Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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THE TARGET 15 Horrible tales of kidnapping and murders came rushing into my brain at once. My wild imagination had me stolen, executed, and devoured in the short space of a moment. What should I do? It was im- possible to jump out as we were traveling too fast for that. I dared not call for help as my coolie might have choked me, and anyway, who could have heard me? I could only be as calm as possible and take things as they came. In the morn- ing the news of my murder would be spread, my friends would weep and bemoarn my fate, my funeral — Hotel, Missy. Why, I exclaimed increduously, the hotel! I ' m at my own door! FRANCES B. SEYMOUR. Let the flowers give their place That Capt. Spud may have more space. SPRING. Before us stretched the beautiful plains. The sun had just risen in the distance from behind the moun- tains above; there was nothing but the blue sky with spotless white clouds floating in the south. On earth, the fresh little blades, of green grass were seen coming up. As one looked, one beheld all the colors that Nature had given to flowers. The birds were singing their beauti- ful songs. The ground squirrels ran from hole to hole and talked to their neighbors. The little cotton- tails who hopped about to get their breakfast would turn to listen, and look as if in fear. Everything seem- ed happy and beautiful, because it was Spring. ELIZABETH SAFFORD. THE SPY. Jack Jones was intending to go out to the aeroplane factory in a few moments and was fixing up a light lunch to take alone with him. He soon finished, and seizing his hat and coat was off on the run. When Jack got almost to the factory, he was halted by a guard whom Jack knew very well, and was soon ushered into the foreman ' s office. Jack asked for a job but the fore- man said, I am very sorry, Jack, but at present I haven ' t a single thing you could do. Every- shop is crowded. I will let you know when I find a good job for you. Would you like to see a trial flight? There is one of the best aviators going up soon. Thank you, said Jack. As he got there one of the work- men was working and Jack saw that he had filed the supporting wires almost through. Stop that, said Jack jumping at the man. The man drew 7 a pistol and shot at Jack. The guard was attracted by the shot and soon cap- tured the workman. The latter was taken to court and it was found that he was a German spy. He was sentenced to serve fifty years in prison. Jack was given a reward for sav- ing the life of the aviator who would have fallen to his death if Jack had not discovered the spy. HUGH FALCONER. Potatoes we ' ll eat To save the wheat. If you love the U. S. A. Buy War Savings Stamps today. Save lead, save tin, Save the wheat that ' s in the bin.

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14 THE TARGET who were to leave on the following day. As Jack, the leader was his own property, he asked permission of the officer in command to take his pet along. This was granted. After weeks of training Pat ' s com- pany was order to take its position beside the veterans of France. Bark- ing joyfully at his master ' s heels came Jack, the mascot of the com- pany. Within a few months every man was eager to take Jack over the top with him, because he was a great help to his trooper friend. With his keen scent he was far more successful in routing a con- cealed Hun than the soldiers them- selves. Once, when Pat was trying to re- turn to his company from which he had been separated, he was stop- ped by two Germans. He called to Jack who was close by to get one, while he made a lunge at the other. Pat easily killed his man, but poor Jack, flying at the throat of the other, was pierced by the cold steel of the Prussian ' s trench knife. Pat ' s Irish blood boiled at the sight of his plucky little pet, and with one powerful blow with the butt of his pistol he killed the Hun. Pat car- ried his dead little pal back to camp where he was buried with all the honors of a soldier killed in action. NORTH YOUNKINS. THE SONG OF THE POTATOES Plant us, Grow us, Sow us, Please ! We are good to eat! And we ' re really truly good As a substitute for wheat! CLARA HOFF. THE SEA. The sea, the sea, the wild, wild sea, Thou art free, thou art ever free! So far beneath that cold, dark sky, Against steep cliffs, thy waves dash high. Down underneath those dark green waves, Down underneath those rocky caves Stretch far and wide, thy endless wastes, Where seaweeds grow, all interlaced. The sea, the sea, the wild, wild sea, Thou art free, thou art ever free! ROBERTA HAYNES. AN ORIENTAL SURPRISE. The air was hot and heavy, a dark cloud was settling around Kioto, and the lights of the uchi through the fog gleamed like fire-flies. The heat drove me into the street and I called for a ricksha, thinking to cool myself with a short ride. Where to? inquired my coolie. Anywhere! Anywhere! from this terrible heat! I answered impatient- ly. And so he set out at a quick pace, and soon we were plunged into darkness. I began to be alarmed for I had not been in Kioto long, and was not acquainted with its many winding streets. Within a few moments, however, I saw the lights of Hongawnji Temple ahead and felt relieved, as I knew he would stop there to rest in the gardens. But no, he did not stop, and again we were in darkness. Being now thoroughly frightened I call for him to stop. But to my utter dismay he merely quickened his pace. Now all was silent except the patter, patter of his soft kutsu.

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if. THE TARGET A Little Child Shall Lead Them Buy a tag, sir, and help the Junior Red Cross, questioned Muriel, a bright-eyed girl, of a laboring man, just about to board the train for the city. Only got a nickel, or I ' d buy one, sure, said the man. But upon being informed by Muriel, that he might borrow it, he cheerfully did so, and Muriel, with the merry jing- ling of the money in her pocket went joyfully over the road to meet the next person. Later on in the day a prosperous looking gentleman was seen waiting for the 9:30 train. Everything about him seemed to suggest wealth, from the top of his new panama, to the tips of his highly polished shoes. Muriel went smilingly across to him, confident he would purchase several tags. What, more of these bother- some things? What with Liberty Bonds, the Y. M. C. A. and the Red Cross, life ' s made a perfect misery. No, certainly not, I have better use for my money. With that the portly old gentleman savage- ly thrust a cigar into his mouth, and turned his back on the astonish- ed girl. Wha ' d yer call them things? said a voice. Muriel turned, and saw a ragged newsboy regarding the tags curiously. It did not occur to her, that the little chap might buy one, but she ex- plained all about the coming pageant. Sammy put his hand thoughtfully in his pocket, and pulled out some very grimy pennies. He looked wist- fully at them for a while, then said, I was agoin ' t ' git Rosie, that ' s my sister, yer know, he explained confidentially, a doll. She ' s just crazy about ' em, but I guess it ' s my duty, and here he drew himself up proudly, to help my country now, so here, and he held out to Muriel ten hard-earned pennies. The wealthy old gentleman had been an interested onlooker, of this little scene, and the patriotism of the little lad, had made him think, how meager was his share in the great Avar. How many tickets have you left? he said. Just seventeen, sir. Well, I ' ll buy them all, and he gave Muriel fiv e dollars, telling her not to mind about the change. It was nearly train time, so giving the tags to Sammy, he said, Take all your little friends to the pageant, and God bless you, my boy, for you have taught one old slacker, the true meaning of the word patrio- tism. URSULA HOWARD. A MAY-HAPPEN TALE. Cecilio yawned. It was very pleas- ant to sit in the sun outside the colonel ' s tent overlooking the slug- gish Rio Grande. Since he had been rescued by the colonel from starva- tion and made the mascot of the American ' s regiment he had been very happy. He had had nothing to do but loaf, and for the fourteen years of his life his watchword had always been to-morrow. Just at present the. regiment was wrought up by the news of a great war. Cecilio was mildly amused. Why should they bother over that? It was clear across the ocean. To him loyalty and patriotism meant noth- ing. In his lazy Mexican life he thought, as did most of his country-