Butler High School - Tropaeum Yearbook (Butler, IN)

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th|o cast was Elenora Kuss. Both now famous for the voices which always charmed us. The scene rapidly changed to California, a moving picture studio. The di- rector, a tall slender woman, was talking to the star, in spite of the grease paint we recognized Lorna Johnson, and the director was none other than Ruth Eak- right. On the set was another familiar figure, who proved to be Rebah Woods. L “You’re next, Bessie,’’ Rebah said as she faded from view, and we saw her as a happy wife and mother in a town in Pennsylvania. Her husband was not in sight, but we judged him to be a school-teacher. “Now all of our futures but your has been revealed, Brownie” Sal said, but my crystal is too faithful a servant to reveal that, so- Our future gazing was ended, and we resumed our other pastimes, but in our minds, remained the sight we had seen, and a vague wondering if—but who knows—“Tell me Little Gypsy What the Future Holds For Us.” Louise Brown. '•St-

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could catch sight of him. “WhozatY” asked Sal. “Some man” and Troas shrieked, “Why Sal it's you” and Sal it was, now a famous African hunter. A train now came into view as the jungle scene vanished, stopped, and we saw a girl whom we immediately recognized as Troas, laughing heartily at some cartoons. She gave a sudden start, and next we see her entering a studio occupied by two famous cartoonists—who are no other than Loren Steckly and Virgil Hathaway. Troas, it seems, had seen their names on some cartoons, and had immediately looked them up. The shadow faded, leaving the three mer- rily discussing old times. We are now shown a busy harbor, evidently that of San Francisco. From the crowd is seen a stout lady, accompanied by her equally thin husband, bound for a foreign port as missionaries. I gasped, and Hennrietta interposed that it was Ruth and Jack Moore, on their way to India. Just as they reached the gang-plank the picture faded, and— We see a homey little cottage in a small town. There presides our old classmate, Deborah Showalter, happily married to a man none of us knew. Another home appears, this time a big ranch house, and as we gazed, a horse ridden by a slim, girlish figure rode up to the door. “Looks like Doro- thy, only it’s too thin for her,” someone whispered, but it was Dorothy, now Mrs. Learned, who had indeed gotten much thinner, due to her life in the open with her husband who is a famous stock raiser. A busy station was the next scene shown, in it was a telegraph operator, who was receiving a message from a well-dressed athletic looking lady, who proved to be Marge, on her way to coach athletics in a small school near Bos- ton, where the cream of the country’s girls are sent for final training, before leaving for France to participate in the Olympic games there. She gazed at the operator, then gasped—and recognized Fred Tomlinson. A busy street was shown as they faded from the crystal surface, and down it came an ambulance, we followed it, and at the hospital the patient was taken into the Receiving Ward. He had been the victim of an automobile ac- cident, and was so swathed in bandages, that we had difficulty in recognizing Earl Mullett. “You always were a careless driver, Earl.” Dorothy remark- ed, and just then a -white robed nurse hovered into sight. “That pug-nose looks familiar,” Deborah noticed, and as she turned around we had recognized Sarah Wright. But howT different from the old Sarah, once a wild madcap girl, turned into this white-robed figure of Mercy. Too good to be true, but the crystal never lies. Now we see a magnificent theatre, an opera is in progress. From out the handsome velvet curtain steps a figure we recognize as Naomi. Another star in

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LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT We, the class of 1922 being of sound mind and disposing memory do here- by make, declare and publish this our last Will and Testament. I. To the Juniors we bequeath: a. Our “pep , lofty ideals and infinite knowledge of everything wmrth knowing. b. The privilege of reaching our exalted state, if you are able. c. Our dear High School teachers, who love us so well (?). d. Our dignified and noble attitude. e. Our gum chewing ability. f. The privilege of sitting on the south side of the room. II. To the Sophomores we bequeath : i a. Our sincere congratulations. You have risen from a lowly rank and are one step nearer being a proud “I know everything, don’t tell me nothing” Senior. III. To the Freshmen we bequeath: a. Our heartfelt sympathy. IV. To the teacher we bequeath, (special item) : a. To Miss R. Ross, we bequeath a few lessons in Phonics. b. Mr. Nord, a class that can answer his civics exams questions. c. To Miss E. Ross, a class to whom she may teach Transcendentalism and Euphuism, whatever they are. d. To Miss Shirley, a servant to carry out the Domestic Science garbage can. e. To Mr. Hawbaker, other meek, studious, humble, docile, sweet, obedient, law-abiding science classes,—such as ours (?). f. To Miss Gares, a trumpet to be used for keeping assembly periods. g. To Mr. Forney, our good thoughts. V. Special items. We bequeath to the following persons: a. Sal’s gracefulness and big feet to Huber Knisely. b. Louise Brown’s ability to bluff to Lillian Hiatt. c. Naomi Lawson’s shy and retiring attitude to Dorothy Snyder. d. Gerald Anthony’s speed to Lester Casebere. e. Earl Mullett’s accident insurance policy to Estel Kester. f. Clark Platt’s stature to Harold Lawson. g. Hennrietta Packer’s mirror to the Haverstock twins. In Witness Whereof we have subscribed our name and affixed our seal this day, in the year of Our Lord, One Thousand Nine Hundred and Twenty-two. The Senior Class of 1922.