Codorus High School - Glen Echo Yearbook (Glenville, PA)

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SENIOR CLASS HISTORY 'Twas a peppy little old fiivver For the road it had to travel, Never before a car of such lore Did ride o' er such bumpy gravel. '31 was its license number Its colors were orange and blue, Not at the top, but climbing Served as its motto true. Its occupants at first were eleven Not crowded this Hivver--a bit, In fact, when one fell out, We could no better sit. But bumps were sure to come And storms, indeed, arise, But just remember our Hivver Was one of pep and size. One sunny day its girlies five Scrubbed up the grimy gym, With soap and water, brush and broom They went at it with vim. Another day our winsome gang Asked the Seniors in to dine, With watering mouth and smiling face, They all admit 'Tis fine. Swiftly Commencement Day drew night And Freshmen no more were we, But with a cheerful nod and a pleasant smile We scattered all over the lea. The following year ye again returned To resume our play and work, Not Freshmen now but wily Sophs And our tasks we never shirk. When lo! to our flivver came Another winsome lad to take The place of the one we lost, And eleven again we had. And one of our lassies bold On the debating team did go, Wfith a steady heart and gallant tongue She bravely met the foe. 'Mong flowers, frogs, and worms galore We worked most zealously, We gathered all these specimens For the class in Biology. Sixteen

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Classmates, dear classmates of '31, We've come to the fork in the road. No longer will we he sheltered On the hill, in this our abode. We,ve storms to meet on the morrow, And battles and strifes as well, Whether they be on the hilltop, Or whether they be in the dell. But there is hidden along life's way Treasure for you and me. So letls gaze along in the distance To the days that are to be. But think first of the memories of Glen Think first of your classmates dear. Then set out with a steady foot, Ready to conquer all fear. We've had our good times together, We've had our sad hours, too, But that beckoning light is calling us, And we must pursue and do. Success may await us tomorrow, Or storms may uphold us tonight. They may rob us of all of our silver, And even get hold of our might. But memories will ever be with usg They can never grow ahased. We can still sit down at eve'n And think of the joys of those days. ville High, B. L. Bortner, '31 Our school days now are past and gone, And yet we fondly linger hereg For sweet each joy that we have known, 'Tis sad to part from comrades dear. The world before us brightly lies, Where success is surely won. With saddened hearts and dewy eyes, We are proudly marching on. Long will our hearts recall each joy That bound us in sweet friendship here, For time can never more destroy The light of the happy days clear, To other scenes and other cares Our lips must now their story tellg So a sweet farewell to all we bear, Teachers and Classmates, Farewell! M. Rinehart, '3 1 Fifteen

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Again Commencement came with May And our work we again laid down. We went into the summer months With never a sigh or frown. In August our Hivver stood ready, Its gang was ready too, 'Cept one grew tired on the way And we lost him so true. Our lads they built a model, A model of C. T. H. S. The birds, they lingered round Not bad-they did confess. Our lad and two bold lassies On the debating team did serve, For they were bold and eloquent And never once did swerve. Bride and Groom , our play so gay, Was a roaring, unfailing success. Plenty of fun for every one And tears for some, I guess. When again from class and study free We took a mite of rest, Again to return the following year And do our best-our best. We built our memorial walk- Our lads and lassies, too When after many days, This task at last was through. That's One on Bill was surely fine For each one his part could play, And the people-how they laughed, Was it good?-Well I should say. Alasl Alack, we lost a lassie, And how we felt like weeping, But no time was available, For we saw the dawn come peeping. Our worthy fiivver is left abandoned, No more may we therein climb. 'Tis sad indeed that we must part But our work is a task sublime. This poem is our History, However badly written, Yet may it still a memory be, When we in school were sittin , B. L Bortner 31 Seventeen