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

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22 HIGH SCHOOL ANNUAL With his voice in moderation,- Louder then, would grow the pounding Louder would grow his tone in volume. Then a man's voice from the air shaft, From the air shaft they were building, Would come forth ln tones of laughter And they multiplied the hubbub. Still we pressed our recitation, Now we smiled and now impatient Canto II. At the noise so long continued. When at last in desperation We had trained our mighty voices, 'Till they overcame confusion. Summer ded, and autumn's breezes, Though most balmy in the woodlands, And most pleasant on the roadways, Chilled us in our damp new building, White walled, damp, unheated school rooms. Forth we went with wraps, to classes, Shivered, shook and wrapped up closer, And when called upon, recited With our teeth forever chattering, And our Now the And the And the Laughed, voices very muffled. noise became less frequent, chill less penetrating, students, hopeful, happy, rejoicing in the quiet, In the peace that now reigned o'er us. Harken, Class of Nineteen Eleven! List, ye Seniors, high and mighty! Let us sing events more recent, Days of sunshine, days of pleasure, Days of triumph and rejoicing, For our tasks are well-nigh finished. Many days we've worked together, Many moons have shown upon us Since the building was completed. Now we have our recitations Undisturbed and peaceful ever: Quiet reigns within the library Where we write these rhymeless poems, Where we edit our Aurora, Our auditorium inviting, Spacious, beckoning to music, Helps us lift our tuneful voices, Singing songs unto the Forest , Singing songs of Captain Standish And the Puritan Priscilla, Opera that shall be famous For it shall be long remembered. On the stage erected for us Orators have rolled their thunder, Scene of comedy half tragic Both in winter and in springtime. Empty now is our gymnasium, But its days' are not forgotten: We have had our basket ball games, Had our team. victorious ever, Had our girls' team and our boys' team, Who have noted been in strange lands. Soon we'll leave the laboratory, Whence the odors floating upward Greet the Juniors, Sophs, and Freshmen, Leave the class rooms, leave the campus, Leave the cool, sweet, bubbling fountains Where we pause between the classes, Leave the echoing auditorium, Leave this wealth to our successors. Now our year is nearly ended, Now our happy days are passing, Days of triumph, days of rapture, Are becoming few and fewer. This last year of high school study In our newly ilnished building Has been joyous beyond measure. Many years we've worked together, Every year still more progressing, Under guidance of our teachers. Much we thank them for their labor, For their part in our advancement: More than all, our superintendent, Who has ever been our leader, Who has faithful been and steadfastg Ever just in choosing for us, Settling things beyond our judgment, For his part in all our school life Gratitude, sincere and lasting, Now the Class of Nineteen Eleven Extend to our friend and teacher. Forth departing on our journey, On our journey never ending, We shall soon be fairly started On the world's great shining pathway. Hand in hand, in peace we've traveled. Now our tasks must be divided, But though miles are placed between us, And though far in life we wander, We shall ne'er forget each other We shall love the memory ever Of the days we spent together. ISA BULLOCK.

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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,

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AUDITORIUM