Emmerich Manual High School - Ivian Yearbook (Indianapolis, IN)

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20 THE BOOSTER TWO WAYS TO LEAVE SCHOOL Shortridge by a large score, predicted that Manual would lose to the fast Southport five. The dope bucket was given a severe jolt when Manual tri- umphed in an uninteresting game. Still the dopesters couldn ' t see the Manual five for the championship, as Markely, of Shelbyville, was consid- ered to be unbeatable. Everybody, including the loyal Manual rooters, received a splendid surprise when Bob Whipkus, with the aid of the team, defeated Shelbyville by an over- whelming score. Every time Bob shot for a field goal — presto — two points. He tossed baskets from any position on the floor with miraculous regu- larity. When the team left for Blooming- ton, accompanied by a small band of rooters, everybody knew that the team would make a good showing. After the victory over East Chicago, the Manual hopes went higher and higher as the team had drawn a bye into the semi-finals. Although Manual was de- feated by the Thorntown five, it was a well-known fact that the Red and White was the only team to outplay Thorntown in any part of a game. Manual outplayed Thorntown the first half, but repeated fouling lost the game. While the Manual five had many handicaps during the year, it finally gained the distinction of being the third best team in the state of In- diana. So ended one of the most successful basketball seasons this school has ever known. The Shadow of Thyself. When I strolled along the towpath, As the sun was sinking low, I wondered what might be hidden In the murky depths below. Might it be the bones of an eagle? Or the shell of a human form? Or the lurking mass of a hideous fish? Or an evil being firm? I start. I shake. I tremble. My nerves are set ajar. For what has this mystic figure Taken up his abode down there? Here comes a stranger now. I will ask his opinion upon The meaning of this horrid thing Asleep in the slumbering pond. The old man stops and listens To my piteous wail of fear, And turneth now his searching gaze Into the water there. Friend, what is this that ails thee? I think thou art asleep. The hideous monster you see below Doth to your own lines keep. So thus it is, too often, that Tn the murky streams we see, ' Tis only our own reflections From which we are wont to flee. — Julian Witham. Miss Iske: Frederick, give the principal parts of occids. F. Sieerist. wise boy(?): O-kiddo, o-kidd-her(e), o-kiss-us.

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