Beaver Falls High School - Tiger Yearbook (Beaver Falls, PA)

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When I think of the pleasant times we have enjoyed together; of triumphs and defeats; of our mutual joys and sorrows; it is with a deep feeling of sadness that 1 address you for the last time as President of the class. But before we go further, it might be well for us to consider the value of that which we have acquired in our course. Is it of any value to you? Is it of any value to those with whom you daily associate? Is it cf any value to the world in general? Classmates after today we meet as individuals. We turn over a new leaf in the book of life. We begin a new chapter. Always keep in mind that the end or aim of education is not to enable us to make a scant living, but what is vastly of more importance, education is to enable us to make a life. In reply to this some may say education does not make lives; citing Lincoln and Carnegie. The question arises how much greater would these men have heen, if they had received only a High School education? On the other hand, some may cite men who have made complete failures in college. Those who have gone through and thrust themselves on the public as parasites. Comrades, such men would never have succeeded in anything. In our own.commumties we have examples of two classes of people. The educated and uneducated. The comparison is very plain. It can be read on their faces, their manners and their actions. To go further would be unnecessary for every one knows that a High School education is valuable. It would not be wise for me to advise or instruct, these, the companions of my school days. We should take a lesson from . small shell fish having this peculiarity; that each year it builds a new room 10 :,s house. As it outgrows its last year's apartment, it moves into a 1? rger 1 more commodious room. This habit has been moved into a beantifi.’ ntitled, The Chambered Nautilus.” “Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul. As the swift seasons roll! Leave thy low-vaulted past! Let each new temple, nobler than the last. Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast. Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life’s unresting sea ! 28

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President’s Address Class of Nineteen Hundred and Fifteen Heaver Falls High School BY EDWARD KEER Honorable School Board, Faculty, patrons and friends of education and students of Beaver Falls High School we cordially welcome you to the exercises in connection with the graduation of the class of 1915 of Beaver Falls High School. The class of 1915 meeting for the last time as a class wish to express their gratitude and sincere appreciation to those who have so kindly assisted 11s in our endeavor to secure an education. First to the members of the Board, who have furnished such excellent facilities for the use of those who wish to develop both their intellectual and physical powers. They have spared neither time nor expense to provide the necessary equipment. Working as they do without com-pensatiion, criticised if the school is not successful, striving to keep taxes down and at the same time provide the best, in buildings, teachers, apparatus, and text-books. Surely these men will receive their reward. We sincerely welcome you here tonight and hope that your interest in 11s will continue in the future as it has in the past. Our Faculty: How shall we ever express the deep debt of gratitude due them for their tireless efforts. We can only wonder at the patience and the wisdom that endured and solved the problems. When we look back through the four long years of High School life, in which we have been so closely associated, we think of your unfailing kindness and the warm friendship existing between 11s. Words do not express our thanks yet we feel that we must show our gratitude for your guidance, and so tonight as we stand before you we look as it were through the vistas of the forests, and catch a glimpse of the great ocean of knowledge, whose shores are boundless: whose depths are unsounded, and where the best we can hope for is to be able to pick up a few shells of knowledge on the shore. Inasmuch as it is worth a lifetime of effort, just to catch a glimpse of this grandeur, we thank you. May the warm friendship existing between the class of 1915 and the Faculty continue through all time. To the patrons and friends of education who have furnished the ‘“Sinews of War,” whose money has paid for these commodious build ■ ings, comfortable furnishings, fine apparatus: and paid for the splendid corps of teachers, we extend out warmest thanks and a hearty welcome. And I now take this opportunity to thank you, my classmates, for vour loyal support: to thank you for the generous courtesy and unfailing kindness with which yoithave overlooked my mistakes. 27

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“Finis Coronat Opus” Commencement Story by Mary Shaffer. Ho-o-o The call echoed wildly, wierdly down the valley until at last it died away in a faint whisper. And then again I heard it, “Ho-o-o, this time more wild, more wierd than before. For eighteen months our lumber camp had been situated on the highest ridge of the foothills in Pennsylvania. For eighteen months we had seen no faces, heard no voices other than those of our lumbermen,— and now—out of the recesses of the forest, I hear a call, the high piercing i a'l of a woman. Puzzled over the mystery 1 determined to find the cause of the w oman’s solitude, the reason for such a call in such a desolate region. Descending the mountain, I crossed the valley and ascended the opposite hill, guided by the calls, now louder and anon so low that they seemed but the faintest echoes. The illusive receding notes led me over difficult by-ways and rugged paths until 1 emerged at last into a small clearing in the midst of which was a tiny one-room cottage. “Ho-o-o.” This time .he call was clear and 1 was startled beyond all reason. Curioir v and half fearfully 1 looked about me. In the shadows with which ie desk decked the forest I could but dimly discern the outline of a woman's figure. Slight and girlish in form, her unconscious grace of ]X)se suggested a noble nature. She was standing in an opening of the clearing, her face turned toward the last red beams of the setting sun, and in the dull light of those laggard rays I observed the delicate features display a wealth of sadness. Never moving a muscle, she kept up the wierd call, now high, now low. What could it mean? Loth to intrude myself on sorrow I was about to slip quietly away, when my attention was arrested by the approach of a second woman. The same features, touched with a similar sadness, though softened by age, left no doubt as to the identity of the newcomer. Gently she sjxake to the girl and was answered in an undertone. But 1 could with ease hear the mother reply. “Well, daughter, sometime, I hope he will return. Unwillingly 1 heard the girj sob in a petulant manner, “O, tell me the story again.” 29