Canton Williams High School - Algonquin Yearbook (Canton, NY)

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rather aptly when he said The freshman's answer is merely 'I don't know'g the sopho- mores, 'I'm not prepared'g the junior's, 'I don't understand the assignment'g and the senior's, 'I don't believe I can add anything to what has already been said.' Gee, but we were misbe- haved the day of the dog races, for instance. Many of our freshman class seemed to think that a dog-sled race was sufficient to warrant the suspension of school. They enjoyed the races, but lost their faces. Experience mak- eth a man no wiser. Mr. Williams can readily testify to that, as each spring the boys must be reminded several times that trodden grass won't grow. It was in the spring of the sopho- more year we had our sleeping tablet mania. Tablets for the asking . . . they put you out of your scholastic misery almost instantly- students dozed longer than usual and teachers worried and wondered. The most exasperating experience of the high school career for Latin students came when you were translating in class, after a hastily prepared assignment. Your predecessor had written in the meaning of an unknown word too faintly to be disting- uished. The final choice usually betrayed you. Ch yes, we remember reading book reports at the last minute for else not reading theml. We won't forget Miss Bovee's saying, Oh, my godfrey! I never in my life saw such people! , nor Jack Cornell as the number one late-comer of Canton high. Remember how Class Poem Across from the court house And up the street a way, We, the class of forty-four, Stood one autumn day, Armed with fun and pranksg 1We were far from bluel We began our march Through the years- To find ourselves in forty-two Among the upper class peers. In forty-three we proved ourselvesg We were Seniors, mighty and strong, We scorned the frosh, looked down on the sophs, And with the juniors-just got along! Forty-four finds us, diploma in handy We're still carefree and gayg But through one week of growing up, We have found ourselves And we say: There's a war to fight- A place to win, By the children of Uncle Samg We'1l furnish the meng We'1l see that it's doneg We are ready and firmly we stand. -Betty Carraher Jack came into study hall just after the bell rang, swearing softly with his hand over his face? fP'robably hoping none would recognize himlj And Ray Woodley's taking Miss Bovee home in his royal Plymouth after play prac- tice? We distinctly remember when the chem class made hydrogen sulphide three days in a row! Unfortunately, the delightful aroma per- meated the entire building, and on the third day, Mr. Meng remarked glumly to his English class, They're making that 'stuff' again. Ho-hum . . , no time for things to get dull. Fifteen new teacers have come since we en- tered. Good thing there are at least a few of the old standbys left. Teachers aren't the only ones who have left-Jim Corey, Buck Reynolds, and Dutchie Mulvaugh have switched bosses-it's now Uncle Sam! Our chief executives have been Muggie Long- shore '40-41, Butch McMasters '41-42, Jim Corey '42-43, and Larry Ames '43-44. Assist- ing them as vice presidents have been Phil McMasters '40-41, '41-42, Marion Barber '42-43, and Helen Maybee '43- 44. Class secretaries -have been Louis Gray, Betty White and Bob Moore. Our three treas- urers have been Helen Maybee, Betty White and Bob Moore. And so, We fold our tents like the Arabs and silently steal away -but maybe not so silently, Class Song We are ready, Strong and true, Armed with memories Of our country, home, and school, And our liberties. We are ready, One and all, We have heard the call. 'Til the war is done, And the peace is won, America, we'll fight for you! -Donald White

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Leona Norton leaves her deep interest in 4-H work to Betty Cornell. Now Betty will have another topic for conversation. Her present one-boys-is almost worn out from over-use. Grace Peters leaves her persuasive voice to M-ary Alice Martyn. Jerry Stover leaves his history book to the on-coming Seniors, It's pretty well mutilated, but maybe it can survive another session with gentle handling. Anna Radway leaves her friendly disposition and talent for telling tall tales to Myrtle Wilson. James Todd leaves his position on the Wash staff to Mary Segar. Marie Rodee leaves her scholastic ability to her sister, Elaine. Don't spoil the family record, Elaine. Otis Van Horne leaves his seat on the school bus to anyone who wishes to occupy it with a girl. This idea of sharing can be carried too far! Corrine Rose leaves her love for Crary's Mills and Langdon's Corners to the first high school student to succeed her from that dis- trict. John Wells leaves his stature to Stonie. Now watch Sitonie go to to-wn in basketball! Marilyn Tracy leaves her place in Al Meade's orchestra to Barbara Norton. Joyce Thomas leaves her studious methods in Study Hall to Jerry Pike. Now Jerry won't even think about maintaining his daily quota of candy consumed. Lloyd Thomas can not leave his dates with the Marines to anyone. Jean Wade leaves her good humor and her love of laughter to Jean Todd. Don White leaves his special Wash as- signments to anyone who can convince the editor that what he thinks is right. Wayne Whittemore leaves his vocabulary to anyone who wishes to make good use of it. Betty White leaves that cheerful smile and merry greeting to Bea Hunt although Bea is doing pretty well on her own. Eleanor Aldous leaves her letter writing to Dot Hobbs. We hope you have as much luck as Eleanor in not getting caught. Donald Burnham leaves his athletic ability to Jimmy Taylor. Now Jim will have some- thing to do besides running errands. Don Estabrook leaves his visits in the Latin room to Zola Shipman. He agrees to throw his oratorical powers also. Don Forsythe leaves his fear of the oppos- ite sex to Roger Meade. Ray Woodley leaves a package of cigarettes, the Plymouth, and his pair of guaranteed un- breakable glasses to any student who needs these accessories as badly as Ray thought he did. Gllaaa ill-Iiatnrg--1944 When we entered Canton High in the fall of 1940, we never thought it would be possible to graduate-the time would just never come! But it has, and here we sit on the stage of our auditorium for the final incident-graduation. If it would not be considered improper, we would tear off these gray robes and run, in spite of the salutatorian's hearty welcome. Still, we would feel odd if we finished a four- year course without celebration or ceremony. Maybe people don't realize or remember how trying graduation is, but possibly it's alright after it's over. Why, though, is graduation night always the hottest of the year? Looking in retrospect over our four years we feel regret upon leaving. Our minds scan the curious and unimportant things that make high school what it is. We recall our first week as freshmen and how we counted the squares in the ceiling of the Latin room Qthere are 278, not counting the partial onesj . . . and that same week how we were told that we were the greenest bunch of freshmen that had ever en- tered . . . how Mrs. 0'Hara-Bovee taught us the three types of governments-complete with intricate diagrams-but darned if I can re- member one of them now , . . how we made our first timid ibut soon to grow bolderj attempts at social life . . . We also remember the none- too-appetizingqbefore-lunch alcoholrpreserved specimans in the biology room . . . and the piano without any ivories in the lower hall fsomehow it can still give out with good jive, thoughj . . , and the long-empty candy machine beside it fit won't work on slugsl . . . and Mr. Williams' other office that always seemed so empty . . , and the clattery noises that came out of typing class . . . boys sitting on the courthouse curb in May and October with their pantlegs up-rolled, exposing resplendant sox, and girls crunching down the aisle in huar- achos and those pictures on the study hall walls -we can't remember the details of them after 1200 hours of gazing . . . and how we romanti- cally recited Elaine the fair, Elaine the love- able and Tomorrow, and tomorrow and to- morrow with rolled r's and proper pathos . . . and how we returned triumphantly in the fall of '41 as curled, seasoned, smoked, and par- boiled sophomores, singing Hey Daddy and Time Was. We've made the Eskimo blue after basketball games for more than one season, and we've lingered around there on warm June nights whistling The Wise Old Owl, Skylark, Brazil, and When They Ask About You. The aggregate amount of time spent there by our class would be enough to build a. battleship, or at least, a destroyer. We've eaten late meals in Billy's, listening to A'Frenesi, t'Chat- tenooga Choo-Choo, Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition, and the sweet whine of 'Blue Rain, while putting away French fries, hamburgers and milk shakes. Some of us put in four years attempting to learn how to get by without doing assignments and how to mask, rather than mend, our aca- demic deficiencies. Someone put this situation

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-1 x.. Sluninr 0112155 I'I'I'I'IR PIl l'lfRH+H First Rowfliliss Bovee, G. Fllllllgflll. Littlz-jollu. Grsuidsiw, Hzirriugton. Dafoe. Oliver. Second RowfA. Duskas, Lumlvy. Kenyon, XICC0l'1llll'k. E. M:1r:Douald, N. Forsythe, Hobbs. Third Row-P. Cornell, Clark, McCormick, Colton, Meade, Cotter, Gray, MacDonald. LUWIZR PICTURE! First Row-Sanders, Thompson. Shipman. NVinter. Second Row-Pearl, Norton. L. Norton. Paige Race, Rood. Riley. Williams, Northrup. Third ROXVfSGg2'll'. Nash, Sfoairiw, Saiiltiniaw. 'W:itsou, Elliot. YVhnlen, Thompson. Dishaw. Besaw