Binghamton Central High School - Panorama Yearbook (Binghamton, NY)

Page 25 text:

it upnwfnz I i..hP '?1fnti iff. President ..., 5,,mary .... T,,,,,,mr uma! Treasurer Wi it V? as lngm taps lluuald dreary an lurk li 304325 Schuh fx: is SP5 V'-W WWI ,, Thumb! lil' Ervin WW, an f- M mv it ww n 'Wd rv- ffl' f-I W' , ll' l ,i . ii F 2 I Q lr r 4 it I 9 L l i L i 5 i I S E F i F li F 1. if i i E l' ,. s ir E. if F 5 it 5 5. 5 5 E 9 5. I it li i i it lf it Q. 5 s 5 .l i Elizabeth Hennessey Nellie Hennessey Hattie Hinsdale john Jacobs Margaret johnson Mabel Lewis Teresa Lewis Lottie Maghran Helen McNamara Weller Rose Louise Rowe Howard Shaw Lillian Shultz Daisy Simonds Agnes Smith Grace Smith Frank Snyder Emmerque Stone Roscoe Meaker Nina Monroe Elizabeth Moon Aclah Mosher V . - ' Lida North Raymond Noteware Lillian Parker Q john C. Phelps Archie Pike Sarah Place Harriet Quinlan I Josephine Reardon Robert Stone Helen Stratton Herbert Tillapaugh Jennie Tuckley Grace VanWormer Ira Vortigeir Mason Wadsworth Elsie Wagner Addilyn Walker Bessie Walker Helen Washburne Vira Wheeler Edith Root Margaret Whittemore Edith Rockwell Helen Wilson i AySummer Idyl. The school room is hushed, not a breath stirs the curtain strings as they hang lazily pendant before the wide open windowsg the sun from a cloud- less sky sends down its lustrous beams, flooding the room with its golden radiance. At length a tiny cloud appears on the far off horizon, and a gentle breeze steals softly through the windows and swings slowly the cur- tain strings and as it grows in strength, a soothing murmur like gentle Summer breezes sighing through the pines, comes from the West side of the study room. And ever as the wind increases the murmur swells until the room is filled with the lovely sound. We cease to, study and listen spell- bound to the beauteous harmonies, From whence this melodious strain? Is it the gentle Zephyr touching with her delicate fingers the golden strings of some sweet voiced Arolian Aarp? Is it some minstrel fairy drawing the fender melodies from his silvery lute?-No, dear reader, it isn't. It's noth- mg but the West wind rustling through Rose's whiskers.