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.

Last Modified September 19, 1997