Commerce High School - Commerce Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

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William Eilers, one of our Freshmen, was recently the recipient of a fine gold watch, awarded by the McWatters-Dolan Company, for the best composition on an allotment opened by that company. William is congratulated for his ability along literary lines, as he had to compete with a large number of Cleveland boys and girls who were contestants for this beautiful prize. “i2o JJtcfenanus” High School of Commerce we call our new school. And, oh, your treatment would be quite cool, If in your ignorance you should try To call this school Commercial High. CLARA PFISTER, 1911. March 4, 1910.—A near-speech was made by Carl Thumm at the meeting of the Ecremmoc Club today. Great excitement was felt on account of the unheard of event. (gigantic Strike! Owing to labor over time and a five per cent, decrease in wages, the tongue of Richard DeForest went on a strike today. The tongues in the employ of Mr. Lustig, Mr. Fred Johnson and Carl Thumm threaten to strike out of sympathy. 2lccibent to ffiujek! Climaxing the horror of the parliamentary drill, occurring at the Ecremmoc Club, comes the news that Arthur Buzek has been buried alive in his meditations! Kindly omit flowers. fetubteb (Cffefts Our “Compensation” makes us think, Our “Geography” makes us wise, Our “Book-keeping covers our fingers with ink. Our whole life is filled with sighs. 78

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 $3fnnpless ” ffpENNYLESS!” Yes, pennyless is exactly the word to describe our X condition on the evening of which I am about to tell. To begin with, three years before this time we had taken it into our heads to travel. We had been in the Philippines together, and as you probably know, the army usually leaves more or less of the “wanderlust” in a man's veins. We had left New York early in the spring for England, and reached there safely. Things were quiet there, so we passed on to France. There we had several small disagreements with certain persons, and because of the weapons we used—our fists—which did not come under their duelling code, we had to leave. Italy struck me favorably as to scenery and climate, but I could not stand the people, so we did not stay long there. We saw about all there was to see in Northern Africa, and I liked that region immensely, but some how or other, it seemed that our presence was not long desired in any one place. Well, to make a long story short, we landed finally—as do most of those of adventurous spirit—in Central America. I do not know what there is that attracts restless souls to that locality unless it is the constant state of revolution that prevails in that climate. At any rate, after working our way down from the northern states, we were finally in Panama. Our luck had been bad, our money had run out, and our clothing made us look like tramps, which I guess we were. We had been living on an average of a meal and a half a day for the past week, so at all times we were pretty hungry, but there was no money, therefore no supper. And so this evening we started out along the canal bed. This was a section of the canal which the United States had not yet reached in its work of reconstruction. The night was dark, and after walking for several hours we discovered that we had run off on another path. It made no special difference to us in what direction we went, so we continued our walk. We walked on a considerable distance, and finally came to a small deserted shanty. We pounced upon it as a resting place for the night. I pushed the door open and the rusty hinges creaked. ‘Snakes,” announced Tommy with an air of decision. He knew that snakes, and especially tropical snakes, were one thing which I had never gotten used to, and for that reason he put great emphasis on the word. “Not for me,” said I, so we passed on. We were pretty tired by this time, so we hunted a hill where the breeze blew rather strongly, (we always did that in tropical climates because in such a location there are fewer mosquitoes), and prepared to spend the night in peace. Now, the strange part of this narrative is what happens hereafter. I seldom dream, but when I do there is something sure to happen. Once when a small boy, I had dreamed that the school house would burn, and I 80