East High School - Orient Yearbook (Rochester, NY)

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proverbial slipper to a small culprit while wails floated forth on the air. Next door, Anna Parker, a dressmaker, was working in her garden. We soon reached the Walden School, which was conducted on strictly new principles. Each pupil's scat was a well-padded chair, or lounge, and there were intermissions for yawning. On the way back we saw Ralph Dublin, the railroad magnate, playing golf. Then I met Frederica Summerhavs—no longer Summerhays—and she promptly announced, “You arc going to Burbank Young’s wedding with me this minute, and there I was in the great flower-decorated church, listening to the organ pealing under the touch of Gladys Wilkins. Then the bride, whom I recognized, and Burbank Young appeared, and Fred Remington, the newspaper man, and Walter Hamilton as ushers and Esther Payne as maid of honor followed. I heard Herbert Soule performing the ceremony and Edwin Appel, the best man, sobbing loudly. Then all was over, and I was on my way with Frederica to the performance of the great play that night. On the way, she told me about Florence Drumm, Clara Kaiser, Marie Seifert, and A Hie Williams, who were running a co-operative cottage in the country for fresh air children. Bur now we bad reached the theater, and taken our places next to Ruth Levy and her husband. File balcony tickets were three dollars, and no wonder, Martha Jane Judson starred, Louise Waters played a comic part, and Margaret Schaft was a pronounced success. The dashing hero was Willard Clark, Kenneth Henderson the dark-haired villain, and Louis Arentz proved irresistibly funny in a humorous role. Bur amid the lights and music, I grew drowsier, and drowsier. Dimly now 1 saw Mr. Frederick Betz and his wife witnessing the play from the nearc t box. Now all was darkness. Then 1 awoke. The morning sun was flooding the face of the Sphinx, v v which had given me the g’orious dream. I was no longer lonely, but happy in t t thinking of the fortunate class of June, 12. “And just as the Sphinx, I thought, “has stood out a glorious figure t t through all the ages, so may the name and fame of our class of June, 12, forever r r remain in the world.” And one of the stone eyes winked. Julia A. Rogers. 17

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As I proceeded, I perceived the familiar figure of George Augustus Haskins swinging quickly into a building. Over the entrance I read, Matrimonial Agency.” “Has Gus come to this?” I sighed. As I passed by, Anna Newman at the door gave me a card. My hands were limp with astonishment, as I saw thereon the face of my old friend Ethel West, and read, “I GUARANTEE TO FIND YOUR AFFINITY, Chaperonage, Encouragement, Poems to Order.” When I reached Adelias I was shown in, and told that she was out in the new auto her husband had bought from the Garson Lo. While awaiting her, I picked up the World's Work, and found Abe Gins- burg’s picture among the rich men of Wall Street, and also the life of Sadie H. Rose, the great worker among the poor, by Cornelia Evans, the noted novelist. Adelia had returned, and we had just greeted each other, when Lela Brown and Winifred Rauschenbusch, who were electioneering, were shown in. They had no sooner gone, than the bell rang again. This time it was Harold MacCallum as an agent of Goo-inc, a new breakfast food. On the sample package we found that Ward Gerber was inventor and manufacturer. At Last we began to talk, and Adelia told me that Valma Clark was the founder of a girls’ seminary, on the Hudson. Grace Worthington was principal there, and Myrtle Bittner was teacher of mathematics, though she wore a diamond. Isabel Wallace, happily married, lived nearby. When 1 enquired after Hazel Wundcr, I learned that she was dean of Mt. Holyoke, where Eleanor Lerner was a foreign language teacher. Our conversation passed to Gcrritt Weston, the artist of the day, whose portrait of Augusta Miller. New York’s social leader, had won him fame. I left Adelia’s and took a car. There whom should I meet but Russell West who, he told me, was doing solo work in a large church. When I enquired about Ralph Armstrong, Russell laughed. “Armstrong works,” he said, “in a hammock factory. His job is to lie in the hammocks to test them.” As I looked out of the window I saw Robert Barnes bossing a gang of laborers in fine style. Russell informed me that Charles Heath and Walter Attridgc were enjoying country life as scientific farmers. We passed Linda Schneider’s bird store, and Paul Brown 5c Co., Florists, quickly'. 1 had time only to glance at one ad. in the car, which ran, “Mint-O Gum, Hughes Smith Co.,” before I got off. Outside the court house among an unusual crowd, 1 recognized Louis Foulkes. the rich coffee man, and member of the Chamber of Commerce. “It’s a great day for Ezra!” he cried, and explained, “Hale is the lawyer on the defense.” “Defense? Of whom?” I asked. “Why Silvcrnail, America’s great author and humorist! On trial for breach of promise. A fine case! Rexford Morris is judge, and Edwin Costich clerk. The court is packed.” When Louis told me that Louise McCarthy was his secretary, I asked him if he had any more news of the class of June, 12. Only that Arthur Gosnell makes another Might in his aero’ tonight,” he answered. “If Frank is convicted Art will take him straight to Australia.” By this time I was so used to surprises that I took it as a matter of course when Marian Phelps hailed me from her waiting auto, and bade me enter. Marian had come from calling on Margaret Cox, an old friend of hers, and was going to the Walden School to bring her young son home. We passed Hammele’s moving picture show, and DeNeve’s shoe store, where Mary Poliakoff was book-keeper, and sped into the suburbs. Through the window of a fine home I caught a glimpse of Victor Roberts, applying the 16

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ILesft ©He Jforget X X C r fllma abater Sweet be thy memory, High Scliool of ours; Fair be thy destiny, Fadeless thy flowers; Hearts that have loved thee Have won in life’s fight Names that we honor Thy standard holds bright. Our Alma Mater dear, To thee we sing; May all thy future years, New honors bring; May friends thy banner raise Thy foes grow less, All love and praise To our old E. H. S. X X 'Cfjc Scalp Bancc With big chief Sully and his band Of fearless Orient Braves, We’ve jumped the reservation We’re on the warpath looking for Some pale face scalps to raise, Have heap big celebration We’ve hit the trail, yi, yi, yi, Blood in our eye, yi, yi, yi, Our curdling veils arc ringing, When the game is done and we have won Their tops knots we will wave, Back to our wigwam bringing. Chorus Yes, we'll scalp ’em, scalp ’em, scalp ’em, Make 'em bite the dust; We’ll smear up their backs you bet, Beat them worse than they’ve been yet, We’re up to the minute, always in it And we’ll rub it in; So while we yell, they’ll play like—well, Old Orient will win. U )c Orient Koto CCtoto With flags and banners waving We’re on the job once more; Down the field we’ll go sweeping As we roll up a score; We’ve loosed our Orient bull-dogs, And soon you will hear us roar— Bow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, Bow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, Oh, we’ll more than make that bunch feel sore. Chorus Plunging to the goal They sink their teeth right in with vim; Each man’s a wonder, They never will give in; Bow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, Ne’er falter, crash right on, Oh we’ll triumph once again; Two thousand strong wc yell— Bow, wow, wow, for old Orient’s men. When the game is over, victorious we’ll be We’ll return rejoicing to our borne by the Genesee; And through the dusky twilight, Our fires of victory will gleam; Bow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, Bow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, As we proudly cheer that Orient Team. 18