Philadelphia High School for Girls - Milestone Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

Page 17 text:

Class of February, 1921 CLASS l'0EII Ct hail .' our Alina lllater, strong and true, U hail to thee our lifelong help and friend, All hail to thee to whom our honor s due And let our songs of praise be without end. Ah praise! let us thee praise from far and wide, Applaudl let us applaud thy virtues fine, li.raltt let us t'.l !1ll thy dealhless fame, Rejoieet let us rejoiee in being thine. Let ns delight in being at thy side, Let us inerease the glory of thy name. O thee, our Guide and Mentor, thee we hail ll'ho nobly gives our heritage of light, To serve, to help, to conquer, not to fail To set our goals to ideals not in sight. And those whose guidanee sweet has pointed out Fine lives of serAz'iee, sought by those who eure,' lllhose lifztes well spent with not so mueh to gain , But endless tributes, happy, true and fair. Oh blessed lives! eonld we thy glory shout How sweet the thought of lives not spent in zfain. And ns, our elose eontaet with finer lifes Has nuide more noble. Undying gratitude Keeeivel thy youngest daughter too eontrizfes A sad farewell, tradition's bitter food. But youth with dauntless hope will e'er prefvail, Earh deed shall be a stepping sto-ne to lead Us upzuardg some rnay slip, others may fall But all be rieher,' sinee the nngained deed Too, leaves its mark, let not distrust assail And make unheard rewarding z'iet'rys' eall. Then let us ever upfward, onward go ll'ith l'ineit qui se 2'ineit, shining bright, Our motto great, by zohieh we live and grow. And let it help us make a winning fight. But now the day of parting drafzes so near, And we, thy youngest daughters, venture forth To leave the kindly nest foe love so well, When we must all rezfeal our own true worth. Farewell to thee, our school and teaehers dear Farewell, our Alina Mater, fare thee well. MAZIE LEIGH, ELSIE TEITLEBAUM. Faq: Eleven

Page 16 text:

Philadelphia High School for Girls The Class of February, 1921, Philadelphia High School for Girls. MY DEAR GIRLS: Four years ago it was my privilege to welcome you to the Philadelphia High School for Girls. I remember the occasion very well. You were full to over- Howing with interest, enthusiasm and curiosity-a very natural and a very proper, if not an altogether academic, curiosity. A few weeks ago it was my good fortune to meet you again and to find out in the pleasant hour we spent together what these four years have done for you. As before I found you with overflowing spirits, but this time with interests deeper and broader, enthusiasms steadier and that very natural and proper curiosity less obvious and better directed. This renewal of our acquaintance brought me great pleasure and greater satisfaction. The world is much in need of people who are alive and alert and who have ever present in them the desire to know whatever is worth the knowing. Keep the contacts you have made in these high school days sharp and clear, fight that unfortunate tendency of old Father Timeto dull en- thusiasms and, above all, go right on wanting to know things. If tradition is to be trusted this last is a totally unnecessary piece of advice to offer a group of girls. Be that as it may, it is certainly true that well-directed stimulating curiosity is the secret of progress and not for a moment to be confused with idle inquisitiveness which has no value. Good gifts our good old school has developed and directed in you-wide interests, vital enthusiasms, stimulating curiosity, and one other- the capacity for friendship which will mean to you always joy and comfort beyond price. As you go your various ways with these good gifts in your hands please be assured of my grateful appreciation of your friendly remembrance of me at this time, my abiding interest in you and my very good wishes for each and every one of you. Always faithfully yours, KATHARINE PUNCHEON POMEROY. Page Tan

Page 18 text:

Philadelphia High School for Girls Mnuntain HHUIH There is an old saying which I love to turn topsy-turvy. You are making mountains out of mole hills, say our sage wiseacres when our experiences seem smaller to them than they do to us. Ah, don't you wish we could? VVhen I was a little girl our lawn was infested by moles and covered with mole hills. We children were always stumbling over those hills and often we were thrown to the ground. If only we could have turned them into something which would have helped us up instead of tumbling us down. If we could have made them into mountains, how joyfully we would have climbed them. Moreover, one of them transformed to a mountain would have blotted out all the others and become a point of vision. Those mole hills typify to me the irksome, trivially unpleasant experiences, and I am sure that whenever I have turned my mole hills into mountains, they have been of more value to me and easier to overcome. If we can glorify the mole hills of our experience into points of vision, and approach them wifh cour- age and faith as dihiculties worth overcoming rather than a hzll over which we fall, can not we live more truly and finely? Did you ever stop to think of the difference between a hill and a mountain? The dictionary fails to note the distinction carefully, but in matters of this kind it has never been an infallible guide. There is something discouraging about a mere hill. Last year I spent some time in a hilly country district and I found that the people there have a strong aversion to hills. To them hills mean toil- and mud. As they trudge upward, the sun scorches, the wind cuts, or the rain drenches them for the trees are too small to give any shelter. They struggle up only to find that the hill top gives no helpful glimpse of wonder and beauty. They see only more hills and valleys and beyond another hill to climb. In such a country a man soon learns to plod, and unless he can find his joy in drudgery he echoes in his spiritual as well as his physical life, that. to me, most discouraging of poems: Does the road wind up hill all the way? Yes, to the very end. But how differently one thinks of a mountain. VVhenever in prose or poetry, hills lose their suggestion of toil, you will find that in the mind of the writer or in actual fact, they are mountains. In some versions of the Bible we find, I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help written I will lift up mine eyes unto the mountains. The mountain is the place of inspiration and transfiguration. It is on the mountain heights that men have seen God in His glory and holiness and tender love as well as in His power. On a mountain top the greatest sermon was preached. Perhaps it is not true of you, but to me up hill suggests a weary roadg mountain climbingu a magic path. The path, in reality is steeper than the road, but it is more easily trod. Of course in actual experience the beginning of a mountain path is often found in a hill road, a broad, toilsome, well-traveled wayg but we endure it for the thought of what is beyond. VVe know the heights are above us and are to be won. The most important part of a mountain climber's equipment is not his staff, but his faith in the height, for once he is on the real mountain path the summit is lost in view. There must be effort in plenty, but from it and with it comes the joy of get- ting higher, higher near the goal. No mountain climber ever plods. He goes with a sure foot and a light swinging stride. His shoulders never droopg his head never sinks between them. But you must not think that the path is without hardships. Often it is steep beyond belief. Sometimes it lies along the edge of a ,cliff many hundreds of feet in height, and one little misstep on the slippery rock may send you headlong into the valley below. Sometimes it seems lonely, but not often, for we seldom climb mountains alone. When we come to a bit of the path which we can not conquer without aid, Put Twain