebly calling on Pegasus for help. Having thus advised you, we leave in fear and trembling as we watch the foundations of our beloved school quiver. It will be necessary for you to remove the bricks from your heads and endure growing pains that in some limited, ineffectual way you may be prepared to take our place. Now, we release all claim on these our worldly goods, which we do be- stow, hoping they will help you in some small measure to realize the enormity and importance of your new position. Mildred Whittaker wills her loy- alty to the Whittier School, thinking she may possibly enter into the spirit of the B. H. S., and a few curling kids, to Allie Pet Ponsi. Tommie Barrows parts with his critical mathematical attitude, and his puzzling history questions due to his waning historical knowledge, for the improvement of Lucian East- land. Ruth Bowcn bequeaths that angelic expression, coupled with a simple and unaffected air, and those pleasant re- marks showered upon the deaf ear of that lady by Herbert Daube, to Harry Harriett Shafsky. Blake Curley ' contributes her com- mand of the needle to Walter Cos- tello for use in mending that oft- noted rip in his coat. Alfred Alice Cupid White passes THE TARGET 35 on his position as class dude and a quiver well filled with golden arrows, to Abe Lincoln Soo-Hoo. Arda Bibbins has left her freckles which so suddenly disappeared a short time ago, al;so ! that birthday ring set with Tiffany ' s cracked ice, to Muriel Collins. Donald Kitzmiller leaves his ability to make sounds come out of a saxo- phone to any one who wants the job. Let us note that his prompt and grateful reception of the gift by last year ' s will was most praiseworthy. Ruth Scotford bequeaths her fond- ness for frequent change of residence in the classroom to make new friends, and her ardent desire to be the cen- ter of a youthful congregation, to Madlina Mack Scrantom. George Eldredge wills his passion for prize package prose and a checker-board, also a sombrero, lest the recipient may become addicted to the use of freckle exterminator, to Fred Edinger. Dick Erving says, My art of wrest- ing bicycles from small boys easily disciplined, a razor frequently used for agricultural purposes, also my fondness for witnessing girls ' basket- ball games ,all go to friend Claude of the Canavan family. Inez Ferris announces, You can weigh exactly what you should, and this information gained from the Cocroft studio of Chicago, based upon the negative lunch idea, will soon be in possession of Mary Embry Bell. Lake Gill Bestows his English overcoat, which on its journey across the seas was shrunk by the war-tax, to Cyril Dutch Gilsenan. Kennie Graham, the lost bride- groom, leaves his debutant slouch, a season ticket to sixth period study, also thirty-five cents donated by friends for his hair cut, to Arthur Hurt. Olga Hansen wills the solution of the mysterious attraction on Shat- tuck Avenue which calls for those speedy sprints at noon, to Victor Strite. Helen Hebe Ingham yields those painful periods of pass practice to conscientiously observed to acquire a proper intonation with which to im- press the girls of McKinley City, to Bernice Batsy Jackson that proud possessor of a rich melodious voice. Judy-Bug Lee, who hasn ' t scratch- ed yet, hands down a dainty little cup of custard to Ruth Holman. Annvonette Bates transmits her red tie that so soothingly blends with her locks of doubtful auburn, to Nancy Lloyd. A military coat, a brown velvet tan and about a dozen curls — spells whom? As Phyllis Mcintosh wishes to lose her identity at B. H. S., she cheerfully leaves the afore-mentioned articles, together with her melancholy English purr, to Marian Carter. Gertrude Fant lets loose that frizzy front that lasted but a day, and her calm assurance in Latin, for the ad- vantage of Priscilla Fran Collom. Fern Puff Hicks casts aside that Aethiope complexion to save her the trouble of remaining indoors during the summer to remove it, those rich eyes and the variety of tongues — gained in other men ' s countries, for Daryl Pettit to find. Gladys Alexander, guardian Gabriel of study four, who to satisfy her thirst for knowledge is a faithful at- tendant at a local night school, be- queaths a portion of said love of learning to William Keane. If only the} ' - would come soft and low and with a few intermissions, 36 THE TARGET we feel sure that Amelia Bernard ' s noon concerts on month-organ and guitar would be more appreciated. She is planning to place the burden of all future entertainments upon the broad shoulders of Helen Lightner. It is Irene Tush ' s wail, What pas- sion hangs these weights upon my tongue? Gladly she leaves this im- pediments to Carl Beyer. George Bliss pleads, All this I give you — my supply of spelling and English knowledge — for the burden is greater than I can bear. Take it and cherish my memory, Noel Tub Morrow. Frances Block gives that special dispensation for noon chats with the Boss of the Road to any one who would enjoy it. Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold, abhor it — fear it — leave it behind when you depart for B. H. S. Such is our advice to Marie Myers. As a recipient we suggest Chester Post. Marie states that a visit from Somnus now and then varies the monotony of class drudgery. Per- haps Chester would enjoy that god ' s hypnotic call to the land of nod. Emily Noble, that sun-kist maid, knowing that excessive laughter is folly bequeaths the germ to Nancy Booth. All-Nutmeg Nuttall, who is not all her name implies, comes out of her shell long enough to call the atten- tion of Eunice Tipps to the merits of a certain youth of the 8th grade. Arthur Parsnips Parsons leaves those long transient trousers, which he discarded at the end of the second day fearing he might trip over the extension, to Laurence Kett. Wescott Whiskey Porter endows Irving Jurgensen with his hurdling ability and suggests that Mr. Clark use the athletic fund to purchase a derrick for the purpose of hoisting the feet of that youth of trombone fame - i JM Moses Rex Rey states, My Eng- lish may not be there but the facts are straight when I don ' t get them crooked, and passes on his bull-frog bellow to Arthur Barry. Harriett Bags Jackson, that mot- ley-minded gentleman, as he no longer believes in special privilege, leaves his permit to enter all shows by the greased pig route and his hasty pudding love affairs, to Van Snookum Haven. Albert Flea Raymond sings, Seek me with candle, John Hercules Smith, and I ' m the man to teach you the new crab-apple crawl. Pep, pep, my kingdom for pep! is Ruth Sorrick ' s pet slogan. As she will only be a scrub next year, and realizing it is well to be modest and retiring at such a time, she grudgingly yields a portion of her superfluous tobasco to Dorothy Wallace. With a smile on her lips and music in her heart Jean AVaste leaves us, not without urging Gertie-Dick Var- ley to accept a tiny smile and a wee bit of music for future use. Dame Rumor has an able assistant in Annabel Gaw, who keeps Mc- Kinley in a turmoil with her accum- ulated gossip. To hold down this position one must have a runaway tongue and so this gift is left to Georgie Towle. Wikes Glass wills his boss of the road air as president, and that shoe- horn for use in placing a hat on his inflated dome, to Ralph Hagin. Jack Holman with is shinning morning face says, Good morning, Texas-Lou Dougherty, have you used THE TARGET 37 Pears? If not, I ' ll give you a cake, it ' s so good for one ' s complexion. Mr. Douglos quite contrary, How does your garden grow? With lettuce leaves and radishes And cabages all in a row. That garden fair With the privilege rare Of cutting school for days To cultivate that patch of weed, He leaves to Ewell Reed . Sheila Lambert wills that pair of sympathy-producing crutches to Leo- nore Pfister, to be used only during physical torture period and by no means during the time for basket- ball. With a little practice they can be used quite skillfully. It is always praiseworthy to be original, Muriel Ditzler ' s originality takes the form of her walk. We feel sure that she isn ' t old and decrepit, yet at times we are forced to doubt her youth. This charming gift to- gether with her discarded tresses goes to some person of note. Ora Chang refuses to pose any longer as a weeping Niobe and be- queaths those self-filling eye effects to Jane Buster Lawson. Elva Busch sends that hair style which appears to many tender-eyed persons as a ooughriui to Elsbelh Schnei der. Ellwyn Anthony, the heavyweight, says that although his conceit may be nearer death than his powers, never- theless that big manly voice turning again toward childish treble with a pipe and whistle in its sound, ought to go to Lawrence Durgin. William Lefty Forman leaves his beloved bow tie to the school museum if Louis Lininger does not wish it. Helen Street wills her blinding blazer with much love and a spare kiss to Katherine Rhodes . Leslie Alexander passes on a keen interest in tabernacle services and a hat of blue which tops his cedar-mop to Ralph Hagin. Lester Browning donates all volun- teer service to Flea Raymond when a cone is in sight, and his Janus-like attitude, to Melvin Lee. Deciding that her ability to escape the subscription list of the Target is no longer needed, Giddy Betty Garden leaves it to Florence Brown. Is that a horse I hear? Oh no! It ' s only that patented snort which Irene Paret wills to Leonore Pfister so that the recipient may lead the German choir for the mother ' s club with greater ease. Lucille Polly Sleeper leaves her marvelous faculty for gathering jokes from the Joke Publishing Co. be- fore Target meetings to Isabella Hill. Gait Bell, our spare-rib Adonis, feeling that doublet and hose ought to show itself attractive to petticoat, beqeauths a package of Diamond Dyes to produce those zebra hair ef- fects that he has found so alluring, to Herbert McCormick. Possibly a fair damsel ' s picture will find its way to Herbert. Morgan Rusty Cox, with locks of Judas hue, bequeaths his daily privi- lege of interviewing the Campanile to Tommie Cleverdon. Wheeler Jensen says There is a reason — Grape-Nuts and Instant Postum are responsible for my satis- factory store of brain fruit. The sup- ply is to be yours, Avis Rhodehaver. Dorothy Staats, alias Dodo Tacks, sighs at the thought, but gives by testament her lemon, Chinese — strwberry — banana joke and a prom- enade with parsnips, chaperoned by flea, to Katherine Rhodes. Dorothy Henderson ' s Herculean 38 THE TARGET muscular development necesary to subdue Carl Beyer in a pugilistic round, must go to Catharine Mc- Manus. Her tiny Mary-Janes will go to the same young lady, who, too, re- joices in small pedal extremities much to the envy of Louise Park. Marjorie Herrmann, scatter a smile now and then on the Low Ninth babes and that they ' ll live upon. Give those naughty infants an idea of per- fection and your benediction. Lady-Bug Larkc, that vain carpet knight, with some woeful ballads in his poke, realizing that he is in a parlous state, leaves his ability to es- cort five girls to their homes at the same time, to Grafton Diddles Car- lisle. Adalene Lewis declares she hasn ' t a kink or a curl too many, but she may deign to spare a few to serve as a halo for Florence Brown. Sam McRae, knowing that good pasture makes fat sheep, feels that U-needa Biscuit, Oliver Chang, and sets aside for you a box of cookies. That rare fellow values your opinion highly and asks you the burning question, Is my head worth a hat, or my chin a beard? Roy Converse leaves his ear-split- ting purple socks and suit, with hat to match, to any deaf comrade who is willing to remain in basement se- clusion while arrayed in those regal robes. Herbert Daube, our supreme ego, our fashion plate, bequeaths those stairs by which he ascended to so- ciety ' s creamy heights, and the title of leading Adonis, to meandering Leander Morse. John Madden, of world-wide tennis fame deposits that and his ability to raise a racket in favor of James Law- son. Thomas Edwards releases all claim on Charlie Chaplin ' s gallant gait and a tweed lounging suit in favor of an admirer of both — Lawson Poss. George Thompson, that political fan and Pankhurst advocate, yields the ease with which he avoided the persistent hat at political gatherings to Edward Cochran, for he now has more faith in the wise saw, A fool and his money are soon parted. Alfredus Sub Colle (Underhill), our melancholy Jaques, bequeaths a few of his private opinions especially re- served for character books to Henry Snyder. He wails, I am for other than for dancing measures! and passes over that recently-acquired grace in the art of Terpsichore to the aforenamed Henry. Mary Kathryn Walkup leaves her unquenchable appetite for candy, eclairs, ice cream cones, canned soups and wienies, to Georgia Bickel, be- cause in Indiana a feast of reason and a flow of soul are quite sufficient. Sidney Brown, realizing at last that omittance is no quittance, settles his various and sundry debts upon Wilfred Woodward, believing that out of his great love for him they will be paid. Mildred Black leaves her preposess- ing manner to Mae Dimples Davis, who suggests that Mildred try Her- picide for that rapidly failing hair. That little chatterbox Beulah But- ler leaves her loquacious disposition to Lucille Anema, as she has decided to believe in the old proberb Silence is golden that so strongly appeals to Harry Jackson. Phyllis Mcintosh, that shy maid, condesends to part with her melan- choly purr for the benefit of Bud Mc- Henry. THE TARGET 39 Grace Mills wills that royal purple robe, colloquially known as a shirt- waist, to Kijo Uyeyama, intimating that it may serve as a kimono. Evelyn Mitchell, the AIcKinley Daily News, has resigned in favor of Muriel Snook, hoping that she wiil maintain her predecessor ' s record for never missing any spicy bits of infor- mation. Blanche Tomaire bequeaths that $2.50 that did not find its way to the athletic fund of Room 2, and a few crisp twenty-dollar bills which she so ostentatiously displays, to William Thompson. Parker Germ Allen wills ye Swit- zerland socks and that superfeminine voice which has been considered loud- er than any lady ' s in the class to Law- son Poss. Minnie Chan leaves the secret of acquiring long locks to George Hop- ping, whose semi-annual hair bobs have been a source of great distress to his classmates. Millie Tremp wills her black and white stripes to John Smith hoping he will have no use for them in later years. The art of pin-penmanship and her endearing vocabulary are passed to Velma Bishop. Robert McCullough leaves the for- est primeval which grows on his head to Arthur Orpheus Gunderson. Carl, of Old Faithful Geiser fame, delivers that penguin running gate as a substitute for Sidney Buckham ' s fox trot. He wishes to announce to Chester Post, his successor as offi- cial fly-catcher, that the time for the fly swatting campaign is at hand. George Cvach bequeaths that wild- cat which he caught while roaming along the Tunnel Road the days he was too feeble to find his way to Mc- Kinley, to the school museum. Standish Dish Donogh, who smiles at miles, bestows the reckless man- ner in which he drives his jitney, and numerous cows and chickens, victims of his celerity, to Stanly, that the family record may still be upheld. Viola Grady has made Gertrude Green residuary legatee of her airy, fairy coyness as well as her transient curls with the hope that they will become her. Anna Knoop bestows her voice like winds in summer sighing on Ruth Jackman. Lula Madison casts that manner suggesting the mills of God grind slowly but they grind exceeding small upon Helen Newlon. Philip Ramsdell settles upon Noel Morrow my uncle ' s phantom Olds- mobile, that car with a conscience, and the right of way on the blazed trail to North Berkeley. Lilian McHoul, that Highland las- sie, wills her flaming sweater to Helen Noodles Newlon with the strict injunction that she avoid the barnyard and cow pasture. Willa Middlehoff thinks that Sidney Buckham might enjoy the latest At- alanta Amble art. Harold of Payneful look and mien, Sherlock ' s only rival, leaves his knowledge of code interpretations to William Biddle. Bernice Peiser permits Mae Dim- ples Davis to receive that spirit of rivalry revealed in German dramatics when Bernice so coveted the role of maid. David Sclater, our Endymion, famed for his fair golden locks, would give Leander Morse his automobile if he thought it would serve to foster the habit of punctuality. However he refuses to part with his beloved coast- er which he still enjoys and manipu- lates with childish glee on the Up- lands. 40 THE TARGET Ruth Stewart, whose voice is ever soft, gentle and low— an excellent thing in woman — donates that coy toss of head and winsome nod so art- fully affected for book review periods, to Arthur Hurt. From mother to daughter, from daughter to younger daughter, from younger daughter to still younger daughter, has come a certain rose sweater. Louise Park feeling that it has served its time in their family promises that it shall go to the high- est bidder. Possibly Winifred Wish- ard will gain it. Jerry Quillinan sends a supply of educator dog biscuits and hygienic crackers to any one who wishes for them more than herself. Anita Taniere bequeaths a truck load of candy to Daryl Pettit to con- sume during sixth period history hour. Crispolo Garsulo, deprived of the warmth of his native clime, often seeks comfort for his chattering bones in the basement furnace. This place is left to any one of frosty dis- position wishing to be thawed out, possibly Wilfred Canadian Wood- ward. O knowledge ill inhabited, worse than Jove in a thatche ' d house! But Beverly Chico Clarke has the goods and his generous spirit prompts him to reliquish a portion for the edifica- tion of Irving Somnus Jurgenson. Charlotte Thaxter bequeaths a sup- ply of Hershey ' s to be secreted in the desk and eaten only during recitation periods to Arthur Barry. Robert Thompson wills his ability to evade discipline in music much to the ditsress of many innocent victims, to Campanile Cleverdon. Alice Wittenburg, with that studi- ous stoop, gives a supply of stylish and up-to-date footwear, to be left in a cool place, to Gertrude Greenfield. Henry Holm, the proud possessor of the watch that made the dollar famous, wills his violet-like attitude which caused the modest youth to have his picture taken by proxy in the School City group, fearing he might inflict injury upon the camera, to Walter Costello. But in spite of this thoughtfulness the picture was spoiled. Alice Greer, our athletic queen, settles her tennis championship upon Ruth Jackman who bids to be world famous as a wielder of the racquet. Editha Brown says that the con- cluding A of her name and a nose- gay of sunflowers to be presented to some world-famous nightingale, pre- ferably Schumann-Heink, will soon fall to the lot of Leonore, soon-to-be Leonora Pfister. Marjorie Turner, who dabbles in art from timeto time, leaves the luck- bringing bell of the ball, symbolic of the telephone and the many conversa- tions with its donor, to Muriel Gum- mie Snook. Howard Irwin leaves his permanent permit for rides on the Queen of the Pacific to Lawrence Kett and his fiddle. Faith Milliken deprives herself of those unruly pumps, frequently vacat- ed during study periods, also her mot- to, Don ' t squeeze your feet! for the comfort of Florence Brown. Hale and Hearty Parker can re- commend the value of hunting and hiking for the development of a firm note in his childish treble and the soothing of quivering knees. This in- formation he yields to Ewell Reed. (Signed) The June Class of Nineteen Fifteen. THE TARGET 41 BOB ' S AMBITION. One day in the year 1862, (this was before the trains crossed the United States, and mail had to be carried by Pony Express Riders,) Bob Smith was riding slowly through the hills. He had his gun over his arm, and was keeping a good lookout for In- dians. While riding along, he came sud- denly on the body of a Pony Express Rider lying with an arrow through his heart. His horse was standing peacefully under a tree near by. Knowing that the rider was carry- ing a bag of gold from a mine near there, Bob ran to the rider ' s horse and looking into the saddle-bags saw that the gold and mail had not been touched. He at once seized them, and throwing them across his own saddle, urged his horse on towards the next Pony Express Station. He had not been riding fifteen min- utes, when he heard a loud war- whoop behind him. Looking around, he saw five Indians chasing nim. Suddenly he heard a whizzing through the air, and an arrow landed a short dstance in front of him. He picked up his gun and turning in his sad- dle took as careful aim as possible and fired. The bullet did no harm, but it made the Indians drop back. On and on he rode, it seemed as if he had ridden miles and miles. Gradually the Indians crept closer firing an occasional arrow. Just as Bob was entering his last quarter of a mile to the station, he felt a stinging pain in his shoulder. As he rode on, he felt himself grow- ing weaker, but he saw as through a mist the station but a little distance ahead. The next thing Bob knew, he was lying in a warm bed, and some one was saying, We must sign that boy up as a Pony Express Rider at one hundred dollars a month. Bob had reached the station safely with the gold and mail, but was un- conscious when lifted from the sad- dle He now realized his one am- bition in life, that of being a Pony Express Rider ,was fulfilled. RICHARD DUNN. THE JONQUIL AND THE PANSY AT THE EXPOSITION In one of the beautiful gardens op- posite the great Tower of Jewels, stood a tall stately jonquil. Every morning he lifted his golden head to the sparkling tower wishing he had a companion. One day a man came with many smalli green sprouts in a basket. He spaded around the jonquil until the ground was very soft. He then plant- ed one of the dainty pansy sprouts right next to the jonquil and when the man left, the jonquil assumed the right of caring for the tiny pansy as yet, but the jonquil kept watching it each day. He was very thankful for a companion. At last the day came when the jon- quil saw a bud on the plant. Two days later it blossomed into a lovely purple and white pansy. The pansy and the jonquil became great friends. One day there were great crowds at the Exposition, and the jonquil was afraid his beautiful lady would be crushed under the treading of their feet. But evening came a f1 the pansy was still safe. There has indeed been a large 42 THE TARGET crowd today, said the jonquil, when they could at last breathe freely. Yes, replied Miss Pansy, but I like the large crowds because there is some one to look at us and admire us. I came from the great city. I was very happy, because my brothers, sisters and friends were there and we had a very jolly time. Then one day, we were taken away from there. My brothers, sisters and friends were parted from me and I have not seen them since. I am happy here now because I am living at the great Jewel City. Then the jonquil began his story. When I first came here, I was only a bulb and I had lived here all alone until you came. Then I was happy indeed. I have been happy ever since. I trust we shall be happy the coming year, living here in this garden ,as no one can be very dull at such a jolly place as this Exposition. CAROLINE McCONNELL. FAIR CUPID ' S MESSENGER. There is a very young shark Who Latin translates in the dark, — Amo is— I love, Columba ' s — a dove; The name of this youth — it is Larke. There is a young fellow named Larke Who walks with the girls in the park. AVith them he does stand , And at times holds a hand, This flirty young fellow named Larke. Miss Harris: I want you to do this sympathetic division for to-morrow. James Lawson: I ' ll try r to do this sympathetic division but if I can ' t I ' ll do as many as I can. Frances Jordan (in history): The people were starving with hunger. Mr. Cobert: What gender is ' pirate ' ? Henry Snyder: Feminine. Mr. Cobert: ] ' I didn ' t know there were lady pirates. Miss Fisher (after fire-drill): The hose fell down. It wanted to go to the fire. Air. Cobert: How many men were in a legion? Henry Snyder: ' One and a half. ' Mr. Beardsley: The work of edu- tion is next. Harry Jackson: Education is cer- tainly work. Thomas Edwards (in the country) : There is another gray heron. Hooper Caine: It must be some old bird to have gray heron (hair on)! Is your father a ' Mason ' ? No, he is an ' Odd Fellow ' ! Oh, I know, papa is queer too! Mother (to daughter): Mary, did you swallow your gum? Mary: No, I ate it! Miss Mayne (in study): The place for notes is in your music book! Mr. Beardsley (in history): The wild cat period was a period when cats no banks — sprung up all over the country! Low 6th Grader: I have heard that when Vesuvius and Aetna erupt, all the people become sterilized. THE TARGET 43 Minnie Chan: Oh what do you think! Dorothy ' s heel came off. Wheeler Jensen (in history): They purposely planted hills in the trees. Frau Skeehan: What are you go- ing to be? William Biddle: What ' s the word for ' millionaire ' ? Mr. Breadsley: They were nice to the Indians but did not allow them to be too familiar — you know — fresh. Crispolo (in English class): Jaques stood up and began crowing like a hen. 1st tourist (on ferry boat): What ' s that tall white thing against the hills? (meaning the campanile.) 2nd tourist: Well I don ' t know. I wonder if they have a graveyard over there? 1st Tourist: I don ' t know. It ' s either a graveyard or an incinerator. Miss Christy: What does this mean: — ' but at this hour the house doth keep itself.? Howard Irwin: Nobody home! SONG HITS THAT HIT! I ' m on th Way to Dublin Bay — Marc Sherwood. My Hindoo Man — Herbert Mc- Cormick. Everybody Rag with Me. — Thos. Edwards. When I was a Dreamer — Her- bert Daube. The Whirlwind — James Lawson. I ' ll Do the Same Thing Over Again — Dick Erving. He Comes Up Smiling — Fern- ando Maldonado. Rufus Johnson ' s Band — Arthur Gunderson. Laddie — Van Allyn Haven. This Is the Life — Lawson Poss. I Want to Go to Tokio — Morgan Cox. I Love the Ladies — Harvey Larke. I Want to Go Back to Michigan — Alfred White. I Want to Linger — Parker Allen. I had a Wonderful Girl — Philip Ramsdell. PROMPTINGS OF PEGASUS. Allie, Allie the tailor ' s daughter Wore new clothes oftner she oughter, They wore out and so did she, All on account of vanity. Christine Staats so timid and shy, Always dreaming, I wonder why? Her cheeks are pink and her eyes are blue, You never know what she ' ll say or do. May Davis is a dainty maiden, Her head with little curls is laden. Her smile is everlasting, But her eyes are often casting Looks of considerable pride. Into the mirror which seems her guide. Anna gave a book report; It was nice and not too short. The hero died but nobody cried ' Cept Anna Love — For why he left this mortal sphere Did not reach our listening ear, Or Anna ' s eye. TO SAM McRAE. There is a brave butcher named Sam, Who sure has a hand like a ham. If he hits you a lick ' Twill sure make you sick, Though he talks as much as a clam. 44 THE TARGET Every one should wear with pride a little safety pin Although it stick you sometime and hurt you quite like sin. But if a bullet hit it at any time and burst, You ' d be right glad, I vow you would, that it hit Safety First. TO PHILIP RAMSDELL. There is a spry sparrow named Phil Who has an automobile. He goes out to ride With a girl at his side, This speed} young fellow called Phil. Jolly old Noel Wore a merry young soul, A gay, sparkling youth was he; He never did borrow any trouble for morrow. For never a three got he. There is a boy in our school Who thinks he ' s wondrous wise; If I say it ' s Tommy Cleverdon, You ' ll sure show no surprise. Dorothy Henderson walked up the street; Dorothy Henderson fell over her feet. All of our effort and all of our strength Failed to lift Dorothy stretched out at length. TO IRVING JURGENSON. Irving had a trombone, He shined it bright, you know; And when he went to school one day The trombone h ad to go. He brought it out in chorus And played it loud and clear — The long-drawn, mellow, calf-like notes Were laughable to hear. The children laughed so loud at it, That Irving grew quite red; Great beads of perspiration sat Upon his litle head. Now when he ' d finished one short piece Fast to his seat he fled, For we could not appreciate A union man, he said. Edith Brown (to Lorena Edwards combing her hair) : Oh, look at the size of it! Miss Ellerhorst to Low 9th Class: What ' s the matter, class, has the rain gone to your brain? Beverly Clark: Yes, we have water on the brain! Alfred Lnderhill: The Treveri were gathering large supplies of cavalry- and feet. Olga Hansen (rushing madly into the room) : Oh, Geraldine ' s ribbon is running. Mr. Cobcrt: What are the columns at the Greek Theater? Ruth Gorrick: Doric pillars. Mr. C: Why are they called that? Harry- Jackson: Because they ' re near the door! Miss Ellerhorst to the Glee Club: You will be seated in tiers. Morgan Cox looking at some Latin sentences on the board: — Shall we translate them into English? Mr. Cobert: — No, into Greek.