West Chester High School - Garnet and White Yearbook (West Chester, PA)

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The Garnet and White A A A 3 Thoughts at Graduation Time Comrades, pour the wine tonight, For the parting is with dawn. INSTEAD of going forth to battle we are going forth into a new world—one in which we shall no longer have the protection of our beloved Alma Mater. I often wonder how we are going to conduct ourselves at the dawn of our new life. Shall we remember the lessons that have been taught us or shall we allow them to fall into oblivion? Shall we climb to the top of the ladder of success, or shall we fall by the wayside and be trampled upon by those eager to forge ahead? These are questions that only time can answer. Each of us will choose a different path of life, but whether our choice is wise or unwise, if we strive to do our best we can climb to the top of our particular ladder. Some of us will attain fame and world renown; some will attain success but not fame; some will fall and never rise; some will fall and rise to greater heights. It is not whether the public thinks we are successful, but whether our own souls think we are. Our own conscience is our severest critic—one whose advice it is always wise to follow. Not all of us can become successful. Not all can attain fame. Nature has many ways of sidetracking us from our original paths. She puts many obstacles and temptations in our way. The important question, therefore, is: Have we enough perseverance and strength to surmount these obstacles and follow the straight path? We cannot alter Nature, but we can model her course if we wish to. We have been taught many valuable lessons to help us keep to the straight path if we only take heed of them. We owe our Alma Mater a debt that can never be repaid; yet we can help her by preserving her name through our deeds, words, and thoughts. Are we going to drag that name in the dust, or are we going to emblazon it on our banner and raise it on high for all the world to see? She is indeed worthy of any honor we can pay her. And now we must say farewell to our Alma Mater who has long had us under her protecting wing. Sadly we think of the days when we shall no longer have that fostering care; but gladly do we turn our faces to the future, serene and confident in the knowledge that we have been well-prepared to face and cope with whatever may lie before us. Let us: Give to the world the best we have, And the best will come back to us. Thelma G. Keener, ’32. FAREWELL Farewell to thee! W hose everlasting love hath harbored us for years— Whose walls have sheltered all our hopes and fears. Nor ever hath betrayed our trust in thee. We leave thee now. Our hearts and minds instilled with love and honor. We pray God bless the treasured mo- ments spent with thee, Nor ever let the march of time erase thee from our memory. Farewell! Frances Mathews, ’32.

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aaa The Garnet and White Alma Mater You lit the candles of theseJSenior minds When first they came within your halls of fame. You showed the many benefits to seek; You taught us all that life is just a game. You yielded all the treasures of a friend When first we asked you for a helping hand. Advice you gave, and golden will it prove: “Just plant your footprints in substantial sand.” Oh, Alma Mater dear, those lessons taught Will stay as precepts in the shoals of time; The friends you made, the fun that we all had Will ever linger in memories sublime. When we begin our manv-pathed lives. Adventures that we face will all be new. Then, Alma Mater dear, with jubilant hearts We’ll drink an everlasting toast to you. Dorothy La Rose, ’32. Dora Evans, ’32.

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4 A A a The Garnet and White “Houses Built Without Hands For Your Soul to Live In ” THERE is a spirit reigning today where little thought is placed on what lies behind the blank face with set smile and restless eyes. Their owner seems forever seeking something new to do, someplace new to go. Not sufficient unto himself, dreading to be left alone, he must always be in a crowd and have some new entertainment at hand to supply his ever-hungry brain, in order to stifle the pitiful cry of a starved little soul of whose nourishment he has no knowledge. The trouble is he cannot go through life keeping up the same pitch of excite- ment. He must some day relax, sometime sit alone with himself, and then he will find himself poor and barren company. He’ll have nothing within him to fall back on. What little spark of that something he once had will have died, long since neglected and forgotten. He never had time to think about books, let alone read them; to sit and day-dream was to him boring—never storing up visions and illusions of intangible things in the little crevices of his mind for future thought and consideration; he never knew what peace and comfort could be derived just from sitting still and looking at a tree, from close contact with and knowledge of Nature; he had never considered his friends as partners in the formation of a fellowship, and so they had given him nothing of themselves; nor had he ever thought or considered it necessary to supply them with comradeship and sympathy. Thus he lives through a wretched existence, and life ends in despair. What a pitiful picture! And yet there are many of us who do not realize what we lack, or, if we do, assume an air of bored indifference whenever the subject is discussed. If we should heed the words of John Ruskin, now, and build accord- ingly, we would someday be spared much suffering and misery— “Make yourself nests of pleasant thoughts, bright fancies, faithful sayings; treasure houses of precious and restful thoughts, which care cannot disturb nor poverty take away from you—houses built without hands for your soul to live in.” Frances Mathews, '32. AT A TO OUR SCHOOL Oh, school, thy rays of virtue, honor, right Have blazoned paths of purest light within our souls. Long years we worked and strove with greatest might To reach the object of each heart, the highest goal. And now, dear school, we leave with sad- dened hearts To carry on and on blest virtue’s name. Thy deeds are done, but ours—just new begun; With firm and certain step and steadfast aim We all must strive to live the lessons thou hast taught. For thee, dear school, who hast not yearned and hoped for naught. TlLLIE SHENEiMAN, ’32.