Sylvania Burnham High School - Burgoblac Yearbook (Sylvania, OH)

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Ch mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm n mmm 4 mmmmmmmmmm A ll i'iAVm'm'fFfNmVmVmVmN N B A CLASS PROPHEC Y I PULLED the rich velvet drapes aside on my luxurious bed and quickly climbed between the silken sheets, one stormy night, I felt a vague presentiment of some oncoming event. Scarcely had I closed my eyes when I heard a window quietly raised, a muffled footstep on the thick Persian rug, closer and closer to my bed- side. I heard a rustle of the drapes. A light was snapped on. A fierce looking man with long black whiskers stood before me. What could he want? I was soon to find out. He seized me, carried me through the window and placed me in an aeroplane. It was an abductor. My heart sank and my lips froze with terror. V . n Mile after mile we flew through the air in the swiftest of planes.- It seemed days before we landed. I saw my capturer step from the plane. I escaped and rushed into the nearest house. Imagine my surprise when I looked into the kind, motherly face of Winifred Hobbins. Could it be possible that I had ridden from my chateau in France to Sylvania, my old home town? Winnie's home seems so modern. Many happy children blessed it with their joyful presence. Little Max Jr. resembles his father very much both mentally and physically and shows great promise of becoming a French barber which is Mr. Worthy's occupation. . The trip had made me hungry and not wishing to impose on Winnie, I went in search of a restaurant. As I entered and seated myself, a waiter came to my table, munching an apple as she ambled along. Up I jumped and began to shake her hand. When her surprise had subsided some- what, We renewed our acquaintance. It was Luella Burkhardt. Looking back of the counter, I saw the owner of the restaurant. A very huge man indeed,-why of course I knew him. Who wouldn't know Bruce Wagon- lander even though he had been promenading on the Chinese wall. By his apparent excess avoirdupois he must have been his own best customer. As I rushed from the restaurant eager to meet more of my old friends, I bumped against an old and grizzled man engaged in sweeping streets. J ove, thought I, where have I seen that face before. Slowly the haggard features became more distinct. It couldn't be Stuart Ramsey. No. I wouldn't speak to him! I brushed aside and walked on still harboring those school day grievances which he dealt to me in the long ago. Hurrying into a grocery to buy an apple, Luella having started my craving for one, I walked up to the counter. A flash of recognition lit up the eyes of the lady. ,Twas Marion Peck or Marion Thorp as she explain- I:Page 291

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ltr vmvm fmi l I mmrmxmmmxmm . . m . mrmxmmrmmmfmmrm . m . Mmm K q . through the dismissal of our debts We gave a dance and box social, which was not any less successful. And again spring had come, accompanied with the longing for the beautiful nature, the pretty land we had left be- hind. We made our departure in The Spirit of the Sophomore Class, into the wide and beautiful world with its indescribable nature. To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language, for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty 5 and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy that steals away Their sharpness ere he is aware. With the plane The Spirit of the Junior Class, we arrived at our school the following year. Being satisfied with our main pilot, Howard Day, we re-elected him. Mrs. Roberts, however, took the place of the chief advisor, Luella Vesey, the place of the assistant-pilotg Esther Fos- naugh, the place of the secretary and treasurer. With the co-operation of the student body, as well as the cast, the production of the play The Arrival of Kitty was a great success. With as much pep, we Juniors, entertained at the annual J unior-Senior Banquet. Now we have come to our last year not knowing whether to call it the gladdest or saddest of all four. We worked hard in order to set an ex- ample for the lower classes and to make our flight through the busy World a success. Our annual, class play and many other duties a Senior must perform, kept us busy the whole year. When we think of leaving our dear old Burnham and all the pleasure we have had-forever-the tears come into our eyes and it is pretty hard to keep themback. However, realizing that new students shall come and take our place, we hope that we shall live in their hearts forever which will help us leave dear old Burnham with our hearts joyously crying, Oh, speed you, white-winged ship of mine Oh, speed you to the sea, Some other day, some other tide, come back again for meg Come back with all the memories, the joys and e'en the pain And take me to the black and golden hills of Burnham-Hi, again -Mathias M atzek fPage 281

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in : zz - wmv v zmsv mi l I G m . mmxmmrm . . mmmmmvxxmrmxmfmrx A Mmm IMA . ' 1 ed to me. She and Herbert were running a grocery. Suddenly I felt a sharp pain go through my heart. My friends rushed me to the Doctor's office above. As I opened my eyes I met a pair of twinkling blue eyes. I had no' trouble in recognizing them at once as those belonging to Dr. Bob Halbert. He was glad to see me indeed for he had just received a letter from Alfred Pearson CCzar of Russial inviting us to tea the following week. Quickly recovering from my slight stroke which was no doubt brought on by the effect of the apple onbmy advancing years, I left Dr. Halbert J r's oflice for the cool crisp air of Sylvania once more. Having some urgent business to transact, I hastened in next door to a lawyer's office. The office boy ushered me in and as he looked up at me innocently, I recognized him as -Frederick Benton, a friend of school days. He oiered me a paper as I was not at once ushered into the dignified pres- ence of the lawyer. I sat chatting with his secretary. The black eyes looked familiar. But, no '?- This must be Esther Fosnaugh. It was such a merry time we had. The busy lawyer saw us talking and joined us. I knew him at once. The little business like mustache could not disguise him wholly. It was Arthur Shanley. We settled down in his comfortable oiiice chairs for a pleasant chat, but our conference was doomed to be short- lived. The door was opened bringing in with it an air of wrath and ire. It was Arthur's wife, Henrietta. Not wishing to stay and witness a family argument, I made my adieus quickly and made my exit. Having tired of restaurant fare I decided to lunch in a private home if possible. I saw a sign meals in front of a neat little bungalow. I bang- ed the knocker vigorously. A stout maid met me at the door and took my wraps. I didn't at once know her, but was soon enlightened. It was Nellie Comstock. She was working for John Rosenbrock an owner of vast real estates and his wife, Iva. Nelle's husband, Gordon Everett, was French tutor for the little Rosenbrocks. The lunch was enjoyed by all as it consisted of a great variety of vege- tables fresh from the Bowman farm. 1 Feeling pretty good after the repast, I felt I should improve my mind so I stopped at the.art museum so that I might study the great pictures. As I entered I had the great opportunity of meeting one of the city's fore- most artists, Harold Myers and his beautiful model, Jeannette Shull. I needed no introduction and forgot my resolution to study and went strolling with my old friends. As we walked slowly down the street We unconsciously came to a charity bazaar seemingly run by the salvation army. Help the poor and needy was the urgent cry. My conscience, having pricked me several times of late for my seeming neglect of the poor, A IfPage 301