Hobart Senior High School - Memories Yearbook (Hobart, IN)

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AURORA EDITORIAL STAFF

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HIGH SCHOOL ANNUAL 21 OUR SENIOR YEAR. Canto I. Listen, class of Nineteen Eleven! Hark, ye high and mighty Seniors! Call to mdnd a day forgotten, When the classes reassembled, Gathered in the new school building, For the selection of their studies, For a greeting to our classmates, For a meeting with our teachers. Forth we came from out the village, Forth we came with smiles of gladness, Glad the time had come for study: Tired of the long hot summer, Wearied by our long vacation, Longing for our books and pencils, For our short and much chewed pencils, For the lawn we must not walk on, For the lawn with corners barren, Corners where the children running, Lest for school they should be tardy, Trampled in their desperate hurry. What surprise was waiting for us, This first school day we were Seniors: What a great and glad commotion As the students thronged the campus! How we gazed in wonder 'round us, Wonder at the sight before us! There, erected through the summer, Stood a beautiful, new building, And we made great haste to enter, Haste to make an exploration. Now we saw our task before us, Now began our diiliculty. Up we climbed o'er piles of timber, Waded through a box of mortar, Then descended on a sand pile,- Wund ourselves a little closer, And our courage grew much stronger, And our faces grew much brighter. On we went-and ever onward Till at length we reached the entrance, Reached the place we so much longed for, Whereupon again we lingered, Lingered there and gazed around us, Saw the greatest of confusion, Saw the men with tools most wondrous, Saw them hastening through the building, Saw them working at the stairway: Saw them in the laboratory, Where with fire and lead and wrenches They were fitting pipes and soapstone, Making laboratory tables. Then we sought the new gymnasium, Built for winter games and pastime. There a vision rose before us, Of a team victorious ever, Of a winning basket ball team, That should break all former records, That should noted be in strange lands. There confusion, sawing, pounding, Men in laughter, men in anger, Merry men, were toiling, singing, Everywhere they held possession. Back we started on our journey, For there was no stairway leading, From the lower to the upper, From the upper to the lower, And the way that we must travel, Thus to reach the upper regions, Was a long and winding pathway, Over boxes, boards and barrels, Over cinders, sand and gravel, Over radiators, boxes, Over all things to be thought of. So that when the room for Seniors Once was reached, we, tired and weary, Vowed to stay there constant ever To our tolls, and tasks, and duties 'Till our school should be completed. Oh, the weary days that followed, Days of noise and great disturbance. Never shall the class forget them. When we made a recitation, It was made in tiny sections For the hammering and the shouting Constantly would interrupt us. One would start upon a sentence,