Kalona High School - Centerika Yearbook (Kalona, IA)

Page 11 text:

leHE GE Niiee RU KA 9 Juniors STANDING: LEFT TO RIGHT—Wallace Gingerich, Seth Eimen, Walter Reber, Vir Jones, Walter Marner. SITTING: LEFT TO RIGHT—Ervin Eash, Esther Yoder, Melva Gingerich, George Hess. J is for Juniors at Center High, Who are the students that never cry. U is for union, Found among us Juniors. Nis for not or never, A word from which the Juniors are severed. I is for importance, Which no Senior will find with only one glance. O is for olives so green, Near which any Freshman can be seen. Ris for roughness at play, Which every Sophomore takes part in every day. S is for sense so sound Which the Jnuiors alone have found. E. Y. ’29 JUNIOR CLASS PLAY The Junior Play, “Aaron Slick From Punkin Crick’”’, a three-act comedy, was given Thursday and Friday nights, March 29 and 30. The play was well attended and well delivered both nights. The cast of characters was well chosen and ‘‘Aaron Slick from Pumkin Crick’, who was somewhat slick himself, nearly gave the crowd spasms. Be- twen acts the audience was ably entertained by the negro minstrels. Cast of Characters Aaron Slick Mr. Wilbur Merridew ................---- Walter Reber G@larence Green 22...-.--2..-2---2 - Walter Marner MrT OS Ys OTL Y oo. hiedscclcaco 2e:- Esther Yoder Gladys May Merridew .......-...- Melva Gingerich Benen Garl Ite HOG) 22.6 acc-2ecseces Marjorie Hukill Little Sis Riggs .....--..... Agnes Swartzendruber Motel Guests .........-- Cecil Bontrager , Arvilla Eimen , Ferne Wertz , Delmar Brenneman Negro Minstrels Lloyd Fry ’ Vir Jones, Wallace George Hess, and Ervin Eash. Members of other classes who assisted the Jun- iors. Gingerich, WHAT EACH JUNIOR WANTS Seth Eimen—to be left alone. Melva Gingerich—a little more time to stand on the register. Wallace Gingerich—a private conversation with lit- tle Marjorie. George Hess—a little more time to talk with Fresh- man girls. Vir Jones—lots of time for looking out the window. Walter Marner—his mother’s consent to go with girls. Walter Reber—chance to use his dad’s Ford. Esther Yoder—more time to chew gum at school. Ervin Eash—a patent hair curler. THE FATE OF TWO LITTLE NEGROES Once two little negroes started to school. They never thought of minding the rule. So when they thought they might be late, They spied a pond and decided to skate. Their skates they buckled on their feet, And then with joy the ice did greet. “Say Rastus,’”’ said Sam, “I’m feeling fine. I don’t care if I get to school at half-past nine.” As they skated along and all cares did lack, The ice gave way with a terrific crack. Now they had cast their lot, For a nice cold drenching they surely got. They came out on the bank a tripping, With ice cold water from them dripping. “Now,” said Rastus, “I’m going to school, For I’m through acting the fool.” And down the road they did scurry, For they were in an awful hurry. And all they got for their fun, Was a drenching, and a whipping after that was done. Sa A]

Page 10 text:

8 a Hee CE Nl Bene kA Reber, is hereby appointed administrator of the above will. Done before me this twenty-first day of April and in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and twenty-eight at Center High School, Kalona, Towa. lil, (@, IPI a; J. B. DINSDALE SUSAN HAUFFER Notary Public Witnesses CLASSES OF ’28 F is for Freshmen Who are shy and green; They keep themselves hid Because they are afraid to be seen. S is for Sophomores Who are bold and sassy; They are always clumsy When they ought to be classy. J is for Juniors Who are feeble and weak; They nearly die Every six weeks. Sis for Seniors, The best of them all; They are all mighty— Both the large and the small. —F’. S, 728 PHONTOMS OF DARKNESS Jimmy Rand’s greatest weakness lay in his fear of the dark. And—as fate would have it, nightfall had just overtaken him and a pal on a long hike along the Motsego River. “Gosh, Dick, I sure hate to sleep out here all night, but it looks like we’d have to,” said Jimmy after a long period of silence, punctuating his speech with short, rapid breathing from the exertion of the last few miles. They proceeded a few rods, glancing about them in the meantime, and soon espied a satisfactory site for their camp. Gathering together a few limbs and digging up some sod, they hurriedly built a lean-to, a fragile affair to say the least, and made ready for the night. After boiling a few fish which had remained from their meal at noon and eating them without any salt, they crawled beneath the rustic shelter and prepared to sleep. But to Jimmy, sleep was as distant an hour later as it had ever been. Every sound startled him! For several minutes the conversation of his com- panion had steadied his nerves, but now the steady breathing of Dick bore evidence to the fact that he had fallen asleep. From overhead the long weird hoot of an owl floated to Jimmy’s ears, and brought out cold beads of perspiration on his head. He lay rigid for a time, but the sound was not repeated and at last weariness overcame him and he fell asleep. Several hours later a noise outside the lean-to awoke him and he stretched out his arm to awaken his companion. Horrors! His place was vacant. What had happened? He was afraid to get up, yet it was torture to lie there Suddenly a long, low, almost inaudible moan, as of one in pain reached his ears. His blood curdled. Then a branch some- where above him cracked. He could hear it falling —falling—falling. A terrific crash smote his ears. the lean-to. But just then—Jimmy awoke, lying in a heap beside his bed. Curses on those pickles he had eaten the night before. It had crushed KF. P25 THE CLASS OF TWENTY-EIGHT On the eighth of September in twenty-four, Thirteen Freshmen entered our door. These students came, we know not why, To be charter students of Center High. Our first year ended in twenty-five; Our class was smaller but still alive; And who of this class will forget the day, When at Cedar Rapids we had our fray? The year twenty-five to twenty-six, The year even girls tried to whittle sticks, Of the class that once numbered eleven, There remained to finish only seven. As days passed on, And battles o’er lessons were won, We had our debate, And—why that’s too much to relate. Through four years we have gone, But still nine to this class belong. We have toiled, sometimes failed; And ere long we will have sailed Out from our Alma Mater’s care, The joys and burdens of life to share. J. S. 728 Charles: Victor, do you have your Geometry? Victor: Yes, in my book but not in my head. Lloyd F: This steak tastes queer. Marjorie: I can’t understand it, dear. I did burn it a little, but I rubbed vaseline on it right away.

Page 12 text:

10 THE CENTERIKA Sophomores STANDING: LEFT TO RIGHT—Lois Bontrager, Marjorie Hukill, Cecil Bontrager. FRONT ROW: LEFT TO RIGHT—Agnes Swartzendruber, Edna Yoder, Arvilla Eimen, Ferne Wertz. TO CENTER HIGH Oh, our dear old Center High, Long may you live. This shall ever be our cry. As long as we shall live. Many are the memories, — We shall ever hold of thee.-. How we sat beneath the trees, And studied our geometry. - And oh those good hot lun¢hes! Served by a splendid cools, There we gathered around in bunches, And of them partook. How we love our dear instructors, And the patience that they had. They were always our protectors, And would tell us, ‘‘Don’t be bad.” So dear Center, we love thee. To thee we will ever be true, Speak a good word, and respect you, In everything we say or do. Co 18 BC RIDDLES They can read. They can write. They can talk, And they can fight. They can work. They can play. But they can never fool their time away.—Sopho- mores. A. S. 730 THE CLASSES OF CENTER HIGH The Freshmen, as we say, are green. And for that reason may easily be seen. And when from classes you hear them come, You would think a foot race was being run. The Sophomores when things go wrong as they sometimes will, © And the road they’re walking seems uphill, And when cares are pressing them down a bit, They rest awhile but never quit. The Juniors are a brassy bunch, And when work is required they always need a hunch. Their pencils from working problems are soon used up, But they keep on and never give up. Then the Seniors come last of all. Some are short and some are tall. Where-ever we go the sound comes, to our ears, Of something they did in their four years. M. He 30 THE ’EST OF THE SOPHOMORE CLASS Tallest—Marjorie Hukill Heaviest—Agnes Swartzendruber Livliest—Arvilla Eimen Funniest—Lois Bontrager Quietest—Edna Yoder Slowest—Cecil Bontrager Shortest—Ferne Wertz C.-Bi30