Cuyahoga Falls High School - Cuyahogan Yearbook (Cuyahoga Falls, OH)

Page 20 text:

18 HI-TIMES c- THE BOYS OF ’26 With Apologies to Oliver Wendell Holmes AS SEEN IN 1956 We’ve a trick, we young fellows, you may have been told, Of talking (in public) as if we were old: Walker we call “Doctor”, and Jim we call “Judge”; It's a neat little fiction, of course it’s all fudge. Zimmerman’s the “Speaker”—the one on the right; “The Mayor”, excuse me, his right name is George. Mark’s our “Member of Congress” we say when we chaff; There’s the “Reverend,” Bob’s his name,— don’t make me laugh! “Curt’s” a boy, we pretend, with a three- decker brain, That could harness a team with a logical chain; When he spoke for our manhood in syllabled fire. We called him “The Justice”, but now he’s the “Squire”. And there's a nice youngster of excellent pith: Fate tried to conceal him by naming him Smith; But he shouted a song for the grave and the grand; He’s singing “Grand Opera” all over the land! Then here’s to our boyhood, its gold and its gray. The stars of its winter, the dews of its May! And when we have done with our lip-lasting toys, Dear Father, take care of thy children, The Boys! —Bert Ewart. “WHY?” (Speculations Coneerninij Some oj Our Family Men) For weeks, aye, for months, our minds and imaginations have been tormented as to the why and wherefore of many characteristics of our faculty men. Can anyone explain to us why Mr. Roberts always rubs one hand against the other while he speaks? We have pondered long and seri- ously on this but have never arrived at a defi- nite conclusion. Is it to stimulate the flow of thought or is it merely to stimulate the flow of blood so that his hands will become warm? We shrug our shoulders and shake our heads—the problem is too deep. And why, may we ask, does Mr. Smith always seem to hug himself when he talks? Is it habit ? Or is his favorite song “I Love Me?” We wonder! Ir. Yost’s blush is noted throughout the school. Indeed, we are quite sure that some day it will become a school tradition. What causes it? It is very becoming of course, but we wonder if it isn’t rather inconvenient at times. Another question we have wrestled with in vain is how Mr. Bopp acquired such dignity of manner. Did he really acquire it through zealous effort, or is it an inherent quality? We suspect that it has been acquired as an asset for his profession. In fact, we have every reason to believe that he has not always been so dignified. At college (so we have heard) his nickname was “Isaac”. Now the word “Isaac” means laughter, which doesn’t harmonize so well with dignity unless, of course, it was dignified laughter. Why is Mr. Preston perpetually optimistic? Doesn’t he ever have moments of depression? And why does Mr. Cruikshank always appear so calm and unruffled? Doesn't he ever get visibly excited? We sigh in despair, for, though we puzzle and rack our bewildered minds, these ques- t.'ons still remain unsolved riddles. —Lucy Brady. WILLY PLAYS FOOTBALL Sing a song of football, Carcass full of bumps, Willy’s jaw is swollen, No, it’s not the mumps. Willy is a half-back, It’s the pace that kills; Father’s at the office Counting doctor bills. Mother’s in convulsions, Worrying for fear That her darling Willy.’ll Lose his other ear. Sister’s making bandages, Aunty’s making splints, W.’Ily takes it bravely— Do-sn’t even wince When the grizzled surgeon

Page 19 text:

- HI-TIMES 17 !V THE FIRESIDE The firelight flickered and glowed in the gloom Sending strange, fantastic shadows into the room; The fire danced and crackled in unbounded mirth And the embers glowed as they dropped on the hearth. 1 seemed to see in the firelight, the days of long ago, When in care-free youth I knew neither care nor woe. 1 closed my eyes and smiled in extreme con- tent, And dreamed of the days that had long since been spent. 1 lived once again in the dear days of the past, Then I came to myself with a start at last; 1 shivered with the chill that comes to the old And the fire, like my youth, had grown dim and cold. —Margaret McKinley. FRESH IES IN GENERAL Once there was a freshie green, As green as any 1 have seen. He came to Falls Hi full of vim, ’Cause nothing scared him—“no not him.” But, oh, the throngs of girls and boys, They were wet blankets to half his joys, He’d been a “big toad in a small puddle,” But now he found himself i:i a muddle. And then the miles and miles of hall And rooms galore—but that’s not all! T'he lockers where you jammed and jammed And go the door on your fingers slammed! When everybody shoves to get through, They never th’nk of poor little you. Did you ever hear a mournful shout Just when the bell rang, ’cause the books fell out ? A shout it was—it couldn’t he other— For a FRESHIE can’t swear as good as h's brother. Now where is the freshie, you may ask. He’s wearing a dignified “Senior’s” mask. And he’s as “CLEVER” as he thought at first, For he’s appeased the great book thirst. But if he goes to college for more He'll have the same trouble he had before! SO DON’T GET YOUR HEAD TOO HIGH ABOVE GROUND OR YOU MAY STUB YOUR TOE AND COME 'FUMBLING DOWN! —Leona Taylor. What Does Mr. Roberts Think About in Assembly? Every Monday morning at ten o’clock the three upper classes of Falls Hi are called together for assembly. Mr. Preston leads the student body in song, after which Mr. Roberts makes a few announcements and then gives the floor to Mr. Richardson for the re- maining time. It is during Mr. Richardson’s speech that we wonder what Mr. Roberts is thinking about. If we could read his in- nermost thoughts they would probably run as follows: “Well! 1 am glad these announce- ments are over, they sure are a bother, some- times. I wonder what the weather will be tomorrow. 1 suppose it will be clear, but I wouldn’t dare say so to the student body. I wonder why Mr. Yost always goes to sleep, surely Mr. Richardson’s talk is interesting to- day. 1 wonder if I have enough coal in for the winter. Gee! 1 hope 1 don’t have to run to the store as soon as 1 get home tonight. Why doesn’t that girl sit up in her seat? Those Seniors certainly have poor taste. I wonder if their party will he a success? 1 do hope those rough necks will stay away this year and not interfere with other people's pleasure. But I remember when I was young. I used to do the same thing and I’ll bet Mr. Richardson has, too. Oh—can’t Mr. Bopp see that those boys are disturbing the whole assembly? How can some people be so blind and yet see where they are going? I hope Richard doesn’t get the chicken pox; I hear there are quite a few cases around town. There Mr. Richardson made an error—he said far- ther instead of further. I wonder if any of the students noticed it. Some of those Sopho- mores are worse than the 8-B’s. Just see that boy chewing gum. 1 wonder what brand he is advertising? Look at those Juniors talk- ing. Sometimes I wonder why they publish a newspaper in this town. 1 hope my wife has lemon pie for supper because I sure do like pie. Look at those boys walking right out. and there goes Mrs. Smith, too. Such nerve! Well! My mistake, 1 guess the assembly- period is over. There’s another half hour well spent. —Martha Todd.

Page 21 text:

HITIMES 19 tv Probed into his brain, In his bold attempt to Make him well again. For it is admitted Willy’s not himself Since the final practice Put him on the shelf. First they smashed his sternum, Then they wrenched his knee. Gouged out both h.'s eye-balls So lie cannot see ; But his Adams’ Apple Tramped on by toes, Frescoed Willy’s features And flattened out his nose. Then to show his courage Willy let the bunch Hit him with a hammer Where he stowed his lunch. Willy wasn’t yellow When he hit the line— Willy didn’t bellow Tho’ they broke his spine. Said it didn’t matter Tho’ his teeth were out, And his tongue was swollen So he couldn’t shout. Willy did his duty, Tho’ he’s somewhat lame, Since his feeble efforts Won his team the game. —Esther Twiggs. TEAM WORK 2-8-TI 'I'he Quarterback’s quivering voice rang As it reverberated throughout the crowded stand. With eyes blazing, crouched low, with ex- tended hands, Received the ball, pivoted gracefully, and through the line he rammed. To meet him there a Stonewall? No! For his line had gallantly executed the signal call. Victory? Yes! For he and his line had stormed the enemy’s lair. Midst cheering and the band’s blare. Trooped they, the team, to their showers with Victory won sweet and fair. A Football Enthusiast. — Eddie” Nylander. THE MIDNIGHT WORKOUT Canto I. ’Twas midnight on the campus, Not a teacher was in sight; The trees swayed in the moonlight And the octette felt just right. Canto II. ’Twas moonlight on the gridiron When the charger changed its place, And the ticket booth went over As the charger moved o’er space. Canto III. The clouds obscured the moonlight, When the pump was putin place; Then the dilapidated shutters, Were placed to suit the octette’s taste. Canto IV. The clouds still obscured the moonlight. When the antiques were placed in sight. The wheelbarrow climbed the ladder, And the sleigh was rigged up right. Canto V. The moon was breaking through the clouds On the clock, showed a dreary time When that wonderful Overland wreck Went past the “drive slow” sign. Canto VI. 'The dawn broke o’er the campus And I he octette looked a sight For now the work was finished And day drove away the night. By O. Canu Guess. —George Kline. —Murk Hale. —Leonard Walker. FUTURE OF TENNIS Time was when tennis was regarded as something to be kept under cover by tbe thick neck gentry, and those who played it were considered “molly coddles.” The terms “deuce” and “love” never seemed to convince the red blooded he-man that the game was anything but an effeminate waste of time. But all that has gone out along with the back bar and brass rail. Today the male takes his tenuis straight along with his morning cof- fee and rolls, a clean shirt, or a fresh shave. As a matter of course, you know. Men like Mauric McLaughlin, “Bill” Tilden and “Bill” Johnson are the boys who turned the trick. Then along comes C. C. Pyle with an ef- fort to professionalize the sport. This may or may not do the game good. On the