Decatur Catholic High School - Tattler Yearbook (Decatur, IN)

Page 24 text:

SENIOR CLASS HISTORY 'Twas a day in Indian summer, When the sun shone brightly down On the stores, the streets, the churches On the schools throughout the town. Lo, it kissed some little children Scampering off to school, To learn to read, to write, to count, To observe the golden rule. ' Little children, rosy-cheeked, Happy-faced, and gay, Plunging right into the game That Life would have them play. They learned of men, of days gone by, Of other things quite newg They learned that best of all it was To grow up good and true. With every day that swiftly went And passed into the years, The children had their little joys And shed their childish tears. But all those days are mem'ries now, That are treasured with the yearsg Today we view the happy youths As graduation nears. And as they trudge the paths of Life, The roads, both low and high, They'll always look with happy hearts On schooldays long gone by. When into the woods He came.

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SENIOR CLASS PROPHECY I'm old and gray and feeble now, My eyes are growing dim, It warms my heart to live again My schooldays, long gone by. We were a merry, happy lot, The Class of '34, We've fared quite well, since we Last saw the old school door. The most successful, I believe, Is Tater Knapke, He ably runs the nation's wheels, He's President, you see. Mary Wolpert, tiny maid, She of the mighty brain, She kept on studying chemistry, She's teaching it in Maine. Why, yes, there was a Robert Cook, Loved to experiment And after years of IIOIIQSI toil He's found an element. Alma Gabel's working hard, For children of the poor, She runs an orphanage, I hear, Upon a Scottish moor. Rosemary Rumschlag struggled on At poetry and prose, She wrote for magazines and such, And she to fortune rose. Johnny Carroll doctors ills, He cures all leprosy, And from the depths of his big heart, Does all in charity. Patsy Fullenkamp became, A dancer of renown, She danced in England, I am told, Before the king and crown. I often listen in with joy, He comes on just at noon, When Herby Foos' deep bass voice, Lets out a merry tune. Out of the Woods my Master came, Content with death and shame