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Page 31 text:
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whose life we record not one stain. This is Jessie Daniels. She seldom made a mistake in Virgil, but if she forgot a word or two, she would cough and cough till she coughed it up. She was never known to be a stumbling block to any one except the time she caused the poor little freshman girl to fall over her feet. Our class has never found it necessary to purchase a phonograph for amusement. We have with us Harriet Powell, or shall we humor her and call her Hattie? Hattie displayed a sly, timid, nature in the class room, but outside she was very different. Her only fault was that she wanted to talk the whole blessed time. However, her conversations were very good, always witty, full of life, interesting and practicable. Her insatiable appetite never left her. Prancing across the assembly room, with a happy-go-lucky air— bringing her “whoopie girls ye got yer Virgil?” comes Midget, or Margaret Josephine Cummins. Beautiful black hair, and those large blue dreamy eyes of hers strike us with awe. But as she speeds a-long she leaves far behind in her trail, “many a hapless victim of her charming beauty.” Margaret preferred sitting with Robert in Latin Class. Everything went along perfectly until Robert took the liberty of laying his poor aching head on Midget’s shoulder. Quite a combat was on its way when a low subdued voice behind the desk remarked—“Why Robert I didn’t know you were so vicious. Perhaps you better occupy another seat.” Bob smiled sweetly but thereafter took a separate seat. Bob, you must know, is tall and slim, of oratory fame. In his course, he has escaped Charybdis on the one side, Scylla on the other, and has sailed directly thru leaving only those traces which are deeply imprinted upon the sands of time. Robert has made quite a history. Many things I might tell about him, but my space is limited, so I will only mention how one day he utterly forgot his question when the instructor unintentionally called him Julia, and how he immediately responded when Margaret had been called upon, but I suppose he thought it all the same. Just to see him eating pie at our Junior picnic would have made you hold your sides. Bob is liked by all, and shall ever be remembered as our valedictorian, by the many times he has saved our class from failure. “’Tis quiet effort makes the world, Not noise, nor strife, nor show.” Unfortunately this applies to but one member of our class—Ruth Titus, who was always so sweet and good natured. Her intellect was sharp and her memory was a remarkable charcteristic. But Ruth didn’t always accept invitations, one especially, of which I remember. Bernice Chapman would hide behind a classmate for fear of being seen, and from fright of speaking she would assure the teacher she didn’t know anything about the topic. Bunny possessed that “excellent quality in woman” a calm, subdued voice. Our class hair dresser favored her of all others in dressing hair. 29
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Page 30 text:
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Before my mind appears another maiden. Her name is Mae Jones. Tradition tells us that blonds are more likely to be weak minded than brunettes, but Mae is an exception to this rule. This fair lass could solve the most difficult arithmetical problems, unfold the most complex S. Geom. propositions, for which she gained fame, and could translate Virgil’s Aeneid with such ease you might think she was reading English. This same maiden proved herself a royal hostess at a Hallowe’en party given at her pleasant home in Oklahoma. Coming far down the highway, I see two people slowly approaching. Do I know them? Why yes—It’s Frances Joslyn—but the other? O a man! But he belongs not to our fold. Frances aroused our suspicion when she told us she would have need of a position for only a few weeks after the close of school, then ah me! where will Frances be? Our class possesses one great debater, need I tell his name? Yes, ’tis Frank Thayer, better known as “Cacti.” We have no record of Frank's falling over a telephone wire, but it is probable that some day he will meet this fate. Frank was our treasurer and for this reason was never dunned for dues. In spite of all he could do, his tongue would twist and unintentionally would utter such a statement as this—“Lord Dunmore was born in 1809 and died in 1732.” Frances Dean’s activities are not confined to the class room. She is a society girl and is stylish from the top of her Merry widow hat to the sole of her dainty shoe. She always behaved in a most ladylike manner in class, save when overcome by the witty remarks of her friend and seat-mate Marne. Frances is not as interested in the gas business, as she pretends to be, as in the coal (Cole) business. The cheerful smile of Jessie Sanford confronts me. Large blue eye, pretty pink cheeks, pearly teeth, and curly hair make up her important features. Jessie’s bashful timidity was discovered one night at a party. We were indulging in the game known as “Forfeits” and whenever it was Jessie’s turn to be kissed she hastily departed to the hall, then returned with her cheeks red instead of pink. Next comes our milliner, dress maker, hair dresser, and mama’s girl. This is our sturdy brother Carl Hayward—a good looking chap, given to cute sayings and a most becoming blush. He would sacrifice a hundred base ball games for the enjoyment of a crowd of lasses. At one of the parties he was garbed in the guise of a woman and assumed the name of Aunt Dina! There is only one fault to find with Carl, and that is he would take Junior girls to parties. Standing beside me, I see a member who always had her lessons, was never late to school, never displayed unladylike behavior, and on 28
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Page 32 text:
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Last, but, by no means least, Carl Wilson our President! He has obtained the nickname Joby, by inheritance. Whenever Joby broke a test tube in the laboratory, silently and slowly would he creep to the waste box, there drop the broken article, and then return just as meekly to his own place. His pictures prove conclusively his affection was for girls. But Carl was our “Big Stick and will always be, remembered as such. How loyally and faithfully he labored for the welfare of our family! Now, dear friends, what is your conclusion? You have heard something of our individuals, but in general, what is your conception of our class of 1908? Far up in the heavens, written in letters of gold is the word, “Greatness.” To obtain this, is the aim of this quiet unassuming 1908 class. It is the greatness of simple honesty that we seek. In the business world, in society, in the world of scholars, in the home, wherever one may find our works in the coming years, may we be an honor to our Alma Mater. So we press on and say : The mountain side’s been rugged Which has led to heights of fame. But we’ve climbed and struggled upward And chiseled out our name. The way was rock and thorn strewn And many a foe we’ve faced, But each step has helped us upward, And the goal is worth the race. Maude Bruner. 30
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