Central High School - Central Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

Page 9 text:

One-half our course, two precious years, we’ve passed: Before us stretch two precious twelve months more: We’ll strive to make them better than the last, To learn more than we’ve ever learned before: We’ll study hard and all the time! but lo, What games and parties, — surely, we must go! The Psi Omega, Beta Kappa, too, Greek, Glee and Shakespeare clubs now take our time! Class meetings, well enough while something new, And Junior poems, (rhythm, thought, sublime) ! And books exchanged for many a midnight dream, When we’ve been “out to help support the team,—” Then Physics, with its note book once a week, And other Junior joys unqualified! And Cicero, and William Tell, and Greek, And many a text to English work allied! So long as memory holds our School life dear, We'll think with joy of this our Junior year. And now three years are gone, and we again Upon a fair September morning bright, As Seniors, honored of the world of men, Return to dear old Central with delight. And now with pitying smile, not scornful frown, We are the upper classmen looking down! How eagerly we follow Virgil’s trials, And give to French and Greek our utmost thought! We learn of intersected spheres, with smiles, Absorb all Physiology we’re taught. We store our minds with German, Botany, Grow wise in lore of Ancient History. We hear “When do you speak?” a sad refrain, And sadder still, we hear in answer, groans. Class dues and club dues come and come again, Demanding every pocket piece one owns, Class meetings with their long and tedious hours, Debating contests, just to show our powers. The Senior dance,—a grand affair, indeed; Our disappointment that we can’t have more: And games with other schools,—fair fame, their meed, Our joy when dear old Central manes the score And at the last, our state of hurried cram, For that most telling, final dread exam. O, these four years, how sweet each one has been, Since first we blithely entered Central’s hall! The honors that we’ve striven hard to win, Our triumphs and our failures, one and all! For every day, though joy or grief it brought, Has in its fullness, some sweet lesson taught. And to the principal and teachers dear, Through whose kind labors we have reached this day. And to the parents whose best hope is here, A debt we owe which we can ne’er repay. But gratitude and love to them we give, We’ll try their teachings in our lives to live. We feel a pang of sadness as we part. From kind, dear friends we’ve known these four short years, Great aims and hopes cannot console the heart Nor stop the flow of severed friendship’s tears; Yet as we turn from this sweet past tonight, We see the distant future, shining bright. Harriet A. Ives, '08. Page Seven

Page 8 text:

Page Sis Clas :Poem Our school life lies behind; its happy hours, Are buried in the dim and distant past; And memory brings us now naught but the flowers, Of those four years that sped away so fast. Yet turn we for a lingering look tonight, To that dear Past’s departed pleasures bright. We see, as now we take a backward view, A bright September morn, whose balmy air, And grasses sparkling with the undried dew, Speak parting Summer’s message everywhere. We see old Central’s portals open wait, To greet the coming class of nineteen-eight. We see ourselves as trembling Freshmen stand, To know our fortune in that ample hall; We feel again that sense of foreign land; That sense of strangeness, loneliness, and all: As, looking up with dazed, affrighted frown, We saw the upper classmen looking down. We see those rooms like catacombs of old, That puzzled with their non-adjacency; We vainly strive to seek the numbers told; With scornful, Sophomore-like complacency, We strive to enter every class room door, And “make our levels” on the proper floor. But memory forever will hold dear, And give an honored page in her great book, That bitter-sweet, that studious Freshman year; Yes, in our hearts it has its sacred nook. The thorny green must e’re surround the rose, Before its fragrant petals shall unclose. A year has passed; and now, as Sophomores proud, We go to rooms assigned without a guide; What privilege to Freshmen not allowed, Shall from henceforth be ours! Fond, foolish pride,— For, looking up with smile instead of frown, We find the upper classmen still look down. But there are compensations: Freshmen now, Look up to us, as we were kings of men, And on the street the Juniors almost bow, (Disdainfully, and look away again!) And lessons do not seem such awful bores, And bluff is tried and oftentimes it scores! And so this year goes on. Societies Begin to come our way, and contests, too. We’re learning now what High School really is, Its meaning, and its spirit, brave and true. Exams and tests concern us more and more, That we have good reports when they are o’er. In sports we take a growing active part: We even have our players on the team. If Central loses, we lose hope and heart; When Central wins, with joyousness we beam; Though we have not yet perfect bliss attained, As Sophs, a worthy measure we have gained. And yet again old Central’s doors swing wide, Upon a glorious morn in early fall; We feel a new, a glowing sense of pride, As Juniors, entering the well-known hall. And with half kind and half disdainful frown, We join the upper classmen looking down.

Page 10 text:

Clasft ihatorp History, so learned men tell us, is divided into two classes, Sacred and Profane. When I first began to consider our history, I was at a loss to know how to classify it. No one would call it Sacred, and we would be loath to call it Profane, so I came to the conclusion, in spite of the learned men, that history was divided into three parts and that Class History constituted the third division. It seems but a few months instead of four years ago that we began the making of this history. We entered in September, 1904, five hundred and seventy-six in number. There were several unique features about our class, aside from the regular green tint which they say all freshmen have. First, we were one of the largest, if not the largest class that had, up to that time, entered Central. Then, we were the first Freshman class to derive the many benefits of the new gymnasium and auditorium. And lastly we entered and are departing during leap years and years of Presidential elections. . Just what we did in that first year, aside from the studying in which we so deeply indulged, has grown rather dim in the busy rush of the later years. We do remember, however, the bitter defeat our freshman team received from the haughty sophomores. In the second year, things began to look a little brighter for us, although our ranks were considerably depleted by some who had left school and others who had decided during the summer to take a five-year course. In the inter-class football game we easily defeated the freshmen, and thought we were well avenged. It was in the latter part of this year that the school first began to notice us. We had our share of members on the football, basket ball and track teams, who did very creditable work. At the same time the different clubs of the school were on the lookout for desirable members and those sophomores who were fortunate, were given a deeper conception of the word initiation. As Juniors we took on a new dignity but at the same time rather lost our identity. We could no longer so ostentatiously lord it over the under classmen, and, as for being ourselves persecuted, the Seniors were too much engrossed in their own affairs to notice us. However, the year was spent very profitably and enjoyably, and to the credit of the class. One of our members took the second prize in the Leader oratorical contest, even though we were not represented on Central’s team in outside debates. Also the Juniors took the initiative in founding the new club of the year, the Faraday Club. At last, we were all detained in the auditorium one Friday, and Mr. Harris told us that it was time for us to organize. Oh, the importance of that organization and what weighty business wc discussed in our meetings! Also, we made many plans for dances which did not materialize, and instead, many of the Juniors found their way to the Senior party in May. When, finally, the year closed, it was with many happy memories and hopeful expectations that we looked forward to returning the next year. Derby hats, lengthened skirts and a faraway, preoccupied air, marked the new Seniors in the fall of 1907. At last we had come to our own, had reached the goal so long anticipated. Here we met the bug bears so often described to us by former Seniors, the senior themes, and Rhetoricals, but we found them not as bad as painted. The Senior year was the shortest year of all, so full was it crowded with work and pleasures. Hardly were we well started when the holiday season was upon us with its many festivities, also the mid-year exams. Uur Christmas party was the event of the year; il was unusually successful. There have been two afternoon class informals held since then besides numerous inter club dances. Three new clubs have been founded this year by members of the Senior class, with help from the Juniors, the Civics, Commercial and Art Clubs. Altogether, we feel that our class has left its mark in the school and a record of which we may justly be proud. After four years of pleasure and labor togethmer, we are to be separated; a few more days,—then Commencement and the final dissolution. After that what? Who knows? Joseph P. Connolly, ’o8.