Central High School - Central Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

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Class Poem For afternoon-session the Board did hatch-up That pupils delinquent at once might catch-up; A horrid device, which it grieves me to mention. And I fear I am losing all students’ attention. So I’ll leave that and speak of the time when as Seinors, With dignified airs and right lordly demeanors, We strutted about with all things in our rule, Were to all lower classmen decidedly cool. And the parties we had, could one ever forget them, When all went just right, not one thing to upset them? The fun that they caused is most hard to explain And I know I’d attempt that great subject in vain. But memories sweet of the joys we’ve had here, Will recall them again throughout many a year; Soon even this night, our own class-night, will be To each one of us here, a fond memory. Even now looking into the future to come, We foresee a fair day when we all shall come home; And changed though we be, our reunion shall prove We’ve not changed toward old Central, her memory we’ll love. —Kathryn Abbott, 1911. Marguerite: “But where is the prophecy? Aren’t we to know our future?” Philip: “An hour ago ’twas nine, and in one hour more ’twill be eleven. We haven’t time.” Grant: “Deliver me from prophecying one hundred and—fates—my own is bad enough.” Marcia: “I’d rather die young and spare the class the agony.” Marie: “Let’s have the Glee Club Seniors warble us off in lots!” All: “Good idea. Splendid.” (Enthusiastic calls for the Glee Club, who come up and sing the prophecy.) flroptjecp jfeong To the tune: “Kelley’: Now your future you would know, You would know, you would know; What you'll do, and where you’ll go, Oh, oh, where? We can’t tell you very much But what we do let it be such That you may take warning Of ills that are swarming, Of every plot-----beware 1 Oh girls, you’ll many conquests make, Conquests make, conquests make; Many are the hearts you’ll break, Oh, oh, Sir! Gone to Kingdom Come.” Where e’er you go, what e’er you do Mark these words we tell to you: Do not forget The lone suffragette, No wedding bells for her! The boys will deal in stock and bond, Stock and bond, stock and bond; Of whirling tape they’ll soon be fond; Ooh, ooh, ooh! Of prices you must be discreet, For from the lair of great Wall Street Come the bulls and the bears Which you meet on the stairs; Look out! or they’ll get you! 28 —

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ORATOR. Miriam: “Wonder if Mark Antony had a Miss Bruot to train him!” (Consult programmes.) Martin: “Ah, the vocalist!” Philip (singing to the tune of “Flow Gently, bweet Afton”) : “Sing gently, sweet Sissle! (Stops himself suddenly.) VOCALIST. Miriam (sadly): “Noble’s last Central song. (Consult programmes.) (All begin, Grant starting it.) “Here Kitty, Kitty—” Class igoem (With apologies to O. W. H.) Has there any strange person got mixed in with us? If there has, take him out without making a fuss. For this is the night which belongs to the class; 'Tis the last one of fun altogether, alas! Just four years ago, in the month of September, (This is not nineteen-forty, you’ll kindly remember) Great stores of fine knowledge we thought we'd amass, And we started out boldly, this brave, fearless class. And so we assembled, to find out our doom; Our first meeting together, in this very room; Will you ever forget how we climbed all the stairs And sank down exhausted upon the front chairs? And the fall to our hope, when on coming again We took the same seats and were plainly told then: That the place for a Freshman up here, was the rear; And the looks of those Seniors stood out very clear! Still that was the least of our great load of cares: The Seniors’ disdain, and the Juniors' proud stares. Twas the name that they gave us: base Flats we were dubbed. And because of the term were right properly snubbed! The next year we came back to continue our way; No longer “fool youngens” as Riley would say; But this time we entered old Central’s big doors We entered distinguished, as wise Sophomores. Oh how haughty and proud did we stride thru the hall With that look of the Sophomore: “I know it all”; ‘Those Freshman, how tiny! If we looked like that It s no wonder they nicknamed each one of us Flat!’ And next we were Juniors; we hardly believed That so soon such an honor we’d really achieved. Clubs kept us so busy, that scarce time we had To get all our lessons, which made us so sad! Closs Poem — 27 —

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But in this we’ll all agree, All agree, all agree; Men and women we will be Of great fame. And in all the years to come We will say when we come home: All this is due, Central High, to you That we have won—a name! M. C. and K. A., Tl. Clastf £ ong Tune: “Oh, Syracuse.” Class of elev’n, with our hearts so true, E'er guided on by the gold and blue; Let’s not forget as the years go by Our Alma Mater, dear Central High. Though we have won many victTies here, May we advance each succeeding year; Honors achieve as the days go by, For our Alma Mater, dear Central High. Even afar, in a distant land, May we remember our glorious band ; Xineteen-elev’n will win greatest fame, And Central High will honor our name! K. L. A., 1911. Class Song