Arlington High School - Excelsior Yearbook (Arlington, OH)

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Page Eiqhfeen CLASS POEM Graduation day, glorious day! VVe leave but to begin A new leaf in the hook of life, To read as we rnn again. VVe leave Arlington High hehind, Our play, our work, our friends, To weave dreams anew in fields W'here achievement never ends. l3ut,each of us is leaving with Head high and a courageous heart, For we know our Class has given us Li fe's richer, fuller start. lt is not with joy and not with sorrow That we leave our school today, lint with hopeful contemplation VVe take our separate way.

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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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lfclitoi'-in-Chief. , . I-hisim-ss Mziiizigeis . Circulation Mzinzlgcrs. . . I,i1c1'zx1'y lfrlitrn' ..... .Xrt lfmlitors ..... Mako-up Ifclitors. . . Sports lfditors .... Faculty .Xclvisorsi Business, Mr. .ill Shiclaker. NORWESTER STAFF . ......... Kzltlicriiic Vfcning . . . . .john llarmfm, Carl .XSCi1il1QL'l' ...Mzirtlizi Nclifniicy, Vzuil Millikin . .......... ....... . ... ........... ....-lulia Ilumlin .,..Xmie Scott, Sum llcvinc, l.uciIlc Cox, Mmccline Miller .... . . . . .. .... . . . . . . .blanc Si12lWZliiCl', hlzmc Nlylaiiclci' . . . . Ifcl Yzmtcs. Klurjoric KL-iiiiwly ckscm' Art, Miss Iicclnizm' I-itcrzii'x', Miss Lmw' :mil Miss Y 7 , F9 Page Nineieen