Canton High School - Monthly Yearbook (Canton, OH)

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By which her little grandson should be called, XYas one we often heard in school, Millard. HI wonder where old Harold Ellis is, I havent heard of him for many a year. No matter where he is, there's one thing sure, Of his success I needn't have a fear. He always was a hearty stalwart lad, lYith common sense for half a dozen men, Since that's the type of men who makes things SO, He's sure to be ahead of all of them: At least, we were oft' told by Mr. Shutt, That that's the type of man who does succeed, And all I've learned in my long life since then, Has proved to me that he was right, indeed. How well I do remember Mr. Shutt, XYho used to crack those jokes so old and stale 5 And how we used to falsely laugh at them, To keep on his good side so's not to fail. But yet he was master of his art, As English Prof. he never had a peer, At heart we always liked him honestly, Tho' his demerit slips we had to fear. In fact, when I that faculty consider, VVe really liked them every single one, And tho' sometimes we had disputes with them, XVe soon forgot them all when we were gone. Yet there was one dark spot I oft' recall, XYith truest reverence, sincere and deep, Ah me, that ours should be the class to lose Our dearest friend in death's long silem sleep! But ours was not the only class, by far, XYhich by that stroke of Fate did lose their friend, He was a friend to all, we missed him much, But gloried in his triumph at life's end. K'liVe learned to like the man who followed him, ' .Xltho' we didn't know him very long, We learned to know him well enough, indeed, To know that he would never do us wrong. And then the end of our high school life g- Distinctly I remember that last night, And how Ralph Jesse, our class orator, IYith eloquence did point us to the right! Then he who had the Valedictory Our parting made so very sad and sweet, The talk that Bobbie Hartman gave us, too, Like every thing of Bob's could not be beat. I recollect that I was poet then! yVhy, I knew more of pumpkins, wheat, and corn, Than I did of how to write in verse! For those were things I learned wherel was born. Yes, I'll always remember everyone, lfVho in that great commencement had a part, The picture of the girls in sailor suits Will ever stay with me a work of art. Yes, that old class of nineteen double-one XYill always stay with me a mem'ry sweet, I loved them all, and always will do so, And hope some day them yonder all to meet. The old man's form relaxed, he dropped his head g The magic cap had quickly lost its charmg I ran to him, alas, it was too late! The old man's spirit was beyond all harm. Cn.xRI,12s .XM12Nn'r.

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Class Poem Forty Years After I saw an old man quiet sit and think, I wondered what was passing through his brain, At times his wrinkled face would wreathe in smiles, Then quickly sober would it grow again. As curious I became, I wondered much, If I someway his thoughts discover could g And as I stood and meditated thus, A genius strangely beckoned from a wood. I followed him, and thus he spake to me: Your wish you have, if you but will it so, XVho wears this magic cap, men's thoughts can see, It take, and use, and readf' then, GOI I took the magic cap, then found the man,- His thoughts were plainly now revealed to meg And as I saw them on that afternoon just so I truly tell them now to thee. Yes, those were good old days in Canton High, I love to sit and think of them once more I wish that I could see all of the class That graduated there in days of yore. XYe surely had a fine old class in 'double-one,' No better's left the school before or after, And when I think of them and their lives since, Some things call forth a sigh, and others laughter. There's Ilinns who used to be our President, He was an entertainer, I declare! He used to get up walks and wagon-rides, And every thing you'd think of that was rare. He always had a bold and scrappy spirit, And always stood for what he thought was rightg I guess what made him such a lawyer, was The way he always hankered for a tight. And there was old .lack Price we loved so well, XYho always was coach Hazlett's right-hand man, In games, no matter what or where they were, He was as true a sport as ever ran. In business, too, he was a shining light, .Xnd ran the High School Monthly in fine style, .Xnd when it came to running class-boo-ks, well, He had all others beat at least a mile. There's XX'agener who was editor-in-chief Of that old classbook, nineteen double-one, I guess he's handed down his talents all, To the editor of this year's book, his son, But if his son gets out a better book Than his old daddy did, he'll have to Work, He'll have to toil away both day and night,- The smallest task he'll never dare to shirk. I believe Ruth Nusly helped to write that book,- Yet how she did it never has been shown, For she was such a wiry jumping-jack, For keeping quiet she was never known. She's grandmother for three weeks now, I hear, And, strange to say, the name by all preferred

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Knowledge No one has come to true greatness who has not felt in some degree that his life be- longs to his race, and that what God gives him, He gives him for mankind. Those who real- ize this fact are continually trying to ease the hardships of the less fortunate, to free them from drudgery and ignorance, and to brighten their prospects for a grand and noble life. These are the servants of the human race in the truest and grandest sense of the word Those who do not realize the import of their gifts, either entirely ignore the needs of their fellow beings or use their power to demoralize and mislead them. These live contrary to the laws of Nature, for every object was created for service to God or man. The bee, while it gathers nectar, carries pollen from flower to flower, thus giving us blossoms and fruit. liven the bee accomplishes a worthy purpose in life. Then, how grandly should man, who is endowed with all the natural gifts of intel- lect, fulfill his mission. So important has this mission become, that its execution is the standard for measuring the lives of men, for, as Voltaire said, I know of no great men ex- cept those who have rendered great services to the human race. Knowledge is the one great blessing that distinguishes man from beast. It is the power to be used to spread human happiness, to lessen human pain, and to economize human labor. lf its strength and beauty are hidden under a selfish purpose, it cannot do its grand- est work. If the rosebuds were to hide their fragrance and beauty from the world. they would be counted among the weeds of the field. Men who try to reserve their education and accomplishments for their own selfish gain, narrow the scope of their usefulness and lower their positions among their fellow be- ings. Thomas Edison is one of the grandest examples of the modern servant to mankind. He spends hours each day in his laboratory, striving to add to his already great number of inventions that he may have yet another to lay before the shrine of mankind. He is an for Service uncrowned king whose name and memory shall be blessed by future generations and shall live long after the petty kings of finance have been forgotten, for his throne is built up from his own labor and not from the misery and wreck of his fellow men. You remember the story of the Lorelei, the beautiful siren who sat upon some dangerous rocks along the Rhine. She was combing her golden hair with a golden comb, and the rare jewels that she wore glistened in the sun. She was singing a wonderfully sweet song, and a boatman who chanced to see her, was dazzled by her beauty and fascinated by her voice. He thought not of his danger and rowed nearer and nearer until his ship was dashed to pieces on the rocks and he was drowned. This siren still lives, still lures men on and on, and causes them to forget their honor, their fellow-man and their God. VVhen they have almost gained the desired gold, they are cut down by the scythe of the grim Reaper and are refused admittance at the tlrcat Gate, while the poorest laborer may enter. lf heaven measures man by his good deeds he has performed and the souls he has saved, then 'tthis world will be blind indeed if it does not reckon among its great ones, heroes without laurels and conquerors without the jubilation of triumph. All around us are people giving not money but pity, kindness and sympathy. These are doing a greater work than if they were building great churches, for they are uplifting the souls of men. Knowledge is power when it can be made available, practical. lt is not the amount of Greek, Latin, Algebra or Geometry that we are able to remember that is the true test of our learning. Education is not supposed to store the memory with useless knowledge, but to quicken the faculty of observation, to culti- vate the habit of method and arrangement, and to add to the interest and variety of life. The ones who use their knowledge, find unlimited