Bexley High School - Bexleo Yearbook (Bexley, OH)

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THE BEXLONIAN 30 SENIOR CLASS PROPHECY The Class of Twenty-three were we. And such another there will never be; We were loyal, brave and true, We always fought for the White and Blue. We were proud of our high school, We were loyal to the New B. H. S., We were always working and never shirking To make our school a success. Beyond doubt we were the very first seniors, Real “pep” was not lacking in any, But we were the class that none could surpass— The Class of Three-and-twenty. As the Class of Three-and-twenty, What we have done has been a plenty; It’s what we are doing and what we will do That will be of interest to all of you. We all drifted and went our way into the great unknown, And if you listen I’ll tell to you those who have reached renown: Marion Gilberg, who is noted for talk, Is easily known by the way of her walk; A humorous lecturer she is bound to be, And tell funny jokes to the world and me. Josephine Atkinson realized her am- bition And now she is becoming a great musician. Mildred Wells, the ne’er do well, Is all wrapped up in being a belle; But now she is tiring of the toilsome life, And wants to get married and be out of strife. The remarkable Robert, we must view from afar, He has made a big hit as a movie star; When we are weary and in need of rest, We go to the theatre and see “Bob” do his best. Gladys Schaaf, a public speaker from force, Has won her fame on the Lyceum course. Arthur Stocker, of course, is the same as ever, From his “raspberries” he will never sever; An agriculturist of State, his fame is told, And a little wife in his arms to enfold. Grace Tarbert, tiring of common life, Longed to be some one’s happy wife; Of her greatest dreams marriage was not least, And at last she was caught by that fel- low Nice. Lindley Williams, the woman’s man, Rides around in a big sedan; He poses and talks, he laughs and flirts, But it is said that he never does any work. Marion Office, the curly-headed lass, Her love is the kind that always lasts; She is short and sweet and delights in a tease, But for finding a husband she is hard to please. Clarence Russell sought a bride, To be a sailor was his heart’s pride; He sailed on the sea from Africa to the U. S. To find him a wife—it was a great success. Ruth Poole, the butterfly girl, From dancing, her head is all in a whirl; She has chosen her mate from among her friends, And to her wishes he is bound to bend. Sophia Petzinger has remarkable skill, When you eat at her house you will get your fill; She has taken her stand in an “English” school, And brings them up with the Golden Rule. Vernon Ridgeway, as you know, has gained quite a fame; Among the world’s artists he has quite a name. Harry Kuhn, as you all see, A great inventor he is bound to be; He is doing his best to invent a way To turn the long nights into day.

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THE BEXLONIAN ence stretched them out, cracked their bones and pulled their muscles in a fearful way, but they came from his office cured, smiling and happy, pro- claiming to the world what a help to humanity the kind-hearted Dr. Russell was. The picture now showed Hollywood, and in her studio I saw Gladys Schaaf, the screen star, registering tears, laughter and roguishness before the cameras, while fans crowded around the door, waving autograph books for her to sign. Next I was shown the shoppe of Madamoiselle Antoinette La Tarbertte (Grace Tarbert, in other words), who had made much money and gained much fame as a modiste in the famous fash- ion center of the world, Fifth Avenue, New York. Now I saw a huge hospital, at which were gathered all of the best doctors, nurses and cooks of the world. In the steward’s office was Mildred Wells, the well-known dietitian. And when this picture had faded I saw a library surrounded by a rare col- lection of books, many of which were his own, the poet and cynic, Lindley Williams, who was gazing into a fire, smoking his pipe, while doubtless many beautiful thoughts for his next poem filled his head. The glow faded and the tolling of the Cathedral bells brought me from my revery. But my thoughts were no longer sad, for I realized that the span of my life had stretched long enough, and I was content with the knowledge that the rosy dreams of the future that I had held at graduation had been ful- filled, and that all of my classmates had made successes of their lives. WILLEEN LUDWIG. ------B------- FISHING AS RECITED BY ROBBY EDWARDS Last summer while taking his annual outing he stopped for a few days ’mongst the Fijis in their native lair. His friend, Chief Ginsburg, was going fishing the day of our schoolmate’s ar- rival, and Robby invited himself as the accompanist. The royal Ziggaboo snatched himself a pole and a frog for bait, cast him into the water and waited one second, one minute, one hour and one day; but alas, ’twas all in vain. The Chief jabbed his pole in the bank and they went out to spear some lions or tigers for lunch. But on their return, lo and behold, the frog was sitting on the pole over the water, singing the siren’s song to the fish, while they vainly leaped for the royal froggy. His Royal Nobs unslung his trusty javelin and with it fish after fish was captured and flung to our Robby’s waiting hands till they had more than they could carry back. Just another proof that “Truth is stranger than fiction.” ------B------- INFORMATION BUREAU Who makes everybody laugh?— “Lloyd.” Where do you get water?—“Wells.” What belongs to a wagon ?— “Schaaf.” What makes a minstrel show?— “Kuhn.” What is the most dreaded room in school ?—“Office.” What is your favorite flower?— (Sweet) “Williams.” What did most people do to their cellars before prohibition?—“Stock” ’er (up). What are the heavy weights?—“Bar- ton.” What is above the foot?—“Legg.” Where is your hangout in the sum- mer?— (Swimmin’) “Poole.” What do the trees do when the wind blows ?—“Russell.” How much gold do you want?— “Pyles.” What are altars for ?—Marry-on (Marion G.) What do you say at the table?— “Grace.”

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31 THE BEXLONIAN William McConnell, the classified, It seems is simply idolized; He is an all-round fellow and quite a good man, And delights in giving all good to the world that he can. Berwyn Legg the athletic honors took, He always had his lessons and never had a book; In a site far remote he awaited his fate, And success finally came in a Western state. As for Louise Lloyd, it’s not hard to guess, In the arms of Russell she is bound to rest; A better match could not be found, For he owns the finest “pill” store in town. Bernice Barton, the freckled face, Always liked to win the race; She sought and sought and sought for fame, She has it now, driving an aeroplane. Willeen Ludwig, the social star, Is always seen driving a touring car; She dances and sings and plays the violin, And the rest of her time she is always with “Lin.” In John Sydman there is quite a change, And people think it very strange; As mayor of Bexley he won the fight, As president of U. S. he is just right. Vivian Moyer, the dear, sweet girl, Is all turned round in a missionary whirl; Among the Africans she has taken her stand, And even their ignorance can’t make her (ideas) disband. Edna Pyle’s drawings deserve honor- able mention; She is one girl that does not have a drug store complexion; She is contented and jolly and happy and bright; As a record for eating salads and pickles—Good night! And so our Class of Three-and-twenty Has found its work to be a plenty; But not one of us will ever forget Old B. H. S., we’re true to you, you bet; We’ve been the world over and visited schools, too, And can’t find any that will compare to you. MARY EDNA PYLE.