Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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The Deacon Dozes S EACON HOLTON sat in a comfortable position in an old walnut rocker with his feet propped up on the window-sill. A plate of his wife’s doughnuts was beside him, but nevertheless he looked as if he had just consumed a tablespoon of vinegar instead of a delicious doughnut. An onlooker would not have understood his disgust unless he had peered over the Deacon’s shoulder and read the column in the weekly paper that he was industriously scanning. He was uttering, I regret to say, profane remarks at intervals. The column on which his apparently frost-bitten countenance was centered was headed: “Agitation over Slave Question Increases! Slaves Helped by Many.” “Bosh! Pshaw! Why can’t they let us al one, and let our rights alone too?” growled the Deacon. “I swear by my great aunt’s Angora goat that I wish I were back in Georgia instead of in this cursed little Yankee town.” His eyes roved over the page. Suddenly he sat upright with such a sudden motion that the pot of geraniums on the sill hopped over about an inch and the doughnut dish slid along the arm of the chair until it reached a perilous proximity to the edge of it. What he had seen was this : “Twenty-five dollars reward offered for the capture and return of two slaves. One tall and thin and very dark, the other medium and quite light. When last seen, dressed in red and yellow calico dresses, re- spectively. For further information write 281 St. “Hum!” said Deacon Holton. “Hum ” The Deacon dozed. He was aroused by the steady knocking of the iron spoon, kept for such purposes on the back door. Again nearly precipitating the doughnuts to the floor, he threw open the back door, and there — . Were his senses deceiving him? His perfectly good eyes that he had always relied upon — were they deserting him? Two negroes stood cowering and trembling before him. One was of a dark chocolate complexion and wore a calico wrapper — very torn, patched, and dirty. The other was of a cafe-au-lait shade and wore a yellow wrapper in a similar condition. “Please, Massa,” begged the red-wrappered one, “please cud you- all take care o’ us’n? We was telled of you by de men over’n de nex’ town, un’ we doan’ need nuthin’ but jes’ a place ter sleep an’ victuals. We all gwine ter go ter dat place — Canady where we won’ haf ter work no mo’. Please, Massa. Hide us.”

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me to her, quick. Take me to her,” he cried. “Oh, boy, do you not remember me?” When they reached a house in a quiet side street, Mr. Wellington and Allen rushed up the sairs to Mrs. Stewart. She turned very white when she first saw him. “Gordon,” she gasped and stretched out her arms. After the story had been told of his rescue from the briny deep, he told them his memory had left him, because of the strain on his mind. Then when he was speaking to Allen, it had all come back, thanks to the “Yellow Roadster.” VIRGINIA FIELD. -o- The Great Game Jfts a T WAS the day of the big game. The Arc Zoo was playing the Dover Zoo for the baseball championship of Ammaldom. For the Arcs, “Teddy” Bear was pitching, and for the Dovers, “Lion” King. The Arcs were up to bat first. The crowd in the stands was screeching, yowling, hissing, growling or making noises in any way that suited their fancy. Polly Parrot, the umpire, called out, “Play Ball!” and the game was on. The first few innings passed uneventfully, it being a pitcher’s battle. At the beginning of the fifth inning, the score was tied and the Arcs were up to bat. “Lion” King delivered one over the plate with terrific speed. “Billie” Greyhound met it with a resounding crack. It traveled over the left fielder’s head and “Billie” flashed around the bases for a home run. The crowd went wild. Then “Lion” King settled down to work and neither side scored. As the last of the ninth came, and the score was 1 to 0 against them, things looked black for the Dovers. “Daddy” Spider for the Dovers came to bat and fanned. Then “Rattler” Snake came to bat and knocked a liner to center field and wriggled to third base. Then “Bud” Kangaroo came to bat. Every eye was fastened on him and there was breathless suspense. “Teddy” Bear wound up and threw. “Bud” hit it with all his might. The ball shot over the short-stop’s head and rolled out into the field. In four mighty leaps “Bud” was home. He had done the seemingly impossible and made each base in one jump to win the game for the Dovers. ROBERT SHIREY.

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As if raised by spirits the newspaper seemed to appear before his astonished eyes and he remembered the words: “Twenty-five dollars reward ” “Come right in,” he whispered in a shaky voice. “I’ll hide you in the barn and bring out something to eat.” So he deposited his willing charges in the barn and brought them victuals and went inside to write a letter. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx “Yes, yes, gentlemen, right this way. Pretty neat, wasn’t it? Step quietly, gentlemen.” Deacon Holton addressed the two officers of the law with his most ingratiating smile, a smile he used only when pecuniary matters were afoot. Sliding back the bolt on the barn door he peered into the gloom and gave a low call. No answer. He stepped cautiously in and repeated the performance. No answer. “Where the d ?” he murmured. There was something white on the hay. Deacon Holton stooped an d picked it up. There was writing on it. In fact, it was a letter: “Many thanks for your kind hospitality. Your wife surely is too good a cook for you. If you are interested in our welfare, you may call at 28 Maple St. any time after four o’clock. “Your devoted ‘slaves,’ “Marietta Bement, “Jane Kent.” “How will I ever get clean?” sighed a girl, valiantly rubbing her face with a very black handkerchief. “Oh well, it was worth it. Didn’t you laugh though, when you saw his face through that knot in the wall when he read that note? The mean old skinflint.” HELEN EVELETH. o THE OCEAN How would you like to sail the ocean, And feel it sway with a wave-like motion; Or would you rather walk its shore And see it dash and hear it roar? If you ask me I would say That I would walk its shores all day. How glad I feel and very free. As I follow the line of the foaming sea.