Auburn High School - Trojan / Oracle Yearbook (Auburn, IL)

Page 19 text:

History of Senior Class '20 Twas the year of nineteen sixteen We as Freshies first were seen, Forty-three in number were we,— But now you see we are only fifteen. We started out blithe and merry, As we marched to the tune of “Jerry.” We went to the tent, two rooms in addition; Kids out of town all paid their tuition, That they might join our jolly bunch, They even had to bring their lunch. Commercial rooms were at the hall, Masonic, I believe is what t’is called. If one of our loving teachers stepped out lie told us to study and never to pout— Instead of doing the honorable thing, Papers and erasers we would sling. Oh yes, our principal's name, by Jing! I forgot, it was Jerry Borgerding. He always gave us Freshies our rates— Told us to never stay out late, And if we should by chance do this, A lesson or two next day we’d miss. Zeros in the day-book repeatedly came, Discouraged were we—almost insane, We sat in that tent till November twenty-three With frogs in our throats, icic'es on our feet. Thanksgiving blessings fell on us too, For at that time we got to move Into our new mansion, which we thought great Now this a lot of excitement did create. We celebrated cur school dedication, And spread small pox all over the nation. Now this was something very rare, And caused a big to-do and scare. Ira had it, almost died, I really meant he very near cried To have to miss his precious classes, For to read his grades lie needed glasses. Miss Bristol was our class advisor, We couldn’t have had a wiser. Our president’s name it was Sloan, 15

Page 18 text:

Senior Poem There’s a dear old dag: a flying, To which we all are true; We’ll cheer her till we’re dying— It's the White and Navy Blue. There’s a dear old flag a waving Under the dark blue sky; It stands for the things we are learning— Things that are mighty and high. There’s a dear old flag a floating Before us as we go, Guiding to those things we’re hoping To reach at yonder life’s goal. There’s a dear old flag that is hoisted Over our A. T. II. S., And many’s the victory she’s boasted From the teams that are the best. There’s a dear old flag which is loved; A flag to which we all are true. Listen! be ready for the call Of the White and the Navy Blue. —M. Hamilton, ’20. 14

Page 20 text:

He had red hair upon his dome. Every two weeks we had a class meeting, You bet we didn’t forget the eating. In our Sophomore year we took our part In making love and winning hearts. We were still the largest class in school, All told we were forty minus two. We greeted Clyde upon the scene In nineteen hundred and seventeen. This year the Senior class with us Sophomores, (lave a Hallowe’en Party with eats galore. Our Junior year we started out bad, In our class, seventeen was all we had. Twas then we received Kirby with his quiet demeanor. Also, little Maude. Have you not seen her? We gave “The Adventures of Grandpa” as our class play, It was scrumdiforus they all say. In April we had a weiner roast, ’Twas hard to tell who ate the most. We had it at our Kirby’s you know. Of ice cream and cake they sure made some show. In Senior year we studied some. Irene and Mary, Maye and Tom, into our ranks did come. Louise? She got too wise For a place of this size. There’s Carl and Ralph, and John and Mervin, They’re not with us no more than nothin’, We’ve had to work hard for the Oracle this year, You should buy one if you live far or near. Now we are going to graduate. We are sad, yet again we are glad. We’ll always be true to the A. T. II. S., And hold it in memory above all the rest. So on this fleeting moment, to you, We Seniors, bid our fair adieu. —Alda Fraley. 16