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Page 32 text:
Alice Lowman wills her habit of being tardy to Martha Der- rick. Lillian Pack wills her gentle, Puritan nature to Evelyn Worley. Daisy Nelson wills her love for all things christened “Henry” to Vera Groseclose. Gertrude Jennings wills her spontaneous giggle to Conway Smith. Dorothy Jameson wills her brains to Howard Gilmer. Minnie Cannaday wills her “specks” and rosy cheeks to Virginia Roberts. Fourth: To the members of the faculty we will the following: To Mr. Brugh, our sincere appreciation of his kind advice and inspiring influence during the past year. To Miss Thomas, our gratitude and thanks for her most helpful aid all through our four years of high school. Also, a class that will love her almost as much as we do, not quite, though, for it couldn’t be found. To Mr. Eckman, the respect and love of each individual member of the Class of ’23. We also will to him a French class that will study regularly all irregular verbs assigned by him. To Miss Finks, an English class that does not believe brevity to be the soul of wit. To Miss Chaffin, a Geometry class that can put a figure on the board in less than forty-five minutes and “stand up” when reciting. To Miss Watts, a Latin class that does not kick at too long or too short lessons. Also, a smaller Virgil class. In testimony whereof, we have written and signed and do declare this paper this the 23rd day of May to be our last will and testament. Minnie Cannaday, ’23, Testator.
Page 31 text:
Last Will and Testament We, the 1922-23 Senior Class of Pulaski High School, feeling that we are facing the end of P. H. S. life, do solemnly declare this to be our last will and testament, disposing as wisely and dis- creetly as we are able all our real and personal property. First: We, the Senior Class of ’23, hereby will to the Junior Class our “Good Will,” together with our neversharp pencil sharpener, so that they may always be supplied with pointless pencils in case of emergency — such as a surprise written lesson. We also will to the Junior Class the responsibility of keeping alive The Oriole, the little bird that came to make its home in P. H. S. in 1921 and finding conditions favorable for its growth remained, becoming an essential and creditable asset to Pulaski High School. We hope that it may continue to grow with the coming years, in the hands of our successors. Second: To the remainder of the high school we will free tickets to the Senior Class, with our compliments. Third: Elizabeth Matheney wills her fame as an actress to Isabelle Miller. Beveridge Roberts wills her editorship of The Oriole to Thelma Richardson. She also wills her curls to James Cummings. Gerard Southern wills his good looks to Foy McGuire. He also wills to William Allison the right to ring the period bells. Minnie Peirce wills her winning ways to Alyne Hurd. Ernest Lewey wills his popularity to Marvin Harden. He also wills the honor of being president of his class to Billy Cheves. Aline Stuart wills her cheerful nature to Alene Miller. Marshall Runion wills his love for Miss Watts’ Latin to John Cox. Nannette Livingston wills her cute smile to Beatrice Webb. Henry Foglesong wills his sporty nature and red hair to Ronald Powell. Mamie Russell wills her bobbed hair and freckles to Naomi Cannaday. William Bones wills his fame as a walking history to Clarence Miller. Sena Thompson wills her low and musical voice to John Crowder. Robert Bunts wills his right as the tallest boy ever to graduate from P. H. S. to Hastwell Sizer. Anna Allison wills her flirting ability to Maxine Umberger.
Page 33 text:
Prophecy of 1923 Pity me, readers, if this prophecy is worthy of the least bit of praise — spare it; do not praise me — pity me, my nerve-racked body and my agonized soul. I tried all manner of oriental drink and demoniac incense trying to coax my tired brain to relax into a fitful or fantastical mood so that I could be able to relate to the Class of ’23 that which future has in store for them. I called on Future herself and her elusive accomplices to aid me in my delicate task. I practiced demonorality in the belief that the all important “Book of Fortune” would open its golden pages to me and give my worried brain peace and quiet. But that drink, that horrible burning incense which I smoked in such staggering quantities only made me more frantic and made my brain more inactive. My calls on Future, my time spent waiting on that magic book were all in vain. I felt dis- couraged, I was helpless in my plight, the incense was sickening in its heavy fumes, the drink had deadened my brain, 1 fell into a deep slumber accompanied by a fretful, horrible and dread- ful dream. Ah, what a dream! What cold and inexpressible terror? May God never visit any poor mortal with such an unendurable, agonizing, hysterical, phantasy as that which visited me that never to be forgotten night. I awoke with utter horror, my sluggish blood seemed frozen in my veins, my morbid brain, despite the heavy ordor of incense was, thorough- ly clear but in a state of complete inactivity due to my agony and fright. Cold perspiration, which to my numb, stricken senses felt like great drops of red blood, was upon my brow, but the muscles of my arms refused to respond when I asked them to move and wipe it off. I was dumbfounded, terrified — cold chills which felt more like cold-chisels chased up and down my spinal column in deathly frenzy. My heart thumped with sledge-hammer blows which echoed in the awful silence of my chamber, against my ribs. But the dream — I’ll tell it to you in the fewest words possible as it brings back to my mind more vividly than ever those maddening recollections. I dreamed that I had died; the immediate cause, whether sickness, accident, or what not, I do not remember. Neither do I recollect the final destination of this cursed and desolate soul of mine. My first recognition of my whereabouts was that I was in a grave — a still, cold, clammy, and silent grave. My casket or wooden overcoat had returned to the “dust from whence it came.” But strange to say, my shroud and other apparel was
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