Downers Grove North High School - Cauldron Yearbook (Downers Grove, IL)

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Class Song (Tune, “Old Gang of Mine ) Dear Class of ’24 all of the years Of working together, our triumphs, our fears In our old High now have come to an end Our hands, our hearts to the world we must lend. Chorus: But, dear old High, we ll ne’er forget those dear days of yore Days when we were your love and pride, the class of '24 We leave you now with a sadness untold Our hearts full of love, our memories of gold We promise you more pride in the years to come, in Class '24. Tho we must part, the tomorrow we ll be Out in the world, perhaps far, far from thee Oh! Downers Grove, we can never forget Those dear old halls where Class ’24 met. Chorus: Oh, but we ll give the world to see that old class of ours Finest of classes, dearest friends of happy childhood hours Four happy years have we spent in these halls Now we re forever going forth from these walls Still in years to come will give the world to see that old class of ours.

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Class Poem And so again, O dear old Downers High You send another group into the world Your children all—We leave behind Sweet, precious memories of racing years. Far, far too swiftly fled. Among the well-known halls Ghosts of our happy past flit to and fro The little, laughing ghosts of childish pranks Some half forgotten, some remembered still, Bringing a laugh, a smile to youthful lips Sober in new-found dignity. And there in some dark corner all alone The drooping, weeping, listless little sprite Of failures, for the moment bleak and grim Exams we failed, the team we didn't make And other moments tragic to our souls; A wistful, large-eyed ghost of eager hopes And by her side an eager, fragile thing Of those hopes realized in youthful hearts Of triumph throbbing high in youthful minds. A meek bewildered spirit of the years So quickly gone with childhood. In its stead Is youth, clear-eyed and brave. O Downers Grove— We hope, returned, some day You'll welcome us with pride we’ve justly earned. And know, to you, your children all give back The love, the credit that are yours. O careless world— We face you now with bravest hearts and minds With faithful souls and ever-ready hands Receive of us the gifts that youth can give Receive us as your own—we come to you Eager and willing—take us to your heart. O watching God— Live in our hearts from day to day. Live in our minds, our souls, that we may still Know and love and learn—that we may give The best that’s in us in our daily task, The best that's in us every month and year. The best that’s in us always without end. —EDITH PERRON. Page ln cnl f-four

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Prophecy of Class 1924 'piME—1940. Place—Downers Grove. Scene—Postoffice. (On the walls are posters, one stating the advisability of buying Miss Margaret Stough’s new course Latin books; another advertising Jesse Old- field’s new cut style chewing tobacco. In one corner is a stenographer and as she looks up we see that it is none other than Ruth Thomas. Donald Van Valen, chief postmaster, enters, fol- lowed by several small, trim boys carrying mail sacks. Van is still young, thirty-odd is no longer old. He deposits his hat and cane on a rack, stuffs his gloves in his coat pocket and hangs it up. He takes his place at his desk as Ruth nods.) Ruth: Good morning. Van; aren’t you rather late? There’s a pile of letters waiting for you. They came in on the early train. Van (opening and scanning his mail as he talks) : Hello, yes, I am late. My man was late getting the car started and 1 had to stop at Hawkins Junk Shop to tell Herbie of some newspapers and an old stove in my cellar; and to order some fruit. You know he has taken on fruit as a side line. Well—I say, look here, speak of the angels! (Herbie enters, a basket of fruit on one arm, old newspapers in the other. He dumps these on the floor and delving into the depths of his hat unearths a yellow envelope.) Herbie: Telegram for you. Van; not bad news, I hope. (Van opens it and glances at the contents) : Gh. no. President Bryap wants me to come to Washington immediately to attend a conference with the King of England and the President of France. My plane’s being fixed so I'll have to take the passenger. It leaves at two, there’s plenty of time to go home and pack. Thanks, good-bye. (He starts for the door, Herbie following.) I’ll send a substitute im- mediately. You take charge till he comes, will you, Ruth? Good-bye. (Ruth types for a few minutes. Then stops to sort out a few loose letters and packages. As she finishes the substitute comes in. He is an old man and seems quite interested in the place.) Man: Hello, thar, Ruth. I’m Mr. Johnson, remember? I happened to be visiting here and Donald asked me to take his place. Ruth: Of course I remember you, Mr. Johnson. I'm so glad to see you and I know you know just what to do. The mail is in and we can begin to sort it. (He lifts up a paper and scans it interestedly.) Mr. Johnson: Wal, wal, will you look at this now. H. Barnhart and D. Towsley—Brokers. Got a swell ad in here. Now what do you know about that? Say, I remember way back in ’24. Horace—no—Barney— that’s it—Barney was a basketball star, and Tubby used to take such a long walk every night before he went home from school. Ha, ha! Page ln cnty-six