Erie Community High School - Cardinal Yearbook (Erie, IL)

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THE CARDINAL Class Prophecy One day, as I strolled aimlessly down the street, I came upon a group of children vigorously blowing soap bubbles. Inasmuch as I had particularly enjoyed this childish sport in the days of my youth, I asked them if I might try my luck at it. They promptly granted the request and scurried off to play another game, leaving me to reminiscences. Hastily I withdrew my apparatus to a more obscure, shady spot. Lazily blowing huge, vari-colored bubbles, I fell to musing on my old playmates who had long ago blown soap bubbles with me, and on those who had finally finished high school 'way back in '25, As I became very much enraptured in my dreamy sport, my eyes opened in astonishment, for there in the very center of a particularly large bubble, I fancied I could see Nettie Dobers as a missionary in China. The next bubble was slow in forming, but through all the difficult stages of its development, I could catch a glimpse of Mary Hudson. First, she was studying painstakingly to be a nurse, but her courage broke at the sight of the suffering of her first patient, a man with soulful eyes and ruby red lips, whom she straight- way married. Soon I witnessed Lysle Echelbarger as a radical old scientist over in Egypt, hunting specimens of prehistoric animals and dinosaur eggs. A little bubble formed right off the side of this one and in it, I spied Robert LaRue as a preacher in Springhill. ' The next few bubbles passed smoothly off. In the first one, I saw Ruth James married to a soldier and joined to the band of camp-followers. In another, I viewed Dorothea Finnicum as a decided old maid, but I could see her occasionally indulge in a mild love affair-usually with a traveling Evangelist. Then Olive Greth debutantely slouched before me as a regular flirt. She had been married three times, but her last husband had red hair! Next Pauline Lawrence appeared as a dainty toe-dancer in Chambersburg, Illinois. Then came Harland Bleitz as a doctor, and Everett Housenga as an undertaker. They had formed a part- nership and were doing a Very prosperous business. Another retinue followed closely. As I curiously watched an exceedingly large globule prepare to burst, I discovered Jean Allen, an eminent lawyer in Den- rock. Marcia Lodge tripped mincingly through the following one as an old maid touring the country, giving free lectures on The Evils of Dancing. The subse- quent picture surely surprised me, for it revealed Alberta Turner as a policewoman in New York! Ada Slaymaker, who had been elected to the National Congress was so puffed up that her bubble could scarcely contain her. In rapid succession came a particularly light formation in which, as it floated off into space, I viewed an expert monkey trainer. Who could it be? Why none other than Robert Pfundstein! Immediately thereafter I perceived Harold Pierson, an eccentric poet, in desperation running his gaunt fingers through his long tresses, for want of inspiration. The next creation almost popped out loud when it burst. There was Lucille Kelly complacently whizzing an elevator up and down the dizzy 22

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THE CARDINAL - Thirteenth: Nettie Dobers submits her incurable Tee Hee's, to moderate Howard Riordon's obstreperous Haw Haw's. Fourteenth: Dorothea Finnicum leaves her drawing pencils to Effie Graham, and her matronly poise to Ruth Slaymaker. Fifteenth: Harland Bleitz leaves his butler costume to Russell Skaggs with the hope that the latter will find it a perfect fit. Sixteenth: Lucy Mahlstedt bequeaths her staid outer bearing to Marjorie Schryver, and her rippling inner self to Robert Wheelock. Seventeenth: Lucille Kelley leaves her Irishness and her preference of ruly horses to willful Fords, to Audrey Bleitz. Eighteenth: Grace Matson shoves off her Thcodoric desires to be grown-up to Do1'othy Skaggs. Nineteenth: Mary Hudson's breathless interrogations are left behind to be perfected by her young brother, William. Twentieth: Margaret Finnicum leaves her average of 97-to the school as a reminder of the class of '25. Twenty-first: Jean Allen will, upon application, return to teach Ardath Ryan how to blush. Twenty-second: Olive Greth and Gwendolyn Kellogg join forces and leave to Lenore Terry, a packet of faded love-letters, several well-worn vanity cases, and a pair of broken hearts. Twenty-third: Everett Housenga, the sheik, surrenders his hypnotic powers to John Forth. Twenty-fourth: Marcia Lodge wills her mountain-maiden innocencen to Marguerite Bacon. All remaining property will go toward paying our funeral expenses. Thus, we the Senior Class of the Eric Community High School, do set Olll' hands and seal this last will and testament on the eighth day of April in the year nineteen-hundred twenty-five. HARLAND BLEITZ. Signed, sealed, published and declared by the said Senior Class, as and for their last will and testament, in the presence of us, who, at their request, in their presence, and in the presence of each other, have hereunto subscribed our names as attesting witnesses to said instrument. PHILLIP ROOS MYRTLE ADAMS 21

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THE CARDINAL heights of the Woolworth building! Stuart Blean's Visage followed closely. He was shoveling coal on the Springhill Limited. Then came another curious circus character-Margaret Finnicum as a daring tight rope walker. After that, bubbles of almost uniform size followed each other at regular intervals. First came Myrtle Hadaway, a noted poet of Philosophy, then Lyla Doll, a sensational aviatrix, and lastly, Hugh Perkins, a model in a Parisian fashion show. He lavishly displayed the sloppy sock fad, among many others equally as becoming and ridiculous. Then appeared an especially bright colored bubble picturing Grace Matson, who, having been bitterly disappointed in love by a proposal in three hundred lines of lumbering prose instead of the romantic, down-on-your-knee, verbal type, had gone into settlement work. A curious bubble now formed and its contents were equally singular. Right in the very center of it stood a prim, old-maid school-teacher. Darkly did she scowl over the spectacles poised far down on her wrinkled nose. Quite in harmony with the antiquity of her garb, her hair was combed tightly into a cupola on the top of her head. A terrific whang of the birch rod in her scrawny hand snapped open the cover of a book on the table before her. What name is this I dimly decipher there on the fly-leaf? G-w-e-n-, why Gwendolyn Kellogg, of course! Mercy what a transformation! Just then the children returned with a bound and I was rudely jarred back to my senses by one little urchin's yelling out, Hey, Missus! Aint'ja never gonna git through blowin' bubbles? -Lucy M ahlstedt. 23