Mount Penn Lower Alsace Joint High School - Penn Alma Yearbook (Reading, PA)

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HiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiaiii THE CLASS OF TWENTY-TWO Tune—“Le Marseillaise. I We, sons and daughters of the Brown and Gold, We rise into the ranks of men. We have come to the end of the lane, We are entering the great highway, The great highway of life. We are prepared for the great struggle With wisdom and strength and right, Dressed in the panoply of God, ()ur help in the past and the future. Forward ! our cry so true ; Forward ! to die or do; March on; March on to glory and fame For the class of '-'2. II The past is but a place of deepest gloom. Pierced by a single noble gleam. At first it was but a feeble spark, Gradually stronger and stronger it grew, Until it now is a fierce glowing flame; It is the light of a class, strong.and noble, Able to fight ’gainst greatest odds, To contend in the battles of the future, As it made the past give up its victory. The class so strong and true ; metal of golden hue : We’ve come to the place where we must leave The class of ’22. III Oh! Now may we, the sons of truth and right. Go forth from this dear school of ours, May the future hold out its greenest palms, May our crowns be of brightest gold, The gold of our class colors true. May the Brown, the color of armies, Be the seal of a courageous fight, And so may the colors. Brown and Gold, Be a sign for our strength and our right; Forward ! our cry so true ; Forward ! to die or do ; March on; March on to glory and fame For the class of ’22. IIl!lll!§llf!ll!Iilllll!ilifllHI«lillfl!llllll!l!IM Nineteen

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nip................................................................................................................... :r .n! .1;:: iiii:i,ii; -ihiiiM.. '■ M ........................................ Prophecy— ESTHER ADAMS Well, how queer, the crystal does not act. Oh, there it is, but what? Is this a parade? Oh no. I see a sign on the side; it is the Bel-font State College ’bus line. All stop in front of the large college. Everybody enters the wide hall. To be sure, you are there, looking from right to left for “Honie.” Why, 1 have looked wrong; it is “Homer.’’ Now you are in the domestic science room cook • ing. never looking at cheese, for, remember, you have “never to eat cheese again.’’ You have now finished a successful course and using your household arts you have bought and furnished the small English home in Jacksonwald which you had decided to turn into an old maid’s hall, but what is home without a Homer. And now the Adams old maid cottage is turned into the Weider home. MARGARET ELLIS See, you are leaving Mt. Penn High School, never to return. A sad look of despair creeps over your beautiful countenance as you look back upon the faces of schoolmates and friends, and of the latter, most especially upon the face of the handsome, dashing young Sir Galahad, of the junior class dear to you. But, nevertheless, you are prepar ing to go to college. You are seated on the floor of your room packing your clothes, arranging your blouses and nicely folding the !).!)8s. The time has come for your departure, and you are having a party—why, that has stopped; how strange; my crystal has never stopped without my consent. But, oh, this must be some college campus. Large lawns, trees and wide gravel paths. The scene changes to a class-room. Oh. there you are, at your desk, with a large French class before you. French !s your line. You are a French teacher in a Continued large college. Oh, that has also stopped. Strange that the crystal should act that way. Ah; I have said French is your line. The crystal shows a sign, “French Cleaning and Dyeing.” The interior of the French shop is shown, and you appear in bright array. You have taken upon you the idea that you have “lived to dye,” and you are going to “dye to live.” PROPHECY OF PROPHET S. ALICE IBACH I had a strange dream one evening concerning one of my classmates. She was a tall, husky young lady, with brown hair and sparkling brown eyes. She was formerly a school teacher, teaching a small country school at Stony Creek. Then I saw her in a spotless white garment as a dental nurse, assisting a prominent dentist in New York city. One day a young man entered the dentist’s office with a terrible toothache. The tooth was perfect, and the dentist thought it was a shame to pull it, so he told the nurse to fix it up. She put some soothing medicine on his tooth which seemed to relieve the pain almost immediately. While she was fixing his tooth, he thought her face was familiar, so he asked her who she was and where she lived before she came here. She answered by saying, I lived at Cherry Dale, and my name is Alice Ibach. “Well. I declare,” was his reply. “I am Sheldon Tice. Remember the good times we had together playing tennis?” They sat down and talked about old times which brought back fond memories of the past. They talked awhile, and then they left. He was a detective in New York. He called occasionally, and both of them being homesick, they decided to move nearer home. They built a bungalow big enough for two, near Antie-tam. Eighteen iiiiiiiHfiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

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iiiiaiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiwiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii Class Poem We must leave, it’s time for parting, Our triumphant day draws nigh; But with glory we’ll march onward, And we’ll praise you, Mt. Penn High. The good days we’ve spent together, In our joy and happy youth; We shall cherish while we follow Paths of honor and of truth. We have fought and we have conquered, Struggles e’er remain untold; For a future great we’re seeking, Spirited by Brown and Gold. Friends and comrades, we are leaving Comrades, true, in days of yore; But friendship firm will be renewed, When we meet on yonder shore. Adieu to Alma Mater now, The dear school we’ve loved so well; For as the class of twenty-two, We must bid our last “Farewell.”