Ipswich High School - Tiger Yearbook (Ipswich, MA)

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SALUTATORY A Stone in the House of Life To the school committee, superintend- ent, principal, teachers, to friends, rel- atives, and to all here this evening, we, the class of 1919, wish to extend our heartiest welcome to our graduation which is one of the greatest events in our lives. With colors that never fade will this evening be painted upon our memories and remain there eternally. Never, regardless of how great the storm and wind may rage, will thart work of numerous years be washed from our thoughts. In time uf desolation and oppression we shall be consoled by the ashes of the fiery glory which we are thrown into to-night. Friends — we have come together this evening, not only to celebrate the successful termination of our High School career, but to unveil the cor- ner stone which has taken us so many la- borious days to carve into its present form. As we let our memory float back to the dawn of our school course, we can distinct- ly remember how hopelessly we glanced forth into the pathless way to success. Like a helpless ship on an agitated sea, we battled with strong minds against so- cial pleasures in order that we might im- pel a path through the dense mist before us. Clutching the wheel of time we slow- ly directed our course to the results of this evening. Many a tale we hear to-day of how bravely oor boys went through the firing line, ready to give up their very lives, every thing, for their country. Be- fore them these lads saw more than Huns and shot and shell. Illuminated, like Diana on a cold, dark night in the sky, was that wonderful corner stone of the temple of peace. Likewise we toiled vigorously. Many times our hands went up in despair and hate crept into our hearts. How often during the midst of the battle our only dangerous thought was, “Give Up!” But no — ' before us through the gloom and shadow of the night we saw the reward which w as patiently awaiting our coming. At the time of Columbus, Cabot, and Magellan, a timid little acorn fell to the earth. From that wee seed a powerful oak tree developed. To-day it reigns above all other trees. Every limb stretches up into the sky each seeming to want to grasp the bright sun in its twigs. It is among mother nature’s most perfect children. In like manner each in our class started con- structing his house of life. Each tried to construct his as well as he could. Thus as an army we marched in triumph to find success. Discouragement and melancholy will be ready to greet us at every turn, but Ave hope the aim is high enough to keep us all from hesitating and probably falling from the straight path. If by chance one of our army falls to the roadside we hope that the ideal of our class will be strong enough in him to start him forth again on the road of prosperity. This eA ening each member of 1919 is laying the corner stone of his house of life. When we separate Ave must all enter the dark future alone. Let us all hope that each will erect the tower of his house with the same earnestness and ability with which he laid the foundation. Again friends Ave stretch our hands out to you to shoAv our appreciation of your presence. May in years to come Hebe, the goddess of youth, have mercy on us and condescend to let us once more meet in this same youthful spirit. And, you my class mates, who have been so near to me for many years, do not grieve at this part- ing for it is a moment of joy croAvned with a sigh. 2 CORA BENEDIX, ’19.

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THE TIGER Vol. I. IPSWICH, MASS, JUNE, 1919 No. 2 EDITORIAL STAFF. Editor-in-chief, LUCY BAILEY, ’19. Assistant Editor, GEORGIA REID, ’19. Business Manager, I1ILDRED DAVIS, ’19. Assistant Business Manager, ALTIIEA IlAYES, ’19. LITERARY EDITORS : Ethelinda Tucker, ’19 Edith Spyut, ’19 Howard Doughty, ’21 Sporting, Social, and Alumni Editor Myrtle Goddit, ’19 Exchange Editor William Tucker, ’19 Class Reporters j Cora Benedix, ’19 Mary Gordon, ’20 Dorothy Hall, ’21 Katherine Reddy, ’21 Julia Doughty, ’22

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CLASS HISTORY How well I remember that day! Nine- ty-seven we stood, as a whole to be auc- tioned off to the highest bidder. Our num- ber was great, but; our size was small, in- deed. Girls in short dresses with pig-tails down their backs! Boys in short pants, and their hair neatly parted by their fond and adoring mamas on that eventful morning ! A very unprepossessing bunch, but for all that WE were the future Fresh- men of the Manning High School. There we stood, waiting for the bidders to ap- pear, on that heap of clay and mud at the side of the High School, which once we hoped to use for a skating rink. But w ' e waited in vain for no bidders appeared, and so at last Mr. Marston, our adored principal, came out and said that he ' d consider us as future Freshmen, if he could buy Georgie Mayes, on account of his size, and have the rest of us thrown in to boot, if we could guarantee that we ’d all be the same as Georgie at the end of four years. Of course, we said we’d try, and since that time we have diminished — in number not in size — as Georgie can still testify. And so we, ninety-seven poor soared rabbits, were admitted as Freshmen, but we were the greenest of green, the most verdant of Freshmen, and many were our experiences as such. We were totally ignored by the Seniors, looked down on by the juniors, and snubbed by the Sophomores. We lived through it all, however, even though our roots still had a tendency to linger over in the grammar school. So now, you see before you the cream of the last four years’ school work, the Senior Class. Our motto is, “Get out of as much work as you can, cut, skip periods, anything at all, on- ly don’t work too hard!” George Mayes, still our leader, has been the best example we could follow. He’s great as to breadth, saintly in disposition, and the best slacker at work you ever have seen. He couldn’t be beaten in Eng- lish, that is, at not knowing anything, for whenever we’d hear that despised, “What is the meaning of this next passage in your words, Mayes?” we’d just as surely hear George’s, “I dunno.” His best accomplice at skinning out of anything was Sammie Gordon. Now, Sammie, is the nicest boy imaginable, but he’s also the slipperiest. He was ‘ 1 Slippery Slim ’ ’ the second. His chief hobby was to cut Spanish, and if anyone should ask, “Where’s Gordon?” “Aw — he’s absent!” would sing out Aut Caverly, but we all knew that Sammie was matching pennies somewhere, and more of- ten than not Aut Caverly was with him. We did other things besides skipping classes. We became great hair dressers. Althea Hayes set the pace, and we — all followed! If we wanted some new style for our hair, we’d patiently wait with baited breath for her next sunbeam of new style hairdressing, and then it w T ould appear (the hair, I mean.) and A1 would burst out : “My dear, can you imagine it!” Then that swjeet, but adorable, Toot Davis would chime : “Say Al, Where did you get it?” but it was no sooner out of Toot’s mouth than Lucy Bailey would say : “Aw, Toot, you joy-killer. Don’t you suppose we want to know something about the newest way to do up our amber locks?” You see, Lucy had just been imbibing rather freely of Milton. Lucy has become so used to riding in a flivver that her mind has become deranged and taken a poetical twist. Then from the back of the room would come a faint, yet persistent buzz, which would at last merge into, “As idle as a painted ship, upon a painted ocean” Cora Benedix — talking about herself ! Toot and Cora just simply 3