Hart High School - Hartian Yearbook (Hart, MI)

 - Class of 1936

Page 22 of 108

 

Hart High School - Hartian Yearbook (Hart, MI) online collection, 1936 Edition, Page 22 of 108
Page 22 of 108



Hart High School - Hartian Yearbook (Hart, MI) online collection, 1936 Edition, Page 21
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Hart High School - Hartian Yearbook (Hart, MI) online collection, 1936 Edition, Page 23
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Page 22 text:

A THANKSGIVING REUNION N old-fashioned Thanksgiving dinner?” said Ma Hubbell, doubtfully. “I don’t know. Do you think we’d better, pa?” “I ain’t sure’s we had or not,” candidly, ‘‘but it’s been on my mind consider’ble the last few weeks—an’ I guess mebbe I’d like it; we’d both like it. I’m now past seventy and we’ve been out here to Illinois twelve years now.” “I know, pa, but it—it never seemed like I could. An’ I knew you wouldn’t like it, either. We’ve never spoke of it together, but—but you remember the last time.” “Fifteen years ago,” trying to keep his own voice firm and steady. “Sometimes I’ve tried to think mebbe I was too ha’sh with Enos, an’ too hasty.” Ma Hubbell did not speak. Tears were trickling silently down her cheeks. “I tried to train Enos up to be a good farmer,” the old man continued. “He learned to be a good grower and seller. An’ then all to once he commenced runnin’ wild, and then he learned to play tricks so he could join a circus an see the world. Then he came home for that Thanksgiving Day, an’ we killed the biggest turkey, an’ after dinner I talked with him ’bout what we hoped and expected of him. An’—an’—laughed in my face, an’ used some pretty strong language. An’ that night he went otf an’ got so drunk we had to bring him home. The next day I told him to go, and not come back any more. Then we sold the farm an’ came our here. Mebbe I was too ha’sh with him, mebbe I was.” Under the long shed the hired man was preparing some of the fowls for market. The farmer looked at them all with unseeing eyes. At length he went back into the house. “I’m over seventy,” he repeated, “an’ you’re pretty close to me, nut. We can’t reasonably count for much longer. I could relish a real old-timy dinner once more. Enos is likely dead long ago. Circus folks don’t live long, they say. We—we can imagine him sittin’ at the table with us, jest a little boy. like he used to be.” Ma Hubbell’s lips quivered, but turned to him a calm face. “All right, pa,” she agreed. “I’ll start in at once. But you’ll have to buy me some cranb’ries in town, an’ some raisins an’ other things. I’ll set ’em down. An’ say, pa, if you should happen to see anybody on the road you’d specially like, you might ask ’em to dinner. ’Twould make it more sociable for you.” Pa Hubbell nodded and glanced through the window. “Get your list ready,” he said, “an’ I’ll go an’ be harnessin’ up. I want to go an’ get back ’fore the snow falls very deep. I guess there’s enough dressed for a load now, foi Bill an’ I picked forty turkeys an’ as many hens las night. This lot I think I’d better take down State street. An’ I’ll keep an eye open for anybody 1 think will make good Thanksgiving comp’ny.” It was full fifteen miles to the stores on State street. At length he stopped before one. “Fine, big show of everything except turkeys,” he thought, “an’ they seem sca’se. Guess mebbe the owner’ll be glad to buy mine.” He swung his team to the curb and went inside. JL’he store was well filled with customers, and he went forward to a radiator to warm his hands. The talk of the customers was coming to him from all sides, and he listened interestedly. “Why, you seem to know all about turkeys, sir.” he heard one woman say. “I ought to,” laughed a voice which made Pa Hubbell start and crane his neck. “1 was brought up on a farm. I wish I had one of the birds my old father used to—” A shaggy gray head, almost covered by a dowi drawn fur cap, suddenly loomed up behind the customer. “I’ve brought a flock of ’em, son,” Pa Hubbell announced grimly. “Just tell the lady to wait till I bring ’em in.” He started toward the door, but before he reached it a hand was on his shoulder. “Father!” a voice said huskily. “I—I didn’t know —I thought—I went back to the old place, and—is mother—” “We sold an’ moved out here,” briefly, “an’ your ma is alive an’ well. No, you needn’t say a word, son Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving, an we don’t want any old sores opened. Your ma told me to bring out somebody to eat with us, an’ I’ll take you. Now help me with the turkeys, an’ then ask your boss to let you off till day after tomorrow, when I’ll bring you back.” The son laughed shakily, his hand slipping caressingly across the other’s shoulders. “I have no boss,” he said. “You don’t understand, father. I’m not dancing clogs now, nor drinking. I quit that more than ten years ago. I just couldn’t keep it up, remembering all you and mother had taught me. Then I tried half a dozen other things, and went broke on them all. At last I settled down to something I knew—something you had taught me— eggs, poultry, beef, mutton, farm produce, fruits, and the like, and I’ve made good.” Pa Hubbell’s mouth opened and shut, and a great light came into his eyes. But all he said was: “Ma’M be glad. Of course you’ll go, right off?” “Of course. I’ll speak to the chief clerk about a few matters, and then—. But I’m glad you have two strong horses, father, and a wagon large enough to hold the whole bunch.” “The what?” looking bewildered. “All of us. But I forgot. I suppose you don’t know there are seven of us—wife, children, and myself. The oldest boy is twelve, and named after you. Then there are girls of eleven and ten, and the younger boys. We live in the rooms over the store.” Pa Hubbell lost command of himself. “Five children—for Thanksgiving!” he shouted. “An’ one of 'em a boy twelve years old and named after me!” Then he whirled to the wagon. “Come, help me out with these quick!” he cried, “then take me right upstairs to see ’em. Five! My land! What will ma say?” In about two hours they were all ready and on their way to see Ma Hubbell. She was so overcome with joy that she wept tears. A son who was thought to have been dead was now found and he together with his wife and five children to participate in a real old-fashioned Thanksgiving dinner and a family reunion. It truly was a happy day for Ma and Pa Hubbell. PAGE 8

Page 21 text:

COACH OLENDORF Coach Jasper Olendorf was born June 4. 1904, in Cooperstown, New York. He attended high school at Zeeland, Michigan. During his Freshman year there was no football in this high school. During his Sophomore year a team was organized. Mr. Olendorf served as captain for two games in his Junior year and was elected captain for his Senior year. He attended Western State Teachers’ College at Kalamazoo during the years '24 to ’28 and then came to Hart. During his years at college he won varsity letters in baseball, basketball, and football. He acted as captain in some of his college football games. During the years Mr. Olendorf has served as coach at Hart High School he has had three western Michigan championship teams and one tie. LITERATURE (Concluded from Page 3) With a song so gay For Thanksgiving Day. —Geraldine King, Grade 4. It was Thanksgiving Day, And I was on my way When I saw some pies. And I just strained my eyes To see them plain Through the window pane. At last I got down And fell to the ground With a happy thought Of what I was taught On a Happy Thanksgiving Day. —Charlotte Ann Fuller, Grade 6. Thanksgiving Day is coming soon. What kind cf a dinner should we have at noon? Should we have turkey, chicken, or pigs? Or go over to grandmother’s and have cake and figs? What shall we do for mother and dad? Whatever we do, they’ll be very glad. Then after we come home and mother has read. I'll pull off my clothes and go right to bed. —Marian Reed, Grade 6. HART LOSES 7-0 TO ITS OPPONENT, SHELBY Hart suffered a defeat when it clashed with Shelby in the last game of the season. The game opened with Gonder kicking off and Hart defending the south goal. Hart was unlucky with fumbles and uncompleted passes. Shelby recovered these, played the breaks, and outplayed Hart in the first quarter. Early in the second quarter Shelby recovered a fumble on Hart’s two-yard line and in two plays Toner went over for a touchdown. Ferris went around the end for the extra point. The Hart team held them during the rest of the first half. At the beginning of the second half Shelby kicked off and the playing took place in mid-field. Hart intercepted a pass and ended Shelby’s threat of a touchdown. Hart outplayed Shelby in this quarter and prevented them from scoring again. Hart started off the third quarter by throwing passes. Ferris intercepted one of these and it became Shelby’s ball. During the rest of the time the two teams kept the ball in mid-field fighting back and forth, neither being able to score. The game ended with Shelby on Hart’s 40-yard line, the score being 7 to 0. In spite of Hart’s defeat in this game every member of the team played exceptionally well. For nine Seniors this was their last game played for Hart High School. Although Hart was not successful this year in maintaining its former record, they fought hard but from the beginning of the season had been dogged with misfortune; one or two lucky breaks could have changed defeat to victory in many of the games. --------o-------- To a Freshman Girl I might praise your ruby lips. Say your cheeks were white as snow, Say your face would launch more ships Than Helen’s of long ago, I might sing your praise in rhyme, Yea, without a thought of self— But fair lady all the time I’d only kid myself. --------o------ — Viola R.: “What is the difference between a cat and a comma?” Corrine S.: “A cat has its claws after its paws and a comma’s a pause after a clause.” PAGE 7



Page 23 text:

• • Your Flag and My Flag Your (lag and my flag, And how it floats today. In your land and my land, And half a world away; Rose red and blood red The stripes forever gleam; Snow white and soul white— The good forefather’s dream; Sky blue and true blue, With stars to gleam aright, The glorified guidon of the day, A shelter through the night. Your flag and my flag, To every star and stripe The drums beat as hearts beat. And fifers shrilly pipe! Your flag and my flag, A blessing in the sky; Your hope and my hope— It never hid a lie! Homeland and far land, And half the world around, Old Glory hears our grand salute And ripples to the sound! Your flag and my flag, And, oh, how much it holds— Your land and my land— Secure within its folds! Your heart and my heart Beat quicker at the sight; Sun kissed and wind tossed— Red and blue and white. The one flag, the great flag, The flag for me and you, Glorified all else beside— The Red and White and Blue. Robert Tate: “Mother, may I change my name today?” Mother: “Why on earth do ycu want to change your name?” Robert: “Because Dad said he’d whip me when he gets home—as sure as my name is Robert.” • Mother: “Well, Pauline, how do you like your new teacher?” Pauline G.: “Oh, he is all right, only first he says that two and two make four and then he changes his mind and tells us that three and one make four.” Inspector: “Do you think it healthy to keep your hogs in the house?” Peter S.: “Wall, I dunno,” he drawled, “but I been akeepin’ my hawgs there for 14 years and I ain’t never lost one of ’em yet.” Ross Purdy: “And poor Harry was killed by a revolving crane.” Doris Fletcher: “My word, what fierce birds you have in your neighborhood.” Arthur Olson: “May I accompany you across the street, madam?” Elderly lady: “Certainly, sonny, how long have you been waiting here fcr somebody to take you across?” Benjamins asked a smart seventh grader: “How many sets of teeth does a person have?” Oakley Wicks: “Three.” Benjamins: “Name them.” Oakley Wicks: “Temporary, permanent, and false.” GEMS FROM THE CLASSROOM: A grass widow is the wife of a vegetarian. The letter M. D. signifies, “mentally deficient.” Homer was not written by Homer but by another man of that name. The sun never sets on the British Empire because the British Empire is in the East and the sun sets in the West. An Indian reservation consists of a mile of land for every five square Indians. Nitre gen is not found in Ireland because it is not found in a free state. The plural of ox is oxygen. The wife of a duke is ducky. Perry S.: “Can you dig me up a girl for the next party?” Virginia L.: “Sure, but why not take a live one?” Thomas W.: “Do you know the difference between a taxi and a street car?” Marian P.: “No.” Thomas: “Great; then we’ll take a street car.” PAGE 9

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Hart High School - Hartian Yearbook (Hart, MI) online collection, 1939 Edition, Page 1

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