Lancaster High School - Mirage Yearbook (Lancaster, OH)

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Slips one more year into silence; Has the Junior year departed To be gone from them forever. Chieftans On the hill of old Mulberry, At the towering red-brick school house, At the door way of the school house, In the pleasant autumn morning, Al the teachers stood and waited, Waited full of expectation, Till the Seniors in their glory, Till the great and mighty Seniors, Came; and to them thus the teachers, All the Juniors, Sophomores, Freshmen, Spake, and bade them hearty welcome; “It is well,” they said, “Oh Seniors”, That you come again among us. All our school in peace awaits you, All our rooms stand open for you, You shall enter any classroom, For the heart’s right-hand we give you ! Then the Seniors answered saying, “We have listened to your welcome, We have heard your words of kindness, We will think on what you tell us.” So they organized, those Seniors, Organized, and for their leader, Did they choose that same tall class-mate, Who had been their Junior chief tan, Many were their feats of valor, But among them all, the greatest That which set the town a-wondering, That which made the High School tremble, At the daring of these Seniors, Was the great November Carnival; Happy were these active Seniors When success had crowned their efforts, When success had lighted boldly On ‘1 4’s glorious banner. After the unheard of coldness, The intolerable Winter, Came the Spring with all it’s splendors, All its birds and all its blossoms, And again ‘14’s fair banner Hung above the glimmering footlights. This year was their play “The Sophomore”, And the play won fame and honor. Won extended fame and honor, For ‘14’s dramatic art. But at last arose the Seniors, From the class-rooms rose the Seniors, Bade farewell to all their teachers, To the Juniors, Sophomores, Freshmen, Bade farewell, and spake in this wise. To those whom they left behind them; “We are going, oh dear people, On a long and distant journey. To the land of Life we travel, To the unknown Land before us. Many moons and many winters Will have come and will have vanished. When we finally reach our purpose In the Land of the Hereafter.”

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All your strength is in your union, All your danger is in discord. Go now to your awaiting teachers, They will help you, and instruct you, Till you reach greater knowledge, Till you gain a Sophomore’s state.” Thence departed each one straight way, Studied, grew, and dwelt together, 'rill in peace, with silent footstep, Slipped one year from them for-ever. Braves Once more when the Autumn sunlight Filled the sky with haze and vapor, Touched the rugged hills with smooth- ness, Bro’t the tender Indian summer, To the school on old Mulberry, Came again the Class of ‘14, Came the valiant class of Sophomores. And so quiet were these people, So discreet, so conscientious, That the great and lofty Seniors, Condescend inly did smile upon them, And did say, “To these sweet creatures Will we give our highest honor, Will we give the honor we sought for By each separate class, each teacher. We will dedicate our annual, The “Mirage”, our famous paper, To the meek and gentle sophomores. To our gentle sister class”. Then our principal, who learning How they studied, how they toiled!!! How unceasingly were their efforts To bring honor to the school, Made for all an Indian picnic, Made a wonderous, festive gathering On Mt. Pleasant’s rugged brow. And they feasted long and merry, Feasted till the cake had vanished. Feasted till the moon rose slowly, Till the moon rose from the water, Rippling, rounding, from the water. Thus again a year departed.— Slipped from them with silent footsteps, Slipped from them a year forever. Warriors “Great men die and are forgotten.” Wise men speak; their mighty words Perish in the cars that hear them. From the memory of the old men Pass away the great traditions. Thus the glory of the Juniors Must depart, must be forgotten, Unless painted with bold brush strokes In the ancient halls of time. Many figures must be painted, Each some word or thot suggesting; First a group, a class united, Drawn in colors black and yellow; Standing at. their head a leader, He of all the group the tallest. Next a tiny dot of gold, A triangular yellow dot, Gold which ‘14’s emblem bears, Must on this canvas painted be. Youths and maidens next arc gathered, Where the footlights shed their glimmer, Where the spectators, applauding, Shower praise upon “The Freshman”. In the spacious halls next painted, Stands the class, the class of ‘14, Talking laughing, greeting parents,—• Parents who enjoy the pleasure That is in each face reflected. Foot-prints towards a great hall pointing, Are a sign of invitation, Are a sign of guests assembling At the annual Junior-Senior. Figures strange and brightly colored, Figures mystical and awful, Each some class-mate representing, Must be painted on this canvas. Songs of mirth ,songs of gladness, Songs of love and songs of parting, All are written in these figures, For each figure has it’s meaning, Each it’s separate song recording. With this jubilant chorus ended

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Class $ropfjcSjt Hv Howard Wilson After graduation in ‘14, I entered the Curtiss Aviation School to train for the aviation department of the White Star Line. When I had spent four years at the school 1 was given command of a large trans-atlantic aeroplane. I made many successful voyages to Europe, but in the year 1925 while on a voyage from New York to London, I encountered a heavy storm and the aeroplane was wrecked. All the passengers and crew except myself were drowned. Clinging to a bit of framework, drifting aimless- ly about the ocean for many days, I fin- ally landed on a small island in mid- ocean. Here I managed to subsist on the berries and fruits which grew on the island. After four years of isolation I was picked up by a huge liner. When I was once on board I was given some clothes to take the place of the tattered rags which I wore. I ate a hearty meal after which I sauntered up to the upper deck, intending to take a little stroll but I had not gone ten paces before one of the deck-hands tapped me on the shoulder and informed me that the Cap- tain wished to speak to me. I followed the man to the bridge, where the Cap- tain stood. Something in the poise of the man seemed strangely familar as he stood there looking out to sea. When he turned and faced me. I received one of the greatest surprises of my life, for the Captain was none other than Allen Silbaugh. After much questioning I found that Allan had decided to put his training received at Buckeye Lake into practical use, and had secured a position on a big steamship. After many years of service he was promoted to the posi- tion which he now held. With him on this voyage was his wife, formerly Flor- ence Hughes. Allen invited me to have dinner with him that evening, saying that he had a surprise for me. The af- ternoon passed and the time for dinner was at hand. When I went to the Cap- tain’s table I was indeed surprised, for there sat Flora Mercer, who was return- ing from a concert tour on the conti- nent. She imformed me that she had appeared before all the crowned heads of Europe. With her was her manager Paul Sexauer. Paul had attained fame by the publication of his latest song hit, entitled, “Why Don’t You Marry Me Now?” After several days the ship reached New York. Here I reported at headquarters, and received a three months vacation, and my back pay. After purchasing some new clothes I walked down town. Stopping before a big store in the heart of the business district, I noticed a sign hanging above the entrance. It said, “Abbot and Com- pany, Wholesale and Retail Shoe Deal- ers”. The name was familar to me, so I walked in and asked to see the pro- prietor. I was shown to a large office and there in a big leather chair sat Hack Abbot. Hack was surprised to see me, and in the course of our conversa- tion, he informed me that Lillian would be down in a short time and wanted me to wait, but I was in a hurry and had to leave him. As I walked down lower Broadway I saw another sign before a large theater. The sign informed me that “Hazel Wadsworth Appears To- night in the Greatest Show of the Sea- son !” Of course I immediately made inquiries at the box office, and by means