Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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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.

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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.

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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.