Conneaut High School - Tattler Yearbook (Conneaut, OH)

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10 THE TATTLER [Dedicated to “Ye Seniors When you’re “Tagged out,’’ do rhyme Tho’ts bedraggled every time, Consequence resulting When you waken, be awake, And a dip of winter take, Happiness consulting. When disheartened, never cry, Lavender, if left to lie Sweetens things above it. In the morning shy and sweet. Hope and 'heart each other greet. Murmuring, “we love it!” There’s the time to weave a rhyme, Ford the stream, With the strength to do it. Common tasks of every day Gleam with iridescent ray If we only knew it. “Quoth the raven, nevermore!” Perched above Poe Edgar’s door. On that “midnight dreary”— It was black and lean and lank. Took no stock in Sunny bank, He was “worn and weary.” of C. H. S. and 'presented to the Merry “Tattler.”] not When bedraggled, dry your wit, Then, in restful silence sit With the larger poet, Catch t'he laughter o! “the brook, You can hear it thru his book, And your heart will know it. Leave your lavender to lie Over night, to calmly die As the twilight shadows. With the morrow, be awake. And a course in music take From the birds and meadows. Birds astir to fill and trill, and blush upon the hill. And a song within you. This, the hour to be awake, Give your pose a gentle shake. Sing, “for all that’s in you!” Serious Seniors, juvenate! Early talent consecrate To the best endeavor. Rhyme it, when you feel a thrill Of the pleasure that can fill Hearts with hope forever! RHYMING WITH THE MORNING. »» the mountain climb, Hush Sit with Longfellow awhile. Let the others cast a smile. Find the worth of Cowper On the “Sofa” rest your bones— Give your fears to David Jones On an early “sleeper.” ELIZABETH S. BROWN, Jan. 31, 1913. Gl'ILTY CONSCIENCES. Recently, an awful crime was perpetrated in our midst. Two of our number were commanded to stay for forty minutes, and thereby hangs the tale. The culprits escaped. But—their consciences smote them and they were unable to sleep nights. The thought of how they had not done their duty preyed upon their minds, and they believe in the adage chat “Confession is good for the soul,” so they have written the story of the misdeed and hope that by telling it to others, their consciences may be eased. They hotpe that it will be a lesson to others never to shirk when given forty minutes after 3:10 p. m. This is the confession: “It was a few weeks ago that a fearful thing happened to us. We

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C. J. FliEW, The Florist, State St. Phone 9 for him, so imagine his discomfiture when she said, “I’m sure glad to meet you, come across—shake hands and we are friends forever.” He was anything but impressed by the greeting, but he thought that perhaps that was the way one of her standing greeted you—so that you would feel at home. Before leaving Jack had promised her, that he would come the next afternoon and play her a few sets of tennis as she had remarked, that of all things, she sure was wild about tennis. On the vay home Jack realized that he had not been thanked for returning the mesh bag—but then perhaps she—well, yes, she probably did forget—anyway he knew she was glad to get it back. Promptly at two the next afternoon Mr. Jack Wayne, Jr., stepped to the door of Miss Cameron’s home and as Miss Cameron answered the t’ng herself they immediately left for the tennis court. As the court was strange to him she decided that she had better serve first. “Are you ready? Well, I sure got you that time. Again? That was a sticker. Take it from me—I'm some player and it rwill take more than you, Jackie, dear, to show me the game of tennis. Come across—that one was in a mile—no off grounds about that. Well, deuce it then, if you will. What you givin’ us? vour ad? Well, not by a long shot—Whee! You’re stung! Shall we play more? No! All right, just as you say, not as I care,” and she started to. sing in a stagy voice, “Be my little baby Bumble Bee, Buzz around, Buzz around.” Jack had not yet despaired for he thought that good tennis players perhaps talked that way during the game, but uipon reaching the porch she started in again, “By the way, Bo—where did you find my money cart? Right where I hopped into the Taxi, eh? Just what I told Jimmy, me chauffeur. ’Tvvas sure fine in you to bring it to me. I’m glad ! met you—Coming to play tennis tomorrow? Going away? I’ve got you—You'll write me won’t you? Come off—none of that! Sure you’ve got the time and two cents for a stamp once in a while won’t wreck your salary. Oh! I get you all right. Be good—give my love to your mother and little sister, and if you ever hit the burg again give me a lift, and I’ll show you the ins and outs of tennis.” Jack was a disappointed fellow when he reached his room. After hurriedly packing his suit case—and writing a note for his cousin, which he left with the valet, he departed for his home town. As soon as he arrived home, he went to see his friend Betty Durmand. Strangely enough, she seemed good enough for him, even if she did say once in a while— “Ain’t that just too grand?” Some time later—while engaged in reading the newspaper in his new home, he came across an article that read like this: Something Fine. The act at tihe Republic this week is especially good. Miss Rose Cameron is fine in her Bowery Act. You can’t afford to miss this. It’s a treat. At last, Jack Wayne understood. BY RUTH DORMAN, ’14. Prof. Smith asked one of his Bookkeeping pupils to please put away a toy with which he was playing because, he said, “I have to run a nursery at home and I don’t want to have one here, too.”

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C. .J. FREW, The Florist, State St. Phone 11 went into a certain class and when we woke up, we discovered that we had both been decreed a term of forty minutes in the pie house. We decided we did not want to stay and tried to find a way out. At last, after thinking so hard that we were nearly exhausted we thought of a way. Going into the prison with sad laces, we sat down and began to study hard. The teacher that had sentenced us to the term of hard labor came in with a list of the convicts who had been sentenced, desiring to make sure they were all there. The names of those who were there were marked off. Now was our chance. Our names had been marked off the list as those who were serving their punishment. We got up, tiptoed out and down stairs without being seen. We then quickly put on our hats and coats and ‘beat it’ for home. “The next day we were rather nervous when we went to class because we knew if we were discovered we would have to serve two nights. But the teacher never said a word.” “The teacher never said a word.” If the teacher had said a word and made them stay two nights, this sad tale would never have been told. The victory was not as sweet as they had anticipated and they continue to live in fear, for if they are fcund out—what direful penalty will fall upon them? CHAPEL SPEAKERS. We have been unusually fortunate in the past few weeks in having several most interesting and entertaining people talk to us in chapel. Mr. H. C. Leavitt, the artist of the famous painting of the Lord’s Supper, which was exhibited in Conneaut, gave a delightfully interesting talk on art and travel, drawing from his own life and experiences. Another side of life was revealed to us by Mr. Yamamoto, a Japanese student w:ho has spent a number of years in America and who expects to return to Japan to teach his countrymen American ways. Mrs. Katherine Gebhardt, state superintendent of instruction of temperance in schools, spoke to the High School about the temperance question in its different phases. Mrs. Gebhardt has a very pleasing personality and her talk was much enjoyed. AN INTERESTING LECTURE. On February 12, Dr. Bancroft gave a very interesting lecture, in the High School Auditorium, on the assassination of Abraham Lincoln, of w’hich he was an eye witness. EXCHANGES. Among the exchanges that we have received are The Rayen Record, Youngstown; Scimitar, Austinburg; Wariona. Portage, Wie.; Echo, East Hampton, Mass.; Magnet, Butler, Pa. Miss Hodge to the Virgil Class—“When you descend to the lower regions you will learn the difference between our Hell and the ancients’ Hades.”