Jackson High School - Osky Wow Yearbook (Jackson, OH)

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W (feluj Hmu §iaff. 1312 Editor-in-chief.. Literary Ekiitor Athletic Ekiitor Society Editor.. Joke Editor..... Alumni Editor .. Vinton E. McVicker, ’12 .....Sibyl M. Powell, ’13 .....Samuel Slavens, ’13 .....Louise DeLay, ’ll .....Elizabeth Jones, ’13 .....Crandall Bentley, ’01 Business Manager................................................ Fletcher C. Benton, ’12 Assistant Business Manager........................................Everett Alexander, ’13 Reporters Ethel Eubanks, ’14; William Long, ’14; Jean Jones, ’15 Twenty-one

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School; and 'thatTFlorence' 'Brown had founded fne Jackson School for Girls” in which Eda Nickell was head of the domestic science department, and Hazel Marshman and Merle Eubanks were teachers of Latin and mathematics respectively. While we were talking 1 noticed in the window of a bookstore this sign: ‘Read the Reason Why,’ the latest work of Corrine Davis, the great novelist.” In the same window was the announcement of a lecture to be given that night by Professor V. E. McVicker of Dartmouth College. I certainly should like to hear it. Going further down the street we came to the Grand Opera House, a very beautiful structure. On the announcement card I read: Tonight, Miss Lucile Hall, starring in The Follies of 1932. Special music by I. T. Branson.” Well, we walked on down past the Opera House until we were opposite the postoffice, a very fine looking building. I wished to go through it so we crossed the street and entered. At the door we met a lady, who, Bartlett said, was Edith Turner. She is married now and lives in Coalton, a suburb of Jackson. At the stamp window was a very fine looking woman, whom Bartlett introduced to me as Marie Walker. What fun I used to have with her1 We left the postoffice and walked back up Main street. On the directory of one of the large office buildings I saw Dr. J. E. Christman, Osteopath,” and on a sign over a large millinery store the name of Mary Kinnison. Soon a newsboy came by crying: Extra! Extra! All about the exploration of the planet Mars! Extra!” We bought a paper and read the account of this exploration, which we found had been made by the great Professor W. E. Peters! What do you suppose he’ll do next! It was almost luncheon time now, so we went back to the hotel. As I had a few minutes to spare, I looked over the newspaper. In the society column was a detailed account of a large dinner given the night before by Mrs.------, well her name used to be Margaret Mitchell. Do you remember the good times we had at her home? After a delicious luncheon, I again started out, this time going down Broadway Street. One of the first things I saw was this sign over a large department store: W. O. Michael and Co.” Shall you ever forget the fun we used to have with Billy? Meeting a policeman, I asked him to direct me to the Public Library, and his voice and manner as he told me the way seemed so familiar that I asked his name and was surprised to find that it was Dave Davis. I certainly was glad to see him. According to his directions I went on down Broadway Street until I came to a beautiful building, which I at first thought was the library, but upon coming closer to jt 1 saw over the door The Blanche Peters Home for Aged Suffragettes,” so I looked farther for the library. It proved to be next door and I entered and made my way to the reading room, which I found in charge of Gladys Parry. She is just as pretty as ever. Imogene Brown is her assistant, but she wasn’t there that day so I didn’t get to see her. While I was there a beautiful woman came in, whom I recognized as Mayme Caldwell, at least her name used to be Caldwell. She asked for a book (I don’t remember the title) by Senator E. Jones, who, she explained, was a member of the class of 1912, Eben Jones. I stayed here and gossiped so long that I had to hurry back to the hotel without looking around any more. The ship was almost ready to start, so I just had time to thank Mr. Gibson for helping me spend the time so pleasantly and get myself and baggage in my compartment. Of course 1 did not reach home until the next day, but it was really worth the time lost to see and hear about so many old friends. My dear, when are you coming to make me a visit? I want to see you so much. Do come soon. Give my love to all the children and write to me. Yours as ever, Louise. Twenty

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Maa’ lar i lnrg VERkill a bear, Silas?” asked Zeb, the clerk at Jim Davis’ general purpose store, the other night. ‘Y-yes,” said Silas. ‘‘Tell us about it,” said everybody, ‘Turty long story—and—I reckon you wouldn’t be interested, anyway,” said Silas. ‘‘Tell it! Tell it!” everybody shouted. ‘‘All right, it wus this way,” said Silas. ‘‘Lem Smith had a cousin come to visit him from New York—about thirty years ago. He wus a sickly lookin’ chap, an’ had come here to take pictures of wil’ animals. ‘‘Lem was busy, so he wanted me to take the feller out. Well—I hadn’t heard of any wil’ animals bein’ in the near vicinity, so I tuk the feller out. ‘‘I guess we wus purty near Ned Smith’s sugar house, when—holy smoke!—right in the middle o’ the path wus a great big bar! I tuk to one tree, and Randolph to another, and that bar sot right down underneath o’us and looked with longin’ eyes on Randolph. ‘‘This scares Randolph purty bad, so he sez, sez he: ‘Si,’ sez he, ‘Si, ye git down an drive that bar away.’ “ ‘Powerful sorry tu dissipint ye, but under the circumstances I guess I stay right here,’ sez 1, huggin’ the tree a little closer. “ ‘Why Silas,’ sez he, ‘yu don’t mean tu dissipint me do yu? Any way I’ll burry yu with honors,’ an’ he purty nigh busts out cryin’, an’ then he went on namin’ the things he’d have at my fun’rel; all I remember, now, was that he wus a-goin’ tu git my coffin made o’ mahogany, with two angels on the lid, with their hands pinted up’ards, an’ that the tombstone wus agoin’ to have the words ‘gone above’ chiseled on it. ‘‘ Wal, it wus gittin’ near dark, an’ I wus gittin ready tu clime down an’ sacrifice myself tu that bar, when Randolph remembers his camery. ‘‘‘Silas! Silas!’ squaks he, ‘don’t ye dare scare that bar away—why if I kin git a good picture o’him, it wil be wuth a hundred dollars,’ he sez. ‘‘Wall, partly them figgers and partly that bar persuaded me from makin’ a dash for liberty right thar an’ then, so I hugged my tree a little, an’ I sez: ‘‘ ‘Wall, take your picture, an’ tell the bar tu git way back, fer I’m cornin’ down.' ‘‘Randolph got out his photographin’ things, which he gits ready. “ ‘Hurry up.’ sez I. “ ‘Silas, don’t drap! don’t drap!’ he yells. “ ‘Forces, which I cain’t control, is a-goin’ to make me drap in about two minutes,’ sez I. “ ‘Jist stick on one minute longer!’ squeals he. ‘‘Bang! Flash! Kerplunk! ‘‘The bang was caused by the Hash light or sumthin’ like that, I guess thot wus whot he called it; the Hash was caused by whot comes after the bang, and the kerplunk wus caused by me! ‘‘Whin I lit, I lit so soft I thought I had jist passed into everlastin’ peace, so I jist laid thar with my eyes shut, ’spectin’ tu see an angel with a harp o’gold, come tu wake me up; but, instead, I heard Randolph: “ ‘Is he dead, Silas, is he dead?’ Thin I seed whar I wus an’ I also seed the bar a lyin’ thar, still-Uke, on the ground, so I hollers weak-like:- ‘Yis,’ sez I. ‘‘ ‘Wall thin, I’ll come down,’ sez he. “ ‘We got old Ben Brown tu haul the bar home, thu next day, and Randolph made some pictures frum whot he tuck o’ the bar. The picture showed me and the bar. I had my head firmly planted in old Bruin’s lunch basket, an’ it looked as if I had hit him with considerable force. We held a post-mortum exam’nation, next day, an’ Doc. Suttle examined the bar. Twenty-two