Central High School - Almanac Yearbook (Toledo, OH)

Page 179 text:

A Confession. M. CLARKE BATTELLE, '99. HE evening was falling, Sol sank in the West. All nature was calling The gray World to rest. oszrrnrffj We Walked in the gloaming, The moon in the skyg Alone We Were roaming, This maiden and I. The clouds hid the bright moon, I bent and kissed her. HOW did you guess so soon She was my sister?

Page 178 text:

A Camp j'Reverie. BY THE LATE MARCUS C. BATTELE. HE Inoonbearns sifting softly down Through the leafy boughs of the old oak trees Picture each twig and Waving leaf On the ground in a mellow frieze. The river is rippling just below, Murmuring peacefully in the night, Stealing between its grassy banks, Like a slender ribbon of white. Our little tent in the clearing stands, Flanked by the wood on either sideg Our light canoes lie on the shore, Half afloat on the iiowing tide. The flickering light of the soft camp Ere Throws a iitful glare on the scene aroundg Breaking the wierd, fantastic shades Of the trees upon the ground. At length my comrade slowly speaks, Breaking the spell to my sorrow, My week is up to-night, Old Chap, And you must wash dishes to-morrow.

Page 180 text:

A Frefhman Idyl. h, a Winsome youth is the Freshman young! But his ways, they are passing strangeg From the earliest times have his deeds been sung Yet his type doth never change. Frank is his brow and modest his mien, And limpid and clear is his eye, But for ways that are dark and tricks that are vain Just give me the Freshman shy. In learning's fair halls he often appears Just after the tardy bell ringsg l Then as to the reason stern questions he hears, And this is the strain that he sings: The power gave out, or My mother was sick, f' My toothache was bad before eighty' H Our clock was too slow, Our cook isn't quickf' Being tardy is something I hate. I went for the doctor the baby to curef' I had to go back for a dime, 4' I really can't give any reason I'm sure, I thought I had plenty of time. With stern knitted brow he pores o'er his book, As he sits in study room B3 The gratified teacher steals up for a look At the problems in X, Y and Z. But oh, disappointment! his fond hopes soon die, For alas! something else does he findg A fearless young hero, with bold flashing eye, Of the Oliver Optic kind.