Shortridge High School - Annual Yearbook (Indianapolis, IN)

Page 12 text:

' -- ,, , . I ., , LI- ' I- ' Y Ting '15 I I I ' I I I I F I I I I I I- I E I I I I I E , 5 I I , ' I . ,qu I I I I I II I I I L

Page 11 text:

E D I T O R I A L OR MORE THAN six months past, we of the Annual staff have been working toward our goal, a publication that is worthy to take its place with the ever increasing volumes of Shortridge history. We are well aware of the fact that from year to year the Annual has been constantly advancing in 9 artistic and literary attainments. From day to day we have been striving, sometimes faltering, but ' never discouraged, in order that our Annual may continue those traditions and, if possible, be just a little better than its predecessors. Whether we have succeeded finally in reaching our goal, We are uncer- tain. We have attempted, however, to give our readers some new and interesting features, as well as a brief resume of the history and activi- ties of the class. It is for you, the readers, to judge whether or not the book has come up to your expectations. In looking back over the mere day of life, most people agree that it was the morning that was the happiest. It is always the days spent in school that a person wishes to live over again. We who are now in the morning of our lives little realize how glorious it really is. We have expe- rienced nothing else. We realize that such happiness cannot be everlast- ing. Even now we are progressing out of this first period of our lives- we are going on to greater things. The Annual staff has endeavored to represent the happy career of our class in such a way that a pleasant memory of the four years spent in Shortridge halls, with Shortridge ideals, with Shortridge standards, and with Shortridge friends, will be vividly recalled to us when, in future years, we open this, our book. 10 52 6 .+: ' -THE EDITOR. ! ,-, I ,' .1 , , 5 I ,. , ,I . fi .f c I 1 ' ' f' , f . f' A

Page 13 text:

F I N G-E-IS-ll-II-A-Il-K S BETTY ANN PARROTT ' NNE MARSHALLED her four children grimly I into four white beds, disfigured by exceedingly I 3 V t numerous and exceedingly black and sticky fin- . r, , ' t, . germarks. They protested loudly at this indignity, H1 ' A ' as they did every night and which, Anne thought l x APG, F I wearily, they1 would do as long as they were 0 V U , young enough to be put to bed. She glanced t -1--V. J around the disordered nursery which had been Qsle I white and clean that morning, in fact was white o ifw. v and clean every morning, and shuddered in dis- pg-,.., ..-1- gust at the stickiness and smears. She sighed as she picked up the scattered toys and put them in the cracked white box, sighed for a home where there would be no dirty little fingermarks on woodwork and furniture, and where everything would be forever fresh and clean, sighed for four children whose dresses and rompers would keep prim and starched, and whose curls would stay in place, instead of tumbling in cloud-like balls all over their heads, and most of all Anne sighed for a house in which quiet reigned. John and Anne had been invited out that night, to the home of an old friend and, as she dressed, Anne Kenyon tingled with anticipation, for it had been many a week since she and John had been invited out and were able to go. On the way out, her head rested on John's shoulder, as she mused on the type of a house her chum would have. The woodwork in the living room would be old ivory, and softly shaded lamps and velvety look- ing furniture would soothe jangled nerves. Upon their arrival, the home proved to be all Anne had anticipated. She saw in it the competent and tasteful judgment of her hostess. The very Walls expressed Mrs. Sher- wood, with her perfect coiffure of beautiful waves, her smart dress, and her deft manner of handling the conversation. The Woodwork was of mellowed ivory and the walls of pale green tint. This color scheme was carried out in the lamps, upholstery, books, and other appointments. No scuffs from stubby shoes marred the satiny finish of the wallsg no im- prints of fat little hands were on window pane or furniture. This home was as it should be, thought Anne. In answer to a query from John, little Eleanor Sherwood was brought in. She was just the age of Anne's six year old Ruth. Tall for her age and pale, Eleanor's long, black curls hung in prim precision and her trig French frock boasted not a wrinkle. Anne had been on the verge of inviting her down to play Indian with Ruth some afternoon and then checked herself in time. Imagine Eleanor in the head-dress of a fiery, bold, and turbulent chief of the Hopis! It just wouldn't be done! Aloud she said: Does Eleanor go to school, Ethel? Indeed, no. Eleanor has a tutor from 9:00 to 1:00. After that is her lunch and siesta, and then Jane usually takes her for a walk. I see. But when does she play?