Butler High School - Tropaeum Yearbook (Butler, IN)

Page 27 text:

SENIOR CLASS HISTORY In the year of 1918 thirty-one exceeding wise Freshmen snuggled against the north wall of B. H. S. Assembly. At our first class meeting Leo Shumaker was elected President, Foster Pol- and, Vice President; Blanche Crabbs, Secretary and Treasurer and Miss Thomas, class teacher, e During the year we enjoyed several Domestic Science class “feeds,” a pot luck supper at the home of Ruth Capp and a farewell party for “Anti.” r The officers of our class during the Sophomore year were Elmon Vernier, President; Leo Shumaker, Vice President; Marjorie Graf, Secretary and Treas- urer, and Miss Etter, class teacher. The chief social activity during the year was the entertainment given to the other classes on George Washington’s birthday. $,■ ■ Our Junior year will be remembered by the publication of the “Fort night,” the Junior-Senior Banquet and a pot luck supper and theater party en- joyed by pupils and teachers (?). This year we entertained the other classes by a Masquerade Valentine party. The class officers during the Junior year were Elmon Vernier, President; Leo Shumaker, Vice President; Ruth Capp, Treasurer; Clark Platt, Secretary and Mr. Green class teacher. We have had few social activities during our Senior year for our interests have been confined to the publication of the annual. Our class has always been well represented in athletics and has taken an active part in such school activities as the Minstrel (II), Carnival (III IV) and the Operetta (III). The class officers this year are: Naomi Lawson ........... Dortha Aldrich.......... Ruth Eakright .......... Earl Mullett ........... Mr. Hawbaker............ .....President Vice President .....Secretary .....Treasurer .Class Teacher Ruth Capp.

Page 26 text:

CLASS OFFICERS Naomi Lawson—President Dortha Aldrich—Vice Pres. Ruth Eakright—Sec. 5arl Mullett—Treas. CLASS COLORS Old Rose and Gold. CLASS FLOWER Red Rose.

Page 28 text:

CLASS PROPHECY It was with a shock that the realization came that this might be our last meeting as we are now, “The Jolly Class of Twenty Two. In a short time we would he scattered through the numerous Walks of Life, and we were all cur- ious to know the path into which our footsteps would wander. Now I had al- ways been interested in the occult and future gazing, and believed myself rather capable of telling fortunes. So we gazed into my magic crystal, and here is what gradually cleared for our wondering and astonished gaze to look upon. “I don’t believe in that kind of thing,” Marge said, just as the first figures could be distinguished. A tall building, and yes, there it was, “Miss Jennings Private School for Girls.” “Oh, I know that place, it’s near Columbus,” Lorna interjected, “but that’s not the name of it—” “Keep quiet a minute, cantcha?” Earl muttered. Slowly the vague outlines grew brighter and bright- er, there on the ground was a group of girls our own age, talking earnest to a kind, middle aged lady. They hung on every word she uttered—yes, as the picture grew clearer and clearer, we recognized our old pal Doris. “That’s all bunk,” Sarah shrilled, and even as she spoke the picture faded, and another one took it’s place. It was luxurious beyond description, the suburban home of a wealthy man, and on the spacious lawn two children frolicked, suddenly they spy their father coming up the walk, and they run to greet him. His gait looked familiar. “Who do you suppose it is?” we whispered to on another— and “For Gosh sakes, it’s you Anthony,” I)oc laughed. And Gerald it was, now a dignified business man. At the door he was met by his charming wife, no other than Dortha Aldrich, our old classmate. “A-w-w-w,” Gerald began —but another picture came to view. This time a busy office. A man that looked strangely familiar was bend- ing over some account books. He raised his head, and there was “Doc” Shu- maker, a little older and careworn, but for all that a successful C. P. A. By this time were all too interested to speak, and as “Doc” faded into the back- ground a tent was shown. Everything was gay with banners, and in the foreground was a band that was playing merrily. A man steps forward, then the curtains part and a giant and an acrobat step forth. “That’s you, Clark,” Fred grinned, and sure enough there was Clark Platt and Hennrietta Packer. But it was time for their act, and they withdrew to leave the scene to the jungles of Africa. A hunting trip was in progrss, and evidently the game was sighted, be- cause excited blacks and several whites were hurrying forward—out of the brush steps a tall, well built man dragging the carcas of a lion. He was immedi- ately surrounded by his admiring men, and it was full five minutes before we