Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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20 The Target BENNY AND JENNY. Benny and Jenny went one day Out in the fields of clover; A hop and a skip, a jump and a trip, Over and over and over. Happily they went out to play, Into the meadows and far away, Over the hilltops and down in the lanes; But oh, alas! it began to rain. It hailed and it snowed; They began to roam, For the poor little dears Could not find their way home. i They hunted and hunted, round and round, For the little trail that led to town; And when they found it, oh what joy For the cold and rain-drenched girl and boy! MARIE McGUIRE. A SUNRISE. The stars were still shining when I awoke, but a faint streak of grey in the east warned me that dawn was near. Slowly the hills changed from black into deep purple and the stars went out one by one. Soon the few tiny clouds which hung in the sky, turned to a rosy pink. Gradually the islands in the baj became more and more distinct; it seemed as though a mist were being slowly lifted, disclosing all of the familiar objects which the darkness of night had enveloped. As the sky faded, the hills changed from rich purple into lavender, then into brown and finally into a faint green. Sud- denly over the crest of the hills the sun peeped — and the day was begun. BARBARA HAINES. YEAST. Once upon a time (for that is the way all good stories begin) there lived a tiny, tiny plant; in fact, mil- lions of tiny, tiny plants. Where did they live? Why, they lived almost everywhere. They were float- ing about in the air, living on grain, on plants and all sorts of queer places. Why couldn ' t you see them? My - dear, they were so very, very tiny you couldn ' t see them exce pt through a queer kind of thing called a microscope. Now, don ' t you dare think this is a fairy tale, because these little plants are all about you right now. Do you know that the delicious bread mother makes wouldn ' t be good at all if it wasn ' t for the little yeast plants? Just let me tell you about it. Yeast grows just like any plant, but it must have a nice warm, sweet, moist soil with protein and mineral matter before it can grow. But what do you think? Yeast doesn ' t like dirt; its soil is dough. The sugar that mother puts in makes it sweet, the milk or water makes it moist, the flour furnishes starch and pro- tein, and the. salt— mineral matter. The dough is then put in a warm place for it to grow. It does grow, too. The yeast turns the starch into sugar and forms a gas. Then this gas tries its very best to escape, thus raising the dough. Mother than takes it, kneads it, and cuts it into loaves. The loaves are allowed to rise again. Then they are slipped into the oven and baked until they become the nice brown loaves you eat for dinner. Now, what do you think of your little helper, yeast? ELEANOR EVANS.

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The Target 19 window. Mary jumped from her bed as the Indian jumped through the window, and ran for the door! An- other Indian was just outside! Mary desperately dodged by him and flew down the stairway and outside into the garden. At every turn an In- dian seemed to spring out at her. On through the garden she ran, slipping through an Indian ' s arms. At last she reached the elm-bor- dered street. The moon shone spook- ily down. Mary had nearly reached a soldier walking along when an Indian sprang out from behind a tree, and before she could break away he gave a terrible cry and stabbed her in the back! What are you screaming for? asked her mother, bending over her. An Indian stabbed me! sobbed Mary, and I can still feel it! See! she said, turning over. What do you think was sticking into her? A pin! Next morning Mary promised her mother that she would never eat any- thing that her mother told her not to. She also promised to make her bed better and not to leave pins in it. HELEN HAINES. A GHOST STORY. Hezekiah Blake stretched his long legs before the stove and spat into the box of sawdust in the corner. A crowd of about ten were gathered around the tiny heater discussing various topics of the day. The corner store was deserted ex- cept for the hangers-on and Joshua Haymaker, the old storekeeper. Some of the men were sitting on cracker barrels, others lounged on the coun- ter, but the majority tilted back their chairs and placed their enormous feet upon the stove. Indeed, so crowded was that useful bit of iron that occasionally a gruff voice would say: Hey, there, Josh, give me a chance at that stove. Hezekiah had a long beard, no mustache, a huge Roman nose, small twinkling eyes, a scanty fringe of hair around his shining bald pate, and a long neck that resembled that of a stork. His thumbs were thrust into the armholes of his vest, his shirt boasted no collar, and his dirty over- alls were patched carelessly in many places. But despite his appearance, he was a jolly don ' t-care fellow, who took the world as it came. Say, boys, I never believed in ghosts till last night. As I was going home from the store who should I meet but grandfather ' s ghost. It ' s funny a man is not safe in this country. Well, I was going home as I said, and I had just passed the gooseberry bushes on Deacon Jones ' farm, when up popped a tall white ghost, with such beaming eyes, why my bones just naturally shook. I whispered, ' Who are you? ' ' I ' m your grandfather and I ' ve come to tell you that you are going to die the day you take your last breath. ' With a hollow groan that awful thing disappeared. Why, boys, I ' ve been quaking ever since. Hezekiah looked around the small store. A deep silence reigned, broken only by the ticking of the clock and the crackling of the fire. Why, last night was Halloween, said Joshua. ALICE ROSENBERRY. Mildred Bell: ' Nos ' should be ' nostra ' — I forgot my ' tra. ' Miss Smith: Very well, I shall join your ' tra ' to your ' nos. '

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The Target 21 Mr. Beardsley: They put the Ara- bic dates on buildings and places of learning such as hospitals. Marian McCord translating Span- ish: He jumped through the wall. Miss Smith: I wonder where Ethel Allen is. Frances Humphreys: She ' s gone to Napa. Miss Smith: I hope she won ' t stay there long. Frances Humphreys (very serious- ly): Oh, no! She ' s just gone to visit a friend! Bonnie George: Then they buried the fragrance of his body. (Frag- ments.) Jessie Warwick to Irma St. Clair: Oh, Irma, you dropped your chorus seat on the stairs. (Meaning ticket.) George Minifee: Why is a squire like an evening? Jackson Bliss: I don ' t know. George Minifee: Because he isn ' t a knight. fluence of the Medieval church: You couldn ' t die unless you paid the church a certain amount of money. George Trabert in H9 History: Famines were common except where food was plentiful. Betty Richardson translating Latin: Rather than have their arms tossed about they drew them from their shields. Miss Vaissade: What did Mr. Seguin ' s goat do? Elizabeth Denbigh: She laughed up her sleeve. Gordon Johnson: Is the pupil absent that sits in this seat? John Dolan: I don ' t know, but I ' m supposed to sit there. Gardiner Johnson (seeing a horse and buggy with a colt running along- side of it) : Oh, look at that buggy ' s spare tire! Alexander Koughan, explaining in- Miss Farwell in L9 Latin: He did not see the moon and stars for he fell into the mud. Calvert Moore: He must have seen stars.