Clinton High School - Clintonia Yearbook (Clinton, IL)

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The Clintonia 1921 Called the wizard of our class, He makes Latin but a pastime, And his talents they are many. Then there's handsome NVillis Reddick, The Beau Brummel of the bunch, Willis is our proudest member, VVe predict for him a future, Future full of wealth and grandeur. There are others far too numerous, Far too many their names to print, So we come now to our parties, To the frolics and the pleasures: First a picnic in September, VVhen we went to Pastime Park, Played the old, old game of horseshoe, Swung in swings high in the treetops. HalloWe'en was dress-up evening, Departed spirits came and talked. November Eleventh, our school parade, Autocracy forever was then interred. And in winter when the snowflakes Vtfhirled in circles round the corners VVhen we gave the Lexington party, Seniors and Juniors worked together. A Junior party out at Welflses, Vtlhere we stayed ,til twelve o'clock, Wrote in rhyme and guessed at pictures, Had our eats in paper buckets Trimmed with eupids and with hearts. Should you ask who wrote these verses Yerses that are poorly written, l would answer E. E. NV., E. VV., her surname Wleld. I lag: 31

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The Clintonia 1921 Song of the Juniors CVVith apologies to H. W. Longfellowj Do you ask me why this history, Why these facts and dates so true? From the banks of famous Salt Creek, Oler the interurban tracks, From the roads way to the westward, From the City of DeWitt, From the homes of good old Clinton, From the land of fair Italia, Come the Juniors full of wisdom, Full of hope for all our members, VVe, the Class of Twenty-two. Like the treetops of the forest, Looking higher on to greatness, On to glory and to triumph. We, the pride of H. H. Edmunds And the boast of Leon Myers, We who listen to the wisdom From the lips of our Miss Ross, Bothour Dean and Latin teacher. In our class of many members There is Wayne, our saxaphonist, Then comes Kenneth, he of ink fame, He, the one who spilled the acid, He, the friend of Audrey Boone, And Irene, our little artist, She who sailed from Italy's shore, Claibourne Cackley. broken hearted O'er his best friend leaving High School. 'Tis of Mildred we are boastful, She, the boo-kworm of the class, And of Margaret, our pianist, Marian Huff, the giant lady. Then comes Helen with her hair bobbed, Gwendolyn Brown and Helen Stewart, Maurice Langellier, our chemist, Calvin Long, whose name well fits him, Westerholt, the famous classmate, Famed in basketball and football, 'fWesty, called the basket shooter. Johnson follows in his footsteps, Orville and Sharkey, Stout and Lane, These we call athletic heroes, And oft of them you'll hear us boast. Who is this that next comes to me? Leta Marsh, class president, She and Muriel always smiling, Friendly both to brilliant Ruth. VValking proudly next comes Forest, Page 20

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