Durfee High School - Durfee Record Yearbook (Fall River, MA)

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E di to r- i n-C h i e f (tEORGE W. MacDiTFF Associate Editors Olei na V. Kidp Ii ii si o esjt V u n ager Loris E. Hathaway, Jr. Advertkiny Ma nager Arthur Leary Pai l McDonough Assistunt Itus inss Manager Viola Lewis -1 .v.v is taut Advert is htg Manage r A. Frank Evans Eport iiig Editor Walter Murphy Art Editor MaHEL HOWTEK Assistant Art Editors Dorothy Quinn Georoe Carreiro Lester Bakst Waverley Root Mary Dwyer Charles Dowd Joseph Cohen Jennie IIaworth Lillian Kaphtein If amorous Editors Assistaut Editors Harold Davis A A M ms M ILNE Clarissa Hyde Milton Wilcox Avis Manchester Jessie Eldkidge Gladys Mills Mildred Foelds Grace McCarthy Emile Ren a id Mabel Allison Charles Voken Alice Tripp

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THE DURFEE RECORD BOARD

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D U R F E E H E C O R D iFomimrit Perhaps some day in the far distant future, you may chance upon a, book as you rummage among the musty treasures of the dust-enveloped attic. Perhaps von may pick up this book, covered with dust, worn, old, and long forgotten Perhaps you may cast it carelessly from you, or perhaps you may take it to the light, and, with straining eyes, make out the almost illegible letters “The Durfee Record Then you will open this volume once again, and there will spring forth before your eyes, faces long since grown dim and features of the past. Then will time retrace his course, while, for a happy hour, you live again amidst your friends and companions of the class of ’20. So in the dim attic, will you sil, the book spread upon your knees, the failing rays of light tracing their straight course through the little window. Boon the light will grow dim so no longer may you see the words, no longer distinguish the features of those you have ceased to know. Yet still you will sit there, your head bowed, your heart full. And then will you remember the days of Youthb the happy, optim- istic crowd of companions—the bosom friends whom once you knew ■ flit1 pranks, the jests, the jollity of a distant life. Bo, for an hour, will you be happy in the past. And if this book brings to you but that single hour of happiness, then have our efforts not been in vain, then has our work been truly worth while. Forty years on, when afar and asunder, Parted are those who are singing today, When you look hack and forgetfully wonder What you were like in your work and your play; Tins] it may he there will often come o’er you Glimpses of notes like the catch of a song— Visions of childhood shall float then before you, Echoes of dreamland shall bear them along. —Edward Ernest Brawn,