Hamilton Central High School - Hamiltonian Yearbook (Hamilton, NY)

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THE HT4 Nl IL TON I A N VIQ27 Year book of llamillon lligh School Time The clouds are rolling, rolling hy, The trees are waving to and fro. The wind is hlowing with a sigh. While time is on the go. Sometimes we write with pen and ink The fondest memories of the day, Yet wheneler we stop to think Time is Hitting fast away. I wonder if time wouldnlt wait If we really were worth while? And yet we have to run the gait Else time is ahead, a mile! Since time will keep on going. VVhy canlt we have some pleasure In knowledge of things worth knowing, And in service Without measure. Life isn't all a carefree ride, Nor yet is it all a drudgeg Though many times we have to abide By the penalty imposed by the judgef, Time and tide inseparable, Await upon no mang So in this earthly life VVhy Il0t do the hest we can? -LAWRENCE L. JOHNSON. '27, X Page Number 7'11'enfy-one

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1' II l M IL TON I fl N IQZQ' Year hook of llamillon llzqlz School A7 Day in ffze Rome Garden School fl BED TIME STORY KI In Thornton W. Burgess - HE Great Round Sun rose smiling over the bald crest of Bonney Hill and peeped down with great warm grins upon the little wood folk's plot called the Rose Garden School. The Gentle Breezes softly shook the petals and leaflets of the school house, which was nothing more than an immense rose bush hung with great, beautiful, red, sweet roses, and bordered all around with Martha Snap Dragon and all her little posey friends. The spring had come, and with it on nice clear days came the sessions of the Rose Garden School, which all the little country folk hasten to attend. It was almost ten o'clock and the teachers of the school were impatiently waiting for scholars to arrive. Helen Fuzzitop and several teachers were talking of their little students. Well, remarked Helen. l d0n't see why that little Red Squirrel can't behave himself at least once in a while. Helen Hedgehog spoke up sharply. lVly, l d0n't see how you stand him, but you should see my little Bird Boy, he is the brightest little boy in all my classes. Now really, Helen, you should see my Doris Songsparrow draw and paint, and l do believe that l have the smartest group of little workers in all the wide world, said Miss lnez Bussibody. Pooh! Pooh! chipped in Hanna Beaver, you all may have your bright scholars but you have nothing to come up to my johnny VVoodchuck, be really is the best little child that there ever was, and that Tony Nosiebug, l do think he is the cutest thing, and the way he can talk to the girls is perfectly marvelous. Pstl Pstl spat out Ruth Pussy Cat. VVhat ever are we going to do with George lVlushroom? He springs up every year and yet he never seems to get anywhere, and that little Andrew Smartweed, he seems to know it all, but when it comes to school, l do believe that he doesn't. Goodness knows what would have been the last of such talking. but just then the Young Pup came barking up and yipped,'Phoebe Bluejay is already to hold chapel and she does wish you would sing with the rest. Chapel was held that morning under the shade ofa large Red Rose, that nodded his head as he joined in on the choruses. Little Larry Neverready played the piano. Miss Phoebe Bluejay led the singing with a little twig. and from the gathered pupils, weeds, grasses, Howers, birds, turtles, and animals there came a great and greatly discorded roll of noise. Well back in the Page N umbe r Tu eniv fwo