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

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John Murphy and Esther Morrison at last, tho' Esther had grown very, very thin, and on the contrary John was very, very fat. Next I found myself trying to work my way through a large crowd on ilu corner of a street in Pomona, California, when a man came rushing through the crowd, turned the corner, and as he did so he tripped me and T sat down in a basket of ripe peaches that were sitting under a canopy. Coming to me he said, “I beg your pardon, I didn’t mean to do it.” I was staring into tho face cf Terry Lindner. It was quite a joke, but it was rather hard to take it that way, with peach stains all over my dress. “What makes you so excited?” I asked, “You didn’t act that way when you were in High School.” “I am elected as governor of Nebraska,” he answered with a dignified air. As if from habit he reached into his pocket and said, “Have a cigar!” Finally he came down to earth again when we began discuss’ng the fate of our different classmates. He told me that, on his way to California, he found Tom Irwin teaching harmony and composition in one of the largest and best con- servatories in Denver. Then a political meeting calling Mr. Lindner, and my train to Arizona calling me, we rushed off as madly as we had met. I was exactly half way to Arizona, when the train stopped to wait for some men to repair a bridge which was considered unsafe. I decided to visit one of the ranches close by. Here was a reminder of the real west. Cattle and cowboys galore! Then several of the dusty riders came toward us. I felt a strange apprehension and became weak kneed and then truly frightened. What was it? Closer, they came and closer—I closed my eyes. Then hearing some one speaking, I opened my eyes and stared into one of the most impos:ng and stern of faces. Then the expression changed and thru’ the bristly, black mustache, under the large cowboy hat, came the voice of Sinclair Orr, just the same as In was in High School except for appearance. Laughing heartily, “Babe”’ told me that Arthur Ingels was just nexl door, that is, on the next ranch, enjoying the same wild free life of a cow- boy too. It was about the middle of July when I reached the state of Kansa ■. I stopped at a small town and attended a chautauqua that was going on there. The first part of the programme was musical, consisting of piano and violin soles and also a few vocal selections. Next the director announced that there would be a lecture on “Spiritualism”, by one of the most noted men of the state, Prof. K. K. Knox. I was startled at his speech, when that same, “red- headed” Kirby Knox stepped on the stage. I was so thoroughly surprised at Kirby’s vocation I could hardly listen to the lecture. After it was over I found him trying to work his way through the crowd to catch the next train. He recognized me immediately and asked, “What has become of the rest of the class?” The only one 1 have seen is, Howard Williams, and he advertises himself as the “Champion Heavy Weight Boxer, of Kansas City, Kansas.” We had no more time for conversation and thus parted for our fixed destina- tions. Before leaving Kansas City, I visited an aunt that lived in the country about four miles south of the city. She, being an old maid, told me that there was a very bewitching school teacher that taught the school in the neighbor- hood ?n which she lived. The next day she took me with her to visit the school. It was a quaint looking little school house with vines growing over it. Before entering the building I kept wondering what that school teacher looked like. We went to the door and knocked. The door opened, and who should be that bewitching teacher, but Raymond Ilatcher, himself. Il was too funny to see Raymond going over and over the alphabet with the little folks very, very patiently. 25 —4

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On my way through the business part of that c’tv I found a sign reading: “Williams Auto Sales Co. Conducted by 11 is Wife.” “Well,” I thought, “that certainly is a brazen statement, I wonder who had the nerve to exhibit such a sign?” when out of the door tripped a dippy little lady, with bobbed hair and wearing shell-rimmed glasses. I immediately recognized my old friend Clara Canhain. She laughed as she said, “How do you like my new sign?” I reached for my smelling salts and grabbed a telephone post for support. Star- ing at her with dim. unseeing eyes, I thought, “How Clara had changed.” What possessed her to be conducting such a business. She told me that, after several years of repeated attempts to become reconciled to love’s decree, she and Harold decided to enter the holy bonds of wedlock. “Harold is over on the other side of the street manufacturing Fords, wh’le I have my garage on this side of the street and sell them. He guarantees the wind: hiclds unbreakable too.” It was just exactly three weeks later that I went to a movie in the city of Lexington, Mississippi. I gave the ticket agent the money for my ticket and he said. “Keep your money, I like to do favors for old classmates of mine.” I stood gaz:ng at him for a long time wondering, “Who could it be?” when I at last recognized Henry Parrish. lie laughed as he said, “I think you will find the show very, very interesting.” I waited eagerly for the picture to begin because I could not learn any- thing more from the obstinate Henry. First came the director’s name—the cameraman’s and all the flourishes. Then came the cast of characters. Play- ing the lead were Fifi Ponseti and Jack Spratt. Still I was in the dark. In a few minutes came some wonderful closeups that made me gasp and stare alternately. But in spite of disguise, in names and make-ups, I recognized Erma Moore and Bill Murnhy. Then I remembered that they were playing in, “The Pursuer and The Pursued”. “Ain’t it the truth,” I heard somebody beside me say; and taking mv eyes away from the screen 1 looked right into the surprised face of Arthur Stout. “What is it, dear?” asked a slivery voice on the other side and there sat Bernice Allen, only it wasn’t “Allen” any more. We couldn’t talk very much for our attention was riveted on the scene before us. It was natural—almost tearful. It made me feel ten years vounger and dream that we were still hi High School. Mrs. Stout remarked that Jack Spratt had a wonderful constitution, being able to survive on the same diet for so many years. Arthur shock his head forebodingly. “Time will tell, time will tell,” he repeated sagely. Before leaving Mississippi, I took a motor trip through that state. I found Russel Snyder keeping a green house. As I stood talking to Russel for some time, a Ford truck came crashing through an a'lev and stopped suddenly side of us. A woman wildly disheveled leaped out, threw a package at Russell, and said, as she rushed madly into the house, “There’s your old plants, take them, and don’t ever ask me to go after them any more, I have only bad three blowouts!” Recognizing Marie Comerford, I fell faint against the green house—and stood staring until she reappeared on the door step and came running to me crying.” Well of all things. I didn’t know it was you.” On my way through Oklahoma. I stopned at a small town 'n the Wichila Mountains. It was a romantic looking little town with beautiful little cot- tages built in it. As I strolled leisurely through the different streets T passed a little cottage that caught my eye at a glance. A m°n and woman were strol- ling along the side of the house picking Mowers. Thev turned and walked towards the street. They looked at me—stopped, stepped back and said aston-. ished, “Well, just look who is here, where did you come from?” I recognized' 24

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It was about the first of September when I reached Illinois. As I crossed the state the only city I stopped at was Jacksonville. During my short stay there I visited the High School and the Woman’s College. I knew some of the girls that attended the school and while talking to them, one of them said, “You simply must come to meet our Professor, he is simply wonderful!” They took me in—and—that wonderful Professor was, Hayward Bigler. After finally discovering who I was he said laughing, “Are you surprised at my new occupation ?” As I came through Auburn 1 thought 1 would stop and see what the city looked like once more. Things had not changed much except for a few addi- tions to the school building. I went over to the school for a while and who should be the principal but Clifford Ping. I had been thoroughly surprised all the way through but not as 1 was when I found Clifford sitting in the office superintending A. T. II. S. That night 1 sat at the window in my room at home for the first time since June, 1922. I dreamed my trip all over again—witnessing many new scenes and finding so many of my old classmates. I looked out the window, it was dark. How long I had sat there I did not know. The stars had come out and in the distance the moon was just peeping above the horizon. And sitting there in the still, cool atmosphere I felt as Jray in his “Elegy”: “The curfew tolls the knell cf part’ng day, The lowing herd winds slowly o’er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness, and to me.” NOME MULCAHY.