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

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H20 S3 SEN IOR CLASS £2 JT5 H.H.S. S3 S3 SENIOR CLASS S3 1 Rto JUNIOR CLASS POEM We Juniors are a merry class — It’s we who have the fun; Jolly is every lad and lass, Since Freshmen we begun. Franklin is the smallest lad That our class can name; With his joking he runs us mad. But under Mr. Small he ' s tame. Mildred Wild surely can draw — We are proud of her skill. She pictures rain, snow and thaw. And the beauties of valley and hill. Florence L„ with her laughing ways. So winning and so neat; Even on gloomy days She always looks very sweet. Grace Nelson, an Ainsworth lass. In bookkeeping is a wonder; For three years has been in our class. And never makes a blunder. Dorothea of Deepriver — A town five miles away — Comes to school in a fliver. Which sometimes causes her delay. Walter works so very hard. And always makes good; He deserves a just reward — We don’t all study as we should. Frieda, with her smiling face. In history is very good; She knows just where to find the place. And recites just when she should. Selma knows her work. And with a smile recites; She was never known to shirk. And pride in us she excites. Martin, in plane geometry. Really is quite smart ; When it comes to solid geometry — Even then he knows his part. Edna in Hobart’s City Hall Some day soon will be — Serving us, one and all — A typist of ability. Dorothy is fond of primping — Is fond of shorthand, too; She spends some time in thinking Which of the two she prefers to do. Harry, in basketball. Certainly is a star ; When he is near, clear the hall — He’ll hit you near and far. Irene was a FYeshman with us; Now she takes commercial work; She’s not inclined to fuss, And on the grounds does never lurk. Lois Gross is fond of books — To the Library often goes To search and look in all the nooks For her favorite prose. Alice, always happy and gay. Comes to school in a ’bus; It matters not the kind of day — She is sure to be with us. Raphael comes to class Promptly on the dot; In English, her we can’t surpass; She’s pretty, and knows it not. “Farewell” to the Junior Class; Next year we’ll Seniors be; And may we be a merry mass, And live a life of glee. Twnty-Six ,q 20 S3 SENIOR CLASS g3 S3 H.H.5. 63 63 SENIOR CLASS S3 192 o