Harrodsburg High School - Harrodian Yearbook (Harrodsburg, KY)

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PROPHECY A good many years ago a dear friend “dipped into the future,” far as “human eye could see,” and wrote down the things revealed to her. I, being a close friend of her’s, was told of this paper which began like this: “’This prophecy of the Senior Class of 1980, I leave in my vault to he opened ten years lienee, if I am deceased.” It has been thirteen years since she told me of this little secret. On May 27, 1940, while going thru my diary, I happened to come upon the account of 1 his episode as 1 had written it ten years before. My friend had not been seen or heard of for five years at the time 1 was reading my account of the happy high school days. Many of her home town friends thought she had died obscurely in some small place and no one had written to us about it, as she was slow to make friends. I knew that 1 had no right to go to the old vault and take the paper, since 1 didn't know her whereabouts, but curiosity overcame my scruples and 1 could not resist the temptation. 1 went to the bank, opened the vault and took from it the forecast of our class’s future. When I returned with the papers, which were wrapped in a fragment of the dress she wore on the night of our graduation I could not read them. I sat down to think and the tears filled my eyes. The dress had been a beautiful frock, long and flowing, made of white chiffon, a dress of style and the admiration of all the Senior girls. At last I dried my eyes and began to read her interesting account of what my classmates were supposed to be doing at t li very date that 1 was reading her prophecy. I could not believe it true. Her account of the occupation of the three classmates who were the only ones remaining in tin old town was exact. There was Flora Cassell who was having the time of her life teaching Freshman Latin and first year French in Harrods-burg High School, as successor to Miss Henderson, who had resigned her position only in the last year. Then there was Marvin Kays who, with our friend. Billy Alford. had bought a half interest in the Old Fort, and now sat back puffing cigars, with money .just rolling in as the price of admission had been raised to $2.00. Very frequently they were Pajre twenty-four

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asked if they were grandsons of Daniel Boone, since the resem Idanee was so striking. And, of course, poor little me with a lovely little home, writing poems in blank verso and heroic couplets for my living. We four met at my home one evening in the following week for bridge and somehow our old classmate was brought into the conversation and this brought to my mind the old prophecy of our Senior Class. 1 got it and we went over it together. We decided that it would be very interesting to get in touch with all of the old crowd and find if her prophecy in regard to them had come true. The search was begun the next day. We already knew the whereabouts of some of them and knew it would not be so very hard to find the rest. Talk about fun. We surely had it. I only wish I had time to tell you of our experiences, but I must hurry on. First we found Edwin Adams who was “wise-cracking” and “joking” for the New York Times. Edwin was living happily in a cozy little apartment in New York, with the sweetest little wife and a still sweeter child. Theirs was certainly a happy home. In direct contrast to this happy man, was Thelma Royalty. She had married a handsome young gentleman—you may guess who, and they quarreled continually. The quarrelling seemed to be caused from the fact that Thelma “would have no man ordering her around.” The same old Thelma. Such is life, so we must pass on. While on the subject of marriage, I’d just as well tell of all the old married folks. Our friend, Mary Elizabeth Hutton is Mrs. Van Dyke, of Philadelphia, a multi-millionaire’s wife. I always knew Mary Elizabeth would do well—? And would you believe it? We found Bush Finnell married to Miss Dora Curd, living happily on Dora’s ranch in California, fishing and loafing for dear life. Mr. and Mrs. Ensminger, in other words, Ruth VanArsdall and Worthington, were found playing on the sands at Clearwater, Fla., with their guest. Miss Willie Hood Hatchett and fiance. A happy little party this was, and 1 longed to join them, but could not spare the time. And speaking of marriages, we found our friend’s only false prediction here. Instead of Miss Lucile l.ay being married, as she prophesied, we found her still leading Mr. Condit VanArsdall, one of the greatest contractors of the day, and another boy friend from New Jersey—a merry chase. Poor boys! Mrs. “Skip Rue—ah—our old friend and cheer leader, Miss Frances True Brown, was discovered in the depths of Chicago teaching dancing, against the washes of her dear husband. But she enjoyed her work, so “Skip” should worry. Mr. Charles Dedman, who owns a nice little drug store in Burgin, Ky., seems very well satisfied with his wife. Their three children are thriving beautifully. Mr. and Mrs. Frank Rue are also happy in their country home in Rhode Island. You can’t imagine who Mrs. Frank Rue was? Well, she was Miss Margaret Gentry. Quite a surprise to us all, isn’t it. Miss Dolly Gregory was found to be engaged to Mr. James Champion, Professor of Physics at Harvard University. Miss Gregory—our friend Dolly—has been on the Pago twenty-five