Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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Winter Tlnoughts The leaves are falling from the trees, Gone are the busy, humming bees, The north winds whistle as they blow, The ero ps are in, the bon ji res glow. The pumpkins on the cold earth lie As gaily child ren seam per by. The turkeys strut and corn. stalks blow As if expecting -winter snow. Then down it falls with flaky pride On snow men standing side by side As child ren shout and play with glee Beneath a leajless, barren tree. Bill Gadd is. Christmas lluclk I ITTLE BILLY SIGHED. Two more days until Christmas, and he only had eighty-nine cents. He needed eleven cents more and then he could buy that beautiful woolen shawl for mother that was in Mr. Cleman's store. He had saved the money up, penny by penny, doing errands for kind neighbors. Just recently a new grocery store had opened, and they delivered their goods, so now Billy had lost that job of bringing them to the people. He shivered and put another stick of wood on the fire. A fire felt good these days. Snow lay like a huge, white blanket for miles around, and a sharp wind bit people's noses and fingers. When the wood had burned, and there was no more left, he crawled sleepily into bed. I wonder how I'11 get that eleven cents, he murmured and then fell fast asleep. As Billy sleeps, I will tell you a little about him and his mother. His father is dead, and he and his widowed mother live alone. Billy's mother sews for the neighbors, and sometimes Billy gets a job of taking the place of a newsboy who is sick. The next day Billy heard a knock on the door. He opened it, and he saw Tom, the chimney sweep, who told him that he could take the place of Andy who was sick. Andy sold newspapers on the street corners. Billy was overjoyed. Now he could get that shawl for mother with the money he earned. Billy had been on the corner for an hour. It was not a very busy place, and he had sold none. Oh look at mother's pet selling papers! jeered a number of boys coming up the street. Billy paid no attention to them, which only stirred them on. They began hitting him, and the papers were thrown all over the street and torn. The snow made them wet, and they

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llnto the Piano Box ONE FINE MORNING, long ago, when my mother was a girl, going to school she spied a fine, large goat. The goat had lovely horns, too lovely for comfort, or so my mother thought. With a wild scream, she dropped her books and ran as fast as her small legs could carry her. The goat by this time decided something was up so he thought he would join in the fun. He started chasing mother, who was fast giving out. Aha! a large piano box came into sight, very large. Mother's fright must have given her superhuman strength for she scrambled right up into it and sat very still. The goat, following close behind, seeing he was outwitted, decided to rest awhile. Right there was poor mother crouched in the huge piano box. Finally the goat got tired of waiting, so he strolled off. Mother heard him go away, waited a minute, and then peeked out. The coast was clear, so she tried to get out. The box seemed bigger than ever now for, try as she would, she couldn't get over the top of it. She tried for what seemed to her hours. Then with a sigh she settled back. Suddenly she heard someone. She began yelling at the top of her voice. The man heard and came running over. He helped her out-she was crying now--and asked where she lived. She got home safely and decided that piano boxes were too big for her. Car- tons were more her size. Paula Bruen. Snnset on the Waves THEY were very beautiful as they crashed against the rocks and beach. This is what I was thinking, as I sat on the beach on that bright after- noon. First there would be a long swell getting higher and higher, then a beautiful, clear, green waterfall, then a mad tumbling of pure white spray and foam. As I looked down the beach, I imagined I saw a wonderful, green, silk dress with beautiful, shirred, white-lace scallops and rulfles. These in reality were the clear, green waves and lovely, white, foamy breakers. As I looked up in the other direction, a different sight met my eyes. A great, jagged rock pierced the waves. A smaller rock, but just as iagged, rose up nearer the shore, which at that point was a granite wall. The last, dying rays of red and golden sunlight danced on the water, changing it to a beautiful gleam of color. Long, light green rays of sunlight went down into the darker water, and, as I looked, a grand, green swell rose swiftly and became a clear, light green waterfall as it curled over. With a great crash, it met with the rock. White and silver foam and spray showered up and fell in wonderful rainbow and red-gold colors as the sparkling spray caught the last rays of the sinking sun and returned to its mother ocean. Violet N uttirzg. llfiuenaing The su 11 is fading in the west, The breezes now are f7l1'l7i71g cool, Our feaibered i friends have gone fo rest, And stars are shining in the pool. Frederick Arclarzmbault.

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were now useless. A policeman chased them away. All Billy could do now was to go and tell the newspaper man. He could hardly keep back the tears. All his hopes were shattered. What was that lying in the gutter? It looked like a book of keys. Yes, it was, and there was the name, A. J. Reynolds, and the address was 1 156 Madison Drive. He knew where that was. In a few minutes he was before the beautiful mansion on Madison Drive. He felt very small in his rags, but summoning up all his courage he knocked twice. The butler who opened the door was about to shut it again when he saw Billy, but Billy said, Please, sir, does Mr. Reynolds live here? I found some keys with his name on them. The butleris expression changed at once. He ushered Billy in, and soon he was before the kindly Mr. Reynolds. Billy told him all his troubles. Mr. Reynolds' listened attentively. Soon Billy was on his way home, a new ten-dollar bill tightly clutched in his hand, but first he stopped at the store and proudly bought the beautiful shawl. Gladys H irscb. Unknouiun Revenge JOHN LASALLE was sentenced to death! Phillip LaSalle was sentenced to prison! They were both spies for the French, caught in a German camp. Who had given the evidence? This is what Phillip LaSalle wanted to know. Their trial was over, and they were leaving the courtroom when he found out. Hulda Englemann, a woman! She was in the rear of the court room now. He looked. Could it be possible that this mere wisp of a girl was the cause of all their troubles? He would go to prisong his brother would die. All the hatred that was in him came to the surface, and then, as though possessed, he yelled across the courtroom, I'1l kill you if it's the last thing I do!', That was many years ago. The present scene is quite different. Hulda Englemann jogged along a dirt road in a taxi that had seen better days. On one side was a cliff and below that the roaring, wild, dashing waves of the Pacific. Large rocks spiralled out of the water. The fog hung thick all around. Hulda was unable to distinguish any small objects. They had just passed an old farmhouse that was the color of mud. At one of the Windows a little girl with a dirty face and tangled hair pressed her nose against the pane. Hulda waved to her but got only a giggle in response. She asked the driver who lived there. It was the Wfidow Teller with seven children, one of whom was adopted. Hulda decided to get one of the children to help her at her house, which had once been her father's permanent residence. Hulda had just found out that Phillip LaSalle had escaped from prison and was out of his mind. He was after her with the insane idea of killing her. She had fled in terror to her father's house, hoping he would not find her there. When she knocked on the door of the farmhouse, she heard a bustle of feet inside. An elderly woman with a weatherbeaten face stood at the door. Wal, what diya want?