Shortridge High School - Annual Yearbook (Indianapolis, IN)

Page 25 text:

The moon hangs light from a delicate bough --A bough that pierces the sky- And sheds pale beams of a lemon hue On the fields that slumbering lie: And ln the fields the blue-green grass Is half-hid in s purple haze. While. from the castle on the hill. Lights shine In a shrimp-pink maze: And on a balcony of mossy grey There leans a maid so fair, Clad ln s gown of startling white And fondling her copper hair. And down below, from the crimson shade, Steps forth a knight in blue, His heart poured forth to his lady love ln s song of lavender huel The maiden smiles a pale green smlle As she looks in his striped eyes IN POSTER LAND And leans down over the yellow rall With fluttering vlolet cries! But the critic sadly turns away. In his heart a dark-brown pain. For the day that will never. never come When the possible shall reign! The way to be a poetess is to weara Passion gown: Or if an artist you must be, let your hair grow long a-down: Wear a collar high and a flowing tie And a wise. wise look ln your weather eye, And speak of Technique and the pea-green sky And use a lorgnette when your friends pass by! Speak in audible tones of clolsonne' And rugs on which the heathens pray, Of arts and crafts, upstarts and grafts And you'll be an artist In the modern way.

Page 24 text:

THE LIGHTS THAT FAILED out, the Iight leaped up, revealing Brownly with his face Iivid with rage and grotes ue with its wealth of the mealy contents of the brown potato skins which decorated no-longer immaculate uniform. With a splutter of anger he roared out 'form ranks' and as' the innocent looking cadets sprang into line, 'All those who threw any missile whatever at me, step one pace forward.' Brownly hardly knew what all they had thrown at him, but he did realize that not a movement broke those monotonous ranks. No allies this timeg he had been in the dark indeed, and with helpless rage he saw that their vengeance was complete. K' IF? 1 :1 Q Q u Q 'f 4 AIR CASTLES WHO, wandering inthe pathless realms of fancy, hath not discovered castles zephyr built? Who, by fairy magic hath not built his owm, only to have them fade away as smoke in air, and as the fragrance of the violet, mingle in the atmosphere? Who hath not built his golden palace diamond studded? I-Ie that hath not-alasli.

Page 26 text:

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