Conneaut High School - Tattler Yearbook (Conneaut, OH)

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very wicked, but he sometimes became very serious when deprived of his own way, but then we knew he was our youngest and so we made allowances. Glenni’s activity in the laboratory was unparalled; how he broke the dishes, spilt the sauce, and splashed the water while his partner did the rest. The only way we kept track of him was by tracing his footsteps, which invariably toed-in. Our class possesses but one man,—at least a man in actions—if not in age. His fame in oratory has gone abroad, and Harrison is known to you all. Perhaps his steady step is indicative of his character. Throughout his course he has never been known to get excited, nor go beyond a smile, was always in dee]) thought, and never left a moment unimproved. Such is the dignity he displays in the class room. Can you imagine him mopping his mother’s floor, mixing the bread, running the washer, or scrubbing the porch? Yet Harry is proficient in all these lines. He is the man of our Annual, and would rathe1 work in the chemistry laboratory the whole noon hour than eat any dinner. Next comes our champion base ball player. Do not judge by the sound of the step, it is our sturdy sister Maine Coic. Marne has some of the rarest virtues. She never bluffed in class, never varied from her habitual neatness, and was never partial. But her activities out side the school room are so numerous that perhaps you know her better than the historian. I now have in mind a stately, dignified appearing lass. This is our class secretary, Althea. Ambition was her most prominent characteristic. Althea was slightly timid, but by coaxing she would display her art in the skill of music. Probably more smiles have been showered upon Will Wardman than on any of our other members. The girls say, “He’s the best looking boy in our class.” His black hair, and especially those grand broad shoulders, are admired by every one. W ill is a very bright boy. By his laughter you might mistake him, for he can imitate a donkey to a T. His skill in reading Latin was displayed when we were about to choose a class motto. Julia Dean Westin Dayton, is a bright ever smiling maiden. Her fluency in translating Latin surpassed most of the class, but almost invariably she would forget the constructions. We have no record of Julia’s trickery at any one time, but she is a constant high spirited lass. The initials R. C. occur to me. O! Russell Collins! I imagine him standing before us with a stick in one hand, and a book of rules in the other. But because of his absence from us, he thought it best to 26

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Class History. MEMORIES. There was an old woman Who lived in a shoe, She had so many children She didn’t know what to do. This is the quandry in which your historian finds herself when she attempts to write the history of the class of 1908, a task utterly impossible had not our number been reduced from nearly a hundred to twenty-five. Our High School Career may be divided into four parts. The first, “The Reign of Terror,” signifying our Freshman year when many harsh criticisms of the careless throng were heaped upon us. By September of the second year we had subsided into “Peaceful Submission. Here I might mention the sleigh rides, the parties, or the chestnuting tour with our boy chaperon, and our geologizing expeditions. Time and toil finally brought us to our “Reign of Happiness.” A better Junior class there never was. Some of our good members had most miraculously disappeared, but yet we were not weak. Had I time I would tell you of our chestnuting expedition, of our picnic, how Jessie’s baked beans were lost, of the pictures taken by Margaret, some of which we failed to see; and above all I should read aloud to the admiring public the names of the seven members who passed in S. Geom. It was at the end of this year that we entertained the Seniors at a reception. We worked with our best wills, and we, at least, thought success was ours. After three long years of struggle, but twenty-five of our number remain to be classed as Seniors. This is our time of great activity. Time to choose a class pin, flower, motto, invitations and cards, and time for taking advantage of every privilege granted. But Time and Tide wait for no man,” and so I must hasten my story. To give you a more vivid picture of the class as Seniors I might depict the characteristics of each one. With whom shall I begin? Well, the youngest of a family is generally an interesting character, and so he is in our family. His name you ask—why—Glenn Green—commonly called Glenni. This young son is not yet sixteen years of age. Glenni never did anything 25

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resign his office. Of course you can imagine how glad we were to receive his resignation! Russel’s particular phrases “W-Why and ‘R something’ like that” are always present in his discourses. “My poor Amus died just two weeks ago.” These were the words of our Jolly Blanche Kinner, clothed in mourner’s garb at one of our so-called bum parties. Ever since her poor Amus died, her broken heart has bounded like a rubber ball among the lads of our class, each catching it in turn, but our members will voucli for the fact that part of it, at least, rests with Russel tonight. One noon she and Margaret felt a little quarrelsome. Brooms were seized and one after the other they went flying thru the building. Here Blanche indicated her ability in scrapping, and we will all agree that she has ever since kept up her record. But what means this shaking of he building? Oh, Ben is coming, Ben is one of our six footers, weighs two hundred, (no more), has large blue eyes, black hair, mixed with gray, face as round as an apple without one blemish, consequently he is a good looking chap. Tradition tells us that people with black hair and blue eyes are likely to be smarter than others. So it is with Ben. He is a great mathematician, for whenever a problem gets under Ben’s mighty clench, it is gone. In the class room, we have been amused by the twisting of his tongue, especially when he would say “Kelo-gram” when his intention was to say kilogram. Fresh as the morning light, pretty as a tinted rose is Pearl, (sometimes called Pete). This fair maiden is very small, especially her feet for which the shoes she wears tonight came from a far distant city. She is quick to appreciate a joke, and just as quick to give one. Her musical talent is known by all! Pearl can be very sober, even when the boys kneel before her and mew like cats. Without one smile she calmly brushes their hair and softly repeats the words, “Poor Pussy,” three times in succession. If you see a man dressed in a handsome checkered suit, coming down the street, apparently walking with his shoulders and swinging his arms at the rate of three times a second, you may make up your mind this is Dick. It is this lad with a pleasant smile who defended our cause in regard to the “Coffin Pin.” Dick was ever of an argumentative turn of mind, and many a time risked his luck in arguing with our English teacher. Of all topics, he preferred religion. One day Dick seized up his opportunity to sit with Frances. Soon after, Richard forgot himself—and all else but Frances. Then came this utterace from behind the desk—“Well I gues that’s working too well.” Richard was forced to resume his own seat across the isle. 27