Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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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.

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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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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?