Butler High School - Magnet Yearbook (Butler, PA)

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28 THE SENIOR MAGNET “ ’Tis glorious sport,” one fellow cried, As a great big rabbit he espied, Then by the sharp report of his gun They knew he'd bagged another one. At last they rested for just a minute When one of them shouted, “I’ve got my limit.” “Let’s eat our lunch,” said- the fortunate one, “For that’s the best part of the fun.” Now homeward bound they lag along, Humming some old familiar song, Each one burdened with game enough To make you think they were no bluff. FOR A’ THAT AND A’ THAT With Apologies to Robert Burns MARY DOERR Is there for honest education That hangs his head and a’ that? The slacker part—we passed them by, We dared push on for a’ that, For a’ that and a’ that, Our start’s obscure and a’ that; Our class is just a very small part That’s left these halls for a’ that. What though we studied long and hard, Some did their best and a’ that, While others yet did lag behind, We’re boys and girls for a’ that For a’ that and a’ that, Our class-night show, and a’ that Is just to prove we’re Freshmen yet Called Seniors now, for a’ that. You see yon lassie and that lad? They got the spoils and a’ that; They pushed ahead at the very start; There’s others though, for a’ that, For a’ that and a’ that, George played the game, and a’ that, But Grace is valedictorian; There’s no higher rank for a’ that. Their price is far above the rubies; They can’t be bought by powerful princes, The pleasant mem’ries of these years Are ours to keep for a’ that, For a’ that and a’ that, They are yours, too, for a’ that, Oh, Freshmen, Sophomores, and Juniors, all, You’ll love them too, for a’ that. Oh, let us hope that as we go, As go we will, for a’ that, Each in his individual way, Onward and upward and a’ that, For a’ that and a’ that, It’s coming yet for a’ that, When each will see the other succeed, And urge him on, for a’ that. “THE FLU” INEZ DUGAN Well, I got the influenza, Say it is the darnedest stuff, Makes you feel so weak and wobbly No, I’m not a’pullin’ a bluff. First you get so awful dizzy, Then your back—how it does ache, Soon your head starts in a’thumpin’, You jus’ know it’s gonna break. You gets to feelin’ sicker and sicker, Like you’d eat sauer-kraut and cheese, You start wonderin’ whas’sa matter, When holy gee! how you do sneeze!! You call in your family doctor, Then you wait a day or so, He comes at last with medicine, That down your throat won’t go. He sends you to bed a’skitin’, “Stay there, that’s best to do,” Says he, “Your pulse is a’flightin’, Well, I guess you’ve got the flu.” You live on broth and medicine, Your head’s hot—and cold your feet, You keep gettin’ sicker and thinkin’ Saint Peter maybe you’ll meet.

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THE SENIOR MAGNET 27 OUR ALMA MATER INEZ DOUGAN “Farewell,” “farewell- but this I tell To thee, dear Butler High, We’ve studied hard—attained our goal, And now must say “good-bye.” We’ve studied hard—we've racked our brains, We've burned the “midnight oil.” The time draws near when we shall be Rewarded for our toil. These four years have been happy ones, And parting brings a tear, We’ll ne’er forget in days to come, Our Alma Mater dear. OUR BOYS RIIEA SHAFFER When Uncle Sam entered the Prussian game Full of pep and vim, The Allies cheered and the Kaiser sneered, “I’m not afraid of him.” And now our boys have sailed to France Through the waves of the ocean blue; They're going to “finish Kaiser Bill And capture Berlin, too. There’s a mighty host of them over there” Fighting with all their might; They’ve got the Huns on the run right now And they’ll soon have them out of sight. Many of than have fallen now In the din of the battle's roar But they’ll show Kaiser Bill he can’t have sway In Europe any more. Our boys are fighting for truth and right Across the ocean foam And Oh! how proud we’ll be of them When they come sailing home. THE HUNTERS ORVII.EE bricker Upon a beautiful autumn day, Two frolicsome hunters were on their way, They said, “We must hurry a bit and strive To show the fellows we’re still alive. Far from home in the heart of the wood, Tramping the brush heaps as fast as they could, Whistling and talking as they went, Each mind was on its errand bent.

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THE SENIOR MAGNET 29 Now let my advice be final That whatever else you do, Wear a gas mask, eat lots of onions, Otherwise yoirll get the “flu.” MY SCHOOL DAYS IRMA HANSEN We used to laugh when we heard them say, That going to school was just mere play, But say! I’m glad that I’m 'most through, And won't have many more sums to do. And as for Chemistry—such a pest, 1 have to study to do my best, Such messing around with acids and bases I’m 'most afraid we’ll disfigure our faces. And as for Vergil—I wish he’d died Before he wrote such awful lies, Such tales of heroes brave and bold. Enough to make your blood run cold. I never did like Geometry Or understood Physiology And as for History—it wasn’t bad, I liked it best of all I had. Well, I guess I've complained almost enough, About English, French and the rest of the stuff, But in spite all, this much I say. That School Days are our happiest days. THE KAISER’S DREAM “mac” Ex-Kaiser Bill once had a dream, —And that dream, it made him beam— That all land in geography Belonged entire to Germany. He saw his mighty hosts advance, Along the lovely fields of France, His sailors, too, though very drunk, The mighty Beets of England sunk. Then Bill awoke with a sudden start, For Uncle Sam was taking part, He crushed Bill’s army like a shell. Then Bill arose and went to—Holland. OUR STIFF COLLARS With Apologies to Writer of “The Old Oaken Bucket” INEZ DOUG AN How dear to our hearts are our high cold-starched collars, Which Style says we must, positively must wear, We wear them for funerals, weddings and such like, But thanks be to goodness, such times are quite rare. CHORUS Our dear stiff starched collars. Oh! how they do choke us, We wriggle and twist— But it seems all in vain. We pull them, we twist them, We bless them, we curse them, We ccax them and drive them— They pinch just the same. How glad we will be when Commencement is over, We can cast them aside then forever and aye, We’ll hunt our old soft ones and quickly replace them. And hope we won’t wear them for many a day. (This song is dedicated to the boys of our class who so nobly suffered the agony of wearing stiff collars during Commencement Week.)