Butler High School - Tropaeum Yearbook (Butler, IN)

Page 30 text:

BUTLER HIGH SCHOOL, 1912. 28 SOPHOMORE CLASS STAFF Mildred Tomlinson - President Helen Kester - Sec’y and Treas. Ruth Chambers - - Editor MOTTO Esse quam videre. COLORS Black and Old Gold. FLOWER Daffodil. YELL Whiz-rah-rip! Fiz-rah-zip! We’re the class with minds so keen The glorious class of old four- teen. Wheel! CLASS HISTORY In the beginning of the 419th year after the discovery of America and 16,741,190 days after the erection of the Great Pyramid by Khufu, we, the class of old ’14 entered the assembly room of the Butler High School. With feelings of pride and self-possession we were enrolled as “Fresh- ies.” We numbered thirty-six but on the following day our number mysteriously decreased to thirty-two and only eighteen remained to carry the title of Freshmen to the end of the year. At last the uneventful year was over and we were Sophomores. We had an entirely new faculty this year, with the addition of a new •music and art teacher. Bookkeeping was discarded much to the dis- gust of the boys, who with reluctant minds went back to Latin The first class gaiety was a raid on the Freshmen, who rewarded us with a generous supply of water. Several other social “stunts” en- livened the routine of the year. The despairing cry of the “Sophies” this year has been “Ashes to ashes Dust to dust If Latin don’t kill us Geometry must.”

Page 29 text:

27 BUTLER HIGH SCHOOL, 1912. Toasts to the Juniors. Here’s to the Juniors so jolly and merry For study and lessons they never tarry, Their object this year is to have a good time Yet study sometimes just to keep up in line, They’re a lively good bunch and really quite jolly And we hope by next year they’ll forget all their folly. Here’s to our bright, handsome, gay Junior boys, Of all boys in High School they give us most joys, Now boys this is leap year you had better watch us Or we’ll be pursuing while you beat the dust. By a Senior Maiden. Oh! here’s to our sweet, bashful, coy, Junior girls, Their eyes shine like sapphires, their teeth like pearls, Their blushing so sweetly would shame a June rose, They’re the fairest in High School that any one knows. By a Senior Boy. Thirteen is often considered unlucky But for a class unusally plucky, The year thirteen will bring the very best We’re sure can be found at fortunes behest. Here’s luck to the Juniors. Hero o „„ the Juniors who are always so jolly They’re always found in some kind of folly, When they are Seniors they’ll all settle down And their august looks be the talk of the town, Juniors we’re glad to have known you, We look for renown from the gold and the blue.

Page 31 text:

BUTLER HIGH SCHOOL, 1912. 29 Come, all ye people, if you want to hear ’Bout the famous Sophies in High this year. There is Melvin Smurr with his ambling walk, And Gladys A. with her mincing talk, There’s sweet Ruth Smith, who is brightest by far, And Helen Kester, our musical star, And Ruth Chambers, who’s fond of Senior boys, And Neal Shaw—famous for lots of noise. If you want to argue when things go wrong Our “arbitrary” student is named George Strong. Mildred T. is our class president, As for dignity—oh, she’s never unbent! Then there’s Delbert Bryant “noted some” For Geometry “stunts” and chewing gum. I’m sure Wayland Mutzfeld won’t be vexed When I tell you he’s fond of the other sex. And we’ve Mary Baker who shows great tact In assisting dentists in the “pulling act.” And Roscoe Capp who is true and tried, And Carrie, who couldn’t marry Harry if he tried. There—count us up, we are just fifteen And a happier bunch you’ve never seen. We never worry, just peg along, On our lips a grin, in our hearts a song; For there’s pleasure, you see, in just the knowing That we’ll soon be Seniors if we keep on going, And that never more can they “dub” us “green” Come now, here’s to us, class of ’14.