Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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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.

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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.

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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.