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Page 19 text:
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THE TARGET 17 men, only of the source of his next meal. Suddenly the telegraph instruments inside the tent began to click. He heard the colonel go over to the table. A moment later he came out of the tent, holding a slip of paper in his hand, and with such an ex- pression of joy on his usually- grave face that Cecilio glanced up in amazement. Cecilio, exclaimed the colonel, tomorrow we leave for the coast, and from there for Europe. Oh, senor, cried Cecilio, what to me will happen? I too must go. I am sorry, replied the colonel, but we can take you no farther than the coast. There we will leave you in a home. When I come back, if I ever do, I will take you north with me. Cecilio made no comment. He was stunned. The colonel went ofli to tell the good news to the boys. Cecilio heard them laughing and shouting. Suddenly he realized how much he would miss his friends, and with that realization came the first resolution of his life. He would go to the mythical place called Eu- rope with his regiment. Three weeks later the colonel ' s cabin on the transport was invaded by an irate sailor dragging with him a not-at-all abashed Mexican boy. The colonel started in amazement. Why Cecilio, he cried, how on earth did you get here? Cecilio grinned. I ran away from the home, he answered. I want to go to Europe. It not hard to get aboard. I should think you would be half starved, the colonel exclaimed, but, surveying the boy ' s rotund figure, you don ' t look it. No, senor, replied Cecilio with a reminiscent smile, I hide in the — what you call him — galley. Two summers later the bench out- side the colonel ' s tent overlooking the Rio Grande was again occupied, this time by the colonel himself. He and the remainder of, his men, a mere handful, were recovering from gas and shell-shock at their old camping-ground. The colonel glanc- ed up to see the tall, slender form of a boy in khaki approaching. The colonel watched him, thinking what a change the sight of the heroism of the battlefield had wrought in him. Colonel, said the boy, in per- fect English, I want to resign as mascot. Why, Cecilio, exclaimed the col- onel with a smile, are you going to seek your fortune? No, colonel, answered the boy, gravely, I go to teach my people the meaning of this, and suddenly on the wind, out-floated that toward which he pointed, the red, white and blue of Old Glory. PHYLLIS HARROUN. AWAKE, AMERICA! Awake! America, Awake! Stamp out these lawless, shameless foes, Who seek to desecrate and take, Away our hard-begotten homes. Their loathsome thoughts exter- minate, And flourish in their stead the right Instead of savage, fiendish hate, Forever man ' s worst bane and blight. Americans, the sword unsheath, Democracy must thrive and live; That we may freedom ' s sweet air breathe, Ten million men their lives would give. PAUL ALBERT.
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Page 18 text:
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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-
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Page 20 text:
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i8 THE TARGET Willard Baseball Team WILLARD ATHLETICS. Great events occur daily — Berkeley went over the top, the Kaiser started his great offensive, and sports galloped unceremoniously back to Willard. Someone, who has taken care to hide his name and headpiece from the violence of those who persist in taking the part of Rip Van Winkle in the heart-racking drama of Ever- lasting Sleep, decided that it was time to come to earth, and forgetting for the time the, fair maidens of the northern section of the terrace, deep plots were laid to start things. The bomb exploded with the elec- tion of Bob Kanzee as Commission- er of Athletics, and after it, events followed rapidly. Hawthorne Grady whose voice might easily be heard from here to New York was chosen yell leader, and more than once he cracked his voice and our feelings with his mighty screeches — but alas! ' tis all for naught. Edison and Gar- field have refused to try out for track, which means no track meet. Ah, but gaze fondly upon the pictures of the noble braves, who dared the trials and troubles oi joining a baseball team. From 1 c f ' . to right in the top row they arc Sherman Bishop, right field; Ray White, first base; Adolphus Cheek, catcher; Delmont Hennion, utility man. In the center row they are Jonny Newson, pitcher; Art Hiscox, whose eyes watered during the fatal moment of camera thrills, shortstop; Lawrence Weisel, pitcher; Edward McEnearny, left field; Dick
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