Lyman Hall High school - Singer Chronicle Yearbook (Wallingford, CT)

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uflie djlrrmticle June, 1924 Senior dJas OUR CHARGE TO YOU! “History repeats itself” and again The Chronicle has completed her voyage. It has been our pleasant task to see to the management of the ship through the past year. During that time, we have come to cherish it very much, and we hope it will always be guided by loving hands. But we have not worked alone; your assistance alone made it possible for The Chronicle to sail victoriously, and we wish to thank you, one and all! On the mast of this ship a flag is flying, bearing the letters L. H. H. S. They stand for Lyman Hall High School, but may they not stand also for the ideal attitude toward our school? L—Love, love toward our school, love which will include a just pride in its standing and general life, and loyalty to its activities. H—Honor, our individual honor and the honor of our school; honor in common questions ol right and wrong; honor in the way its affairs are managed; honor which the sportsman has—“Play the game fair.” H—Hope, hope to drive away despair, hope to triumph over defeats, sunny optimism, and faithful courage. S—Service, service to our school, the expression of school spirit in action, Willingness to give our support, time and labor to school affairs, and the proving of our love toward the school by our deeds for it. To all of you, and especially to those of you who will guide The Chronicle, may these always be the ideals of your school life—Love, Honor, Hope and Service. CLASS OFFICERS President.....................Edward Cox Class Colors Vice-President . . Jennie Wooding Class Flower Green and White Secretary . . . . Florence Downey White Rose Treasurer .... Charles Bowe CLASS MOTTO “Climb Though the Rocks Be Rugged.” Ascende etsi saxa sint aspera.

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“JHje (Eljromcle” ia iteMcatrfc to rxcrllrnrr itt firljularahip itt tlje 5jiglt duutl, anti to gnuti ritisFttBlitp itt tljr town. TABLE OF CONTENTS Our Charge to You - - 1 Class Officers «... 1 Class Motto .... 1 Salutatory Address 2 Pilots of Dream Ships ... 2 Securing World Peace ... 4 The Quest ... - 5 Class Song .... 7 Class Poem .... 8 Today’s Most Notable Experience 8 In Memoriam, with photo of Patrick Sullivan - 9 Roll Call .... 10 Class Honors - 27 Classification - 28 Class Night Numbers Class History 30 Class Prophecy 32 Class Gifts 36 Class Will .... 42 The Chronicle Staff 44 PUBLISHED BI-MONTHLY Application hag been duly made for entrance ag second class matter at the Post Office, Wallingford, Conn. SINGLE COPY, 25c. SUBSCRIPTION PRICE , 75c.

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2 THE CHRONICLE SALUTATORY ADDRESS Friends, teachers, and parents, forget the sadness that is mingled with the joy of this evening—for there is sadness and sorrow in parting—and think how much sweeter and clearer to you is the happiness that has felt the touch of sorrow. We are glad that you have come, and we want you to feel that the Class of 24 is most grateful to you for the great part you all have played in giving to us this night which will be treasured in the Storehouse of Memory forever. Florence Koletzke. PILOTS OF DREAM SHIPS “Lo! Creation’s self is one great choir, And what is nature’s order but the rhyme Whereto the world keeps time, And all things move with all things from their prime? Who shall expound the mystery of the lyre? In far retreats of elemental mind Obscurely comes and goes The imperative breath of song, that, as the wind, Is trackless, and oblivious whence it blows.” —William Watson. Come with me into the Land of Imagination and Dreams. There, there lies a big, beautiful sea, a sea of ever-changing moods and colors. One may reach its shores of shining sands through the doors of music, poetry, nature, art, or literature. On this Sea of Fancy, as it is called by some, sail many ships. And all these ships are sailing on to a single destination, passing through the golden gates to the harbor of Fame and Everlasting Glory. Xow, we are standing on its shores, watching the calm water which is occasionally ruffled by some passing breeze. Suddenly, a faint speck rises over the horizon. A tiny mast appears—a pair of snow-white sails, and soon the outline of a dainty, little ship. The water seems bluer, and it sparkles more joyously as the ship approaches. The skies are clear, and Heaven itself smiles upon the delicate craft. Light breezes waft it on, and it comes swifter and swifter, in a peculiar, dancing rhythm that is all its own. From the far-off land from which it sails, it brings a cargo of treasures. Hidden deep in its hold lie the purest of pearls, fashioned from the foam of the dashing waves of the sea. Then, there are delicate and minutely-carved figures of ivory and fair sandalwood. What beautiful tapestry it bears! What a perfect harmony of colors! One portion has the soft flush of rosy dawn, while another has the deep blue of the ocean. But the pilot—“Who is he?” we ask. Who could it be other than that wonderful man, Chopin, the composer? He is the one who makes our hearts