Altavista High School - Nuntius Yearbook (Altavista, VA)

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e's : ' ay Proph ecy After wandering wearily through the dense forest for hours, and having given up all hope of finding the path I cyidently had lost, I heard a mysterious voice mumbling at my side. I turned to see who could be so near me, but net one soul did I spy. “It must be that my imagination is running wild,” I thought, and I continued to push my way through the thick bushes, still seeking to find the path that would lead me out of the terrible predicament I seemed to have gotten myself inte. “Turn to your left at the willow tree,” said the small mysterious voice still apparently at my side; and filled with awe and wonder at whose voice could be directing. me, I followed its instructions. I turned to the left at the willow tree and followed the path before me for about a quarter cf a mile. There directly in front of me was a huze cpening, which looked like the cpening to a cave. “Should I venture in?” I asked myself. And to solve my question the strange voice, this time in front of me said, “Enter the cave but take precaution to abanden all malicious thought and suspicion from your mind.” Timidly venturing into the dark and ghostly leoking cavern, | saw seated around a fire three persons whom I imagined were witches. They beckoned to me to come near, and I ad- vanced with trembling knees, yet with an unusual amount of curiosity. “Seat yourself, stranger,” said the first witch. “Fear no harm, wanderer,” continued the second witch. “Come near to the fire and join in our spirit of cengeniality, there is only good in our intentions and many facts of interest to you,” said the third witch, “are hidden in this pot, and we have stirred it for hours until you should arrive here guided by the veice of our mystic attendant.” Each witch stirred with a weoden stick the contents of the pot, and as they stirred they sang three times, “Bubble, bubble, Toil and trouble, Fire burn and Caldren bubble.” After dancing around the fire the first witch said, “The pot is now ready to reveal its mysteries. Come near, stranger, and prepare to see the secrets it alone can reveal.” H-avy fumes arose from the pot and in them was formed a picture, a vague picture it was, yet I realized that it was a young woman, very business-like in a blue smock, painting a view of the landscape on the canvas in front of her. The honk of a horn interrupted her work; she turned from the canvas, painted her lips and dashed out of the door of her studio. Yes, it was Lillian Arthur. The vision faded and another picture was formed; this time I saw a quaint little cottage with flowers all around it. A girl was hanging on the gate, seemingly waiting for the man in overalls, who was coming over the hill, carrying two pails cf milk. I marvelled at the con- tentment expressed in their faces. The picture became clearer and I saw that they were my schoolmates, Winfree Hughes and Shirley Snyder. From the looks of the clothes on the line in the back of the house, there seemed to be more than just the two of them. The picture passed away and the witches danced around the fire, stirring the contents of the pot and chanting their weird song. Another picture was fermed in the fumes, this time I saw a nurse walking briskly through the hall of a large hospital. She was very important- looking and many nurses stopped and consulted her. To be sure, it was Katherine Morris, now superintendent of Jefferson Hospital. Again the vision changed. I gazed into the fumes and I saw a girl sitting at a desk busily writing. She was in a newspaper office. I could see the title of the article’ she was writing— it was “Points in Love.” I immediately recognized Maude Smith. I drew nearer; this time I saw a man directing the construction of a large building. Of course it could have been no other than Lawrence McCormick. The fumes died down and the witches again stirred the mixture in the caldron. This time the vision was clearer than before; I saw a beautiful town. Why! it was Altavista, but how changed. It was now a large city. I saw a crowded courtroom. The red-headed judge presiding 18 a” - 2. s 2? 2-2 a 4? 2 2% 9? 9 3? 2»? se .- 3? S - S -S? S ’ + iy weer wrn coerwee PUN 1 er rn Cer errr rey s 0. @ 2g -3 2 3-?- 3? 3? 3? Te al ae ee ee aT ee ee ee oe ee ee ee ee ee ee Ee Ee ee ee

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oF , eter ee ce cece PUNT cer wr wre re cerry a Ml Varn ies Vode Nol an Oe ane Wo ae ok ie a i No ee ae ed ed ea ee ea on a Cdn eg eS Pe wn oe ane Cee ene nde onde on Se ed ee ee ee ee al ee 7 — ass s 2s 2 history One bright September morning in 1926, Miss Juliet Fauntleroy was greeted by the smiling faces of forty-two fresh freshmen, Under her leadership and the motto, “Truth conquers all things,” we finally settled down to work. Due to the number of students, we were divided into sections for classes. Miss Juliet and Miss Phillips were our Math teachers, Mrs. Arthur our Science instructor, Mrs. Rowbotham con- ducted English, and Mr. Childs tackled us all in one class for Latin. Some of our members grew tired and quit; others found it was impossible to follow the majority into the Sophomore class. The following September a young man was ushered into Room No. 9 by Mr. Childs, and introduced as “Mr. Bledsoe,” our future home-room teacher. Our origi- nal class members had decreased to twenty-eight. Ernest Gaddy and Gordon Owen were added, bringing our number up to thirty. In spite of the fact we felt much honored in being Sophomores, we found the work much harder than we had ex- pected, and we didn’t have as much time for looking down upon the “rats” as we had hoped for. To our High School Faculty Miss Roby Newton was added, taking Mrs. Arthur’s place in teaching Science I and History II. It was with great joy that we entered our Junior year. Mrs. Rowbotham was our home-room teacher. Mr. Trent replaced Mr. Bledsoe, teaching us History III. Miss Phillips continued instructing us in Math which had progressed to the stage of Plane Geometry, and helped us over the orations of Cicero, and Latin Grammar. Miss Newton taught Spanish and French. We were lucky enough still to have Mrs. Rowbotham for our English instructor. Five of our Sophomore classmates had fallen from the line but five others “fell in,” bringing our number up to thirty, the same enrollment of the year before. Virginia Blankinship, Winfree Hughes, Eliza- beth Kirkpatrick, Eleanor Morris, of Evington and James Burnette of Leesville, one of our former freshman classmates, willingly and joyfully fell in line with the Juniors. Early in the spring of ’29 we entertained the Seniors and High School faculty at a picnic on the Dalton lawn. This was an overwhelming success. At Commencement we were allowed the pleasure of making and carrying a daisy chain for the seniors. Two of our boys played a prominent part in the operatta, and several others played minor parts. Here we found that each one had striven to live up to our motto, “Not failure, but low aim is crime.” As a result, all but three of our number were ready to enter the Senior class. September 10, 1929, found us looking eagerly into the sweet smiling face of Miss Phillips, who agreed to help us over our final trials and troubles. To this she has been true. Robert Clark of Dry Fork, joined our number. Now we have a class of twenty-eight. Our Senior dinner and supper, given in the Presbyterian church, was a big success. Spring found many of our members active in the Literary Contest and Field meet. We are expecting, by the co-operation of all our members, to put out an annual and stage a Senior Play. We offer our last thanks to Mr. Childs, Miss Phillips, Mrs. Rowbotham, Miss Woodson, Mr. Crigler, and our teachers of the past for their help and unfailing encouragement. We feel that on May 27, when we have truly found that our motto per aspera ad sidera—‘Through difficulty to the stars’—is true and that honor comes after labor, we will not find ourselves lacking a diploma, our final reward. ETHEL ANTHONY, Historian. Yea a a a a a aD eS ED OT ED ED ED Ee le Oe eld

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pervert eurececewre Punting ecrce Me Wane Ge Gee ee ee 7. ae @ eo “a9 “a a? a” a 42a? as so 2s was Edward English. The lawyers were Ernest Gaddy and Robert Clark. The voice of Gaddy roared, “brown eyes would make anybody beautiful.” The answer came from Lawyer Clark, “Science teaches the color blue throws off light and heat, and attracts, while brown is a dull somber color.” The Judge’s decision was without question—gray eyes throw off light and heat, attract, absorb interest, compel and bind forever. Again the vision changed; now I saw a beautiful home and in front of it was a man trying to sell a sport roadster to a prosperous-looking woman. I could see her shake her head, re- fusing to buy, but the salesman finally erased all doubt from her mind and she bought it. The high-powered salesman was Earle McCormick and the woman was Virginia Finch. I gazed again into the fumes. I saw a stage, a musical comedy was being given. I recog- nized in the chorus of beautiful girls Estelle Wilburn and Frances Barrett. Naturally they would be together. My glance switched from the stage to where the orchestra was situated. Who should be directing it but William Rountrey. Oh! Yes it was Ziegfield’s theater. The fumes died down and the witches stirred the contents of the pet three times. Again the smoke arose. I saw a magnificient home. A man and woman came out of it quarreling or arguing vigorously, but before they got te the limousine that was waiting for them, the woman had persuaded the man to her side of the argument. He looked very happy. I recognized Graham McCartney and Lemma Owen. Next I saw a school house, and in one of the class-reoms I saw Eleanor Morris teaching English and trying her best to imitate Mrs. Rowbotham. She had her class giving one oral report after the other. Sull wandering through class rooms, as in days of yore, a man sauntered in; the teacher addressed him as Professor Owen. Could it be Gordon Owen, my classmate? The scene changed into another classroom. I saw Beverly Wilkinson teaching a large Latin class. I heard her say “Class, never use a pony, for an aeroplane will carry you much faster.” The contents of the pot bubbled down. The first witch asked me if I cared to see more. I eagerly told her to reveal the fortunes of my other classmates. The witches danced around the pot, stirring it as before. Another vision arose before my eyes. I saw many books. Standing by the books that had made her famous was Ethel Anthony, the author of them all. I saw more books, forbidding looking, that appeared to be Histories. I looked closer to see who the author of such imposing books could be. To my surprise there it was in big letters the name, Mr. Marion Durwood Fitzgerald. I gazed again into the fumes that arose from the caldron. This time I saw a handsome man dressed in sport clothes, surrounded by a crowd of admiring girls. It was John East, the shiek of the class of 1930, living up to his old motto, “All play and no work makes John a happy boy.” I looked closer. I saw a girl in a gymnasium coaching basketball. The little figure looked familiar. I then recognized “Duck Waldon.” Next I saw a man traveling from city to city. He would stop at each city and lecture to great crowds of people who drank in his words. His lectures evidently pertained to farming for I heard him say, “When I lived in Leesville I raised the fattest pigs in the county.” I hadn’t known at first who he was, but now I knew it could be none other than Sammy Mattox. I saw another -picture. It was Velma Doss busily washing dishes in a neat kitchenette. Ancther ring. matching “The Diamond,” was on her finger. A man nearby was helping dry the dishes, but the vision changed before I could) recognize him. The University of Virginia loomed before me. Curiosity drew me into an unfamiliar building, entitled “Motorcycle Department.” The instructor was Aileen Wood. Another vision arose before my eyes, | saw Margaret Jones happily married and living in Altavista. I now became more interested, for I realized that the caldron had revealed to me the future of every member of the class of 1930. I next expected it to portray my own future. But I was disappointed, for the witches jumped into the pot and passed through the roof of the cave, with a roar as of thunder, without giving me even a hint as to my own future. I suddenly awoke to find that I had fallen asleep while preparing a theme on Macbeth, to hand in to Mrs. Rewbotham the next day. As I picked up the book and read over the scene ef the three witch-s on the heath, I smiled and wondered if any part of my dream would ever come true. THe PropHet (HELEN LANE). 19