Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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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.

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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

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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