Madera Union High School - Blue and White Yearbook (Madera, CA)

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A cup overflowing with honey supported itself upon the ladle. “To Marion Gale, I, Olive Crowder, solemnly bequeath my sweet words and kisses.” A young Ford emerged next. “My position as chauffeur, I, Elmer Wattenbarger, will to Molden Baker hoping that he will enjoy it as | have.” A picture of two great eyes was drawn up. “I, Sabra Crow, graciously bestow upon Kathryn Grove my great big fascinating eyes. Please do use them advantageously, Kathryn deah.” A box of powder and rouge appeared. “To Bertha Wood, I, Clyde Cavin, bequeath my dainty pink and white complexion.” The ladle brings up a fashion plate. “My dainty and charming appearance, I, Florence Rea, will to Fay Stephenson.” A “funny” paper “comes up smiling,” “To Curtis Walling, I, Gerald Mosteller, do bequeath my ready wit and humor.” A box of pills manifests itself. “My sickly grin that serves as a magnet to the gentler sex, I, Thomas Cosgrave, bestow upon Jack Porter. Take three pills after each meal—ten be- fore a dance.” A cucumber sprouts up. “My quality of being ‘cool as a cucumber’ in times of stress, I, Louis Wood, bequeath to Beth Mickle. That’s a great gift, and I hope you appreciate Ling eines A French flag waves on high. “To Marie Moore, [, Evelyn Porter, will my charming French accent.” A parrot perches saucily on the ladle. “My friend, Leo Friedberger, bequeaths his garrulity in History IV to Barney Dickey,” says the parot, “Barney needs it!” A well preserved report card floated on the ladle. “To Winifred Smith, I. Velma Blood, will my brilliancy in all my classes.” Up from the crucible came a slip of paper, with the dimly distinguishable words: “Transcendentalism—religio-philosophical teachings characterized by a somewhat mystical phraseology, the exaltation of the spiritual, a tendency to synthesis of a “T, Dorothy Griffin, will my modest linguistic abilities to Tla Coffee.” Last of all a box of Anti-Fat tablets was drawn forth. “I, Frances Kehl, bequeath my slyph-like “figger” to Harvey Knowles,” drawled the alchemist wearily. Then the alchemist and his crucible disappeared in a cloud of vapor and left Kenneth alone with his trust.

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with bottles of all sorts and sizes, and the apparatus he used to work his magic. There was a great fireplace, over which hung the alchemist’s crucible. Hanging overhead were many different varieties of herbs and grasses. The worker in magic labored slowly and deliberately, but at length, heav- ing a sigh of relief, pronounced his task accomplished. Providing himself with a huge ladle, he drew out the long lost articles, one by one. The first time he drew out the ladle, a key was bobbing around in the dark liquid. The alchemist, going into a trance, read the message which he seemed to see in empty space before him. “T, Marjorie Williams, do will to the 1921 P. W. editor my office key, lost during it’s first day in my possession.” The next article to appear was a huge book entitled “How to Make the Girls Love Me.” “T, Orlo Cavin, do give this treasure to Dan Sheldon, with the sincere hope that he will win at least half as many girls as I,” read the alchemist, slowly deciphering the message. A tennis racket was drawn next. “To Tola Safford, I, Laura Allen, bequeath my remarkable athletic ability,” drawled the magician. Then a great pair of tortoise rimmed glasses came to view. “My scholarly mien I, Raymond Shupe, will to Effie Garst, for I realize that she needs it badly.” The ladle brought up a dainty slipper. “T, Enid Freeman, bequeath my love for dancing to Beth Teall. Only seven dances a week now, Beth.” A well worn history book was next drawn from out of the depths. “My prodigious knowledge of Civil Government I, Edna Lewis, leave to the Junior Class. I am afraid Miss Stone might be overcome if I should leave all my knowledge to one poor unfortunate.” A hunting license emerged from out the apparent chaos. “To Lawrence Macon, I, Cornelius Noble, bequeath my unfailing luck in hunting.” After a mighty effort, the little alchemist drew up the ladle heavily bur- dened with huge sticks of gum. “T. Thelma Kendall, bequeath to Geneva Gibbs my endless supply of gum.” The ladle was very light now, for only a tiny piece of music burdened it. “No Curtis Walling, I, Lois Waag, will my musical giggle, providing that he spend his summer yacation learning to render it properly.” A bottle of bandoline and numerous other kid curlers were drawn forth next. “My beautifully sleek wave I, Raymond Coffee, bequeath to Emmett Whitesides.” A speedometer with a warning “Three hundred words to the second,” at- tached, appeared on the ladle. “T, Donald Houston, do bestow upon Dolly Evans, my remarkable rapidity of speech. I know you are badly in need of such a gift, Dolly.” A pair of tiny wings now rested upon the ladle. “My angelic disposition, I Alma Longatti, graciously bestow upon one who is badly in need, namely James Dickey.” 23

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Class Prophecy ENID FREEMAN, ’20 Last night as I lay sleeping You tell me, who'd have thunk it? By my window open flung, I wouldn’t, Vl declare. Visions slipped down on a moonbeam But I saw them—Thelma and Velma— And passed me, one by one. A vaudeville dancing pair. These visions took me swiftly IT next saw Orlo Cavin To scenes both old and new. On a motor truck of hay. They showed me my old classmates He was a successful farmer In nineteen-thirty-two. Living out Berenda way. First I saw an artshop I heard a busy clatter, Arranged in clever style, Ten typewriters all a-gog; And always there to greet you And in their midst was Florence, Was “Baby’s” pretty smile. High-salaried head stenog. The next vision in a twinkling I moved in learned circles Bore me across the main, teceiving haughty looks, There I saw friend Evelyn It was there I saw Dot Griffin, In a chateau on the Seine. The author of many books. “Madame’s Beauty Parlor,” And Leo was a merchant, The lights spelled brilliantly, The next picture made quite clear. Leaning closer, I saw Sabra. He ran his father’s business, The proprietress was she. And still was living here. I found myself in darkness— T saw a downtown office, Then a light flashed on the screen. Where a woman sorted mail. The star was Marjorie Williams, She raised her eyes and saw me, Unrivaled movie queen. And T saw Frances Kehl. “You must be quiet, children !” The next vision showed me Gerald I heard a voice declare. With his pygmy dignity, T’was Madera’s kindergarten, A yery staid professor With Olive teaching there. Teaching truck like Chemistry. A bridge was under construction— Clyde came walking toward me Men toiled with might and main. A huge book under each arm; There I saw “Butch” Noble— fle was now the owner He who supplied the brain. Of a scientific farm. Zs)