Conshohocken High School - Echo Yearbook (Conshohocken, PA)

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Page Twelve THE BLUE AND GOLD Prophecy j One day, about the close of the afternoon, Mr. Saylor our Prof, in the mysteries of Chemistry, ap- proached me with the following un- pleasant exclamation, “Look here, your inattention of the past few days necessitates your doing a few experiments after school this eve- ning, in order to keep up with the remainder of the class.” What I said did not reach his ears. However, I arrived in the laboratory immediately after school and quite reluctantly proceeded to mix and intermix all the combina- tions known to science, as 1 thought at that time. Suddenly Mr. Saylor said, “George I must go to the faculty meeting, but continue with your work, and after you have finished you may go home.” His back was hardly turned when I gazed about the laboratory and my attention was attracted to the little closet marked, “Stay Out.” Now, I always did want to know what was in there, so here was my chance, i walked to the closet and found that the door yielded very easily. After a short exploration, during which 1 discovered some hydrophlorics. some more ics and ous’s, my eyes sud- denly rested on a small vial un- labeled and slightly corked. Ah, here was something. Now for some fun, for I didn't care, kill or cure, as I was going to find out what it was. So back to my desk I went and proceeded to analyze this mysterious fluid. I tried every action and re- action I could think of but without results. At last 1 poured some fluid which I thought to be water upon it. Suddenly a terrific explosion oc- cured and I was enveloped in a hazy pink smoke. From the dense smoke a voice exclaimed, “What have you done?” Oh, I thought, this is an awful fix I am in; here's Prof, back and finds me in this smoke. But upon gazing into the haze a second time I recognized not our Prof., but a gigantic figure like the Grecian giants of old. “George, he shrieked, “You have brought me forth from my rest under the pryra- mids of Egypt: there I have slept these thousands of years. Til par- don you if you only give me the bottle you have in your hand, so that I may drink of it and go back to my rest. “By this time I had gained courage. “No, 1 have you and now I must know all about you.” However, he again exclaimed, “George, I must go back to my rest; ask any wish, and if you free me it shall be granted.” “Ah,” thought I, here is my chance I’ll wish for an A in Chemistry this month. But no, there is that class prophecy to write. With my mind fully detei mined, I exclaimed, “If you tell me the future of the lives of my classmates. I'll free you. He paused a moment and then replied: “It’s hard, but listen. I had power before my death to force the world on into the future any number of years I desired. I still retain that power, so now stick close to me. don't ask any questions, but use your eyes, and your wish will be fulfilled. He uttered a shrill whistle, and a strange looking craft floated through the pink atmosphere. He got into the craft and, after seating myself beside him. we were whisked away. Where we flew, how we flew, how fast we flew. I do not know, but we sure did fly. Sud- denly we stopped. “Where are we now?” I inquired. “We are now on the outskirts of Conshohocken, only it is now 1946 instead of 1926, replied the geniei After safely landing, we descended from our craft and proceeded to walk toward the city. After walk- ing a short distance through a field, we were terrified by a shrill scream. In a short time I beheld Vera Kill- mer rushing wildly from a barn into a neighboring farm- house. I was soon astonished to overhear the conversation between Vera and the dairyman, who to my surprise proved to be Ray Wilmer. “Oh, Ray,” cried Vera, “That old cow k eked me in the shins. I am afraid it’s broken.” “The doggone critter,” exclaimed Ray; “Did she spill the milk.” While I was there Harold Frank- enfield drove up ii his truck with some feed. We all talked and joked about our school days,

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THE BLUE AND GOLD Page Eleven The tall slim personage of Olglena Krieble we do bequeath unto Murl Griffith. He will be up in the World some day. Clara Myer’s pugilistic nature we will to Milton Jacobson. Milt needs such an asset if he is going to be a lawyer. To Sam Kessler we do bequeath Genevieve Millhouse’s tortoise rims so he can see far into the future. Maybe this will keep him awake. Dorothy Ramsey's big brown eyes we will to Peggy Piero. She surely will give Milt a thrill now. The argumentive nature of Olive Robinson we give to Betty Yost. The remarkable dancing ability of Margaret Sampson we will to George Young. George will knock them all dead at the Junior prom next year. Ruth Staley’s avoirdupois we give to Dave Johnstone. He will make the football team next year. Catherine Sukalski’s wisdom we do devise and bequeath unto the entire Shorthand class of ’27. Marie Townsend’s speed as a typist we give to Rebecca Zook. And to all the rest of our charac- teristics and possessions, real, per- sonal or mixed, of whatever nature or kind or wheresoever situated at the time of our decease, we do here- by give, devise and bequeath them unto the Junior Class. Also to the Class of 1927 we will our hard-earned seats in chapel. The Senior Hall of Fame we do prescribe to be given to the Junior Boys. Unto Louis Sponar we do devise and bequeath the vast amount of money that is in the coveted treasury of the Klim Klub. The members of the Class of '26 leave their thanks to all the teachers who have so bravely put up with us during yur four years? struggle. And lastly we do make, constitute and appoint Archibald Glass to be executor of this, our last Will and Testament, hereby revoking all for- mer wills and testaments by us at any time heretofore made, and de- claring this to be our last Will and Testament. In witness whereof, we have here- unto subscribed our names and affixed our seals this 17th day of June, in the year of our Lord One thousand nine hundred and twenty- six. Kathryn Bulger, Florence Camp- bell, Dorothy Davies, Viola Vercoe, Anne Griffiths, Dorothy Carponet, Florence Crawford, Esther Cress- man, Alice Davenport, Mary Fennell, Rosella Gravinese, Gladys Horisk, Rose Kauffman, Anne Keown, Vera Killmer, Olglenna Krieble, Clara Hyers, Genevieve Millhouse, Dorothy Ramsay, Olive Robinson, Margaret Sampson, Ruth Staley, Catherine Sukalski, Mary Tancini, Marie Townsend. Solomon Auerbach, George Barron, John Beyer, Glenn Davis, Harold Frankenfield, Raymond L. Freas, Frank Gilinger, Paul Hannum, Donald Jones, Cecil Johnston, Ger- main LaBrecque, George Lentz, James Mellon, George Middleton, Robert Neil, John Frizer, Robert Ramsey, Paul Righter, Harry Rowan, Vernon Scott, Chester Sin- clair, Theodore A. Wiedemann, Ray Wilmer, Oscar Wood, Russell Adair, Edward Hill. Nathan Graubard, Fred Faust, Albert DiCurcio. Signed, sealed, published and de- clared by the testates within named, as their last Will and Testament, in the presence of us who at their re- quest, in their presence and in the presence of each other, have here- unto subscribed our names as wit- nesses. Witnesses: Hon. Joe Mack, Esq. Private Shimpton Squizzle Corp. Samuel Brown (African Rifles) Enoch Pinchpenny.

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THE BLUE AND GOLD Page Thirteen The genie and I resumed our journey and after a short stroll we were confronted by a gang of work- men, who were engaged in laying car tracks into the city. Among the crowd of laborers who were handl- ing the pick and shovel with great mastry were “Natie” Graubard. “Pewee' Mannum and “Fritz” Faust. After watching our friends pro- ceed with their work for a short time we were attracted by an auto- mobile, bearing the sign, “TAXI”. We quickly decided to complete our journey by auto. Upon hailing the driver, I recognized our old friend, Frank “Goat” Gilinger. “How are you, Goat?” says I. “How quickly can you convey us to the city?” “Well replied Goat, blushingly, “1 suppose I can make the next three miles in about a minute.” We were soon in the heart of the metropolis. After leaving the auto we were attracted by a voice in the distance, which seemed strangely familiar. Upon following the crowd we beheld our famous orator, Donald Jones, on a soap box discussing the merits ot a particular make of band instru- ment. Shortly, Jonesy was disturbed by a screechy voice shouting, “Solomon's fresh peanuts.” To our amazement we found it to be “Monk” Auerbach, who was busily disposing his stock. We decided to go to the theatre and therefore boarded a street car. To my surprise the conductor was Paul Righter. In a short time we arrived at the theatre. Upon ap- proaching the box office, we recog- nized the famous ticket seller, Harry Rowan. We then made our way to the entrance and discovered “Bob Ramsey taking tickets. While I was talking to Bob a sudden noise attracted eur attention. In came “Dot” Ramsay, Clara Myers, Olive Robinson and Genexieve Millhouse chattering like a bunch of squirrels. “What ails that bunch?” I asked Bob. ‘Perpetual talkitis,” was the an- swer. We then seated ourselves and the curtain rose for the first number, when Florence Shoes” Campbell came to the front to sing “So’s your Old Man.” Next was another solo entitled “Show Me the Way to Go Home” which was rendered by no other than Oscar “Ottie Wood, our famous army man. The orchestra then played “The Chewing Gum” scene from “Wrig- leyetto.” The music of this melody was exceedingly entrancing and was rendered by musicians of great note. Among them I soon distinguished Glenn Davis, Germaine LaBrecque and Chester Sinclair. Next on the program was a solo rendered by ‘Bob” Neil which was entitled 'I Cannot Sing the Old Songs.” He never could. After several long minutes of agony, we decided to leave the house of grief. My guide then took me down a side street where we passed the stage entrance. Standing there were two men in the regulation aDer-six rig. “Who are those men?” I asked my guide. “They are Theodore Wiedeman and George I entz, the worst stage door Jonnies in town,’ was the re- ply. I immediately recognized them as my old friends, “Ted” and ‘Sport Model” Lenlzie. We decided to return to our ma- chine. To our dismay we were un- able to find means of transporta- tion, but sudenly in the distance we spied a truck coming toward us. Much to our surprise we found the driver to be no other than Edward Hill. Upon our request he said that he would drive us to our destina- tion. As we drove along we passed a large palatial mansion. Ed in- formed me that It was the resi- dence of Raymond ‘Squire” Freas. Contractor and Builder, and that it had been built by him for his wife. After bidding Ed good-bye we boarded our craft and were quickly sent through the air. In a short time we were hovering over the city of Philadelphia. We soon landed and in a short time were in the center of the city. We were standing on a street corner when I recognized an old classmate, Albert DiCurcio, pass by carrying an announcement which read as follows: Champion Boxing Match for the Heavyweight Title of the World. Battling “Si Adair vs. Bulldog Barron We remembered these names ae