La Grande High School - Mimir Yearbook (La Grande, OR)

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THE MIMIR Page 25 SCHOOL AND BONNIE SPRING (The Banks o’ Doon) Ye books and desks and gloomy rooms, Methinks ye look sae dull and bare, How can ye hold my mind and thots, When all outside is bright and fair? My will is all that makes me work, In studies, now no charm I see, For all my mind is fled outside, And only left a blank with me. Oft have I stayed in after school, To pay that thirty-minute fine, When I had loitered on the way, And failed to reach the school in time. Oh, it breaks my heart to sit and work, I ken there’s nothing I can learn, And to depart would be my joy— I’m sure I never would return. —Elizabeth Bond •Sir Now, Are You Educated? A professor of the University of Chicago told the students he should con- sider them educated in the best sense of the word when they could say “yes” to every one of the questions he should put to them, says the Pittsburg Dispatch. Here they are: Has education given you sympathy with all good causes, and made you espouse them ? Has it made you public-spirited? Has it made you a brother to the weak? Have you learned how to make friends and keep them ? Do you know what it is to be a friend yourself? Do you see anything to love in a little child ? Will a lonely dog follow you in the street? Can you be highminded and happy in the meanest drudgeries of life? Do you think washing dishes and hoeing corn just as compatible with high thinking as piano playing or golf? Are you good for anything yourself? Can you be happy alone? Can you look out in the world and see anything except dollars and cents ? Can you look into a mud puddle by the wayside and see a clear sky? Can you see anything in the puddle but mud ? Can you look into the sky at night and see behind the stars? —Willamette University Collegian.

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Page 24 () MARY LOVE, MY MARY (John Anderson, My Jo) THE M1MIR Oh, Mary love, my Mary, Tis long since first we met, Your bonnet pink with roses, Around your face was set, . Your eyes of deepest blue, dear, With mischief twinkled bright, The breeze played gently with your curls, • So glossy and so light. Oh, Mary love, my Mary, Why did you smile that day? A song went singing thru my heart. It was an old love lay. We roamed the hills together, And loitered by the streams, Now you’ve left me for another. But I still love my dreams. —Marjorie Kuchenthal 4C» 'o' SPRING (MacPherson’s Farewell) Farewell, ye winds so bleak and cold. For happy Spring is here, We’ll hear no more ill-omens told, Nor shed another tear. Chorus—Then merrily, then merrily, Then merrily we’ll sing, For what could please us more than this. To think of lovely spring. The buttercup in yonder glen, Uplifts its golden head, Bright sunshine fills the hearts of men, For frowning Winter’s dead. The violet from out the leaves, Has peeped with mien demure, And o’er the soft earth gently breathes. Its fragrance sweet and pure. —Lucile Mulkey

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Page 2(i TIIE M1MIR CLASS HISTORY Louisa Counsell and Blanche Black “I say, Blanche, what are we going to do about the class history ? Have you an idea yet?” “No, but I have been thinking. Suppose you come down tonight, and we will look thru some old Annuals and probably get an inspiration.” “All right. Seven-thirty, shall it be?” Accordingly at seven-thirty the Senior class historians were seated at a table strewn with paper and books. “I do believe we have the hardest task of all. Look here, Loui a. you dictate and I'll do the writing.” “Oh no! Two heads are better than one. See, I have found the class roll for 1912. You take down the names as I read them. Minna heads the list as usual, and you are holding your place as second. You have been president of the class from the eighth grade, haven’t you? Next is Carol Currey—say, did you like her the first time you saw her? I couldn’t see why everyone should be so fond of her.” “Well, there always was something more or less attractive about her. And there are Marjorie and Lenore, too; and they haven’t changed at all since I first knew them.” “Here’s Myrton’s name. Isn’t it strange that he has been so popular all this time? And you say he was even more so in the eighth grade. And here’s Charlotte, isn’t she a dear!” ■“Linked sweetness long drawn out!’ Who is next? Oh, Annecta, our own poet; she always has been an honor to the class.” “We are justly proud of her. Next is Edna Perryman, our heroine— ' she is graduating in spite of difficulties.” “Yes, indeed she is a heroine. And such themes! School wouldn’t be nearly such a drag if we could all write as she can. Earl is next? What would we have done these four years without Earl Reynolds to stand back of us in everything! By the way, do you remember an English test in which one of us defined a Knickerbocker writer as one who wore knickerbockers, and Miss HeTshey applied it to Earl, because he had not yet donned ‘longs’?” “Oh, yes! and it seems ages ago! Here is Leona’s name. Didn’t you find it hard to get acquainted with her? But it was worth the effort. And here is Arleigh Kammerer, another favorite. She can speak German to ‘beat the Dutch,’ can’t she? Next is Harold Newton.” “Skinny, you mean ? Don’t you really think he will be President or something some day?” “Most likely. These industrious people always make their way in the world. Here is Helen McDonald.” “What will the High School do for a chairman of the “eats” committee after Helen is gone ? Glad we had her for the Senior picnic, anyway. Ruth Taylor next? ‘The happiest women, like the happiest nations, leave no his- tory.’ Are there any more?” “Yes, Walter Young brings up the rear as usual. Was he as droll as a Freshman as he is now?” “Oh yes, and just as industrious. He will be a famous essayist, unless