Cranston High School - Cranstonian Yearbook (Cranston, RI)

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AMlllllllllllllillllllllillmllllll EIU!illlllllllflllllllilllllIIIWWY ' i ' V Class of l925 CLASS Morro Knowledge l8 the key to every door OFFICERS President RAYMOND ELMER JENKINS Vzce Preszdent Treasurer Secretary FRANCES BOWERMAN GRACE ELEANOR LAW LEAH MARION SPENCER Elecutrve C ommzttee IVAH ELLSWORTH TOWNE HARRY JOSEPH SKLUT RAYMOND ELMER JENKINS GRAILE BLEANOR LAW ERANCES BOWERMAN LEAH MARION SPENCER E S E I ., - - n 3 2 - - - ar - 9: , , .- - - - 4 qu I - I , 1 2 . .- an Y ,- an A .A A . : . . -, , 1 . . , an V- L ' , - - . .. S ul K - A - f 1

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Cranstonian Board GRACE LAW BARNES ELINOR MARGERUM RXYGLER GWENDOLYX PETTIS LHAH SPENCIQR Sl-ZELEN CONKLIN COOK TH ELMA LIXSFOTT

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. l'- I l ll 1 N 1 Vu, f..-... The Reunion It was one of those hot, misty nights in late July. Not being able to sleep, I got up and sat by the win- dow. Suddenly in the distance, I saw a banner shining out through the pale lavender mist, surrounded with green lights, which bore the inscrip- tion Class of 1925-C. H. S. At once I recalled that it was the night of the reunion, which I had almost forgotten. Dressing hurriedly, I rushed out, and before I realized it, had reached the athletic field of the new high school. The program was well under way. Raymond Jenkins, our class presi- dent of l925, held the floor. Char- lotte Stickney told us of her news- paper work: Dot Jones, with Ruth Spink and Bill Moody, gave a few physical training exercises: and Evelyn Arnold and Betty Dennis sang. Where's Grace Law? Right here! Just a minute and I'll tell you how to cook-anything you want to know, but Frank Jen- nison is paying the last installment of his class dues. Elinor Margerum explained in trigonometry just how she remem- bered the, date of the reunion. and Eloise Tabor read us some of her Latin Poems, while Evelyn O'Brien, so glad at seeing everybody, could do nothing but clap and laugh. Harry Sklut-next! Harry arose, told us of his new medicine, a sure cure for all ills, and gave us each a sample bottle. Where's Harry Seelen? Oh, he couldn't be here, but he - f' 5521 . A i Z '-'agua T9 L:gif':5?-ii-t..:r:i:siSdafi,m f,EFihu'2'f'5 :3-L sends his most diplomatic regards to all. Everything was coming to an end, when Christine Whitmore said, Where's Leah? I bet she's off somewhere with her mouth turned down at the corners as usual. No, she isn't here., You know she took up the homely art of teach- ing, and had to go to a conference to-night: but I found, in her scrap book this poem that was written in 1925: and under it was scribbled, 'I didn't have the courage to put this into the Cranstonian BoX.' It dis- plays our feelings as our Senior year drew to a close. The title is: A SENIOR'S PLEA Why must I write of the things that we did. Not the things that we wanted to do? Of the dreams that we dreamt and the castles we built Thar sometime perhaps will come true? Why must I tell you we dwelt in the dust When our souls were gone up to the stars? Why must I tell you we failed, as we must, Who aspired above bricks and street cars? Why can't I say that the hopes that we had, And the knowledge we never could use, And the unassigned lessons we learned with- out marks Are the truths that we never can lose? Why must we claim outward follies and waste, Not the dreams that we never discuss? For masters and mates, not the things that we did. But the things that we dreamed-That was us! L. SPENCER, June. '25, '.w?1 .1!T ?kL..a Q T ' . .. I .ra-Cfrrt