Mechanic Arts High School - M Yearbook (St Paul, MN)

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T H E RM!! CLASS WILL MECHANIC Arts High School, being in a more generous mood than usual do on this eve of the ,,T',o,, .P ' fi gi f ts 3 I' gtr C. s Ju 1 graduation of my class of 1927, think it altogether htting and proper to draw up that part of my will which duly concerns the members there- of. Therefore, in the presence of Mr. Lange, my chief adviser, I bequeath: To Miss Heal, my deepest sympathy at losing the advisership of such a wonderful class. To the teachers of this class, sympathy for the lonely state in which the class will leave them and hope that at some future time they may be blessed with similar students. To Frances Obst, Herbert Holmstine, Minnie Goldenberg, Mildred Goldish, Sternie Kissen, David Tennenbaum, Iilsie Anderson, Marjorie Buchanan, Herbert Drecksler, George Esch, Ben- zetta Barry, Hazel Baumen, Dorothy Fvenson, lda Goldstein, Helen Greenberg, Harvey Gus- tafson, Josephine Haas, Arthur Jurgenson, Elea- nor Knippenberg, Irene Kruszewski, Anna Lin- dell, Catherine Musachio, Louise Wortman, Theodore Nightingale, Alfred Onslow, Ellen Parkhurst, Basil St. Peter, Allie Thompson, El- frieda Zibell, and VVilliam Lyon, the Mourner's Bench. Since the above mentioned students have become so attached to this particular piece of fur- niture during their high school course, it is a pity that they should go on through life without it. I leave the division of time of occupation to the good judgment of the members of the group and solemnly beseech them to endeavor to re- frain from coming to blows in this matter. To Harold Anderson and Herbert Brooks, our shop facilities for sharpening skates with the hope that they will learn how to navigate on ice skates. To Virginia Bazille, Christine Bearth, Clar- ice Cochran, Iiva Frank, Ruth Harwood, Annette Kaplan, Jerome Kerlin, Joseph Koropov, Jaro- milla Kriz, Blanche Krosky, Cherry Medbery, Bernice Perkins, Phyllis Pride, Anthony Tschida, and Charles VVinter, the use of the court dur- ing morning hours. They will find it a nice, quiet place in which to meditate upon their life problems, undisturbed. These are the folks who, ever since their first day at Mechanics, have sought a most secluded and isolated seat in the assembly. It has been their deepest desire to be as far away from their friends as possible. They have never been given to unnecessary speech with their neighbors in the assembly. To Bernice Barnhart, Jacob Bisnow, limma Boratko, Lucille Brant, VVilliam Brockman, Mary Coleman, Arilla Carper, Alex Dim, lVIarcella Iiichten, Iivelyn lillis, Hildred Fahey, Raymond Gadow, Marjorie Golden, Carl Gorkin, Lillian Hampl, Lillian Harrison, Iilla Hauge, Claude Herbert, Melvin Hiner, Wilbur Holtz and Mol- ly Kanoun, the fulfillment of the innermost de- sires of their hearts. flt has never been my priv- ilege to receive the intimacy of these people to the extent of their imparting to me such secre- cies as these, but never the less I offer my heart- iest wishes for their coming truelj To Mabel Grunewald, Lydia Jabs, John Korn, Arlene Lindgren, Grace O'Neill, Lois Penshorn, Florence W'ilson, and Lillian Wolter letters rec- ommending them as private secretaries to U. S. presidents for the next 60 years, my influence being such that the legacy amounts to an appoint- ment. fThis statement may be ambiguous, but I mean of course for each to have one president in the order of his or her name-id est, Mabel will be secretary to Cal Coolidge as soon as she graduates. VVhen he goes out of office, Lydia falls heir to the job for the next president, 'et Cetera far into the night. Lillian will have a nice long vacation while poor Mabel is hard at work. It all seems so unfair, but how else can I arrange matters? To Arnold W. Peterson, Arnold S. Peterson, Joyce Petersen and Lorraine Petersen, a peace- ful future over in Sweden. QI forget myself. This is impossible for Joyce is a Norwegian. Three cheers for the Norwegiansj To Louise Rose, Anne Herman, lrene Mc- Alpine, Alphonse Nistler, William Schaller, Alex Stein, Michael Tschida, Dick Scribner, Alfred Braverman and Harriet Waldo, recom- mendation to the IVIetro-Goldwin Studios so that they may win fame as the vampiest vamps and the sheikiest sheiks Hollywood has ever known. ToChesterCurran,Bernard Diebel,Lucille Far- rell, Sam Frisby, Ruth Halstead, Charlotte Heid- eloff, Alice Knutson, John Laabs, Dorothea Ley- man, Reuben Lubofsky, William IVIcNamara, Fi- leen Marum, Alice Merrick, Isabel Mills, Joseph Meyers, Ifdwin Olsen, Robert Parker, Nicholas Roth, Iola Rahm, and Max Rutzick, the privilege of practising in my swimming tank that I hope to have at some future time, hoping that they will all be able to swim the linglish channel before they have reached the age of l02 years. flluth Halstead knows how to swim dog fashion already, just think of itll ' To Lowell Dodge, Louis Laliossiere, Nicholas lvloschogianis, ICdwin Olsen, Lloyd Stafford, Sam Stameshkin, Benjamin Straus, George Temp, Al-

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T H E MH and went to join the group who were discussing the weather, the neighbors who were not there, and the affairs of the world in general. She heard how Bill Bronson's girl was going in for the state scholarship, how llarker's new baby was very sickly, how Kate lyloloney was to be married in March-arid just fancy, she only met her fel- low in Brisbane last October. The district pessi- mist had a group of his own to whom he was proclaiming lf we don't soon have rain, the grass will all dry up and nothing be left for the cattle to eatf, VVhen some one raised the ob- jection that things were prety good this year, he replied, VVell, of course, you haven't lived here as long as l have, as for myself, I haven't seen things look so bad in twenty years.'l just at this moment the rattle of the mail coach coming down the hill could be heard. Soon it came around the corner into sight and everyone went forward to meet it. A queer look- ing contraption it was, with an erst-while white canvas top, empty cream cans tied onto ledges on either side of the coach, several passengers in the back with bundles and parcels on the floor at their feet, the most precious article, the mail bag, in front by the driver. Pulling up with a flourish, the mail man jumped out, and threw the mail bag on the ground where it was seized by several eager hands and turned up side down on the ground, while the mail man unloaded the numerous and varied bundles, the contents of which he had purchased for the work of the district from the stores in the little station town. After all had received their mail, examined their letters, front, back and finally inside, read and discussed the headlines of the two-day old newspaper, they loaded all of their packages and bundles onto their horses and departed for home to go through the routine of evening work on a dairy farm. THE llr C.tX'l'lll4LRINlfI 1 QA crimson of the western skv is re- flected on the great clouds which hover overhead. No sound is heard except the dashing of the angry 'SL 9LT93'L' waters against jagged rocks. The leaves of the sudden breathless calm which precedes the storm lills the forest. The crimson of the sky becomes century-old trees do not stir. The darker, it deepens into scarlet, then swiftly roll- ing black clouds hide the blood-red heavens. Rap- idly they advance. On the plains below, the yellowing grasses bend before the wind, yet in the forest all is still. Suddenly, the high-pitched laughter of a child is heard. Then a slender, golden-haired girl is seen dancing on the velvety gI'1lSS. VVith arms outspread, her lithe body swaying to and fro, she dances with quaint little steps, her saucy eyes and pursed lips half hidden by her bobbing curls. As she daintily twirls and leaps, she glances over her shoulder to observe her companion. lfagerly he watches her. His large dark eyes follow every motion of her swaying body. His lips quiver with a tender smile when he sees her turn her head to look at him. As she pirouettes before him, he touches his crutch beside him. For a moment his eyes were filled with sadness. The girl flings herself on the ground near him, panting. Oh, how l wish that l might dance with you but oncefl he says sadly, for in all his twelve years of life, he has never walked. The rumble of distant thunder reverberates STORM Scnxiiwr through the forest. The lightning flashes. Come, we must go, for it will storm, says when the rumbling has ceased. he No, let me dance again just for a moment, she pleads as she rises. Scarcely waiting for his consent, she begins a fantastic little dance. Circling about, between trees, behind bushes, she twists and turns her way. Closer and closer to the roaring, rushing, luring waters of the stream she goes. The boy watches, fascinated. Suddenly he cries out, but the crashing of thunder covers his warning cry Still she circles and dances, thinking of nothing but her own actions. A flash of lightning rends the sky. Startled, she slips into the raging tor- rent sweeping by. With a cry the lad is on his feet and runs towards the stream-he runs who has never walksd. He plunges into the dark water. He struggles on toward her. He grasps her andlights to reach the nearest bank. Slowly he struggles onward, and hnally she clings to a rock. Then his grasp suddenly loosens. His sigh is scarcely heard above the roaring of the mad waters. His muscles relax, and he is motionless for a moment. Then the rushing waters carry h im onward, l i fel ess. The crashing of thunder has ceased. The clouds have broken apart and rolled away. All is still except for the dripping of water from the leafy trees and the sobbing of the girl as she clings to the body of the dead boy. lt was so that they found them. 16

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T H E M an Yessey, VVilber lVoolery and john Zakreski, the constitution, by-laws, and cast-off suits of my present baseball team with the privilege of or- ganizing a new Saints' baseball team by and consisting exclusively of them. fVVe know there should be only 9 men, let them decide for themselves who shall be subs.Al To Nettie Tankenoff, Dorothy Dow, llaul Halper, Abe Nahinsky, VVillard Finberg, Frank- lyn Kruse, Floyd Nelson, and Louise Raasch, all school instruments not in use in our own orches- tra, together with letters of recommendation that their jazz band be invited to appear in joint con- certs with the lVIinneapolis Symphony Orchestra. To Clinton Forsman and lkflelvin Krause the mud rooml' to try out new stage effects. To lfvelyn Goodrow and Catherine Schmidt the walls of the second floor to be used by these artists for portraits of the illustrious class of 1927. To Gladys johnson, Anna Kenlinight, Fred lxing, Eugene lVIacauley, Signe Ronquist, and lNIarie Snoren, my good wishes to them as mis- sionaries. Gladys will invade Sweden, Anna Ken Knight, and Fred King will go to Ireland: Nlarie Snoren and Signe Ronquist will attempt to civilize the Norwegians, next door neighbors to the land of their own ancestors, while Gene will nobly advance the wrought up lfnglishmen. To Rose Kuller, Clark NIC.-Xllister, Viola Riege, Donald Semple,, Lester lf. Miller, and lVinifred W'oltman the stage in our assembly for rehearsals of their own productions. fRose can play the musicg Yiola will make a line vamp and Clark and Lester can argue over the busi- ness side. YVhere can you find a more romantic hero than Don, or a more adorable heroine than lVinnief To lfdna 'l'euber, the privilege of teaching Latin to the Cannibals at llalin Beach, To lleryl Blorgan, Helen Yitek, Olga Viteli. and Dorothy Vining, Nliss Colterls needles and thread so that they may act as Pariesian -modistes for animals in the African ungles. fThey will know just what the well dressed elephant should wears, the latest manicure for fleas' lnger nails. and will be able to answer the momentous ques- tion, to bob or not to bob for all llapper tigers, lions, pelicans, and goldiish.l To the class at large: memories of the lunch- room pies, recollections of hours on the Mourn- erls Bench after three p. m., reminiscences of our great year in athletics, and last but most im- portant. a loyal and undying interest in all my students. TO LIZZIE By lmcf Rim-LY To you, my Ford, l dedicate this rhyme ln memlry of your long departed youth. Your wheezes tell me of the flight of time, For you and l are growing old, forsooth. Your paint is not so bright as once it was, .-Xnd my enamel's getting wrinkled too. l fear I'll have to get another bus, Or else you,ll have to run as you were new. Ah no, when l recall those by gone days Wlhen you and l were handsome, young and wild, l realize that you, my faithful Ford, And I can never stand to part our ways For though your stuborn nature has me riled, Our hearts will ever beat with one accord. THE COLLEGIATE FORD llv Fiucn Gi-:Rm-in .Xlone it stands in the cold wintry snow. .X battered thing that clutters up the yard Of 'lfrats whose lazy members curse the hard Labor required to start the boat , They know Unce started Lizzie purrs and wants to show Her power on the hill. l say, old 'pardl, Lend me your can , l'm going to a card Party and l want my friend to go. 'llhis greeting hails the owner of a Ford. His wreck's the pal of a college boy, the pridt Of his worldly goods. He is the lord Of a pile of junk. You see him proudly ride Dow-n avenues, and with haughty airs ,He rubs fenders with the millionaires.