Hendersonville High School - Laureate Yearbook (Hendersonville, NC)

Page 8 text:

6 THE MOUNTAINEER who stands and waits, to him who seeks confident and unafraid. Disraeli, an English Statesman and Great Thinker declares: secret of success is constancy of purpose.” If this be so, we may reach the goal and carve our destiny upon the rock of Time. Classmates, as we each perform our part in this day’s exer¬ cises, as we listen to the words of the speaker, as we hear the words of farewell spoken by our Valedictorian—as we look into the faces of Teachers, Friends and Schoolmates from whom we must part—let us keep in mind the words of our great American scholar and thinker. Benjamin Franklin. He says: ‘‘Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time for that is what life is made of”— and let us.resolve: ‘‘To be true—for there are those who trust us; To be pure—for there are those who care; To be strong—for there is much to suffer; To be the friend of all—the foe, the friendless; To be humble—for we know our weakness; To look up, and laugh, and love, and lift.” W. Mack Jones

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THE MOUNTAINEER 5 Salutatory Friends, Teachers, Schoolmates—it is my pleasant task to bid you, in behalf of my mates and myself, welcome to our Class Day Exercises and, though the class of 1916 is small in numbers, our welcome is as warm as any a class many times our numbers could accord you. We trust that the memory of this day may linger pleasantly with you as with us, long after we have scattered to our respective homes to assume the life work for which we have so long endeavor¬ ed to equip ourselves. We come before you with a very full realization that this is in¬ deed a commencement for us—that we have finished but to begin— that the “world’s broad field of battle’’ now lies before us and that we are but raw recruits in that great army of workers that is ever marching on into the dim vistas of the Future. Our little band may perform no deeds of valor, our names may not “go sounding down the ages” but we hope to prove that our class-motto is no empty sounding phrase—that we are in very truth— “Quality not Quantity.” Today we pass our first milestone in life’s pathway—today we stand “where the brook and river meet.” In the past our steps have been guided, our characters shaped by kind and faithful Friends and Teachers—they have helped when the road was rough—encouraged when the light of hope grew dim —pointed us to high ideals, inspired with noble thoughts—but to¬ day we surrender these ties—we must stand forth as your women and young men—to develop strong noble characters—to be and do something in the world—or else, degenerate into weaklings without self-reliance, courage or aim— “Self reverence, self knowledge, self control. These three alone, lead life to sovereign power.” Ruskin says: “The weakest among us has a gift, however seeming by trivial, which is peculiar to him, and which, worthily used, will be a gift also to his race.” It is for us then to do our small best, each in his allotted sphere. We must fight to win life’s battles. Opportunity comes, not to him

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THE MOUNTAINEER 7 Class of 1916 The other day in council grave, The Class of ’16 sat, Said they to me, “Now look here, Lee, You’ve got to be Class Poet.’’ Then, Fellow-sufferers, down sat, I wildly tore my hair. The Heavenly Muse, She did refuse, To shed her light on me. Alas! A poem there had to be, I did not dare refuse; Tho to be a poet, You all do know it, One must have inspiration. So should my meter faulty be, I beg you to remember, That to make a rhyme, At any time, Is hard for any fellow. First on the Roll of ’16 stands The name of Loee English. A gentle lass, Who leads the Class; She’s the fair Valedictorian. Second in line stands a quiet lad, Mack Jones he is entitled: A knowledge of Math He surely hath, And he’s our Salutatorian. I i Then comes a tall and limber lad; His name is Arthur English; He’ll never blench, Except in French, He holds the place of Prophet. Last, but not least is a dark-brow¬ ed boy, Who’s cognomen is Allen; He is the Poet, Alas! You know it, Whose tortured you today. And now, kind friends, I’ll say farewell, My rhymes are all played out. But alas, alack! ‘Tis an awful whack, To know you’ll speed my going.