Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

Text from Pages 1 - 68 of the 1933 volume:

the TAiu;ir JUNE, NINETEEN THIRTY- TH RE WILLARD JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL BERKELEY, CALIFORNIA The Vcii«je;nicc of the Furies jpHE rambling, old farmhouse of Jonathon Bardwell was comfortably protected from the heat of the midsummer sun. A great weeping willow spread its sheltering branches over the roof, petunias and zinnias bloomed in the garden, and hopvines clambered up the poles of the piazza. It was Sunday, and young Johanna Bardwell sat rocking on the porch. Though it was her only day of leisure, she was unhappy. How could she be happy when her father was going to sell the wood-lot, her wood-lot? True the times were hard and money scarce, but — Johanna could restrain herself no longer. She ran along the road and at the gate met Andrew O ' Neil, the friendly constable. At his question as to where she was going in such headlong flight she answered hastily, I don ' t know, and I don ' t care! Before she knew what she was doing, she had told him all her troubles. There, there, he said comfortingly, I know just how you feel. Would you tolerate my company for a last, little walk in the woods? She consented, and they walked along together over the crackling leaves of madrone and tanbark oak and rested by the side of a lively brook. It was cool and restful, and no irritating sounds arrested their ears. Sud- denly, as if out of nowhere, a harsh laugh broke the serenity of the woods. Andrew put his finger over her lips and listened. We certainly fooled old Bardwell, didn ' t we? continued the voice. The price we offered isn ' t half the value of the property, but he ' s hard pressed. After all, spoke another voice, we aren ' t paying money for it, and we ' ll sell it for a high price to the lumber company. The voices grew fainter and fainter and at last were gone. Andrew rose and spoke excitedly to Johanna. We ' ve got to work fast, he said. That ' s the pair who are buying these woods, and they are dishonest or I ' m very wrong in judging. You bring your father and a few men to help me. I ' ll follow the rogues and leave a trail of papers. A crackle of leaves and he was gone. Johanna stood a moment be- wildered and then resolutely set out for home. Half an hour later he re- turned with ten men, armed with rifles. Johanna did not join the pursuit but awaited their arrival in the woods. After about an hour of waiting a group of very hot and disappointed men emerged from the tangle of thickets. The little divils! expostulted Andrew, they wouldn ' t have gotten away only they had one of these high-powered cars and made straight for it when they saw us. Yes, and they say there is justice, he muttered to himself. They were as pretty a pair of counterfeiters as I ' ve ever seen! Johanna consoled the men with the thought that her father had lost neither money nor woodland. The next day Johanna walked to the near-by town of Brekenfeld to get the mail. She unlocked her postoflice box and unfolded the daily paper only to be confronted by heavy black headlines reading, Daring Coun- terfeiters Killed in Accident! Just then a very excited Andrew rushed up to her and recounted the whole story, how the very counterfeiters who had tried to rob her father had run into a tree while escaping and been instantly killed. Johanna was too astounded to speak. All the hurry and bustle of Brekenfeld ' s one street faded from her view. She heeded not the shrill cries of the children or the casual greeting of a passing friend. It was with difficulty that Johanna brought herself back to the vivid world of reality. At last she turned her gaze on the round-faced and affable con- stable. Andrew, she said slowly but firmly, it certainly does not pay to do wrong. In the terms of olden Greece ' the venegance of the Furies has fallen! ' Jean Barker. llo«| Drops In JpHERE was a light scratching at the door. Old Mr. Roberts put down his book and listened. He seemed annoyed. Again the scratching. Muttering, he went to the door and opened it. Just as I thought, he said disgustedly. There was a bedraggled, muddy, little dog who sat up at once, barking joyously. His ridiculous, short tail wagged against the floor. Off with you! yelled Roberts. He put out his foot to kick him back. The animal paid no attention but kept on begging and wagging his tail. Roberts just couldn ' t kick him. He slammed the door shut. The darn thing can stay there all night as far as I ' m concerned. He put out the light and went upstairs to bed. It started to rain. It poured! If I took in every stray dog that came on my porch — ! He got in bed and turned out the light. It poured harder. If he hadn ' t waved that ridiculous tail — besides he ' s probably drenched. He ' d drag in no end of mud. Furthermore I destest small dogs. He turned over, but he couldn ' t sleep. At that he wouldn ' t stay small. Maybe he ' s not so wet. It did seem sort of friendly to hear the little snore underneath his bed. He certainly was cute lapping up that warm milk in the kitchen. Roberts slept. Mary Carey. The ' Brook 1 am the brook, and I love to roam. I wander away from my wooded home. I see the elves, the fairies, the bees. I see all that the bluebird sees. By broad, green fields and purple hills, Down past the towns with their humming mills, I sing a song of bubbling glee, I sing as I ripple down toward the sea. Lelia Cayne. Aimili pOMMY ' s daddy was in the Navy and for the past two years Tommy ' s daddy and mommy had lived in China. In fact Tommy had been born in China. Ever since Tommy was a tiny baby in arms, Amah had been with him. Amah meant all that was tender and loving and gentle to Tommy, and in his baby way he loved Amah. He would pat her dark, oval face and smooth her sleek, black hair and plant tiny kisses on her lovely, red lips. But Tommy loved his mommy too. His mommy was tall and slender and blonde and very beautiful. She was always dressed in light, dainty clothes, being very careful about her appearance. At night when Tommy was ready to be tucked in bed, she would come in her lovely evening dress to kiss him good-night, but he must be very careful not to ruffle her perfectly set hair and not to disturb her carefully rouged lips. Tommy thought she was like a lovely fairy, and he longed to throw his dimpled arms around her neck and love her, oh so tight! But Tommy always did as he was told, so he would barely touch her lips, and he didn ' t even dare to put his arms around her neck for fear of mussing her lovely hair. But after mother had gone to her party with his handsome daddy, Amah would come into Tommy ' s nursery. She would tiptoe softly up to his little bed and peek down at him to see if he was asleep. If he wasn ' t, he would hold out his baby arms to her, and she would pick him up. She would carry him over to the little, low, rocking chair by the window, and rock him in her arms. When they looked out of the window, they could see the lights of Hong Kong and the lights of the little Chinese junks on the bay. Up above, the stars twinkled brightly, and the moon sent down shimmering reflections on the rippling water of the bay. Amah would sing little lullabies to Tommy that had been sung to her and her illustrious ancestors when they were Tommy ' s age, and, after a while, Tommy would slip away to dreamland, soothed by the soft lights and Amah ' s singing. But after Tommy had long been asleep, Amah would still sit by the window with him in her arms all the time thinking of the time when Tommy would leave the shelter of her arms. In the morning No. i boy brought up Tommy ' s morning chowchow. Tommy was the pet of all the hotel attendants. Amah had taught him to say, Thank you, and, Please, in Chinese. No. i always handed Tommy ' s milk and eggs and other chow to him one by one just to hear him say, Thank you. When Amah took Tommy out to the park, she carried him on her back in true Chinese fashion. Tommy loved this so much. Amah always carried a bit of bread for Tommy to throw to the swans, and, after Tommy had fed the swans, Amah and Tommy would romp and play till they were both tired and it was time to go home. When Tommy got home, he was given his midday chow and put into his little bed for his nap. When he woke up, he would always find Amah there ready to bathe him and dress him. If his mother was having friends to tea, Tommy would sit on the little stool at his mother ' s feet and listen to the ladies exclaim over him. If he were very good and quiet, maybe mommy would hold him on her lap for awhile and give him tiny nibbles of the tea cakes she served to her guests. After awhile Tommy would slip back to Amah and let her tell him little stories so dear to the hearts of all children the whole world over. But after a time the thing that Amah feared came to pass. Daddy received some terrible things called ORDERS and they were making him leave China and go to some other place. This made dear Amah cry, and that was enough for Tommy. He couldn ' t seem to understand it all, but he knew enough to know that Amah wasn ' t going too. Mommy would have liked to have taken her, but she would have to pay a lot of money to get her back to the States. So one day Tommy sailed far away from China on a big ship, and Amah went back to her mother ' s home, clutching to her breast the one thing left of Tommy ' s, a little shoe. And that night there were two aching hearts in the big world. One belonged to a little boy on a big boat in the middle of the ocean, but time would heal his sorrow. The other belonged to Amah away in China, and her sorrow would never heal. Cameron Cobb. •lust Jimmy -2-2-z-z-om, went a big trimotor airplane as eight-year-old Jimmie Robins sat on the side gate of the Leonard Airport watching his brother take off. Jimmie ' s mother owned the boarding house for the air- port employees across the road. The whole family was crazy about air- planes. Jimmie had asked his brother time and again to let him go on an airplane trip with him, but he had refused every time. The next morning, Ted, Jimmie ' s brother, made ready to go on a trip to Cleveland in his airplane. The baggage was put aboard and the motor was tuned up. Just as Ted was getting into the cockpit of his plane, Jimmie climbed on to the framework of the landing gears. There he held tight till the plane was most one hundred feet overhead. The crowd did not notice Jimmy until the plane was high in the sky. Th en some one yelled out, Look! there ' s Jimmie. Then the excitement began! The only one on the field who was a licensed pilot was Bob Dair- dale, the airport manager. He was immediately notified and started his plane at once for the rescue. Bob advancing upward caught up with Ted ' s plane with poor Jimmie still holding on to the landing gears. Signaling back and forth the two finally came to an understanding. Ted was to keep an even speed while Bob would dive under his plane to get Jimmie. Then he fastened his controlling rod. Carefully standing in the cockpit of his plane, he balanced himself in this dangerous position and just man- aged to reach the boy. Their plans worked until Bob was getting Jimmie back into the plane, when Bob felt his plane suddenly drop from under him. It was lucky that he had a parachute. Grabbing Jimmie, he pulled the string on the parachute, and it opened. Sailing down to earth, Jimmie waved good-bye to Ted, as his plane shot through the clouds to Cleveland. Arthur Gravatt. The Ken Supreme £ ff the rugged shores of Northern California in the windswept waves sailed a small schooner. The setting sun cast its glorious glow on the worn decks. A man well along in years but of a kind though rugged coun- tenance was at the wheel. He was alone and singing as the seaworthy craft staunchly charted its way towards more sunny lands. A look of anxiety gradually appeared in the seaman ' s face. A change in the wind and ominous clouds certainly suggested that both he and his craft were about to be put through a trying test. Slowly but surely the thunderstorm came upon them. The waves rose high, the wind slashed at the bow. Both captain and ship seemed to be putt ing forth their best efforts to stick to their course, but, as the darkness of night fell upon them, the well-placed markings were lost to sight. Here they were two, old friends alone in the world striving to survive. Softly the sailor said to the Sunny Lee, We will pull through. Haven ' t we been together for years, gone through all trials and hardships, and been victorious? Had he figured that they were both getting pretty old? The planks creaked and strained as the driving seas lashed her decks. The old man was not so steady at the wheel now. Too well he knew what it meant to hug too close to the rocky coast. Slowly they seemed to have changed their course. Neither the ship nor he seemed to be able to stay away from a sure fate. Finally the storm was victorious, and the crash on the rocks came. By some miracle the man was swept clear and carried on a huge comber to a nearby strip of shore, but his friend, the Sunny Lee, was dashed to bits. In the morning the old man with tears in his eyes visioned the drift of his wrecked ship. Well, old pal, he said sadly, I was the lucky one this time, but I guess I am too old now. It ' s a land lubber I must be after this. I could never sail the seas with any ship but the Sunny Lee so I know I have taken my last cruise. Janice Graff. Qolden Qliders These golden, gliding sunbeams come Sliding across my sill To creep beneath my eyelids and To ope them ' gainst my will. Apollo ' s messengers are they Who greet me at sunrise. Dear Sleepy-head, get up, they say Their trying, prying opes my eyes. ' Tis Nature ' s xvay. She never stops To rest or waste His time. Indeed, she works and slaves until She wins acclaim from Him Divine Natalie Becker. An Unusual Ki«|lit J eauty was a riding horse. Her coat was a shiny, mottled gray, but at the time of the story it was covered with dust and sweat. Her home had been on the Texas Plains where Jeanne and John Cowan took turns each day at horseback riding. Some dogs had chased the Cowan ' s pony and started her running miles away from home. She grazed and wandered into New Mexico. Wild horses from the mesa joined her here. The Cowans had looked for her everywhere but without success. An annual event each fall for this family was a trip to the Roswell, New Mexico, apple orchards. Jeanne and John rolled up in blankets and rode in the trailer when they tired of looking at stretches of plains, herds of cattle, and endless sand dunes, which were of little interest to them after hours of riding. On the second day of the trip, they saw Mount White looming in the distance and many, many orchards with the ground beneath covered with rosy, red apples. The camp had been made, and the children were put to bed. In the night Jeanne awoke with a start, sat upright and listened. Yes, it was Beauty ' s familiar call! Jeanne reached over and whispered, John, John wake up! Beauty is out there. John rubbed his eyes and answered sleepily, Leave me alone, I want ' a sleep. Jeanne realized that she must hurry, and that she didn ' t have time to wake up Sleepyhead . She jumped into her coveralls and quietly slipped under the tent into the night. The white moon, the bright stars, and the still night almost frightened Jeanne. Her shadow seemed so large and eerie, but she squared her shoul- ders and peered this way and that. There was a movement. She listened, and then she saw a whole drove of Western ponies with their heads in the air, nostrils dilated, and bodies tense. The unexpected campers had surprised these wild ponies. One movement and they were off, prancing, jumping, snorting, and galloping away. Jeanne started running too. She was soon out of breath. The horses were headed for the mountains. Mount White fairly sparkled in the moonlight. Her breath came fast. She hesitated. She must turn back. She waited for a moment, undecided, and then she resolved to get Beauty. She ran faster and faster, and then she saw that they had already gained their hideout. She was afraid, but she called, Beauty, Beauty come here. She looked about her for help and saw only the emptiness of the dark night behind her. In the loneliness of the m ountains she heard the stamping and neighing of horses. Again she called, Beauty, Beauty, here is sugar for you. The pony whinnied. To her surprise, something touched her elbow. It was Beauty! Jeanne threw her arms around Beauty ' s neck and wept from sheer exhaustion. She became aware after a little that she did not know her way back to camp. She laid her head against Beauty ' s shoulder because she was afraid of the strange horses, afraid of the lonely night, afraid of some lurking, unknown danger. Beauty lay down and Jeanne dropped on her knees beside the pony and soon was fast asleep. Fitfully she slumbered. The flitting shadows appeared every time she opened her eyes. All was black in this house. No, in this tent. No, where was she? Mother, Dad, John! Where are you? Can ' t you hear me? No answer. She was trembling. She looked around. She saw shiny things like shiny stars, like silver and gold, lots and lots of it! Treasure! Golden treasure! Beauty had led her to the golden treasure which her mother and dad had told her about. Where were they? She got on Beauty ' s back and started to find the apple orchards. Miles and miles they traveled. Beauty knew where green, apple leaves were to be found and soon they rode into camp. Jeanne told her night ' s adventure to her mother and father and open- mouthed Sleepyhead . Her parents did not hesitate to investigate Jeanne ' s story, and she became not only the finder of Beauty but also the discoverer of Hidden Treasure. Lois Jones. A True Hear Story h, George, do you think it will be safe? asked Mrs. Laine fear- W fully. Why, of course! replied her husband. I wouldn ' t think of leaving you here alone if it wasn ' t. George Laine was a well-to-do, young, busi- ness man, married and with two small children. He was building a sum- mer cabin in the foothills of the Sierras. All was finished now except the windows and doors. He was called away to the city on business before he had had time to finish his cabin. He was leaving his pretty, young wife, Marjorie Laine, and the children up at the cabin. As he drove away, Mar- jorie felt a queer feeling in her throat as if something was going to happen while he was gone. While they were eating that evening, they chattered away as usual, but Marjorie still had that queer feeling. Now everything was still, as it was probably about eleven o ' clock. The moonlight fell in silver patches upon the rough floor through the unfinished windows. Marjorie heard a faint cry and started. In a second she was at the children ' s beds. It was nothing, merely a little dream. She crawled back into bed but couldn ' t get back to sleep. She kept hearing noises that she didn ' t like or understand. She turned over. A half hour passed. She was just dozing off when a scratching noise completely awakened her in a second. She sat up and tried to believe her husband ' s last words about there being no danger. Then a huge, dark figure loomed in the doorway. Marjorie was too scared to move and was actually too petrified with fright to scream. All sorts of thoughts raced through her mind. From around the side of this terrifying, bulky shape came another much smaller. Marjorie then recognized a great brown bear and her cub. The cub started to waddle into the room, and the mother took a few, clumsy steps after it. Marjorie then found her voice and let out a couple of terrified yet lusty screams. The children were awake in a few seconds and joined in the chorus. The cub turned away yelping, and soon both bears disappeared. They did not appear again that night, and I dare say they were just as scared as Marjorie and her little family. Mary Fulmer. Summer Sunset From where I stood upon the hill Gazing out into the west, I saxv the sea aglow with flame While the sun sank to its rest. Each ivhitecapped wave was tinged with gold, The salt spray gleamed with light As behind the purple mountain peak The sun dropped out of sight. Oh, that I could but have painted That blaze of throbbing ire And on my palette bravely sketched The dying sunset ' s fire! Ynez Johnston. Spsirk INiifjK mill Keys e were all sitting around the big, brick fireplace. The log was burn- ing merrily while the wind howled outside and the rain fell in tor- rents. Uncle Bill, I said to my uncle who was whittling a whistle for my young brother, won ' t you please tell us a story? Well, he replied in his usual drawl, I have one that I don ' t think you ' ve ever heard. It ' s pretty interestin ' too. Oh, begin quickly, we all begged and pulled our chairs up to the fire. It was way back in 1920, he began, when I still owned and oper- ated my horse ranch up in Mendocino County. I lived about fourteen miles from Point Arena and Gualala on a place called Sail Rock Ranch because there was a rock right in front of it that looked just like a sail. It was about the middle of summer, and we had been havin ' a lot of fish-fries and picnics on the beach. We had a few dances down at Gualala too, and I reckon you can imagine what fun we had. Well, this is where my story begins. One Saturday night I picked up my gal, Sally, in my old flivver and took her down to the dance in celebration of Bill Carey ' s birthday. We got there in fine time and had a great evenin ' . At eleven o ' clock we started for home as the flivver couldn ' t go very fast. I left Sally at eleven-thirty and then hit out for the ranch. I was going along easily until I came to Schooner Gulch where old Mac McNamee lives. At the end of the gulch there was a beach, and to my surprise I saw some lanterns and a fire on it. ' Well, ' I said to myself, ' Mac must be in trouble with his lines. I guess I ' ll go down and see what the fuss is all about. ' I pulled on the brakes and strolled down kinda quietly. As I came on the beach, I didn ' t see anybody, and I was just about to shout when I felt the muzzle of a gun in my back, and a harsh voice said, ' What do you want, feller? ' I was startled, and, as five men closed in on me, I said in the gruffest voice I could assume, T thought old Mac was in trouble with his lines and I came down to lend a hand. ' ' Well, ' he replied, ' we don ' t want you around here. Now git! ' ' Wait a minute, Bud, ' one of the men called out. ' Why don ' t you make him lend a hand? ' ' Good idea. Come here, buddy. ' I turned around, and came back. The man called Bud said to me, ' See that boat out there? I looked quickly out into the ocean and there saw a fishing schooner riding at anchor in the little bay. Again he spoke. ' See that truck? ' I turned to the road Mac had made and saw the object of which he spoke. ' Well, you ' re going to help unload and load kegs on those. Now, get busy! ' It took us almost two hours to finish, and, when the fire had been put out and the lanterns were extinguished, Bud came to me. ' You ' ve worked well. Would you like a keg? ' I ' m not a heavy drinker, but an offer like that was too good to be true. ' Sure, ' I said eagerly and started up to the truck. ' Wait a minute, ' he rasped. ' Have you got a car? ' I told him where it was, and he said finally, ' We ' ll leave your keg there. Now stay here for ten minutes after we leave, or you ' re a dead man. Get me? ' He rushed toward the truck and the driver started up the road. I waited ten minutes, then ran to my car so that I might hurry home and get to bed. I looked everywhere for the keg but to my eager eyes there was no keg in sight. My blood was up. I stepped in the car and jabbed at the starter viciously. The motor turned over, but that was all it did. After ten minutes I looked under the hood to discover the trouble. When I opened the hood, to my utter astonishment a hammer fell out. I wasn ' t astonished long, but I was mad for before me lay a row of spark plugs completely smashed to pieces! I walked five, long miles home and arrived there at two o ' clock. Mac helped me bring the flivver home the next day, and my anger soon wore off. Just remember this, if you work for a crook with a gun over you the whole time, don ' t expect anything but crooked work in the end! Betty Berrybitt. Just a ' Brook Tumbling, rollicking over the rocks, Dancing with sunbeams in glee, Fringed by ferns and beautiful trees, Is this little brook so free. Evil here does not exist For beauty around us lies In this place of quiet and rest Beneath our very eyes. Away from the city, away from the town, Where people and noises rule, Is this beautiful thing made by Nature and God, Just a brook, clear, calm, and cool. Constance Williams. The Lost Submarine ' JT ' he shrill shrieks of women ' s voices, the tooting of ship ' s whistles, a mad scurry of bustling feet, and John and Bob ' s stateroom door was thrown open. They, who had been aroused by the noise, were just tying their shoelaces. Ship is sinking! called Bob ' s father. Come on! Forget your shoes! They ran up on deck, and to their horror all the lifeboats had been launched. The ship was sinking rapidly. They made a raft out of life pre- servers. Then they went on it and lowered it to the water. They knew that the suction of the sinking ship would pull them under if they couldn ' t get away. They were without oars. While on deck they had found some oxygen tanks which would allow them to stay under water for from two to three hours. The ship keeled over and sank rapidly. It so happened that the weight of the oxygen tanks kept them submerged. Suddenly John exclaimed, Look! An old submarine! And so it was. Let ' s go in, Bob exclaimed. All right, said Mr. Robinson, Bob ' s father. As he lifted the catch of the conning tower, he was greeted and practically knocked over by a giant air bubble. As the last few bubbles wandered up to the surface, they climbed in and screwed down the hatch after themselves. Bob clambered down and opened the main hatch. They then got down into the control room. There was no water visible except that which had followed them in. Mr. Robinson led the search through the submarine. No one was to be seen. It was Mr. Robinson who noticed that the gauges were all right, that the oil was up, and that everything .was seemingly in excellent condition. What is holding the submarine down? inquired John. Nothing that I can see, said Mr. Robinson. How about the galley? Well stocked, I hope, said Bob. Yes, it is, was the welcome reply of Mr. Robinson. Let ' s eat and then turn in. After a sound night ' s sleep, Mr. Robinson awakened the boys with, We have a lot of work to do. Come on, and get up. They made several trips to the ship to get provisions, clothes, and other articles. Upon finding some of the ship ' s rooms filled with air, they at- tached the fire hose and emptied the air into the submarine so as to give it more buoyancy. Then they started out to find what strange force was holding the submarine down. When Bob walked around the bow of the submarine, he found himself sinking slowly. He could not cry for help, but luckily he was close enough to the submarine so that he could tap on its sides with his knife. Mr. Robinson wondered what that tapping was, but John recognized it as an S O S coming from the bow. They hastened forward and located Bob. An iron bar was close at hand so Mr. Robinson and John laid it out to Bob. He caught on and was pulled up. After getting back into the submarine and taking off their oxygen tanks, Mr. Robinson said, So that is the mysterious force that is holding the sub- marine down! I see. It was cruising along and ran into a hill. The crew got out thinking the submarine was in danger. Instead it was stuck in the quicksand. Why didn ' t it entirely disappear? was Bob ' s question. Seemingly just the nose is in the quicksand, and that alone kept it from being swallowed up, said Mr. Robinson. Look around for some rope. Several coils of rope were found. Mr. Robinson said, I got this idea from a picture which I saw some time ago. Here, tie up these levers and stand by for orders. Mr. Robinson turned and went to the periscope. Now, John, said Mr. Robinson, you have the elevating levers, and, Bob, you have the speed controls. O.K. Let ' s go! Full speed reverse. John, you fill those tanks with air. The motors hummed, and with a grinding noise the gauges showed a steady rise toward the surface. Ahoy, there! Level her out, said Mr. Robinson. Bob, put her ahead, and slow. Only fifty more feet to go. A few seconds later he exclaimed, Well, here we are. Shut off the engines. Let ' s go out on deck, were the enthusiastic cries of the two boys. They opened the hatch of the conning tower and were greeted by the sun ' s warm and welcome rays. There ' s a ship over there that we can flag, said Mr. Robinson. Oh, do we have to? said the children. My goodness! do we have to? was the surprised answer of Mr. Rob- inson. Let ' s sail home by ourselves. It would be lots more fun, was John ' s plea. It ' s up to you, young fellows, said Mr. Robinson, but I don ' t know where we are. That ' s all right. We ' ll find out where we are, said Bob. We Scouts know how to read compasses and other things. They returned to the captain ' s cabin. We ' ll sail north to 38 degrees. Then we ' ll steer in and down to enter the good, old Golden Gate. The trip homeward was uneventful except for an incident near the Golden Gate. Sailing as they were with no pilot and without a chart to show the reefs, they were in great danger. They took matters in their own hands and piloted through until a grinding sound was heard and the motor stopped. Now what? said Mr. Robinson. Fasten down the conning tower hatch. Ye gods! Out of fuel! Who would think it? Bob hastily said, The other gauge shows that we have some gas. Turn it on, and we ' ll be able to get home. They came into the harbor under the surface and pulled straight for Yerba Buena Island, stopping directly at the dock. Say, Mr. Robinson, why are you doing that? said John. Well, John, this is a United States submarine, and it is up to us to return it, said Mr. Robinson. Oh, couldn ' t we keep it? We found it, and it ' s a case of ' finders keepers losers weepers ' , said Bob. I am sorry, son, but it is not ours. It belongs to the United States ' Government, replied Mr. Robinson. With that remark, he blew the whistle several times, and a crew of men appeared. What ' s going on here? asked the man in the best looking uniform. We found, and we return the submarine No. S 43. Will you come aboard and inspect it so as to see that we have not harmed it in any man- ner? said Mr. Robinson. My goodness, said the officer, that submarine sank a year ago. It was supposed to have crashed. We had surmised so, sir, said Mr. Robinson. As they climbed down the conning tower, the story was briefly told. When they reached the bottom of the ladder, the officer said, My, what a maze of ropes. Where is your crew? Right here, said Mr. Robinson. It consists of John Smith, my son Bob Robinson, and myself. Well, Mr. Robinson, said the officer, we shall report this to Wash- ington, and you will shortly hear from us. A week later, word came that they would receive the submarine as a reward because it was old- fashioned and could no longer be used in active service. Carleton Cross. The zAir Mail Oh! the roar of the motor, the whir of the plane, Going onward and onward through sunshine or rain, Going onward and onward through hail or through sleet, Speeds steadily forward this swift ship and fleet. Its pilot is daring; its pilot is bold. Its pilot has faced many danges untold. Yet daytime or nighttime he ' s true to his trust For the service ' s law is, To do this he must! O ' er hill and o ' er valley, o ' er vale and o ' er stream; Then far in the distance he sees a small gleam. ' Tis the gleam of the light on a small monoplane. Then slowly this pinpoint of light ' gins to wane. Then nearer and nearer there looms a tall spire, Which faster and faster grows higher and higher. Of the whole air -way system this spire is the core. Oh, the air-mail pilot is back home once more. Morton Sivarth. Tuffy Jt ' s a dime anyway, isn ' t it, old pal? It won ' t be long before I have the rest and can take you home with me. Dickie spoke through the win- dow to the little pup with whom he had made friends. After school each evening Dickie rushed to the store window to make sure Turfy hadn ' t been sold. Dickie sold papers to help his father, who was not strong, secure food for them. This evening as he was on his way to get his bundle of papers, he stopped to talk to Tuffy and encourage him by showing him the dime he was going to put away to buy him. Conversation drifted out from the store as a very well-dressed man came toward the entrance to leave. I ' ll come for him in about an hour. I ' m sure my little girl will like him, said the man. As the large car rolled away, the storekeeper placed a card in the win- dow. Dickie saw the terrible word Sold in large, black letters. He was so grieved that he forgot his papers and stood with his nose pressed to the glass. Tuffy jumped up against the window and licked it as though he could read the look on Dickie ' s face. Dickie tried to speak to his friend, but his voice was choked. At last the fatal hour was up, and Dickie saw the tall man get out of his automobile. In the car sat a little girl about four years old playing with a red ball. Back in the store Dickie saw a lovely collar being fitted around Tuffy ' s neck. Blinded with tears, he started once more on his way when his foot struck a red ball which rolled out into the street. Quick as a flash the little girl was out of the car and after the ball. Dickie dashed after her. With all his strength he pushed her to safety, unable to avoid the approaching car himself. As he came out of the store, Tuffy saw his friend lying in the street. Breaking away from his new master, he darted to Dickie ' s side and refused to be separated when the man lifted him into The hospital room was very quiet when Dickie opened his eyes. He felt a pain in his head and he turned to see where he was. He felt a warm, furry body against his hand, and looking down he saw his dear Tuffy. He ' s going to be yours, said the nurse bending over the white bed to pat the little dog, a father ' s reward for saving his little daughter. Good old boy, Dickie murmured, as he fell into a quiet sleep. his car. Nancy Ann Smith. Mother ' s Cookies Mother ' s baking cookies, And, oh, they do smell good! Noiv they ' re in the oven. I would take one if I could! Mother says they ' re almost done. I can hardly wait, And, when at last they ' re finished, I always eat ' most eight. Some time you come to our house On mother ' s baking day, And you can have some cookies Made the good, old-fashioned way. Georgeanna Hays. White Kiiffnlo I Jncle promised to tell us the story of White Buffalo, an Indian who was his guide while he was exploring the Great Lake Territory. Everybody gathered around the fireplace and he began: It was midspring and everything was going fine until I woke up one morning to find myself securely tied. I looked to see if Chita, my partner, was tied. He was, but still asleep. I woke him up. He let out an oath that shook the mountains in protest, but, on finding himself tied, he turned and looked at me in astonishment and said, ' Whose joke is this? Til be blamed if I know, ' I said. We got untied and looked around the camp. Our guide, White Buffalo, was gone. Chita called my attention to the trail of the intruders. We packed what food we had left. Luckily for us the Indians, we had found out they were Indians by the type of footprints because there is no arch print, had overlooked our guns, powder, and ball. We didn ' t intend to attack. We wanted to find out who the Indians were that had captured White Buffalo. About noon we came to a cliff overlooking a small lake. Chita, who had gone a little to the left, mo- tioned for me to come. He pointed down to the base of the cliff and ut- tered the single word, ' Hurons. ' I grew cold. A clammy feeling crept over me. That word was terror on the frontier. We concealed ourselves in some bushes. We had a good view of the village. We were to be the unseen spectators of the torture of White Buffalo. There was a stake at the edge of the village with a circle of bushes around it. At the side was a fire by which were seated two warriors. One was turning a bar of metal in the fire. The rest of the people were at the other end of the village except a couple of playful boys who were dancing around the torture stake. Presently the noisy crowd began to move toward the stake. Two warriors were leading a young but perfectly built Blackfoot warrior. It was White Buffalo. The children were spitting and throwing sticks at the tall, muscular warrior, who paid no heed to them. He didn ' t seem to be moved by the fact that he would soon die, but instead he looked straight ahead and walked with his same, easy stride. The Hurons are known to eat the hearts of brave warriors whom they capture. White Buffalo was bound by the feet securely, but his hands were tied by some warrior who was too excited to tie carefully. The chief came up and asked White Buffalo some questions. He then drew the bar of hot metal out of the fire with a piece of buckskin and proceeded to roll it down White Buffalo ' s legs. This did not change the expression of his face, which was as calm as yours or mine right now. Just then there was a sharp crack of a gun. Chita had fired. The chief staggered and fell face down at the feet of White Buffalo. The warriors by force of habit ran for their weapons, momentarily forgetting their captive. The hot, metal bar fell on the buckskin bonds which held him, burning clear through them. White Buffalo picked up the hot, metal bar and flung it at the oncoming warriors who were making to- ward him. Two more sharp cracks were heard! Two more Huron war- riors fell dead! The other warriors became confused. Some turned to see where the shots had come from while others tried to get to White Buffalo, who had disappeared into the forest at the side of the village. We circled and found White Buffalo running swiftly toward us. He had discovered a river and a canoe, which he said were not far away. Hurons no good trackers, ' he said. ' Much harder to find trail if go in canoe. ' After three days and nights of hard traveling we reached the fort unharmed except for White Buffalo ' s burns. Douglas Miller. Cultan was a beautiful turkey. His feathers, now used as a duster, had slender, white stripes which looked very enchanting against the dusky background. Every evening at six o ' clock it was my duty to feed Sultan. As king of the barnyard he felt that it was beneath his dignity to eat with the common fowl. One day a small boy came to stay at the farm for his health. His mother had left orders that nothing must hurt her darling son. We could not punish him in any way. David was a very naughty, little boy, and it was with remarkable self-control that we refrained from spanking him. Sultan never had a peaceful moment after David ' s arrival. David would perch on the branch of a tree and with a long pole give short, vicious jabs at the poor turkey. The result was that Sultan became a maniac. He pecked at everyone who came near him. I, the feeder of the turkey, was afraid to go near the old bird, but I certainly could not admit my fear to the family. After many days of scheming, my brother and I thought of a plan which would surely work successfully. We knew well that David was not ill. He was just petted, so, after everyone was in bed, Jim and I stole softly out to the barnyard. With us we carried a butterfly net, some string, and a white cloth. After a little struggle we managed to capture Sultan, tie his legs, and cover him with the white cloth. Softly, oh! so softly, we sneaked onto the porch to David ' s window where we pushed Sultan into his room. David slowly opened his eyes. What was this strange presence which he felt? He sat up in bed and gazed speechlessly. There was a white thing moving about the room! Then with a loud shriek he bounded into mother ' s room. Mother gathered David in her arms and quieted his fears. She went into his room where she saw Sultan emerging from a white covering. The next morning at breakfast Jim and I put cushions in our chairs before we sat down. What mattered a spanking for we had accomplished our purpose? David never bothered Sultan again. Constance Barker. A PsintsiSY A great desert, somewhere in Nevada, day was vanishing into night. The beautiful desert sunset was passing when two scientists curled up in their sleeping bags. During the night their fire played a silent guard. Just when the morning sun peeped over the horizon, two specks moved off over the hot, sandy waste to explore a great salt cave. The salt had been deposited in prehistoric times by the waters of old Lake Boone - ville and gradually had been covered with silt. Thousands of years later, the Indians dug a great cave in their quest for salt. This cave had been discovered the day before by t he scientists when it was too late to explore its interior. The sun had grown hotter, and the rattlesnake coiled in the sun. The heat was making lakes and oases on the distant horizons. All the night prowling animals had disappeared. The two men went into the mouth of the cave. The interior was like a great auditorium with a very high ceiling and terraces resembling Japanese rice farms on the hillsides. These terraces furnished a footing for the Indians while they were getting the salt. The cave was brilliantly lighted for in the ceiling there were open- ings to let slender beams of sunlight strike innumerable, dazzling, salt crystals. The scientists, after a careful search for old Indian relics, found themselves at the foot of a great, stone image built by the Indians many years before Columbus started on his eventful voyage. This figure was about twelve feet high and had gre at, green eyes which glowed wickedly when reflecting the dazzling salt. The statue had been skillfully made from beautifully carved rocks. The men stood in awe of this relic of the far distant past. In a few minutes, however, they began to examine it. While touching the eyes, a hole suddenly opened in the wall behind the statue. Looking within, they saw a great chamber lighted by an unseen source of light. This chamber was evidently a room where the Indians had held their games, their feasts, and performed their ceremonies. It looked like a small, football field with stone seats surrounding a small circle. While the men were gazing at the arena, a multitude of Indians came from another entrance and sat down on the stone seats. The scien- tists watched them with fascination as presently another group of Red- men with bows and arrows entered. They formed a small circle in the middle of the arena. Small animals came from another entrance and the Indians tested their skill in killing the animals. After this they engaged in games, which were followed by a feast of freshly roasted animals, which had just been killed. After the feast was over, the Indians dis- appeared. The two men would have explored the interior but, as the last of the Redmen passed through the entrance, the mysterious light disappeared. Then, as the two men departed, the opening closed. The desert sun had set before they had reached their camp. The next morning the sky was just becoming tinted with a light orange color when the men were again on the road to the cave. They went directly to the stone image and touched the emerald eyes but, contrary to the day before, they failed to reopen the hole. When the men had left the night before, the delicate mechanism, which for centuries had been untouched, had broken when jarred by the shutting of the entrance. The two men after many unsuccessful efforts to repeat their experience re- turned to their camp with only the memory of the marvelous sight which they had beheld. The secret of the old salt mine is forever lost to mankind, but the statue sits as formerly with its emerald eyes looking into the future. Loring Barker. ESclatcri Koomcmmj J £ Y cousin who attended the University of California about ten years ago decided to go to the University of Adelaide to continue his studies under Dr. Robertson, who had accepted a post in the Australian University. He was interested in the peculiar geology of Australia, so he spent a vacation in arid, Western Australia. He spent a few days in a little village in this sparsely settled country. There was a corner-store, meeting place where all the villagers congregated evenings. One evening my cousin found when he reached the corner gathering that he was not the only stranger. The other newcomer was also a Yankee , a typical traveling agent who soon revealed that his name was Edward Davis. He was busily engaged in trying to entertain the rustic audience. Davis related in a loud, boastful voice of all his expe- riences in different, distant places, and he bragged of his physical strength. Then he said, I ' ll tell you fellows, there ' s nothing requiring physical skill I can ' t do, just nothing at all. A lean, gaunt native spoke slowly in reply. Stranger, I think there might be many things you couldn ' t do. Now, for instance, bet you can ' t throw a stone across the Darling River. Edward Davis immediately bet he could. The spirit and wagers ran high. My cousin knew the Darling River was only about fifty yards wide at the appointed spot. He also knew the unique geological structure of the surrounding country, so he was at the designated place the next morning in time to witness the event. When he arrived, all the villagers seemed to have met there. Davis wandered toward the group of specta- tors. The unconcerned salesman walked up and down the bank scrutiniz- ing carefully each step he traversed. When the braggart retired to the laughing crowd, he drew a stone from his pocket, took aim carefully, and hurled it across the river. Now, boys, Davis said, turning to look at them, pay up! You see I ' ve been here before. I knew there weren ' t any stones hereabout so I brought my own with me! Elizabeth Bums. A Atiinlermis Osiiiic ' JpHE Sieur de lan Mer, the French knight who is visiting Devlen Castle, resideth in the same wing as my Lord George, and thither I journeyed one day, bearing a flagon of wine. Upon reaching the chamber door, I paused to set aright my plumed cap. As I did so, I caught a wee mite of the conversation. I must admit that I tarried longer than was necessary to hearken to their words. I shall remove the king, said a voice. One more false move, and I shall remove him. Pardieu! An thou dost so, I shall remove thine, and thy fair queen also. snarled a voice in French. Traitors, plotters! I thought. Whom could I trust to tell? Lord Mackworth might be one of the conspirators. Finally my mind ' s eye lit on my sage instructor in arms who must be in his office at this moment. Thither I ran. When I reached there, breathless, excited, I told my tale, and he agreed to come with me. When we reached the door, covered with arras as it was, we could listen behind it without being discovered, and this we did. The two were carrying on much the same conversation. Finally we could restrain our- selves no longer so Sir James Lee entered the room crying in a loud voice, How now, messieurs? What coil is this about removing the king? We are just having a game of chess, said Lord George, and thou, Falworth, where is our wine? Mary Anne Del more. I often wonder when I look Up in the heavens high And see a cloud so fleecy white Slowly foating by. I wonder what it really is. I know it seems to me To be an ever -changing shape That ' s full of mystery. Sometimes it looks just like a ship With its snowy sails unfurlel, A ship that carries passengers Over the whole wide world. Again it looks like a castle white With towers smooth and high, A castle with turrets that seem to read) U p to the roof of the sky. At times it seems like a little, white bird Winging through the sky so blue. O cloud, I wish that I might be Floating up there with you. Gladysmae Swantner. The ;ic m of (.old J7 nclosed in a flaming aurora of color, daylight slowly crept into the shadows of the Andes. The old prospector built a small fire from dried sticks and placed over it a dingy coffeepot. He paused watching the sun steal on the world, thinking of the many times he had watched the dawn just this way. Forty years hoping to strike a rich gold vein! All these years and he had found only enough gold nuggets to buy provisions. The steaming coffeepot brought him back to his wea ry encampment. While eating his scanty meal, he thought of discovering the richest gold vein in all South America, hurrying back to a nearby settlement, pur- chasing the land, hiring workers, and people flocking to the sight of his find, a gold rush! There would be men sweating at his command, and he preparing a journey to the mecca of South America, Buenos Aires. Such exicted comments as he passed by, a man with a million pesos! A big house and the most expensive Spanish food, luxuries instead of black coffee, lima beans and stale bread. The happy vision disappeared as Old Sol reared himself higher in the heavens. A minute of packing and off he started, plodding along, stopping here and there to strike rocks in the hope of a rich find. Ah, his near-sighted eyes did find one, but alas, the vein was small. However, he mined a large sackful and started for the nearest settlement. After tramping day and night, he turned his footsteps into the small office of a gold buyer. He looked at the gold, a small amount, but maybe enough for a bushel of potatoes for his poor dinner. The trim-looking man who examined the gold looked queerly at the prospector and then said, This isn ' t gold! These dull veins here are platinum. Your find is worth ten thousand pesos! Hardly believing what he heard, the old man received the money with shaking hands. His find was the talk of the town, and soon the old man was seen frequenting the gambling halls and saloons. Spending money right and left, he almost brought back prosperity itself. A fortnight later, as the dawn burst through the overhanging clouds, a sorrowful figure was seen to start from the village into the Andes. The old prospector, having luckily salvaged enough money for scanty pro- visions, was tramping back to the mountains. He had had his fling at life, and once more he journeyed toward the heights. He paused halfway up the mountain side to watch the shadows flee across the Andes as the sun attained the higher heights. Recalling that he was still without breakfast, he started a small fire, making note of the fact that he would have to be more careful with the matches this trip, as he had remembered that he had had only enough money for his two dingy boxes. Douglass Cayjie. ABIiamlira Echoes Taken By Surprise hen I was over in Europe, I was wandering one day off in a lonely path of the Alhambra. I suddenly stumbled and looked down, and there was something rusty partly protruding from the bottom of a rock. Of course I picked it up. When I got it in my hands, I saw that it was a very queer key, and it had something engraved upon it. I took the key and went to find my mother to show it to her. We soaked it in oil, and, after most of the rust had come off, my mother said that the inscription on it was Moorish. I decided to take it to an old Moor in Granada and see what he could tell me about it. When I got to his shop, he took the key from me to study it for a few minutes, and then he told me it was worth something. I asked what the writing said, and he told me, Twenty steps west of the Tower of Comares, two feet down. Mother paid him well, and we went to find this place. We took a shovel with us and soon found what seemed to be the right spot. I started digging. I dug and dug till I was tired, and the hole was about two feet deep. Mother and I decided to sit down, so we did and ate a couple of sandwiches. I was getting discouraged but took up the shovel and went at it again. Clink! I ' ve hit something! I said to Mother. I put my shovel into the dirt again and heard the same sound. I pushed the dirt away, and there was something rusty, which we dragged out. It was a box about six by six inches, and it looked very old and queer. I hurried and stuck the key into the keyhole. It opened all right, and there, sure enough, were some old coins. When we counted them, we found only as much as Mother had paid the old Moor for reading the inscrip- tion. We had not gained anything, but anyway it was a surprise. Jt happened while I w as touring Spain. I visited the Alhambra, a Moor- ish citadel and palace in Granada. The afternoon sun was sultry and hot. I had just visited the tower where the Three Beautiful Princesses had been kept, and I had been thinking also of the Rose of the Alhambra. I wandered into the Court of the Lions and sat down beside the fountain. Suddenly sweet music came to me, so faintly at first I thought it was the splashing of the water in the fountain. I was feeling sleepy in the afternoon heat and too lazy to move, so that when a Spanish maiden came out and danced to the sweet music of a lute, I was not surprised. I heard a man ' s voice murmur softly, Sen- orita, my Rose of the Alhambra. I looked and there beside the Spanish maiden stood a boy. He was wearing the elegant uniform of a page. He leaned against a pillar of one of the beautiful arches and followed the movement of the dancer with his eyes. Just as he stepped toward her with Bob Anderson. The Secret of the Fountain outstretched arms, water from the fountain splashed against my cheek. I awoke. A handsome guard was smiling at me. The music of the foun- tain still played its little tune, but, as I turned to leave the Court of the Lions, I saw a beautiful red rose floating in the fountain. It wasn ' t there before I fell asleep, and the guard said no one had entered the court. Only the water in the fountain and the arches of the Alhambra share my secret. Win f red Garret son. Kerf ' s Visit to the iillinmlirn J ert and his mother were going to Granada to see some relatives of theirs. Look, Mother, said Bert, I think I see the station, but it is still raining. As they got off the train, they both quickly put up their umbrellas and walked down the street. Their relatives lived a few blocks from the station. Bert in his excitement lost track of his mother and was following another woman instead. He had gone about three blocks when he discovered his mistake. The day was drawing to a close, and already he could see black streaks stretch- ing across the cloudy sky. This was his first visit to Spain. He did not know where his aunt lived so he looked about for shelter for the night. In the distance through a flash of lightning he could see the Alhambra. Thinking it would be a good place to spend the night, he went into it. The halls were long and dark. A shiver ran down his spine as he walked down the passage. He walked along until he saw a place that looked com- fortable. Cuddling up in a corner, he was soon fast asleep, but his dreams were quickly disturbed by rough voices. Here he is, said one. Bert looked about, and he could see a Moorish king with a few men of his court. Come with me, said the king. You are the one that eloped with my daughter. But, sir, said Bert, frightened more than ever, I-er-. Never mind trying to get out of it now. I know you by your black hair and the freckles on your nose, said the king. I would have gotten you sooner if that spell had not been put on me, but now that it is broken for a few hours I have you, and there is no way of escaping. Poor Bert could not explain to the king so he was forced to go with him to the trial room. The trial was a very weird one to Bert and terrifying because every- one was against him. Aha! said the king, he shall be beheaded. Bert was put on the beheading stand. Just then there was a great rumble. The spell! the spell! gasped the people of the court. Our release has come to an end, and we will have the enchantment upon us for ten more centuries. All was quiet. Little by little all the people vanished. It had been a dream! The rumble Bert had heard was a crash of thun- der. He opened his eyes wider and looked about to make sure he was not still dreaming. My! said Bert, that sure was a scary dream! As he looked about, he could see the sun was coming up. The Alhambra was not so weird by day as at night. Just then a gua rd of the Alhambra came along. Bert told him his story, and the keeper who knew Bert ' s relatives took him to their home. Bert thanked the guard and told his mother of his strange night. Lois Bradshaw. The Piece of Jnile IVl Y ' WHAT A GLORIOUS day! murmured Janet. Just the sort of a day for horseback riding. Little golden sunbeams found their way down through the arch of tall trees and danced merrily upon the path before her. It was a dreamy, drowsy, summer day, and Janet upon her slick little Blackie was sauntering aimlessly down the little mountain path. Suddenly the silence was broken by a shrill cry and a shriek of pain. Janet started, and Blackie stopped short. What was that? cried Janet. There it sounded again not very far from her. Then from around the bend of the path came an Indian, shrieking madly. Janet Morgan, her father, mother, and brother were spending their summer vacation in the northern part of Mexico. There were many In- dians around these parts, but most of them were friendly so Janet was not greatly alarmed to see this Indian running toward her. She hur- riedly dismounted, ran toward him, and asked him what was the matter. The Indian didn ' t seem to be able to stop yelling long enough to tell her, but he pointed with his free hand to a snake which was gliding rapidly away. Janet understood at once, having had experience of this kind be- fore. She pulled out her pocket knife, opened the wound, and sucked the poison out. Then, tearing her handkerchief in half, she bound up his hand as tightly as she could. The Indian made signs of gratitude and disappeared into the woods. Janet climbed back onto Blackie and started for home. Their camp was very plain for Janet ' s family was not very rich. However, they had been able to send Janet ' s brother to college, but Janet ' s possibility of going to college was not very bright. It was of this denied pleasure that Janet was thinking as she sat in the doorway of the cabin the next morning. Suddenly she lifted her head, and there in front of her stood the Indian! In his arms was something he carried with great care. Janet greeted him and asked about his hand. The Indian, not being able to speak English, made signs showing it was better. Then he placed the package he was holding so carefully in Janet ' s lap, making signs showing she was to keep it as a gift. Janet looked up to thank him, but to her surprise he was gone. She opened the package and gasped with surprise at what she saw, for in the package was a large piece of fine, old Mexican jade which Janet knew was very valuable. She took it into the cabin, and her father told her that the jade would be worth enough money to start her on her college career. How thankful Janet was that fate had guided her along the path to where the Indian was. Shirley Becker. Air Trouble Qne afternoon while I was in Kansas City, I heard an airplane crash. As I was interested in airplanes, I decided to see the plane. On arriving at the scene of the crash, I found that the front part of the plane was almost demolished and that the pilot, co-pilot, and one passenger had been killed. The two saved had been taken to a hospital before I arrived. The police were trying to keep back the crowd, but one man slipped past them. When ordered back, he showed the policeman a card and began to examine the plane. I was watching him when he happened to notice me. It was Starling, my college chum. Well, hello, Roberts. I had no idea that you were here, he said. Hello, yourself, Starling, I replied. What are you doing here? I ' m investigating this crash for the company that owns the plane. It seems that this is a new model of plane, and they want to know why it crashed. But when did you turn detective? Soon after college. Would you like to help me examine the plane? With great pleasure! I replied. He walked to the spot where the motor was. It was almost destroyed, but Starling noticed many things that escaped me. He leaned over and picked up something. He showed me two pieces of metal. One was a flattened piston, but the other I didn ' t recognize. Now here is something interesting, said he. When two pistons from the same engine look so different, something unusual has happened. That a piston? I cried, as it was a shapeless piece of metal with one piece jutting out. Yes, you will notice the connecting rod of this piston closely resem- bles the piece sticking out of the other. What made them different? I asked. One has been melted by great heat. Probably an explosion, Starling replied. What do you think caused it? I asked, but Starling was deep in thought. Finally he said, I have to get back to town now. I ' ll call at your home about three o ' clock to-morrow. Good-bye. The next day when I saw Starling, I asked how the investigation was progressing. He replied that he had been making inquiries and experi- ments and that he believed that it had been more than a mere airplane accident. What then do you think it was? I inquired. Murder! was his reply. That explosion was not a natural one. It had unusual force. What caused the explosion then? Liquid air, was the prompt reply. Liquid air! How could it? It was fed into the engine with gasoline. The heat of the engine ex- panded the liquid air, and, as it compressed to 2,200 pounds per square inch, you can imagine its tremendous power. Liquid air fuses metal when in contact with flame, and that explains the condition of the piston. Well, who was the murderer? said I. That remains to be seen, but first we must know the intended vic- tim. Here is what I have learned about the passengers: the pilot, David Burwick, killed, born 1909 in Boston, has been a pilot about a year, just transferred to this route, well liked by all. It isn ' t likely that he ' s the one. Co-pilot, James Martin ,killed, born 1898 in Omaha, flew in the war, been on this route about a year and a half, a bit grouchy. Maybe he was the murderer. He was probably jealous of the young pilot, said I. Let ' s get them all, answered Starling. Carl White, killed, born 1900 in New York, had been fairly successful in business. He was going to see about the sale of some wheat. Lawrence Towers, born 1897 in Denver. He flew in the war and brought down the plane safely when his pilot was shot down by Germans. He is a newspaper reporter now and was there to get a story of the flight. He got a story. Have you read his write-ups of the accident? Yes, I answered. He poses as the hero. To continue: John Baker, born 1901 near St. Paul. He had worked his way up in the company that owned the plane and was along to report on the plane ' s performance. He says he heard a strange noise in the gas tank, which, he thinks, was a leak. There you are: three dead, a company official with a broken arm, and a newspaper reporter only bruised and scratched. What do you make of it? Nothing at all. In fact I don ' t believe it was a murder, I ventured to say. I hardly expected a lawyer to believe me, said Starling, chuckling. The more I think about it the more— —Let me see those names again, Roberts? Peculiar that— -Why, I have it all now! I have to follow up this clue, Roberts. Meet me at the Downtown Hotel at 8 o ' clock to- night. With these words, Starling left the room. I must admit that I was completely puzzled over the case, but I decided to be patient. Eight o ' clock found Starling leading me out of the hotel into a wait- ing taxi. When the taxi rolled to a stop, we were in front of a hospital. But Starling, I protested, here you have dragged me to this hospital without a word of explanation. You will pardon me if I seem neglectful, he replied as we entered the hospital, but I have been planning my next move. We have come here to see Towers, the newspaper reporter. He seems to be making the best of his misfortune. Inside an open door we saw a photographer taking pictures of a man in bed. We caught expressions like these: Get a worried look on your face; don ' t forget you have had a terrible experience; what luck! best story I ever got; that ' s better — hold it; ' bye! When the photographer was through, we entered, and Starling said, Good evening, Mr. Towers. I am from the airplane company, and I want your version of what happened. We were flying along when we hit an air pocket. The next instant there was an explosion, probably due to an overheated gas tank. The plane pancaked down, and Baker and I were safe. I was lucky not to be killed as I was near the front. Could I quote you as saying you saw nothing to suggest a planned accident? I believe so, but why do you ask? The authorities have thought that perhaps the co-pilot ' s jealousy of the pilot caused trouble, said Starling. Towers ' face brightened and he asked, Is that all, gentlemen? No, there ' s another thing I want to ask. Did you notice anything that could have shaken the co-pilot just before the flight? Why, no! In fact I didn ' t see him. Here, take a drink of water! cried Starling, as Towers looked very ill. Roberts and I examined the engine. We observed that one piston looked like metal fused by liquid air, but I needn ' t tell you this, since you used liquid air for your own murderous ends! Towers started out of bed, but Starling quickly handcuffed him. He looked so violently ill I asked, Shall I call a nurse? No, Roberts, call a policeman. On the way home, my curiosity got the better of me. How in the world did you unravel that problem, Starling? I asked. I first decided that it was a murder when I saw the explosion had been from inside the engine. Then I saw that only liquid air could have made the explosion. As I told you before, the only way for the liquid air to get into the engine was with the gasoline. I checked the feed lines and found parts of a bottle used for handling liquid air in the gas tank in the wing. This checked with Mr. Baker ' s story. I was searching for the intended victim when I noticed that both Mr. Martin, the co-pilot, and Towers had flown in the war. I inquired and found that Towers and Martin had been in the same unit in France. On further inquiry, I learned that Towers and an officer were flying in a bomber protected by Martin in a pursuit plane. Then the officer was killed by the Germans. I took a guess that Towers had killed the officer, Martin being the only witness. Martin ' s agitation on seeing Towers at the airport proved that to me. From all, I deducted that Towers knew Martin was flying on this route. His conscience probably had been torturing him so he hit upon this scheme to kill Martin and himself at the same time. He obtained some liquid air, put this into a bottle, and put the bottle into the gas tank. When the plane hit the air pocket, the bottle broke against the side of the tank. The liquid air flowed into the motor, exploding in the first cylinder it reached. Luckily all the passengers were not killed, and the newspaper man decided to start life with a clean slate now that the one man who could witness against him was dead. He probably would have done so, if two meddling persons had not started an investigation. Charles Bell. Loyalty ' ° a Agister John, a boy of twelve, was sitting on the doorstep with a frown on his face. Here he was, left all alone with the exception of his dog Jumbo. The cause of this scowl was because his friends had gone on a hike and left him alone. He kicked Jumbo, and the dog let out a howl of pain. Out of the window he heard a familiar voice calling him. What did his mother want anyway? Running down the driveway and turning into the road, he was followed unheard and unseen by Jumbo. Well, at least he had escaped running on an errand. Then he had an inspiration. He would go swimming! He would teach his friends. It was a warm spring day too. It was so far to walk to Out- line Pool that he thought it did not matter to hook a ride. Jumping on the back bumper of the next car, he went whizzing along the road. Sud- denly the car went over a big bump. John was thrown off the car to the side of the road where he hit his head on a huge rock and lay there un- conscious. Jumbo, who had continued following John, ran up to him. He licked the bump on his head and dragged him to a grassy spot. Just then a car went by, and Jumbo, seeing that barking did no good, ran his fastest, getting ahead of the car. Then stepping out in the middle of the road, he made the car stop. A man got out, and to Jumbo ' s delight he saw it was Dr. Horte. Taking the man by the pants ' leg, he forced him to go to John. The doctor examined his head and lifted him into his car. Quickly driving to John ' s house, he rang the doorbell. John ' s mother answered the bell, and he was put to bed. The doctor said that death had been possible if he had come a minute later. You can imagine how John treated his dog when he was well again. Barbara Bush. Tommy Wililile Wolilile JpOMMY arrived at her new domain during September. Lulu Wibble Wobble accompanied her but died shortly after. Tommy was so named because she was thought to be a man duck. A little while later Tommy ' s owner moved, taking the duck with her. Tommy spent all her time in the back yard eating bugs and worms, enjoying herself immensely. One day Mrs. Morgan went out into the back yard. Seeing that Tommy was quite upset, she went over to the bush that Tommy had claimed as her own. Here she found eleven eggs in a nest of down. It was then that the owner realized that she had misnamed the duck, but it was too late to change the name for Tommy would not come when called by any other name. Since then she has laid about thirty eggs and is quite a pet. She has gotten into the habit of coming up on the back steps and knock- ing at the door by hitting it with her bill as if to say, May I come in? Janice Morg an. 9 A Treasure Hunt PJey, Tom! called Ted. What ' s the matter? asked Tom. Look! Our frog is dead. Gee, what happened to it? I think it was run over by a car, replied Ted. Poor old Greenback. Well, let ' s get a box and bury him. That is a good idea, but where shall we get a box? Perhaps Mother has one. You hold the frog, and I ' ll go and ask her, said Ted. Ted went into the house and found his mother in the kitchen. Mother, have you a small, tin box that we can have? asked Ted. I think so, Ted, but what do you want it for? Our frog just died, and we want to bury him. Where do you intend to bury him, son? asked his mother. In the back yard, I suppose, answered Ted. Oh, no, you ' re not, warned his mother. You take him out to the woods along the lake and bury him there. O. K., Mom., replied Ted as she gave him a small, tin box. That afternoon the two boys went out into the woods and buried the frog in a well hidden spot at the roots of an old tree. When they had covered the little grave with vines and leaves, they placed a large stone on top of it and put a small X in chalk on the stone to mark the spot. They walked slowly back home. On the way Tom remarked, What if we forget where he is buried? Don ' t you think we should have a map? To this Ted readily agreed and a map was made which looked when finished very much like a pirate ' s map. This turned out to be wasted effort for the map was soon lost, and even Greenback was forgotten. About four weeks later Joe Brent, who lived next door, came rush- ing over to tell Tom and Ted that he knew where some hidden treasure was buried and he was going to let them in on the secret on one condi- tion, a promise to be taken to the spot blindfolded. What is the big idea? asked Ted. Well, you can help me dig, replied Joe, but the chest may be too big to bring back, and it ' s just as well you don ' t know too much about it. Oh, all right, agreed Ted. When do we start? Tonight, replied Joe. But why dig for it at night? asked Tom. Well, who ever heard of anyone ' s digging for buried treasure in the daytime? exclaimed Joe. O. K., Joe, agreed Tom. We ' ll meet you by your front gate at midnight. That night the boys met by the front gate as planned. Ted and Tom were blindfolded and led along by Joe over road and path out into the woods. Several times Joe stopped and flashed his light on a small map he was carrying, and then the march proceeded. Suddenly a mysterious noise was heard directly above their heads, and they all stood frozen in their tracks. What was that? whispered Tom. Somebody said, ' Whooo ' , answered Joe. Gee, Joe, wish I wasn ' t blindfolded, said Ted. When Joe came to the exact spot and found the rock marked with a white X, he could have shouted for joy. In his excitement he rolled the rock away and began to dig, forgetting all about the two boys with him. Say, Joe, what are we waiting for? asked Tom. Why this is the spot, cried Joe. You can take off the blindfold now. The two boys obeyed, and after a while each took a turn at digging. My, but it is dark, said Ted. If it wasn ' t for that flash light, we would be almost lost. I never knew the woods were so spooky at night. Then there was a clinking sound as Joe ' s shovel hit a tin object. He threw away his shovel and kneeling removed a small, tin box. Tom and Ted were so surprised that they were speechless. Then as Joe opened the box and viewed the remains of poor Greenback, Tom and Ted rolled on the ground and laughed until they cried. Marion Tor pen. Aunt .tone ' s Itulc Qne day Aunt Jane came for a visit. Upon arriving, she saw my brother Tom ' s motorcycle in front of the house. She asked Tom what that newfangled contraption was. He explained as best he could. When he had finished his explanation, Aunt Jane announced to a very astonished family that she wished to take a ride on the motorcycle. Fin- ally Aunt Jane and Tom were off. Tom went very slowly at first for fear of shocking Aunt Jane. They had no sooner gotten out of sight of the house than Aunt Jane told Tom she would like to go faster. He went a little faster, but that wasn ' t fast enough. Tom increased the speed until finally they were really going fast. Once Aunt Jane got a little too con- fident when they went around a corner, and she was nearly dumped onto the ground. Her legs went up in the air, and her hat fell off. At home a neighbor came running up the walk. She told mother that Aunt Jane would be dead by the time she got home because Tom was going so fast. Mother hurried through the house gathering all the things that poor Aunt Jane might need for her nervous breakdown that she was surely going to have. When they finally reached home, we were all lined up in front of the house, each holding something that Aunt Jane might need. We rushed down to the motorcycle and started helping her out, but to our surprise she pushed us off and told us she could get out of that con- traption alone. Mother told her that she must go to bed at once. Aunt Jane said she would not put a foot in bed. In fact, she said, I am taking Tom with me to help me pick out a motorcycle. Aunt Jane did buy a motorcycle. When she got home, she hired a chauffeur to drive around in her motorcycle. Marian Fisher. The Adventure of n Squire John Moreland was a squire in the immense castle of the Earl of Tun- bridge. The Earl of Tunbridge had gai ned his power through the death of Richard II and was now one of the most powerful earls in the land. About the time John Moreland had been a squire eight months, the Earl of Tunbridge had a bitter quarrel with his neighbor, the Earl of Southmore, whose castle was about fifty miles away. The Earl of South- more was also very powerful and owned much land. The two lords had never been very friendly, and now they were the bitterest of enemies. There had always been a dispute over who should control a certain road between their castles, and at last the matter had become serious. The Earl of Southmore stationed his men around and began to besiege Tun- bridge Castle. The people in Tunbridge Castle were not very much wor- ried because they had a good supply of food and two wells where they could get water. One night John was instructed to take some armor to the smithy for repairs, and, as he was crossing the great quadrangle quite close to the huge, stone wall, he discovered several objects that seemed to be stealthily moving on top of the wall. John finally recognized them as the heads and shoulders of men. They could not be the guards because the guards would be pacing up and down. Then like a flash John realized what was hap- pening. All the guards along this part of the wall had been captured and the Earl of Southmore ' s men were making a surprise attack! Before he could sound the alarm, several dark forms had dropped on him and had bound and gagged him. He heard one of the soldiers say in a whisper, Take him back with the others and send them all to Southmore Castle. They will give us all the information we need or wish they had never been born. John could feel himself being lifted over the wall, and on the other side he was put into a small, wooden cart. The poor guards had evidently been sent on ahead. John was thinking fast now. He knew that if he could only get free he could go to the Earl of Tunbridge ' s friend, the Earl of Salisbury, who would surely come to the rescue. The soldier who had tied John up in the dark evidently had made a poor job of it for in a little less than an hour John had his left hand free. In a minute he had untied his other hand and his feet and was out of the cart. After a two hours ' grueling journey, John arrived at the gates of the castle of the Earl of Salisbury. He had a hard time gaining admittance because he looked like a beggar after his journey. When he had finally gotten in and had told his story to the Earl, within twenty minutes the Earl of Salisbury and all his men were on the march for Tunbridge Castle. The suprise attack of the Earl of Southmore had completely routed the Earl of Tunbridge ' s men and they were on the verge of surrender when the timely arrival of the Earl of Salisbury and his men saved the day. The combined forces of the Earl of Tunbridge and the Earl of Salisbury immediately made a counter attack which resulted in the utter defeat and surrender of the Earl of Southmore. In a few days when things had quieted down and the Earl of Tun- bridge and the Earl of Salisbury had divided up the estate of the Earl of Southmore, John Moreland was called into the bedchamber of his master, who was having livery, and was told that in three days he would be made a knight as a reward for his bravery and quick wit on the night of the battle. Arthur Mcintosh. Kelly Koy I ' s Bravery N expensive car slid up to the side entrance of a dilapidated farm- house. It was midnight, and the moon half hidden by clouds. Two men jumped out of the car and placed their unconscious burden just in- side the door. Exchanging a whispered word with the opener of the door, they were back, and the car glided off as silently as it had come. Judy Boyd, attractive sixteen-year-old heiress, awoke in a strange hayloft. Her eyes fluttered slowly open, and a dull throb kept beating in her heavy head. When her dazed thoughts had ceased whirling and eddying in her brain, she remembered leaving Sue ' s house, the car sliding up behind her, her useless attempts to scream, and then darkness. Trying to move, she found herself tightly bound and gagged. She felt stiff, cramped, cold, and hungry. Surly voices beyond the wall heightened her fear. In another room of the same farmhouse, a girl just Judy ' s age was sweeping. Up since long before dawn, her position in life was housemaid to the kidnapping chain which used this out-of-the-way farm for a hid- ing place. Beaten and underfed, she looked scarcely more than half her age, much less the beauty she might have been. Her heart went out to Judy, and she determined to help her. If only my parents had been able to pay the enormous ransom asked, I might now be back there instead of — and hot tears filled her eyes. Oh well, what is, is. It can ' t be undone, but I ' ll help her escape. I don ' t know how, but I will! She swept more earnestly than usual and made an astonishing dis- covery. A thin slit revealed a trapdoor which opened to the light! Hear- ing footsteps approaching, she hastily went on with her sweeping. That night they had forgotten to lock her door. She crept softly into the loft, woke Judy, and cut her ropes. The floor never creaked so much before! Oh, I know they ' ll hear us! One last unearthly squeak, and they were free! How to drive a car had been a part of Judy ' s education. The gang used the old barn for a garage. Through an oversight, the ignition key had been left in one of the cars. They sped down the road, each moment sure they were being followed. Reaching the Boyd home, they aroused a police squad, and the links of another great chain were broken forever. The whole country rocked with the news, and the thrilling tale was on every tongue. The brave young rescurer was adopted by the Boyd family and christened Betty. She became a favorite and friend of all. Judy often remarks, And I had to be kidnapped to get a sister! Barbara Watkins. Aty Scotch Terrier have a cute, little Scotch terrier, who is only nine months old, and he certainly is mischievous. We tried to teach him to sit up, but his little back is not strong enough yet. One Sunday when I was alone, I managed to teach him to give me his paw. He is very awkward at times and gives it to me stiffly way out to one side and nearly falls over. One rainy day, which was the first one he had encountered, we put him outside. We stood watching the funny expression on his face as if to say, Now what! For a moment he sat puzzled over the matter. Then he started to bark but soon found he couldn ' t stop it that way. He sat looking like the last rose of summer for a while when an idea popped into his head, and it was a very funny one. There he was snapping at the drops one by one, pretending to be very fierce. Alas! All was in vain. He just could not make it stop raining. Flustered and wet he came in shaking himself vigorously. Then he ran in by the fire to see if he could solve this deep mystery. Rosemary Raybourne. Frifjlit Jt was just about midnight when I was suddenly awakened from a sound sleep. A dreadful, howling noise reached my ears which sent cold shiv- ers up and down my back. The howling noise came closer and closer to me, and something bounded upon my bed! I never was so frightened in my life. I dived under the covers, pulling them far over my head. Some- thing was clawing at the bed covers trying to pull them away. I decided to see what was there, so very cautiously I peeped from under the covers. To my horror a bundle of fur jumped into my arms! Then I heard a timid meowing, and something licked my face. There was Fluffy, my kitten, who had given me such a fright. Alice Kee loner. All ' s Well Tlmf timls Well Qne day I was walking through a narrow path in the woods when all of a sudden there in front of me lay a huge rattlesnake. My blood ran cold, and I could not move. After one terrible minute, I gathered enough courage to try to pick up a rock. Just when my fingers touched the rock, the snake coiled and was about to strike when there behind the snake was a flash of brown and white. The snake was dead in my dog ' s mouth. I gave a sigh of relie f and started home with my best pal, the dog, beside me. Yukio Hibino. That Future Shadow Oh, wouldn ' t life be joyous, And wouldn ' t life be gay If I could go to movie shows And bridge teas every day} Ne ' er have to wash and iron, Ne ' er have to bake and stew, Nor any of the tiresome things That housewives have to do. Oh, that would be an ideal life Quite heavenly, and yet — Perhaps it wouldn ' t after all — Just think how fat I ' d get. Marilyn Mitchell. A Story of Snakes man, his name is no affair of ours, lived near the Grand Canyon. Now you know that this country is full of snakes. The hero of this story extracted snake-oil from rattlesnakes, to pay for his meager expenses. In the winter snakes hibernate, and it was at this time that our hero dug them up, laid them out in the snow, and froze them. Then he slit them and extracted the oil. On a cold winter ' s night he banked his fire and left for a nearby town for a good time. During his absence a man floundered through the snow, very much inebriated. Seeing a cabin and finding it unlocked, he entered, and, the fire being low, he laid several, long, slender sticks of wood on it. Taking off his shoes and with one more good pull on his bottle, he settled into a chair. A slick, slimy feeling awakened him. Now partly sober, he stared. Yes, it was the truth, snakes! Look what whiskey had done for him! Leaving the door open in his haste, he fled from this accursed place. Our hero returned. He saw the door open and a much upset room. Several snakes lay slumbering on the floor. It was a much surprised man who straightened his cabin that night, and to this day he swears that the snakes became lonely and held a party of their own. Ross Snyder. Bounding Beau I have a dog whose ttame is Beau, Into whose mouth the food doth flow. He gobbles down his meal like mad, But still he isn ' t very bad. He ' ll walk for you on his hind legs. He ' s cute ivhen he sits up and begs. He ' ll tunnel ' twixt your lower limbs; In fact he has amazing whims. He ' ll get right up when you say, Walk! When his tail wags, it almost talks. Although he irritates at times, His pranks can hardly be called crimes. Stewart Mulford. STUDENT OFFICERS Our Student Body Record JpOR the past term the student council of this school has endeavored to build up a regime of self-government. To a certain degree this has been successful. The plan has been to have the student officers note in the yards any violations of school rules and then to have a discussion of the mis- demeanors in the council meeting for the improvement and remedy of the unsatisfactory conditions. The student council is a group of students representing the personnel of Willard. The meetings of the council are held every other Friday. The representatives are Janice Graff, Gordon Jones, Bob Maxwell, Marion Smith, Paul Cole, Rachel Forbes, Elsa Sched- ler, Bill Black, Claire Thatcher, Doris Cooper, George Stevens, Charles Lundholm, Mary-Lou Upton, Ynez Johnston, Harold Swantner, Anne Duhring, Grace Tufts, Dorothy McGregor, Patsy Stava, Charles Tyler, Jane Erickson, Billy Finley, Bill Simpson, Thelma Hume, Armstrong Hunter, George Becker, Clive Anger, Jack Gill, Leonard Meyer, Eugenie Hannon, and Bill Pomeroy. The Junior Red Cross Representative is Betty Ann Thomas. There have been several general assemblies this past term. They were Lincoln ' s Birthday, Washington ' s Birthday, the Annual Boy Scout Week Program, the Museum Week Program, and the Spring Day Evening En- tertainment followed by a full-day carnival. The Spring Festival was a recreational as well as a financial success. The Chamber of Commerce of Berkeley held a meeting in honor of Capt. Gulliver and men of the U. S. Frigate Constitution. All the student body presidents and vice-presidents of the four junior high schools and the senior high schools were invited. There has been cooperation among the student officers as well as with the student body, and the term has therefore been successful. The student body officers are Lester Ready (president), Hope Valentine (vice-presi- dent) , and Douglas Miller (secretary) . The high nine class officers are Max Thelen (president) , Sherman Lea (vice-president) , and Janice Graff ( sec- retary) . Lester Ready. Wilhiril Citizenship Clnli Social consciousness at Willard, which is the aim of the Citizenship Club, is already rapidly developing in a large number of our students. Seventy-six boys and girls attended the Citizenship Party this spring and received their Privilege Cards . These Privilege Cards are rewards for a term average of A in citizenship. The privileges granted are many and varied from studying out of doors in the sunshine to a free eighth period every day in the week. Citizenship Cards for superior citizenship for the term ending December, 1932, were awarded on February 9, 1933. The following stu- dents received First Year Cards : Douglass Cayne, Dorothy Davis, Rich- ard Ellis, Billy Finley, Kathleen Fox, Elizabeth Glasson, Wilbur Hedquist, Jean Hyde, Ynez Johnston, Yukio Kawamoto, Helen Keyes, Sam Laidig, Mary Latimer, Dorothy Leary, James Leppard, Jean Porter, Rosemary Raybourne, Barbara Ransom, Richard Reed, Nancy Smith, Claire Snell, Morton Swarth, Annabel Wann, William Wann, Lincoln Werum, Janice Wickline, Constance Williams, Myrl Wilson. Second Year Cards — First Semester were granted to Loring Barker, Helen Barry, Charlotte Blake, Lois Bradshaw, Mary Dent, Emegene Ehorn, Fillmore Eisenmayer, Audrey Evernden, Robert Foster, June Fris- bie, Sumaye Harano, Gladys Hirsch, Kimiye Kawakami, Davida Larson, Gilman Leist, Norma Lindstrom, Barbara Mel, Elizabeth Newman, Kath- erine Nims, Janice Pearsall, Charles Rappold, Anne Rowell, Richard Scott, Dorothy Smith, Maryeve Spicer, Muriel Stevens, Marion Torpen, Arlene Vincent. Second Year Cards — Second Semester were awarded to Jean Barker, Natalie Becker, Gurney Breckenfeld, Elizabeth Burns, Mary Ann Del- more, Haidee De Witt, Nancy De Witt, Emaleen Gordon, Jeanne Hays, Yoshi Hibino, Alice Keehner, Mary Kobayashi, Shirley Larson, Violet Laudel, Fay Linville, Maxine Phillips, Narcisa Rhodes, Margery Skaife, Marion Smith, Virginia Waldo. Success If a man will work and earn success And overcome his laziness, He ' ll find that his great happiness Is to achieve. If man won ' t work, he ' s bound to fall For without toil behind it all Chance for success will be too small, And he will grieve. The m oral of this tale you see Is work, u ' ork hard and steadily. The fine results you ' ll find will be Hard to believe. Haidee De Witt. Scholarship Honors Jt is with the greatest of pleasure that the Target announces the names of the students of Willard who by their earnest and enthusiastic efforts have gained scholarship honors. In the graduation class of December, 1932, gold Ws, which are Willard ' s rewards for the highest scholarship attain- ments, were awarded to Ralph Jones, Eleanor Massie, Doras Moreton, Ada Nutting, and Marjorie Rosenthal. At the same time Alice D. Davis, Elizabeth Davis, Florence Derickson, Nancy Lee Buff, Estha Kaleschke, and Lucille Klein received Honorable Mention. For the first report period of this semester the following names were on the Honor Roll as a result of their outstanding scholarship accomplish- ments: LOW SEVENTH GRADE — Doris Amsbaugh, Robert Anderson, Ronada Bailey, Jane Anne Baker, Dorothy Beeskow, Dorothy Blosser, Guy Bradshaw, Barbara Bush, Janice Cardwell, Helen Challoner, Margaret Challoner, Betty Jane Chubb, Dorothy Dick, Margaret Doane, Betty Downs, Betty Evans, Jim Fowle, Barbara Germain, Jack Gill, Barbara Gingg, Marthel Greves, Virginia Hacker, Eugenie Hannon, Georgeanna Hays, Yukio Hibino, Gene Hoggatt, Margaret Hole, Fred Honsinger, Kathryn Kieffer, Junior Logan, Katharine Lyon, Louise Mackie, Dell Martin, Eldridge Maulsby, Russell Messner, Leonard Meyer, Bill Miller, Sue Miller, Bethene Moreton, Janice Morgan, Patricia Naess, Nina Ortleib, Akiko Ota, Kay Pearce, Bob Randall, Ralph Ready, Elizabeth Richards, Sue Richardson, Alfred Schmidt, Sylvia Scott, Bob Stoner, Bob Trolson, Roger Willis, Donald Wrinkle. HIGH SEVENTH GRADE — Geneva Bartlett, George Becker, Shirley Becker, Evelyn Bergen, Lauan Boynton, Almeda Brown, Paula Bruen, Lois Bugbee, Lelia Cayne, Milton Chamblin, Barbara Cochrane, Marjorie Cox, Adele de Fremery, Murray Dickie, Vera Dingledine, Norma Dotters, George Dyke, Martha Eaton, Mary Fulmer, Elizabeth Glasson, Phyllis Gwin, Felicie Hammons, Tomiko Harano, Nobuko Higashi, Jane Hoggatt, Edgar Hughes, Armstrong Hunter, Robert Jones, Bob Kerley, Lois Kruschke, Lorraine Landreth, Elsie Latimer, Katherine Latimer, James Leppard, Budd Lindsay, Alexander Ling, Ruth Martin, Marjorie McClellan, Margaret Meads, Virginia Miller, Marjorie Moore, Phyllis Morehouse, Robert Morris, Helen Murphy, Billy Noel, Helen Oatman, George O ' Connor, Billy Pomeroy, Rosemary Raybourne, Dorothy Robinson, Mary Russell, Florence Shea, Nancy Ann Smith, Rowena Smith, Bob Sproul, Morton Swarth, Alma Tregoning, William Wann, Margaret Wright, Betty Wylie. LOW EIGHTH GRADE — Shirley Ames, Alexander Anderson, Charlotte Blake, Lois Bradshaw, Jean Brown, John Campbell, Molly Davies, Katherine de Fremery, Fillmore Eisenmayer, Nancie Ferrier, Billy Finley, Alice Forkum, Robert Foster, Douglas Gould, Laverne Harbaugh, Sherman Hay, Billy Herrod, Ruth Higgin- botham, Robert Hink, Gladys Hirsch, Betty Hyde, Verna Johnson, Leonard Key, Davida Larson, Norma Lindstrom, Tom McLaren, Barbara Mel, Anne Morgan, Katherine Nims, Janice Pearsall, Robert Perkins, Charles Rappold, Dick Reed, Anne Rowell, Harvey Short, Bill Simpson, Margaret Spicer, Eugene Steinman, Hugh Steven, John Can Heerden, Jimmie Van Slyke, Doreta White, Myrl Wilson, Betty Winder. HIGH EIGHTH GRADE — Ray Altman, Mary Marjorie Beal, Betty Berryhill, Cornelia Bingham, Edward Brewer, Charles Brown, Herbert Bull, Happy Coyle, Mary Delmore, Anne Duhring, Emegene Ehorn, Charles Evans, Audrey Evernden, Marian Fisher, Kathleen Fox, June Frisbie, Janice Gardner, Eileen Garling- house, Frank Gray, Steve Harding, Alice Keehner, Cleo Kingsley, Mary Kobayashi, Dorothy Lansing, Violet Laudel, Jean Liddicoat, Florence Makower, Ruth McGlauflin, Arthur Mcintosh, Rosemary Mcintosh, Eleanor McKeighan, Mary McPeak, Madeline Meyer, Douglas Miller, Fumie Nomura, Dan Paulsen, Maxine Phillips, Wesley Plunkett, Jean Porter, Joe Ralston, Harry Regina, James Ruff, Leila Rutland, Virginia Saam, Tom Sagimori, John Scott, Glen Slaughter, Lowell Smith, Claire Snell, Rowena Stetson, Annabel Stevenson, Charles Tyler, Justin Vanderlaan, Richard Webb, Jack Westlake, Gregory Whipple, Janice Wickline. LOW NINTH GRADE — Marjorie Barker, Helen Barry, Nancy Boyd, Gurney Breckenfeld, Elsa Brehme, Gertrude Davis, Lucile Davis, Mary Dent, Jean Fleeson, George French, Aileen Gilkey, Patricia Grady, Margaret Hall, Sumaye Harano, Jeanne Hays, Yoshi Hibino, Ynez Johnston, Eirwen Jones, Margaret Jones, Kimiye Kawakami, Gilman Leist, Zoya Leporsky, Leslie Lockwood, Paula Mackay-Cantell, Dick Maulsby, Beatrice Maxwell, Elinor Nevin, Elizabeth Newman, Victor Relich, Betsy Saph, Ernest Smiley, Norman Spitzer, Tom Tanabe, Mary-Lou Upton, Edward Valentine, Virginia Waldo, Constance Williams. HIGH NINTH GRADE— Bill Andrews, Ruth Angell, Jean Barker, Loring Barker, Edward Barry, Natalie Becker, Charles Bell, Helen Betaque, Jerry Brashear, Elizabeth Burns, Mary Carey, Douglass Cayne, Fern Cook, Beverly Cooper, Dolores Davis, Dorothy Davis, Jeannette Davis, Dorothy Dill, Dick Ellis, Billie Ennis, Dorothy Ernst, Hugh Ferrier, Rachel Forbes, William Gaddis, Jack Gegan, Emaleen Gordon, Janice Graff, Virginia Haddock, Betty Hansen, Kioshi Hikoyeda, Lois Jones, Helen Keyes, Sam Laidig, Shirley Larson, Mary Latimer, Sherman Lea, Charlotte Logan, Jeannette Mackie, Phyllis Mahon, Theresa Maioline, Aileen Minassian, Stewart Mulford, Margaret Oatman, Alida Oldenbourg, Imogene Price, Narcisa Rhodes, Richard Scott, Patty Shinn, Margery Skaife, Dorothy Smith, Marion Smith, Ben Snyder, Beverly Starr, Marguerite Stutt, Claire Thatcher, Max Thelen, Betty Ann Thomas, Marion Torpen, Barbara Watkins, Robert Wattron, Clara May Weston, Baldwin Woods, Robert Wright. For the second report period of this semester the Honor Roll con- tained the following names: LOW SEVENTH GRADE— Peter Allen, Doris Amsbaugh, Ronada Bailey, Dorothy Beeskow, Dorothy Blosser, Guy Bradshaw, Barbara Bush, Janice Cardwell, Helen Challoner, Margaret Challoner, Betty Jane Chubb, Virginia Cripps, Dorothy Dick, Margaret Doane, Betty Downs, Betty Eames, John Fairchild, Jim Fowle, Jeanne French, Barbara Germain, Jack Gill, Barbara Gingg, Marthel Greves, Virginia Hacker, Eugenie Hannon, Yukio Hibino, Gene Hoggatt, Margaret Hole, Fred Honsinger, Eddie Howe, Peggy Irwin, Kathryn Kieffer, Junior Logan, Katharine Lyon, Louise Mackie, Eldridge Maulsby, Barbara McCloud, Leonard Meyer, Bill Miller, Sue Miller, Bethune Moreton, Janice Morgan, Patricia Naess, Nina Ortlieb, Akiko Ota, Dick Pedder, Bob Randall, Ralph Ready, Elizabeth Richards, Alfred Schmidt, Sylvia Scott, Barbara Stone, Bob Stoner, Gladysmae Swantner, Lucille Van Heerden, Betty Wallace, Patsy Whitby, Roger Willis, Donald Wrinkle. HIGH SEVENTH GRADE — Geneva Bartlett, George Becker, Shirley Becker, Laddie Bent, Evelyn Bergen, Lauan Boynton, Almeda Brown, Betty Brown, George Brown, Paula Bruen, Lois Bugbee, June Callahan, Lelia Cayne, Barbara Cochrane, Marjorie Cox, Adele de Fremery, Murray Dickie, Vera Dingledine, Norma Dotters, Martha Eaton, Mary Fulmer, Elizabeth Glass on, Phyllis Gwin, Ann Hall, Felicie Hammons, Tomiko Harano, Nobuko Higashi, Jane Hoggatt, Edgar Hughes, Burke Hughson, Thelma Hume, Armstrong Hunter, Carl Johnson, Robert Jones, Edmund Keilty, Bob Kerley, Lois Kruschke, Elizabeth Lamson, Lorraine Landreth, Elsie Latimer, Katherine Latimer, James Leppard, Alexander Ling, Ruth Martin, Marjorie McClellan, George McDonald, Margaret Meads, Stephen Miller, Virginia Miller, Marjorie Moore, Phyllis Morehouse, Helen Murphy, Helen Oatman, George O ' Connor, George Peatygrove, Billy Pomeroy, Rosemary Raybourne, Dorothy Robinson, George Rugg, Mary Russell, Donald Scott, Florence Shea, Evelyn Slusser, Nancy Ann Smith, Rowena Smith, Oscar Soder, Stanley Soule, Bob Sprcul, Morton Swarth, Alma Tregoning, Annabel Wann, William Wann, Evelyn Winder, Margaret Wright. LOW EIGHTH GRADE— Alexander Anderson, Shirley Ames, Natalie Beeson, Donald Black, Charlotte Blake, Lois Bradshaw, Jean Brown, Katherine de Fremery, Bill Dreusike, Fillmore Eisenmayer, Billy Finley, Alice Forkum, Robert Foster, Douglas Gould, Laverne Harbaugh, Sherman Hay, Billy Herrod, Ruth Higgin- botham, Robert Hink, Gladys Hirsch, Raymond Hirsch, Betty Hyde, Verna Johnson, Leonard Key, Raymond Kline, Davida Larson, Norma Lindstrom, Milton McGregor, Tom McLaren, Jimmie Mearns, Barbara Mel, Anne Morgan, Katherine Nims, Janice Pearsall, Robert Perkins, Dick Reed, Anne Rowell, Harvey Short, Bill Simpson, Maryeve Spicer, Eugene Steinman, Hugh Steven, Russell Terkildsen, John Van Heerden, Jimmie Van Slyke, Doreta White, Myrl Wilson, Betty Winder. HIGH SIGHTH GRADE — Elsie Airth, Constance Barker, Mary Marjorie Beal, Betty Berryhill, Cornelia Bingham, Edward Brewer, Charles Brown, Herbert Bull, Winifred Coryell, Happy Coyle, Mary Delmore, Anne Duhring, Charles Evans, Audrey Evernden, Marian Fisher, Kathleen Fox, June Frisbie, Janice Gardner, Richard Graves, Margaret Heaslett, Yukio Kawamoto, Alice Keehner, Mary Kobayashi, Violet Laudel, Jean Liddicoat, Fay Linville, Reva Jean Logan, Florence Makower, Ruth McGlauflin, Arthur Mcintosh, Rosemary Mcintosh, Eleanor McKeighan, Mary McPeak, Madeline Meyer, Douglas Miller, Fumie Nomura, Dan Paulsen, Maxine Phillips, Jean Porter, Joe Ralston, Lelia Rutland, Virginia Saam, Tom Sagimori, Bill Shuey, Glen Slaughter, Lowell Smith, Claire Snell, Patsy Stava, Rowena Stetson, Annabel Stevenson, Grace Tufts, Charles Tyler, Richard Webb, Jack Westlake, Gregory Whipple, Janice Wickline, Joan Witham. LOW NINTH GRADE — Marjorie Barker, Helen Barry, Nancy Boyd, Gurney Breckenfeld, Raymond Bronson, Gertrude Davis, Lucile Davis, Mary Dent, Jean Fleeson, George French, Aileen Gilkey, Patricia Grady, Charlotte Gray, Margaret Hall, Jeanne Hays, Yoshi Hibino, Robert Howell, Ynez Johnston, Margaret Jones, Margaret King, Gloria Leeds, Gilman Leist, Zoya Leporsky, Lupe Llausas, Leslie Lockwood, Paula Mackay-Cantell, Marie Maher, Dick Maulsby, Beatrice Maxwell, Janice Miller, Elinor Nevin, Elizabeth Newman, Victor Relich, Betsy Saph, George Seelig, Richard Sutcliffe, Harold Swantner, Tom Tanabe, Mary- Lou Upton, Edward Valentine, Virginia Waldo. HIGH NINTH GRADE — Bill Andrews, Ruth Angell, Jean Barker, Loring Barker, Edward Barry, Natalie Becker, Charles Bell, Gloria Bond, Elizabeth Burns, Mary Carey, Douglass Cayne, Cameron Cobb, Dolores Davis, Dorothy Davis, Jeannette Davis, Dick Ellis, Billie Ennis, Dorothy Ernst, Edward Everts, Hugh Ferrier, Rachel Forbes, William Gaddis, Jack Gegan, Howell Gester, Emaleen Gordon, Janice Craff, Richard Grinnell, Virginia Haddock, Betty Hansen, Kujoshi Hikoyeda, Lois Jones, Helen Keyes, Sam Laidig, Shirley Larson, Mary Latimer, Sherman Lea, Charlotte Logan, Joe Machell, Jeannette Mackie, Phyllis Mahon, Edgar May, Stewart Mulford, Margaret Oatman, Alida Oldenbourg, Imogene Price, Harold Queen, Richard Scott, Margery Skaife, Dorothy Smith, Geraldine Smith, Marion Smith, Beverly Starr, Max Thelen, Betty Ann Thomas, Marion Torpen, Barbara Watkins, Lincoln Werum, Clara May Weston, Baldwin Woods, Robert Wright. The Willard Junior Traffic Squad Qne of Willard ' s most important civic organizations is the Junior Traffic Squad. The Junior Traffic Boys go on duty every school day. One group goes from 11:55 to 12:10 to take the children across Telegraph Avenue at lunch time in safety, and the other squad goes out from 12:40 to 1 : 00 to insure a safe crossing of the busy throroughfare in return. These boys take the place of policemen who would have to be on duty near the schools. For their services, they get a pass to the movies two or three times a week. The Junior Traffic Boys of Berkeley have a record of which they may be very proud. Since the first squad in Berkeley, which was organized by the pupils of the Franklin School nine years ago, there has not been a single child injured while they were on duty. In reviews and cup compe- tition Willard has won two stars and the cup once. The following students are on duty in Willard ' s Junior Traffic Squad : John Tietjen (senior sergeant), James Haldan (junior sergeant); Jack McDonough, Douglas Miller, Ralph Scott, George Stevens (corporals) ; Donald Black, Edward Brewer, Arch Brown, Carleton Cross, Jack Evelyn, Richard Graves, Steve Harding, John Van Heerdan, John Linville, Milton McGregor, Tom Sagimori, and Horace Schauer (officers) . John Tietjen. Boys ' Traffic Report HpHE Boys ' Traffic Commission is a group of boys in the ninth grade who try to keep the students in order when they go from one classroom to another. They are stationed at important points in the school building. The boys control the south half of the building. The main objectives of this group of officers are to stop talking or running on the stairs, shouting and whistling in the corridors, and riding bicycles within the school grounds. These efforts lessen accidents and disturbances. A meeting is held every other Monday after school in room twelve. Traffic problems are discussed and comments and suggestions given. This organization is doing good work, and it is the duty of each Willard student to promote the interests of our school by obeying traffic rules. The following boys are traffic officers: Richard Grinnell, Jack Heas- lett, Robert Allen, George Stevens, Robert Maxwell, Charles Vaughn, Paul Lucas, Paul Cole, Robert Mahon, Julio Totoro, Eual Sitton, Donald Scott, Jack Hackett, Robert Mac Dougall, Harold Fell, Charles Bell, Ellis Sprunger, Leonard Green, Viggo Kiosterud, Kampe Lewis, Howell Gester, Gurney Breckenfeld, Richard Nicols, Tom Tanabe, and Yoshi Hibino. Yoshi Hibino. Girls ' Traffic Report pHE purpose of the Traffic Commission is to direct passing in the corri- dors in a prompt and orderly way. All the posts are divided between the boys and the girls. Regular meetings of the girls are held every other Mon- day for the purpose of discussing the traffic problems of the two preceding weeks. The aim of the students should be to obey Willard ' s traffic rules. The aim of the officers is to enforce these rules. The girls who are serving as traffic officers this year are Jewel Baker, Barbara Berg, Elizabeth Burns, Nancy Boyd, Dawn Cochrane, Edith Dailey, Mary Anne Delmore, Dorothy Dill, Kathleen Fox, Marion Fuller, Janice Graff, Shirley Larson, Margaret Oatman, Maxine Phillips, Dorothy Smith, Marion Smith, Betty Ann Thomas, Virginia Tolen, Mary-Lou Upton, and Clara May Weston. Clara May Weston. The Model Airplane Club he Model Airplane Club of Willard School was started under the leadership of Mr. Dunkum. The first meeting was held on March 1 5 th. At the second meeting we voted on rules, and elected the officers, who are Charles Vaughn (president), Richard Grinnell (vice-president), George Carver (secretary), and Harold Queen (treasurer). The members are David Ayers, Donald Bockbrader, Sydney Dent, Edward Dexter, Bob Maxwell, Basil Pearce, Russell Teagarden, Foster Veirs, Bud Wilkins, Buxton Hallett, Bruce Hellier, Lowell Smith, Carlos Burgerin, James Brooke, and Charles Meyers. The club meets every Wednesday afternoon the eighth period in the gym. At the meetings a short business session is first held, after which the members fly their models. Richard Grinnell, Vice-president. Our Radio Club ' JpHE Radio Club has been in existence for a year. The meetings are held every Wednesday in the Manual Training Room with Mr. Baxter as sponsor. The most active members are David Shivell (president) , John Beck (vice-president), Norman Spitzer, Keith Gleason, George Hodgkins, Edward Cannon, Bill Dinwiddie, and Max Thelen. The object of the or- ganization is to make and keep radios in order. We do what we can on our projects at home with the equipment at hand. At the club we exchange ideas and make use of the tools in the shop that are necessary for the com- pletion of our work. David Shivell, President. Junior Red Cross Work J he Junior Red Cross is an international organization which has branches all over the world. This enables its members to correspond with the Junior Red Cross Organizations of other countries, thus fostering a spirit of international sympathy and understanding. In Berkeley, the Junior Red Cross holds its meetings at the Berkeley High School. A member from each Berkeley School is chosen to go to the monthly meetings throughout the regular school term. During this year we have all been very bus} ' doing what we could to combat the serious con- dition resulting from the depression. Each school has donated as much as it could to the Community Chest and the Junior Red Cross has done the same, Every month birthday cards are sent to the Livermore Hospital for all those who have birthdays during that month. On Lincoln ' s Birthday, favors that were made for the occasion by the different schools were sent there. For Washington ' s Birthday and Easter the same plan was carried out. nenever the season comes and the occasion arises our organization is ready to lessen the burden and brighten the hours of those in need of our service. Betty Ann Thomas — Willard Junior Red Cross Representative. The Willard Senior Poetry Club ' jpHE Willard Poelry Club has had a very successful semester. The members have thoroughly enjoyed it. The time is spent reading, writing, and discussing poetry — classical, modern, and our own. Sometimes games are played before the close of the meeting, rhyming , matching com- plets , poetic phrases , and association words . The club meets in room 24 at 12:30 on Wednesdays with Mrs. Shulgin as club sponsor. Several very interesting meetings have been held among which were a Valentine Party and a Program of Surprises on April 26 when each member contributed something in a way of a surprise from an original play to bouquets and dessert. The membership includes Edward Adams, Alary Louise Bennett, Nancy Boyd, Edward Brewer, Janice Cardwell, Warren Carr, Winifred Coryell, Happy Coyle, Gertrude Davis, Haidee De Witt, Nancy De Witt, Emegene Ehorn, Kathleen Fox, June Frisbie, Frances Gutzman, Ruth Higginbotham, Edith Kroll, Mary Kobayashi, Violet Laudel, Fay Lin- ville, John Linville, Reva Jean Logan, Margaret Mee, Maxine Phillips, Jean Porter, Mary June Schendel, Vivian Wehle, Winifred Weber, Janice Wickline. The officers are Violet Laudel (president) , Happy Coyle (vice-presi- dent), Janice Wickline (secretary), Kathleen Fox (librarian), Reva Jean Logan (assistant librarian) , Jean Porter (business manager) , Warren Carr (assistant business manager), Emegene Ehorn (editor in chief), Maxine Phillips (assistant editor in chief) . Janice Wickline, Secretary. Willsii ' ri ' s K|iriii | Festival illard ' s annual Spring Festival began on Thursday evening, April the sixth, with a musical comedy, entitled Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves artistically presented by the senior glee clubs. The fete continued the next day with various shifts of scene and rose to its most brilliant and colorful heights in a costume parade followed by a dance at which all the traditional pageantry of Spring Day held sway. Although primarily a day of fun-making, this annual event represented the concerted action of students, faculty, and parents to raise money for the library and general fund of the school. A feature of the affair was the luncheon and sale of home-cooked deli- cacies, under the general direction of Mrs. A. A. Lowe, president of the Parent-Teachers ' Association, and Mrs. Mabel Miller, luncheon chairman, assisted by a committee of mothers and teachers. The program of Thursday evening consisted of the following numbers: White Queen Overture (O ' Metra) by the Willard Orchestra; Greetings of Willard Student Body by Lester Ready, president; Greetings of Willard P.-T.A. by Mrs. A. A. Lowe, president; Greetings of Willard Faculty by W. B. Clark, principal; Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves (a musical comedy in two acts) by Willard Senior Glee Clubs with Directors ' Choice March (Liddicoat) by the Willard Orchestra, also two numbers by the Willard Junior Glee Club, A Brown Bird Singing (Wood) and Gypsy Love Song (Herbert), as musical features during the intermission be- tween acts. The Salute to the Flag and The Star Spangled Banner by the orchestra, entire cast, and audience concluded the evening program. The cast of characters included the following students: Narrator, Janice Graff Shemseddin (captain of a band of robbers), Joe Machell; Abdullah (first robber) , Richard Sutcliffe; second robber, Charles Tyler; third robber, Basil Pearce, Mrs. Cassim (sister-in-law of Ali Baba) , Betty Berryhill; Abdul Hassan (foster son of Cassim) , Edward Adams; Cassim (brother of Ali Baba) , John Arbios; Morgiana (slave of Cassim) , Imogene Price; Muspapha (son of Ali Baba), Viggo Kiosterud; Ali Baba, Gordon Jones; Fatima (daughter of Ali Baba) , Patsy Stava; Mrs. Ali Baba, Mar- garet Hall; Prince of Ispahan, Frank Gray; first guard, Steve Harding; second guard, James Wilson; advisor, Frederick Archambaugh; Zobeide (a slave) , Betty Weed; other slaves, Aileen Minassian, Esther Finn, Janice Miller, Marion Fuller; the prologue, Jane McCallum, Anne Duhring, Vir- ginia Haddock, Sally Creek, Dorothy Lansing, Gertrude Withers, Mary June Schendel, Grace Tufts, Patsy Wiskocil; the robbers, Edward Adams, John Arbios, Frederick Archambaugh, James Baker, Charles Bell, Louis Bennett, Donald Bockbrader, Joe Bowman, Craig Combs, Frank Gray, Steve Harding, Gordon Jones, Viggo Kiosterud, Paul Lucas, Joe Machell, Basil Pearce, Charles Rice, Emmett Rogers, Dick Schmidt, Robert Shafer, Ernest Smiley, Richard Sutcliffe, James Wilson, Charles Wood, Bruce Hillier; dowry bearers, Mary Templeton, Elinor Nevin, Mary Sutherland, Jean Porter, Arlene Vincent, Mary Carey, Dorothy Leary, Helen Hon- singer, Betty Graham, Charlotte Laity, Kathleen Fox, Leslie Lockwood, Beverly Cooper, Elsa Schedler; attendants, Annabelle Bassett, Mary Marjorie Beal, Cornelia Bingham, Betsy Blanckenburg, Marian Bushner, Happy Coyle, Betty Caldecott, Margaret Cowling, Mary Anne Delmore, Doris Dunlap, Janet Hartzell, Eva Huls, Eirwen Jones, Betty Lasher, Lupe Llausas, Mary McPeak, Lelia Rutland. Helen Schmidt, Mary Stevens, Bettv Taylor, Barbara Lee Thomas, Betty Ann Thomas. Virginia Tolen, Viola Wilson, Claire Snell; solo dancer, Emaleen Gordon; ballet I. Doreta AX ' hite, Zoya Leporsky, Rowena Stetson, Xarcisa Rhodes, Hope Valentine; ballet II, Audrey Belmain, Margery Skaife, Virginia Saam, Yvonne Bonniwell, Claire Thatcher; accompanists, Beatrice Maxwell, Erma Welborn, Betty Vance; electricians, Jack Smith, Julio Totoro, Victor Savage, Ted Rathbun. The festivities on Friday morning began with an open air band con- cert. This was followed by a repetition of Thursday ' s program, luncheon, a costume parade, awarding of prizes, and a dance. Prizes of boxes of candy and merit badges were awarded to Division I (Seventh Grade) : ist individual prize, Nancy Ann Smith — April Show- ers; and individual prize, Eugenie Hannon — Little Bo Peep; ist group prize, Florence Shea and Margaret Wright — Little Red Riding Hood and Grandmother; and group prize, George Gill and Bob Anderson — Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. Badges for honorable mention were awarded to John Shepherd, Sue Miller, Marthel Greves, William Wann, Bob Edwards, Elizabeth Glasson, Rosemary Raybourne, Paula Bruen, Barbara Cochrane, Barry Phillips, Tomiko Harano, Martha Eaton, Doro- thy Dick, Mary Fulmer, Margaret Meads, Felicie Hammons, Patricia Xaess, Ruth Martin, Virginia Miller, Lois Bugbee. In Division II (Eighth Grade) the results follow: a tie for ist individual prize, Fillmore Eisen- mayer — Empress Eugenie and Alex Anderson — Mechanical Man; and individual prize. Davida Jane Larson — Spanish Flower Girl; ist group prize, Milton McGregor, Billy Olson. Sherman Hay — Old Man Depression and Hospital Attendants; and group prize, Carleton Cross and Charles Rappold — Prosperity. Badges for honorable mention were awarded to Bill Simpson. Winifred Coryell. Arch Brown. Norma Lindstrom, Jack McDonough, Lois Bradshaw, Hugh Steven, Richard Hirschkind, Anne Morgan, Eleanore Clark, Charles Evans, Rosemary Mcintosh, Billy Finley and Russell Terkildsen, Mary Marjorie Beal and Jane McCloskey, Marion Fisher and Blanche Brizard. For Division III (Ninth Grade) the awards were as follows: ist individual prize, Betty MacQuarrie — Suitcase Simp- son; 2nd individual prize — Bill Rawn — Prospector; ist group prize, Charles Rice and John Wilson — Robot and Announcer; 2nd group prize, Happy Coyle and Narcisa Rhodes — The Porcelain Twins. Badges for hon- orable mention were awarded to Stewart Mulford, Fernando Montijo, Jeannette Mackie, Beverly Starr. Fern Cook, Betty Hansen, Dorothy Davis, Bill Gaddis, Dorothy Smith, Charlotte Logan. Dick Ellis, Patricia Grady, Wayne Lashway. The committee of judges was composed of groups of mothers, patrons, and teachers, and included Mrs. Greves, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Mackie, Mr. Mills, Dr. Houser, Mr. Fulmer, Mr. Hays, Miss Barrows, Miss Allen, and Miss Farwell. In spite of present economic conditions, hundreds of students, teachers, and friends participated, making Spring Day of 1933 one of the gayest festivals Willard has ever known. Financially, the affair was very successful, the complete statement being as follows: Receipts Receipts $356.88 Contributions $ 93.39 Disbursements 153.44 Luncheon and food sale 159.49 Ali Baba 78.00 Net Balance $203.44 Dance . . 26.00 Total -$3 6.88 The proceeds of the luncheon and food sale have been added to the library fund, the rest to the general fund of the school. W illard spirit manifested itself during these trying times perhaps more strongly than ever before, and Willard wishes to express to all who con- tributed to the success of the occasion, deep appreciation of their loyalty and support. Spring ' Tis spring, ' tis spring, ' tis spring at last! The winter cold and rain are past. The bluebirds in the peach-tree sing Their hearts away in praise of spring. The robin digs the lawn for worms, The blackbird to his nest returns, The roses bloom amid the thorns, And God the world with joy adorns. Ah, spring! that season of the year When all the world is full of cheer, It will not last always I fear, So let ' s be joybul while it ' s here. Hugh Terrier. Soaring Sea Qulls Their days are spent in the sea and foam. The blue of the heavens and sea is their home. With wings scarce moving they float by twos hike painted birds on a panel of blue. High in the sky with the clouds they are merged Then all of a sudden they feel the sea ' s urge. Winging their xvay to their watery home They play with the waves and ride in the foam. Virginia Waldo. TARGET STAFF Editor Virginia Saam Manager Phyllis Mahon Associate Editors .... Dick Ellis, Janice Miller, Hugh Ferrier, Mary Carey, Aileen Minassian Assistants: Bill Andrews, Marjorie Barker, Helen Barry, Natalie Becker, Barbara Berg, Gloria Bond, Nancy Boyd, Elizabeth Burns, Dawn Cochrane, Margaret Cowling, Dorothy Ernst, Howell Gester, Patricia Grady, Janice Graff, Janet Hartzell, Bob Howell, Ynez Johnston, Mary Latimer, Zoya Leporsky, Leslie Lockwood, Imogene Price, Lester Ready, Bill Shuey, Patsy Stava, Grace Tufts, Richard Webb, Betty Weed. faculty advisors Mr. W. B. Clark . Principal Miss Christy Teacher The Target Staff deserves especial praise this term. They attended the meetings regularly and finished their work three weeks ahead of the sched- uled time. We regret that all the candidates did not win the coveted honor. We extend to them our thanks for their efforts and hope that they may be successful next semester. The cover and cuts, which add so much to the appeal of our paper, were done by students of the art classes under the supervision of Miss Strong. The posters which you have seen here and there about the building attracting your attention to the coming of the Target were generously provided by Miss Bolton ' s pupils. We appreciate the prompt response of the student body to our call for subscriptions. Yes, we thank one and all who have contributed in any way to the success of this issue. Willanl Eiliicntion Week I ' roijrcim ational Education Week was observed all over the United States from Monday, April 24th, through Friday, April 28th. Willard Junior High School celebrated it on Friday night by exhibiting the work of the students of our school. Clothing was displayed by the girls in the sewing room. The boys showed both their mechanical drawing in the drawing room and their electric, tin, and woodwork in the shop. The art work was attractively arranged in the art rooms. The Willard Orchestra played in the library. Pictures of the physical education activities, the library, and classes at work were seen in the assembly hall. Members of the science classes conducted visitors through the museum, where Indian relics, rocks, shells, insects, snakes, and many other things collected by the Willard students were exhibited. The Airplane Club flew model air- planes in the gymnasium. The parents were very enthusiastic about the work done at our school. Let ' s keep it up. Dick Ellis. The Famous Frigate O ' er oceans ' waters she has crossed With hopes of victory. By oceans ' wafers she was tossed While biiilding history. Spars were splintered, decks were broken, Masts were shaken, too. At times like that no word was spoken By the brave, calm crew. Stately and proud throughout the years She lasts to tell the story Of men ' s ambitions, hopes, and fears That breathe of naval glory. Baldwin Woods. Old Ironsides The ship that we do all adore Shall sail the raging seas no more. Her sails all furled upon her masts No longer catch the wind ' s cold blasts. Her cannon ' s roar now ' s never heard, Nor soar the bullets like a bird To land upon her rival ' s deck And tear and mould into a wreck. She ' s anchored now safe in our port That people may of every sort Come see this ship so brave and old, That sailed the seas and was so bold. Robert Wattron. The Junior Glee Club The Junior Glee Club meets on Tuesday and Thursday of each week with Mrs. Osgood as director. On March the twenty-second we sang the following numbers for the Mother ' s Club: Who Is Sylvia? by Schubert, I Passed by Your Window by Brake-Lucas, and The Gypsy Love Song by Victor Herbert. On Spring Day we sang A Brown Bird Sing- ing by Haydn Wood, and The Gypsy Love Song by Herbert. At the St. John ' s Vesper Service, May 14th, we presented Night by Beethoven, The Lord Is My Shepherd by Koschat, California Lullaby by Seiger, The Shell by Schubert, and But the Lord Is Mindful of His Own by Mendelssohn. The members of the Junior Glee Club are Margaret Doane, Eldrige Maulsby, Nobuko Higashi, Ralph Ready, Russell Messner, Russell Pearce, Marjorie Cox, Elizabeth Richards, Evelyn Winder, Felicie Hammons, Mar- garet Meads, George Pettygrove, Edna Templeton, Adele de Fremery, Barbara Knowles, Milton Chamblin, Martha Eaton, Phyllis Gwin, Phyllis Morehouse, Lois Bugbee, Elizabeth Glasson, Betty Kirkman, Katharine Lyon, Patsy Whitby, Robert Jones, Ruth Martin, Virginia Miller, Evelyn Slusser, Gladysmae Swantner, Margaret Hole, Kathryn Scott, James Fowle, Nancy Ann Smith. Tussy-uillo ws Pussy-willows stay in their tree, All the day and ngiht, And when the snow falls down on them They turn all snowy white. I wonder why the pussy-willows, In their coats of fur, Are as still as they can be, And never mew nor purr. Louise Mackie. Girls Glee Club course the outstanding work of this Girls ' Glee Club and the Boys ' Glee Club for this semester was the production of the operetta, Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves . There were solos, duets, quartettes, and much ensemble work as well. All members deserve much credit for making the operetta a splendid success. The girls took part in a radio program which was broadcast May twentieth. The following program was given: South- ern Moon by Lily Strickland, Voices of Spring (a Creole folk song), Hark, Hark the Lark by Schubert, and De San ' Man ' s Song by Mc- Kinney. The officers are president, Elsa Schedler; vice-president, Janice Miller; secretary, Janice Graff; courtesy committee, Hope Valentine, Beatrice Maxwell, Eleanor Nevin; music committee, Narcisa Rhodes, Beverly Cooper, Betty Berryhill; accompanists, Beatrice Maxwell and Claire Thatcher. The members are Suzanne Agnew, Annabelle Bassett, Mary Blankenburg, Marian Bushner, Yvonne Bonniwell, Mary Carey, Sally Cheek, Beverly Cooper, Happy Coyle, Betty Caldecott, Margaret Cowling, Mary Anne Delmore, Doris Dunlap, Anne Duhring, Esther Finn, Kathleen Fox, Marion Fuller, Betty Graham, Janice Graff, Virginia Haddock, Mar- garet Hall, Helen Honsinger, Janet Hartzell, Eva Huls, Eirwen Jones, Dorothy Lansing, Charlotte Laity, Betty Lasher, Lupe Llausas, Zoya Le- porsky, Leslie Lockwood, Jane McCallum, Beatrice Maxwell, Mary Mc- Peak, Janice Miller, Aileen Minassian, Eleanor Nevin, Jean Porter, Imogene Price, Narcisa Rhodes, Lelia Rutland, Mary Sutherland, Virginia Saam, Elsa Schedler, Mary June Schendel, Helen Schmidt, Margery Skaife, Claire Snell, Patsy Stava, Rowena Stetson, Mary Stevens, Betty Taylor, Mary Templeton, Claire Thatcher, Barbara Lee Thomas, Betty Ann Thomas, Virginia Tolen, Grace Tufts, Hope Valentine, Ailene Vincent, Erma Wel- born, Doreta White, Viola Wilson, Gertrude Withers, Betty Weed, Patty Wiskocil. Janice Graff, Secretary. Boys ' Glee Club jpHE Boys ' Glee Club did much of its work for this semester on the ope- retta. The many boys ' roles offered a chance for good solo, duet, quar- tette, and ensemble singing as well as acting ability. Taken as a whole, the work of the Boys ' Glee Club did much to make the operetta a success,. Members of the club also gave a radio program which was heard on the sixteenth of May. The following numbers were sung: Friendship by Haesche, Music in the Air, (a college song), Massa Dear by Dvorak, Stars of the Summer Night by Woodbury, Vive La Compagne (a college song), Twinkling Stars Are Laughing Love by Ordway, and Brotherhood of Man by Auber. The officers of the Boys ' Glee Club are Gordon Jones, president; Joe Machell, vice-president; Louis Bennett, sec- retary; Frederick Archambaugh, Viggo Kiosterud, Basil Pearce, courtesy committee; Charles Tyler, Donald Bockbrader, Charles Bell, John Arbios, music committee. The members are Edward Adams, John Arbios, Fred- erick Archambaugh, James Baker, Charles Bell, Louis Bennett, Donald Bockbrader, Joe Bowman, Craig Combs, Frank Gray, Steve Harding, Gordon Jones, Viggo Kiosterud, Paul Lucas, Joe Machell, Basil Pearce, Charles Rice, Emmett Rogers, Dick Schmidt, Robert Schafer, Ernest Smiley, Richard Sutcliffe, Charles Tyler, Gregory Whipple, James Wilson, Charles Wood, Charles Evans, Gurney Breckenfeld, Russell Teagarden, Edward Brewer. Louis Bennett, Secretary The Piano Club pHE Willard Piano Club has been meeting on the second and fourth Fridays of each month. The membership consists of the following: Ro- nada Bailey, Robert Bower, Marian Bushner, Milton Chamblin, Edith Dailey, Gertrude Davis, Esther Finn, Harry Haveside, Nobuko Higashi, Alice Keehner, Barbara Mel, Barbara Knowles, Edith Kroll, Davida Jane Larson, James Leppard, Jean Liddicoat, Aileen Minassian, Geraldine Nat- tress, Chester Phillips, Maxine Phillips, Dorothy Robison, Joy Rodifer, Florence Shea, Arlene Vincent, Myrl Wilson, Gladysmae Swantner, Marion Torpen, Mary Russell, Margaret Wright, Kathryn Scott, Eugenie Hannon, Helen Oatman, Violet Nutting, Patricia Naess, Virginia Hacker, Evelyn Winder, Lois Bugbee, Jimmie Griffiths, Nancy De Witt, Erma Welborn, Dawn Cochrane, Thelma Hume, and Rosemary Raybourne. The officers for the spring term are president, Aileen Minassian; vice- president, Milton Chamblin; secretary, Maxine Phillips. The program committee consists of Dawn Cochrane (chairman) , Barbara Mel, and Jimmie Griffiths. At the first meeting, January 13 th, after the election of officers, the following selections were played: Anitra ' s Dance (Grieg) and Etude (Wallenhaupt) by Milton Chamblin and Tarentella (Hel- ler) by Barbara Mel. At the next meeting on January 27th the following program was given: Reverie (Brown) by Charles Phillips, The Cos- sacks (Rebe) and Tarantella (Heller) by Patricia Naess, The Minute Waltz (Chopin) by Geraldine Nattress, A May Morning (Heller) by Barbara Mel, Largo from World Symphony (Dvorak) by Harry Have- side, and Traumerei and Roma nce (Schumann) by Arlene Vincent. A Waltz by Violet Nutting, The Minute Waltz by Gladysmae Swantner, Mendelssohn ' s Venetian Boatman by Gertrude Davis, Baga- telle (Beethoven) by Barbara Mel, and Murmuring Zephyrs (Jensen) by Dawn Cochrane made up the program for February second. On February tenth, the program included Water Fairie (Jenkins) by Violet Nutting, The Spinning Song (Riche) by Gladysmae Swant- ner, The Second Waltz in A Flat (Durant) by Robert Bower, and Hungary (Roelling) by Alice Keehner. At this meeting we had a visitor, Mrs. Dyke, who played a delightful selection entitled Scarf Dance by Chaminade. The following numbers were contributed on April second: Moment Musical (Schubert) by Patricia Naess, Gypsy Rondo (Haydn) by Virginia Hacker, and Dream Song (Forman) by Nobuko Higashi. A visitor, Miss Dorothy Hacker, played The Goldolier by Nevin. The program of April 28 th included the first movement of the Sonata in C Major (Beethoven) by Edith Dailey, Frolic of the Winds (Cramme) by Harry Haveside, Gertrude ' s Dream Waltz (Beethoven) by Gladysmae Swantner, Dance of the Reed Flutes by Tschaikowsky, and Minueto (Schubert) by Arlene Vincent. The following selections were played on May 12th: Pizzicato (Delibes) by Mary Russell, Mazurka (Chopin) by Virginia Hacker, Christmas Piece (Mendelssohn) and Bagatelle (Beethoven) by Bar- bara Mel, Venetian Boat Song (Mendelssohn) by Nancy De Witt, and Rondina (Kreisler) by Myrl Wilson. The Piano Club concluded its term of most enjoyable programs on May 26th with these numbers: Blue Butterflies (Dore) by Dorothy Robinson, Scherzo (Schubert) by Gertrude Davis, Waltz (Chopin) by Alice Keehner, Two Larks (Lishisky ) by Erma Wellborn, and a duet played by Thelma Hume and Rosemary Raybourne called March Mili- taire by Schubert. Maxine Phillips, Secretary. The Willard Orchestra ' J ' his year the Willard Orchestra has responded to several calls for enter- tainment, and their programs, as usual, have given their audiences great pleasure. They have played for Spring Day, the Willard Public School Week Program, several assemblies in our own auditorium, at the first annual band and orchestra festival, sponsored by the East Bay High Schools and the University of California on May 27th in the Men ' s Gym- nasium at the University, and for the Graduation Exercises. Mr. Salisbury is the leader and the membership list includes Victor Relich, concert mas- ter; Richard Nichols, Byron Lowe, Charlotte Gray, Harold Johnson, Betsy Saph, Lloyd Minear, Marjorie Barker, Violet Laudel, Boris Bunje, Janice Morgan, Wesley Plunkett, Jack Hutchison, Betty Cox, Lincoln Werum, Kampe Lewis, Aileen Gilkey, Dolores Hailing, Constance Meilink, Alta Todd, Billie Ennis, Jane Klemgard, Albert Queen, Webb Arpin, Gladys Hirsch, Jane Raeish, Vivian Fluery, Alfred Schmidt, Sylvia Scott, Jack Nutting, violins; Ben Snyder, Jean Barker, Sherman Hay, Cornelia Bing- ham, Emaleen Gordon, Mary Bennett, Emegene Ehorn, Betty Johnson, Nancie Burgess, Helen Murphy, Margaret Boucher, Betty Jane Chubb, cellos; Margaret Phelps, Beverly Wann, Margaret King, string bass; Her- man Iventosch, bass drum; Louis Bennett, Jack Hurst, Billy Pomeroy, snare drum; Erma Wellborn, Rosemary Raybourne, Jane Hoggatt, piano; Audrey Cowan, Herbert Michael, Herbert Bull, Roger Willis, David Ayers, Douglas Gould, clarinets; Christine Snyder, David Shivell, Bob Foster, Frank Gray, cornets; Harold Queen, George Dyke, James Leppard, F horns; Charles Brown, Lowell Smith, trombones; Glenn Harter, bari- tone; Martha Cox, E-flat clarinet; Marjory Brockhurst, saxophone. Ben Snyder, Secretary. The Willard Band JThe Willard Junior High School Band has been doing excellent work under the direction of Mr. Salisbury. They have appeared on various programs, and they have always gained the hearty applause of an appreciative audience. On several occasions they have been on the student assembly programs. They also played for our Spring Day Festival, the Community Chest Luncheon, and concluded their term ' s work with a program for the American War Mothers. The members of the band are Christine Snyder, solo cornet; David Shivell, Bob Foster, Bob Wright, Frank Gray, Harry Regina, Harold Queen, Bob Randall, Henry Berriman, David Bowman, Robert Sproul, Roy Reece, cornets; Herbert Michael, solo clarinet; Audrey Cowan, Herbert Bull, Roger Willis, David Ayers, Douglas Gould, Laddie Bent, Bill Rawn, Donald Wrinkle, Jack Eldridge, Justin Vanderlaan, Robert Bower, Bertram Zalkind, Russell Pearce, Bob Seymour, George McDonald, Billy Noel, clarinets; Gilman Leist, Calvin Mathews, flutes; Martha Cox, E-flat clarinet; George Dyke, James Leppard, Eeddy Rosenkrantz, Wallace Hughling,F horns; Glenn Harter, Craig Gaffney, Alfred Schmidt, baritones; Charles Brown, solo trombone; Sher- man Lea, Bill Shuey, Lowell Smith, Frank Morris, Howard Coleston, Cedric Sheerer, Reggie Davis, trombones; Margaret King, Margaret Phelps, Beverly Wann, string basses; Herman Iventosch, bass drum; Louis Ben- nett, Jack Hurst, snare drums; Billy Pomeroy, cymbals; Donald Scott, souzaphone; Jim Johnson, Robert Lundholm, Wildred Hodgkin, Budd Lindsay, tubas; Douglas Ogilvie, Leonard Key, James Brooke, Billy An- drews, Marjorie Brockhurst, Herbert Brown, baritone saxophone. Expectations The world is full of so many things, And each day something new it brings, Perhaps a joy, perhaps a sorrow. You can ' t tell vjhat will come to-morrow. Katherine Lyon. Handball Allard students were scheduled for 297 interclass handball games un- der the supervision of Mr. Richardson. Competition was keen to win the signal honor of representing Willard against Burbank, Edison, and Garfield. Victor Savage defeated Edison, Burbank, and Garfield, making him school champion. Julio Totoro won from Edison and Burbank as did Verne Taylor. Among the girls Clara May Weston, Helen Barry, and Eliza- beth Newman earned their Block Ws. The list of players included Clara May Weston, Aileen Minassian, Nobuko Higashi for singles and Elizabeth Newman, Helen Barry for doubles. The boys ' squad included Victor Savage, Julio Totoro, Verne Taylor in singles and Kujoshi Hikoyeda, Richard Nichols in doubles. Tennis The tennis season this year was marked by heavy cold winds which slowed the games. The boys ' teams were very successful. Frank Russell defeated Edison and Garfield, and Paul Cole also won from Edison and Garfield. Hamilton Nicol and Bill Biggerstaff became school champions by defeating all three schools. Janet Hartzell was the outstanding tennis champion among the girls. She easily defeated Burbank, Edison, and Gar- field. We are sorry she is a high nine and this is her last opportunity to bring honor to Willard. Anne Morgan, a low eight, appeared on the horizon ot Willard sports as an outstanding athlete. She defeated Edison and Burbank and so won her Block W. The girls ' tennis squads included Janet Hartzell, Anne Morgan, and Betty Weed for singles and Tanice Graff, Elsa Schedler, Janice Miller, Dorothy Ernst for doubles with Grace Tufts and Claire Thatcher as sub- stitutes. The bovs ' squads listed Ben Snyder, Frank Russell, Paul Cole for singles with Baldwin Woods, Tom Ellis as substitutes and Hamilton Nicol, Bill Biggerstaff, Bill Doble, Ellis Sprunger for doubles with Bob Greig, Jerry Brashear, Ed Dexter, Jack Heaslett as substitutes. Junior High School Posture Tests In the last triple posture tests which were given in all grades of the junior high schools in the city, fifty sections were tested. Of these, 4 were 100%, 7 were between 90 and roo%, and 14 were between 80 and 90%. Half of the grades tested were below 80%. The results for the Willard girls were as follows 7-92%, L8-94%, H8-ioo r c, L9-ioo%, H9- 100% with a school average of 96%. For the boys the ratings follow: L7- 82%, H7-8o%, L8-95 %, H.8-96%, L9-97 0, H9-ioo r c with a school average of 93 %. BLOCK W WINNERS — BASKETBALL Basketball An even break all around for 9 5 -pound teams wound up the regular schedule for the season with Garfield leading with 1 5 victories and 7 defeats in total games for all four weight divisions. Edison finished second with 14 wins and 10 defeats, while Willard was third with 10 and 13, and Burbank last with 7 and 16. The 9 5 -pound Garfield girls clinched the series with a spotless record by defeating Willard, 26 to 10. Edison jumped into second place in the group by walloping Burbank, 29 to 2. The Burbank 9 5 -pound boys also completed a spotless record by nosing out Edison, 1 1 to 9. Willard ended as runner-up by outscoring Garfield, 13 to 9. Girls ' Basketball Teams 95-pound: Jane Raeish, Grace Tufts, Margaret Wright, Martha Thomas, Paula Bruen, Florence Shea, Barbara Berg, Nancy Ferrier, Lois Bugbee, June Frisbie, Betsy Blanckenburg, Betty Vance, Felicie Hammons. 105 pound: Anne Morgan, Tomiko Harano, Martha Cox, Charlotte Laity, Jeanne Hays, Ruth Martin, Virginia Waldo, Nobuko Higashi, La- verne Harbaugh, Betsy Saph, Hope Valentine, Kathryn Kieffer, Gloria Leeds, Elizabeth Newman, Helen Barry. 1 1 5 -pound: Betty Berryhill, Aileen Minassian, Sumaye Harano, Esther Finn, Claire Thatcher, Mary Templeton, Patsy Stava, Virginia Saam, Pa- tricia Grady, Edna Swenson, Cleo Kingsley, Mary Sutherland, Beverly Cooper. (greetings A century and a third ago People soon forgot her glory, The Constitution sailed And she was left to die To make a target of the foe, Till loyal children gave their money And her aim it never failed. That she again might sail on high. Fort Point, salute with giant gun, Swing tvide the Golden Gate, Rejoice, you children, ivho have won The fight to keep her from the Fates. Bill Doblc. BLOCK W WINNERS — BASKETBALL Unlimited and Block W winners: Janice Miller, Janice Graff, Janet Hartzell, Betty Weed, Alida Oldenbourg, Florence Cresap, Marion Fuller, Clara May Weston, Hazel Buckley, Sue Bruen, Rachel Forbes, Aileen Gilkey, Betty Mac Quarrie. Boy ' s Basketball Teams 9 5 -pound and Block W winners: Roy Cunningham, Yoshi Hibino, Yukio Hibino, Jack Hoag, Carl Johnson, Roy Reece, Tom Sagimori, Horace Schauer, Elbert Wells. 1 05 -pound and Block W winners: Reggie Davis, Charles Evans, Bob Grieg, Kiyoshi Hikoyeda, Jack Hurst, Art Mcintosh, Max Thelen, Jimmie Van Slyke. 115-pounds: Herbert Bull, Reginald Grady, Charles Knowles, John Linville, Joe Machell, Hugh Reed, Harry Regina, Cedric Sheerer, John Tietjen. Unlimited and Block W winners: Bill Biggerstaff, Ed Dexter, Jack Heaslett, Jim Johnson, Gordon Jones, Kenneth Jones, Sam Laidig, Bobbie Maxwell, Douglas Miller, Hamilton Nicol, Ben Snyder, Verne Taylor, Bud Wilkins. Playground Baseball The interclass baseball season was as usual tense and exciting. Two upsets marked the boys ' games when the high eights walloped a victory over the low eights, and the low sevens won from the high sevens. The high nines chalked up a winning score over the low nines and met the victorious high eights in a final decisive game, the high nines winning. The girls ' squad did equally well in their interclass games. They showed skill and appreciation of the fine points. The low eight girls, Anne Morgan ' s team, upset things generally when they defeated the high eights. The high sevens won from the low sevens. The high nines did not give the low nines a look in so they met the low eights in the final game. It was fast and furi- ous, the high nines winning. L7: Eugenie Hammon, Sue Miller, Jane Anne Baker, Wanda Green- wood, Dorothy Beeskow, Dorothy Blosser, Bethene Moreton, Barbara Ger- main, Kay Pearce. H7: Tomiko Harano, Barbara Cochrane, Nobuko Higashi, Virginia Miller, Paula Bruen, Barbara Scribner, Peggy Wright, Marjorie Cox, Jane Klemgard. L8: Laverne Harbaugh, Anne Morgan, Molly Davis, Myrl Wilson, Jane Erickson, Mary Davis, Nancy Ferrier, Betty Winder, Shirley Ames. H8: Betty Berryhill, Patsy Stava, Marion Fuller, Virginia Saam, Sue Bruen, Shirley Dill, Betsy Blanckenberg, Mary McPeak, Cleo Kingsley, Betty Taylor, Winfred Coryell, June Frisbie. L9: Sumaye Harano, Mary-Lou Upton, Hope Valentine, Marjorie Barker, Elizabeth Newman, Betty Cox, Janice Miller, Margaret Jones, Helen Barry, Virginia Waldo, Mary Dent, Dena Totoro, Elsa Brehme. H9: Clara May Weston, Florence Cresap, Janice Graff, Janet Hartzell, Natalie Becker, Marguerite Stutt, Claire Thatcher, Martha Cox, Betty Weed, Marjorie Cramer, Margaret Cowling, Elsa Schedler, Rachel Forbes, Dorothy Ernst. Girls Baseball Teams The Wind and the Clouds And watch the wind and clouds at play joyfully and with glee. I like to sit upon the hill Beneath the old oak tree Sometimes the clouds are lonely For the wind ' s not there to play. ' Tis gone to some far-distant place To have its fun that day. When the clouds are very unhappy And the wind has gone away, It sends its children, the breezes, To come and frolic and play. Patsy Whitby. Boys Baseball Teams L7: Jim Arbios, Clive Anger, Faxon Bishop, Billie Davis, Jack Eldridge, John Fairchild, Yukio Hibino, Gene Hoggatt, Bill Miller, Chester Phillips, Ralph Ready, Donald Wrinkle, Herbert Zastrow. H7: George Becker, Jon Boyes, Frank Buckley, Will Detwiler, Tom Ellis, Edgar Hughes, Armstrong Hunter, Carl Johnson, Harry Koplan, Herbert Michels, Robert Morris, Billy Pomeroy. L8: Stephen Brashear, Herbert Brown, Glenn Connors, Bill Dreusike, Jack Evelyn, Harvey Grange, Robert Hink, Frank Hoyt, Herman Iven- tosch, Bill Simpson, Edgar Stutt, Jimmie Van Slyke, Norman Weiss. H8 : Ray Altman, David Ayers, Donald Bockbrader, Herbert Bull, Carlos Burgerin, Charles Evans, Glenn Harter, Jim Johnson, Michael Jose, Yukio Kawamoto, Art Mcintosh, Douglas Miller, Dan Paulsen, Wes- ley Plunkett, Joe Ralston, Tom Sagimori, Horace Schauer, John Tietjen, Elbert Wells. L9: George Burge, Ed Cannon, Roy Cunningham, Yukio Hibino, Clarence Hirt, Charles Knowles, Wayne Lashway, Gilman Leist, Roy Reece, Ralph Scott, George Stevens, Tom Tanabe, Verne Taylor. H9: Bill Andrews, Bob Allen, Bill Biggerstaff, Jerry Brashear, Paul Cole, Ed Dexter, Bill Doble, Reginald Grady, Bob Greig, Jack Heaslett, Gordon Jones, Roy Lee, Bob Maxwell, Edgar May, Fernand Mackenzie, Hamilton Nicol, Hugh Reed, Ben Snyder, Max Thelen. The Ship in Distress Dark was the storm and the mist As the trembling ship struggled to exist. The sailors stood in fear and aghast, As they saw the tall, fast-falling mast. But, lo! and behold! they saw a light That took aivay all fear and fright. It was a lighthouse near yet far, That shone through the mist like a shining star, That guided them safely to the shore, For God was with them evermore. Tom Sagimori. Teacher — Why did Joshua command the sun to stand still? Frank Gray — I guess it didn ' t agree with his watch. A very decrepit old flivver Rode up to a bridge on a river Fifty cents! the gateman cried. Sold! Gordon Jones replied. It was Ernest Smiley ' s first visit to the country, and feeding the chickens fascinated him. Early one morning he caught a glimpse of the peacock sunning himself on the lawn. Rushing indoors excitedly, Ernest shouted, Oh say, one of my chickens is in bloom! Jack, asked the teacher, what was it Sir Walter Raleigh said when he placed his cloak on the muddy road for the beautiful queen to walk over? Jack Hoag gazed about the classroom in dismay, and then taking a long chance, replied, Step on it, kid. Sherman Lea — I ' ve had this car for years and never had a wreck. Clarence Page — You mean you ' ve had this wreck for years and never had a car. Herbert Michael — I ' ve eaten beef all my life, and now I ' m as strong as an ox. Douglas Miller — That ' s funny. I ' ve eaten fish all my life, and I can ' t swim a stroke. Richard Nichols — What ' s the best exercise for reducing? Diet specialist — Just move the head slowly from right to left when asked to have a second helping. Teacher — Will all the pupils who were talking rise? Hugh Ferrier — I cannot tell a lie. I did it with my own little tongue. Teacher — Class, what is a skeleton? Mathew Allen — I know. It ' s bones with the people rubbed off. Teacher (after class) — Ed, you don ' t seem well. Ed Dexter — Xo, I have just been unconscious for forty minutes. Teacher — Terrible! nat was wrong? Ed — Nothing — I was just asleep. Teacher — What is a mountain-range? Jack Smith — A mountain-range is a large cook-stove. Teacher — What is a circle? Keith Gleason — A circle is a round, straight line with a hole in the middle. Roy Reece — How come you ' re always looking for work and can never rind it? Emmett Rogers — That ' s skill, man, skill. Teacher — What is meant by ' Every cloud has a silver lining ' ? Bill Dinwiddie — That ' s when a fellow is so sick that he can ' t go to school. Teacher — What happened in 1483? Ben Snyder — Luther was born. Teacher — Correct! What happened in 1487? Ben Snyder (after a long pause) — Luther was four years old. Teacher — What product do we get from pigs? Edward Adams — Pig-iron. Teacher (to the girls in special gym) — Girls, did you hang yourselves yet 1 Teacher — What is the largest room in the world? Baldwin Woods — Room for improvement. In civics class — What is a petition? Raymond Altman — A petition is a part of a home. Arthur Gravatt — What is the best way to make sawdust? Teacher — Use your head, boy, use your head! Teacher — If you had just three days to see, I wonder what you would do with them. Phil De Vries — Look in the mirror. Tre-vue of the ' Big Top The circus will not need its giraffe, They ' re going to have our Bill Biggerstaff. Frank Russell thought he was a clown. But the circus ran him out of toivn. If a horse laugh you should happen to hear, Say, That ' s Bob Greig, and wipe a tear. Joe Machell will take the monkey ' s part As attracting attention with him is an art. Lester Ready, big and really quite funny, Gives the elephant a long run for his money. It will be some fun when you see Charles Rice Making his living training mice. Gloria Bond the midget will be for she barely stands to four-feet three, So small that you can hardly see if she ' s a person or a fairy. We all can vision our big Ben Snyder As a small and dainty bareback rider. Emaleen Gordon will give you a thrill. When she ' s walking the tight rope, your heart ivill stand still. Max Thelen, the barker, you ' ll hear far and near. His shouts they will rumble and quite split your ear. Bill Doble — I notice you are wearing your socks wrong side out. Frank Russell — Yes, my feet got warm, and I turned the hose on them. Teacher — Come up here and give me what you ' ve got in your mouth. Bill Rawn — I wish I could. It ' s a toothache. The brave man, wrote Stanley Soule, rode forward through a hail of bullets. Two horses were shot under him, and a third went through his hat. George Seelig — Are you the barber who cut my hair last time? Barber — No, sir, I ' ve been here only a little over a year. Traffic Cop — Say, you, get going! What ' s the matter with you? George Stevens — I ' m just fine, thank you, but I think my engine ' s dead. Teacher — What is steel wool? Bob Howell — I ' m not sure, but I think it is made from the fleece of hydraulic rams. Teacher — What do you mean by the Lower House of Congress? Harold Miramonte — The basement. Teacher — This gas is deadly poison. What steps would you take if it should escape? George Hodgkins — Long ones. Teacher — What is done to make milk pure and healthful? Hugh Reed — It ' s paralyzed. Jed Blake (to an electrician at the school) — What are you doing, mister? Electrician — Installing an electric switch. Jed — I don ' t care for our family is moving, and I won ' t be going to this school any more. Teacher — Sue, use ' acute ' in a sentence. Sue Richardson — I ' ve got a cute dress. Teacher — Will you give me Lincoln ' s ' Gettysburg Address ' ? Roy Cunningham — He didn ' t live there. Teacher (to talkative class) — Is this a social study course? Beverly Starr (in undertone) — No, it ' s a scramble for your neighbors ' brains. Teacher (in algebra class) — If you had ten potatoes and had to divide them among three people, what would you do? Douglass Cayne — Mash them. Teac her — What do you consider the greatest achievement of the Romans? Richard Scott — Learning Latin. Alarms Each morning at seven that cat of mine Crawls up the stairs with a long-drawn whine. He sits and howls in front of my door Till I shout at him with a giant ' s roar. There ' s only one difference ' tween that cat of mine And my wonderful clock with a waking chime. You can shut off the clock xvith the wonderful chime, But you can ' t shut off the cat with the long-drawn whine. Teacher — What was Columbus ' motto? Elizabeth Ann Richards — More miles to the galleon! Teacher (calling roll) — Betty Weed? Betty— Hello! Happy Coyle — I like oranges but they are too hard to undress. Teacher — What is an hypotheneuse? David Bowman — A hippopotamus is the slanting side of a right Jack Gill — Say, you can ' t fish with an apple. You have to have a John Fairchild — Well, what of it? The worm is in my apple. triangle. worm. Star Stories Stars are funny little things. They only show at night. I wonder if they ' re ruled by kings And queens in jewels bright. Perhaps they are not living things. Maybe they ' re only air. Now if we just could have some wings, We ' d take a peep tip there. Barbara Lee Thomas. As up and down the road I go And drive my stage through rain and snow, I meet the queerest sort of folks, Who somehow make life full of jokes. The funniest questions they will ask. To answer them is quite a task: How far is this place} What is that} Are ycni married} Do you like my hat} I may answer them right or often wrong. They expect me to sing the latest song. The football scores I sure must know And stock quotations high and low. One day a lady with wise-looking face Asked how those rocks came to be in that place. My dear, the glacier brought them here, I answered with a knowledge clear, But tvhere is the glacier now} she asked. I gasped! Was ignorance ever so cleverly masked} To answer her truthfully, I jokingly forbore. Dear madam, the glacier has gone back for more. Virginia Tolen. ST j4