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Page 29 text:
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Q 1928 JUNIOR HIGH BROADCASTER 21' THE TWENTY-EIGHTS The Senior Class of the Junior High School Has tried to do its best, In various parts of this organization, By wisely planning and consultation. The class president, Helen Rarie, In conducting class affairs, Has proved a leader good and true, As we hope she'll always do. Our Vice President Joe Knepp, Has neither dreamed nor slept, She's had a share right in the work, And never tried to shirk. Smoker Sue, the secretary, A person bright and cheery, A good scout wherever she's placed, By all considered a dearie. This class has a treasurer, By the name of Mitzi Zong, A person her standing has proved, She's surely helped the class along. Athletics is not lacking in this class, The basketball teams, girls and boys, Have won many victories Which gives us many joys. Liggetts, the boys manager, A tip-top record he made in his work, Wagner, the girls manager, Has always been alert. The Glee and Dramatics Clubs Progress throughout the year have made, We hope the progress still continues, And their triumphs never fade. We are as proud of our class . As any one could be, For we've strived for high ideals, And we know the faculty will agree. We mourn for those Who have left our class, lAnd wish we could win them back, So they never again would jump the track. As we go from Junior High, And go from place to place, May the memory of our noble deeds Never, never fade. A RIVER'S COURSE I come from the forest where the wild deer roam, Going by the mountaineer's woodland home Coming to a valley, from a mountain top, I steal through meadows, but never stop. I pass by pastures as I go to the mill, To grind the grain, the sacks to fill, ' I supply the factories both far and near, And all the thirsty iiocks do cheer. Where the sweet scented clovers grow, And the herds of cattle low, Where the trees all murmur a song, I glide peacefully and softly along. Then after other beautiful scenes, Into a bay from the pleasant greens, I glide, into the ocean large and wide, Splashing and dashing with the tide. Then my body of raindrops spread, To be taken by the sun from their ocean bed, This is the end of a river's course, To the ocean, from its mountain source.
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Page 28 text:
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, 26 JUNIOR HIGH BROADCASTER 1928 GREEN AND WHITE We stand for the dear old green and white, The green and white so true, Green and white of '28, We sound its praise to you. The greatest painter in the universe, Stands for these colors too, He uses them as the years glide by In ways - quite a few. In summer He covers the great, great earth, With a beautiful coat of green, And oftentimes in winter he sends, The whitest coat ever was seen. God's colors! The beautiful green and white, God loves them, and so do weg Under God's colors we plunged in the fray, And laurels already we see. We are bidding adieu to our Junior High To its work and pleasure dear, But we enter a field of greater work, Which we'll do with might next year. We'll continue to sail neath the green and the white, Workers, not shirkers we'll beg God gave us the beautiful green and white He'll give us the victory. TU LIPS Tupils, tulips, pretty tulips, Yellows, violets and reds, Smiling in the sunshine, As they nod their heads. Tulips, tulips, cheerful tulips, You will cheer the sick, Growing in your red, red pots, So tall and large and slick. Tulips, tulips, rosy tulips, Dancing in the breezeg To the tunes of all the birds, Under theshade of lilac trees. , SPRING TIME Spirng, the lovliest time of all the year, Has sent winter on, without a fear. A sign of her approach, She comes forth to boast, All nature appears in her new attire. The streams that were wild and cold, Are joined with the seas, as of old. The fishes are playing Under the log that is laying, By the side of the tree, in the old swimming hole. I The birds sing with all their might: The flowers make a most beautiful sight, To their colors are true, Roses and violets blue, As the green grass grows all around. The farmer is busy at his sowing, While the gentle winds are blowing. He sings while at work, For the weather is much to his longing. His duty he does not shirk, Oh, the buzzard sails on, It comes and is gone. The meadow lark sings As the woodman's ax rings, As he toils through the bright afternoon. THE LEAVES OF OUR BOOKS Yes, exams are here g And our thinking caps we must wear, The leaves of our books are kept turning, And we are very busy learning. But soon our exams will be o'er, Then the poor leaves will be left in silence once more. Just as the leaves of the trees were when the Pilgrim's landed. The books filled with paper are placed in our desks, And that's just where they will stay, Until another examination day.
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