East High School - Cardinal Yearbook (Minneapolis, MN)

Text from Pages 1 - 206 of the 1908 volume:

I r EAST HIGH SCHOOL THE ’08 CARDINAL This and That about the Juniors and Others of East High Published by the Junior Class of East High School Minneapolis, Minn. SXSRui «'«h library M1NNEAI rJ 9C J Here’s to Mr. Webster He brings to his work a mind cleared and lighted by superior mental endowments, a soul pervaded with a fine insight into the deeper things of life, a heart susceptible to all gracious influences. With alert brain and strong guiding hand, he has set forces in motion which have brought only harmony into our school life. Those who know him merely in his official capacity admire and respect him; but those who know him as an intimate frined have the truest conception of the sweetness of his nature. To us he has been both teacher and friend. We feel that it is a privilege to have associated with so strong and gifted a personality, and to have been gladdend by the abundant life which he has made more possible. No summary of work can be anything but superficial, for life flows on in channels which we cannot fathom, but upon the passing current, we are glad to lay the perfect flower of an earnest, upright, manly life. When the day's work is done and the final roll is made, we are sure that high on the list of The Aristocracy of the W'orld’s Workers will stand the name of Mr. William F. Webster. Officers of the Class of ’08 President—Lawrence Dann Barnard. Vice-President—Vivian Holmes Norwood. Treasurer—Ldwin Chandler Brown. Secretary—Clarice Hertig Sergeant-at-Arms—Earle Conklin Bailie. Sergeant-at-Arms—Florence Margaret Craig. Helen Louise Day. Committees SOCIAL COMMITTEE Leonard E Rollins Catharine L. Roberts Edwin C. Brown Vivian H Norwood N Grace P. Power Josephine S. Crary Clarence O’Gordon Selden Brown Philip L. Ray Dudley Yerxa Janet Ferguson Helen L. Day Kathleen L. Murphy Lawrence D. Barnard Ruth Knowlton Vincent E. Wyman Lac A. Stafford CONSTITUTION COMMITTEE David Ripley West Gregg M. Sinclair Ruth Knowlton Harry Evans Josephine S. Crary. PIN COMMITTEE Ruth Knowlton Earle C. Bailie HAT COMMITTEE Leonard E. Rollins Philip Ray • Clarence O’Gordon David R. West' Class of ’08 Mabel Armstrong Earle C. Bailie v Lawrence Dann Barnard y Gerald Hyde Beard ✓ Marcel Bernhardt ✓ Lorenz Biel ✓ Jesse C. Biers ' Edwin C. Brown William E. Chatfield y Esther Morris Cleveland ✓ Irene Clare Cody v' Lcla Luana Coffin 'S Ava Izora Collier y Florence Margaret Craig Josephine Scott Crary ✓ Robert W. DeVeau • Birdie Claire Dobbs c eneva Hilton Esther M. Pardee Allan W. Hockenburger ” Roland Peteler y Shirley Richardson Holbrook l_ee H. Piper ✓ Ranghild E. Holmquist ✓Sidney Pressey V Alice Belle Hoskin S Kiltie Humphrey v Edward H. Keating ' Kathryn Keating n Esther S. Kees V Ruth Knowlton « Rosalie Larson V Richard O. Leavenworth - Josephine Theresa Littel V Jessie Alson Lombard v Frank S. Preston Julia Margaret Purple Janet Ruth Rankin ✓ Renville S. Rankin ►'Philip L. Ray Sarah T. Rivet vCatharine Lyon Roberts ✓ Leonard E. Rollins ✓ Grace Ethel Sands (✓Arthur T. Scriver { Bertha Lillian Sheffield y Paul N. Loomis ✓ Solveig Magdelene Magelsseni Carolyn A. Shol ✓ Pearl Matteson Gregg Manners Sinclair 10 ' Ernest Ekman Clara Otilia Ellertson v Edwin Elliot v' Carolyn Lucile Everts Emma Facklam Janet Ferguson ✓ Maurice Fitzgerald Neda B. Freeman v' Carroll Gibbs y Lawrena May Graham v'' Beatrice Gruman j Simon C. Hall • Floy Katherine Hamilton Mildred J. Hcnch y Clarice Hertig Hazel Alice McDonald Guy F. Morris Willard Alden Morse •''' Kathleen Lee Murphy . Arthur P. Nelson y Clara I. Neudeck Anita Lillian Niles •' Vivian Holmes Norwood v Ralph E. Nyberg w Grace Lillian O’Neil V Warren W. Oram H. King Painter Stella Eliza Painter S Genevieve Palmer ' Mary Jessie Palmer v Alice Emily Stacy Myrtle E. Steinman Marion I. Stevens v Florence M. Taisey Anna Thompson Katherine G. 1 hompson ‘' Neal C. Towle Opal L. Wasser ''Nellie Webb y Anna C. Weidt David Ripley West •''Arthur Harry Wider Adelphia Woodhouse V'Vincent E. Wyman It Who’s Who THE EDITORS Please judge iheir work leniently Board of Editors Earle Conklin Bailie, Managing Editor ASSOCIATE EDITORS Bertha Lillian Sheffield, Clarice Hertig, David Ripley West, Janet Ruth Rankin, Lawrence Dann Barnard, Sporting Editor Edwin Chandler Brown, Butiness Manager It i Editorials We, the Board of Editors, respectfully offer The Cardinal to the members of the East High School as the result of our first attempt at getting out a high school publication, and as the Annual of the Junior Class of ’08. We have not tried to make it entirely a funny book; we have only endeavered to make a part of it so, and hope that this, as well as the more serious pages, will meet with the approval of our school, both classmates and teachers As the present book is the first annual ever published by any class in the East High School, we intend that it shall serve as a precedent for other class annuals. It is our hope and desire that The Cardinal will help to prolong the remembrances of the many happy hours that we and our classmates have spent in the dear old East High. Soon there will be a great unheaval in the world of law. Why? Because a prophet will arise in the midst of the Pharisees. Who is this great Prophet? E. Herbert Nicholas, unmarried, nationality English, age 29. late of East High School. It is too true. This noble man, this Adonis, this credit to the unparalleled science of Physics, is going to depart, and. Like some unsubstantial pageant faded. Leave not a rack behind. We grow poetical. We never had a teacher dear. One whom we thought would never stray. But what he surely left the school And always ’twas for better pay. We think that it is time that the fights between the different classes of this school should cease. They disturb and annoy the teachers and all pupils in the rooms who wish to study. They also tend to destroy the school spirit. If less time were spent in fighting for one’s class and more for the school it would be much better. But the chief reason why these struggles are bad and useless is because it is so plainly evident that the Juniors are the only class in the school worthy of notice, and that it is extremely foolish for any other class to dispute it. especially as they are sure to be defeated in any attempt. Our innocent and well-meaning parents ask us every now and then concerning the rapid and steady decline of our standings since the worm turned and we became the Right Reverend Juniors of East High. Decidedly their education was lacking, and we wonder where they were brought up. The mind of a Junior is a complex and delicate piece of mechanism, to be handled with care and—but it would be useless to try to explain this matter to the merely presumptuous, anyway. Politics have a large share in our doings. We boast several eloquent and exhaustive orators who do not let their talent lie hidden. Speaking of oratory, there was a fine specimen of diplomacy shown at the second term elections. Stirring speeches were made about new candidates and what they would do for the class—and then the diplomats sat down and elected the old officers over again. It is such things as these that aid the world’s progress. The Lunch-counter!!! What can we say of thee, beauteous vision, which bursts upon our fevered gaze when we are faint with awful spectres such as Flunks. Hunger. Quizzes, etc., etc. To think that for a paltry red ticket our appetites can be partially appeased, while for a few yellow or green ones we can truly say. ’’Fate cannot harm us. we have dined today.” And then our vacant periods! Miss West, that erstwhile dragon, will only smile and look pleased if the recreant is caught at the Lunch-counter. Callow freshmen and half-fledged sophomores may not discern glories at first sight; but our class knows a good thing when it sees it. That is why we all patronize the Lunch-counter. An event occurred in the High School last winter which has been kept silent in the hope that the perpetrators of this outrage might reform. But ” I he Cardinal has been watching them, carefully watching them, and thinks the time has come for disclosure. One Saturday morning, three or four young desperadoes entered the school building and stole from the icebox the ham which Miss West had placed there in readiness for the next week’s lunches. Of course from the first it was known that the guilty ones were Seniors, for two reasons: first, because only Seniors would descend to an act of such meanness, and secondly, because they take mathematics from Miss West, and would naturally be seeking for revenge. The Editors are only human, (they sit in Miss West’s room also) and if Miss West was the only one that received injury from this act, they might be willing to excuse it; but alas, this was r.ot so. In the so-called ham sandwiches for the next week. 15 the ham could only be discovered with a microscope. It has since been ascertained who these thieves are. They are all prominent members of the Senior class, but the next time they act indiscreetly they will be deprived of all their credits and all their meal-tickets. Oh, hear ye. Seniors.—BEWARE! We would suggest that no one even mention the twenty-minute period to us again. I w e n t y minutes, indeed! That is the most unkindest cut of all. We try to think of the twenty-minute period as a boon to suffering humanity.—a time to cram for the next four periods.—a time to settle one’s ruffled plumage, and hairpins,—a time to cheer up one’s inner man with candy and laughter and to keep the room-teacher wholesomely busy. What bliss!! So firmly is this dream rooted in our minds that we joyfully march to our rooms and begin to consider which of these things we will do first, when the bell intrudes itself upon our thoughts, curdling our bones to the marrow, and we pick up something or other, and vaguely wander off. our equilibrium upset for the rest of the semester. Our supply of endurance is getting low. The unexpected but inevitable has come to pass. We regret it. but alas, the truth cannot be disguised. T he sheep are separated from the goats from A Room down to Z. There is a wailing and a gnashing of teeth heard in our venerable and peaceful halls— and all hope is lost forever. No more is the music of gentle whispering heard in the twenty-minute period. All is an oppressing silence. There is no sound but that of breaking hearts. Romance has packed her effects and departed, shaking her fist at the exulting tyrants who showed her the door. The reason for this? Ah, Us! who can say? But we have our private opinion that there is either envy among the faculty of the heretofore happy condition of things or else too many of our fairest sons and daughters have suddenly joined the Alumni in couples and had the notice in the papers. Well, let begones by bygones. Romance has departed, but she will return by the back door. 16 EAST HIGH SCHOOL ORCHESTRA “Tis Passing Strange” A Dissertation on the Inefficiency of Mere Human Knowledge. We are an extraordinary class, there is no question about that. If all the world does not admit it. it is because of prejudice or jealousy. In future generations when historians arc searching for material for their books on the great men of these times, they will be hunting for facts about each and every one of us,—hence this history. When we were Freshmen, it is said that we were green. This does not now seem possible; but if we ever did take on that hateful hue. it was only a very light and pleasant variety, not the bright, offensive shade that we have noticed upon our younger classmen for the last two years. We learned many things in those first few months: among them, that no man might hope for heaven until he could write upon his passport. Unity. Mass, and Coherence; that periods and commas, and such light trifles, were still necessary, and had not been dispensed with at the gates of the High School as we had so fondly imagined. We learned to bow with grace to mighty Juniors; we learned that it was proper to be silent till we were spoken to. and not to advance opinions before those awe-inspiring beings who inhabited the lower halls. Prodigious, indeed, was the number of the facts we acquired in those first, short five months. Before we realized the fact, the second term had come. By that time the braver ones ameng us could walk by—even a Senior, without dropping our eyes to the ground and trembling lest he should ask us if we knew the way home, or if Mamma knew we were out. We were on the second floor now. We made out our own programs. We went where we liked, when we liked. Ah! we were mighty men1 We now knew all about a “mental point of view. We proudly marched up to our Latin verb tests conning rapidly, amo. amas. amat. (Surely we did not love the tests; it must have been the teacher.) At that sweet time we believed we could factor unfactorable quantities. Grecian history was our delight. How soon this happy dream flew by! There came one fateful day when a long line of us stood outside the office door, waiting because the Principal, on account of their very poor work, desired to see the following. How very, very long 18 those lists were some months! Such things as these were, however, but momentary’ checks in our course toward fame and glory. Nothing could stop our class long. As Sophomores, we took our places the next autumn. ’ Tis sad but true that our Geometry did sorely vex us. Altho we spent most of our time in our journey among the angles in wondering how long the present teacher would last, yet one of our class, after much endeavor, succeeded in disproving our pedagogue’s pet theory, that, If you go half the distance in the first step, half the remainder in the second, etc., you will never reach the wall toward which you journey. This statement our brilliant friend classed as absurd; and boldly walked across the room and threw himself against the wall. Strange to say. the teacher did not laud him for his brilliancy. Thus it is, prophets are ever without honor in their own country. Altho our class marched over Caesar’s bridge in fearful disarray; altho Milton’s ghosts did sadly haunt us; altho the restlessness of the Ostrogoths, the Visigoths, the Vandals, and the Huns did lead us into many a snare; yet the most of us survived. and stood, battered heroes, ready for our fourth term. Now it was that our dear class was scattered. Part, from fell necessity, remained just where they were; the more fortunate ones among us came to the first floor where we mingled with those wonderful and superhuman beings called Juniors. There is was, we learned that it was bright to skip and to write most plausible excuses for the same. We found how excellent a thing it was to have a room so near the outside door. We discovered how much better cake tastes when bought in the middle of the second period, than at recess. Many a very pleasant thing did those good Juniors teach us. About this time it seemed as if we were indeed the Noble Six Hundred. ’ On all sides of us, militant teachers operated huge cannon whose chief aim it -seemed to be to mow down as many of our stalwart companions as possible with huge round zeros. Ours not to make reply. Ours not to reason why. Ours but to do and die. Yes, there were indeed. Cannon to the right of us. Cannon to the left of us, Cannon behind us. But, with valor unimpaired, all that was left of us, but not. not the six hundred, marched into the Junior room with colors flying. 19 Then we reached the highest pinnacle of life, our third year. All sorts of new and wonderful things opened up before us. Like the Romans of old, we stood in the marketplace, listening to that old street preacher, Cicero, tear the feelings of the populace and the knowledge from our brains, to shreds. We mentally applauded Catiline for his conspiracies and only wished that we could have had a shot at that dear Kick-a-row before he had had a chance to write his much admircd(?) orations. Many of our worthy class-men were in danger of being carried to St. Peter stark mad after six weeks in this beloved study. Then we all of us became rank, crazy physicists, and walked the streets, and gazed upon the passing mob, and wondered where their fulcrums were. We lisped our a, b, c’s in French and German. We joyfully sang in foreign tongue verses to the effect that “Mary had a little lamb. We entered the beautiful realm of fiction.” took on the manners of the middle ages and manfully decided to carry off our ladies or to die. After a five months’ dose of Shakspeare. we closed its gloomy covers, resolved, beyond chance of change, never to open them again. All these fine things we learned; and yet when the time came we lacked. List ye. further, to the record of the class of Naughty Eight. Altho our class had learned so much, altho each one in it felt certain he was destined to be one of the princes of this world. yet I doubt if any one would have guessed our future greatness, had he visited our first class meeting. We started early in the fall, and this was fortunate, as we would, surely, never have decided about our pins and—other things, in less than one short year. We formed the worthy habit even in the beginning of deciding and re-deciding each point at three separate class-meetings. Our purpose was, that we might never lack business to transact—and to furnish amusement to the Seniors. No one has even hinted that we failed in the latter. Our first meeting was a very wordy one. We decided many weighty matters. With dignity magnificent, we argued about— what? Nobody there concerned himself with that. But at any rate, at the next meeting we decided that all which had gone before was illegal, so we started from the very beginning once more. In this way. you perceive, we could once more enjoy that over-powering feeling of setting a precedent for future ages. This time, we commenced in an entirely different way. We first accepted a constitution. Each separate one of us felt as if it were a case of “We, the people of the Lnited States in congress assembled. We saw, mentally, coming generations worshiping before it. and lusty operators reciting it on future Fourths. Therefore, with pomp and 20 circumstance, We, the class of Nineteen hundred eight. in the Junior room assembled, did ratify that weighty document. (Please forget for the moment, if possible, that it is copied verbatim from the one the Seniors have.) We next elected officers. The English Dictionary does not contain words half expressive enough to place their charms before you in a fitting manner. They are the superfine representatives of a superfine class. It was at this time that the talk of class pins first came to our lips. When children, our class must have been enthusiastic patrons of the neighborhood teeter-totter, for this now seemed to be our favorite sport. The class divided, and ranged itself on either end of the apparatus and then the sport commenced. First up, then down, then up, then down, ad infinitum. After two months of this exciting play the children on one end grew tired and jumped off. So those for class pins gained their hearts’ desire! After this wearing exercise coupled with a dance which netted the class the enormous sum of four dollars and sixty cents, our class appeared to lose all interest in life and showed no signs of returning vigor until the coming of the new term with its same old story of flunk, flunk, flunk. joggled it into a state of animation. Before the last word is spoken concerning our fifth term, two things a little outside the history, but well within the interest of our classmen, deserve notice here among the deeds of heroes and brave men. The first was a frolic for the class by one of its members on ghostly Hallowe’en. It is not exaggerating the facts, to say that an exciting time “was had. The second affair was a wonderful German Christmas Celebration given by two of our much admired teachers. Upon the festal evening, we arrived at the school at about five o’clock, our infant minds filled with roseate visions of rattles, rag babies, and other Christmas joys. After some unimportant preliminaries, during which we acted like children of about six who have never been away from their mothers before, we marched up the stairs announcing to the world, that Allc Jahre wieder kommt der Weihnachtsman.” Then we joined hands around the tree and bellowed forth, O Tannenbaum. Next we announced the enlightening fact that Morgen kommt der Wienachtsman. and later on we cased the minds of the waiting world by revealing the fact that even “Der Grosspapa was satisfied with what he received. After the awful suspense caused by this last, we settled down to the serious business of eating, at least we commenced to, with the best of intentions. But woe! what messes we received! It may easily be said that the like of them was never seen before on land or sea. If it hadn’t been so tragic, it would have been laughable to notice an unsuspecting 21 i child to take one of those pieces of “German Honey Board. called erroneously “German Honey Bread ; to sec him gnaw at it awhile; and then to see him throw it in wild despair over the banisters. Each new thing was worse than the last. I hey all looked so tempting too, but somehow or other, they always seemed to be filled with sawdust or glue. Finally, in desperation, we turned our thoughts and bodies homeward after seeing another brazen ido! display his clayish feet in the person of our worthy, and up to this time, revered Principal who actually sat upon a table and spun his top with only too evident enjoyment. At the close of the fifth term a more complete understanding of the survival of the fittest ' was brought home to our steadily decreasing numbers. After this, class meetings again came into the foreground and oratorial voices grew insistent in claiming attention. Considering our opportunities we behaved very well. At our first meeting in the new 'emester, many fine speeches were made. It was really very encouraging to see the great strides our class had made in practical politics. This is but another illustration of our continued preparations for the great positions we are to occupy in the future. One fine speech was delivered which related the great desire of one of our officers to lead Hie Simple Life in quiet retirement. How very unkind we were to elect him again when his friends were so anxious to relieve him of the burden of office-holding. The meeting continued, officer after officer being reelected, notwithstanding many long speeches made by the opposition. Their friends were probably anxious also to save them from the cares of public life. You can always count upon our class to do the right thing at the proper time, however. But the crowning of this our most brilliant year will be the Junior-Senior ball. Our class of forty-se cn, under the leadership of its small social committee of seventeen, forsook all other pursuits while the plans for it were brewing. Then it was that harassed youths might be seen, studying with troubled looks, long lists of the names of the fair sex. To take or not to take, —that was the question. And then, at once to fill out our programs so that we might dance with every loved one present and yet so arrange it that our “loved one might tread a measure with every cavalier she knew. An old sage has said that Nothing is impossible ; but after that wearing experience, one is inclined to say with Solomon, “Wisdom, how foolish a thing it is! There was another distressing feature connected with that Ball—a sordid, moneyed one. We started out last fall with one fixed purpose which was to make money for the Junior Ball. Tis passing strange”! That seems to be the one thing our class does not 22 know how to do. When we started in to count up our funds for that wondrous ball, we found—Oh. let's change the subject! Of the actual doings of our class. I have left the most important until the last, this is the undertaking, achievement, rather, for which our Junior year will go down as a red-letter one in the annals of the school,—the publication of “ The Cardinal, the fust Annual ever published at East High School. We ha e tried to make it worthy and representative of the class which publishes it. If we have done this our highest hopes are realized. As one looks back over these passing years time naturally separates itself into two great divisions, “before and “after'' taking—Physics! How simple would be this Universe and how easy a thing to live in it. if only one might go back to those comfortable days of ignorance. Once, in the beautiful Long Ago it was such a pleasant thing to walk in the warm Sunshine and to consider how lovely a thing it was; until one fateful day. without warning, we were cruelly informed that it was this erstwhile pleasant Sunshine that caused all the horrible railroad wreeb. “For.” said our teacher, does not the Sun shine and make the ferns and trees grow? Does not the Sun in turn cause them to wither away and die. Does not the Sun, year after year, bury them deeper and yet deeper) And thus, by a multi-replication of this same process in due time form a great coal held? Who will deny me when I say that it is the Sun’s glancing rays that causes the discovery of this bed? Who will dare to assert that it is not this very coal which propels huge locomotives with their precious loads of human life? Nay. more, look and be convinced—see yon weary telegraph operator, sleeping at his post, probably in this selfsame deadly Sunshine while those doomed trains dash onward to destruction!” At this point, we. carried aloft on this train of eloquence and overcome at this nefarious deed, rose up. and stamped our little feet, shook our puny fists and cried. Begone, thou hated Sunshine!” Laughing aside, however. Physics is a very epitome of the Junior Class,—Physics, that all embracing, all inclusive branch of mortal learning; Physics, the fascinating and elusive; Physics, the always new and ever interesting, the climax of the learning won by Juniors! Thru three long years now. we have worked and played together. Thru three long years, we have striven together in friendly rivalry, and just as the constant rubbing of the water makes the smooth symmetric pebbles, so constant fellowship has made us what we are today, the greatest Junior organization in the History of the School, the brilliant, myriad- sided. multi-talented CLASS OF NINETEEN HUNDRED EIGHT. — Earle C. Bailie 23 My First Skip “Oh! Pshaw!” Is that the best you can do?” “Well, run along, little girl, we men don't want babies playing with us. These and various other taunting remarks were hurled at me by my brother and the other members of the Texas Cowboys Base-ball Team one afternoon in May about eight years ago. when, acting as a substitute I had made a particularly bad play. I tried hard to be “one of the bunch. but when one had a terribly big bump on one’s forehead from being a Texas steei for one of these same cowboys a short time before, life seemed unbearable. How could I make those boys, especially Jim. my brother, respect and honor me? The hammock was empty, and. lying in the warm sunlight, I began to consider ways and means. “Talk about your chivalry and gallantry!” I muttered angrily to myself; lor my mind was stored with old world talcs of knights who had no other wish than to don armour and fight bravely for fair maidens. I had once suggested the idea to Jim. but the scorn with which he treated it. had made me drop the subject forever. What should I do? How could I make those boys respect me? Oh, of course!-------------------1 would play hookey, as the boys called it. Didn’t they all do that? Many a scornful word had I received, just on the strength of not doing that. My plans were quickly made. I simply wouldn't go to school the next day. Should I go by myself? Well.--------------- yes, after a moment's doubtful hesitation I decided in the affirmative. The next morning I started off as usual, with my lunch-basket under one arm and my primer under the other. It would never do to have my mother grow suspicious. I was undecided where to go. At first I couldn’t think at all, then I had a brilliant thought. On the outskirts of town there was a thick growth of wild flowers and vines, and best of all I was never allowed to go there. Simply alive with insects, my mother had said firmly, when, on previous occasions. I had begged permission. I trudged bravely along, consoling myself for the long walk by a vision of the lovely spot I had chosen for a retreat. and reveling in the thought of my naughtiness. It was lovely; the grass was cool and green and soft, and the birds were singing sweetly in the near vicinity. Everything was so peaceful and quiet that I rejoiced again that I was there. 24 But what could I do? Looking around for something to engage my attention I chanced upon my primer and began to read aloud, in a childish sing-song voice. The golden rod is yellow. The corn is turning brown. The trees in apple orchards. With fruit are bending down. Then it came upon me how absurd it was to be reading autumn poetry in spring. It was as bad as school, so I gave that up as a bad occupation. The sun was warm, the sound of the birds and bees drowsy, and before I knew it I was fast asleep. Sister, don't move! don’t stir! be perfectly still! I could almost fancy I was still asleep, yet I had heard that command too often, sometimes from an Indian, sometimes from a cow-boy, to dare disobey it; so I lay perfectly still, only opening my eyes for a moment in fright. For that moment I saw perfectly, then before my terrified vision everything seemed to swim. But that one instant was enough; I had seen a scorpion, most feared of all Texas insects, poised in midair, about to spring upon my bare little arm. Jim. playing hookey likewise, and happening by. had seen it too. Never pausing to think of personal danger the brave boy threw himself upon me and received the sting. The rest is always rather hazy in my mind. I dimly remember being carried home, and a long, long, afternoon when my brother’s life was despaired of. for the scorpion’s sting is fatal. How I hated myself for skipping.—and most of all for ever daring to doubt Jim’s chivalry! How he pulled through I have never known; but often in later years I have wondered if God in his great mercy and kindness did not spare him to us that I might make amends. That night up in Jim's room, where he was lying, white and spent, but safe at last, I buried my head on mother’s shoulder and sobbed out all my woes. My father waited until I was more quiet, and then, clasping Jim’s hand in his, he quoted softly, with a little catch in his voice. Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for a friend. —Kathleen Lee Murphy. 25 I BOYS’ GLEE CLUB The Junior Alphabet A is for Annual, hear ye and read. When you’ve bought one, yet another you’ll need. B begins Barnard. Bailie and Brown, Beware! Cur menagerie cometh to town. C stands for Caesar, and Cicero dear. They couldn’t scare Rome, so they had to come here. D is for Dreams of the lunch-hungry scholar. Purchased by means of the almighty dollar. E stands for Evans, to whom we all go. To have a good time, and to learn Cicero. F is for Fall and its Football careers. When our mouths are filled sweetly with fudge and with cheers G stands for Geometry, we've all had our fill. Specially those who had Marston, McNown, Fisher, and Hill. H is for Happiness, Halos, and Hash; To gain these, oh Juniors, pray do nothing rash. I is for Icicle, no rare fruit. I ween. But best when dished up with Fourth English and cream. 27 J stands for Juniors, the pride of East High. Whose deeds will still live when long years have gone by. K stands for Kickerow, whose tireless brain. Has cruelly stuffed ours with Pompey and Pain, L is for Lunch, an elaborate one. The prices all range from three cents to one. M stands for Minus, which you get when you fail; No Junior ever got one,—’tis a sweet tale! N stands for Nicholas, we’ll weep when he’s gone: “ Tis an interesting experiment, but we must hasten on.’’ O is for O’Haras, who the Senior class run. They hold all its offices, and also its ’mon.’ P stands for Plus—better when doubled. With the getting of this no Junior is troubled. Q is for Quizzes, which monthly we dread. But sometimes in Physics we get Lecture instead. R is for Rooters, a right gallant team. Whose mission on earth is to bellow and scream. S stands for Strohmeicr. and Shillock so fair. For Shakspcare, and likewise 4 at - 28 I stands for Teachers, whom we love every one; And they love us Juniors-------like fun. U stands for Unity, each loyal class Loves it and its partners. Coherence and Mass. V is for Vincent, who always is here. Perhaps soon it will be for his Delphia dear. W is for Webster, Miss West, and Work; We fly from the first two. the last one wc shirk. X —Unknown quantity—rare double-plus. Unknown to all others but angels and Us. Y is for Yelling we make at a game. The victors?—Oh. well, they are always the same. Z is for Zeros, but no cause for dismay. The Juniors will triumph forever and aye. You can always tell a Senior,—but you can’t tell him much. JUitr W Caw ■ H 7m j f 'lb. 29 The Class of ’07 Way. way back in the dark ages the present Seniors were termed Freshmen. They were, as is the custom with Freshmen, absurdly young and absurdly inexperienced. They didn’t know Mr. Fyar.s from Mr. Couper, nor Miss Shillock from Miss Roe. They wandered cheerfully about University avenue, searching for Klettenberg’s bakery. Yet even at this early stage the '07ers gave evidence of unusual intelligence and promise. One of their number actually printed a paper, and boldly launched it upon the Fligh School sea, to battle with the winds of Senior disfavor and scorn. It was a brave little ship, and it sailed serenely along its course, cheered and beloved by the students. Can’t you remember your pride and joy when the ’’Limpet’’ published that article on “Advance in Art’’ that was regarded so approvingly by Miss Jeter? And your family at home beamed proudly at you when you modestly announced at the supper table that an article of yours had appeared in print, in a magazine of wide repute and fame. This Freshman year was the time when all the girls took algebra of Mr. Fisher, and the boys were remarkably interested in Latin, which was taught them by Miss Harris. I he ’07 Freshmen looked upon life as a grave and serious thing: in short, a kind of battle. This was evidenced by their struggles in algebra, their attacks of English, and at the end their triumphal entry into Sophomordom. At the beginning of the Sophomore epoch the ’07 girls experienced quite a shock. Oh, the horror of being called Miss Smith by Mr. Couper! The embarrassment and mortification of that first day, when he called insistently for Miss Smith, while you sat quite still in your seat, anxiously waiting for Miss Smith to rise. And then as it dawned on you. the sinking feeling at your heart, as you said meekly, Do you mean me? and rose trembling to your feet, while the Seniors in the room giggled appreciatively. The Sophomore year was not marked by any signal event. It was a year when the ’07ers applied themselves industriously to their books, and advanced surely, tho quietly, in all directions toward prominence. It was in the Junior year that the class burst forth into all its fame and glory. The ’06 Seniors noted with alarm that the Juniors increased daily in power and renown. When the class was duly, organized, and each member boasted a pin, there was no limit to the Juniors’ pride and joy. 30 These Junior days were signalized by many important events. The Seniors had watched their underclassmen’s progress with increasing wrath, and when one day the Junior boys appeared in blue and gold socks, the bomb burst. The battles waged at recess were fast and furious. The warriors turned up at their fifth period classes weary, tardy, and rather the worse for wear. One day, however the Junior boys were sent to their homes at the beginning of school, with orders to remove the offending hose. But the Juniors were nothing daunted by the untimely death of their gorgeous socks. It was not long before a challenge to the Seniors appeared upon the bulletin board, of strange and curious nature. Taking pity on the Seniors’ helplessness and rage, the Juniors had kindly changed the mode of warfare from a pitched battle to a harmless game of tid-aledy winks, to be played under unusual conditions. The Seniors, so the challenge read, would be afforded a police protection, and no loud talking to affright them would be allowed. Somehow this challenge was not popular. Its consequences were sudden and dire. I he notice was removed from the board, and one of the Junior boys lived, at home for several days. The Seniors and the Juniors seemed to realize, after this, that if comfort is desired, people living under the same roof must dwell in peace. It was also in this notab’e year that each Junior discovered latent and unsuspected mathematical ability. Under the influence of Mr. Nicholas each ’07er became a renowned and wondrous physicist. The hours spent in the laboratory, the ceaseless repitition of interesting experiments, the worn-out books and the still more worn-out Juniors, all gave evidence of their untiring zeal and enthusiasm for physics. What time the Junior boys could steal from physics they devoted to athletics, and the excitement over the school field-meet waxed strong. No '07er will ever forget the joy of that night, after the long afternoon when the Junior boys carried off the honors and were victorious over the ambitious Seniors. Aside from studies and athletics, the Juniors did rot neglect the social side of life. The Junior-Senior reception in the spring was the result of much labor and thought, for the Juniors were not rich.—in anything but brains and ingenuity. However, the reception was a success, and fully repaid for all the time and strength spent in preparation. The third year with its fun. its business and its studying—in other words, its physics. —went all too fast. June came before the Juniors had time to think, and with the exit of the graduating class the Juniors became Seniors. Ihcy turned from the joys and delights 31 of luniordom to the responsibility that comes with the last year of the four spent in High School. In spite of being Seniors, and grave and dignified as the term implies, the fourth-year student found they were still young enough to enjoy life. The first duty of the boys was, of course, to educate the new Juniors and teach them their place. It did not take long to accomplish this. There is not much said about those strifes, for the Seniors do not deem them worthy of mention, and the Juniors—well, have conveniently forgotten them, perhaps. But the Juniors look uncomfortable and the Seniors look wise when a certain emblem of the third year is mentioned. The days of football were thrilling and full of excitement, and when the team came off victorious with the city championship, the delight of the High School knew no bounds. The Seniors hope that next year’s team may do as well, altho with the exit of the graduating class go many of the prominent heroes. The class play was next in turn. It was more work than anyone who has never tried such things can possibly suspect, and if it had not been for the untiring help of Mr. Couper and Mr. Pendleton the Senior play might not have been any sort of success. The ’07 class offers to Mr. Couper and Mr. Pendleton the unbounded thanks which is their due. They also wish to thank those Juniors who insistently haunted the auditorium, and so materially aided the progress of the play. The social life during Senior year was especially delightful. The Juniors have much to anticipate. Altho this last year has surpassed all others in glory and renown, the truly eventful and wonderful days lie ahead. There is much to be done in the few weeks that remain. With class day, and baccalaureate, and lastly graduates to close this chapter in our lives, what more could one wish? The Seniors hope the Juniors will enjoy their last year as much as the ’07ers have enjoyed this. East High School has given the Seniors much, more than they can ever repay. As the Seniors leave it for the joys and responsibilities of college and university, it is with more than one pang of regret. One thing is certain. East Side High School may always rest assured of the loyalty and love of the class of 1907. —Margaret B. Clark, Valedictorian. 32 MR. NICHOLAS 33 We Hasten On, or FORTY MINUTES IN PHYSICS. A Tragedy in One Act. Personae. Mr. Nicholas Earle Bailie. Assistant Edwin Brown, Assistant Reginald Van Cleve Clarice Hertig l ime—Period of Your Physics Class. Janet Rankin Clarence O’Gordon David West Ruth Knowlton Class Scene—Physics recitation room: Table loaded with flasks, glass tubes, and sundry' other implements. Mr. Nicholas stands behind the table arranging glasses, pouring liquids, now and then disappearing into laboratory store-room. Mr. Nich. (Filling long glass tube: soliloquizes.) Atmospheric pressure strong— hin-m—shown by Torricellian experiment—hm-m-m—by glass tube and mercury. (Spills a little.) Careful, there! Steady. Browrn! You’re wasting that mercury’; it’s very' expensive. (Glances around.) Ha! I forgot. Brown’s not here. Oh. well, a trifle more or less won’t matter. (Pours more.) Now. as the tube is completely filled, we will pioceed to (inverts tube in dish of mercury) finish the experiment. (Stands back to admire the result.) Ah! very good! (Abstractedly.) This is a very interesting experiment. but we must hasten on! (Steps to store-room door and calls.) Brown! Bailie! Bailie! Bro-own! Here, you fellows! (Footsteps heard advancing.) Voice. Yes, sir, we’re coming. 34 (Enter Edwin Brown and Earle Bailie.) Brown. What do we lecture about today. Mr. Nicholas? Mr. Nich. I thought it would be best to inform you that I have altered my plans somewhat. Several students were in here this morning, complaining that we are having too many lectures lately. Who were they now? Let me recollect? Ah. yes. two of our most promising pupils. Mr. Selden Brown and Mr. Leonard Rollins. They observed that they hadn’t had the chance to recite nearly so often as formerly.—and I agree with them entirely. So prepare for half-lecture and half-recitation today. (Boys look blank.) Brown. Mr. Nicholas. I thought that— (Bell rings: sound of doors opening and pupils scattering overhead.) Mr. Nich. The last bell! Excuse me. boys, but the bell has just rung and I must leave you. If I stayed longer, the pupils might find me here. Take my advice, my young friends, and never make a departure from habit. I never do. It’s very upsetting. I must.—yes.—I must speak to Mr. Cook a moment; but never fear. I shall return presently. (Exit.) Brown. Well! How do you like this lecture business? Bailie. The worst of it is that I have already prophesied lecture to some few dozen and there’ll be trouble ahead when they find out. (Enter class in groups and singly.) D. West. (Advancing.) Well, what’s the matter with you fellows? You look murderous. Has my lady ceased to smile, or is Mr. Nicholas going to hang a couple of vou as an experiment? Bailie. Worse than that, as you'll confess when you hear what it is. West. Oh. never trouble trouble till trouble troubles you. I don’t. Brown. Well, what do you say to recitation today? Chorus. Why. I haven’t looked at my lesson! West. Say. now, no fooling. You don’t mean that, do you? Brown. This is no subject to joke about. It’s gospel truth. What I want to know is, are we going to put up with this thing right along? Are we going to have our rights, the rights of a lecture once a week and a flunk the day after, which belong to every self-respecting physics student,—I say, are we going to have these rights torn away from us without a struggle? 35 Bailie. Hear! hear! revenge! C. Hertig. (Face filled with inspiration.) A plan! a plan! I have a plan! Chorus. Let’s hear it. (All gather around closely: talk in whispers: now and then glance toward door.) Bailie. Well, I guess that will do. All carry out your parts now. (Enter Mr. Nicholas; all disperse to seats.) Mr. Nich. I believe we are all here. Is anyone absent? Who sits next to you. Mr. Brown? Brown. Booth. Mr. Nich. Ah, yes, Mr. Booth. Oh, Booth dropped three months ago. Now, since all the rest of us seem to be present we will proceed to give a short lecture. The first thing I wish to show you is the experiment of the Magdeburg hemispheres. (Picks them up.) You observe that they do not stick together now. I merely twist them together—so—and apply the air-pump,—Mr. Bailie, turn on that faucet—thus making a vacuum. Now. we’ll observe what happens. West. (Yawns: grasps chair on either side and rocks himself gently back and forth: sings softly to tune. Clementine.) I am waiting. I am waiting To be sent— Mr. Nich. (Observing him.) Mr. West, you are not in an attitude of attention. Sit up, sir. There is nothing so conducive to thought, Mr. West, as an upright position. You know, my friends, that the physical position which a person takes, necessarily places him in a corresponding mental attitude. If you force a smile uppn your countenance, it is almost impossible not to feel like smiling; and if you wear such a frown as Brown, here, for instance, you are sure to have angry and vengeful thoughts. Brown. (Mutters aside) That’s natural. Mr. Nich. Ah, now, I believe there is a sufficient vacuum. (Unscrews air-pump.) Now you preceive how difficult it is to pull the hemispheres apart,—all due to atmospheric pressure. Why, if I fasten this to the ceiling, I could hang two or three of you upon it with the greatest ease: a great advantage, you see. I have been advised to apply to the government for a patent upon it. It’s a great labor-saving device. Well, this is a very pretty little experiment, but we must hasten on. Let us prepare for the next. (Brings out flasks.) 36 West. (Yawns: recommences song and rocking.) I am waiting. I am waiting To be sent out of the room. Dreary waiting, dreary waiting. Send me soon, oh send me soon! (Rocks a trifle too far, and descends sharply on Mr. O’Gordon’s toes.) C. C. W. O’Gordon. Wow! Mr. Nich. Did you speak, Mr. West? West. Wh-why, I was just saying that that was a very remarkable experiment. Mr. Nich. Ah, so it is. so it is. I wonder that a person could make such a creditable remark who is so fond of sitting upon his shoulder-blades. I would have you remember one thing. West, that will help you along in life, that will assist you to use your brain with greater ease, that will enable you to acquire a greater proficiency in that unsurpassed and all-inclusive branch of human knowledge, Physics. Remember, I say. West, that you are a biped! Bailie. Ready, Mr. Nicholas. Mr. Nich. Ah!—We will now perform the 1 orriccllian experiment, one which proves a law of the greatest consequence,— (Drops voice) Brown, get me that flask yonder; no, not that one, the one with the spout. (Pours in mercury: resumes oratorical voice.) One which shows very well the enormous pressure of the atmosphere.—some more mercury, Mr. Bailie. 1 carefully fill this tube, and— don’t drop that mercury. Mr. Bailie; there is fourteen dollars and thirty-two cents worth in that vessel. I just bought a new supply for the school.—Now, we will proceed to invert the tube—in this way. Observe the result; notice the fall. Ah, this is a most interesting experiment but we must hasten on. (Seats himself: opens book and runs finger down names.) Mr. Nich. What is a fluid? Mr.—Mr.-a-Miss Hertig! (Leans back and rubs hands together expectantly.) Miss Hertig. (Startled from dreams: stares wildly.) Wh-why, I'm not doing anything. What did you speak to me for? Mr. Nich. (In deep voice.) I asked you. Miss Hertig. to give me a definition of a fluid; but if you cannot comply with my request, let us pass on—to—Miss Knowlton. Miss Knowlton. A fluid is that which—is anything which—mm-m---------- 37 Mr. Nich. Exactly so. A fluid is anything which flows, is it not? Yes; very good. Miss Knowlton. Let me impress it upon your minds, my dear young friends, that a fluid is anything which flows, and everything which flows is a fluid. Do not let yourselves be misguided by well-meaning but ignorant persons who try to make you believe that a fluid will not flow. They are mistaken, my friends, sadly mistaken. They are absolutely ignorant of all principles of that grand and noble science. Physics. So bear in mind that anything which flows is a fluid. Who can give me an example of a fluid? Ah. here is a young man in the front row—Mr. Van Cleve? R. Van Cleve. (Having just been awakened in time to hear the last part.) D you say that anything that floats is a fluid? Then Ivory Soap’s a fluid. It floats. (Class giggles.) Mr. Nich. (Aside) Can this be true? Ah. the profound impression I thought to have made upon their young minds! (To class.) This is. indeed, a great disappointment. I hope and trust that the rest of you would not make such a sad mistake, but I cannot stop to find out. The time is short and we must hasten on; but I sincerely hope, young people, that you will make no more such errors. The shock to my mental system is terrible, for my nerves are naturally very sensitive. I fear that two or three more such shocks would completely unbalance me. Oh. that we may avert such a calamity from the East Side High School! I w'ish now to hear one good, round, all-inclusive recitation to settle my shattered nerves. Upon whom shall I call? Ah. there is one true physicist present, upon whom I know I can rely, who will not fail me. Define a rectangular hyperbola. Miss Rankin. Miss Rankin. (Rising confidently.) A rectangular hyperbola is a hyperbola that is rectangular—that is. its sides are perpendicular. No. I mean!— Mr. Nich. (Anxiously) Don’t get nervous. Miss Rankin. Be calm! Collect yourself. Miss Rankin. A rectangular hyperbola (gathering firmness) is. I meant to say. a great exaggeration expressed at right angles. (Sits down in triumph.) Mr. Nich. What is this I hear? Do my ear-drums deceive me? This surely can not be Miss Rankin, the sometime-to-be great physicist, who expounded molecular, corpuscular, and atomical attraction in such a marvelous manner—that none of the others understood it? Alas. alas, but it is too true! Never again will I place confidence in a young physicist. Rather let me expect to be disappointed, for then it is certain that I 38 shall not be disappointed in being disappointed. (First bell rings, Mr. Nicholas starts.) Ah, one more recitation, this time from someone whose answer I can foresee. Mr. O'Gordon, define surface tension. C. C. W. O’Gordon. (Hesitatingly) I don’t know whether I can or not. Mr. Nich. Ah! that is the answer I expected. I certainly was not mistaken this time in— C. C. W. O’Gordon. But I will try. In a liquid the surface is physically different from the interior. The molecules composing the surface are not under the same conditions as those within the liquid. The latter are attracted equally in all directions by the surrounding molecules, while those composing the surface layer are attracted downward and laterally, but not upward. The result is that this layer is compressed and tends to contract, hence, surface tension. Mr. Nich. (Stiffens: eye becomes vacant.) You too—you too—you too. No success, all failure. No, no! All success, no failure! (Clasps hand to forehead: voice becomes low and pathetic.) Bring me the camphor. Brown. There is a strange, peculiar feeling in my head. Oh. it shrinks! it shrinks! My head! Oh! (Brown opens store-room door, points sternly. Mr. Nicholas’ gaze follows motion.) Mr. Nich. Oh. blessed darkness! Enfold me. sweet oblivion! (Darts into storeroom: door closed by Brown.) (Last bell rings.) Class (rises) This is a very interesting experiment, but we must hasten on! [Exeunt.] — Bertha L. Sheffield 39 The First Words of Our Honored Principal Of course everyone knew that William was an extraordinary baby. No one could doubt that who looked upon him as he lay in his cradle gazing out upon the surrounding world with his look of profound wisdom. He was the most wonderful child that ever li ed. That was admitted by all. but, why then. argued his sisters and his cousins and his aunts, why did William not talk. Here was a fine child, perfectly developed in all respects except one—he did not peep a single word. Although now fully six months old, he had never lisped even one gurgling Goo. which any fond relative could interpret as “Papa or Mamma.” Throughout this time of doubt one worshipping aunt stoutly maintained that when William did speak, his little words of wisdom would amply compensate for this period of waiting. On several occasions the aforesaid aunt called the family into hasty as- sembly, thinking that the long looked-for day had come. But each was a false alarm, baby merely looked wise and said—nothing. At last the red-letter day arrived—William was old—twelve months old, and he celebrated. With eager swiftness the doting auntie called her fellow worshippers. They gazed with awe upon the remarkable infant. He seemed restless; squirmed and wriggled almost like a speaking baby! He puckered his lips. He opened them and out came a bubble. Another moment elapsed. I he adoring ones gathered closer. You could have heard the proverbial pin drop. The babe appeared yet more agitated. He threw aside the covering—half rose in his little crib, gazed wisely, eagerly, from side to side drew a deep breath and—spoke the words of his blessed English Trinity.— UNITY, MASS AND COHERENCE. 40 Earle C. Bailie My First Call The young hopeful who has just experienced the feelings about to be exposed in this essay will no doubt characterize its author, a hare-brained seeker of renown who is obliged, for the sake of a paltry idea or two. to dig up experiences better left buried. Admitting this to be true, let us proceed to the sacrifice of those tender feelings. This is a very interesting experiment but we must hasten on! It happened in my early youth.—in my Freshman year. At the time. I was afflicted with the curse of bashfulness. Although it doesn’t sound like a Freshman. I considered myself the most ill-favored runt that ever trod the earth. Along about this time I was invited to a party, and having accepted and arrived, clad, among other things, in my first pair of long trousers, the creases of which were the pride of my heart, I became enamoured of a young lady. I managed, by making myself infernally rude and boorish, to stay by her the greater part of the evening, and whenever possible to force some of my monotonous conversation upon her. By my leech-like tactics I managed to secure the privilege of escorting the young maiden home. My attentions evidently were not altogether objectionable to the object of my newly discovered adoration—or perhaps I am a little rash in stating that my overtures were not distasteful to her—there are a thousand and one reasons for her behavior— perhaps she was unpopular—perhaps she had a disposition that could not be unkind to anyone—perhaps it was the effervescent effects of the party not yet fallen to the pale staleness of the morning after—perhaps it was the moonlight, for moonlight has a strange effect—perhaps it was the box of candy which I bought, trembling at my boldness, at a corner drug store, where we transferred—perhaps it was a combination of all these causes, who can tell? The fact remains, she asked me to call; and I—I. the bashful and ungainly —accepted. The fact that no date was set for my appearance made it infinitely worse. The effect of the party and of the subsequnt trip homeward soon wore off. and before I had fairly begun to indulge in the dreams and to construct the air-castles incident to such an occurrence, all my ardor was quenched and my air-castles destroyed by the thought that I must make my first call. Oh. the exquisite agony of the next few days! No one. who has not been there, can 41 conceive of the terror with which I shrank from encountering the stern parental frown. I imagined the polite silence that would be observed by all the family and the hush as they awaited my flow' of conversation, which was about the same as that of most bashful boys. Never since 1 have been sent to the wood shed to await the arrival of father have I undergone such agony. The experience of going forth to cut a willow bough to be used in the hands of the Powers That Be was as play compared to the experience which now confronted me. Going thru the woods alone, in the dark, or having my face and thoroly scrubbed by my mother—experiences which I had considered not to be equalled on earth—faded before this imagined horror of my first call. (If anyone doubts the truth of these statements, let him remember that I was bashful). I had no one to whom I could go and expect anything but the crudest laughter, and laughter of this kind I felt was unbearable. And so I learned that most valuable of all lessons, which a man or boy must learn by himself—and altho I didn't put it into any such form, the conviction was nevertheless there—that to learn to swim one must jump into deep waters. So I called on the girl, and found myself to my surprise, and somewhat to my indignation. completely overshadowed by two other admirers. —Roland Peteler. Oh, I don't work for money. And I don’t work for fame; But still it’s awfully funny. That I get all the Blame. Oh. I don’t work for Peter. And I don’t work for Paul; So short I'll cut the story. For I don’t work at all. 42 By David West (per B.) A Bird Friend Aside from school, the thing that gave me the most pleasure during the past winter was the bird lunch-counter situated just outside the south window of my room. It was patronized by several different kinds of birds, but the most frequent visitors were the White-breasted Nuthatches. If I chanced to be near the window when the birds were feeding on the counter. I always moved about quietly and made no quick motions, so as not to frighten them. After a while, they became accustomed to my presence, and nearly all their fear of me disappeared. 4) One of the nuthatches became very tame, and while I worked at the window, she would feed at the counter, paying little or no attention to me. Later I got her to eat from my hand, and took many photographs of her while doing so. One afternoon, instead of studying Cicero, as I had intended. I spent the time feeding the nuthatch. No matter where I placed my hand, whether on the lunch-counter, in the air, or on the window-sill, she hopped upon it and fed. Perhaps you might ask: “Why did the bird take food from my hand instead of getting it elsewhere?” This is explained by the fact that in winter food for birds is scarce, and it was hunger that made them so bold. It is lack of food that drives the birds south; only the more hardy ones face the cold. I kept a supply of food, consisting of suet. meat, cracked corn, nuts and a variety of seeds, placed where the birds could easily find it; and so they came regularly to feed. From the first of December to the middle of February, scarcely a day passed without many visits from one or both of a pair of nuthatches. “Neddy and “Teddy are the names I gave to the two nuthatches, the latter being much the tamer, and the one with whom I had all, or nearly all, of the friendly chats. I Teddy, as the other nuthatches, had the characteristic habit of storing away all the food she could get. This instinct seems ever-present with them, even more so. I think, than with any other birds. One time she took a piece of meat from my hand, but, instead of flying away with it as usual, she tucked it away in a crack in the lunch-counter. Then she hopped back on my hand and again began feeding. Upon another occasion, she took a nut and tucked it between two of my fingers. Then, taking a piece in her bill, she hopped up on my arm and hid it between my coat and sweater, instead of flying to the tree and hiding it in the bark. Perhaps Teddy's cutest trick was the following: She was on the counter. ancJ the window closed; I held my hand, containing some nuts, down close to the window-pane. and it caught her eye. She stopped all operations on the counter, hopped towards me, right up close to the window, and actually craned her neck to see what was in my hand. These little incidents together with many others, occurred during the last week in January, but by the first of February. Teddy had taken another hop towards civilization. —she had learned to come all the way into my room and feed from my hand. She hopped in under the window on the telegraph table which is built on the inside windowsill, then on my hand. After eating a while, she usually took food and flew to the tree 45 outside. I was trying to study when I heard a little tap outside. This time, the window was closed. I looked up, and there was Teddy peeking into my room. As she was so persistent in her efforts to get food. I placed some on the telegraph table, and opened the window. She came into the room took some food, and flew out with it; then back again, repeating this many times. In my diary, under the date of February second. I find the following: “It was just a week ago today that I had my first friendly chat with Teddy at close range. Today the chats were extended, and as it was cold outside, they were carried on in my room. Teddy calling of her own accord. It is not usual for a lady to call upon a gentleman; but as we all know. Teddy is a bird, and perhaps on this account we can excuse her for not obeying the rules of polite society. “ Today I brought my camera into play. I had taken in all the food that was on the counter, and was waiting, bulb in hand, for a chance to ‘shoot.’ Teddy lit on the counter, and hopped straight thru the open window upon the telegraph table. There she stayed for a little while, looking around the room, apparently admiring the pictures. Contrary to my expectations, she flew to my dresser four feet away, hopped about on it. and began eating at a lump of suet I had forgotten was there. In a few moments, she took a piece in her bill, gave an indignant look at her image in the looking glass, and flew out of the window. A little later Neddy came into the room and thot he would stay awhile. He stayed so long that he forgot the way he came, and in trying to make his escape, flew against the window several times. As he was my guest, and wanted to go. 1 thought it no more than polite to show him the way out. So I opened the window wide, pulled the curtain down over the glass; out flew Teddy, unhurt. “Later in the afternoon, I put some suet on a chair and set it about four feet from the window. The bird came in and fearlessly ate despite the glaring face of the camera only two feet away. At the request to 'look pleasant,' in the form of a sharp whistle, he posed for several pictures. My room was converted into a photographic studio, but all my customers came in thru the window! He has come into the room several times since and flown against the glass, so now I do not leave my window open while at school, for fear of his coming in and injuring himself. 47 These little incidents and experiences with the nuthatches, and with Teddy in particular, go to show what can be done with a bird when its confidence is won. Teddy became confident that she would not be harmed or even frightened if she came near me. and therefore she ate from my hand with very little fear. In every instance, with no exception. the bird was in a position where she could at any time fly at will, and at no time was she lied or any obstacle put in the way of her freedom. I feel that the small sum spent for food for the winter birds was a mighty good investment, and that the time used in feeding and taming the birds was by no means wasted, altho doubtless it appeared otherwise to my Cicero teacher. —Edwin C. Brown 46 The Class of ’09 On entering the East Side High School, a member of the class of 09 was informed by a Senior that ’09 would never add much to the glory of East High in an athletic way on account of the size of its members. The Freshie replied freshly that while his class might not do much in athletics, his classmates would not be wearing mustaches when they received their diplomas. Nevertheless, ’09 seems to have done its share in school affairs. One of the members of this year’s basket-ball team was a Sophomore, while the rowing crew of last winter had five members who swore by '09. The Sophomores are well represented in the musical organizations and this year’s debating team. Last but not least, the Sophomores organized the renowned Philomathean Literary Society, which has just postponed its next meeting for the twenty-third time. The class of ’09 has yet two years to make good as to athletics; and, as many of its members are growing, it has great hopes for the future. • To the Infants of 1910— Greeting: The class of ’09, animated by the kindliest of sentiments, has, at the expense of much lime and thought, formulated the following rules for the guidance of your toddling footsteps, at this, the outset of your school career. A strict adherence to these precepts will assure to you the admiration of your fond parents, the respect of your friends, and the love of the Sophomore class, which will, with thoughtful, tender care stand ever by to guard you from the world’s hard knocks. Attend. Infants! ! 1. Respect for elders and those in authority is one of childhood’s most charming traits. Therefore take off your hats to all Sophmores. and while in their presence maintain a deferential silence. 2. Derbys and button-shoes as articles of childrens’ attire are extremely unbecoming and are therefore strictly prohibited. 3. A sufficiency of plain, wholesome fare and of sleep, arc strongly recommended. “Early to bed and early to rise. Makes little Freshies healthy and wise. 49 4. Avoid late hours and rich food, especially fudge. Heed and profit by these precepts, dear children, that you may grow up to be great and noble men like those who subscribe themselves— Paternally yours. The Class of 09. In our extensive research among some papers dealing with the past ages, we discovered a diary containing a few anecdotes about the members of our class. We thought they might be interesting to our readers. Sept. 5. 1905. Guilford Morse was seen today going up the steps of the rest-room in search of Miss Harris’ room. When pressed concerning the tender subject, he insisted that he was examining the furniture. April 1. 1906. Edwin Dahlberg flunked today. It is the first time he has accomplished this feat since he entered high school. Oct. 10. 1906. Miss Bcnnet was annoyed today by yelps of pain from Wm. Kuehn caused by thumb-tacks being stuck into his coat-tail. Nov. 15. 1906. Today Mr. Fyans informed Evelyn Lane that she was like soda-water in that she was effervescent. Nov. 25. 1906. We were all out at a party last night and therefore were stuck for our Caesar today. Kenneth Salisbury borrowed Newell Ferguson’s translation, and when called upon he lose to his feet with a confident air. He translated about three lines before he was checked by a savage pull at his coat-tail and a grieved look from Miss Roe. He was informed after class that the translation he had used was four days old. January 15, 1907. Ellsworth Bush recited today on the subject ’’Young writers should avoid abstract subjects.” He proceeded to illustrate by saying that young writers should not try to 50 I write on “Love, because of lack of experience. However we expect great things in that line of literature from Ellsworth since he met Diana Hill. January 23. 1907. At the fourth period today Kenneth Salisbury handed Robert Wellington a small metal tube with instructions to look in at the end, press the button at the bottom and see the moving pictures. Robert bit hard and received a sharp stream of water in his right optic. Of course the stream was turned away and happened to strike Guilford Morse in the left ear. Guilford jumped about two feet, allowing the stream to play on the blackboard. Suppressed merriment followed, much to the grief of Miss Roe. who saw no reason for the sudden inattention of her pupils. Feb. 16, 1907. Today William Hodson was sitting with me and conversing with Genevieve Griffith on the interesting subject of Day Prindle. She informed him that Day didn’t really love her. William replied in a voice filled with emotion, “How could he help it?” March 13. 1907. Today when I asked Wilma Reed if she knew where I could find Morton Houston, she said that she didn’t know, but that she had just seen Florence Palmer go upstairs. April 14. 1907. Long Miss Long had long longed for someone to make long recitations. It was a long time before long Miss Long’s long longed-for longing was longed for no more. But today long Oscar Long, not longing for long, straight marks, studied long on long Miss- Long’s long English lesson, and satisfied long Miss Long’s long longed-for longing-------- So-Long, —George Gill Jones. —Edward Dyer Anderson. 51 Prince Charming The Story of a Kiss. Date. September. 1906. [Witnesses. F. P. D. E. C. B.] I spread their data forth lest you should doubt my tale and brand it fanciful. One day last fall when the leaves and brush were blushing red, almost as if their virgin modesty lorewarned them of the sight they were to sec. four tried and trusty friends were honking along a ouiet side street in an auto. It was a peaceful afternoon. We had been talking about the possibility of love at first sight. All but one of us indigantly denied it. He. needless to say, is the one who is not blazoned forth among the afore-mentioned witnesses. “Ah.” signed he. I feel as if Romance were waiting with open arms for me this very afternoon. We scoffed aloud at him and at Romance's power. It was the last time however, for a second later we were changed from scoffers into worshippers at love’s shrine; for. coming up the street, we saw a maiden fair. She was dressed in a dun-colored garment which enveloped her like a fog. Above this rose her black, inquisitive face topped by a hat covered with nodding” chicken feathers. Whatever were the faults of this costume, it could never be accused of being vulgarly new. As we approached, she glanced up at us. Her gaze riveted itself on Prince Charming. She stood still! He rose from his seat! Hearts and souls in their eyes, they gazed as people in a dream. He doffed his hat and blew a kiss with airy grace! She threw one back! and passed away like some dim, indistinct dream, or might I say nightmare. We never saw her again. I have seen the Prince many times since. A far-away gaze is in his eyes, and whenever we are in the auto together, he always asks to go down a certain quiet side street that he loves. 52 —Earle C. Bailie Troubles of Two Assistant Physics Professors By 2 V (E. C. B.)2 Assisting in physics has its troubles as well as its pleasures. When we two little boys first began our career as assistant physics professors, we were shown around the store-room and each article used in lecture or laboratory was pointed out to us with greatest care. Articles pertaining to falling bodies, inclined planes, air and air-pressure were kept here; the electrical apparatus, and instruments to illustrate the various wonders in sound, light, and heat were there; the lenses were at your right, the air-pumps at your left; glass-tubes in this drawer, and rubber-tires in that; balances in this closet, retort-stands in that, while on the floor, under the first shelf to your right as you enter the storeroom from the east door were the dry batteries, and in the second drawer from the top in cupboard number two in the laboratory were the rubber corks. Under the stairs in the store-room was the X-ray apparatus, and directly above that, a little to the left, the glassware. East High has quite a laboratory equipment! The first lecture was a whirling success.—from our point of view. We learned about ‘‘Inertia,” that is. a new form of it. the kind a teacher doesn't object to. We found out that it was on account of this great property of physics that, if an automobile struck a street car at the rate of forty miles an hour, the occupants would continue their course, while the machine would not. One day in class two eggs were needed—needed badly.—right away, so that the density of the pupils might be enlightened concerning the relative densities of salt and fresh water. One of us. (strange to say, not two) was sent out to buy, not one, but two eggs. After a fruitless search around the block, he entered the “Busy Bee” lunch room, and asked for two eggs. How do you want them, boiled or fried?” “No, no! he answered loudly. I want them raw,—two uncooked hen’s eggs, with their shells on! Finally the eggs were produced, and. after paying the bill of six cents, he bolted for the physics room, there to see enacted the ever new-old life tragedy. To sink or swim. 53 A week later, while a lecture on falling bodies was in operation, our teacher requested us to get him a water-hammer, which lay under the stairs. After a long search. E.C.B. I remarked in a bewildered tone. Say. what in thunder is a ‘water hammer’? E.C.B. II. ‘Water-hammer’—seems as if I’ve heard of the thing before. Must be some kind of an instrument for pounding water.” Dunno. Guess we’ll have to ask the Professor. What under the stars can the thing look like! With the teacher’s assistance, we found the hammer.”—a glass tubs half-filled with water, with all the air expelled, used to show how water falls in a vacuum. But our learning did not end here. Say B—. go into the store-room and get me a beaker. While B. I hunted for the “beaker, B. II tried to melt a tube into a blow pipe; but, owing to some mysterious reason, all natural laws seemed suspended for the time being. B. II got properly heated all right, but the tube positively refused to be changed into anything so disagreeable as a blow-pipe. and. owing to a poorly controlled temper. flew into a dozen pieces. By this time. B. I entered with a large flask. To his profound astonishment, he was informed that this was not a breaker. but a flask, and was politely shown the difference. But there was one thing we felt sure of,—lanterns—until one eventful day. our teacher remarked: Well, now. I’ll project this on the screen for you, and you can better see how it works. Why. B—, you haven’t got the carbons in the lantern! It can’t operate without carbons! The carbons were promptly inserted. There! that’s about the ticket,” he mused. B. I to B. II. (aside) I’ll be blowed if we haven’t forgot the vertical projection apparatus! “Gee! Here it is! Here, put it in quick before he comes back! We’ll get the dickens if he finds out we’ve forgot such an important thing as that! Everything was adjusted and all went well until it came to the focusing. “What’s the matter with that focus? It don’t focus right! Oh, I see, you boys 54 haven’t taken out the front lens. Don’t you remember that you always have to take out the front lens when you use the vertical projection apparatus?’’ B. I., By Jove!” B. II., By Jove!” One morning, we reached our assembly room shortly after the tardy bell had rung. The room principal halted us. Our explanations being not entirely satisfactory we were told in no uncertain tone that hereafter we should either stay in the physics room, or go home, or get back to our room on time, but we were not to come in late, and disturb the whole class. As we departed, we caught ourselves humming that once-popular tune, He walked right in. and turned around, and walked right out again. Besides these lesser troubles, there were greater ones when the laboratory was reached. Our own experiments, sad to say, did not always come out just right. One of them brought about the astonishing result that the acceleration of gravity was 3,123 centimeters! We copied the entire exoeriment over three times, and it was a terribly long one—any Junior will tell you that. The third time, with a little doctoring thrown in, we brought about the exact answer of 980 centimeters. By the way, we think “doctoring is all right, for if it weren’t for doctors, many people would die. and we believe we should have died, if we had had to cooy that experiment the fourth time. There was one more catastrophe—our last, but not least. One day while performing the experiment on heat, in which water is boiled and the steam is used to expand a rod, we slightly misinterpreted the text, and told all the students to stop up both holes in the boilers. The pressure became so great that the boilers all exploded, blowing the whole class to atoms. This was a great boom for East High, but unfortunately it cuts short our account of the haps and mishaps of two assistant physics professors. —Edwin C. Brown One evening, after a long day’s tramp. I was sitting in the street car at Fort Snelling, waiting for the car to start. It was just 6 o’clock when the artillery officers fired the sunset gun. One old German in the car was quite startled at the loud report, and. after gathering together his wits. said. “Ach Himmel! Ofer in dis country die sun goes down mit a bump! 55 The Class of ’10 or The Troubles of Freshmen Perhaps you have heard rumors, faint and indefinite, of course, but still rumors, that some Freshmen (indeed, most Freshmen) are somewhat green. This is a delicate matter to speak of, yet I fear we must accept the word of various scientific men who describe a Freshman as “One. in the rudiments of knowledge, usually very small, largely composed of pride and innocence—color, a vivid green. How else can we account for all the troubles into which they continually fall? The first thing the Freshman does is to get lost. It is the only respectable thing he can do. In the course of his wanderings he will then learn rooms, office, halls, stairs, and basement in the quickest and most painless way.—especially the basement. It is humiliating. that inevitable trip to the basement, to w’hich some sweetly smiling Sophomore has so kindly directed him; and yet it serves to teach that fear of Sophomores which is the beginning of all knowledge. The average Freshman is pretty sure to bob up in the Senior room, too. and this is very unkind of him. For the Seniors always find it necessary to strain both their voices and their dignity by yelling “Freshie, Freshie, Freshie, at the intruder, and Seniors don’t like to yell. A Freshman usually finds his assembly room the first day. Once there he discovers, to his great disappointment, that his desk is no larger than when he was a mere eighth grader; also, that the teacher does not call him Mister as he had fondly hoped she would. What Freshman who ever did the stunt, will forget how he asked to be in “section ten. please? Or when, dozing peacefully in his assembly room, under the delusion that it was a vacant period, there came a little note to see if he were lost or skipping? Or any other of the fool things he did that day? Now comes that unhappy day that brings the terrors of his first recitation. The way the Freshman studied that lesson would be a model for the most studious of Seniors; yet when the awful time of reciting comes, his courage deserts him and he can scarcely speak a word. Those feeble, tottering legs, that weak and faltering voice, that madly whirl- 56 ing brain, all arc now his unhappy lot. But these, after all. are the terrors of a lesson that the Freshman does know. All too soon comes the day when he is called upon for what he does not know. This is the bugbear of his existence, the awful, elusive X that teachers are so persistent in demanding. The answer, so far as the Freshman is concerned. is always zero, and he knows it. After the first week or so. you can’t fool the Freshman on the subject of goose-eggs. That is the line on which he first begins to grow wise. That stern, appalling silence; that sad and pitying smile; the harsh You may sit; those scowls and sarcastic remarks about the younger generation.—he knows them all as mere forms of the immortal goose-egg. On the other hand, did you ever see a teacher scribble down a perfectly fierce mark with a dry pen? Most of us have! About the time when he begins to suffer from his frequent collisions in the hall and from complete mental exhaustion, the Freshman’s troubles are cut short by vacation. When he returns it is to face the grim question To pass or not to pass. A hush falls over the school. The Freshman forgets to be green. He begins to study. For a moment the taunts of the Sophomores are hushed. In A room there may be gayety. but on the third floor misery is the lot of its tenants, for they must work. Supported by frequent supplies of sour pickles, fudge, and cream cheese, the Freshman labors thru the long hours of the night. By day. he makes scholarly recitations on what he did not study, and flunks regularly on what he did. Between times, he crams. Then, because it has to. Midyear comes and relieves him. With the new term, he discovers something. He is still green, and upper classmen still persist in thinking he's a first termer. It is so annoying to be called Freshman yourself. when you are working a quiet, little game on an entering infant. It is also uncomfortable. he discovers, not to know where your new assembly room is. The fact that you are now supposed to look after yourself and not ask individual questions, makes difficulties, too. In second term as well as first, the Freshman has his troubles. He is still apt to lose his meal tickets, or to have his toes pinched in the scats of the auditorium, or carry his fountain pen upside down, or flunk. Then, of course, there are the teachers. They are such hard-hearted creatures, so persistent in keeping the temperature down to the zero point, and in driving all your carefully hoarded knowledge out of your head, that they keep the Freshman in a perpetual state of terror. So he settles down and studies the gentle 57 arts of bluffing, and “working the teacher; also of forgetting. Incidentally, he learns a few things that are outlined in the course of study. But with the Spring term, the Freshman forgets to be studious. All his thoughts arc on lemonade and swimming holes, and all his energies arc devoted to growing large enough to become a Sophomore. This is the time when his marks begin to assume a sadly horizontal position, and his legs, in class time, begin to cover aisles and aisles of territory, while his head, grown heavy with all his learning, lops over the back of his seat. This is the time when the Freshman is apt to be absent and unable to bring an excuse. This is the time when he forgets to copy his lessons, and books continually disappear, and his papers are torn up by the “baby, whoever that exceedingly handy individual may be. A little later comes the time when many Freshmen learn that they will be allowed to continue as such for another term. But some, proud possessors of eight credits, don the toga of the “wise fool,” and defy the world as Sophomores. —Gladys Harrison. Lawrence Barnard—Say. John, how do you translate this Dutch sentence? John—Oh. I dunno. L. B.—Oh, come off. you do too. I'll do something for you sometime if you will. John—What'll you do? L. B.—I'll show you the whole of my new vest. The other day when with Earle Bailie, the writer happened to repeat the old phrase. All the angels have big feet—Turn te de turn turn, tum-tum! Earle placidly replied, Thank you. 58 OUR DEAR TEACHERS! j Uwl Ur U Ui 59 Out of the Mouths of Babes ( I ) Miss West—B-z-z-z-z—is that perfectly clear? (Complete geometric demonstration.] (2) Mr. Nicholas—I’m getting tired of this! All who are absent stand up so I can see them. (3) Miss Thomas—There ain't no such word as ’ain’t.’ (4) Contrasted ideas of German teachers— Miss Shillock—Heaven is my home. Miss Strohmeier—Dies ist hell. (5) Mr. Fyans—When you are conversing about a lady, she should be spoken of as ‘dame.’ When you are addressing her. she should be called ‘Madame.’ Now, Miss C-----, translate. ’Lady. I am charmed to see you.’ Miss C—Dame, je suis charme de vous voir. Mr. Fyans—Have I not told you. Miss C--. that it is not proper to say ‘damn’ to a lady? (6) Miss Roe—I’ll try to explain that figure about Neoptolemus seeing a ‘double Thebes.’ You know a drunkard sees things double. Well. I myself have seen six moons in a row (class drowns out rest of explanation in mirth but quiets down to hear)—and the sidewalk rose up to meet me. 60 The Man in the Little Gray House It was a small, gray house, surrounded by a high picket fence. Everything about it had a modest, tucked-in appearance, as if it realized its own unimportance, and was determined to take up as little room as possible. The one lone poplar tree, standing by the fence with its branches cramped close to its sides, made up in height what it lacked in width. I he tree, however, was not so very different from its kind, nor were the high picket fence and the little gray house so very extraordinary. To tell the truth I should probably never have noticed any of these things, had it not been for the man who paced slowly to and fro in the tiny patch of a front-yard. He was tall, at least a head taller than the average man; and possessed a frame which told of a one-time power, but all that was a thing of the past. Disease had wasted and shrunken his limbs. His large, pale, German features, partly hidden by bushy reddish whiskers, looked sternly out from under his low-pulled hat. His very height seemed to accentuate his gauntness. Assisted by a large oak stick, he was walking back and forth, making a brave attempt at strength and firmness in the footsteps which would falter in spite of himself. “Good-morning!” The gruff voice startled me. I must have been staring hard. Good-morning,” I stammered, and hurried away, feeling more like a naughty child caught at mischief than a grown woman. Every day, for several months that spring and summer, 1 had occasion to walk past the little gray house. Every day without fail, the tall thin man paced to and fro. I used to walk as slowly as I dared, while passing, and watched him. fascinated. He mo ed with the monotonous regularity of a clock; five steps from the gate to the front door; turn; three steps more to the corner of the house; turn about; three steps back to the door; five steps, and the fence again. Over and over this was repeated. My curiosity was aroused, and in imagination I peopled a little world for him. There was one circumstance that puzzled me more than anything else. In the many times I had passed his house, not once had I en a person come or go except himself. Could it be possible that he had lived alone—he. a sick man? More and more I wondered about his story. Part of it could easily be conjectured. Stricken by disease, he had probably been 61 warned by some wise doctor that fresh air and exercise were what he needed. Yet why was he so friendless? I could not understand it and determined to make friends with him if possible. This was not so difficult as I had at first imagined. After that first good morning, it seemed quite the natural thing to nod and smile as I passed. Soon his voice, which had seemed so gruff at first, began to take on a friendlier tone. One bright May morning, I brought him some dark blue wood-violets. It was pathetic to see the surprised grateful look he gave me as he took them. He stood for a long time with his face buried in their cool depths, drinking in the fresh, woodsy fragrance. I was well satisfied, and passed on. The next morning he was waiting at the gate to give me a big bouquet of red geraniums and bachelors’ buttons, picked from his own tiny garden. Thereafter our friendship was assured. On the hot summer days that followed. I sometimes loitered a while at the gate and we talked. That is. I talked; he said very little, but always seemed glad to see me there. It was a sultry morning in the latter part of July. The leaves and flowers drooped in the merciless heat, and even the sturdy weeds hung their heads in wilted submission. On such a dav, I was glad indeed to take advantage of a rest and talk with my gruff, child-hearted friend. I found him sitting in an old arm-chair under the poplar tree. He had taken more and more to this chair lately. Lack of nourishment and care were leaving their impression. The first time I saw him there, it semed so strange that I suppose I must have shown my surprise. Yes. I thought I’d try sitting down a little, he said, half apologetically; there’s just as much air sitting down as standing up. And anyway. I thought I’d be wearing down the path a mite too much. with a smile. This time he didn’t even rise to undo the latch, but his face brightened perceptibly as he took the wild roses and honeysuckles from my hands. I’ve always had a taking for posies, especially roses, he said. My Minna used to say------’’ Then he stopoed. Here was my opportunity. Was Minna your wife? I asked gently. No. Minna is my daughter, my good, good daughter. Ach, Gott! If I could only see her again! • Bit by bit the story was told. Minna was the only child left to him of six beautiful children, he said, and after the wife had died Minna had been so good, so tender. 62 There ne er had been so good a daughter. When he had sent her to school, she had been such an honor to him. He wanted her to have a good English education, tho he himself could neither read nor write the language. Then Minna had married, but she did not go away and leave her old father as many girls would do. No. she had taken him to live with her and her husband. He had been very comfortable there until the sickness came, and soon after that Minna's husband had a chance to go out on the farm. He was a smart young man. was Minna's husband, and he loved the farm. Besides, the doctor had declared that farm life would be the very best for him, the father. So it had been arranged that Minna and Carl should go ahead and get things settled and then Minna would write for him to come. She had hired a woman to do the cooking and cleaning for him. and then to read the letters, for he could not read English, he said. All the letters were addressed to her. too. The woman had been very good while Minna was there, but as soon as she went away Frau Herman became strangely careless, and forgot many things that she had promised Minna. Indeed, she did nothing all day long but read and visit the neighbors. One day when he arose, she was nowhere to be seen, and since then he had heard nothing of her. Neither had there been any letters after that day. He had waited and waited, but finally he had decided to move into this small house where the rent was not so high. He did not know what to do now. for his money was almost gone and he knew no place to go. What was to be done, he asked. At length I left my friend somewhat comforted by my promise to try to find Minna. If Frau Herman had been so friendly with the neighbors. I assured him. they must know where she was; and if we once obtained one of Minna's letters we could find her. It turned out as I hoped. A week afterward I unlatched the familiar gate and entered the garden, this time not alone. My friend turned with his accustomed smile, but the greeting died upon his lips. “Oh. Minna, my Minna! The good Gott be praised! She has come back to me.” and with tears streaming down his face, he half rose to meet her. No need for that. Minna was kneeling at his feet caressing the dear hands and mingling her own honest tears with those of her father. The look of pain smoothed from his face; the Ansel of Peace had entered his heart. 63 Those Naughty Eighters Earle Confused Bailie, Managing Editor of the Cardinal. Sergeant-at-Arms, Pin Committee. Chief Pursuit—JunioR. Died—In the sweet bye-and-bye. Pluto’s Command—To increase the size of his understanding. Lawrence D-n Barnard. President of class. Sporting Editor of Cardinal. Social Committee, f oot-ball Team. Manager of Track Team, Treasurer of Literary Society. Chief Pursuit—Trying to run the class to suit everybody. Died—From that longing for retirement which so worried his friends at the New Year. Pluto’s Command—’Fake not your loved one to every show that comes to town. Edwin Confused Brown, Treasurer of class. Business Manager of Cardinal, Social Committee. Chief Pursuit—Cultivating magnetism in order more easily to attract dues from the pockets of his class-mates. Died—From a bird's peck. “Et tu. Brute!” Pluto’s Command—To wear a live bird chained on his bonnet. Holy Selden Brown, Social Committee. Chief Pursuit—Painting beer signs. Died—By request. Pluto's Command—To work five minutes a day. Mary X Clark. Chief Pursuit—The car. Died—When she was again taken out of school. Pluto’s Command—Never again study. Esther Muzzled Cleveland. Chief Pursuit—To arrive at school at 8:29. Died—In the Busy Bee Pluto’s Command—Make chewing-gum for Proserpine. 64 Lela Live Coffin. Chief Pursuit—To be less grave. Died—By the misuse of a pickaxe on her last batch of fudge. Pluto's Command—To cultivate spontaneous combustion. Florence Musical Craig, The Child Artist. Sergeant-at-Arms. Orchestra. Chief Pursuit—The Thursday Musicale. Died—Getting there. Pluto’s Command—To make him several sets of place-cards. Josephine Singing Crary. Social Committee, Girls’ Glee Ciub, Constitution Committee. Chief Pursuit—George Huey. Died—In his steps. Pluto's Command—To reform the O’Haras. Franc Ponderous Daniels. Chief Pursuit—To be a writer and explorer. Died—Drowned in the river; his launch overturned. Pluto’s Command—To be assistant gate-tender. Helen Lovey Day, Social Committee, Sergeant-at-Arms (1st term). Chief Pursuit—Taking S. S. Died—From the effects of the same. Pluto’s Command—Thy name shall be Frieda. Alden Warbling Elwell. Chief Pursuit—A certain Bean. Died—On the Elwell farm. Pluto’s Command—To cultivate more ancestors. Carolyn Lucky Everts. Chief Pursuit—Trying to appear unconscious when Caroli-ine is named. Died—After a long and virtuous life. Pluto’s Command—To write descriptions of the landscapes of the lower regions. 65 Janet Ed. f'erguson. Social Committee. Chief Pursuit—Paul Ware—and others. Died—From hearing the Symphony Orchestra too much. Pluto’s Command—To be a second Raphael. Carroll Joking Gibbs. Chief Pursuit—A teacher who likes practical jokes. Died—In Saint Paul on Sunday. Pluto’s task—To polish Miss West’s halo. Mary Ethereal Griswold. Chief Pursuit—Ping-pong. Died—Hydrophobia; bit by her pet poodle. Pluto’s Command—To become the Hades telephone Central. Clarice Nothing Hertig, Class Secretary. Associate Editor of the Cardinal. Chief Pursuit—Poetry. Died—In her skin. Pluto’s Command—To write his epic. Ruth Aphrodite Knowlton, Pin Committee. Social Committee. Constitution Committee. Chief Pursuit—To become beautiful by making faces. Died—From the aforesaid pursuit. Pluto’s Command—Decrease thy linear expansion. Richard Orange Leavenworth. Chief Pursuit—Raising the roof with a cornet. Died—Doing unto others as he would that they should not do unto him. Pluto’s Command—Bleach your hair. Josephine I oby Littel. Chief Pursuit—Littellness. Died—Ach, nimmermehr. Pluto’s Command—To gather pomegranates for Proserpine. 66 Willard Abbreviated Morse. Chief Pursuit—To be a prize-fighter. Died—Cut off by Procrustes. Pluto’s Command—To be the head stenographer. I Kathleen Leaving Murphy, Social Committee. Chief Pursuit—Her future worser half. Died—Saying, “The course of true love never did run smooth.” Pluto’s Command—To compute her percentage error in existence. Arthur Porous Nelson. Chief Pursuit—SU11-H20. Died—Ship-wrecked on his way back to the old country. Pluto’s Command—To know two popular languages. Anita Learned Niles. Chief Pursuit—To be serene in a Ciceronian battle. Died—In a B Room explosion. Pluto’s Command—To assist in the Hades laboratory. Vivian Husky Norwood, Vice President, Social Committee. Chief Pursuit—School-books. Died—From over-exertion in studying. Pluto’s Command—Become as thy middle name. Ralph X Nyberg. Chief Pursuit—Physics. Died—When leap year came around. Pluto’s Command—To look pleasant. Clarence Cash-Wanted O’Gordon. Social Committee. Cap Committee. Chief Pursuit—Girls. Died—Over-worked in Sing-Sing. Pluto’s Command—Turn down your trousers. 67 Eject King Painter. Chief Pursuit—Silence. Died—On the ladder. Pluto’s Command—To keep his first name a mystery. Geneveive-------Palmer. Chief Pursuit—Hair that will pompadour. Died—Of an unbroken heart. Pluto’s Command—To decorate the crown imps. Mary Jagged Palmer. Chief Pursuit—A laboratory partner who knows something. Died—At home. Pluto’s Command—To teach Miss Evans Latin. Esther Meek Pardee. Chief Pursuit—Basket Ball. Died—Because her poster was rejected in the contest. Pluto’s Command—To scale the Hades fire-escape. Lee Hilarious Piper. Chief Pursuit—Skating. Died—Of a broken heart caused by a minus in Physics. Pluto’s Command—To pick a peck of pickled peppers. Giace Painted Power. Social Committee. Chief Pursuit—Noblest of God’s creation. Man. Died—From looking in the glass. Pluto’s Command—To be fired from the Adams Express Company. Sidney Light-headed Pressey. Chief Pursuit—To be worthy the honor of a front seat. Died—Of most everything. Pluto’s Command—To edit a Hades newspaper. 68 Frank Slow-poke Preston. Chief Pursuit—'I o get enough nerve to ask a girl to the Junior-Senior. Died—Thinking about it. Pluto’s Command—To imitate his brother. Julia Misanthropic Purple. Chief Pursuit—To make experiments upon the density of ordinary mortals. Died—When Nicholas came to town. Pluto’s Command—To patent a perpetual-motion joke machine. Janet Rank Rankin. Association Editor of the Cardinal. Chief Pursuit—To be a budding young physicist. Died—Trying to persuade her co-editors to take out that ‘’obnoxious” article concerning herself. Pluto’s Command—Agree with everyone. Philip Lazy Ray, Social Committee. Hat Committee. Chief Pursuit—Cartooning and caricaturing. Died—Hit by a smile from Miss Evans. Pluto’s Command—To design teachers’ gravestones. Catharine Lion Roberts. Social Committee. Chief Pursuit—To differ from her middle name. Died—Heart-broken by Mr. Nicholas’ leaving. Pluto’s Command—To have the name of ‘‘Chuckles.’’ Leonard Emotional Rollins. Chairman Social Committee. Hat Committee. Chief Pursuit—Fussing. Died—In Schiek’s alley. Pluto’s Command—To sign the pledge. Gregg Moral Sinclair. Debating Team. Chief Pursuit—Debating. Died—Trying to improve the world. Pluto’s Command—To convert Mr. Nicholas. 69 Bertha Lily Sheffield, Associate Editor of the Cardinal. Chief Pursuit—To avoid stopping in at work-house. Died—Of over-indulgence at Osseo. Pluto’s Command—To form an addition to the heating plant. Margaret Minerva Skaro. Chief Pursuit—Trying to live up to her middle name. Died—On a lake train. Pluto’s Command—To stand on her head in the mud and count a hundred. Alice Electroplated Stacy. Chief Pursuit—To compose lullabys that would not wake the dead. Died—For variety. Pluto’s Command—To languish in the oven until Brown. Lac Faithless Stafford. Social Committee. Chief Pursuit—Dancing. Died—In Mrs. Noble’s fair arms. Pluto’s Command—To walk in a straight line. Anna Really Thompson. Chief Pursuit—Planing. Died—From too much manual training. Pluto’s Command—To design something new in furnaces. Katherine Giant I hompson. Chief Pursuit—To disprove the adage Little girls should not ask questions. Died—In her bed. Pluto’s Command—To do up her hair. Opal Lilliputian Wasser. Chief Pursuit—Botany. Died—In Miss Shillock’s room. Pluto’s Command—To be a “has wasser” 70 David Resting West, Comic Editor of the Cardinal, Constitution Committee. Hat Committee. Chief Pursuit—Trouble. Died—From wild efforts to make the world believe that he never did anything. Pluto’s Command—To shovel coal at $6 per. Vincent Enchanting Wyman, Social Committee, Foot-ball ream. Chief Pursuit—Central High School and Mary Storer. Died—From falling into the bowl of his pipe. Pluto’s Command—To walk pigeon-toed. Dudley Pickled Yerxa. Chief Pursuit—To cure the slight impediment in his speech. Died—In Yerxa's Grocery. Pluto’s Command—To start a theater that shall be equal to the Empire. Teacher—In what year was Macaulay married? Pupil I—In 1827. Pupil 2—It’s a lie! Macaulay received the degree of Bachelor of Arts in 1831. Pupil 1—La Pete! can't a man be divorced? Teacher—What have you found to be the best way to study on your lessons? Pupil—Sit on them. Heard in Latin class— Aeneas shed huge tears which were carted away by chariots. The soldiers could with difficulty keep under their skins. 71 The Gingerbread Man •’Peetah! Peetah! Yu’ Peetah! ’ Aunt Cleopatra's ample form quite excluded the sunshine from the kitchen doorway as she lifted up her voice in the stillness of the summer afternoon. ‘•Peetah!” Ominous silence. Cleopatra drew a deep breath. Communion with the absent Peter was exhausting, to say the least. She made one final attempt in her deepest voice of wrath, then subsided and stalked back to her rolling pin. The thundercloud over her face became more threatening still, if such a thing were possible, as her eyes rested on the masterpiece at which she had been laboring. A work of art. indeed, was this gingerbread gentleman. He was of immense proportions even as he lay in a raw. limp state in his pan. and gave promise of being puffed out with overpowering importance when he would have been duly baked and browned. He stared a cool, beady stare right into Cleopatra's grim countenance as she stood irresolute as to whether she should only take off his raisin buttons or demolish him entirely. For Peter had forfeited all right to even cookies—to say nothing of a gingerbread aristocrat —by basely deserting the wood which was to be piled every afternoon for a week. Rcck’n yu wuz bawn plumb lazy.” she said finally, as she contemplated the man, ”en I reck’n yu’ can’ help it. Yu’ wuz bawn pow’ful hongry too, en yu’ can’ help dat nuther. But—’’ and she banged the oven door with precision. ”dat ar truck ’ud sho make yu sick arter yu’ ben swimmin’ so much. Peetah honey! At supper. Peter was inwardly apprehensive and outwardly talkative with a constrained cheerfulness on any subject but the woodpile and his damp wool. His aunt, strangely enough, was not inclined to conversation. The gingerbread giant was leaning stiffly against the sugar bowl and Peter furtively feasted his eyes upon it. When he had eaten everything in the immediate vicinity, he planted his elbows on the table, his chin in his hands, while his eyes covetously followed the outlines of the marvel of grace bv the sugar bowl. Yu’ certny does make pou’ful good gingerbread fellahs. Aunt Pat. Gooder’n any 72 pusson I knows on. M m. Dat ar s a jimdandy! he ventured hopefully, and rolled his black eyes for a fraction of a second over in her direction. “Dat so. honey? responded Aunt Pat in seeming abstraction, and went on sewing a patch in Peter’s best Sunday-go-to-meeting trousers. Peter shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He waited a second, while Aunt Pat creaked on serenely in her rocking-chair. Orful big. Aunt Pat. Mos’ too big for dis yeah table. Aunt Pat. Yu doan say! ‘Clar to glory, ey ’taint yo’ bedtime, chile, en yu’ ain' done got yo’ baff took!” I’se clean a’ready. Aunt Pat, ’caus---------” He stopped and took a sudden and absorbing interest in the checks of the red tablecloth. Huh! Yu’ clean. Peetah Simmons! Laws! I rec’n a baff won’ natchelly do yu’ nuff ha’m ter pestah yoseff about. Yu’ll sho make out ter tote yoself round in yo' sleep some more ef vu’ doan git ter bed right sma’t. Hop 'long, now. lively!” With a sickening suddenness, down dropped Peter’s heart right to the bottoms of his bare, black feet and stayed there. He slowly untwined his legs from the rounds of the chair and heaved a touching sigh. Aunt Pat patched on. With eyes riveted on the table, he walked backward step by step, till he came to the door, cast a last despairing glance at his aunt, and then thundered up the stairs. He dropped to sleep with a vague emptiness in—was it his heart? Several hours later, the meditations of the gingerbread man were disturbed by a shadow across the bar of moonlight on the kitchen floor. A dusky apparition in a wisp of striped shirt came leisurely and noiselessly toward the table to the upright watchman by the sugar bowl. If the beady eyes of the latter gentleman had been particularly wideawake. he might have observed that this visitor had his eyes shut as he slowly crossed the shaft of light that lay in his path. The next instant, however, the gingerbread man found himself travelling along in midair upside down, with one doughty leg grasped by a little black hand. Things were not very clear to his distorted vision, but a cool bieath of air blew over him and he know that they were out of doors. Along went the figure in the fluttering striped shirt 73 down in the direction of the creek. And still he had his eyes shut! The gingerbread man was too upset in his present inverted position to be surprised by that. It took ail his efforts to keep his own eyes from falling out. On—on. Their shadow, and he found himself under the great sycamore which sprawled over the bank and stretched one great arm over the water, softly rustling in the moonlit breeze. Aunt Cleopatra was wakened from peaceful dreams by a saucy moonbeam, which shone persistently in her face. She smiled at it and glanced at the small bed over in the corner. 'Fer de lub o’ Gawd!” It was empty. So was Aunt Pat’s an instant later “Peetah!” she quavered uncertainly. She waited till the house ceased its eerie echoing. Whah is yu,’ honey?” she ventured again, as with fear and trembling she shook into her clothes. ’’Walkin’ in is sleep again!” she moaned. Jumped off de roof, en’ done gone straight to Hebben a’ready. Oh, mammy’s lii lamb!” By this tme she was down stairs and out in the moonlight. With a deep breath she looked at the roof and almost sobbed in relief at not seeing a silhouette on the gable preparing to take the shortest route to Heaven. Instinctively she turned toward the creek, praying fervently as she hurried along. Then she came in sight of the old sycamore—and ceased to breathe. Out on the limb o cr the water were Peter and the gingerbread man taking a promenade, the former still upside down, while his captor walked airily to and fro. Oh Pettah,—git down! —then remembered—too late—and gasped frantically. “Good Lawd!” Peter did get down, and immediately, too. He disappeared with a splash in the silver dimples of the creek. Aunt Pat never knew what happened next. Neither did Peter except that he kicked and squirmed and wriggled and struggled till he was somehow free of water and sleep, and in Aunt Pat’s arms. En twuz jis’ dat ornery cooky man, she murmured tenderly as she wiped away her tears. 74 L Peter stopped shivering and sat bolt upright. He looked down the creek. A dark spot was eddying along thru the silver. Dcre yu’ goes,” he said mournfully. Anyway, he raised his voice,— anyway. I mos died fer yu‘! And the gingerbread man sailed on. —Clarice Hertig Dreaming Sitting by the fireside On a winter’s eve. See we in the embers red More than mind can weave. There in back a castle stands By the foaming blue; Here in front a vessel sails With a gallant crew. All at once the ship goes down Covered by the sea. Now my picture is all gone Dreams have flown from me. 75 —Gerald H. Beard. The Passing Show On the first of February, Nineteen hundred seven, a traveling stock-company gave a performance in the East High Auditorium. For weeks beforehand the walls of the school were covered with posters announcing that the Senior class would offer this entertainment; that the players were Seniors whose histrionic abilty (thus the bills-boards read) had called them from the school to “the road;” and last, but not least, that the Senior Octette would sing, accompanied by the Senior Orchestra. That the show was finely advertised became fully evident that night, as one looked over the densely crow'ded house. The whole school and the many friends of the Senior class had come in full force to see The Passing Show. Before the curtains were drawn, the Senior” Orchestra regaled us with Mr. Thomas Cat.” I said the Senior” Orchestra, tho why it was called Senior was more than mortal mind could compass; for it was composed wholly of Juniors, Sophomores and Freshmen, and was only distinguished by its lack of Seniors. It goes without saying that the Orchestra was very good. The “Senior Octette gave the first number. This organizaton was made up of four girls and an equal number of boys. The young ladies, indeed, were passing fair! The first song was a great success and reflected great credit on the Junior and the Alumnus in the Octette. Their second effort was a very pointless parody on a worn-out exhortation to be happy. They took it upon themselves to tell us care-free Juniors to cheer up, holding before us. as a reward, a promise that we should be Seniors by and by, a prospect anything but cheering.” considering the examples before us. Then the play began. Shakspeare’s Water Cure was the vehicle chosen to display the Seniors' talents. The Water Cure bears much the same relation to amateur theatricals that Charley’s Aunt does to the professional stage. The curtains parted! The Senior class was discovered at a second rate water cure,” proudly strutting about in their borrowed plumes. The class seemed to be having a great deal of trouble. Some of them were in danger of being evicted for non-payment of bills. Others were fighting with their spouses for more clothes or more allowance. It was positively scandalous to see the attraction between the gloomy Dane.” and the upright judge. Macbeth’s nose caused much adverse comment. Romeo is sincerely advised not to take up 76 the stage as his permanent career even tho he does spout Mark’s” speech in such perfect style. Othello should start a second Busy Bee on leaving school. He certainly knows how to run one economically. Juliet, of whom giggles seem to form the chief part, deserves our unmitigated scom for having so basely betrayed her class into the hands of their enemies. Someone in the audience said that if Lady Macbeth could run a business the way she did her husband, he would give her a $30,000 position on the spot. Ophelia has our sincere sympathy. Her lot is hard; to be obliged to live with those pill boxes would drive anyone crazy. Shylock should certainly start a secondhand store; the way he asked for any clothes the audience might have to spare for the participants in the graduation, was really touching, and so thoughtful, too. When the play was almost over the Happy Family seemed about to cease their quarreling and prepared to eat a sumptuous banquet (which didn’t materialize). It was a false alarm, however, for they had only seated themselves in order to save their strength for a perfect fusilade against us much-abused and long-enduring Juniors. Led on by the pointed (?) questions of Ophelia, the company tried to tell her of a brave deed done by the Juniors. In the early fall some of our brave lads scaled the wall of the school building in the blackness of the mid-night hour and hung high our noble banner. It flew there till the janitors were forced to take it down by order from the powers, altho before this time the Seniors had tried all kinds of means to tear it down from its high position. They became so muddled in their recital that they gave the audience the impression that we deserved anything but praise which we know is so justly our due. Now. they maligned us in a most unmannerly fashion. We repay their evil deed with unalloyed good, giving them an unbiased criticism of their performance, which will certainly live in the memory of the audience as a most unique and remarkable effort. — Earle C. Bailie 77 One Learns to Swim by Jumping Into Deep Water The principal actor, or rather he who created the greatest disturbance in the following events, was a spirited little horse. He was a beautiful animal, well proportioned, and with a glossy black coat. Trying to make a saddle stick to his back was a hard task, for his body was so round that buckles, however tight, would not prevent slipping. I determined to learn to ride him. He had no objections, at least he didn’t express them. On the day I had set for the venture. I put on the riding bridle, or I mean I put the riding bridle on him. and led him forth. I am no authority as to jumping. George Washington jumped across the Delaware. No. hold on. I didn't mean that; I think it was twenty feet. Whoever started that story must have jumped somewhat beyond the truth. Truth or not, I am sure a gleam of knowledge shot into my darkened brain, when I jumped upon the horse’s back, and said Giddap!” Matter persists in whatever state of rest or motion it may happen to be. Of this truth a surprising and disconcerting illustration was forced upon me. The instant I spoke, he shot off like an arrow. I confess that I never did like to ride arrows, especially greased arrows, therefore I adhered to the principle of inertia, if not to the horse, and persisted in remaining where I chanced to be. That is to say that I was left in the air. Being heavier than air, and also attracted by gravity. I descended with a velocity accelerated to one and six hundred thirty-three and one-third one-thousanths meters per second into the lap of mother earth. As the lap of mother earth is not always the softest thing to fall on. a violent physical and mental shock followed the descent. In fact I had struck the road in a sitting posture. My steed was not a faithless animal, and when he preceived that I had alighted, he came back, and stood waiting for me. He seemed to say. What’s the matter old pal. aren’t you coming? When a person wishes to impress upon you the humor of a situation, he says, It was enough to make a horse laugh. Truly the sight of me, sitting in the road, would have appealed to a passerby as extremely ludicrous. I should not have been astonished at such an incident, but I was struck dumb when my steed w-rinkled up his nose, rolled up his upper lip, and commenced lo laugh. At least that impression was stamped upon my bewildered brain. A wave of anger surged over me, and I leaped upon his back. This time I caught him about the neck. I rose in the air at the first bound, and felt myself trailing along like a ribbon, as we went at meteor speed—but I hung on. Finally I managed to cling to his round sides with my knees. Still I kept a good hold on his long mane. We passed through an open gate, and went racing over some pasture land. Suddenly the river appeared below me. The horse stopped: I did not. Over his head I shot into the water below. I rose, gasping for breath. When I had cleared the mud out of my mouth I looked up and shouted to my steed who stood safe upon the bank, gazing down at me. Despite my commands, he refused to join me at the public baths. He seemed to enjoy my plight. He was laughing again. That was too much; the bitter cup was full, and I proceeded to throw it over him. clambering up the bank, and leaping upon his back, I prodded him in the ribs with a thorn-apple stick. Instantly he began an extraordinary exercise, which is called bucking. He humped up his back like a cat, stiffened his legs, and jumped about three feet straight into the air. When he came down 1 forgot to remain where I was, and left for the upper regions in a great hurry. On returning to this fair earth. I landed in a mud hole. As I said before, my steed was not a faithless animal, and in spite of the treatment I had given him. he did not try to run away. Once more I jumped upon his back. He turned from the river, and rushed across the meadow toward a fence. To my surprise he cleared it as if he had been trained to the feat. I was getting tired of his sudden rushes, so I seized the reins, and guided him for a cornshock which stood in the field. He struck it like an express train; a wreck resulted; the cornshock was knocked down; he fell upon his knees, and I did the difficult feat of standing on my head upon the ridge of his backbone. My noble steed was surprised, but not discouraged: he tried again with the same result. Rush followed rush, and I held my seat better at every rush. Finally he gave up, and sat down and scratched his thinking cap with his index finger, trying to reason out the problem. 79 “Here, giddap! I shouted. this isn’t the schoolroom, and if it was you wouldn’t be admitted as a pupil! Be off!” He arose, and trotted away. When he turned into the road, he broke into a delightful, easy lope. A roar of laughter greeted me as I turned into the stable yard, after an absence of two hours. It wasn’t the horse’s this time, but came from some friends who were— slightly amused at my appearance. I did not mind for I had attempted something and done it. too. —Carroll J. Gibbs. A Course in Shakespeare (Under most competent teaching.) Measure for Measure....... Comedy of Errors.......... Much Ado About Nothing. . All’s Well that Ends Well... The Tempest.............. Merry Wives of Windsor.... Love's Labour’s Lost...... As You Like It............ A Midsummer Night’s Dream Romeo and Juliet......... Mr. Webster. Miss Strohmeier. Miss Evans. Mr. Cooper. Miss West. Mr. Pendleton. Mr. Evans and Miss Shillock. Mr. Cook. Miss Jeter. Mr. Nicholas and Miss Roe. Caesar sic dicat unde cur; igressi lictum. Freshman translation—Caesar sicked the cat on the cur; I guess he licked him. An awful thing has happened! ! David West came to a Board of Editors meeting 22 hours early. (He mistook the day). 80 ’08 Dictionary A V Value beyond A qp� Annual nr . i 1 1 line spent by Skipping—The wanderings of an idle mind. David West—The chief exponent of the theory of the conservation of energy. Power—A Junior maiden. 23—The number of classes C. C. O’G. has been gently propelled out of. (Put your minds at rest, this originated Skidoo.) Latin Prose—A fiendish invention copied from one that Nero used on the poor Christians. Minus—An unknown quantity to Juniors. Freshman—A biped, green in color, exhibiting no signs of intelligence whatever. Sophomore—A half-grown creature getting ready to be something better.—that is to say. preparing to be a Junior. Junior—A combination of Norse God. Greek Hero, and Saint, in fact, a being of perfection. Senior—An ancient and senile person who has quite outlived his time. Double-plus—No definition of this extraordinary thing can be given, as no one has seen one of them for such a long time. An Infant—Joseph M. Griffith. (So says Mr. Couper. and truly he is an honorable man.) S-VT.----Spooning-Vincent X Timbermansion. Brains—Gray matter belonging exclusively to the Juniors. Fussing—An O’Hara quality. Lunch-counter—The cause of Miss West’s smiling countenance of late. Nose-bleed—An abomination in the sight of the Lord, but a very present help in time of trouble—and tests. That Tired Feeling—The result of 40 minutes of sprightly description of Rosaline in the forest of Arden. Time—Matter which can be raised to a very high temperature in a class by lack of energy. ’08 Class Meeting—? ?!!?!!!????!!?!!! 61 reckoning editors Fudge—A common form of graft, conducive of good results if combined with teachers. Shakespeare—A fake who has fooled the world for four hundred years into believing him a genius. The class of ’08 saw thru the sham. Physics Experiment—A means of developing the medica1 skill of Juniors by a practice of their knowledge in doctoring. Some Books in Mr. Pendleton’s Library: Seats of the Mighty—B Room. The Light that Failed—The Seniors. Prisoners of Hope—The Sophomores. Baron Munchausen—Any Member of the Board of Editors. The Ruling Passion—The Lunch-counter. Our Mutual Friend—Mr. Webster. The Talisman—Fudge. Great Expectations—Mr. Nicholas. Hearts Courageous—The Foot-ball Team. Adventures of a Bad Boy—See West. (Either one.) A Box of Matches—The O’Haras. The Lane that Hath No Turning—Flunks. The Old Curiosity Shop—The Physics Laboratory. The Little Minister—Selden Brown. Just So Stories—The Cardinal. The Doctor—Any Physicist. Lovey Mary (S. Evans)—This Explains Itself. Witch's Gold—Double-plusses. Heart’s Haven—The Rest Room. Four Roads to Paradise—I. Study; 2, Nose-bleed; 3, Mothers; 4, Fudge. Soldiers of Fortune—All of Us. Little Men—George Huey, Ray Everhard, etc. The Conjurer’s House—A Physics Lecture. The Amateur Cracksman—L. Barnard, in the Minnesota National Guard. A Fool For Love—Reginald Van Cleve. The Spender—Emmet Hanks. 82 The House of Mirth—East High School. The Little Green Door—Eighth Grade Graduation. To Have and to Hold—Miss West. The Great Divide—See the Last Editorial. The Port of Missing Men—The Office. Kidnaped—What we wish would happen to the Girl's Glee Club. The Sons of Martha—Boys in B Room. In geometry in our Sophomore year, one of our many teachers was a man by the name of Mr. Hill. Ater every’ recitation, -or attempt at one, he put down after the pupil's name a straight line, resembling in shape the figure “I.” This way of marking was quite mysterious to us. and on occasion, one of the more inquisitive pupils asked him the meaning of the straight line. Much to our disgust. Mr. Hill replied that when he made the mark from the top down it meant a double-plus, but when he made it from the bottom up. it meant a minus. Upon looking at the marks after class we were all free to confess that none of us were the wiser as to our standings for the day. The Temple Bells We do not know. the trees were whispering low, There is no tale about the spot we hide. And then they shook their heads, denying all. But suddenly the Shinto temple bells Their silver music rung down from the mount; And over all was come a sudden spell; The trees found tongues and softly told this tale. It seemed that many years ago. before A foreign foot defiled great Buddha’s land At Sachihari lived Sakura-San, Or Cherry Blossom, beauteous as the day. She loved a man. but e’en the very gods Could join them not—he of the samurai. And she a Geisha girl. The great red death Was his and in the glory of the fight His soul passed thru the darksome Meido to The lotus fields. And she? Each year she came Alone, and clad in spotless obi, all Of white, to this quiet hidden path which met The glimmering sea, and in her hands she bore A tiny boat laden with fruits and prayers; And at the dawning she would speed it forth Unto his soul. One year—it was the last— The moon had risen, silvering ail the seas And lying in bright patches on the path. When Cherry Blossom came for the soul tryst. The little form was worn and all the life That once was in her step was gone, and yet Her hair was done with flowers, her obi ' White and new as driven snow, sandals 84 Cf dainty workmanshio were on her feet. And in her arms the little laden boat. Ah, no one knew, the cost of all these things. The body's trials, the soul's great sorrows;—no. The gods alone could know. She set the boat Upon the dancing waves and tied it with A siber cord and then she bathed herself. And washed each stain away the year had brought. About the hour of midnight, robed once more, She turned her face out toward the distance, where The mist was rising over the warm water. She prayed to Izanari, Karri and To Sarundasico, Izagi, all. The while she chafed her dainty little hands. And soon she loosed the bark, and then the breeze Elew gently on the sails and carried it Into the mist and on and on and on. She watched it go. and then untrembling drew From out her garments a bright glittering sword And pressed it to her neck where pain's not felt. Without a sigh she sank down on the grass. And then as softly slipped into the sea. Her little boat was laden with her soul. And so she followed him she loved, the while She knew that countless ages must she dwell In the vast Meido ere she came to rest With him in Buddha's bosom, circled by His arms and wandering in the Lotus Fields. The temple bell was still; the spell was gone. And yet was it a dream I dreamed, or no? 85 Gerard Van Etten. 9 THE CHAMPIONS. 1906. Front Row. from left to light Chester Brand. Niel Kingsley, Ray Eberhard. Roy Reynoldson, George Huey. Robert Woods, Lawrence Barnard. Back Row—Ralph Canterbury, Donald Hawley, Nathaniel Frykman' (coach). Dean Martin (captain), Vincent Wyman Matthew Caine (Assistant Coach), Harold Hunt, Milo Phillips. East High on the Athletic Field The class of 1908 were too bright to take any particular notable honors on the East High School Athletic field. We progressed thru grade school so rapidly that on reaching high school we were small, weak little creatures, unfit to compete against the wonderful muscle of such high and mighty Seniors as “Nat” Frykman and Joe Sherburne. This was none to our discredit, however, as it may seem; for we had the brains, very obviously lacking among our upper classmates, considering their long sojourn in the sacred realms of the recitation rooms; and that we still possess considerable of that enviable gray matter is evident in this book. Let it be known, however, that when a class like that of ’08 does become interested in athletics, they do something. It is not alone the athletes that make a team. The support of their school goes a long ways towards victory. In this, the class of ’08 with its hundred lusty and loyal members has taken no small part. It was way back in the autumn of nineteen hundred four that we decended upon the football field, determined to make our presence known and heard.- In that goodly team, coached by “Brick” Wyman and captained by Frykman. there were no Freshmen, nor did we regret the fact. East triumphed over her deadly rival. Central, for the first time in years, and South St. Paul Central were overwhelmed. North alone withstood our terrible attack and beat us by the paltry score of I 5 to 10 on a muddy field. The team’s picture was taken and the memories of their great heroism on the gridiron were buried with pleasurable yet regretful lamentation, and the football season of nineteen four was ended. Basket ball, also headed by the talented Nathaniel Frykman. was not quite as successful as football, and with truth can we say that we had wonderful material and could have done wonderful things if we had not been under the handicap of not being able to practice. The actual result of the season and the numerous games have slipped my memory, but let it suffice to say that we were just exactly as proud of our team as we would have been of champions. Baseball never has received much attention in East High, but in 1905, under the energetic management of Joe O’Gordon, we got big crowds out and really did something. 87 i THE CROSS-COUNTRY TEAM. 1906 Huey Brand Hawley Barnard Eberhard Sterratt Way Rollins Caine Longquist Elliott Devereau Shore Radke 88 Graham Werring Again Frykman was in evidence, this time as our whirlwind pitcher. South and North were swamped; and old-timers, grown clogged with cobwebs, started up with great stories of what East did when they were boys and all the old-time enthusiasm prevailed. A Senior, going by the epithet of “Foker, captained this team and we needed not. nor had. a coach. As track came round some few freshmen, under momentary visions of great honor in the interclass meet got out and trained with great vigor for a short time; but when the crucial time came, partly from lack of muscle as I have before said and more out of respect for the eldership of the Seniors and Juniors, they withdrew from the limelight in confusion. The Seniors with King. Sherburne and Barden, didn’t do nix” to the scores, laying those of the others low at every event. The great feature of the event was a relay race between the Faculty and the Alumni. Short-winded, antiquated, pedagogues puffing around the track for dear life and matched against same spirited young heroes who were not much their betters in their newly acquired habits of smoking and dissipation, furnished as you may well believe, a most comical and interesting spectacle. Right there we ended our rivalry of classes and again joined our spirit and our loyally for the greater cause of our school and reputation in the Annual Interscholastic Track Meet. This meet, and in fact all the others, and also our daily training we held at the University, of course a great advantage to us. And we surely used our advantage to a good end. In this certain meet East came out again second only to North, due to a little unfair refereeing, rather than superior ability on their part. Lorenzo Williams, the star sprinter of the Northwest fairly scudded before the other runners to victory in all the dashes and hurdles. King threw ihe hammer a record-breaking distance, and Frykman threw the discus his last and his farthest for East; and for the last time we could be glad without a bit of class jealousy that he was builded with a mighty arm and broad shoulders and that he went to our dear school. The season of 1905 began on the football field with still brighter prospects than those of 1904. not only for our class but also for our school. The team was exceedingly heavy, an unusual thing at East High. There were seven or eight husky Seniors on the team, and two Juniors, and one of our own class, which, although it seems a small number, were, we beg to say, just as many as the worthy class ahead of us as Sophomores. I say again that the first team alone is not all that brings victory-. Rooting and the second team can be. just as proud of the fact and take just as much credit for each victory- oi 89 THE BASKET BALL TEAM. 1906 Way (Manager) Kendall Cock bum Ebexhard Hawley Greene Elliott Weiring Brand 90 defeat, as any regular. The second team of that year was made up of Sophomores; and. to show what they were made of. three of the team were laid out with broken noses and two with broken collar bones in daily practice. With this broken up team we went into the Central game and were beaten 23 to 2. We then went after South and whipped them on an extremely muddy held by a score of 12 to 0. On that same dear old muddy Minnehaha Park we beat Mechanic Arts of St. Paul, and then died, or rather retired for the season; and if you examine the picture of that team you may see that Minnehaha mud is still clinging to their boots. At basketball, headed by Paul Gray, the tallest man East ever had. we played with great vim without practice and won games galore, but lost enough to be barred from the championship, and we are glad to say now. it was our last failure at basket-ball. But now followed the most eventful track season East has ever had. I he Alumni had just formed an athletic association for the purpose of promoting interest in athletics at the school, and most certainly they received magnificent support and success. Their greatest feat was the institution of an annual cross country run. Almost thirty men. half of them Sophomores, started out from the University for a long trot thru marshes and meadows, up hill and over fences, every afternoon for almost a month, and then had the final race. This was certainly a run full of experiences, and experience which almost anyone would have been glad to have been in. Walter Shore and Ernest Lonquist, both of ’07, the first and second best in this race, deserve the greatest credit ana admiration for the nerve and perseverance they showed in their killing five-mile run. in the record time of twenty-nine minutes and twenty-five seconds. For their wonderful work they were presented, by the generous association with a beautiful silver loving cup for first place and gold medal for second. This was just preliminary work for the class track meet, and Interscholastic meet. In the class meet 08ers won nine points, in truth, not a bad showing. (When one remembers that they generally gave most of their points to the Juniors that they might beat the Seniors). In this meet, the Alumni Association worked up enthusiasm by getting Minneapolis merchants to put up some beautiful and useful prize for each first place. But the East High athletes were not only interested for the prizes, but for the training itself and in the Interscholastic, half the team worked themselves to the utmost and received not even mention, — not public mention, but the mention of their own conscience, 91 I that they had done their duty. One little incident that deserves noticing was the action of William Elliot in the quarter mile run. when he, upon drawing a better place than his mate for the start, and realizing that his mate was a trifle faster than himself, unselfishly changed places with him for the success of the school and. at the loss, perhaps, of glory for himself. This self-same spirit was shown during the whole meet; and, altho we lost it. we could be happy that we earned it on in a sense of fairness and unselfishness of the highest degree. In 1906 the life of football was at stake in our high schools. The schools realized it and among them East High. Americans can never overcome the desire to show their superiority over the next bunch; and we as American youth, could never play football without the anxious desire to win. But we could and did have it then in a sense that we would win if we could, but there were more important parts to the game,—those of the perfect gentleman. We do not mean by playing like gentlemen to have the Alphonse-Gaston. wishy-washy meekness; we mean to have the spirit that treats an opponent like a comrade and friend in every respect. In the games we played with North and Central and South, each side piled the other up just as fiercely as of old; but they did it without a bit of profanity or foulness or unfairness. Every man was tired out. but no a man quit; and most excellent and wonderful proof of careful training was that not a man was injured; and you may be sure that under these ideal conditions the best team would win. It did! East did it: Firstly, thru the coaching of a man of experience, of thoroughness, of impartiality, of character. Nathaniel Frykman. Secondly, thru the support of the school. There were a crowd of rooters at the game. , who came in rain or shine, who outnumbered and outrooted all the other schools, who were as loyal to their team as they are to Uncle Sam.” and before whom their team would have been ashamed to be beaten. Thirdly. thru the wonderful foot and eye of our captain. Dean Martin, so true and strong, that the ball never failed to sail between those two familiar goal posts when Martin was behind it. and we will long remember how. in the Central game, he savetj the day and our title of CHAMPIONS. by booting a water-soaked, muddy ball for forty yards, squarely over the bar. Fourthly, and lastly, thru the upright, pure influence of our revered and beloved principal. William F. Webster, were we able to triumph. Mr. Webster has said, “Athletics make a high school; so we say athletics have made East High School. —Lawrence D. Barnard THE LINE UP. Left End Lawrence Barnard ’08 Right End Chester Brand 06i Ralph Canterbury ’06i Left Tackle Robert Woods 08 MOo Phillips ’07 Right Tackle Niel Kingsley ’07 Left Guard George Huey ‘01 Right Guard Ray Eberhard ’07 Left Half-back Harold Hunt 07 Right Half-back Donald Hawley .07 • Center Roy Reynoldson '06i Fullback Vincent Wyman '08 Quarterback Dean Martin '07 (Captain) Nathaniel Frykman (Coach) Matthew Caine (Ass’t Coach) The following are the scores for the games of the season 1906: Alumni ..... 10 East High School 0 Shattuck ..... 6 M II . o South High .... 0 II II . II North High .... 4 II II 10 St. Paul Central 8 II II 4 Minneapolis Central 6 M II . 9 93 (5 vv. Gift T)1NNJ€APOUS public liouaoy 0 Volume 2 Publisljcb bp tfje Senior Class, 1908 of Cast Jdjool Minneapolis, ,lt)imi. O' Co Mliam Jf. Web ttv tfje Principal of Cfje Cast l igfj cfjool of Minneapolis . Minnesota. altuaps tlje unfaltering encourager ant) steabfast frienb of its bops ant) girls, tfjis gear 2?ook is gratefully bebicateb bp Cfje Class of June, 1908 C « « • • • • « • Carbtnal J taff The Staff of the FX)8 Cardinal takes pleasure in presenting this hook to the students of East High School, and in submitting i for your approval. � ve wish to thank the following for their kind assistance: For literary contributions. Mr. Cook, Mr. Couper. Laurence Cady. Frank Goodman, Genevieve Griffith, Gladys Harrison, Clarice Hertig, Eugene Mitchell, Margaret Xachtrieb, Miss kossman, Gerard Van Ftten. and Richard Wakefield. For art work, Matt Caine. Elsie Hankev. Dianah Hill. Solveig Magels-sen. Isabel Xorthrup and Marion Stevens. For other courtesies, The Minneapolis Tribune, The Minneapolis Journal. Mr. Luxton. and Mr. Hubner, Photographer. Signed. EARLE C. P.AILIE. Managing Editor. YTVIAX NORWOOD. Society Editor. JAXET FERGUSON . Art Editor. PHILIP L. RAY. Uusincss Manager. LAWREXCE UARXARD. •...«• ; ... ROLAND PETELER. RERTHA SHEFFIELD, v .v. '• • :• iC? Associate Editors. 133304 From Ki� Itlnt photograph, taken at Hubnrf Studio UDtUiam UDebster CARDINAL EDITORIALS i 9 OS The Editors of The Cardinal have tried to make the book this year, representative, primarily of the school, and only secondarily of the Class. It has been our aim to show the school life in all its many and varied branches. If the book makes you realize in the slightest degree what a great privilege we all enjoy in having a part in East High’s life, the Editors will think that the volume has fulfilled its mission. Cfjr luncf) countrr is becoming; more up-to-batr all the time. 3n fact there toere three things on the menu one bap tohich might just as tuell habe been toritten in .Trench, as far as clearness of meaning is concerneb. Cbitorials The Cardinal is so delighted! We have heard that we are all to receive invitations in a few (lavs to a fine big picnic! Instead of the Junior-Senior Hall, with all its pomp and show, we are to have a big open air celebration! Just think of that blissful day! We will start early in the morning. First on the program will come that great novelty, a ride on the street car. Then, oh joy. we will steam off on a boat! Yes. we will,—and for ten whole minutes. too! Finally we will get to a great big island. Think of it. real grass to walk on and no “cop to chase us off ! Then, lunch! of course each one will bring his own. Half the fun of going to a picnic is carrying the basket! Every one knows that. But our invitations read “cambric tea served free. so no one will bring anything to drink. Cambric tea! and no Mamma there to stop us. How grown up! After that, maybe, if we’re good, we can play ring-a-round-a-rosy and pussy-in-the-corner. and when we begin to get tired, we will all go up to the pavilion and “speak pieces :—“ The Boy Stood on the Burning Deck and “The Gettysburg Address.” you know the kind I mean, the “thrilly ones. But when it begins to get dark and when it’s time for little folk like us to be in bed. we’ll ride back on the boat again, and go back to town in those great big yellow cars! But. like as not. they’ll make us have that horrid Junior-Senior vet ! When we were Freshmen, we looked forward to the Auditorium Period on Friday as a gift of the Gods. Let cruel teachers do what they pleased! On one day of the week we felt secure in the thought of that blessed institution which regularly prolonged itself until it often embraced two. nay even three recitations. We never studied on Thursday night. Instead, we enjoyed ourselves and came to school on Friday morning where we were amused by “some wandering Lion, caught and exhibited by our kind-hearted Principal. Now what a change! That erstwhile delightful announcement that we were to go to the Auditorium carries quite a different meaning now. The hall which has been the scene of stunts sent over from the neighboring vaudeville house now only echoes to the monotonous tones of the notice-giver. Now anxious teachers hurry us down to the assembly-room, two or three announcements are made, and before we are comfortably settled comes a profound bow of dismissal. An instant later we regain consciousness in our recitation room, with ten minutes of our regular twenty-minute period added to our already over-long lesson hour. Ah, believe us. Ye Under Class-men ! “The old times were the best.” Editor’s Note: Since t his was written we have been cordially invited to pay our own way to the Junior-Alumni Ball, to be given May 22. to the departing Seniors. IDe arc all anxious to knoto tube re JJftr. Couper baS big bair cut. 3t makes bint so bappp tbe next bap; perchance, tbe JflSoler barber College. tutorials Nowadays every magazine exposes something or somebody. I he C ar-dinal felt, therefore, that it would be eternal disgrace if we did not lay hare some skeleton by the publication of this book. We began to explore with this end in view and now our confidence in human nature is shattered! Who would have dreamed of a conspiracy at the lunch counter? Hut alas, it is too true! The vile conspiracy was sprung one day in midwinter, when the kindly dragon who guards the counter was sick and it was in charge of one of the weaker vessels. The hour was twelve; but in the lunch room all was quiet. The usually busy workers sat in stolid silence before the stove. There were no signs of lunch. The Weaker Vessel, affected by a sense of approaching calamity, left her class engrossed in study and came into the kitchen. She questioned wildly. Had the rascal baker failed them again? Were they sick? Tell her the worst. Then the two replied, a raise in wages or no dinner for the eager mob who would so soon be there. Words were in vain! What could a Weaker Vessel do but hand out the raise? And this is the true reason why five cents is the ruling price now, instead of three. Alas! we are leaving! Leaving what? Around what spot in this dear school arc our affections most entwined? To what beloved scene within these walls will fond memory most oft revert? Perhaps it is Minerva who greets us as we enter the lower hall, who smiles benignly on us when we come with lessons well prepared, but who looks with disapproving frown upon us if our last night’s thots strayed far from our arduous school tasks. Or it may be the broken columns of the Coliseum on the wall in Miss Roe’s room.—those columns, on which we have so often fixed our eyes in a vain effort to recall to mind some Latin rule or construction. Then too, there’s that multi-colored blackboard in Mr. Couper’s room, where one may always find the comforting fact that such and such a teacher still holds classes at such and such a time. Dear, too. to the hearts of Seniors is that double-plus list, to be seen each Monday morning on the board in Miss West’s room.—so pleasant in anticipation, so disappointing in reality. Another object which will linger fondly in our memory is that clock in “A” room. Lovely clock—unfaltering clock, how oft have we. listening to the humdrum of classes, encouraged thee with idle glances, as on thy tedious round thou past. Did space permit, we would pause here to shed a parting tear over the lunch-counter, the bulletin-board in Room I. the water tank and many others; indeed, how dear to our hearts are the scenes of East High School as fond recollection presents them to view. Hut before closing, stern Duty bids us confess that dearer and sweeter than any of these was the sound of the outside door as it closed behind our backs. IDlaping cribbagc toitfj tbe flotoers toouUm't appeal to most people, but it sure boes to SParnarb. Class Cfftcers IDfjilip flap 23ertfja $ljeffiflb UDillis Sones £arle C. Sfratlie Hatorence Sltarnarb Ctutfj Unotulton Class Cfftcers President Philip L. Ray Vice-President Ruth Knowlton Secretary, First 'Perm ------ Bertha Sheffield Secretary, Second 'Perm - Willis Jones Treasurer, First 'Perm Earle C. Bailie Treasurer, Second Term ----- - Lawrence Barnard Sergeants at Anns. First Term. Catherine Thompson. Reginald Van Clove Sergeants at Arms, Second Term - Josephine Crary and George Huey ’08 Class Committees Social Committee Ruth Knowlton Janet Ferguson Vivian Norwood Lawrence Barnard Vincent Wyman Picture Committee Kitty Humphrey Jesse Beers William Chatheld Class Plap Committee Josephine Crary, Chairman George Huey Dorothy Bell Florence Craig Earle C. Bailie, Business Manager CngraUina Committee Roland Peteler Lee Piper Sarah Rivet Class Colors: 2?lath anb Colb 3tt jl emoriam Out of tljc jSljaboU) Unto tlje Sun Sulia Purple ijelen IDilcox Cticfjarb llDillsrp Oarl Caplor Obtoarb Jackson 1 3 ‘Anderson, Annie ♦Aust. Hilda Helene Bailie, Karle Conklin Beard, Gerald Hyde Bell, Dorothy Irwin Chatfield, W illiam E. Coffin, Lela L. Collier. Ava I. Craig. Florence Margaret Crary. Josephine Scott Day, Helen Louise Dobbs, Claire Dunn, Everett W. Everts, Carolyn L. Faegre, A. Leonard Ferguson, Janet Freeman. Xeda B. Hertig, Clarice Hertig, Marshall Hilton, Geneva May Holbrook, Shirley R, Humphrey, K it tic Keating. Edward II. Keating, Kathryn ♦Knowlton, Ruth Leavenworth. Richard O. Littcl. Josephine T. Lombard, Jessie Alison 9,1 Mason, Dorothea Class Hat in Course Matteson. Pearl Morse, Willard A. Murphy, Kathleen Lee Kelson Arthur Xeudeck, Clara I. Xiles, Anita L. Norwood, Vivian Holmes Painter, H. King Painter, Stella Palmer. Genevieve Palmer, Mary Jessie Pardee, Esther Mary Peteler, Roland Owen Piper, Lee H. Pressev, Sidney Leavitt 41 Rankin, Janet Ruth Ray, Philip Lacey Scriver, Arthur T. Sheffield, Bertha Lillian Sinclair, Gregg M. Skaro, Margaret M. Stacy, Alice Emily Steinman. Myrtle E. Stevens, Marion I. Thompson, Katherine Genevieve Vasser, 0])al Weidt, Anna C. Witherhead, Helen A. 2?ltssrb are tljcp tfjat lie—tfjus saitfj JDenbleton Class Howeii. Luzerne J. Hush. Clarence A. Col grove, Laura May Begin, Zephyr ♦Cleveland, Esther Morris Cody, Irene C. Lack lam. Emma H. Goodman. I'rank P. Grnman. Beatrice Jensen. Carl J. Larson, Rosalie C. English Course Hoskin, Alice Belle ♦Magelssen, Solveig Magdalene Ryan, Thomas Hiterarp Course Loomis. Paul X. Mitchell. Eugene DeC. Xyberg, Ralph Eugene Patterson. Olive Louise Rivet. Sarah T. Sands, Grace Ethel Taisey, Florence M. I’pton, Ethel Helen Manual Craming Course Barnard. Lawrence I). Biel, Lorenz M. Doty, Charles II. Dunkelberger, Langdon Fitzgerald. Maurice A. Huey, George Owen Jones, Willis B. Rankin, Renville S. Towle, Xeal C. Van Cleve, Reginald H Wider, Arthur H. Wvinan. Vincent E. Commercial Course Beers, Jesse Cedric Hamilton. Floy Katherine Hench, Mildred J. ♦Holniquist. Ranghild F.. McDonald. Hazel Alice ♦Honor Students. O’Xeill, Grace Lillian Samuelson, Ben C. Westervcld, Henry F. Woodhousc, Adelphia Curseb he poutljs toijo stutm—tfjus saitfj Penbleton faculty Mr. Coupcr, History Miss Roe, Latin Miss West, Mathematics Mr. Ackerson, Latin Miss Sliillock, German Miss Harris, Latin Mr. Evans, French Miss Docken. Mathematics Miss Thomas, English Miss Lagerstrom, Mathematics Miss Warren, English Miss Sterret, Drawing Miss Jeter, English Mr. Wilkins, Commercial Arithmetic Miss Young, Grammar Miss Gould, Latin Miss Case. Mathematics Miss Rossman, English Miss Donaldson, History Miss Smith. Drawing Miss Weston, Mathematics Mr. Towne, Physics Mr. Pendleton, English Miss Clifford. Botany Mr. Kargc, English Mr. Cook, Chemistry Miss Strohmeier, German Miss McMillan. Drawing Miss Hawes, History Mr. Moore, Manual Training Miss Mortenson, History Mr. Southworth, Manual Training Miss Bennett, Mathematics Miss Dana. Typewriting and Steno- Miss Long. English Miss Smith. English graphy. 2£le tb are tljcp Urtjo toorU tljnr teachers. “31t is to Haugf)” Crutijs anb Untrutbs about tlje Seniors. Great is the dignity and pomp with which the life of a Senior is surrounded. The under classmen regard his words as those of an oracle! The faculty defers to him in all things! Even the cook at the lunch counter seems to feel some subtle difference between his requests and those of the common herd, and hastens to do as he bids. ()f course the Class of Nineteen Hundred Eight is worthy of all this homage. Ear be it from us even to hint that such is not the case. This deference is but our proper due. But still at times all this does wear upon us and we wish that, for the moment, we might escape from the lime-light and go back once more, to our care-free Junior days. It is when we feel this mood upon us that the list of Hunkers mounts high in the sacred precincts of “A' Room. Then it is that “skippers ' drive the teachers to distraction. At such a time the pool room's balance waxes large and the Central Avenue bakeries, erstwhile deserted for our lunch-counter. have a steady stream of customers at all times but recess. Then grave Seniors may be seen casting dice upon the schoolhouse steps. But enough of our charming wicked ways! A little more of prattle such as this might cause you to think our pious bearing but a pose! The Senior mind craves knowledge! W hen Juniors we thought that all human learning lay within our grasp when Physics, the fascinating, carried us into a fairy-land of wonders. I low very much we had to learn at that self-complacent moment! Did we know of Beowulf, the mighty: Was it within our ken that Csedmon, Cynewulf and Bede had lived and written? 1 verily swear, the great name of Layoman itself meant nothing to a Junior. And Shakspeare. a man we thought was quite worth while, we do not pause for him now. Ah. no! Langland is the man for us! lmaginaries, parallelopipeds, surds and truncated prisms were all as Greek to onr unenlightened minds. What did C,� IE.. On mean to us? Nothing sweet. I'm sure. We would have dubbed it the vapid wanderings of an idle mind! And dear .Tineas himself! What would life be it we had never followed Dido and him in their merry journeyings beyond the River Styx? Just remember now how dear Dido gave Eneas the mitten when they met for the last time down in Tartarus, that very unpleasant place where Dido lived in a little grove with one of her former husbands. “3’nt so Ijappp, bp permission of .Saraf) ftibet. “3!t is to HaugT And those among us who were fortunate enough to be in the German department, how our little hearts thrilled with ecstaey. when as we came singing up the stairway on that December evening, the Christmas tree with all its glory, first came into sight! Toys for every one! The dearest little devils, and fine hobbyhorses too! Those horses may be seen any morning tied to the schoolhouse fence, ridden back and forth by their devoted owners. All these things have we learned this year: thus have our minds been broadened and deepened; and here we stand before you laden down with hard-gleaned knowledge. Politics, laden with subtle intrigue, has always had a great fascination for us. It has ever been our custom to plot and plan how we might accomplish our desires by devious and hidden methods. We could just as well have done it openly, you know: but then we would have missed all the excitement of the secret council. It gives one such delightful shivers to say, “Mist! the villain looks our way! 'The fiend will suspect if we part not! Farewell V’ When the first class assembly convened in solemn state early in September. many a familiar face was absent. Some had been “persuaded bv Mama” to take a five-year course and loitered meanwhile in T ” Room: while others had departed for far wider fields of learning. The elections, as usual, were hastened by the gnawing appetites of those present. “And wretches hung that jurymen might dine.” The Senior informals have proved as did those of last year, one of the pleasantest features of the Fast High school life. The great money returns from these affairs but deepens their value in the eyes of the worldly. For the second time the class decided to publish The Cardinal. The Seniors hope that this will be the first of a series of year books devoted to showing the School life as a whole. Early in the last term of our High School career, plans began to take shape for the Senior Class Play. Latent histrionic talent sprang into life on all sides. Pudding actors strutted through the hallways, filled the auditorium at all times, and might be seen on any street corner the center of fteginaU) ©ait Cleue Ijas some Uerp imnnutg maps, l e Ueeceb a tenberfoot out of 13c matching pennies, one 5tf) periob “3it is to Haugff an idle mob of street gamins, practicing their numerous stunts in a fit of absent-mindedness. A self-respecting Senior has thought it a disgrace these four months past to do anything but W altz” from class to class. W hat fun we had! If the audience enjoyed it half as much as we did. their opinion was sincere when they pronounced it the most enjoyable class play we have ever seen.” The Classes of January and June, Nineteen Hundred Kight, have left the school, as a memorial, a drop curtain and set of scenery for the Auditorium stage. They arc both very artistic and beautiful. '1 his gift was first used on the night of the Senior Play and excited great admiration. Now our four years are over and in a few short weeks the Class of Nineteen Hundred Kight will be only a pleasant memory which as the years go by will gradually sink into the misty indistinctness of the past. Looking back over our years at East High, a feeling of pride passes through us. as for a moment we stop to think what our Class has stood for in the life of the School. Surely it is the privilege of those who stand ready to pass out the door, to give rein to this feeling for an instant. In all social and dramatic events, the Class has equalled and exceeded the high-marks left by previous classes. In the publication of The Cardinal we have blazed a new trail and one that gives a fresh outlet for that School spirit which is one of East High's proudest boasts. Finally, for everything which has tended to better, cleaner, higher tone in the school,—to that the Class of Nineteen Hundred Eight has lent willing aid. After this feeling of pleasure at work well done, there follows a thrill of gratitude for that which has been done for us. W’e have had a most helpful and sympathetic faculty, and a Principal who has been our friend in time of trouble and in time of pleasure. If we have succeeded, the praise is theirs. As the gladiators of old cried as they entered the arena, “Cresar. te morituri salutamus!” So we. who are soon to be no longer in dear old East High, salute it! May it go on in the coming years, standing, as it stands now, for clean, democratic. American school-life! UDfjp hoes Catharine Roberts like JjBr. Span’s neto suit ? because it’s—Uiell, anpfjoUj, it isn’t Pink. � CtR PtOIltl JFatljer of Cluing UDeigljt 95.35 « UMtam Robson as Jje appears in tjje Hast act of i?is Hatest Success DettpSburg HlbbreSS” lr “Cfje Matinee 3bol” as fje appears in bis original melo dramatic success, “Sfrraino, tfje J an Bonfeep” £ong l its of tlje plap: “3’b cast mpfjalo at tfjp feet” ”3 neber come Ijome in tlje bark” (Ebttor’s Hote: Hotice lantern. I IDe speak of 23eorge $uep toitlj girt, UDIjo takes cures for fjis obesity; Shtb tufjen in tfje fall, l)t gets out for foot ball, Cbe signal be likes is J. C.” 4 Cl)t Welcome I0alfe The day was dark and clouded o'er, Twas on a Monday blue. When, as the custom is in school. No one his lessons knew. It happened in a first-hour class. Upon this Monday blue. The boys, to make the time seem short. And work the teacher too. Kept asking cpiestions, this and that. How experiments to do; Till one lad said. “Pray give me. sir. Some litmus paper blue.” The shelf whereon such things are kept W as dark as dark could be; So to one lad the teacher said. “Turn on that light for me.” The boy his nitric acid left. And, hastening to obey. Me reached above to turn the switch. With face the other way. At once a bell began to ring ; We thought the period o’er; l.ut soon we heard the school above All hastening to the door. Yet still above the tumult loud The bell rose high and higher. And then we knew, as did the boy, He'd turned the alarm of fire. Straightway, before the teachers knew. The crowd was in the street, And tho, of course, they hated fire. They thought it quite a treat. Tfjc l©elcome l©alfe Xow thus, in brief, it happened. Upon this Monday blue. The whole school got an outing, Tho it lasted minutes few. And day by day we're hoping. As experiments we make. That someone else, with good intent. Will make the same mistake. Editor’s Note: Editors. Found in a book lent by Mr. I� arnard to one of the IDanteb: SL buptr on tfje tun too ob car. for the (seating Uaeble.” Special agents, jftortooob Demonstrations aitb l ubson. anp bap 3L Page of Himericfes There stands Petcler a-munching a bun. Me is the lad that's all chucked full of fun, When the side-walls do creak. You may know he did speak. For his forte is the side-splitting pun. Willard Morse is a gay man and chipper, And he wears a tan belt-buckle slipper. When he looks toward the “West,” He heaves up his breast. Saying. “My, how I wish I could skip’er!” Two mosquitoes once lit on the features Of two beautiful peroxide blonde creatures. When asked by what right. They said. “We’re not tight. We’re just watching the game from the bleaehei Cfjat ®lb pal aub 3 In those of you. gentle reader, whose misfortune it has been to be deprived of the joy of country life during your early youth, the experiences herein set forth will probably fail to arouse any kindred emotions, or strike any like chord of instinctive love of nature. And a misfortune. indeed, it is to have lost from your life that feeling of wide freedom and exultation that comes from inhaling the early, life-giving morning air and listening to the tumultuous song of the woodland folk, your heart and very soul attuned and your whole body instinct with life and the joyousness of it all. To have missed that strange and hallowed feeling that comes in the early, early morning, when the mysterious dawn, breeze-cool and grateful, fans your cheek, when the birds are just breaking forth in joyous riot of song, when the sun has just tinged the eastern sky and has thrown over the earth that curious aspect which can be described by no better word than Dawn, is a distinct loss. You feel queer and overawed, as if you were witnessing the birth of all things. Allow the atmosphere of the most perfect day you can recall to permeate your mind: and then in a picture of a rolling, grassy country, introduce a district schoolhouse, whitewashed and belfried, nestling at the foot of a rather high, overshadowing hill. Place yourself and your fellow adventurer on the far side of the hili. and approach the schoolhouse with dusty and hurried feet. You must, of course, carry yourself back to your tenth or twelfth year, and your dress must be that of the average country lad of that age.—straw hat. shirt, jeans, and a piece of binder twine. You and your companion toil up the hill in feverish haste, and the knowledge that you are ■‘late ’ weighs down your footsteps like lead. In vour anxiety, your heart races until you are nearly stifled. You gain the top of the hill, your breath coming in short wheezes: you fling your hats to the ground and creep to the edge of the hill, peering over to see if by any possibility you are still in time, if perchance your clock may be fast, or the schoolma’am late. But no, you are doomed to disappointment, and your heart sinks anew as you look. Over all the familiar scene a sabbath stillness lies. Somehow everything looks different and unfamiliar.—the deadly calm where you have been accustomed to the hurrying feet of your comrades. the strange air of desolation about the building and its surroundings. Even the old friendly pump, standing on its worn planks with its dully shining handle at half cock, assumes an unfriendly air. All these have their effect on you, and you are afraid to approach. Ceacber: f©(jo is that absent hop in tlje toacant chair 3 See before me ? Cfjat ®lb Pal anb 3 You stand for a moment looking down : then the same felonious idea occurs to both of you. and you turn to each other with the same words on your lips, “Let's skip. Immediately the tenseness and feeling of restraint vanishes to give place to a joyous feeling of unrestrained freedom, which banishes every thought of care. You turn with a wild whoop, and tear down the hill, dinner-pails clattering, clutched in one grimy hand, your hat held in the other. Your bare feet scarcely touch the grateful, soft turf of the hillside. At the bottom, you turn sharply to the left with scarcely diminishing speed, the same thought in both your minds,—the swimming hole! Over the well-known paths you tear, that old pal and you, sometimes taking a crosscut through a grove of trees, again striking the cool, hard-packed path, sometimes vaulting a fence to tear across a green meadow, until, flushed and breathless, you stand panting, besides the well-loved hole. A second’s tug on the binder twine, and you are as free of encumbering raiment as any of Nature's children; and. as your bodies slip into the cool, fresh water, you realize how good it is to be alive. How sweet and refreshing the water feels as it laps about your heated body! How you splash and thrash around in sheer joy ! lint all good things must come to an end. even the joy of swimming, as many a sun-burned back has taught you. So before the sun has risen too high, you are out upon the blue-clay bank discussing your plans. Who can measure with mere words the happiness contained in a day's freedom in the country, with just the right spice of adventure in it to make it ideal? Who can adequately describe the joy of fishing with a new cut sapling for a pole and a piece of twine for a line? Who can picture the delight of the small boy when he discovers the jay’s nest, or daringly climbs the highest trees in search of the crow's egg? Who can tell of the long free tramp through the woods? Such joys must be lived to be known. And then the wholesome appetite that assails the far too meager contents of the dinner pail: the half-hour siesta, when the sun is at its height: the following plunge, never disappointing, never failing to arouse the same delights over again.—what phrases can equal the gladness of it all? In the afternoon you are the Indian chief beside his camp-fire, plotting the death of the pale faces; next you are a cow-boy, roaming the wild free plains on the pony which your imagination supplies: and then you are the baseball or football hero, bowing to the frenzied grandstands; or a jockey in his flaming colors perched on a spirited and powerful horse, leading under the wire by at least a length, amid the cheers of millions. ‘V:§ap, tobere is ftatfileen .ttfturpijp ?” 3 bon’t btioto, but 3 just Sato £rpfjpr 2£egm go up tljc ball.” Cfjat lb Pal anb 3H So tlio clay draws to a close; and. as four o'clock nears, your stomach informs you that school will soon he out. so you rouse yourself and turn back. l� ut not yet does the realization of the coming event in the woodshed dampen your spirits or prevent your full enjoyment of the remaining day. As you approach the schoolhouse along the dusty road, your anxious eye discovers by the white-pillared gate a little gingham-clad figure. You approach with a swagger, kicking up the dust with your bare feet. N on note with gratitude that she carries her lunch pail as if it were not entirely empty. Her eyes are large, partly in accusation ami partly in wonder at your daring. Her hair is thick, dark, and plaited half way down her back; but you note none of these details which you were wont to regard with such pleasure. You start down the road slowly, lingering at the side in the white clover blossoms, you striving to lead up to the subject of the dinner-pail, and she in silent and almost breathless admiration. At last you say carelessly: D’your maw give ve a lot to cat today?” “Yes.”—a pause—“there’s some left”—tentatively and timidly. You stride on in silence for a moment: then, with a careless movement, you crook your arm about the pail and jerk the cover off. You walk on engrossed in the enjoyment of the huge doughnut. Finally your companion ventures: “'I’eacher was awfully mad today.” Here is a subject vitally interesting, so you question her with a thought of your aloofness and erstwhile pose. “ hat’d she say?” you demand eagerly. “She as’t your sister if you were coming, and vour sister said, yes, you were, soon’s you watered the horses.” This is a death blow, indeed, to vour chances of escape, for you had some hopes that sister Nancy would either say she didn’t know, or keep still about it: but here she goes telling the first thing. “That’s always the way with these confounded girls.” you mutter wrathfully, and are silent and foreboding till your companion's gate is reached, where you leave her with a gruff. “’Night.” The ball game down the road a piece soon has you in its grip, and you are playing with all your might and main—hat off. sleeves rolled up, shirt open at the neck and yelling like mad from your vantage post as catcher of the crack nine. What care you for past or future bodily discomforts at this mad moment? Sweaty and dusty you toil with the rest of them. Sometime token you arc angry at tljc toorlb. make a list of all tofjont you toottlb keep out of fjeaben if pou belt) tfje keys. 3t uull cheer pou immensely. Dlb Pal anb 3 grinding vour teeth in rage at the butter-fingers in the field as some easy fly is muffed, and shouting your lungs out as Short’ makes a sensational stop of a hot liner and puts two men out. But the game comes to a close finally as the sun is well on its westward way; and, hot. tired and dusty, you start slowly home. Then indeed does depression attack your spirits; and you sneak around to the hack, let in the cows, feed the horses, and feverishly begin to throw down enough hay to last for a week, hoping in your heart of hearts that your father’s wrath will he melted by your evident desire to help—even to slave, weary as you are. You finally start for the house; for the chores are all done, and there is no further excuse for delaying in the barn. You meet him in the doorway, as you felt sure you would, and you somehow or other aren’t able to raise your eyes from the ground. You hastily seize a water pail, although it is half full, with the intention of postponing the reckoning as long as possible. But no. it may not be. William, come into the woodshed. You know it has come, and you set down the pail; and, after an appealing look towards your mother, who is busily bending over the range, you follow your father. After the event, you arc commanded to go to your room at once, and get into bed without any supper. Hot tears of shame fill your eyes as you realize that you must pass the hired man cn route, who has undoubtedly heard you in the woodshed. How light it seems, and how strange to be in bed at this time, and how difficult it is to go to sleep! But you finally doze off to be awakened sometime in the night by the slow creaking of the door and to find the room flooded with the light of the new moon. You do not move or give a sign of awakening, for you know what is coming. Your mother glides softly into the room, a tray in her hand, and noiselessly sets it down on the other side of the bed. She leans over and kisses you on your upturned cheek, but still you give no sign. She sits down on the edge of the bed and lays her hand on your shoulder. Are you sorry Willie?’’ she asks softly. Yes,”—you mutter shortly and sullenly. ‘‘You’ll never do it again, will you? Xo, rather penitently. She goes around the bed and brings the tray to a chair near to you : then she sits down, while you eat the lunch of cookies, bread and jelly, and a bowl of milk. When you have finished, she quietly gathers together the dishes and kisses you ever so lightly; but you do not know it. for you have snuggled down and are already sleeping the sleep of the just and conscience free. ROLAND O. PETELER. polmquist’s Hbnbgeb ; no toorbs tuitfi less tfian four syllables tolerateb. l rop Curtain photo hy €uxton of tbc Journal. Cfjc Memorial of tlje Class of ’08 It has been a custom, originated in those ancient times when East High School was not yet in its teens, and strengthened by succeeding generations, for each class to leave a memorial of itself as it passed out of the school. So many and so beautiful have been those left by preceding classes, that the class of 08 found it truly a difficult matter to choose a memorial. Indeed, our record for always doing the appropriate thing might have been broken, bad not a timely suggestion been offered 11s. It seems that the pupils of the Central High School, having no suitable place for entertainments, offered to buy a certain amount of scenery for our stage, if East High would furnish a curtain, and allow them the use of the auditorium. Here was an opportunity for 11s to leave something both useful and ornamental, something which the whole school could enjoy, and the class promptly accepted it. 'The January class of ‘08 agreed to pay half the amount for the curtain, and by the aid of our class play, we were enabled to pay the other half, and to buy. in addition, a new set of scenes. W e leave to all succeeding classes, this our testimonial of grateful remembrance: and hope that it will call to their minds that which we would say, if present: “We too. have spent here many of the happiest and best days of our lives: remember us!” Jt)r. llDrkstcr anb Carle bailie Jjabc cxprcsscb a bcsirc to attcnb the Hbintral some bap (prokaklp i ribap afternoon), just to see toljat tfjc brop curtain looks like. l e W )o Ctcturneb in tfje oonligfjt. Cast of Characters The W oman The Hoy The Voice of the Man (The scene is the shore of a lake, heavily wooded. The black reflection of the trees extends far out on the water. The night is cloudv and verv still.) The Boy (advancing from the wood): Shall 1 not aid thee, mother? Here the path drops suddenly. Here is a stone—a large stone and sunk deep into the earth. Look well, here is an overhanging bough, a strong oak-bough; 'tis shaped like some huge club. The Woman: Indeed, it is like some huge club which could be wielded only by a god. The Boy: Here is a tiny stream winding among moss and lichens: a careful step and it is past. The Woman: It rises yonder on the hillside; all surrounded by ferns it rises. The Boy: Hast thou seen its source? The Woman: There are little blue flowers among the ferns which rise where the water rises. 'file Boy: And dost thou know all the secrets of this place? The W oman: Almost as well as thee. I know this place and all the secrets of it. I have come here oft times; yea. even ere thy birth have I come here. 'Phe Boy: W hy earnest thou here so often? There is’pretty sand down by the water; didst thou play with that? 'Phe Woman : Xav. I came here but to dream. The Boy (wonderinglv): To dream? The Woman: To think of many things. The Boy (brightening): 1 know. To watch the big white cloud-birds fly across the sky? To see them fly across the water when the water looks like another skv? To look up and downward and see the same things? Is that why you came? The Woman: Yes. to watch the clouds fly; to watch the reflected clouds fly; to look up and down and see the same things. 43corge i?ucp, tfjc last of tfjc 0’C ara’s. i e W )o tourneb in ttie ©oonltgfjt The Hoy: They arc so perfect in the water that 1 try to pick them up, but always they sail away. The Woman: Like dreams they sail away. The Hoy: Why can’t they stay? They arc so beautiful. The Woman: That is why,—they are too beautiful. The Hoy: And do dreams always vanish away like clouds? The Woman: Sometimes I almost think that dreams are but a vision of some unknown reality and that they will not always sail away. The Boy: 1 do not understand about that unknown, but I like to believe in some dreams. The Woman : Believe in the sweet dreams now and sometime— The Boy: Sometime? The Woman: —when thou art older thou canst believe in all dreams if thou wilt. One must believe in darkness to believe in light. The Hoy: I cannot understand. The Woman: I know—I know thou canst not. The Hoy: Yet go on. I like to hear thee speak like that although I cannot understand. 'The Woman : Some dreams are memories of some far time : and others, visions of what lies before. The Hoy: I dreamed I was a warrior and held a sword. I wonder if that ever will come true? The Woman: A warrior!—and thou so little yet? The Boy: I am almost a man and I would fight for thee. 'Phe Woman: Thou bravest one! Hut go not yet awhile: I need thee here with me. 'Phe Boy: Awhile I yet will stay with thee. 'i'he Woman: All that I have is thee, and dreams. 'Phe Hoy: And dreams? 'Phe Woman: Dreams of a coming of some great joy, of something lost that will return to me; a hope, a dream. The Hoy: Mother, you stop as if— 'Phe Woman: As if? The Boy: I do not know. It seemed as if thou wert about to cry. 'Phe Woman : To cry ? 'Phe Hoy: As if what thou wert saying, hurt. 5 onte one tells us tfjep like the toap Josephine hoes hrr hair on Cuesbaps anb Churshaps. Oerpotte take notice. 2frut 2?etoare the bengeful glance of 2frratamp George. i e l©bo UteturnEb in tfje Moonlight 'I'he Woman: It is the night. This heaviness weighs on one like— like a cloak. The Boy: The clouds are heavy. The Woman: The water too. The Boy: Let us go hack. The Woman: Xot yet. It seems as if— The Boy: What? The Woman: As if a breeze would rise ere long; maybe the moon will shine later. Art thou tired? 'I'he Boy: I cannot sleep. The Woman (clasping him): Come, let me hold thee close and 1 will sing to thee. The Boy (with a start): I fear! The Woman (a breeze rises and the clouds part a little, only to display other clouds beyond): What—what is it that thou fearestr The Boy: That cloud face! The Woman: Where? The Boy : There. Canst thou not see it! r The Wbman: Yes, tis fading even now. Why didst thou fear it? The Boy: I saw it bend above me once when I was very small. 1 screamed— 'I'he Woman: —“Father, thou lnirtest me!” 'I'he Boy: Thou rememberest? The Woman: Yes. 'I'he Boy: And as I screamed another face, a beautiful face, forced his away, and I was happy when that beautiful one smiled. The Woman: I know. I too was happy then. The Boy: Both are gone now. 1 have never seen them since, until now I saw— The Woman: Both have faded, like dreams. Yet one is very real. 'I'he Boy: Thou dreamest of the face of him who saved me? 'I'he Woman: Yes. 'I'he Boy: And will he come? The Woman: He will come. The Boy: The sky is a little clearer. ©an Ctten anb averts are tfje beportment champions of “H” room; also Heabentoortb anb 3 tacp. life l©i)o Cteturneb in tfje Moonlight 'I'lie W oman : There are no faces in the clouds now. The Hoy: Again, it is smooth and dark. The Woman: Yet is not that a little light upon the water?—a faint light far away? The Hoy: Xav, I see no light. The W oman : It is a pale rose-color and yet not rose-color. It is more like a single sunbeam seen thru many mists. 'Ihe Hoy: Mother! The Woman: Why dost thou cry out suddenly that way? The Uov: Thou lookest so strangely, as if thou saw’st a dream out there across the water. The Woman: It is, it is a dream. A dream of that face which bent over thee once. The Hoy: That face! Whose face? Ihe Woman: A stranger’s—yet not a stranger's. The Hoy: I cannot see that face. 1 do not understand. The Woman : I know not how to tell thee all I feel. The Hov: It is that sweet dream face. That I understand. The Woman: It is more than a dream. Can'st thou not see it? The Hoy: 1 see it not. The Woman: So beautiful, and yet thou can’st not see it? The Hoy: ’Tis a trick of the waters. The clouds are thinning and there is more light. The mists deceive thee. The Woman: The mists do not deceive me. That face is there: tar across the waters, but nearer than before. The Hoy: In the farthest distance is no face. A breeze hath risen. It will soon grow chill. Let us go home, my mother. Leave the dream. The Woman: I will wait for his coming. The Hoy: His coming? The Woman He who cometh, cometh fast,—speeding swiftly over the water in a light craft. The Hoy: By what name is he known? 'Fhe Woman: He who cometh in the moonlight needs no name. The Hoy: Mother, thou dreamest. 1 see. I feel thee here. I hear thy voice, and yet— X i ftoc to a Dirgil Class: “Hub token tor get to tyabeS—etc., etc.” Cijis is an age Uifjeit people like to look far into tlje future, but toe Seniors must brato the line sometofjere. l©fjo Cteturneb in ttjc j oonltgfjt The Woman: I wake and thrill with life! The Boy: Thou waitest for a dream. The Woman: Who comes is living, not a dream. The Boy: Xor craft, nor mystic craft bearing a nameless one. is there on all the waters. The Woman (the moon breaks out): Look ! Look! The moon is breaking through the clouds— The Boy: The little waves are all like silver in its light. The Woman : —and there he comes: and his craft, like the waves, is all of silver; and how swiftly it glides! The Boy: The waters show no bark upon their distance. The Woman: Thou art very blind. See bow glorious his face! The Boy: Mother, thou too art blind. 1 have a fear— The Woman : 1 low straight he stands! And see how shines his armor! 1 seem to hear him call to me. Or is it some joyous song he sings? The Boy: All is silence. No song is heard. The Woman: He sings as he comes. Nearer, nearer, out of the moonlight, at last thou art come to me out of the land of dreams! The Man’s Voice. Come I swiftly ( hit of the moonlight. Out of the silver night, Calling aloud to thee, Joyfully calling thee Down to the sharp-prowed craft,— Down to the speeding craft That sails o’er the waters; Out to the white moonlight. Out to the silver night. (The woman advances with outstretched arms toward the water. She falls suddenly forward and lies white in the full moonlight.) The Boy: Mother! Mother! The moon hath taken her. The moon and the dream-face have taken her away. Curtain. UDIjcn asfeetj if fje Utas going to get thru in Ocrptfjing. Soljn Crosbn replied “flDell 3 still babe jraitb.” I Cfje Juntor= emor of 1907 Tllc MaSonic Temple was converted into a veritable fairyland on the ni ht of Friday. the seventeenth of May. PX)7. The occasion was the annual ball given by the East High School Juniors to the departing Seniors, and the friendly spirit of the two classes was shown in the decorating scheme, wherein the two class banners and colors were profusely intermingled. The walls and cross-beams of the ball-room were aglow with innumerable softly tinted lights. Flags, together with the black and gold pennants of the Juniors, were draped about artistically, forming a most attractive background for the dancers. Rossiter's Orchestra, concealed behind a o bank of palms, furnished the music for one hundred guests who participated. The programs, designed by Miss Janet Ferguson and Philip Ray. were dainty white booklets embossed with the Junior pin in gold and tied with white satin ribbon. Frappc was served in the hall by four Junior girls. The reception-room was done in blue and gold in honor of the Seniors. Miss Mary S. Evans acted as Mistress of Ceremonies, assisted by the following patronesses: Mesdames Y. F. Webster. Y. T. Coupcr. T. S. Roberts, S. T. Ferguson, J. II. Ray. R. G. Brown and G. P. Powers. The arrangements were in the hands of the social committee, of which Miss Vivian Norwood was chairman, assisted by the following sub-committees : Refreshments, Miss Helen Day: Decorations, Grace Power: Engraving, Edwin C. Brown: Music. Selden Brown: Invitations. Ruth Knowlton and Josephine C rary: Arrangements. Leonard E. Rollins. 3f btssipation interferes toitfj pour stubies, gibe up tlje stubies. ®ije 1908 ‘'©out's It would be hard to dud three jollier class parties than the series of informals given by the ‘08-ers in the last two years. The first was Mven in Wilson Hall at the close of the 1906 football season, the decorations being decidedly of a football nature. In January 1907. the second Junior Informal was given—just a plain everyday informal and loads of fun. Hallowe'en of the same year was the date chosen by the class, as “Seniors. for the third party. The hall on this occasion was a woodland bower, relieved by grinning jack-o'-lanterns. It served as a final class gathering and was thoroughly enjoyed by the members. pou toant to abhertise a neto suit, inquire of l . 0. HeaUeutoortlj. J etu metljotj - sure to attract. Come into room some morning, at 8:34, in all pour cfjeckeretJ splenbor. SHarp of 1908 October 17.—Josephine Feltus requested Mr. Cook to remove the wtizzy green worm from the lapel of his coal. It made her so nervous! October 26.—The Seniors did honor to Chaucer by celebrating his 507th anniversary, by a pilgrimage to Wilson’s Hall. November 6.— hire! hire! Only it wasn’t. Aldcn Llwcll merely mistook the bell for the electric light button, thereby giving us a chance to escape at least five minutes of the first period. Would that he had not graduated so soon! November 19.—Our dear instructor of literature actually appeared without a red necktie! We hardly recognized him, but since it only happened once, we forgave him. January 23.—'Phis is quite the most important date in the entire history of our class, for it was on this day, that George came to school with one of those perfectly awful pompadours. He was showered with water, lemons and even cats, but it didn’t phase George, because hadn’t somebody told him lie looked just grand! January 27.—Lawrie rode a hobbyhorse to Lit-class. We are very much surprised at you. Lawrence! March 27.—An interesting debate was held in A” Room, on Woman’s Suffrage. After it was over, the president asked for remarks, and then he asked some of the girls to give their opinions, as he himself was personally (with great emphasis) interested. April 2.—Miss Roe is always so thoughtful of every one. Today she tried to catch the plastering as it fell from the ceiling in her room so that the crash, which it would otherwise have made, would not disturb or frighten anyone below. She probably won’t do that the next time. April 8.—The Senior girls had a meeting and decided to have the class colors carried out in the flowers for graduation instead of the school color, as is usually the custom. The flower chosen was the sunflower and each boy is to carry one. with the exception of Lawrence, who will be allowed to wear a Poppe. April 10.—Mr. Couper called us a lot of babies today, but. nevertheless, we feel sure he’ll miss us when we’re gone. THE SENIOR CLASS PLAY MARCH 20. 1908. GRACE E. GERRISH, Director errp UMboto Octette (A Burlesque on the Merry Widow Waltz.) The Merry Widow ........................................Helen Day The Widows. Catherine Roberts Vivian Norwood Ethel Upton Janet Ferguson The Happy Youth...............................Langdon Dunkelberger The Boys. George Huey Vincent Wyman Lawrence Barnard Earle C. Bailie “dje {Map's tljr tljing.” ( )t Jortoarb Pass One-Act Football Farce. DRAMATIS PERSONS. 'Pom Hurlburt._Captain of Yale’s Football Team, '07: a strategist in and out of the game ------- Earle C. llailie Percy Suvdam,—His friend at 'i ale. 05 Alfred Chester.—Their chum. N ale, '05 Miss Cornelia Suvdam.—A Chrysanthemum “bud Philip Ray Willis Jones Ruth Know 1 ton Nellie Suvdam.—Her niece, and Tom’s fiancee Kate Chester.— Her chum, Percy’s fiancee Florence Taisev Florence Craig Mary Scribner,—A reporter, who adds spice to the situation. Josephine Crary Mrs. () Hvnn. 1 lie janitress, who takes a gloomy view of football, Flov Hamilton Don’t let it fall! pick it up, pick it up!” as .fBiss 6erri fj lobes to sap. Hobe in a Cop An Original One-Act Pantomime By Miss Grace Gerrish. SCENE- A Toyshop in Nuremberg. TIME—Present. DRAMATIS PERSONAE. Martin Kraus,,-Toymakcr ------ George Huey Grctchen,—His Daughter ------ Vivian Norwood Karl.—Her Lover ------ Langdon Dunkelbergcr Mrs. Smythe-Jones, of Oshkosh - Kitty Humphrey Gladys Smythe-Jones,—Her Daughter, of Oshkosh Katherine 1 hompson Reginald Smythe-Jones,—Her Son, of Oshkosh - - illard Morse COLONIAL DOLLS. Marjorie......................................Janet Ferguson Richard.............................................Philip Ray DUTCH DOLLS. Katrina............................---- - Dorothy Bell Hans..........................................Leonard F'aegrc JAPANESE DOLLS. Koto San - -- -- -- -- - Helen Day Wun Lung - -- -- -- - Lawrence Barnard FRENCH DOLLS. Fifi..........................................Catharine Roberts Jerome......................................... Vincent Wyman Dances drilled by Miss Ethel Malcolm. 3t is reported tljat Hen J aegre Ijas Ijab a proposition to go on tije Daubebille circuit as a Ujeigfjt lifter, next pear, as a result of tfje Orpbeum manager’s seeing our class plap. entertainment at east tiftglj J djool It was ably demonstrated to 900 enthusiastic Minneapolitans last evening, at the entertainment given by the graduating class of ’OS of the Hast Side High School and assisted by the musical organizations of the school, that Minneapolis has material for the production of musical comedies and the presentation of difficult dramatic pieces. The students who participated in the pantomime, the burlesque, or the farce, of which three features the performance consisted, deserve much praise for the excellent manner in which they executed their respective assignments. After an opening selection by the school orchestra. “Love in a Toyshop. an original one-act pantomime by Miss Grace Gerrish. was given. The scene disclosed the interior of a toyshop with a row of animated dolls on either side. The dolls were arrayed in costumes of Colonial times, of Germany, of Japan, and of France, and each couple went through the national dance of the country it represented. 'The Merry W idow Octette,” a burlesque on the popular waltz, was depicted on the lloulevard dc Promenade at the present time and gave ample scope for the abilities of Helen Day and I.angdon Dunkelberger. who assumed the roles of the Merry Widow and the Happy Youth. Miss Day’s costume was enough to set Elfie Ray or Vesta Victoria wild with envy, and in this respect Mr. Dunkelberger was a close second. The chorus of the widows was charming in the fullest sense of the word. The East Side Quartet rendered several selections, which were heartily applauded by the audience. The Forward Pass,” a one-act football farce, was presented with all the abandon of college life. There is no one side of life better known to the student than his own and there is none that he is adapted to portray as well. The farce is a well written one and its presentation last evening brought forth rounds of laughter. All the characters were well cast and the business” of the play was worked out excellently.—Clipping from The Tribune. Uabenber anfa olb lacc.iDiss hillock at tljc Junior -Senior. Probe Cfjep are Victors East High School Seniors Entertain With Vaudeville. “Love in a Toy Shop,” by Miss Grace Gerrish, the “Merry W idow Octet. and ‘The Forward Pass. were the dramatic vehicles with which the members of the graduating class of the East High School demonstrated their histrionic ability last evening. The thespians were assisted by the musical organizations of the school. A row of animated dolls in the toy shop in Colonial, French, Japanese and German costumes, cleverly executed the national dances of those countries. Helen Day and Langdon Dunkelberger distinguished themselves in the “Merry Widow Octet. 'I'he football element of the school need make no apologies to “Strong-heart for the realistic production of a gridiron drama, “The Forward Pass.” a football farce.—Clipping from The Journal. COMMITTEE. Josephine Crary. Chairman. George Huey Dorothy Bell Florence Craig Earle C . Bailie. Business Manager ffltnu to bap: “.Scramble eggs!, a la £[p anb Points be25ccf Crust, colb. 23crtl)a 1. £t)tffielb Clarice l?crtig Carle C. 23ailic Ctjc Steals of Houtfj It is evening. The great red sun has died its daily death, and now nothing remains of it but a deep tinge of rose-color in the west. Over in the woods a mother-bird is twittering softly on her nest, and the wind seems scarcely to dare to whisper among the leaves. From far, far oft', comes the faint tinkle of a bell, as the fanner lad shuts up his last charge in the friendly barn. A singular and solemn hush pervades the world, for it is Nature s hour of prayer. The very atmosphere has suddenly become clearer, more transparent, until one feels that if he could gaze but a little farther, or listen but a little more intently, he could pierce the very mystery of Nature. Gradually the shades deepen, and the blue encroaches more and more upon the crimson west. It is that hour when one can almost feel the rush of time; we mark the first star shine forth where a moment before was clear sky; we turn, and behold many. In a moment the whole heaven is gleaming with innumerable fires. At last Mother Nature has finished her devotions, has gently laid the day to rest and called forth the stars. Wut look’, from yonder house, looming black against the star-bright sky, starts forth a shadowy form, seemingly a youth, if one may tell by his slender figure and eager motions. Darkly outlined, he stands with folded arms, gazing into the deep blue of the heavens, the endless vistas of the stars. Dong he remains thus, motionless, lost in his thoughts to all other things. Inspired with awe, he tries to read the heavens as the ancients read them, and seeks to learn the message of the stars. lie ponders on the Cf)t Steals of goutf) immensity of the universe which he can sec. and thinks of the vast space beyond his mortal vision, stretching out for ever and ever, until his mind falters at the verv thought of it. lie considers how many thousand, thousand years these very stars, revolving in these very orbits, have shone upon the earth: and how many myriads of ages beyond the measure of man’s mind they will continue in their endless, solitary course. In reverent admiration, he ga .es on the heavenly bodies, seemingly fixed and motionless, and marvels to remember that they are sweeping on through space at a speed swifter than thought can follow them. He thinks how man's so-called “great” machines move with a roar and a rattle and a clang, while these. Nature's engines, rush on with an infinitely greater velocity, but with a silence, deep, intense. And as he looks and wonders, he thinks of the insignificance of man. the littleness of his accomplishments in comparison with the sublimity of Nature. “Such as these stars,” he cries, are great men! They move through the world with no noise or ostentation; they seek no admiration; yet they draw men to them by a power as resistless as the sun’s, and warm the world with the rays of their genius. Would that I might be such an one! Oh youth, how noble is your ambition ! how heavenly, and some would say, how impossible! “Of what use,” demands the scoffer,” is an ideal like this, however beautiful and inspiring it may seem? We have had our ideals, we have lived our lives; and we know that the will and wish of man cannot change the decree of the fates one jot, or make him happier.” Shall we believe these men? They are older and more experienced than we; perhaps they are right. It may be that man is just a creature of circumstance, driven aimlessly about at the caprice of the fates; it may be that no purpose or ideal of his can have any influence over his life, lint youth rebels against such a doctrine: we cannot believe it. We feel our youth, we feel the warmth of life, impelling us to action. We are ambitious; we arc enthusiastic; we are young. The whole world is before us. with its opportunity and its joy. In a little time we shall be the world, and it shall lie with us whether it becomes better or worse. We know our strength and we rejoice in it. It is for us to choose our part in the work of the world, and there is no limit to our choice. There is scarcely anything in the whole universe, which, if sought for constantly, earnestly, and faithfully, cannot be granted to youth. All things are possible; all things are attainable. The universe is teeming with riddles to be solved, with fast-sealed doors to be unlocked. Cf)t 3beals of goutlj The very calory of life is its potentiality, and this, too, is its joy. What man could be more pitiable, more utterly wretched, than he who understands all things, before whose eyes all the secrets of life and Nature lie revealed? He can know no failure because lie can know no attempt, 'flic more man yearns and struggles toward his ideal, the greater will be his joy at its attainment. No matter if success be slow, no matter if it come not at all: the higher the ideal, the nobler the character. Is it not better to be guided by a star with its pure, unwavering light, than by the flaring brilliancy of a nearer and lower fire? In pursuit of the lofty ideal, man in his impatience, becomes discouraged: he doubts, he grieves, he despairs. Tho ever toiling upward, he seems to approach no nearer his ideal than a star which swings ever round and round its sun and never reaches it. Yet he struggles onward until the orbit of his life is finished tho his aim may be still unachieved. And lo! he has done a greater and a nobler thing: for like the star, he has completed the circle of perfection, the perfection of a consistent life held fast to a never-changing goal. As the years roll on, ideas inevitably expand or contract, new and larger views arc granted us. The earth, the heavens, life and death, all remain unaltered. but we ourselves have changed. We look upon the phenomena of the universe through older eyes: we think about them wiser and larger thoughts. And in the course of the years, our very ideal, the aspirations of our youth, may become inadequate, as we feel the need of loftier motives. Thru our widened outlook, we discover that the star toward which we have yearned and striven, which was the end of our every desire, that very star is circling about another of greater magnitude, another, far brighter, than itself. Then, indeed, we may lay aside the older ideal, like an outworn garment: and full of the joy of progress, we may say in the beautiful words of the poet:— “Build thee more stately mansions. () my Soul. As the swift seasons roll: Leave thy low-vaulted past! Let each new temple, nobler than the last. Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast Till thou at last art free. Leaving this outgrown shell by life’s unresting sea.” BERTHA LILLIAN SHEFFIELD. “ Trulp a t©onberful Jl£an toas Catus Julius Caesar “Truly a wonderful man was Caius Julius Caesar. Battles five hundred he fought and a thousand cities he conquered.’ In the immensity of his success and the varied nature of his achievements Caesar stands without a peer in all the World’s History. He was no mere conqueror, as was Alexander the Great. The series of campaigns which give him the name of “the greatest military leader the world has ever seen was only the expression of one phase of his genius. He stands among the world’s mighty men. winning high honor in many and widely different fields: Caesar, the orator, whose every speech was a block-in the foundation of the Roman Empire: Caesar, the man of letters, who gave us in his Commentaries the perfect hook on military matters: Caesar, the warrior, whose resistless legions stemmed the rising tide of barbarian invasion and made it possible for Rome to hold her proud position as Mistress of the World for centuries; above all Ctesar. the statesman and organizer, whose surpassing genius changed the tottering Roman Republic into the greatest Empire the world has ever seen. To most of us, Caesar, the orator, is unknown. But that he was a master in this art. Cicero himself, the greatest orator in Rome bears witness. This man, who hated Caesar personally, says that as a speaker he was incomparable, that the dignity and weight of his utterances could be equalled by no other man in Rome. Caesar regarded this great gift as a means, not an end. While oratory was Cicero’s master, it was Caesar’s slave. Cicsar never sought to sway the fickle mob by the polished grace and beauty of his diction. His words were those of the clear-visioned statesman who sees wrongs and strives to right them. Cicero’s oratory makes you cry, “How great the art! Caesar’s. “How great the message! The figure of Caesar, the author, is as many sided as that of Caesar, the man. His works are held to be the court of last resort in the Latin Sciences and Grammar. As poet and author of tragedies, his work is among the best. But we moderns think of Caesar, the writer, not as of the cloistered scholar, deep learned in the lore of the ages, but as the man of destiny, who writes of history in the making. After darkness had fallen over the great Roman camp, after the campaign plans had been discussed and settled, after sleep “Crulp a IDonberful an toas Caius 3ultu$ Caesar” iia l sealed ihe weary eyes of all but the watchful nightguard. then, amid that silent host, by the light of dim flickering tapers, Caesar, the Imperator, became Caesar, the Historian. Then it was that he wrote his superb Commentaries. They remain today, after two thousand years, unequaled. In their terse perfection they stand unique in all Latin literature. 11 is very method of treatment shows the simplicity and greatness of the man. He presents the unadorned facts and leaves us to draw our own conclusions. In no place does he strive to influence our opinion of any of the men of whom he writes. Here. Gesar. the man, remains in the indistinct background as the figure of some god of old who. with certain knowledge, directs his forces in the game of life. Next Caesar, the warrior, the conqueror, towers gigantic against the red sky of pillage and war, the man who Shakespeare says, “did bestride the narrow world like a Colossus. Our weaker minds can scarcely grasp his mighty work, much less his overwhelming triumph. Conceive all Europe in the throes of a great barbarian invasion, unchecked hordes of savages who swept on and on. resistless as the titles of the ocean. Twice before had Rome been saved from this northern inundation, by a miracle of the gods alone. And now this was his task, to construct barriers strong enough to dam back the rushing current of this seething flood. At first the struggle seemed hopeless: like the hydra of old, where one tribe was cut down, two grew up with double vigor. Finally in Belgium, after Herculean labors, the tide turned. It was a summer evening: the slanting rays of a setting sun cast lengthening shadows over a gloomy forest. The long weary march was over. The invincible Roman army ceased their advance, and spread themselves out along the quiet river bank, preparing the camp for the night. Suddenly, without a moment’s warning, the forest, on the opposite bank, bristled with men. They swarmed down the bank, forded the river, and hurled themselves upon the defenceless Romans. All was confusion ! the two legions which bore the brunt of the attack had no time to reach their standards, but were forced to fight where they stood. Panic seized them! Rout seemed certain! A red-clad figure dashed into their midst, snatched a sword from a dying soldier and sprang into the thick of the fight, encouraging, praising, crying “Venus ictrix!” 1 hen the shadowy old forest echoed back that great Gesarian battle cry. sounded from thousands of Ro- “Crulp a (©onberful toas Cams 3ultus Caesar” man throats. With more than mortal effort the Romans rallied and forced the Xervii back across the stream. The day was won. Five hundred from all those sixty thousand remained to tell the tale. Caesar! the Master of Men. Caesar! the Idol of his Troops had triumphed when all the discipline of Rome had failed. It was the cumulative force of such stupendous victories, repeated over and over again, that finally brought about Caesar's triumph. After seven continuous years in the field, Central Europe became a Roman province; and Imperial Rome was preserved from the barbarians for four hundred years to fulfill her mission as the body thru whose arteries the life-giving blood of the Christian religion should flow. Last and most glorious of all: Ciesar. the far-seeing diplomat and governor appears. This man was not another Xapoleon laying waste and desolating every land within his path. When Ciesar left a land subdued, law and order were supreme. Freed from the dissensions of rival factions for the kingship, placed on a firm business basis once more, life soon resumed its normal aspect and the conquered came at length to consider the Roman victory as a blessing. lie made the leaders in the subdued nations his friends: and such was his magnetic power, that men who came in contact with his personality would follow Caesar to the ends of the earth. Two years only he reigned : two years of peaceful rule. Yet in that time he accomplished far more than the greatest of monarchs have done in many years, and his plans if carried out. would have revolutionized all future history. Froude says. ‘‘He fought his battles to establish some tolerable degree of justice in the government of this world, and he succeeded. tho he was murdered for doing it.” But what was death to Caesar? The matchless glory of his fame but grows from age to age. Many a man has been supreme in one task. But where is there another whose triumph was great enough in any of four fields to make his name live today as one of the greatest men of the ages? Caesar, the orator, the author, the general, and the governor, stands forth supreme! The greatest figure in the pagan world, the greatest personage of antiquity, one of the few great makers of the World’s History. His fame is born not of things written and said, but of the arduous greatness of things done. EARLE CONKLIN BAILIE. “Cfte Purple Habp” The old Harlow place beyond our orchard fence was an ancient while house, with sleepy green shutters faded by the sun. and with the relies of a garden stretching along one side. Its fence gate had been locked and its shutters closed ever since Tommy and I could remember. We didn’t mind the gate; all we had to do was to go to the farthest end of our orchard, scramble over the fence, and we found ourselves in a bed of choice weeds in the Harlow garden. But the shutters were inexorable. No expense of fingernails and muscle could make them budge. Carrie was tall enough to peer thru one knot-hole. Carrie was our one near neighbor’s daughter, thirteen years old. all elbows and angles, and with more than her share of the world’s wisdom. Carrie knew everything. Whether she really saw anything thru this hole we never could make out. She would screw up her face, take a look, look at us askance, and nod slowly and awfully, then look in some more, then nod again, till Tommy, whose mind at that time was full of the horrors of Bluebeard, grew to the firm conviction that every room was locked and filled with the murdered wives of the last Harlow that lived there. Then Tommy and I went away to spend a month with our uncle, and when we got back, lo! the shutters and gate were open, and somebody had moved in! Carrie told us about it that evening in the barn. “They was a hard man an’ a hard girl first, and for two clays they scrubbed and renched things inside and out, and then the Purple Lady came. 'The hard man an’ the hard girl went away an’ now the Lady’s over there by herself, an’ she’s crazy with wearin’ purple clothes an’ she’s awful beautiful. 1 was over there the day after she came an’ 1 looked thru the window to see how the house was fixed inside and what d’ye think! They wasn’t no chairs nor nothing all down stairs, an’ they ain’t yet! She lives up in one big front room and stays there, tho once in a while she dasst to come out into the yard; and then she smiles awful sad an grand an sorrowful at me like sit she’d like to say. ’Caroline, let me lay my head on your faithful heart and pour out my secret on your bosom. Swear you’ll never tell—Cross your heart and hope to die!’ But she dassn’t.—they won’t let her. Bore thing!” and Carrie indulged in a sigh of unutterable tragedy. “I think I’ll give her my gold fish and mv shaky pudding the next time we have it.” began Tommy generously. “Xaw.” retorted Carrie in gutteral scorn. Xaw. it ain’t that she’s starved. Tommy,—you don’t understand. She don’t care for nothin’ to eat. Xaw. we’ll serenade her. Tommy, you can be sopranna: Xina. you be the alto, an’ I’ll be the tenner an’ the bass. “All right! I shouted fired to enthusiasm; “come on. “Well, maybe that’s the way you was brought up to do serenades:’’ scolded Carrie, “but 1 wasn’t. People don’t do it till it’s too dark to see anything: then besides they ain’t no moon tonight. What do you want a moon for? Why, to see with, of course. And we’ve got to have a banjo tied with a ribbon round vour neck— “Ci)t Purple Uabj ” “My neck?’ I asked joyfully. • o, mine. But you can carry the pail of ice water, so ’sit we get hot. Xow tomorrow well look in the almanac for the first night that they’s a moon, and then—” Carrie nodded her head impressively, got to her feet in a manner that was effective if not graceful, and departed for home. The almanac marked as the most auspicious day one two weeks from thence, when the moon’s face was white and entire. In the meantime, the Purple Lady lived on her uneventful existence. Yes, it was as Carrie had said. She did wear lavender, or lavender and white most of the time, and she did keep in the house a good deal, and she was beautiful and serious and sad and altogether lovely. 1 had not Carrie’s easy confidence in making advances, but I got into the habit of dropping sundry bouquets of un-namable wild flowers over the fence, and they were always purple or lavender. It is possible that she spied them and cherished them for her unknown adorer’s sake, but more likely they withered into oblivion among the hot weeds of her garden. The two weeks wore themselves out at last. The day dawned hot and muggy, as August days will do, a veil of haze floating over the sun. All day the veil thickened and wadded itself together, till by evening, the clear sky was miles oft and irrevocable. 'Pommy and I had had our waterpail ready for days, but we had seen nothing of Carrie’s banjo. I was secretly worried, tho I should have known better. It was cpiite dark when Carrie came over. She brought the banjo. We could see it as she came down the road, not around her neck, but over her shoulder like a musket, with its disk aloft. We grabbed our pail and ran to meet her, splashing water as we went. Carrie stood the banjo on the ground, struck an attitude and leaned on it to wait for us. It was made of a section of two-by-four crowned by a jaunty castanet, which, however, looked rather pale and white in the dusk. 1 don’t see any moon, Carrie. ventured Tommy. I expect th’aint goin’ to be none,’’ she said, scanning the heavens judiciously. I expect that almanac lied. They all do. y’know. Well, are you ready ? The hour has come! She shouldered the banjo again, and with her flat-footed tread, started in the lead. We trailed thru the orchard to the fence, and there stopped for a council. Carrie objected to entering by way of the fence, because serenaders never did; but Tommy refused to pass the front gate, because it creaked horribly and gave him the shivers. So the fence it had to be. Pommy and 1 bundled ourselves over first, then came the banjo, entrusted to my care for a delightful instant, and then came Carrie. Carrie never could manage her feet very well, and they kept banging the fence, but she got over safely enough. Sh! she whispered as soon as she got down. We tip-toed around to the front corner of the house. “Sh P’ from C arrie again. “Cfje Purple Habp” We crept round to the front beneath her window. There was a dim suggestion of light behind tlie drawn shade. As we looked up, we felt cool pin-points of rain on our laces. “Rain!” grumbled Carrie in a whisper,—then in a changed tone, “Poor Purple Lady. The heatin’ of the rain an' the howlin’ of the blast must make her awful lonesome up there. Well, what 11 we sing first ' Sh! ‘“Bobby Shafto’s Gone to Sea.” said Tommy in subdued excitement. “Sh! Xo. can’t you see. it ud make her think of her lover maybe that’s off to sea. or that’s out in the wide world? Xo, I think I’ll sing ‘Swing Low. Sweet Chariot.’ And just as soon as she comes to the window, why mn as hard as you can. Then when she goes away, we’ll come back and sing a encore. Sh !” Stillness everywhere, so she gave a preliminary hollow thump on the banjo, and we began. ““I looked up dar. and what did I see—ee, Coinin’ for to carry me home— Swing low.—sw—ing low, Sweet Chariot----” The first strain rose to heaven like incense, but the next was well nigh drowned in a downpour of rain,—when we saw the shade fly up and the Purple Lady in her window. Carrie stopped short, clutched the banjo, and we tied for the gate. Tommy and I stumbled blindly along after Carrie, when suddenly we saw her collide with a tall, dark shape looking up in the darkness, and with a shriek, she crashed down upon the white round of the banjo. “Ho! Ho! laughed the shape in masculine mirth. “What’s this? I’m very sorry to be so clumsy, but you stopped singing so hastily! I beg your pardon,” and he gallantly bent to raise Carrie to her feet. “Xo! Don't wait a single minute. She’s wasted to a shadder waitin’ for you. Go! with a divine gesture of comprehensive sympathy, she pointed toward the lighted room. “Oh, not so bad as that. I hope! There was still a trace of amusement in his gravely perplexed tone. “The last time I saw her. she told me not to bother her for a month! “Aren’t—you—him.—the lover? gasped Carrie from her seat on the ground. “The what?” “The lover. Her lover,” Again the motion toward the window. The Purple Lady was gone, but we heard the front door open and— “George, is that you?’’ she called in glad surprise. ““Yes, I“11 come in a minute.” Then he turned to Carrie. “I’m sorry, but I have the misfortune of being nothing more interesting than a brother. I’m afraid she hasn’t any lover. She hasn't time for one. She works too hard. “Works!” groaned Carrie, staggering to her feet. Why yes. Don’t you call painting pictures work? I say, Emily, have you got a lover?” he called in some alarm. “Cftf Purple Habp” ••Stop your nonsense, George, and come in out of the rain. Are you the little people that sang for me? 1 hank you! I liked it! • Yes so did I “echoed the brother that was not the Lover, and they both went in. _ . , . , “Pictures! The Purple Lady paint pictures! I hen they amt no lover. Xor no secret.__only pictures, an' she works. Oh my! Well, come on, Nina. I guess we’ll go.’ ' Ve trailed out to the gate into the wet road. “Here’s the banjo, Carrie, said lommy. “Tommy ’’ said Carrie, and she swallowed rain in a queer sort of way, “can’t you see that that there banjo and everything is smashed ?” CLARICE HERTIG Commencement Program Oration Willis Jones fStory “The Purple Lady Clarice Ilertig Song “Hark, Hark, the Lark!” ------ Schubert Ranghild Holmquist Essay “The Gyroscope —A Demonstration Lawrence Dann Barnard Reading “The Shet-up Posy - Annie Trumhcll Slosson Sarah T. Rivet Piano Soli (a) Walz in E Minor - ... Chopin (b) Octave Etude -...................................Kullak Florence Margaret Craig Essay “Truly a Wonderful Man Was Cains Julius Caesar Earle Conklin P ailie Essay “The Ideals of Youth Bertha Lillian Sheffield Double Quartette “The Skylark” ------ Barney . Presentation of East Side State Bank Prize Presentation of Journal Prizes Presentation of Diplomas, Superintendent Chas. M. Jordan Tied for First Honor fSecond Honor mor j atters Premature Graduates Edwin Chandler Brown Allan Hockenberger Cirace Power Selden Brown David West Frank S. Preston Busted Aristocrats Leonard E. Rollins Catharine Lvon Roberts Franc Daniels C. Y. O’Gordon Dudley E. Yerxa Kenwood Fussers Donald Hudson, Chief Cook and Bottle Washer Everett Johnson Ned Moore Horton Daniels and Brother Edward Keating and Brother Editor’s Note.—These lesser school organizations have been put in at the earnest request of the members. JUNIORS Cleber CftUbren, are tfjey ot? bey are J ot! In September of the year 1(X)5, a number of brilliant and cheerful children stood before the doors of East High School. They were so brilliant and cheerful that even the passe upper-class men took notice —but only for a moment. They had seen similar groups before, and with a shrug of the shoulders and an indifferent, “Oh, Freshmen, they turned their faces from us. Somewhat crestfallen, we admitted the charge but took courage in the belief that we should be Freshmen for only one short year. At the end of the first term we could conjugate a Latin verb, backwards. if necessary, and could do unheard-of stunts with simple (X—Y)Z . Our drawings would take a blue ribbon at any exhibit, and. what is more noteworthy, we knew the three fundamental principles of Composition— I'nity. Mass, and Coherence. With this list of accomplishments to our credit we felt ourselves qualified for the paler shade of green, and called ourselves “Second Termers. Our feelings, however, were slightly hurt on discovering that we were still kept in the company of Eighth Graders on the third floor. But this hurt was pleasurable in comparison with the keen cut in the fact that the entering, first-term Freshmen were given seats on the second floor. This was pride-cutting discrimination and we felt it. But our ingenuity and cheerfulness helped us to make the best of a bad matter. One little incident occurred during the year to remind us that, after all. we might really be Freshmen. While one of the English classes was in session in Miss Long’s room, a visitor asked to be conducted to Mr. Pendleton’s room. Much to the teacher’s surprise and our chagrin, not one of us knew either the room or the man. During the following recess the Seniors were annoyed by the presence of numerous Freshmen on the first floor, and the next morning we all knew Mr. Pendleton and where he kept himself. Closely connected with the Freshmen and Sophomore years is one event which certainly ought to make the Class of ’09 famous in the annals of history. This achievement was the organization of the Philomatheon Literary Society. This distinguished gathering was well under way by the end of the Freshman year, and by the end of the Sophomore year it was clear out of the way. In the fall of 1906 we went back to school as Sophomores. Our joy was unbounded when we found that we were located on the second floor. We ,fl3asc. member of 2?oarb: “UDbat shall toe put in about llDill Robson ?” Jfem. member, hastily ‘ 8otu bon’t you saylanytbing about him; 3 think he's atoful cute.” Cleber Cfjilbren are tfjep J ot? CfaP arc $ot! could now see that we were surely advancing toward the dreamed-of regions on the first floor. At the end of the first term a large majority of us obtained our just reward and were promoted to the first floor. One humiliating. or. if you please, complimentary incident happened while we were quietly waiting to enter “D“ Room: a teacher, a man well-known on the third floor, came up to a group of our classmen and actually asked them if they were Freshmen. The proper thing would have been silently and with dignity to hold up our cards for inspection: but we were so taken by surprise that all we thot of was, No, we re waiting to get in there.” suiting the action to the word and pointing to “D Room. It is needless to say the teacher retreated with a red-rose flush. When we were finally settled in our dreamed-of and looked-forward-to quarters, a number of us found several pleasing illusions dispelled. Among other things, we learned that the motto of D Room was not, as had been wildly imagined. All play and no work.” Most of us soon realized that the public library is a most useful and necessary institution,—especially when just across the street. Alas! sad but true, none of the teachers seemed able to take our point of view. Thumb-tacks, most useful articles, also suggest, —to the boys at least,—various forms of playfulness and uselessness which need not be enumerated for the education of under-classmen. But why try to relate or even hint at all the side-issues that helped to make up a happy year for us as Sophomores? It is quite as impossible to give an account of our intellectual activities during our last term of probation. Our principal, our teachers and everything associated with Fast High were dearer to us than ever before, when, on the last day of the term, we proudly realized that we had come into the rights and privileges of Juniors. Mighty Juniors! Behold us entering again the halls of East High School to distinguish ourselves as the banner and model class of Nineteen Hundred Nine! After two years of toil we now lay off our cloak of sober and earnest study and enter upon a real throne of supremacy, acting as models for all to idolize and envv. We owe this seat not only to the dignified appearance of the members of our class, but also to some of our distinguished characters who have made themselves famous by' past deeds of learning, known as acts of intellectual ability.” Did not Miss Shillock remark, as one of our members strode thru the front of the r x m. Some Cleallp tfie onlp U)ap to get serbeb quicklp is to forge a teacher’s name on pour orber slip. Results are remarkable. Cleber Cfulbren are tfjep ot? CfaP are J ot! people arc so important. referring to our classmate in particular, they carry the burden of the whole school upon their shoulders. He is only one who has distinguished himself. We have many such persons in our class of honor who are even thought more highly of by the Seniors than by Miss Shillock. 'flic class organization was deemed a great success, altho some few difficulties had to be overcome. The constitution was adopted, but by the thoughtlessness (?) of some, a credit standard for membership was included. This did not suit certain young ladies who had certain friends not fully credited (for they had been unfortunate in pursuing their studies), so these sympathetic ones pleaded for the admittance of their friends, and. after many sharp arguments, the fatal clause that barred them was repealed. But then came the crisis! The new act to be put in its place became the talk of the school; our members took different issues as to their views concerning certain young men being admitted to the class and the affair was only settled when our highly respected Principal. Mr. Webster, stepped in and acted as a true peace-maker. All arguments ceased; friendly glances were once more exchanged, and even tho the certain friends were not accepted as members, matters were different and all united in one force to overcome the dignity of the upper-classmen, the Seniors. One of the “Nefarious Undertakings to subdue the Seniors happened on a dark night when all nature was wrapped in slumber and the Seniors themselves were far away in dreamland. The undertaking was carefully planned. The schoolhouse flagstaff with a Junior banner floating high above the reach of the Seniors was the desired result, indicating victory. Attempts of the Seniors, on the following morning, to tear our banner away were all in vain. They slipped and they slid! Altho is cost our hero members who participated in the victory twenty-five cents each (to have the soap removed), was it not worth it to lower the dignity of the great Seniors? Thus by inflicting moral injury and by humoring the Senior class by our enticing entertainments, given by a “model social committee, we have gained a reputation due only to Juniors. Thus have we deserved and rightly acquired their friendship and acknowledgment of our model and banner class of Nineteen Hundred Nine. MARGARET XACHTRIKI1 GENEVIEVE GRI KEITH .fllanp art caUeb, but fetu get up. 3iust J port$ '1 here is one law which has always been held inviolable by sophomore classes,—Don’t take life too seriously. This is right. As a matter of fact, the trials of the sophomore year are such that they would drive a serious person desperate before the end of the first term. Only the typical light-hearted sophomore with his fine disregard for setbacks and re-. verses can walk with a grin over all his difficulties, and. when all is over, thank fortune that he is thru by as much as the skin of his teeth. lie has a right to be thankful. It is no small task to pass the sophomore year. In the first place, there is English to be disposed of. This English, that is always buzzing about us. is only to be satisfied with a yearly amount of work, worry, annoying essays and outlines. Again, there is that dry old History, Roman and Medieval, with its kings and wars, and pesky little dates. Then there is Geometry stretching out its angular arms to draw ns into a fearful world of confusing lines, angles and figures. Lastly, there is Qesar. Never in all history has there been another tyrant like Oesar. Tho he has been murdered physically once, and mentally many thousands of times, he has not as yet, shown any signs of putting down his big stick. If he ruled with a strong hand in his own time, what toil, what misery, and what curses has he not wrung from succeeding generations! His “Commentaries” are the worst obstacle in the path of the luckless sophomore. However, these are not the only obstacles. French and German have been the finish of too many sophomores to be passed by without notice. The person who takes up French should have, above all else, a well balanced mind and a most serene indifference to difficulties. For if he is not lighthearted he will soon be light-headed. To explain:—almost every French word has a whole string of useless letters hitched to it. Now some of these letters are not to be pronounced at all. while the rest must be just half-pronounced. So. you sec. the longer you talk in French, the greater becomes your sensation of having left something unsaid. Let us drop this exasperating subject. French is. at best, a foolish, jibbering. imbecile language. German is different. Listen to an average German sentence, and notice the effect. You are floored, you are astounded: tho you may not understand a word of it. you are absolutely convinced. A single German sentence is as massive, as formidable, as convincing as the whole English dictionary. I� ut do not jump at conclusions, for the learning of German is llDebster’s llnabribgeb: $opf)omore, pertaining to a opbomore, i. e. inflated in stple anb manner.” 3]ust Sports hard and bitter. To construct a good-sized sentence, to get together all the words, to determine the genders and the endings: to get the verb in the right place, to fill in the chinks with meaningless but necessary adverbs, and, finally, to reel it all off with a parting flourish of gehabt geworden seins.— is the cause and result of much labor. These, then, are some of the obstacles in the path of the Sophomore. Surely it is an imposing list. Ihit the Sophomore doesn’t find them so hard that he gives any very serious thought to them. Instead, he turns his attention to other things, with the result that the Sophomores are the best bunch of sports in the school. You know what they look like. The boys wear suits, preferably dark brown or blue, with ruffle-like seams and three little buttons on the coats; they wear very correct, little, high, stiff collars and knitted ties: they see that their trousers are rolled high enough to show their tan shoes and gorgeous socks: they have their barber torture their hair into the semblance of scrubbing brushes;—finally they put on Derbies or befrilled college hats, and they are quite in style. The girls, of course, are not such slaves to fashion : but they wear cloth-top shoes and huge pompadours, and add foxy little collars or bows to their regular costumes, and look quite as well if not better. So these Sophomores eat fudge, go to the theater, barn-dance, or merely fuss, and come to school every morning too self-satisfied to be dismayed by a dozen Caesars. Don’t think, however, that we have no grinds. There are some very, very studious people in the class of 1910. Ye are always watching to sec them flunk. It is choicest bliss when they do, but it is very, very seldom. They always know the lessons, their cards are always a monotonous string of double-pluses.—in fact, they are the real article. These grinds, however, are the exception. As a class, we have obeyed the law so that no one could accuse us of taking life too seriously. Of course, some will call it rather a low ideal, but as it is the standard of all Sophomore classes, and as we have lived up to it. surely we have made the most of our second year. If we live up to the Junior and Senior standards we shall have made the most of our high school course. This being our intent. it is a pretty fair guess that 1910 will make good. At any rate, wait a couple of vears and see. GLADYS HARR ISO X H rumor is spreab broabcast that there’s a taller felloU) ut school than our 43corg;e. IDe’ll babe to coax that pompabour a hit to make up the beficiencp. “$o otljer to 0uibe l er W e entered East High School last spring, fresh from the country. W'e had attended high school in a small country town for one year: had been one of the big boys, and had done just about as we pleased. W’e knew just two persons at East High when we started: one. a Freshman; the other, a SENIOR. The Senior promptly forgot ns, and we as promptly forgot the Freshman : so we were left to ourselves to fight it out. amid the “society” of the first door, the “giggle” of the second, and the “quiet” of the third. A lone wanderer in the vast halls, we became entangled, mixed up, lost, and were picked up at last by our old friend, the Senior, who was not so “big-headed” after all. After many and ample apologies, we succeeded in gaining back the friendship of our Freshman friend. W’e had heard of the various duckings and other mistreatments which were inflicted upon Freshmen by the other classes in city high schools, and had of course expected class feeling to be rife in Fast High School. W’e have discovered instead that a beautiful friendship exists in our school: that the Freshman looks nj) to the Senior and the Senior looks up to the Freshman. Class feeling does not exist, but the aim of each and every pupil is to make Fast High “the best what is.” RICHARD E. WAKEFIELD Junior! Junior! Lovely star. How I wonder what you arc. Up above the Soph, so high. Like a search-light in the sky. When the brilliant Senior's gone. When he nothing shines upon, Then you show your little light. Making all the school year bright. Then the Freshman in the dark. Thanks you for your tiny spark. 1 low could lie see where to go If you did not twinkle so? LAUREXCF. CADY 3t is a tutst man that bors not sell his “birthright for a mess” of lunch ttckets. “ Cf)£ rrat Deeb” Conceited? Why shouldn't I be? Just let me tell you and see if you wouldn’t be, too. 'Hie family were having a house party at their summer home on Lake Washeeka. Time passed slowly with me, for what is there for a dog to do awav out in the country, at least three miles from any neighbor and six from town? Oil this particular afternoon 1 was sprawling at full length on the porch with an awful stomach-ache, for Mr. Driscol Spencer, a new arrival that morning, had given me four extra buttered biscuits at luncheon, when he found out I was Miss Nina’s special favorite. I’m glad he didn’t know that that wouldn’t exactly please mv mistress; but anyway I liked the fellow’s generosity. So when he and Miss Nina came out of the house both looking so very grave as if something dreadful were the matter. 1 groaned loudly. Hut for some reason, 1 failed to let them see 1 was the only real sufferer in this world. I tried it again, but neither of them so much as glanced my way. Rising, 1 waddled after them, partly to satisfy my curiosity, and partly to wear off my indigestion. Mr. Driscol was talking in a low, earnest tone to Miss Nina as they went down the walk, but my Mistress turned her face away from him and thrust at the shrubbery with her white parasol. They passed thru the gate. 1 had just started to go. too. when it banged in my face! Well, sometimes even a dog knows when “three is a crowd. 1 turned, highly indignant, revenge in my heart, trotted back to the house much faster than 1 had left it. and made my way straight to Miss Nina’s room. There 1 looked all around and snooped in the corners trying to find some mischief I might do to pay them back for their snub. I took each sofa pillow, shook it fiercely, savagely, till I seemed fairly to wade in feathers and ribbons. Then I pounced upon the books on the lower shelf, one by one. the covers were delightfully tough. Soon, not a whole one was left. My anger was almost satisfied. Oh yes. one more—a little, small volume down behind the shelf near the wall. It required considerable scratching and pawing to dig it out. but I got it! Miss Nina’s diary! It was not half as strongly bound as those Russia leather things I’d chewed! 1 tore it and shook it; growled and snapped at it! Over and over l rleit Dap, in a sportibc moob ober some jobr. “b-a. b-a!” ! arnarb near bp: “j ap, tofjat bocs b-a mean ?” nb tfjen be fell. “Cf)t ®reat I eeb” on a shower of leaves 1 rolled, till they were all detached but one, and that stuck to my spiked collar stubbornly. It infuriated me! Down stairs I rushed: out to the gate just in time to slip thru as it was opened by Mr. Davis and Miss Haynes, another solemn looking couple. Stomach-ache forgotten, I dashed down the road toward the grape-arbor. There stood Miss Nina in the doorway, digging the roots of a vine with her parasol, her face flushed and half angry: beside her. Mr. Spencer, white and determined looking. I gave a yelp and Hew round and round them. Miss Xina called out sharply. As 1 turned to run away, Mr. Spencer thrust out his foot, tripped me, deftly twisted the remnant of paper from my collar, commanding me in thundering tones to heel. Then I lay quite still, head between my paws, eyes begging for mercy from the punishment which I felt would surely follow. “You rascal! You’ve been tearing a book, exclaimed Mr. Spencer as he smoothed the paper. He held it up—read it. Slowly the blood mounted to his forehead, then he spoke rapidly, too rapidly for me to catch the words, and then—he had Miss Xina in his arms— very silent, very still. Then— ••Nina!” “Driscoll” They were snubbing me again, so 1 wriggled forward on my stomach and licked Mr. Spencer’s foot. But he didn’t notice me. so I applied my paw and licked harder. He glanced down, looked at me as if I were miles away, then laughed—the happiest laugh! “Why—why, it was all Casey’s doing! lie exclaimed. Xina picked me up. and. hugging me close, carried me home, straight up to her room. There were tears in her eyes: but as she looked around the disordered room, she gave a tremulous little laugh. I wonder why. Even a dog can’t understand a girl sometimes. “It’s the greatest deed you ever did. Casey dear.” she whispered exultantly. squeezing me tighter still. Conceited! Well, why shouldn’t I be? louise McMullen Chontas to ft. ftnotolton: “Tf pou happen to hnoto anp one that's in a efjurcfj ctjoir, pou knoU) toljat nerbous, peebish people thep generallp are.” ftuth retireb in confusion. debate eam Jrranb 4$oobman HMiam Robson OMts Jones ( )t Blpfja 0mega debating ocietp Officers I 'rank Goodman. - - President William Hodson, - Vice-President Lee Piper, ... Secretary Kchvard Anderson. - - Treasurer Lawrence Barnard Earle C. Bailie Warren Bell Douglas Briggs Zephyr Begin Laurence Cady Thorgny Carlson William Chatfield Leonard Faegre G. Hanson John Hustad Semon Hall Sherwood Holmes Arthur Girven Willis Jones Theron Methven Guilford Morse Sidney Pressey Leonard Rollins Philip L. Ray Thomas Ryan Herbert Radkc Gregg Sinclair Arthur Scriver Fred Tryon Gilbert VViggin Richard Wakefield Vincent Wyman Dudley Yerxa faculty .numbers Mr. L. G. Cook Mr. A. E. Karge Mr. C. S. Pendleton Mr. W. T. Couper Mr. J. R. Towne Mr. j. W. Wilkins llDanteb. H stubent in bebate. .must be tall anb barb anb bice-presibent of her class. £igneb: VO. 3oneS ounb j ubfaenlp: Chat bebate is reallp berp interesting, especially tofiile InalU-mg up Jrourtlj Street. jSigneb : Clutb linotnlton l istorp of tf)E debating J ocietp On March 9th. 1904, a long-felt want in East High School was fulfilled when a preliminary meeting was held by a few of the faculty and a number of the students in the Junior and Senior classes, for the organization of a debating society. The purpose was to improve its members in debating and in other literary lines. Alpha Omega Debating Society, the name applied to the organization, is now one of the most important clubs in East High. Harold C. Deering, '04. was chosen as its first president, and under his leadership the organization was placed upon a substantial footing. Kay Chamberlain, '05, acting in the capacity of president for the year 1905. continued the policy of Mr. Deering, and the interest manifested during his period of supervision assured the society's success. The presidents for the two years following were Earl L. Grinols, '06, and Haddon A. Ostlund, '07, both of whom did much toward making the work of the society both interesting and instructive. The football season of 1907 did not close until late in October, so the work of the society was retarded somewhat on this account, and did not commence until early in November. At the first meeting held in December, the officers for the ensuing year were chosen as follows: Frank I . Goodman. president: William Hod son, vice-president; Lee Piper, secretary, and Edward Anderson, treasurer. During the past six months the society has made great progress, and its membership has reached the constitutional limit of thirty-five. The meetings held on the first and third Fridays of each month have been well attended and the debates have created much interest and been very instructive, inasmuch as the questions for discussion have been as a rule, on practical problems of the day. Among them might be mentioned the question of whether or not the trend of labor unions in the United States during the past twenty years has been detrimental to the country, the advisability of restricting the power of theSpeaker of the House of Representatives, the abolishment of a high protective tariff, and the Southern Negro educational problem. No subject taught in East High today can give the ambitious student as much practical benefit as the training received by a member of our debating society. He is taught to think quickly, to express himself intelligently and without embarrassment. Furthermore, he receives gratuitously the suggestions in debate given by the faculty members who have learned the art of debating by actual experience. The organization, however, does not believe in all work and no recreation. A precedent was established in the spring of 1907. when a banquet was held at the East Side Commercial Club rooms, all active members of the society being present, as well as a number of old-timers who are now in at- IDfjo toil! be our next JDresibent ? 3f pou gap Caft, Oregg saps 23rpan, anb bice bersa. Cfjua one of tbe essential in tfje mental make up of a bebater is tfie spirit of argument. ii istorp of tf)t debating ocietp tendance at the University. The meeting was so successful that another reunion took place in May. Speeches and toasts, both serious and humorous, were responded to by several, and it was declared by all to he the most enjoyable evening spent in many months. Inasmuch as both banquets have proven so successful from a social standpoint, the holding of an annual reunion will undoubtedly be practiced in years to come. The society is now nearing the close of its fifth successful year as one of the most practical, instructive, and beneficial organizations in the school. Let us hope that its present usefulness may continue, and that the excellent training received in Alpha Omega Debating Society by its members may he a stepping stone toward a high goal. FRANK P. GOODMAN 3ntersdjolaStic debate Rach year since their establishment, has Fast High School been represented in the interscholastic debates. Twice the team representing Fast, has won the District Championship. This year the team was composed of Frank Goodman. Willis Jones and William Hodson. with Gregg Sinclair, substitute. They won from Central High and lost to North High, in each instance upholding the affirmative of the question, Resolved, that the United States should subsidize the Southern States for the purpose of educating the Southern Negro, constitutionality granted.” Though they failed to win the district championship, the members of the team worked hard, were well prepared and made a most creditable appearance. Many are of the opinion that this year’s team is the best debate team which has ever represented Fast High School in contests. In recognition of their work the debating society has awarded the members of ti e team debate fobs. One of the judges of the North-Fast debate, writing in the Minneapolis Journal says: To me the addresses of all the contestants were a great surprise. Each and all fully understood the subject, and set it forth in a most masterly manner. The debate was worthy of mature, experienced speakers.” More of the students should seek the drill and experience to be gained in debate. The boys learn to reason logically and to express their thoughts clearly. Above all they learn to think and speak clearly and concisely, while on their feet before an audience. It is to be hoped that many will try for the team next year, and that two teams will be chosen, so that valuable experience may be derived from practice debates. W. T. COUPFR M out for tfje pernor billiarb Squab. t present i?uep, HDpman, anb flap look to be tfje best abailable timber, but stiU efjance for others. CtE Hattn J ocietp This fall Miss Roe unfolded to her pupils a plan which has materialized most successfully. The would-be Romans enthusiastically banded themselves together, ready to don the toga of honor, orate in the senate, light C.esar's battles, or be butchered to make a Roman holiday. And lo! they have done it. The first thing to be done was to elect officers and a program committee. The committee promptly got t‘ work and evolved the fir t program, which was given in the Physics Recitation Room. YVe learned all about a typical Roman house, with ome excellent stereopticon views of Roman dwellings. The intricacies of the dress of both men and women were explained, as well as their daily life. Then the Glee Club of the Society regaled us with “Lauriger Horatius, which was sung with great heartiness and harmony, and in the best Latin. Thus was the Latin Society launched in its career. The second program was a thing of glory. ‘'Andromache’s Story of the Fall of Troy” and “The Seven Years' Journey’’ were the subjects of two enjoyable papers; Jaekus et Jilia caused a gale of merriment; but the crowning feature was a real Latin play, “Philemon and Baucis. It had four characters,—live, if we count the live goose, who figured very notably therein. Philemon and Baucis were covered with burlap and honor, while Jupiter and Mercury were truly god-like in their yellow-bordered tunics and pasteboard sandals. 'rite next time we held forth in the Auditorium. “A Roman Triumph and “Court Life under the Emperors were the essays, followed by “A Scene iti Vesta 's Temple. As the curtain r«� se. seven beautiful Vestals were seen tripping on their robes and getting into place about the white altar where burned the sacred lire. The Mother Vestal instructed a little novice as to her duties, and while she knelt, the seven walked slowly around the altar, and sang a beautiful Latin hymn, then disappeared into the recesses of the temple, singing as they went. Next came a C;esar program. Csesar himself and his campaigns were discussed, and one of the hoys drew a beautiful map of the Siege of Alcsia and described it. Then a squad of Ctesar pupils gave us an exciting contest on the principal parts of verbs. Our next program dealt with Slavery in Rome and a review of Quo Vadis. Then there was witnessed the happy wedding of one of our best known Seniors with a charming Junior. It was a very high-class marriage, we assure you. The bride wore a white mousseline de cheesecloth and a scarlet veil with roses. The bridegroom was resplendent in white cotton and a chaplet of pink roses over his noble brow. There were the bride’s father and mother, the pronitba, or bride’s attendant, and a procession of merry friends. As the procession started, combs covered with crepe paper, oboes, a surreptitious mouth-organ and clashing cymbals produced ancient, joyful wedding music. They arrived at the bridegroom’s door, and when, to prevent the evil omen of stumbling, the bridegroom picked up the bride and carried her over the threshold, the hurst of applause testified to the vividness of the ceremony. Mr. Webster treated us to a talk on Ancient Rome, accompanied by beautiful stereopticon views. Besides he had some magnificent views of the interior of the Vatican, which he explained. I hese have been our programs this year; but the Juniors will carry on the work next year, and the Latin Society will continue to be, we hope, of promising future and glorious memory. CLARICE IIERTIG “Editors Note: See Sinclair's Editorial in Fireside Companion. £ast Ijigl) Orrfjt tra 6asit O rcfjejBftra Joseph M. Griffith, Director. First Violins Genevieve Griffith Ethel Marron Eva Adair Lucile Rich Anna Nelson Second Violins Donald Brown Helen Knowlton Loraine Pearson Karl Vander Horck Flutes Edward Anderson Guilford Morse Horton Daniels Clarinet Roswelle W ilkes ’Cello Mr. Webster Bass Laurence Cady First Cornets Stanley Griswold Raymond Shannon Second Cornet Richard Leavenworth Trombone Michael Jalma Drums Donald Hudson Philip L. Ray Piano Florence Craig irlv£ Olce Club Cfje Ctrl’s: 23lee Club Xela Bentley Bergliot Xafstad Alice Rodearnial Susie Strutt lone El e Lavina Ferry Susan Magraw Harriet Magraw Floy K. Hamilton Jessie Phillips Florence Sullivan Mattie Huston Florence Kunz I'lien M. Chase Anna Irving Olive Fletcher Marguerite Robertson Bessie Kealy Genevieve Ronald Irene Young Ruth Knowlton Pearl Xeshitt I dell Grant Laura Miller Lillian McLaughlin Emma Kreher Myrtle Johnson. Josephine Crary There were a very few who sang in Auditorium last year under the name of the Girls Glee Club. But they were a progressive few. and altho only live could appear at the first rehearsal this fall, they were a strong nucleus for the club of twenty-five members which first sang in October. It began its work with the simplest of choruses and the study of songs from such writers as Rubinstein. W eber and Rossini, has gained much in harmony and expression for the Club. The members are largely anticipating heavier and longer selections. Early in the winter, a constitution submitted by a committee was adopted by the club, and the first election of officers resulted as follows: President - - - - Susan Magraw Vice-President ... ... Genevieve Ronald Secretary and Treasurer....................................Jessie Phillips Advisory Board - Miss Rossman. lone Ebe, Ruth Knowlton jFeminine member of the 2 oarb: “«$lam the 03irl s 43lee Club!” jTHasculine member: “Ob, no! tfjcp are so terriblp cop !” irj Cast J� ct)ool Concert Given by the Musicial Organizations on May 15, 1908 PROGRAM. 1. Overture: “Jolly Robbers’ Past High Orchestra Kiler Bela 2. (a) i cl Like to (io Down South Once Mo’ ” (b) “Negro Medley ’ Roys’ Glee Club - Shattuck Parks 3. Piano Soli — (a) “To the Spring” (b) “Norwegian W edding Processional” Miss Florence Craig - Grieg Grieg 4. (a) Sweet Is the Sound of Charity’s Voice’’ Solo by Miss Holmcjuist Rossini (b) 'Tis Morn” - -- -- -- - Girls’ Glee Club - Geibel 5. Reading: Jacky at the Kindergarten” - Miss Nina Blackburn Marion Hill 6. (a) “A Tragic Story” (b) “Young Ben and Cruel Sally” - Boys’ Glee Club - Metcalf Steele 7. Violin Solo: Zigeunerweisen Miss Anna Louise W oodcock Sarasate 8. “The Approach of Spring” Girls’ (ilee Club Gadc 9. Vocal Solo: “Spring Tide” Miss Ranghild Holnic|uist Becker 10. “Turkish Patrol” -------- Orchestra Eilenburg 1908 Charles Doty - - Baseball Vincent Wyman - Football George Huey - - Football Ben Sam nelson - Baseball Lawrence Barnard - - . - Football and Track Maurice Fitzgerald - - - Baseball 'Cast l igh .foot 23all Cram Qt )t ILtncup Left End -Left Tackle -Left Guard - ' - Center -Right Guard -Right Tackle -Right End -Quarter-Back -Left Half-Back -Right Half-Ba. k -Full-Back...................... Barnard, ‘08 Foley, 'll, Lundblad, 07 y2 Gluck, 09 - Prosser, '07l 2y Huey, '08 Hustad, '08 - Bright, ’09, Broderick, 08 Brown, 10 - Thompson, 10 Verring, 07 - Tollefson, 09. Broderick, 08 Wyman, 08 cfjebule Alumni 5 South High 22 Shattuck - - - - 20 Central High 25 Cleveland High 0 North High ... Me u Arts High - East...........................0 East...........................6 East...........................4 East...........................0 East..........................66 East...........................0 East...........................5 0 Cast l|igf) Crack t en I ldward Anderson Morton Houston 1 .awrence Barnard Donald Hudson Louis Broderick W illiam Hudson Clarence Bush Xeil Kingsley Ellsworth Bush Castelow Kendall Henry Cock burn Earnest Lundhlad W illiam Clark Earnest Lonquist Charles Doty Dean Martin Edwin Dillman Chaunccv Olcott William Elliot Leonard Rollins Maurice Fitzgerald Leroy Revnoldson Kendall Graham Herbert Radke Geo. Huey Vincent Wyman Don Hawley Florence Craig, toiling to alter l)tr orber for Commencement Salutations, calleb exciteblp, “Please pass ober tljat paper; 3 toant to efjange mp name!” PiSS floe to .fParp Palmer in Dirgil: “ Parp, take ijabes anb run tfjru it quicblp! Cast i?igl) 2 a$f Cram 2tee 2?all ftebteto The 1907 baseball season opened the first week in March, due to the early spring. As soon as the team was picked, practice games were played with the different University organization teams. Hast managing to win in most of the contests. On Friday, April 27. Fast met Central in the first championship game. The game was slow and uninteresting as the Central pitchers were all out of form. The Fast players ran bases until they had made twenty-three runs and then made no further effort to score. The final see re was 22 to 5. April 3, one week later. North was taken on in one of the best games ever played by local high schools. Ochu and Johnson, the opposing pitchers, were both in great form, the Cardinal pitcher not allowing a hit until the sixth inning, when he weakened. East had scored once early in the game, and in the sixth a combination of hits and errors won the game for North, score, 6-1. The following Friday East went over to St. Paul and defeated Mechanic Arts, 24-6. The game was a repetition of the Central game, the St. Paul pitcher not being able to stop the heavy hitting of the East Sidcrs. Next day the St. Paul Centrals won out in the final inning, after East had apparently won a very snappy game: the score was 7-8. May 25. the team went to Shattuck, but as it rained all day the game was called off. On the 31st. the season closed with a victory over South. The Cardinals did not arrive on the field until after four o’clock, and had to commence play without any practice. South started off with a rush and before the East Siders realized it, had gained such a lead that it required ten innings for East to catch up and finally win out. 10-9. The championship of the city was never decided as there was a general tie-up between the local schools. This year a permanent organization, the Minneapolis High School Baseball League, has been formed. The plan is to have each team meet every other team twice, and the team winning the most games is to be champion. EUGENE DE C. MITCIIELL Martin ()ehu Samuelson Oram Wines - Broderick Doty - Clark - Longquist Kingsley Fitzgerald Cfif Ceam Catcher - Jpitchers Short Stop First Ease Second Base Third Base Left Fielder Right Fielder Center Fielder Hltfjlettc 2 oari) of Control President .... Lawrence Barnard Vice-President William Hodson Secretary - Phil. L. Ray Treasurer - W. T. Couper Faculty Member - - - J. W. Wilkins Alumni Member - M. T. Caine Track Manager - L. E. Rollins Track Captain Lawrence Barnard Football Manager - - Vincent Wyman Football Captain - George Huey llaseball Manager Eugene Mitchell liaseball Captain Charles Doty Tennis Manager - Arthur Scriver Basketball Manager - Arthur Werring Basketball Captain - - Harlow Green Delegates to Northwestern Convention Leonard E. Rollins ( Lawrence 1). I laniard J ootbaU There have rarely before been as many candidates out to try for a team as last September. They were mostly small, there were no bigger ones in the school: and when a few big fellows can’t be had. a lot of small ones are next best. Hut the great handicap over their starting right in with a rush, and playing hard football from the start, and being successful against the other teams, was the lack of a coach. There was the captain, to be sure, and some old men and alumni; but half the fellows had never had a football in their hands before. It takes an all-around man ♦ coach a new team, and such a man the team did not have until three weeks '•Iter the start. So in those three weeks there was but little discipline: the fellows didn’t think punctuality at practice or hustle and hurry and hard work all the time they were on the field, were very necessary. So when '!att Caine took the team the last week in September, he took a posit n that called for unusual ability. Caine is an alumnus of the school, an old-time athlete himself: and besides being in newspaper work since he left school, he has been able to see and study the play of big teams. He understands football—that football is a game of hurry, hurry, hurry: and from the moment he took charge of the team he pounded hurry into them. Caine has been doing more for the school since he left, than any other alumnus: and this last certainly deserves appreciation by all the school. Hast was defeated by the Alumni on Saturday. September 28th. by a score of 5 to C. I’lie game was played at Uroadwav and Central Avenues Northeast, an open field; and on that day covered and crowded with lookers on in such numbers that the teams had a problem to solve in dodging bystanders instead of playing good football. It was but a day or two after Caine bad started coaching: and furthermore, the team bad been almost to demoralization on its small practice field, and had ha w.i time in going to and from a new open field out in the country, of the game naturally said it was a poor exhibition of football. On Friday evening. September 20th. the school gave a demonstration of enthusiasm, that has never before been seen at East. It was on a beautiful starlit night, the full moon rising about 8 o’clock, on a day that the team bad had a very promising practice: three or four hundred girls and fellows celebrated for an hour or more around a big bonfire, on the old Coliseum grounds. There were speeches by the coach. Colonel Lee. alumni and some of the players, and cheering that equaled that of a game. It was spirit and loyalty that enthused everyone there, and everyone that heard about it—spirit that went right home to the players. It showed on the day they played South High. October 12th. The game was at the North High field, a long way from our school: the day was cold and windy, but there isn't anything that can cool the fever of Ht some near bate our Hubitorium toil! be the scene of a great athletic ebent toben IDillarbsbi Jllorseabolo anb 43eorgan IJuepsUbttcb tuill torestle for the fusseCs champion ship of I). JfootbaU excitement of East’s supporters on a football day. There were three hundred or more there. They hopelessly outnumbered South’s rooters, and their overwhelming cheers would have carried off most any day. The game itself was all East’s,—the first half. The team made one touchdown and were in South’s territory all the time; but the second half was different. 11 ere again the newness of our men at football was a handicap. 'They grew over-confident—South's experienced men didn’t; and the result was that South made four touchdowns in that second 30 minutes. 'The score was 22 to 6; and on that day, altho the team lost, they played a rattling good game most of the time and the rooters yelled a rattling good game all the time, and the average in loyalty and spirit was certainly lots bigger than South's. On October 20th the team played Shattuck at Faribault. Shattuck won easily with their weight, by 20 to 4. It was a clean and plucky fight on East’s part, and no discredit is due them. 'The fourth game of the season was with Central, at Nicollet Park, on ()ctober 26th. East played fast football all the time, and gained ground on the offense as they pleased, but when they lost the ball, then the weight and speed of the other team were almost irresistible. The game went against us again by a score of 26 to 0; but again the school supported the team by the hundreds, and carried off the day at rooting. The fifth game was with Cleveland, on November 1st, at Macalcster field, in St. Paul, and East for the first time of the season was victor in every way. The team they played was for the first time of the same weight as themselves, and East demonstrated the speed they could acquire when V; ] ’ 11 with such men. The score was 66 to 0. 1 h n st game was with North, who had thus far simply walloped all tat had beaten us, ami naturally the men felt the game of their ■ ear at hand. November 8th saw our fearful drubbing at the North High field. East was plucky and stuck out the game, but against those giants of North, the men were like infants, and pluck there counts for very little. North had a wonderful team in comparison with ours. Score, 54 to 0. November 15th saw our last game; against Mechanic Arts High School, of St. Paul. East won by 5 to 0; and but for the miserable game of fumbling, the score would have been 25. 'The season was ended by a dance for the team on that last night; and later each man was rewarded by the school with a beautiful miniature football of gold on a black silk ribbon, as a watch fob. On the front was an “F.” in raised cardinal enamel and on the back the name of the player and his position. Thru the wonderful support of the school, the schedule and ItDfien tfie guppe bias so prebalent this tointer, iiatfjleen .Jteurpfiy bias fiearb to exclaim anxiously, “J13y. 3 bon’t kitoto toljat 3’b bo in Hlgebra if ftalpb sfjoulb get tfie grippe!” £ f course, fie boesn’t sit near her or anything like tljat. Jfootball perfect management of W yman, the finances of our football team were way ahead of any other; and when such success occurs, even in the year of an unsuccessful team, it certainly shows the fine spirit of the school toward its football team. Tracfe ()f all athletic games and pastimes that have found places among the interests and enthusiasms of our High School; of all that are allowed to keep their places because they are builders of strong young men; track work attains results which are far ahead of those of any other sport; results which are inestimable to the growing boy. It comes in the Spring of the year, when everything is stirred with new life and there is a corresponding stir in a boy's energies, a stir that demands action. He feels like getting out in the open, and running and climbing and jumping. It is this demand that track work satisfies—and more than satisfies, because in the competition of a field day. muscles and energy tire. Then he develops the cjuality that will make him a man; a man who is able to do anything an l everything. That quality is nerve, grit, stick. Admirers of athletic ability delight in a display of muscle and skill, and anyone loves to see a pole vaulter or a jumper clear the bar in beautiful style: or a runner come up the stretch with a long, powerful stride. This last affects one not with sympathy for overexertion, but rather with the inspiration of the rhythm and neat of music. There are born athletes of course, and perhaps they are the most successful, but the athletes that make themselves are the greater. These greater athletes, these who make themselves, are the kind that have been developing themselves at East High the last few years, and last year especially were the results of their development most remarkably shown. More than two months before those results appeared, they had to begin their training. From doing this at the University, with their track and apparatus, as teams before them had done, they were barred. This was a very serious handicap. With such a perfect track as that at the University to run on, and with their apparatus for maintaining a healthy and perfect condition of body, they could offer no excuse for not having a good team, but without those things they could have offered a very fair excuse for having a poor team. Hut they were not a bunch that would try to uphold the reputation of the school with such poor props as excuses. They were out to make themselves able to do things, and then to do them. 3f pou toislj to enjop pourself en route to tfje Pillsburp Hibrarp, go bia tfje UeabenUjortb l?ilton, strolling fuss roab. Crack A bunch of thirty started in with cross-country running. 'They chased around over the hills, and up and down the river valley for almost two weeks, but the weather got colder and it became impossible to run with any ease. The runners dwindled and in the third week, no one was out. W hen the air did warm up. it was too late in the season to plan and train for a cross-country run, so it had to be dropped, but a start had been made, some interest aroused, and that was a great deal. The first meet was the Class meet held at Northrop Field on May 22d, The Seniors won with 71 points: Freshmen second with 26: Juniors third with 13: and Sophomores fourth with 10. The first and second in each of the events were the ones who represented East on June 1st in the Inter-scholastic Track Meet, and for what they did in that half month too great credit cannot he given them, for they had no trainer. In that meet, the great event of the year. East was not very successful in winning points: but in developing better athletes out of men who had not made good before, in developing those qualities which 1 have said come thru running and jumping. East was never before so successful. ()ur school made 32 points in the meet, four first and four second places. 'The eight men who made them were: Martin, ’07. first in 120-vard and 220-vard hurdle races: Elliott. ’07. second in 440-yard dash, relay race: Girvcn. 09, second in pole vault: Barnard, 08. second in mile run, relay race: Lonquist, ‘07. second in 880-yard dash: Shore, ‘07. relay race: Hawley. ‘07. first in 880-yard dash, relay race. The relay race was the event that showed the ability of the team more than any other. Men can win in events which they know just how to do: in events where they are fresh and anxious, but it takes a stronger man to go into a relay race after he has tired himself to the limit in other events. It means a quarter mile for each man, and a run just as hard as he can go it: and to win it means the four men must all be first place quarter-milers. And when a track team can get four such as East had in that meet, it means a bunch of all-around athletes. In the race, against men from seven other schools, every man won his lap, every man increased the lead. Barnard ran the first. Shore the second, Hawley the third, and Elliott finished,—all done in the wonderful time of three minutes and 40 seconds, or 55 seconds to the man. It was the climax of the meet, a climax that meant not only the establishing of the school’s reputation, but meant for themselves, the height of physical and mental development. The reputation of the school was their great aim: and the great result the benefit to themselves: the lesser aim but the greater result. Thus track accomplishes the purpose of athletics in the High School. LAWRENCE D. BARNARD Jones Ijab broken ttoo test tubes in Haboratorp one morning, anb tfje mess from tfje tfjirb smaslj up toas still on tfje floor, token jTEir. Cook came up. “£ap. Jones,” saib be, “tofio’S been bere, pou or tfje cat?” Cl)t ®ualttj of tlje l rofauct As a rule an article on the Alumni is treated with about as much enthusiasm as is usually displayed at a Quaker meeting. I have attempted to disguise this dose and deceive the unwary by an illusive title. Ye as Alumni, occupy a rather unusual place among those permitted to use that high-sounding name. W e are neither dried from long exposure nor self-satisfied from many years of successful experience: for more than half of us have arrived in the last six years, and the very oldest can hardly be called middle-aged. We are widely scattered in interests and location; the bond of common acquaintance is practically limited bv our immediate classes; there is little to hold ns together, and we almost forget that the school is still interested in us and that we are setting the pace for those to come. We are. then, young and sturdy .stock, in the prime of life, interested in our work and well started toward the summer when the fruit must mature. A preparatory school is a kind of experimental station, which attempts to develop straight and hardy plants of a little better variety than those grown, without similar care. W'liat is the quality of the Product? I low is the stock standing the test, and what is the yield going to he? This is a hard question to answer, hut it is a vital one, and the answer must he worked out carefully: for the true answer determines the true value of the school. I therefore advance the following facts as showing the tendency of the growth. I first determined the per cent of pupils from each class who continued their education. The lowest was fifty-four; this was the class of 1903. The highest was eighty per cent, of the class of 1893; and fifty-two per cent of these graduated. In a few cases, where I could make direct comparisons, I found that a higher per cent of Fast High students graduated than of other freshmen entering the same year. The average per cent of all classes leaving Fast High and entering college or a similar institution was sixty-three. This is a conservative figure, determined by comparisons of the school records with the records at the University, and by as accurate information as could be secured concerning those graduates who went to other colleges. It will be clear to all that some undoubtedly escaped the count: and 1 am convinced that two-thirds would have been the result, if a more complete count could have been made. However, sixty-three per cent is remarkably high. Not only have a very large number entered the I’niversity of Minnesota. but the influence of Fast High has been a leading one. The graduates have been prominent in debate and oratory and have always taken part in the work of the Literary Societies. They have represented us on the Gopher, the Minnesota Magazine, and the Daily. They are in politics and in society. I hey are an active and vital force in University life. lo he sure, this is the history of only little more than one-half of the total number of our graduates, but I believe it is typical of all: for these in the I niversity are in active competition with others similarly equipped: and it they win here, surely it not only promises well for their future but also indicates the spirit of all of us. r tje ualttp of tfje Product It seemed impossible to acquire such definite information with regard to those who did not attend College. Most of them seem to be advancing like the Children of Israel around Jericho. Making no noise neither letting any word proceed out of their mouth. It is the man who is willing to repeat the same round of duties and maintain his interest by doing them a little better each day who is going to arrive at last, and as 1 look around among the large number whom I know of the Alumni, it seems to me that many are doing just that. All are busy, treading the circular path of duty, and very few are content to step each round in their former footprints: they are ever enlarging the circle, until in many cases it is growing beyond their dreams. 'Phis, then, is a part of the record as 1 find it. and to me it seems very good. There is about us an atmosphere of comradeship which is characteristic of our school. It compels a more than kindly interest, rather a grateful memory of pleasant associations: and I always find this even among the most ancient of the Clan. I trust it is a legacy to be handed down to future generations. As East High Alumni, then, we are just finding ourselves. We are in the forefront of the battle, well equipped and giving a good account of ourselves. Our motto, Amplius, is before us: but better yet, it seems to be written in our deeds, Greater! Nobler! Letter things,—on the cardinal ground of vigorous endeavor. LOUIS G. COOK Vol. CCXLV JUNE 1. 1908 FIRESIDE COMPANION Published lor the 400 ORGAN OF THE HOME ALL SCANDELOUS ITEMS carefully restricted EXPOSURE SEPAR- ATION THREATENED G. H. Tallman seen at Orpheum Friday, March 27 with a French Pantomime Artist. Mrs. Tallman on anxious seat to date. NEW WITNESS Miss Would called upon frequently in the Gilkin's case. raid On East High Lunch Counter. BUT IN VAIN Big Picnic New Stock Company And Vaudeville Combined Katrina Robertson, assisted by Disgrace Herrishand others. East High Auditorium, Amateur Night. Get your seats early and avoid rush. NewClub Organized DETRAYAL of TRUST Treasurer of many institutions, and highly respected church member absconds with large sum. D n Lawnard overdraws his account to sum of $11.77 and is threatened with 30 days in the shade. Authorities hot on track. All trains to Fergus Falls carefully watched. For Seniors via Great White Way to BIG Island Park. NO SPIKE TAILS or white collars. MILK and Moving Pictures in Pavilion!! MURPHYS Academy Of Bluffology Modern Method . Reuonable Rate and Mark Guaranteed Rooter's Brigade formed to cheer on needy Recitation Room Teachers in their search for SOFT SALARIES Generosity Wyman refuses to be put off any longer. Insists that Senior Class be paid that $2.00 at once. FIRESIDE COMPANION MURDER! MOB SPIRIT RULES Cardinal Editors forced to beat hasty retreat, with Kenwood lussers hot on trail. Angry mob on watch at Arcade. SEE MINOR MATTERS SPLIFFY! Guey Cream Puffs for all. HOT TOMOLIES and ( Crabs ‘'Eggs D'v Acc iHiod.tion. Sizzly Wasp Restaurant Right Around Corner SPLIFFIER? Patronize Home Industry. Kandy Kid Lunch Counter. Local Agency for Mennon’s Food Diluted Milk at all hours. Flies Scrambled in Every Egg. Cold Meat Guaranteed TOOTH-PROOF CEST SNIFFORD Proprietors B. SWELL HEADSON’S INSTITUTE For Broken Down Debaters WHAT SIZE HAT DO YOU WEAR? I can make you wear a NINE. MY great mind has solved the problem. 1 hey say the weight of the world rests on ME, hut still I find time to assist in the uplift of the vulgar mob. No other treatment like MINE. Sinclair’s Editorial Dear Readers: My spring offer for wedding parties draws large crowds. My guarantee that I will wear my toga and wreath stuns the multitude, and the only wonder is that other bride-grooms can get any business at all. Satisfaction and low prices guaranteed. Come and see me about your spring wedding tomorrow. Get in line! Get inline! Yours truly, GREGG SINCLAIR. P. S. Out of town girls send pictures and description for consideration. G. S. 0 GORDON Institute in Dramatic Boxing Pavilion at End of Bryn Mawr Line KohUtedt Printinf Company Minneapolis. Minn. jA.nla m