Cissna High School - Review Yearbook (Cissna Park, IL)

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GB. ID. IB. ltill. CLASS PROPHECY While I was returning from India on the liner Luxuria to take care of some business affairs, I conceived the idea of visiting Cissna Park. I engaged a speedy airplane at New York and was soon sailing for Cissna and all it held dear. At the very moment we were ready to land, the astounding realization forced itself upon me! My pilot was none other than Earl Brenner, that glorious pestilence of my High School days, who forever kept repeating the calm statement, Sa-ay, ya know you're good-lookin'? As I stepped out I said, Hello, Dupg do you know me ? Sure, he replied, knew you all along. Sa-ay, ya know you're good- lookin'? I stuck my nose in the air and set off for the filling station where a man was pumping gasoline. A certain mannerism, a certain twist of the head brought me to earth. Why that was Joe Beebel Hello, Joe, I said, do you know me ? For a moment hes.was astounded. Then: For the luvva mike! Who'dda thought it? How is everyone at Cissna ? I asked. Still kickin'5 but you aren't goin' there I hope? Why, I could tell you enough in two minutes to send you away for the rest of your life. All right. G0 to it. ' Well, he began, you remember George King g lives in Greenlandg makes his livin' sellin' lawnmowers to the Eskimos. Goolie Barth-that little sawed-off shrimp-married Nellie Sites. They live on a farm. You remember how goofy Roma was over him, I s'pose? Well, when he got married she broke down-just completely looney, plays her violin all the time. 'Oh, I wondered why she never wrote. Go on. Let's see-oh, yes! Ruth Zbinden became a trained nurse. Well, she married one of her elderly patients several years ago. She's just waitin' for him to kick off so she can get his money and marry Carl Berg, who's just pining away for love of her. You've probably heard of Wilbur? He's United States Prime Minister to the Chinks. Velma Freidinger is his wife. Guess they spend most of their time givin' receptions. Some life, that! What about the others ? Ralph Schmidt is a contractor and an architect. He just finished a building for the insane. It's pretty modernistic and just to look at it you'd think he'd soon land there himself. Chet Hofman? What about him 7 Chet? Why, he's manager of the Cissna baseball team. Last year they won the world's series. Wouldn't thought it, would you ? You've probably heard of Dale, too. He sings baritone in the Metro- politan Opera Company. Bill Beer just got a patent from the government for his perpetual motion machine and some other contraption he's rigged up. He'll make something out of himself if he doesn't look out. What about Lucy ? Lucy, the hardest-boiled school ma'am in the United States l You're right, Joe, I said, 'Tm disappointed in Cissna Park. .I up- held a great future for it. I'm going back to India where I can write m peace. And so saying, I climbed into my plane and departed. E HEWQQQ ml

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Q. lllD. GB. lltlll. S. M' CLASS WILL We, the class of 1929, of the Cissna Park Community High School, having accumulated many personal talents and properties, and wishing to lessen our burdens, do call you, our friends and readers, to the reading of this our last will and testament. We do hereby bequeath the following to our dear successors: To the board of education and faculty We bequeath our thanks for their kind help in supplying the things necessary in our many courses. The Senior Class bequeath to their fellow students their ability to strive ahead to a better goal. I, Walter Barth, do will and bequeath my sex appeal to Fred Huebener. I, Joe Beebe, do will and bequeath my promptness to Avanell Hilt. I, Earl Brenner, do will and bequeath my hyena laugh to Wilma Brown. hI, William Beer, do will and bequeath my ability in physics to Orin Ric oz. K II, Ruby King, do will and bequeath my incessant speech to Arthur es er. I, Carl Berg, do will and bequeath my increasing height to Bea Steele. I, Roma Dryden, do will and bequeath my musical ability to Dixie Schmidt. I, Dale Zbinden, do will and bequeath my singing ability to Mike Yergler. I, Ruth Zbinden, do will and bequeath my faithful old Ford to the Landes Sisters. . I, Chester Hofman, do will and bequeath my good times to Leroy Morton. I, George King, do will and bequeath my ability to smoke cigars to Delbert Pendergrast. I, Velma Freidinger, do will and bequeath my good disposition to Freda Rudin. I, Ralph Schmidt, do will and bequeath my independence to Lester Kogler. I, Lucy King, do will and bequeath my typewriting ability to Aubrey Morton. I, Wilbur Cluver, do will and bequeath my majestic bearing to Ernest Reutter. I, Nellie Sites, do will and bequeath my ability to play a saxophone to any promising artist. In witness whereof we hereunto set our hands and seal this fifth day of April, in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and twenty- nine. fSignedJ CLASS OF 1929. Witnesses: Bill Farnsworth Olga Laubscher E171 9 QEVIIXE

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B 413, ID. iii. H. S. SENIOR LITERATURE Ode to an English Assignment Miss Brown, she says to me, says she, Ya gotta write a poem by gee! The students' lips all fell with awe, As every student echoed, naw, That means you've got to sit and fret, And work and slave until the sweat Runs down your frame and what a shame, To find you've failed to make a namei fFor yourselfj -Earl Brenner. INDIA The mystic, magic tinkle of the far-off temple bells, The twinkling merry cadence of the musical cymbals, The hazy, lazy movements of the brilliant temple dance, Full carmine lips and flashing, sloe-eyed maidens glance, The twirling, whirling madness of the dervish in the square, The clamor and the clanging of the market in the air, The cries of brown-skinned portersg cames kneeling in the street, The plodding, burnoosed Brahman greeting those whom he may meet, Above, and shining ever, beating down on mud-dried roofs The brazen sun of India turns to gold the camels' hoofs. The gateways of the city, packed with teeming, toiling life With naked babies, shawled women, mixing in the strife, The Oriental moonlight-palest glow through veil of mist, The ebon nights of fragrance-incense-filled and flower-kissed, The irresisting magic of this witching desert land Of shieks and Eden gardens-glaring, yellow, golden sand- It calls and calls and beckons, and it lures me in my dreams, I can't forget its wonders, or the joys, it really seems. I must forever travel to this land of haunting power Wherein I find all gladness at the zenith of my hour. The temple-bells keep calling-soft and low their note it seemsg The glance of dusky maidens shatters all my fondest dreams, I sail o'er blue-set oceans, answering to this mighty call- I sail unto the sunset-temple-bells and glad cymbal! -Ruby King. V115