Valparaiso High School - Valenian Yearbook (Valparaiso, IN)

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20 HIGH SCHOOL ANNUAL CLASS PROPHECY. Working one day in Miller ' s Lalioratory I was weary and ill at ease And my fingers wandered idly Around in the tub?s and keys. I do not know what I was doing Or what I was dreaming the while, But it sernied that the test tube before n Swelled out almost more than a mile. All through the large room it flooded Like an inflated rubber balloon And on it were painted the destinies Of the class that must graduate soon, slender figure with arms wavi resses a mass meeting of his De n the lireeze as atic constituents is Byron Findliug; and the coui)l( ' sittinii- side ))y side on the front row of seats, enthusiastically aiijjlauding every climax of the great orator, speak to each other as Ross and Ethel. I see a new Female Seminary operated and controlled by the superior genius of Daisy Bennett and her able German teacher, Elsie Marquardt. Looking about the city in the hope of locating others of my former classmates, I behold Russell Doty assuming his duties as new hydrant man for the Creamery and Valparaiso Fire Deijartment combined.

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HIGH SCHOOL ANNUAL THE SENIOR COLORS. Did you ever hear tell of the C ' olors Of the glorious class of eleven, Whose I ' ed and gray banner floats proudly, Proudly up toward the stars in the heaven! The red tells of glorious victory After figliting four years in the field, VICTORY, with thirty-two credits Our diploma will now be our shield. The gray speaks of all our great knowledge. Stored up in a safe called the brain To have and to hold until needed When a day comes with plenty of rain. We are proud, sir, indeed, of our colors, Dull gray and a fiery red. We will stand bv tliem tliru thick and tliin, And revere them until we are dead. LAURA KING. A rainy day.

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HIGH SCHOOL ANNUAL On a liill boai-d oiii)u.site 1 see in tlamiug red letters the advertise- ment of Martha Nuppnau ' s famous song, Tell me, tell me, Someone please. Is Wanatah a village Or only a disease. But what is that object, farther down the street, which is the center of attraction for a bevy of beautiful creatures? Ah, now I recognize Cupid ' s understudy, William Strahi! The gay group moves on in the direction of a pretty, new, modern home presided over by one who moves in a mysterious way, her wonders to perform. The name on the door is indistinct, but the face at the window once belonged to ISTellie Shinabarger. Looking into another part of the city I see Kenneth Wolf walking slowly with the aid of a cane. The wise men on the railing at the corner are explaining how his brain dried up on account of the heat of his search after the higher knowledge, so that now it rattles when he shakes his head to a (luestion. Over in the new city park I see Jennie Brown wielding the baton while her orchestra assists in the dedication of the new nuisic pavilion. The excursionists arriving via interurban are disjilaying the latest edition of the Prattsville Times, a famous newspaper edited by Laura King. Conspicuous among the locals is the name of ] rariola Cornell. The item states that she is at her country home still trying to figure out Why the hen crossed the road. As I gaze beyond our own native county, I see ] Iildi ' ed Htoner entering her millinery establishment in Gary. A little further on in the vicinity of the Chicago University is Grace Mains, a very sad looking individual, who when asked what she was, resjionded that the state of her affairs had lieen lirought about by the too constant study of the perplexing (|uestion, How old is Adam. ' ' In the same city were posters announcing the coming of Dorothy DeWitt, expounder of the social ideas of Carrie Nation. And workijig ])atiently in the hot sunshine, I perceive Melvin Stinchfield trying to figure out the shortest route from Chicago to New York for Aubrey Dye ' s projected Air-ship Ijine. Shifting my gaze, I behold Myron Conover sedately studying at the Rockefeller Institute, trying to discover some means with which to successfully combat the fatal pip germ, while Reginald Felton, the