East High School - Tiger Yearbook (Cincinnati, OH)

Page 143 text:

9 TODAY, AS SEEN TOMORROW -1- 11-f 1111--'-ff '11--1111V- 1- -1--11--1 f - + HE was a dear little lady, was Aunt Louise. Her hair was silvery white and dressed in a fashion of long ago. Every one loved her and came to her for advice which was accepted sooner or later. She rocked back and forth in the big roomy rocker on the front porch, with a far away expression in her twinkly blue eyes. She was suddenly interrupted by girlish laughter, and as she looked up, she saw her grand niece come hurrying up the walk. I have the most cunning thing to show you, Auntie, she cried. As she spoke she handed an open memory book to her aunt. It was a little sketch, drawn by one of Ruth's school mates. Aunt Louise smilingly surveyed it and then idly turned the pages, the far away expression again in her eyes. This reminds me of my high school days, she said. 'fHere, dear, take this key and run up stairs and bring down that black leather case in the cedar chest in my room. Ruth willingly obeyed and soon returned carrying the black case. Aunt Louise took it from her and drew out an oblong box which she handed to Ruth, who wonderingly opened it. There was a brown suede book, with the large gold letters, The Girl Graduate, written across the top. f'Why, Aunt Louisef' she cried, Hit is a memory book, too! She perched herself on the arm of the big rocker and leaned eagerly over the book. On the fly leaf was Aunt Louisels name and the date, nineteen and twenty, East High School, beneath it. ' 'fDid you graduate from East, too, Auntie? exclaimed Ruth in surprise. Yes, indeed, ours was the first class, answered her Aunt proudly. Ruth eagerly began to turn the pages. The first few were filled with snap- shots ofthe school and ofthe pupils and teachers. Some of the pictures showed plainly that the school was not yet completed. The old stadium wasn't finished, was it? cried Ruth. How strange! No, neither the stadium nor the gymnasium was completed that first year, said Aunt Louise. Ruth smiled at the quaint dresses of the girls who smiled back at her from the yellow pages. Next came the class autographs written so 'many long years before. The writing was faded but the scribblings of those light hearted school mates were still legible. The autographs of the class officers came first, and Ruth read them aloud. l137l

Page 142 text:

Bday Once a resolution we did make That spring fever we would never take. But Spring flowers and weather have come, When the stun shines and the bees hum, And what care -we for reslatfzfons When u-orlf is harmful to our const1'tut1fons . The class of 1920 is photographed en masse, also in pieces. Maveety has not missed one yet. Christy spills the beans in the lunch room. He was probably excited by the new rubber chair tips. The Annual Staff watches the birdie. Romulus could hardly remain still long enough. The Chem Lab opens amid the crashes of glass. Our long lost carpenters return to work. The indomitable meets the invincible, and we beat Woodward, 6-4. A Chaplain S. B. Knowles addresses us. The bunch decides to bone for exams. That, however, is about as far as it goes. Our orators vociferously contest for the highest honor. We play Walnut Hills. East High's beautiful bird bath is finally completed. Commercial Club Dance. Dutch and Mac shine. -Last A Grade Assembly. We entrust the glorious colors to budding seniors. A Grade party and dance. Our team plays O. 'M. I. The last game. - -A Grade exams. June The last month of our Senior year, And to our eye there comes a tear, Exams, Commencement, and then goodbye To the class we love and dear East High. -B, C and D final exams. -Oh Horror of Horrors! Keck cannot find the family dress suit. -We are given our sheepskins amid much embarrassing confusion and we depart on our various ways hence. DELMORE W. GAETZ, '20. 1 1361

Page 144 text:

Some write for glory Some write for fame, But I write merely to sign my name. Betty Fisher, '20. Betty was the vice-president of the senior class, explained Aunt Louise. Hln your wood shed of memory Consider me a chip. H. Maveety, '20. ll Maveety was our class president, laughed Aunt Louise, and she told of some of the exciting class meetings which the Seniors had had at which he had presided. Ruth laughed with her and wished that she might have been present, too. Be what you is, and not what you ainlt. If you is what you ain't, You ain't what you is. Mildred Roggf' Mildred was our secretary, said Aunt Louise in a far away tone, which showed plainly that she was again present at one of those class meetings. There were autographs of the class mates, which Ruth read quietly to herself, now and then reading aloud a particularly clever or funny one. May beauty and truth keep you in youth. May green tea and sage preserve your old age. Helena Ballangee, ,20. A funny little sketch accompanied this quaint rhyme. Ruth laughed and in a minute or two read aloud. Live long and have good times, And marry the dude who has the dimes. Your churn 'Pinkeyf No other name was signed and Aunt Louise had no idea who the author was. That will teach me a lesson, said Ruth. I am going to demand that people who write in my book sign their full names after this. When you are married And hubby is cross, Tie him to a post And show him wh0's boss. Ma1'y Harper. t'lVIary was one of the most witty girls in the school, said Aunt Louise, and besides was always ready for any thing in the way of athletics. 'tThere are meters iambic, There are meters triambic, There are meters with musical tones, But the meter that's neater, completer, and sweeter Is to meet her in the moonlight alone. Your Comrade in French Class. This, too, bore no other mark of identification. It was written in a boyish scrawl, hardly legible. Ruth exclaimed with annoyance. I think that it is a shame! Some of the most clever are unsigned. There were tiny pictures pasted under some of them. Aunt Louise called them ping-pongs. Ruth turned to a page on which was written only one line, in a man's hand writing. Best wishes for a successful future. May fifth, nineteen twenty. E. D. Lyon. I iss 1