The Illman School - Span Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

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This is the dreamer, St. Muffin Ebert. By the poetic cast of his countenance you see his artistic soul revealed. Not even a geometry recitation is aesthetic enough to keep his thoughts from Sunny Italy. Hush ! He speaks : I'm but a stranger here, Italy's my home. Behold him weep I Now for Dew-nose Foster. See him standing there in his manly athletic beauty. Notice the worried expression on his face. No wonder, though, he is arranging the schedule of the track team, running the stage management of the Dramatic Club, balancing the accounts of the Athletic Association and the Dance Committee, and planning an intricate correspondence with three separate girls. Ah! he has solved all the problems at the same moment, and will now go out in search of some gum, so let us move on. There sirolls upon zfhe nexz' playform a fall, gffaeejhl, handsome figure, wiffz ez sz'1fz'kz'7zg'j5011z- padozw' azzdflashing black eyes. Ah I Something great, surely ! But alas I a vacant stare comes into his face, he pulls a tobacco pouch from his pocket, lights up and strolls out, to use his own words, the poetry of motion, That, my friend, is E. Fenton Gilbert, and his only accom- plishment, but you must admit that what he does, he does well. q Here in the next booth is an example of what civilization will do for a savage, for this cultured, handsome youth you see before you was once no more than Grindin Grandin, from Tidioute. He has renounced all his native customs, clothes and manners, and while the process is not quite completed, some day he may become quite cultivated. Now this next exhibit is a tank, as you see. The performer is F. H. Hardy, aquatic champion of the world. You don't see him? O, well, you know he is also a wonderful artist and like all genii, somewhat forgetful. It is no use waiting, so let us proceed. Come over with me now to where you see that crowd doubled up with laughter. The per- forming clown is Si Hildreth, from Herkimer. NVe will not ,go any nearer as his antics might overcome us with mirth also. But his life is not all gayety, for like others of 'his tribe he has his hidden sorrow, you see he played on the IQO3 baseball team, poor boy. I5

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In the next booth is the accomplished Italian singer, Marston. gt At any time you you can hear his deep contralto voice thrilling forth an aria from Winsoriie W'innie, or the Tenderfoot, while he accompanies himself on a mandolin or guitar. It is very beautiful-what I You don't think so? O, but everyone cannot appreciate good music. The next exhibit is the great journalist, S. S. Mitchell, jr., the editor of the News which thrills the school once a week, more or less, with its harrowing account of school life and events. Hearst isn't in it at all, goodness no I Now, my friend, we have come to something unusual. It is J. B. Nichols, the Perfect Man. Notice the Walk I Ah-h-h I The melodious tones of his voice I I The cleverness of his sallies I I I His polished manners I I I And yet some said the Form of which he was a part was kid- dish I Why, there is enough dignity in that one figure to counter-balance the frivolity of fifty others. Next we have the All-Around 'Man-Ros. Park, Ir. There is nothing in athletics at which he is not an adept, there is hardly a school paper which he does not manage, as a natural musician he is unexcelled, and as for his social-well, he is modest and we will say nothing about that. It would take too long for him to go through his different performances for us, but some day we will watch him conduct a Form meeting when some mild question is under discussion, which will make it safe for us to go in. Next we have another Titan, familiarly known as Cow Phillips, who in the Lawrence- ville game proved that his real name was Bull.'I His marks of distinction are the two pillars he owns for legs, and the possession of a brain in proportion to his body. Look out for your toe I I knew he would step on it. ' Here in the next booth you see the famous hunter and Indian scout, Father H Pugsley, who on the broad plains of Pottstown has shot many a wild beast and savage, Cin the shape of cows and trap-boysj. Notice what a lean, athletic build his open-air life has given him. In the next booth is a sad case. This is the once-famous anti-grafter Putnam, whose fierce contest against boodle once made him an object of admiration, but, alas! the subject got on his brain, and he is now a hopeless lunatic, mumbling snatches of Cicero and Dowie over a doll 17