Plainfield High School - Milestone Yearbook (Plainfield, NJ)

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THE ORACIE: 19 even for the accommodation of all its devotees is necessarily small. Inter- ested in the work of Prof. Whitall are the Misses Brick and Thompson. Their record is good but they have made so little noise in both worlds that it has beeen difficult to follow their careers, The Rafferty theatrical trust stands boldly before us. Will made a vast fortune during the success of the Sigma Delta Phi stock company, he himself composing all their plays in French. At present he is endowing a course in Platonic Friendship between the girls and Doyerot Peis: Look in the office of the theatrical trust—Isidore Rothberg, property manager. Isidor is working hard, and I hear that he is only repeating the good work that he did in our own play. Ah! the Central Railroad of Mars, D. W. Wilcox president. Yes, Dudley got the position thru his wife’s influence. After graduating from Brown, Dudley settled on Mars where he spends his time running the Railroad when he is not leading cotillions. The Howe public school of Mars; Principal, Rose Rothberg; Vice- principal, Helen Sachar,—two old ‘o8 girls. Always together, marriage for them had no charms since it meant separation and the giving up of school work. Another teacher in the school is Donald Mortimer. No, he never went on the stage but once. He is busily engaged at present—no, not with a man—a Hunter isn’t necessarily a man. Teachers of art in the Howe School are Lillian Whitall and Cornelia Christofferson ; both of their lives are sweet but uneventful, Even Mars is not without labor troubles. Down the street comes Wallace Pearce, Agitator. Wallace, too, has never married. He never stopped talking long enough to give the lady time to answer. We'll look at the tennis courts’a moment—May Doane is just taking off the honors in a match. May is still a mystery, so silent that we know nothing of her career. Ah, a speech! Sallo Mortimer Kahn is delivering for the 98th time his lecture on “The tail End of a Lost Chord or Why I am so Clever or How I Got my Pull with Mr. Travell.” | But what a gloomy building! J. Dutcher, undertaker. John himself steps out wreathed in smiles, but he stops at the corner; we cannot wait, John, because it is a girl.

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18 THE ORACLE, Again my eyes are dazzled. I can hardly stand it; what is that which approaches? Yes, it’s small, but it’s very brilliant. It comes closer; why, it’s none other than our valedictorian, little Esther Crampton; and the dazzling light? oh, yes, that’s the reflection of her insignia, P. H. S. ’o6, Cornell 11; he Gav—ett to her back in the old school days and she wears it constantly. Esther went to Wellesley and, after finishing her course, turned out to be a very good prize fighter; until now, using her six foot husband for a ball, she fairly outdoes the ancient Hercules in slinging people and things around. But why does everyone rush down the street as tho he had been shot ? ah, ves! I see; there’s CHauncey Murphey at the other end of it—and he’s singing! Well, Chauncey tried a great many things—College, politics, banking—but nobody would lend him any money—and ash carting—but the latter was too hard on his sensitive nature, until finally he settled down to only two —prize fighting and girls; with these he has succeeded, so that with the great 400 pound lady-love he develops himself to meet the demands of his strenuous occupation. Who is that tall, slender, rakish looking fellow, standing gazing at the tall building? Walter Caldwell, by jove! We have heard that he is a mechanical engineer; can it ke that he’s inspecting that structure? No, it seems to be complete; why no, he must have forgotten something. See how vigorously he mops his heated brow, on which there rests a white felt hat with purple band. We have it—his wife has sent him shopping. He seems to mutter,—‘ A Pound,—a Pound,—a Pound,—” but we can delay no longer. Walter, will you never cultivate a memory? But an airship has fallen into the public square, and with it, George Fisher! Just a moment, and George will unravel his facial decoration from the complicated machinery. No college was thoro enough for George; so after a complete course of electricity in his own boudoir he has made a reputation for himself along those lines. Ah, but he looks careworn and tired; no wonder, George is still working on a system for the proper ring- ing of bells in P. H. 5: Walter Hammond—and as usual with a girl—yes, he finished a course at Stevens while she perfected herself in art. Since then they have been married and Walter with her little pin and bow for inspiration has become a valuable assistant to the science departments on Mars. The Whitall school of silence and learning. Following his theory that the two go together, Roy is the founder of that sehool to the right, which

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20 TATE SORAGIER, Elizabeth Randall, a dainty nurse, appears from around the corner. Elizabeth has never married. Just as she was about to accept the man, she suddenly remembered many accounts of man’s fickleness, and with her usual calm reason to her aid, she refused him on the spot. There is Elizabeth Pound—over there—yes, I said Miss Elizabeth Pound, yes, I said Miss—of course it’s possible; yes, for out of the crowd of numerous suitors Bess has not yet been able to choose one with whom she feels eternity would be endurable. However, in that red building to the left she successfully conducts a college of fussing. All acknowledge that a certificate from that institution renders one assured of being an able can- didate for matrimony. Miss Pound lives there as happy as the DEY is LONG; CALDWELL, too, she is, and OSGOOD to all as ever, since she is never MALcontent with her lot. A valuable assistant in his sister’s school is Henry Pound. With his motto “Slow but Sure,’ he has never failed to bring the standard of his pretty girl pupils up to that set by his sister. But we miss one face from among the crowd. Where is our graceful Miss Kelly? Alas! they say she has deserted the others and retired to a castle in Sunny Spain, whose inmates she delights with her fancy dances and her various creations in dress-making and millinery. Along the suburbs I see a second Scotch Plains. Elliotville seems to be the name. After tiring of the exertion of an ordinary life, Miss Elliot has retired to the stars and there rests content. And there stands Leslie Leland in the public square—I wonder if he’s acting in the capacity of nurse to those little girls? Why, I do declare he’s fussing! but Leslie always would take children to raise. Stenographer in the Mars hotel, Miss Katherine Gray. Down at P. H. S$. there were few who could manage Katherine but they say she is at last going to have a BOSS. John Schofield, civil engineer, graduate of Stevens. After escaping from Hoboken he has settled down to the simple life, since wine, women and song, have little charm for John. Orlando Lounsbury knew which side his bread was buttered on, for he took a Cook for his partner in life. The Matinee Idol of Mars, his head has never been turned by all the admiration of the fair sex, most of his time being spent in pressing church duties. A narrow speck looms larger as it approaches—ah, it is no other than