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"Penny-Bicycle"
Rachel S. Flynn, 8th Grade, Saint Peter's Interparish School, Washington,
D.C.
Today was my tenth birthday and my parents bought me a brand-spanky-new
penny bicycle. It's a burgundy red with chrome spokes and handlebars. The
tires are pink rubber. The pedals are nicely greased, so I can go real fast.
I decided to show all my friends my penny-bicycle. Since it was Sunday I
knew they were at the park playing marbles, so I went inside to get my lucky
marble, "Bertha."
I headed down the street and decided to take the long way so I could
get to know my bicycle and test it out. I think I'm on "Cloud 9"
when the wind blows through my hair and I get goose bumps all over from
the wind blowing against me. I love my new bicycle because it lets me be
free and go where I want to go.
Soon, I got to the park where my friends were just finishing a round
of marbles. I joined them with my lucky marble, "Bertha," and
played until the rain started to come down and I headed home.
"The Telegraph"
Travelle Franklin-Ford, 8th Grade, Saint Peter's Interparish School,
Washington, D.C.
I love using the newly invented machine, the telegraph. It is very hard
to use because you must listen intently or find one of the few people who
know how to use it. They listen, and by that time you've missed half of
your message. Sometimes, you don't know exactly which letter of the alphabet
the people sending the message are trying to send because everyone doesn't
pause for the same amount of time. I think it's neat to tap the button,
but I may be sending a message I don't mean. Most of the time, there is
a long line to use the telegraph, and it takes some people a long time to
put their message through. Also, some people send pages at a time and it's
not fair for others who are on a deadline. I think there should be a limit
on how much anyone can send at once, and those people with a lot to send
should use the mail. I think it was a great invention, and I can tell my
cousin something urgent in Oklahoma when I live in Nebraska. This invention
may evolve into something else, but it has already had an impact on my life.
"Journal of George Washington"
Eacel Pogue, 8th Grade, Saint Peter's Interparish School, Washington,
D.C.
Dear Diary,
Bloody corpses, men in pain, and horrible screams and noises as the fierce
war goes on. These horrible things I have mentioned are the least I must
worry about. The land that once many animals roamed, blue sky as far as
the eye can see, and a feeling of safety have been interrupted by brutal
bloodshed and torture. To think I am the leader, the leader of the death--
Sometimes, I just don't think I can take it anymore, but with the help
of dear God, o Mighty Jesus, I think I can survive.
"Journal of Jack B. Taylor, devoted colonial"
Chris Russell and Eddie Johnston, 8th Grade, Saint Peter's Interparish
School, Washington, D.C.
Dear Diary,
I don't know whether it was the rats or my friend that woke me on that
long day. I got dressed in my ragged, torn clothes, and went to my place
on the deck immediately.
Though the cannon fire was loud, I recall hearing the captain say, "Look!
British off the port bow!"
I took a bit of cornbread and loaded my 9-powder. With a "BOOM!"
my cannon ball sailed off towards the horizon. I hit the mast of a Red Coat
ship, just making a dent.
The battle raged for about two hours, but in the end all the colonial
ships had been sunk. I guess it's up to George's boys to sink those Red
Coats, while we all freeze in this frigid water waiting for help.
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