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Page 20 text:
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THE MIRROR, 1922 History of Class of 22 T O reflect but a glimmer of the individual and peculiar brilliancy of the Class of ’22 demands a much more polished mirror than my mind can afford, but some features are too striking to be overlooked. These, my comrades, entering C. C. H. S. in ante-bellum days, surviving during the struggle of the greatest war in history, and graduating in these reconstruction days, deserve to have fallen into the hands of a real historian. They are of different aims and different equipments, yet by Sir Isaac Newton’s great law have been drawn together to one magnetic end, graduation with honor in the Class of ’22! Our number is twenty-one, yet in the dim distant fall of 1911 only eight of the present class waited in the first grade to be assigned their places. As the years have passed others have been added, until the eleventh year four recruits brought our number to the present strength—the largest class in the history of C. C. H. S. The class has achieved much, and with pride I can say that in scholarship, in athletics and literary attainments it ranks second to no other class. There are some who may startle the world in science or mathematics, others who may become shining lights in Romance Language and some who may make new history. In athletics I feel sure there are Babe Ruths and Ty Cobbs. Who knows? I am encouraged to say this because of the wonderful records in these particular subjects in the past four years. We have not always done our best. Who does? Yet we have tried and that thought takes away any bitterness of failure and leaves only sweet memories of the many successes we have met. As grave and reverend seniors we leave the old high school, and we feel sure she bids us good-bye with a “sob in her voice and a tear in her eye.” Lila Dedmon. Page eighteen
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Page 19 text:
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Senior Cl ass Madge Wood Pershing Lilerary Society, 21-’22. Checked for silence but never taxed for speech. Madge does not believe in wasting words on trivial sub¬ jects, hence her voice is seldom heard above the chatter of our lingual machinery, but some da,y we feel that she will be a model housewife, for her work in the Domestic Science Department has been excellent. Carroll Willis “Cliff Pershing Literary Society, 20- 22; Mystery Club, 22; President Sophomore Literary Society, 2 1 ; Assistant Busi¬ ness Manager Annual, ’22; Secretary and Treasurer Class, ' 22 . “Once a friend, always a friend. “Cliff” just entered our class this year, though he is known to everyone of us. A good record and many friends stand behind him and we feel sure that whatever he undertakes will work out for the best. We hear he’s in love, but that’s all light—-she ' s a Senior He goes to Washington and Lee next year and we wish him well. Bertie Yates “Bert” Pershing Literary Society, ’21 - ’22. “Bertie is ever faithful and true. As fine a girl as you ever fynew. Bertie, by her wonderful disposition, has inspired our class for the last two years. She leaves a good record, one of which anyone would be proud. We hear that she has chosen teaching for her life work. No need to fear about her, she will get along anywhere. Page seventeen
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Page 21 text:
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THE MIRROR, 1922 HO iiiflnuTlHtunjunniuiilikliiii My Diary September, 1918 I ' ve come to the Valley of Freshmen, Tall hills seem to hang over me; There are wonderful gardens about me, And paths leading upward I see. I am told I am here for a season. That at once I must start the long climb. That each task I accomplish will lead me Nearer the summits sublime. I am told that the lessons I master Are stepping stones up to the height; I must learn how to work in the valley, I must learn how to do with a might. My guides are loving and faithful. They help over rocks every day, And show me the pitfalls and canyons, Yet, alone, I must follow the way! September, 1919 By work and by following the guides I have reached the Sophomore Plain; ' Tis not far from the Valley of Freshmen And I climbed this plateau to gain. I look up, the ascent is steeper. And no more as a child I behold The beauties of hill and valley, The riches of silver and gold. The prospect is brighter and fairer, The top of the hill is in view. And the lessons I learned in the valley Inspire as my way I pursue. My guides give strength and good courage, I fall, and I show them the scars, They tell me ' tis only the rough ways That will lead one up to the stars. September, 1920 I’m up on the Plateau of Juniors, The ascent has been long, I declare; There are rough stones ahead in the pathway! But how pure and how sweet is the air! I look at the rough way behind me. How long and how tiresome it seemed. Yet the glories now spread round about me Are grander than ever 1 dreamed. The tasks here are heavy and harder. Yet ambition has grown in the night. And I must not slip back to the valley When I am so near to the height. September, 1921 At la st I’m in sight of the hill-top, One more victory now must be won; I must steadily climb and not falter. Each task must be worthily done. Tho each step is harder and steeper New light is beginning to shine; On this the last lap of the journey The work and the climbing are fine. Ah! here 1 stand on the hill-top. My comrades and I look around. The view is entrancing and lovely, And our thoughts are deep and profound! Our guides bid us look to the vista Of mountains that lift to the sky; They give hope and call this Commencement, And we listen and question why June, 1922 Ah, because the fuller life beckons Beyond are the hill-tops of power, The tall peaks of fame and of glory. Where the summits of sacrifice lower. Beyond are the Gardens of Service, Where Love has nourished the sod, And we reach the field of Achievement On the top of the mountains o f God. Lucile T. Adams. Page nineteen
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