Cedar Grove Academy - Yearbook (Cincinnati, OH)

Page 76 text:

What Worries Us It isn't the New Year that worries us most, It's that bell ringing half after eight, It isn't the run on a cold winter's morn It's the fact that we dare not be late. It isn't the alarm that bothers us most, Though it's set now at six 'stead of eight. It isn't the missing a street car or bus, But the shame of it all if We're late. It isn't the fashions that bother us now, For ah, me! it is strange to relate, Our noses are shiny-not a wave in our hair-M But why worry, if we are not late? It isn't the fact that we go all alone- For friends no longer will wait! It isn't the lack of our coffee and buns, But the dread of arriving too late. The juniors --0-1009!-0--' Girls arriving, stars afgleaming, Witches riding, moon afbeaming, Bonffire crackling, wienies roasting, Corn afpopping, sweets aftoasting, Coffee steaming, buns afheating, Ukes afstrumming, Tomftoms beating, Girls aftalking, voices singing, Some afdancing, laughter ringing, Happy, hearty, full of pleasure, Healthy, hungry, all will treasure Every feature, every toast Of that Senior Wiener roast ! The juniors l72l

Page 75 text:

OUR GRADUATION MAIDS JANE EIRILESTUN, MARTIIA DECOURCEY, LOIS MCGINNIS, MARY WIECIIERING, EILEEN CCULINA, MAUREEN CLARK, IVIARAIORIE AULL, ELVA LOUISE MOELLER, JANE OHBRIEN, BETTY SCHMIDT, MARY JULIA RIENSTATLER, RUTH HENNEssY, BETTY CAMPBELL, JANE FREDERICK, BETTY MCDONOUGH, MARGARET LIEDERMIER, HERMINE SCHULTE, JUNE DEE, -IEAN TIERNEY. Ee' 'xxx f kg ,.. O F A E711

Page 77 text:

X .Aol 4.'f f x.,f R I , ,, 1' - . F, -to Beauty mmsbk She smiles, a trusting ma1d of three And sets a world of beauties free , ' Angelic, sweet divinely pure a J 1 17 . ,yn , X J Most gaily innocently sure ffgi' ',j Qc d I Raised eyes, raised lips ff 'yi f' ,7 vi?-' ,Q J, 44- N Short bobbing curls , if L ' S-SN: fb How beautiful are little girls' lv xi 'few z- ff ' If ' ' MVN- A T'rcwele'r's Song Oh, life is like a train, I think Whizzing through town and mart, And like the din of the engine's roar Is the throb of the human heart. Passengers, old and young, ride there, Their journeys are short and long, But each one is loathe to leave the train And its hustling, bustling throng. For there is a lure that you can't resist A spirit of Doing Things, Of making this world a brighter place In song that the old train sings. Yes, it is old-oh, aeons old! It has run since the world began And guarded the lives of a million men, God's greatest caravan! And every hour it breathes a dream Of nobler deeds to some passengers new And every hour it comes nearer the end Of its course 'twixt 0ur Green and The Blue Oh, life is like a train, I think, Whizzing through town and mart, And like the din of the engine's roar Is the throb of the human heart! I73I