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Page 17 text:
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EAST HIGH SCHOOL ORCHESTRA
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Page 16 text:
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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
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Page 18 text:
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“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
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