Lincoln High School - Ahdawagam Yearbook (Wisconsin Rapids, WI)

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The season for basket ball opened and two Sophomores made the team. In the tournament we came out third. Harold Babcock, one of our distinguished members, won first place in the oratorical contest, which was quite an honor to the Sophomores. This year closed without other important events. Of the original one hundred and eighteen pupils of our class forty-eight came back to start the third year of their high school career, while ten came to us from the class of 1913. This year we first began to realize the value of a high school education. We then began to spend our time in studying instead of gazing at the clock. This year also brought us new interests. The boys were ad- mitted to the Debating Society, while the girls entered the Literary Society. We also elected (lass officers. Myron Hill was elected President of our class. New studies were introduced in the school. The Junior boys have the distinction of having organized the first Trigonometry class of this school. Penmanship was introduced, much to the discom- fiture of the Junior class. Instead of the customary Junior Prom a class play was given, which was very successful. Our third year at high school thus passed swiftly away. Almost before we knew it we were Seniors. We were the leaders, the ones that set the pace for the whole school. We be- longed to the class that is respected and looked up to by the under classmen. Leon Foley was chosen as our President. Committees were chosen. Our ring and pins were ordered in due time. Senior class meetings were held very often, although not much was done. The girls discussed their next year’s dress with chiffon trimmings, while the boys talked over “Happy” Felsh’s home run swats. The days of the Senior year passed away much too fast for us and the few remaining days are flying faster than ever. We now frown at the clock as the hands swiftly go round and round. When these days are at an end, no longer will we welcome the ring of the bell at four o’clock; no longer will we watch the movement of the clock that watched over us when we were high school students. We have accomplished what we set out to do. Today we are to- gether, tomorrow we will be forever parted from the life that seemed to us so monotonous and so dreary. But we will never forget the many days that we spent in trying to better ourselves in the dear old Lincoln high, hope that they too reached ours. Others will hereafter take our places and will reach their destination as happily as F. A. BRANDECKER, ’14. we we Page Twenty Fight

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SENIOR CLASS HISTORY The memorable day was in September. 1910. One hundred and eighteen of us entered this high school as Freshmen. We were as green as the flag of old Erin. Most of us came here to gather knowledge from this institution of learning, some to pass the time away, while others came to teach Prof. Kell how to take care of the high school. A few determined to take physics and solid geometry but were kindly persuaded not to by Mr. Schwede, who gently told them such studies were not for little Freshmen. We received many lectures from Prof. Kell, who carefully explained to us that the hall was not a race track and that the clock was not a target for paper wads but an instrument by which the t me of the day could sometimes be told. These were dreary days for us and we waited impatiently for the time to pass. The football season finally opened and some of the less timid Freshmen attempted to make the team. We were veiy agreeably surprised when we learned that Louis Barret had made the team. We shall always remember him as a warrior, not as a football warrior, but one who uses his fists, for he was ever engaged in a physical combat with a Junior. At last the first semester came to a close and we had to wr te our first big examination. We were so frightened that we changed fiom our natural greenish color to a pale white. Most of us pa ;sed the examinations successfully, though some who had squandered too much time away started the Freshmen studies anew. The second semester passed even more slowly than the first and a3 the time dragged slowly along some of the Fres! men could en- duie the strain no longer and they left us more fortunate ones to ursue our studies. We then dete? mined to finish the school year, most of us because we were forced to. Slowly the end drew nea and as we once more took our pen in hand to write the final exam at onB, we wished that all of the evils that can befall any human being would fall on the person that had invented high school. But ns most of the unbearable times usually come to an end. so our first year at high school passed, and as a traveler in the desert feels when he sights some water, so we felt when we saw our vacation days looming before us. And .the only thing we could think of a3 a reward for our long year of hardships was that we were no longer Freshmen. The next year we entered the high school as Sophomores. Fifty of our number had left us but we were still considered a large class. We tried to make the best of things and we settled down for an- other nine months of confinement. This year we were busier than the year before. Besides our studies we had to teach the Freshie; manners and to respect their elders, especially the Sophomores. We thought that we were now firmly established in the high school, but we trembled when we heard the words geometry and botany. The first game of the football season opened with two Sophomores on the team. To most of us this year passed on as slowly as the previous one. The manual training boys thought themselves expert specialists who could be consulted on large engineering projects such as the Panama ('anal. Pate Twenty Seven

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TO OUR TEACHERS 7fcrc'x lorc to you. teachers of Lincoln. Hen 's thanks for those messayes clear, Straight from your oirn lives anil teaehinys. Instilled in us year after year. Hen's respect for numberless trifles— Those trifles so vital and blest. I’nknown altoyether by others, Ity ourselves, perhaps, never ermfessed. dust a memory here of some lesson, There a irord or a smile. .4 ylimpse of a soul just beyond' us. An insight of aims more worth while. Your lives may seem wasted and empty Sometimes, as you think of the mass, Who tarry fust for a little, And then from your vision pass. Hut tis not in vain that you've labored With infinite patience and care. For the best in the lives of your pupils Will reflect your influence there.'9 Page Twenty Nine