Judyville High School - Jargon Yearbook (Judyville, IN)

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Zlargnn 27 Ghz tu the beninrs O, here's to the Seniors Before they depart. That they might remember us, Ever deep in their hearts. Yes, here's to the Seniors, Whom all shall miss. In hours of study And moments of bliss. No more shall their voices Echo on the stairs: For clear voices are heard That are other than theirs. Their bright faces are missing Their smiles are not here. For they have departed To all parts of the sphere. Though Father Time may keep fleeing And dark shadows o'er them do creep. We shall always remember them Till dead--we do sleep. Cecil Abel-'28. why? One day in our Geometry class I was told to stand right up, And to explain a proposition That another had given up. Oh, how often do I rue that day I felt as if I'd cry, 'Cause everything I'd do or say I had to tell them Why, Evelyn Etchison-329. M rs. Shand-- Who wrote Shalcespea1'e's 'Julius Caesar ?' Dom- Hamlet I think. Page thirty-11 i-nv

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io Eiatgnn Glu the Jfresbie We've been noisy Freshmen With noisy pranks and play, And we've listened to the Seniors Having what they will to say. Take warning then, ye Freshies Keep fresh while you may, For remember while you're young Seniors may be getting gray. Oh, you happy joyous Freshmen You will have your hours of glee With your hair cut in boy-style And your dresses to your knee. These High Stuck-up Seniors May say it's quite a sin To be a green little Freshie But they wish they were one again. - Dora Hurley--'28 jfacts Shout 31. 19. Sa. Oh! Judyville we hold you dear, For here, we spent the happiest days of the yearg There are Freshies who number twenty-four, And the Sophomores number twelve, maybe more. The Juniors are so happy and merry, Being so lucky to have a Fairie, The Seniors happen to number seven, And one girl weighs a hundred and 'leven. We seem to like our teachers fine, Mr. Brewer, he is fifty-nine. Mrs. Shand won't tell her age, But I'm sure she's past the green-apple stage. Mr. Stephenson is twenty four, He won't tell his age, so maybe itls more. He's married now so girls beware! Don't sit and admire his bright red hair. Vivian Carlson-'29 The Aman who counts in this world-the cashier. l'uqc thirty-eight

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19 Zlargnn 27 when Truth iBIapeiJ Jfalse The sun shone through purple hues upon a wide and vast forest, up- on the fragrant blossoming flowers and the living mass of green. No earthly place could be more compared to the Garden of Eden. In great contrast to the happiness thus portrayed walked a young man with slow and unsure steps. Judging from his looks he was in a deep and pensive mood. In just such condition was Michael Levinski. Away from his home he was going, for his mother had died and left him, an orphan, with no one to love and comfort him. Nothing but the words of his dying mother, Michie, be true to my teachings and ever be honest and truth- ful, Whatever may be the cost. Thus he Walked through the beautiful woodland headed toward a small village, Thieste. Here he hoped to get work and be close to Alice Terry, the only person left on earth for whom he cared. Walking down the street until he came to a restaurant and hav- ing allayed his hunger, he went to the mill to get a job. After having been asked many questions he secured a job and immediately went to work. That evening he called on Alice who was ever glad to see him. He told her of his tragedy and she understood. So the weeks flew past, each one bringing Alice and Michie to a greater love. Often they would walk up in- to the mountains where Michie wished to build his Dream Home and roam for hours planning for their future. A year passed by and still Alice and Michie weren't married. But in that time he'd won the title of honesty and truth. In cases the jury al- ways believed his account and based their verdict on it. Everybody in town liked him, everyone but a man who meant very much to Michie's future-Alice's uncle. He would not consent to their marriage. Her parents died when she was an infant and left her in care of her Uncle Jake, in whom Alice had taken great interest. But now he was drinking, would curse her, slur Michael, making things very unpleasant for the would-be bride. One night Michie decided to have an earnest talk with Mr. Terry and see if he would consent to their marriage. As he slowly walked up the little cinder path leading to the back door he knew something very unusual was happening for their were unusual sounds and loud voices. As he stepped upon the porch and looked in he heard Mr. Terry curse Alice and no sooner had he done that than she hit him in the head with a broom. A gasp, a muttered sound and he fell to the floor. Michie entered and upon examining him found that he was dead. He could hardly real- ize it for he knew the penalty of murder in Thieste was usually death. Oh, Alice! Our career for which we have planned is spoiled before begunf' Michie, dear, you do not realize how much I have taken from Uncle Jake. He whips me, beats me, curses me. Oh, forgive me, Michieg my ang- er over ran all love. She swears that she has nerer been kissed-no 'wonder she szvea-rs. I-'aye forty