Highland Community College - Trail Blazer Yearbook (Highland, KS)

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This is the page That sets forth to say That this is the way That we feel. This is the oar That did the work, That traveled the miles, That endured the bumps, That blazed the trails, That sold the school. This is the our That carried the boys That sang the songs. That played the games, That showed the World That our school is one That is here to stay. This, then, is the oar That belongs to the day That We felt the way That we feel.

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SIGNS Cl- TI-IE TIMES HE Zodiac counts twelve famous signs and represents the year. Twelve signs a day might give an adequate index to the stars of H. J. C., but, for practical reasons our horoscope must be limited to the traditional dozen. The thoroughness of our pseudo-science may be made manifest if we allocate the signs to three kinds ol' times: viz. good, bad, and everyday. To read our horoscope, to follow the sequence ol' the pictures printed in this yearbook, begin, dear reader, in the up- per left hand corner, always, and observe the patterns from left to right., and then proceed with each row similarly from top to bottom. Abstruse, you say? So are the stars. An illusion, a dream, let us say, is the proper beginning for all notable en- deavor. The peace, the quiet, the tranquil- lity of the Nemaha River, flowing as gently as the sweet Afton among her green braes, shows a scene of such beauty as the students of H. J. C. rarely have time to contemplate. VVe all agree, however, about t.he good old summertime. Standing teams attract sentimental attention, and our second illusration of the brighter side of life shows two who won Santa's prizes at his all school party. Rubeti Hall is listed among the favorable aspects of our college year, for no house sheltering six- teen girls can fail to be the scene of mer- riment. Down one block east of the cam- pus is found that irresistible rendezvous where our beaux go bowling. Bad times? You know what we mean -when little men with dusty faces suc- cumb to little women with cleansing graces. Or when the camera catches the dainty maiden eating a mouthful that be- trays the size of her appetite. Or when a great and vaulting ambition reveals a slip. Or when, on an icy day, the editor un- gracefully salaams before the Mask and Curtain and the camera eye. Daily-for man cannot live by bread alone, it is popularly necessary to resort to cafes and soda fountains for sturdy meals. Daily-for it is hard for any man to overcome his urge to be the Tarzan of the world's greatest circus-our over- grown boys contrive weird gymnastic ex- ercises. Daily-for the sake of record and of records-our students resort to the sanctuary of the library. And finally-the dream again, the illusion from which all great things draw the vital power that feeds them-the picture of hard, honest, happy toil, the essence of the times. Five