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Page 26 text:
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SENIOR CLASS PROPHECY Qlixtract from the Tri-Village Newsj ' June 15, 1955-United Press Tina UNIQUE IN PARTIES Baron Vlodivosky Simolean Von Howe, in celebration of his mar- riage to Madamoiselle Pomme de la Terre Carter, his third wife, brings forth the unique in honeymoons by chartering the steamer Norwester of the Anderson and Mason lines for a round the world cruise. His guest list is composed of that famous class of nineteen hundred thirty- three, the flower of the Middle VVest. Mr. L. D. Osborne, famous Danseur, who shook Broadway with his adagio dancing, will conduct the entertainment on the ship which is in charge of Captain Jones. It was a rainy, drizzling night in June. Long rows of wharf lights lit up 'the great hulk of the ship, snuggled close to the wooden pier. At the head of the gangplank stood the first mate, Mr. Durrant, calmly awaiting the arrival of the passengers. Shrouded in wet furs, Miss Donaldine Morgan, once a mere manicure girl who worked her way up to the management of one of New York's finest dress shops, minced up the gangplank to be greeted by the ever patronizing Mr. Spandau, second mate. Close upon her heels followed Texas Tripp, the 'hard boiled night club lady, dragging by the ear her little husband, S. L. Devine, the eminent cartoonist. Slowly the guests disappeared, trunks were pitched into yawning holes, the wharf emptied. Back in a dim corner, away from the glare of lights, a feeble old man with bent body faintly called out, Apples! Apples for a nickel! Help a starving man. His cries were so pitiful that Dr. Gillespie 'stepped over to buy an apple. Paul Millikin ! he gasped. Yes, trembled Paul, the forgotten man ! The following days were gay ones. The sun shone down on the merry guests, who were talking about old times. There was but one lacking among them, Carl Palmer. Poor boy, he died of rickets. You know he never was a very strong lad, lisped Jane Mylander, the famous actress who co-starred with Perry Clark so often. Murder! Murder! Murder! The cry resounded down the long deckways, through the large rooms. People whispered in hushed tonesg eyes rolled, sus- piciously settling on strangers. The passengers, a beehive of anxiety, centered around the nervous and startled Jane Shawaker, a stewardess. I went in to serve her meal, and there she lay, right across the couch, dead, she said. Betty Ewing! the star tennis champion! Why couldn't it have been someone else ? Stop! bellowed a large man with a hawklike face, I'll attend to this. And pray tell just who are you? sneered Captain Jones. Carl Aschinger, the 'great detectivef' he haughtily replied. Awful silence reigned. The people had confidence in the great Aschinger. I-Iarnmph!-the first thing I shall do is to find the names and occupations of some of you people. Who are you ? he said, pointing to a middle aged lady, with flaming hair. My name is Miss Pfening. I write poetry, she retorted. And who are you P he bellowed, looking sternly at a man with greying hair. I, sir, am Attorney Harmon, and this is my client, Hugh Miller, accused of swindlingf' And you! he shouted, wheeling around and pointing an accusing finger. A dignified gentleman answered, I resent being pointed out! My name is Mr. P. I. Wood and I am president of the National Rotarian Club. The eminent detective slipped across the deck and clapped his hand on a lady wearing a lorgnette and carrying a lap dog, saying, Do you know who committed this murder? Who are you and your companion? My deah Page Sixteen
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Page 25 text:
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THE SENIOR CLASS WILL Wie, the Senior Class of 1933, do solemnly declare this to be our last will and testament, and do bequeath these, our outstanding characteristics, vices and virtues, to our successors and underclassmen, this second day in June, in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and thirty-three. Carl NYOrk Palmer leaves to Cuthbert Hayhurst that well-known walk. Homer Sayers wills his dusky complexion to Roberta O'Brien. Bill Shank wills his beguiling way to Bob Bow. Bob Thomas bestows upon Bud Mattison his Herculean physique. Phil Wfood Nwheelsn his much reputed 'lsixteen cylinder jobv to Bob Cul- bertson. Thelma Cahill wills her serene countenance to jane Benbow. Elizabeth Dale Clark bestows the right of making G. A. A. announcements upon her poor, unsuspecting successor. Betty Ewing wills her Drac pin to Kay Franks. i Julia Hamlin wills Elizabeth Martin her cheery grin. Edna Lohmeyer bestows upon any unsuspecting soul her unusual nickname Q Tissie',j. Edith Morris wills her retiring way to jack Jackson. Jane Mylander wishes to leave her superb command of the English language to Bob Spangler. Katherine Pfening wills the job of editing the Annual to anyone who is willing to take it. Mary Margaret Radicke bequeaths her ever-waving locks to Rosemary Reed. Pat Schenk wills Mary Wall her ability to wield a lipstick. Mary Alice Shaffer gladly bestows upon Francis Pfening the right to taxi the whole squad home. Jane Shawaker wills her zest to Betty Clark. Mary K. Stukey wills her hearty guffaw to Arlene Seiler. Arlene Tripp bequeaths her petite stature to Ruth Yaw. Dorotha Smith leaves her orange and black sweater to future Arlington patriots. Lois Wuichet wills her ability to get by without studyingl' to Paul Lanich. Paul Millikin and Anne Scott leave their ability to blush to Alf, our janitor. Carl James Aschinger wills his sense of humor to Edmund Yantes. Grant Crane bestows upon the Junior class his golden silence. Sam Devine wills to Howard Smith his well-known bird-legs . jack Durrant leaves to Guy Cahill his intense interest in the feminine residents of Grandview. David Folkerth wills his Greek god beauty to Joe Mechem. Pat Jones bestows upon Donald Port his heartbreaking baritone . Hugh Miller wills to Paul Best his mischievous ways. Lloyd Osborne wills his crooningf FD aspirations to Jack Watsoii. George Sargent bestows his Brawny Strength on Robert Fickell. Charles Schwenker wills his awe-inspiring brilliance to Dorothy Miller. Harry Simons leaves that devastating smile to Phil Tefft. Bill Snyder bequeaths his naive manner to Bob Bottman. Robert Spandau wills his persistence to Jim Conn. John VVarfel passes on his 'fpink and white loveliness to john Forman. KCmztimmd on page 802 Page Fifteen
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Page 27 text:
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man, don't you know who I am? I am Madamoiselle Lois de Pyster VVuichet. This is my companion, Miss E. D. Morrisf, answered she. Detective Aschinger, looking in the ice box for a clue, found Lowell Buck, a stowaway. Following his nose, he came to a closed door which aroused the suspicions of his keen mind. Opening the door, he was aghast at the horrible sight. There, on the coal bin sat Lohmeyer, Schenk, and Stukey, working jig-saw puzzles. Crane and Sayers, better known as Aimless and Handy, were being supplied with an appetizing dinner by the chief chef, johnny VVarfel. Passing into the engine room the detective beheld jean Ogden and George Sargent sitting on the safety valves of the boilers. Chasing hotly after another clue, Detective Aschinger tripped over jim Tay- lor. a deck swab. and landed at the feet of Thelma Cahill and Elizabeth Clark, chorus girls from the big city. The soft tones of Simon's orchestra with Bill Shank, piccolo player, and Bob Thomas, xylophonist, aided by the wonderful crooning voice of Charles Schwen- ker, filled the dining room with romantic sweetness. In Walked the detective dis- cussing deeply with Hyp DI. Dauben, the shipls mortician, the scarcity of clues in this strange, strange murder case. Finally they sat down at one of the tables. What can I do for you, sir ?l' said Dorotha Smith, the prettiest waitress on board ship. just as the august detective was about to answer, a red faced man, wearing his hat on the back of his head, and whistling a tune, breezed over and saluted him, saying, Well old pal, hoW'sa boy? Got any headline stuff on that Ewing murder case ?-No?-well, that's too bad. If you get anything, don't forget your old friend, jack Devaneyf' Don't worry, that dub won't get a thing but bruises on the nose, rejoined Ded Duffee, a professional card shark, Say, detective, suppose you and I shutiie the dominoes a bit. We'll go into the card room. Shhhh ! said Throckmorton Aschinger, I think I see a clue. Stooping down, he crawled silently over to a little table in the corner, where a very matronly woman was sitting. Did YOU murder Betty Ewing P he whispered in her ear. Indeedl replied Ruth Knoderer, you have the wrong person. I am matron of an orphans' home. Very well, Mr. Duffee, I am tired of clues. Let us play cards, said the detective, resignedly. The combined chatter of a dozen voices greeted them from the card room. The ladies were having a bridge party. If one had wished to look in, he might have seen Margaret Brown, Bonnie Stoltz, Martha McKinney, julia Hamlin, Mary Garvin, Mildred Dillow, Mary Lou Fowler, Mary Alice Shaffer, Anne Stellhorn, Anne Turner, Mary Radicke, Evelyn Carter and Ruth llalthaser en- gaged in a most enthralling game of bridge. Well, said Mr. Duffee, since we can't play cards, suppose we stroll along the decks ? Walking along in deep study, Mr. Throckmorton Aschinger viewed the min- gled scenes. On one side were Anne Scott and Lucille Cox, members of an artists' colony g on the other, Margaret Kromer, now Mrs. Sargent. Here the face of VVayne Denbow, the champion shuffle board player of the world, there, that of David F olkerth, a retired dog catcher, caught his eyes. VVas one of these the murderer? How could it be! As he walked a little farther, he saw a man, aside from the rest, muttering to himself. Well.' said the figure, what did she want to follow me for? Doesn't she know that if I am to be a big game hunter, I can't have her tagging around after me in the jungles? Imagine my embarrassment when I meet other big game hunters. Oh well, maybe it was for the best, though Betty wasn't bad. Ahrumph, said Throckmorton, You are the murderer! Billy Snyder looked around at the detective, gave one startled scream and jumped off the boat. It need not be said that he was never seen again. Page Seventeen
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