East High School - Cardinal Yearbook (Minneapolis, MN)

Page 15 text:

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

Page 14 text:

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.

Page 16 text:

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