Albany High School - Thronateeska Yearbook (Albany, GA)

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The Thronateeska Little soft-voiced Susie, is metamorphosed quite, For woman’s equal suffrage, she argues day and night. While Lucile, once aspiring to a thrilling movie life. Has found her heart’s desire, as a country teacher’s wife. And now no longer dreaming, to your very great surprise, Greet this hustling city editor, young Mr. Marvin Pr.vse. Huge Preston wins the race as a successful business man. Just by toiling steadily to earn whate’er he can. Blanchard's mellow voice, musical as a flute. Made her a famous opera star, of beauty apd repute, While Vera’s ambition took a literary aim. And as a leading journalist, she won success and fame. In heartless fashion, Marcia, threw over a good preacher. To join the ‘High School Fac’. as domestic science teacher. And brown-eyed Nell no longer is “Moody” as of old, For she is mistress?, do you need to be told? President of a woman’s college, we find our other Nelle, Stressing the old Latin classics, which she loved so well. Mary Louise and Hattie, social belles of greatest charm, Have found heart’s ease and sweet content, in life upon the farm. Chicago Todd, a planter, in a cotton field now hoes, And seldom dreams of fashion’s fads, and city bought clothes. Deep in scientific researches, we greet Miss Annie Blate, Though what she has discovered, is not revealed by fate. Josie in Red Cross uniform, a trained nurse is she, Among the sick and weary, distributing “sweet meici.” Fair fortune smiles on Randolph, Bessie and Hazel Hall, Wealth, friends, love and happiness, they seem to have them all. Bookie Lippitt, great cartoonist, draws in his studio, His world famous series, entitled, ’Math from the schools must go.’ Dealing justice in the court house, sits dignified Judge Ball, Lawyer Clark’s pleas attending, but that is not all, Fred’s wife at home, a blue eyed, golden haired lass, Was the one love of his boyhood, and the last member of the class The genie waved his magic wand, while making a quaint bow, And muttered, “Farewell, my tale is ended now.” Oh, No!, 1 cried, “you have foretold only twenty-three, 1 pray you Wizard or Prophet, what will become of me?” Thou with the curious air and ugly face. Thou with awkward body, and lacking grace, I would some power the gift to gie ye. To see yourself as others see ye. His urn had disappeared ere I was aware, And the genie vanished into the air. —Clyde Passmore. Page Twenty-six

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The Thronateeska Entre Nous (La Classe 1920) Randolph Armstrong.—Les petits ruisseaux font les grandes rivieres. Josye Greenstone— I „ .. , . Annie Blate f On connalt ses am|s au besom. Fred Ball.—Un homme au regard tiniide. Mary Louise Brown.—Mieux vaut tard que jamais. Blanchard Cook.—Rira bien, qui rira le dernier. Landon Clark.—II n’est pile eau que l’eau qui dort. Bessie Cleveland.—A l’ceuvre on connait i’artisan. Randall Currell.—La parole a ete donnee a 1’homme pour deguiser sa pensee. Hattie Hardy.—La voir, e’est l’aimer. Hazel Hall.—Petite pluie abat grande vent. Vera McLarty.—Qui m’aime, aime mon chat. Nellie Moody.—Elle est aimee de tout le monde. Clyde Passmore.—Mieux vaut sagesse que richesse. Nappy Pinkston.—Chien qui aboie ne mord pas. Marvin Pryse.—A bon entendeur salut. Marcia Slappey.—A qui veut, rien n’est impossible. Susie Tolbert.—La parole est d’argent. le silence est d’or. Nell Walden.—Un point fait a temps en epargne cent. “Dot” White.—'Tourjours pret. Lora Wallis.—II vaut mieux lire que de pleurer. La Classe.—Chacun pour soi, et Dieu pour tous. Marcia Slappev, Hazel Hall, I,ora Wallis. Class Prophecy Out of the urn the genie rose. With turbaned head and crooked nose. Him, weak with fear and trembling 1 addressed. Wondering what words would suit him best. Eagerly questioned, to my great surprise, He scornfully gave me these replies: Thou, with thy curious air and ugly face. Thou with angular body, and lacking grace, To thee from foreign lands o’er distant seas, I come to make strange prophecies. Twelve years have sped in peace and plenty. For the members of the Class of 1920. Randall, your president, who politics did woo. Becomes a memlier of Congress in 1932. Gay gallants throng the train of bright eyed “Dot”, Many seek iher hand in vain and can forget her not. Page Twenty-five

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The Thnmateeska Senior Aspirations Annie Blate aspires always to have some fun, Vera McLarty in the class to rank A-l. Lucile desires much attention to attract, Marcia Slappey to be a seamstress on the “Fac.” Blanchard Cook longs like an opera queen to sing:, And Nellie Moody to be the first to wear a wedding: ring. Hattie Hardy resolves to keep them always guessing. And Susie Tolbert never to a fault confessing. Nellie Walden wonders how all the teachers she can please, And “Dot” White delights poor Preston to tease. Bessie Cleveland aspires to keep every single rule, Clyde Passmore to be the oracle of the school. Hazel’s ambitious to shoot goal in basket ball And Mary Louise Brown to be the cutest one of all. Lora tries always to be everybody’s friend And “yours truly” Josie to get a diploma in the end. Opportunity The hot summer day was drawing to a close. The street lamps one by one were lighted: the squalid little shops began to prepare for their evening trade; a hurdy-gurdy’s weary wheezing mingled with the jabber of the crowd, which rose, in a dozen tongues between the close windings of the narrow street. The heat rose in sickening waves from the filthy pavement. And through the maze of carts at the curb Meta Levin pushed her tray of cheap laces and trinkets. It had been a hard day and she felt tired and worn. She had sold little and the cobble stones were as hot coals to her poorly shod old feet. But she had stood there all day silently offering her wares to the passers-by, and none of them had noticed or cared how ill she looked or how desperately she needed the money. But she did not- mind, she told herself, for she must be brave for her Sam’s sake. Onward she stumbled, pushing her cart before her. She was late tonight and must hurry. Sam would be at home before her. She always liked to be there when he came, for her Sam was a fine boy. Some day he would be a great man. She must hurry! Through one closely-packed, evil smelling street after another she pushed her way. At last she entered the doorway of her owm dingy court, deposited the cart in the basement and began the exhausting climb to her little rooms. For eight years now she had climbed these stairs after her day in the streets. Here she had found refuge for herself and her little boy when' her husband had been held at the Island. They had said that he Was an undesirable alien, a consumptive, and had sent him back to Russia. She had hoped he w ould soon be well enough to join her and their son, but she never heard of him again. She recalled with a shudder the dull pain of Page Twenty-seven