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Page 43 text:
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, Class Prophecy
Nine hundred ninetyfnine sheep had already jumped over the fence, and as yet Mr.
Sandman had not paid me his accustomed nocturnal visit. I simply could not sleep. But
who could? It was the night before Commencement, and on the next day we would leave
our Alma Mater and go forth into the Wide, wide world to seek our fortunes. What paths
lay ahead of us? My thoughts were doing little jigs all over my brain.
Suddenly I saw a tiny, white light. Was it a silvery moonbeam stealing in to offer
me sympathy and consolation? No, for the light grew steadily brighter and, as I watched,
I heard a musical voice saying, "Good evening, Margaret. Perhaps I can help to solve the
problems which are now troubling you." I looked in the direction from which the voice
came, and there I saw the queerest little man swinging on the foot of my bed. He was clad
in black cap and gown and carried a diploma in his hand. But in place of a tassel hanging
from his cap there hung a tiny golden star which gave the light I had first seen. On his feet
were long shoes with the toes curling up.
When I had somewhat recovered from my surprise, I answered, "Good evening."
Immediately I began to feel that something most unusual was about to happen, and I was
delighted with the prospect.
With an encouraging smile, my quaint friend invited me to go along with him,
promising to show me something really interesting. In a jiffy I had donned kimona and
slippers and was walking at the side of my little guide. He really wasn't so very much
smaller than Ig for if he were, there would be no little man to invite me out.
We went down the long corridor and then up the front stairs, up, up. It was dark and
forbicldingflooking, and ordinarily it would have sent queer little shivers up and down my
spine. Tonight, however, I didn't notice the darkness because the little star shed a soft,
bright beam of light ahead. Before I knew it I was up in the dome. All around us were
the tiny windows at which I had often gazed from the campus far below. Looking at my guide
I saw that he was opening one of these little windows, and presently the vast expanse
of the heavens with its myriad stars was spread out before us. The little man now handed
me his diploma and told me to look through it at the stars, adding that perhaps I would see
enough to answer some of the many questions that were teasing me.
I took the diploma, which had somehow lengthened and taken on the appearance of
a telescope, and putting it to my eyes I gazed out at the starry vault above me. How
different everything was! The stars were not mere golden lamps, but on each moving
objects were visible.
As I gazed in wonder, the evening mail plane soared southward just above the dome.
In its wake was a cloud of smoke which soon drifted into letters forming the words, "The
Future." I then noticed seventeen particularly bright stars grouped in a circle around the
"Man in the Moon" who was smiling so broadly that his face seemed all mouth, and that
was of crescent shape. -
The Hrst star to claim my attention presented a scene of great excitement. Within it
I saw a great public hall filled with women who were apparently discussing some grave
question. In the chairwoman's place sat someone whom I seemed to recognize. She was
tall, neatly and plainly dressed, and Wore an expression of strong determination. Ah yes,
Page 42 text:
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Its Perfection, Decline, and Fall
During this period, from September, 1927, to June, 1928, our State reached the height
of its perfection. We shook ourselves free from the protection of any other State and stood
alone, "the mightiest of the mighty." However, the summit of our power having been
reached, there appeared a dark cloud gathering on our hitherto bright horizon. Those
States which, until now, we had deemed weak and incapable of selffsupport and dependent
on us for their very existence, had grown weary of our rule and, silently and stealthily,
they were beginning to rebel. We felt a crisis approaching and rejoiced that we had early
realized the need of strong and capable hands to guide our Ship of State. Who could be
more reliable than those who for the past years had been our leaders and who had helped
us safely through all storm and strife? At the beginning of the Senior period of our State's
existence, we had refelected these oflicers once again-our gentle, yet masterful President
and her three cabinet members, adding, this year, Miss Irene Dowling as Athletic Captain,
to be our leader in the warfare we knew to be inevitable. However, it may be seen that the
younger nations have been successful in many ways, and as we, when young, had risen to
power and prominence, so they, too, had become mighty. Weakened by the struggle of
four hard, yet profitable years, during which we had attacked and successfully conquered
many difficult "subjects," and our numbers reduced to seventeen, we must needs give way
to younger generations.
However, we fall not in shame or disgrace, but sink slowly and gently into insigniif
cance in a manner resembling that of the setting ofthe sun-in a blaze of glory, to rise again
and shine forth brilliantly upon some other world.
FGRACE M. CHRIST, '28
S is for the sighs we now are heaving,
E the end of all we held dear,
N is for the nights we'll spend in grieving,
l is for the interests we had here,
0 means oli, but we're sad and tearful!
R stands for regret at leaving now,
Put them all together they spell "Senior,"
A word we'll ne'er forget, somehow!
-GRACE M. CHRIST, '28
Page 44 text:
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no wonder she looked familiar! It was none other than our dear Class President, Eleanor
Hennessy, well known for her executive ability.
The star next to hers seemed very quiet. This was soon accounted for, however, for
there I saw Helen Oliva, Latin book in hand, at a desk in the front of a large classroom.
I realized that Helen's dream was to come true and that she was to be a Latin teacher.
The next little scene was in direct contrast to the previous one. This star was
spinning violently on one point and seemed enveloped in a cloud of smoke. Finally, it came
to rest, and through the drifting smoke I beheld Alice Decker. Around her lay a confusion
of bottles, beakers, test tubes, flasks, and glasses of various sorts and sizes. In her hands were
the tags of two bottles which by this time were in bottle heaven. The tags read "Tetranif
trotoluene" and "Tetranitroaniline." I realized that she had dared to attempt their
reaction to heat, and the wonder was that anything was left of Alice. I understood that
she was to be a famous chemist, that her schoolfday desire was to be fulhlled.
I looked eagerly at the neighboring star. It presented an oflice scene. There was a
desk with a card on which I read, "Miss Mary Farrell, Private Secretary." So my dearest
friend, through her quiet, diligent manner and attractive personality was to win fame in
the business world.
My! what a hubbub! Was it a battle? Sticks were being knocked about in all direc'
tions. Of course! Why had I failed to recognize it at once? It was a game of hockey. And
who was associated with hockey? No one but Loretta Trainor, to be sure. There she was
in her sport outfit, surrounded by her victorious team. Victorious as usual! Who could
defeat Letty at that game? Was it to be her vocation or her avocation? The star did not
answer me in words, but I surmised that physical culture was to claim her in its rank of
teachers, though she had always told us that she aspired to be an ordinary "schoolfma'am."
The next star held a large, wellffurnished library stacked with books. There at a desk
by a sunny window sat a young lady buried in a book and oblivious to all around her fit
seemed to be just past noon and patrons of the library apparently had not yet begun to
appearj. There was something strangely familiar in that slender figure at the desk. Ah,
yes, of course! How could I be so stupid. It was none other than May Peley, happy and
contented, for she was now a librarian as she had always wished to be.
Another beautiful building! What was it? Oh, the sign read, "Mademoiselle Grace
Christ's Fashionable School for Girls." Focusing my telescopefdiploma, I peeked in at a
large window. There stood dear Grace, surrounded by a group of darling children. Who
was better Btted to teach them, not only lessons of bookfknowledge but also of grace, of
kindness, and of love?
Again a hall! But oh, it looked familiar! It was our own H. A. gym. Hither and
thither in the midst of an exciting basketball game ran Irene Dowling, referee. I knew that
Irene had returned to her Alma Mater as gym teacher.
But there wasn't any star in the next place. Looking about I saw it balanced daintily
on the tip of the crescent moon. And there beneath it was Inez Cavinato, poised in the
curve of the moon, paintbrush in one hand and pallette in the other, working at her
masterpiece. She paused and drew back to scan her work. As pretty as the picture on her
canvas she looked, with her head tilted sideways and one slender arm swinging gracefully
down in the silvery light.
Right beside her sat Edith Haas, our own "Dedee," who between little spasms of
delight was deftly charcoaling Inez's profile on her paper. So she, too, was to follow an
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