Bloomington High School - Aepix Yearbook (Bloomington, IL)

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Senior Prophecy HE year is tgtio, and the white house a little way off' the Reisterstown Road and noted for miles around as the home of the hospitable Harveys is literally overflowing with people, for this is a day twofold in its importance. It is not only Hunt Cup day, but also the day appointed for the reunion of the gradu- ating class of 1941 from the Hannah More Academy. The place is alive with chatter. The twenty years that have added grace and charm to that famous class fthe class of the fancy dressesj slip mysteriously away, leaving happy people wl1o cluster around a Miss Harvey dressed in her usual trim riding habit. Each new arrival is greeted with gleeful sounds of Gosh, we're glad to see you! Barbara XfVhritner is here, trim and grave. Her research on the organic structure of the deadly hIitterbug was her first notable scientific contribution. Now married, she and her husband live quietly on a farm with their ten chil- dren. Also present is Brooks, famous as the dramatic artist, whose readings of lVinnie the Pooh have made the entire world Pooh-conscious. Unmarried and an honorary general in the United States Army, she has homes at NVest Point and in New York. Ushering in a herd of children ranging in age from two to eight, comes Ethel. It seems that she ran a kindergarten. teaching her small charges to sing like so many larks, until she fell in love with the man who sold her building blocks. She now has a private kindergarten made up entirely of her own chil- dren, four sets of twins. Miss Harvey gets a telegram. Dolefully she reads, Sorry-holding a class in debate-will think of you between rounds-Love-Sister Mary Genevieve . Ev- erybody groans, for what is a gathering without -lean Viney! There is a rumor that a tall, tan, terrific Amazon is in our midst. To our relief we find that she is no stranger, but our own comrade, Wilmah vVallace, whom we all remember in the days at H.M.A., when she could sit through any Saturday thriller without turning a hair. As she reacched maturity, she felt the need of adventureg so in order to Gnd excitement she made it herself. She does research in camouflage for the vVar Department and has just returned from Af- rica, where she was searching for an invisible dye. An ear splitting greeting issuing from the threshold subtly acquaints us with the fact that Chesca has arrived. She bounces forward attired in immaculate riding clothes, and, oh yes!-her bangs are still banging in their accustomed place! But what is that petit and henpecked individual standing behind her? Her spouse, a rather timid soul, to be sure, but a most agreeable husband, Clhesca asserts. Suddenly, as swiftly as she arrived, Chesca withdraws to take her place as the first female rider in the Hunt Cup Raceg her husband tiptoes meekly after her to adjust her stirrups. Ella Gott floats in as a beautiful cloud glides across the sky. Everyone rushes to greet her, and during the ensuing conversation we learn that she is the happy wife of a wealthy shoe dealer, and she spends her time, when not singing alto solos with the Metropolitan, passing out brown and white shoes to poor children as a veritable Lady Bountiful. vVe hardly recognize Winty Wise since she has dyed her hair and wears it in dignihed braids around her head. She is happily espoused to the athletic in- E231

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Article Article Article Article Article Article Article Article Article Article Article Article Article Article Article Article Article Article Article Article Article Article Article The Last Will and Testament of the Senior Class of 1941 I, Francesca Birckhead, do give and bequeath my purple gym sweat- er to Mary Stuart Zangler, provided she can manage to keep it on. I, Katherine Burr, do give and bequeath my raven locks to Beverly Michael. I, -jane Sayer Campbell, do give and bequeath my height to Marion Francina, so it will remain in the family. I, Connie Chenoweth, do give and bequeath my prodigious appetite to Peggy Stott. I, Elsa Funaro, do give and bequeath my liver complaint to Agnes Anthony. I, Florrie Gallaher, do give and bequeath my blond hair to Polly Strobel, so that she will not have to spend so much time and energy on her own. 1, Nellie Greaves, do give and bequeath my audible presence to Miss McGuire and Third Rear Dorm, so they will not be lonesome. I, Sue Heistand, do give and bequeath my red flannel pajamas to Gail Parry and Mary VVade to tone them down a little. I. Ethel Heistand, do give and bequeath my ability to knit a sweater in almost four years to Maud Hall. I, Brooks Lewis, do give and bequeath my ability and love for con- suming salads to whoever would like it. I, Sally Bruce Mann, do give and bequeath my Hopkins following to Betty Blunt. I, Margaret Meyerkort, being of seeming sane mind, do give and be- queath my unfailing promptness to breakfast to Miss Hill. I, Gina Nalle, do give and bequeath my amazing ability to make faux pas to the various members of the faculty to Mary jean Baker. I, Francis Pugh, do give and bequeath my never failing, unending power to sleep late in the mornings to Gail Parry and Mary NVade. and my position as substitute organist to anyone who has enough courage to take it. I, Polkie Roberts, do give and bequeath my philosophical mind to Miss McGuire, my chemistry grades to anyone who wants them, and my legal aspirations to posterity. I, -lean Viney Stevenson, do solemnly give and bequeath my tender spot in every faculty member's heart to my little sister, Ruth. I, Ann Trapnell, do give and bequeath to Violet Lang, that unfor- tunate gaping space of hair which discloses my oricular organs, a condition commonly known as E, H. O, that has proved such a plague to me in past years. I, Wlilmah Ivallace, do give and bequeath my ability to add a hu- morous touch to recitals to Maud Hall. I. Barbara vVhritner, do give and bequeath my knowledge of sailing to Alice Bartlett. I, Mfinty Mfise, do give and bequeath my tall male acquaintances to Ann Clay. I, Ella Gott Mloollen, do give and bequeath my laugh and grow fat policy to Helen Marshall. I, joan VVroth, do give and bequeath my YVest Virginia Twang to Peggy Holmes. IfVe. the class of '41, do give and bequeath our position as dignified QFD and respected seniors to the class of '42. l22l

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Senior Prophecy -- cont. structor of St. james School and has introduced a new course of study which makes it compulsory for every boy to read the entire series of Elsie IJlIISI'l10I'CH to he eligible for graduation and college entrance. As a liguresome figure advances towards us in a frightfully short skirt, we know at once that it is Virginia Nalle. We had heard that she married a pro- fessor at Amherst, and she confirms the rumor with Yes, a blue-eyed one. Aside from her 'Iunior-Leaguing in Southport and debutante-daughtering in New York and Richmond, her time is completely occupied by a kindergarten class in economics. .lust then the door opens and in bursts L.C. herself, or perhaps I should say Mrs. Macaroni, to suit her new dignihed appearance. It did not take us long to discover that Elsa had no sooner landed in New York for Barnard than she had made the acquaintance of a young attache of the Italian legation, Antonio Macaroni, who, in his impetuous Italian way, asked her, two days later, to marry him. She has brought her little son, Antonio, Jr., with her. He is certainly handsome, having the very fair skin, light hair, and blue eyes which characterize all northern ltal'ans. She is starting to rave about her villa in Naples, when someone interrupts to remark, Talking about art, did you all notice that hne picture over the mantlepiece? It's a reproduction of one of Kathy Burr's mas- terpiecesf' I'm glad you like it, said a voice from the doorway, and we all turned around, astonished to see Kathy herself, standing there, for the last time we had heard of her, she and her army husband had been stationed in the Philippines. Shortly after becoming famous in the world of art, Kathy's greatest ambition had lzeen realized in becoming an army ofhcer's wife. However, she informs tis earnestly that she has not given up art, but is at that very time working on a series of paintings entitled Army Life or After West Point IN7hat? Sally Bruce Mann has changed radically. She is slightly stooped Qshe never did think much of good posture, you knowj, but otherwise is the picture of painted health. In fact, she has become a menace to the younger generation of females as regards man-hunting and catching. Never being an especially home- loving soul, she has persuaded each of her six husbands in turn to take her around the world on the honeymoon, and she has even discovered a new island on which nothing else but potato chips grow, and in honor of which she has named her fourth son Mr. Chips. Suddenly two huge Russian W'olfhounds appear in the door, followed by Margaret Meyerkort. Margaret has just flown in from her desert island in the South Seas, where she has a thatched hut and fifty servants. Someone speaks up after a momentary lull in the conversation, By the way, where's Polkie? You know,' she laughed half apologetically, I hardly feel right calling her Polkie, now that she's running for President of the United States. Really, someone interrupts, it's remarkable, passing her Bar Examina- tion in four years. They say it's due to her insomniag she did her work in half- time. She should be here any moment, but what with being a criminal lawyer, writing theses on philosophy, and soothing all those nine husbands past and fu- ture, she's busy-yes, rather busy! I'm glad someone is as busy as I, exclaims Nellie, who has just entered during the conversation. Being an army wife, and trying to get my sons even- l24l