Delaware Valley College - Cornucopia Yearbook (Doylestown, PA)

Page 29 text:

S echel . . . Translated, Sechel refers to brains or intelligence. At Farm School it has assumed the propensity of referring to people obsessed with peculiarities; and Ray is certainly living up to his title. He has two obsessions. The first and foremost is his mania for propagation (plant propagation). Sechel can be found at any time of the day or night making cuttings of every plant conceivable. During field trips to neighboring greenhouses and nurseries, he would stuff his pockets with everything new which he chanced upon. Science is his watchword! In fact he is so scientific that the new varieties are named before they are generated. Since the desired results of his experiments never mate- rialize, they all bear the same name — Solomania. The second obsession of which he is possessed is that of diplomacy. He is second only to Handlesman in this respect. Ray has been active on the Gleaner Staff ever since his entrance to the school. In his senior year he worked himself up to the editorial staff of the magazine, beside class president, band member and council president. He resigned from the latter position after a short time as it seriously interfered with his numerous other activities. Ray is a good plantsman but a much better poet. It ' s true that he is very licentious in his writings; but after all that is how all new trends in any field originate. One thing we must say for him, and that is he will try anything once; though too often he does not stick to what he starts. The Student Council was a place where many of his intrigues became part of school legislation. Because Ray is the youngest of our class, people are placed under the delusion that he is an innocent, naive kid: Ray exploited this advantage-to the utmost. Although he is continuing his studies of Ornamental Horticulture at Ohio Stale Uni- versity, we are not certain whether Sechel will be a plantsman, poet, or businessman.

Page 28 text:

r au J oll omon . . .

Page 30 text:

Sbr.J(, I heard your prayer last night, my sons, I heard you sobbing loud. May the good Lord cause Hi s light to shine And drive away the cloud. I saw you kiss the withered flower You found in no man ' s land. With tender care your heart caressed it, Torn petals in blood-stained hands. May the time pass soon for you my sons, And the gory battles cease, With the reign of truth, the rule of right, A world of lasting peace.