Butler High School - Nugget Yearbook (Butler, NJ)

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History of the Class of 1923 Four years have passed! It is now 1923! It seems only a few short months ago that the Class of 1923 jumped into its little canoe of learning and paddled out of the quiet, safe stream of grammar school days into the broader, deeper channel of a high school career! And what have these fleeting four years brought? What has been their success ? At the beginning of this uncertain voyage, many of the crew were lost; some fell overboard; others, doubting their courage in time of crisis, turned back to shore. The majority however, were real, red-blooded Americans, who resolved to and did stand the test. We now find them nearing their goal. In 1919, the inexperienced recruits were looked upon with disdain by the mightier members. They were jokingly nicknamed “Freshies —then quite appropriate—but that time soon passed. Under the leadership of their skipper, Lou's Kayhart, and the guidance of the other officers, the jolly band of voyagers successfully reached the first portage. The one great achievement of this first lap of the journey was the win- ning of the silver attendance cup from the Seniors. The year passed without any unusual occurrence—the “Freshies” were merely being “broken in”, as it were. This process proved very successful, however, for the next year they took up their paddles as a group of lively, industrious Sophomores. Much is to be said of this second quarter of the journey. The girls became the proud winners of the Girls’ Interclass Championship pennant for 1921, and the boys, although they did not come out on top, showed their determination to gain the coveted pennant in 1922—and they did! The important event in the career of Sophomores was the Sophomore Dance. This affair held great significance for them, for it laid the foundation for the “great trip” to be taken in their Senior year. For the remainder of the term, the proverb “Still Waters Run Deep” might have been applied to the Sophomores. They were saying lit- tle, but were saving their pep and dignity for a future date. If you don’t believe it, read their history as Seniors! The autumn of 1921 found the crew advanced another portage in their voyage. They were now Juniors!—how significant! That meant the “Prom” and the happy anticipation of a dignified career as Seniors. This year the class was allowed to sell chocolate. The profits from this, combined with those of a Junior Masquerade and a movie show constituted quite a satisfactory sum towards the Washington trip. The Juniors made a remarkable showing in athletics and debating this year. Doris Roy and Margaret Boone were members of the successful debating team of ’22, and five of the girls of the Varsity Basketball Team were Juniors. The biggest event of the year was the “Prom” on May 19 at the V. W. C. A. The dance hall was decorated in Blue and Gold, and the dining room in Maroon and Gray. After a long summer’s nap, the band of knowledge-seekers returned to B. H. S. once more—this time as Seniors. Social activities followed each other rapidly, the Senior Party, the dance, then the Christmas entertainment. In January, a movie, “Silas Marner”, was given, and on January 10, a crowd of Seniors took a delight- ful night sleigh-ride up to Newfoundland. The climax of success was reached this year. The entire debat'ng team was com- posed of Seniors; the interclass debate between Seniors and Sophomores was a Senior victory; and all the members of the Girls’ Varsity Basketball Team were Seniors. What a record dash for the goal post! May 3-5 found the Seniors enjoying the “great trip” to Washington. On June 1, was given the Senior Play entitled “Ann” at the Colonial Theatre. The play was a success, and served as a fitting finale to the many social activities of the year. June has come once more, and with it graduation and a sad farewell to dear old Butler High. May it live forever! 21

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Senior Class Prophecy Although I had been strictly forbid- den and told, time and time again of the questionable reputation of the place, I cast aside all human precautions for a visit to the Chinese Underworld of New York. As a guide I secured an aged China- man, a withered, horrible looking thing with a face that betrayed his use of opium, and, from the way he acted, I was afraid that he had guessed that I was in trouble,—bad of course,—and was seeking rest and solitude in the blissful dreams of the opium pipe. My companion led me through dimly lighted streets, black alleys, —down— into the lowest depths of Little China. Never a word did he speak, nor a sound did his footsteps make, though occasion- ally he would stop and peer at ms strangely for a minute, then without a word, would continue in his journey. Af- ter about an hour’s walking, we entered a small Chinese temple. Leading me up to a large bronze statue of Buddah, he wheeled suddenly and fixed a gaze upon me that I have never forgotten. I tried to speak, to ask him why he stared at me,—but I couldn’t. I tried to move— I couldn’t. I felt myself sinking, sinking into oblivion. I was cold,—the light faded,—and still gazing at the death- like face of my companion, I knew no more. Awakening later, I found myself in a strange, well lighted room, hung with beautiful tapestries. The air seemed sweet and fragrant. A refreshing breeze cooled my spirits, and lying on a pile of silken pillows, 1 yielded to the greatest healer of all—sleep. While I slept, thoughts of my school days, long ago, filled my mind. I could see every one plainly, laughing and talking in exact- ly the way they did before we graduated and parted. This wonderful picture faded, only to give way to one of still more meaning. There they were, all the officers of the Senior Class, now mem- bers of the Borough legislature, with our old president, “Maxie”, as Mayor. Around him were his assistants: Margaret Tin- tie, Jennie Smith, Bessie Meade, and Gladys Ringle. I next saw “Bike” Close, who had sure gone wrong. He was ped- dling dope and drugs to the lower classes of New York. Poor “Bike”! The next picture was of Irma Flynn and the Wal- dron sisters. They were in the lunch- wagon business in several of the largest cities, including Oakland. Next came Martin Fleck, the world’s greatest tenor, together with Art Landmesser doing a “classy” vaudeville act at the Orpheum. Who was next? Why Doris Roy! There she was, high on the steeple of a church, painting a golden eagle. Ye gods—she was a steeple-jack. The next picture gave me quite a shock. Annie Mat- thews and Ruth Kimble were fashionable hair-dressers in Woolworth’s 5 and 10. Next came John Ricker and Reuben Toub, playing a very sad duet in the large auditorium at Kinnelon. This pic- ture faded, and revealed Mary Dugan and Florence Marion taking art and bal- let dancing from a well known profes- sor, Mr. William Meier. I saw Jim Lyons as one of the lecturers on the sight-see- ing busses at Washington and well ac- quainted with all of the gravestones throughout the city. Now he had some- thing to BRAG about. There was then revealed George Lawrence, in a nifty blue coat and leather leggings, speeding along on a motorcycle. Another State Trooper! Just ahead of him was Mar- garet Boone in a big blue automobile. Louis Kayhart and Nora McCormick were with her, and believe me, poor Mar- garet was scared to death and was doing her duty as quickly as she knew how. She was now a full-fledged minister, do- ing her bit in helping the Orphan asy- lums. The most famous of these was the big Fritz Asylum, run by two distin- guished society ladies, the Misses Lillian and Barbara Fritz. Miss Barbara is