Clearwater High School - Aqua Clara Yearbook (Clearwater, FL)

Page 22 text:

K=XI C=.. XK XK — mm M K- inspired a laugh. The huge tent rocked to and fro with the mirth of the occupants. 1 caught some- thing familiar in the actions of the funny man, but not until he called out “Whoop-a-la-la” did 1 rec- ognize Everad Mann. “Oh, Everad,” I thought, “your practice in the Junior-Senior circus proved an aid to you.” A soft breeze blew and rustled the silk dresses of the young women who were wondering about the gorgeous green lawns of a wonderful estate. They were talking excitedly about the guest of hon- or, lady Stanislus, the most beautiful woman in the country. She was lunching at Windsor Castle with Her Majesty but was expected to return any minute. Suddenly the crowd separated into two lines and down between them came a distinguished looking young man talking to a lady at his side. I could not see the young lady’s face but the dignity and indifference in her manner were strangely fam- iliar. She raised her head. Oh, Lois, Lois, 1 might have known that no one else could make a whole country sit up and take notice as well as you could. Unseen, my guide and 1 entered a large room which I recognized as the Solid Geometry recitation room at Yale College. A voice, terrible in it’s sterness and wisdom, thundered, “We will review to-day’s lesson and take in advance propositions thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two and thirty-three. Class is excused.’’ A tall man, the owner of the voice X K ‘ XK X X XX XX x i turned wearily around and sank into a chair.. I gasped in surprise but 1 might have known it. Ed- win always was a wonder in Solid Geometry. I next opened my eyes to the splendor and glare of the reception room of the White House. The president’s inaugural reception was being held. I looked around for the leader of our country. Amid cheers, the president entered. Weekly, I sank into a near by chair. The first person in the land was a woman. She turned and 1 saw her face. Never could I be mistaken in those golden curls and laugh- ing gray eyes and dimpled cheeks. Edith Compton always did get what she went after anyway. Why had I been led to the rear entrance of this big theatre. I wasn’t interested in these chorus beauties who were coming out into the night. Not till 1 heard one exclaim: “What wo-o-o-nderful flowers!’’ did I see anything of interest. Just as the girl and a young man entered a waiting limou- sine I saw why 1 had been brought to this scene. I recognized the chorus girl’s escort. Well George Selby always was the class flirt. A golden voice rang out in the closing bars of a passionate song. For a breathless minute an in- tense silence, broken only by smothered sobs, held the gigantic opera house and then, as the prima donna smiled sweetly and bowed, a storm of ap- plause broke. Cheer after cheer rang out. Flow- ers were showered upon the stage. Crys of “Encore! xx xx xx xx XX XI

Page 21 text:

XJC XK XK P K =XK= IX iC djk: Z HC IX 1C X 0 0 Senior Class Propliecij, 19 OR THREE hours I had been studying Vir- gil. I had seen Aeneas go to the cave of the Cumean Sybil. I had heard him ask her concern- ing his future and the city which he was to found. Slowly the clock chimed the hour of midnight. My Virgil book slipped unheeded to the floor and with a weary sigh 1 closed my eyes leaving Aeneas watching his descendants pass before him. How I envied the mighty Trojan with his privilege of looking into the future. Still pondering upon this I fell asleep and so great an impression had my studying and my envy made upon my mind that they followed me into my dreams. 1 stood by a huge, black cave, the abode of the Cumean Sybil. I entered and was confronted by the Sybil herself. “What would you have?” she croaked. Speak! who’s past, present or future would you know? Without a moment’s hesitation I replied: I would see the class of 1 9 1 9 in the year 1 934.’’ The Sybil turned to a tall, veiled figure, which I hadn’t noticed before. “Show her the class of 1 91 9 of Clearwater High School fifteen years from now,’’ the old hag com- manded. 3 Hardly had the command left the Sybil’s lips when I was lifted as though I were a feather and with my guide I sailed out of the cave on the air. “Close your eyes,’’ said the spirit, and do not open them ’till 1 give the signal. What was that sound, haunting and wonderful? Crooning sweetly as a mother s lullaby it rose, then softly it died away on the stillness. A great clap- ping of hands followed and the spirit and 1 stopped At a word from my guide I opened my eyes. I was in an immense opera house. On one of the exquisitely tapestried boxes I saw the arms ot the royal family of England. From that box boquets were being tossed to the stage. There, receiving all this homage and praise, stood a young wonder. In her hand was a rare, old cremond. As she turn- ed toward me I, with a cry of joy, recognized my old chum, Ida Seals. No sooner had I recognized Ida than I was whisked out of the building. Again I opened my eyes. I was in circus tent and the manager was talking. “Our most famous merry-maker. Re- nowned from one end of the earth to the other. No sooner had he finished than in came a clown. And what a clown ! Every glance and movement X 0 o 0 0 X MK= =XK= = iK= DUC Z KZ XK XK X K K j IOKZZXK

Page 23 text:

xk i k — xk — ■ Mk m Encore!” split the air. 1 looked at the prima donna and could have wept for joy. Before me bowing and smiling as sweetly as she had in C. H. S. days stood Lula May receiving the homage due her. After the storm of applause had ceased a name appeared on the back of the stage in gold letters. “Madamoiselle Fusselle.” Breathless, I waited. I heard some one whisper, “She’s been acknowledg- ed by Paderewski as his successor as world’s great- est pianist and everyone else says that she’s his superior, ”as a young lady walked out on the stage. Oh, that dainty air! Could I ever forget it? She music began. No one can describe it. It rose full and strong until it filled the whole room and one felt the exquisite vibrations. Then slowly it grew softer till it sounded like a soft breeze. As the music ceased and the musician stood to receive her deserv- ed tribute I recognized my old school mate, Lucille Fussel, our wonderful pianist in C. FI. S. days. “To think,” I sighed, “what wonderful homes my old friends must have.” No sooner had the words left my lips than I found myself outside a gorgeous building. A neat- ly engraved sign read: “Bachelor Girl Apartments.” “There,” whispered my guide, “There live your friends.” The strains of a waltz and the sound of many feet gliding over a floor fell tantalizingly on my ears. A worried voice kept saying: “one-two-three- four.” I opened my eyes. I was in an exquisitely ax X K ... -H K I K HK XK furnished room. It was evidently a dancing studio. A tall man, dressed in immaculate attire was trying to teach a young girl how to dance. He was work- ing hard trying to count loud enough to be heard above the chatter of his pupils. The couple whirl- ed and the teacher’s face was turned toward me. I gasped and stared incredulously. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Who would have thought in C. H. S. days that our quietest boy, Fred Kilgore, would ever be a celebrated dancer. Why was everyone so excited? People were running here and there. Suddenly a band began to play, I then realized that a parade was coming. “What is it for?” I asked my guide. “A friend of yours,” the spirit answered. He is a great political leader, the greatest power in the Senate, a man feared and respected by the whole world. Look upon him and see if you do not rec- ognize your school mate.” I looked and there, bowing and smiling, stood Paul Bolles. I wasn’t very much surprised for Paul always had been an expert bluffer. Again I stood in the Sybil’s cave. My tour was finished. “But my future,” I wailed!” May I not see my own future?” “Nay,” croaked the Sybil, “that I may not tell you. But I promise you it will be to your liking.” There my dream ended. ARDYS POPPLER, ’19.