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Page 8 text:
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T e TROJAN Modern Minervas S ELIZABETH HUBBARD SINCE MERELY a picture did not seem enough honor to allot to the nieritous faculty of B. H. S., it was deemed necessary to write a few words in regard to each member of the school Minervas. The overalled man in the extreme upper left corner is Mr. Rees, the vocational agriculture teacher. His domain is the hig ag room on the lower floor. Here he supervises and bosses the F. F. A.—teaching them to become the excellent stock raisers and cereal growers of the future. The smiling lady next to him is Miss Kirtland, the English supervisor. She also teaches public speaking, and controls the literary flights of the Journalism class. Almost any afternoon after school, one may be directed to her room by the continual chatter and clatter that issues forth. Miss Tinkler sought a shady spot under a tree when she saw the kodak approaching. She trains erring fingers on their paths over the typewriting keys. Many are the students who are startled out of troubled dreams at night by her voice calling “time”. In the oval is Miss Hundertmark. who teaches Latin verbs and Gallic wars to ambitious people. Also, she teaches Sophomore English. She coached the very successful Junior play. Better Than Gold. Next in line is Miss Green, the Home Economics teacher. It is she who causes the appetizing odors so rampagent in the upper hall. It is a usual, although frequently useless feat to beg at the Domestic Science door for a hand-out. The fatherly looking gentleman in the corner is Mr. lines, who has charge of the science department. He really doesn't look like that at all in class, where he causes his blameless students to mix all kinds of unspeakable concoctions in the laboratory. “P. V.” is the sponsor of the Hi-Y club. Beginning the lower row is Miss Guard. She teaches French. English and biology, and is G R. sponsor. Very soon she is going to change her name to the chiming of wedding bells. The school isn't invited to that event, however. The favored man is Mr. Carmichael, whose picture is appropriately situated just next. His special field is History and Spanish, with which he proceeds to fill the open minds of his pupils. He is also debate coach, and head of the tennis team. Miss Woolverton teaches mathematics and normal training classes in a jovial manner. It is generally admitted that mathematicians are witty and she is no exception to the rule. The handsome man next in line is Mr. Hink-hottse. He teaches manual training and every spring the common public is allowed to view the works of art made under his supervision at an exhibit. He has charge of intra-mural sports. Miss Bollman rules the big room on the northwest with a velvet glove. Here the commercial students assemble in order to learn the fine arts of commerce. Miss Brown presides over the Freshman in their struggles with Algebra and English. Next year she will have a class in art. Ike is guardian and guardsman of the athletes of B. H. S. Judgment was first passed on Ike as a coach who could make speeches in chapel Now he is acknowledged as a real guy’’ as well. Miss Miller is the director of girls' athletics. Besides her gvm classes, she teaches algebra and physiology and has charge of G. A. A. Despite her enormous size, she daily braves the dangers of flying heels, balls and fists in her rigorous tasks. Miss Carnahan is our lively little music director. What Mary can't get with her smile and twinkle just about can't be gotten. Thiss Puss-in-Boots is Margaret Annan. Clerk of the Board of Education. Among other things she supplies the demands of ingenous students for everything from newspapers to pins. Page Six May. 1032
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Page 9 text:
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n$g0 TROJAN VERSE CHARLOTTE WARD THOUGHTS ABOUT THOUGHTS Unreserved, unimagined sketches of thought. Unrestricted, unconnected;—and yet it brought To me a definite, clear-cut sensation Of the world standing still and I in rotation. Whirling up and up to dizzying heights, Coming down in a world of up-going lights. Out in far-fetched fields of the mind, Back to the center, my eyes burned blind. Some teachers falsely think they have taught Keen, calm, consequential thought. To the safety first minds of some old men Such things don’t live—even now and then, Such thoughts of mine are impossible trash And they won’t bring in one cent of cash. But say—you haven’t begun to live your life. If you haven’t a notion of thought in strife; Thoughts that tear at well-built society gates; And pass on to the blue at unimagined rates; Springing back with a fly and a tilt of the notes, To center on history, written in prose. Psychologists say that it can’t be done, That each thought relates to the following one, But I dare Psychologist, and you, if you please, To follow these tracks that I made with ease. THOUGHTS IN E. M. C.’s CLASS Pert little Miss History sailed out one day To snatch at a date that was running away. She had caught him a dozen times before Yet he slid out the window or crept out the door. She pounced on the date with vigor and vim And said to herself, “Now I’ve got him”. And try as she might to keep the elf in, He slipped out to visit the rest of his kin. She cried at the rogue and clutched thin air, Then gave a big sigh and gave up in despair. She visioned an F if she missed the date— The Spanish Armada in 1588. PENCILS A pencil wrting vigorously, studiously. Because the owner has so little time In which to get his lessons. Just a small bit of a pencil; I think it used to be yellow. It has tooth marks on it, And a bit of old eraser Which no longer erases clean. The pencil stops, rises in the air, Then goes momentarily to the owner’s mouth. After reflective moments, It is again at work Hastily scribbling important messages. Another pencil across the aisle, Writes slowly, languidly, Merely drawing the letters. It is a beautiful pencil, Tall, slim, decidedly yellow And with a large clean eraser. The pencil makes beautiful letters, too— Well-proportioned, perfectly rounded. The owner pauses, looks out the window, Smiles at a friend, and resumes writing. She writes two words— Her first name and her last name. She looks critically at them, Then rewrites them to see If they can’t be made a little more artistic. After writing them five times, She smiles in approval And continues staring out the window. As far as hygiene is concerned We prefer the last case, But otherwise I think— But what do you think? May, 1932 Page Seven
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