Harlan Community High School - Harpoon Yearbook (Harlan, IA)

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dig: Bat-grnrm 'L In -HL A91 Uhr iliiahg Elllnmrr Slum j Dear Diary: ' Tommy came to me today for his usual story, Aunty, tell me a story bout flowers 'n fish 'n everyone you knew when you went to school. I,have told him so Much about my old class-mates, that he seems to know everyone almost as 'wellhas I do. l That's quite a large order, Tommy, but I will do my best. I thought for a few minutes and then I said, I am going to tell a story that will interest you especially, Vera. It's to -be about the classmates of our Sophomore year in High School. QI was fortunate in having Vera Gillette as my guest and my story fitted right in with our train of thought.J Dol urged Vera, It's been so long since I've heard from any of them. This is the story I told him: x Last week, I went to the green house to get a plant for yourfmother's birth- day present, Tommy. As I was waiting for my package, I noticed what a pro- fusion of flowers of all kinds there were. It seemed to me as if I had never seen so many flowers in all my life. Even though it was May, tlierc were poin- settas in full bloom. , Suddenly I felt as though some one was looking at me-many someones in fact. I looked around to find that in the center of these flowers, were faces. Why-why they were the faces of my old schoolmates! I rubbed my eyes and looked again, but the same sight greeted me as before. There were Dick Schell, Russell Noble, Marjorie Bell, Darlene Tague, and everyone than I had known durlrlg my Sophomore year. Of course, there was not a face in every flower, but some of them were so well represented by my old friends thatl I will tell you all that I can remember. In among the potted plants were two narcissig one was tall and stately and from its dainty leaves, peeped forth the face of Harold GreenL The other was much smaller and more wiryg in its center, I saw Harry Jackson 1Those boys always were so vain.J Can you guess where I found Russelwl Noble?-Looking out as saucy as ever from a flaming poinsetta, flaunting its brilliancy to all who would see. I laughed until 1 nearly cried when I saw that. Evidently the gardner had not been any tco careful that morning, for I found a dandelion, cloe to the poin- strtta, NVIIICII contained the face of our illustrious president of t at year, LeRoy Olsen. He was getting old and his hair had evidently not yet had its usual appli- cation of stacomb, for I could blow neraly all the fluffy whiteness from his head with one puff. I Talking about Russell, reminds me of the Dahloff girls. ,Gladys was the principal features of a rather small, but dainty marigold, while Thelma was the bright and shining light of a large, stately golden glow . l Do you remember that Richard Schell was always so slow and sleepy during school hours, but that he invariably brightened up aliout four o'clock when the dismissal bell rang? Maybe you can guess where I found him. He was nodding sleepily in a four o'clock! ' I will never forget the debate we had in English, during the second year of our sojournment in High School. You will probably reme ber, Vera, that Fred Louis was the principal orator of the day. He must stil continue along that line, for I found him under the protection of a Jack-in-the-Pulpit. I doubt very much, however, if he is a minister. Do you know, I think that fits him in more ways than one, but I'll leave the other to your imagin tion. Of course you can guess where I saw Clementine Gaem She gazed upon l I A ' If X l . -5 T I I V I

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JQ ' 11' Gllgr 'Earfnrm the world in general from the exalted station of one of the highest blossoms of a little white clematis vine. Do you remember the many girls that Harold Smith had cultivated? I found him still looking eagerly about 'for goodness knows whom, from the bleeding heart. ' The moon-flowers were not open, but I could see. through the delicate petals of one of these, the profile of Clarice Sorenson. In the heart of a bnilliant red and and yellow tulip, with her eyes twinkling merrily and her face up-turned saucilly, I found Darlene Tague. Nearby was a small. dainty, fresh-looking maiden- hair fern. There I found Margaret Patterson, her rightful home was not in the tulip bed, but she had crept away to be nearer Darlene. A small, dainty, creamy-white llily-of-the-valley, was the background for the face of Ethel Mae Frederickson. Hazel Heilesen threw shy glances from the center of a delicate violet. True to tradition, her head was hung modestly on a thread-like stem. In the velvety up-turned faces of the saucy pansies, I found two of my mates, Marjorie Hoover and Gaillard Heflin. Virginia Hertert stared at me from the golden heart ofawhite shasta daisy. The daffodils had a new member in their family. She was Bernice Broderson. In the midst of an imperial yellow crocus, with her hair blending wiith the petals of the flower, I was not surprised to see Evelyn Andersen. Synonymous with his occupation, Bruce Kilpatrick could be seen from the center of a blue corn flower. Following constantly the golden sun, with their bright eyes ever turned toward it, were Ruth Groesbeck and Frieda Boettger, disguised as sun flowers. My attention was arrested by a crimson peony, flaunting its :brilliant colors brazenly. Who do you suppose was the heart of this boastful flower? Paul Petty! Paul always was such a bold boy! Speaking of bnilliant colors reminds me of Gordon Fredrickson, whom I found in the crest of a large blood-red coxcomb. Elva McKeig was highly honored by Mother Nature, for I found her en- closed in the petals of a beautiful lavender orchid. ' One of the most beautiful displays, was that of the nastursiums. They were all colors and sizes. I found Leona Larson, Velma Bristol, Leanna Jacobsen, Ruth Fisher, and Eldora Hervey among them. Our class was represented in the dahlia family by Zola McConnell, Edna May, Helen Jacobsen and Lou Verne Weimer. Within one of the beautiful blossoms of a tall, stately, gladolia, Mildred Hall was enclosed. You have probably been wondering, Vera, where you were to be found. You peeped out from one of the largest chrysanthumums I ever have seen. Elva Kemp was almost lost in a myriad of sweet peas of varied hues. In a tall, delicate larkspur, I was delighted to find Robina Miller. Last, but not least, I came to the roses. Frances Christensen was graced by of a jack rose. Entwined in each others arms, Marjorie Bell and Mary Moorehouse gazed rather soulfully from the heart of a single fragrant rose. the dusky beauty Then I had a beautifull surprise! Hovering over all my mates watching over us, las was her custom of yore,J from the won- derful heart of a still more wonderful soft dewy American Rose, Miss Beatty still kept guard. u Oh, how natural that seems, Vera sighed. But what about the fish? queried Tommy, rimpatiently. Well, dear, that was a fishy story, I replied softly. Aw, gee! grumbled Tommy, as he stalked from the room. u n -M. A., '27.