Lowell High School - Lowellian Yearbook (Lowell, IN)

Page 26 text:

and is now trying to convert the Eskimo children from their habit of eating raw meat. It is rumored that it is just one little girl in particular, that he is trying to convert.” Edna then turned to me and asked if there were any questions 1 would like to ask the spirit. “Yes,” I said, “I would like to know the fate of my other classmates.” So, after jerking her head and gasping for breath, the old woman continued, “Azalia has a very high position, as she is the most expert stenographer employed by a famous shoe¬ maker in Chicago.” “Helen Morey supports herself, and her husband, by cro¬ cheting bedroom slippers, at other times she clerks in a barber shop, Mary Holton, who has become quite wealthy from her shoestring shop, lives on the same street as Helen. Mary has never married, as she says all men are either foolish or simple.” By this time I was quite excited and could hardly wait for Edna to proceed. “Theron Wilder has gained distinction by his ability as an expert door knob polisher.” “Lester Davis, through hard work has gained for himself and wife, Esther Ault, a position in a Chinese laundry, where their only duty is entertaining visitors.” Here the medium stopped and tapped on a little bell. I asked her if that was all, but she just said, “Hush!” Then the door opened and a sad faced woman came in with ' a glass of water. I immediately recognized her as Marguerite Minninger. While Edna was drinking the water, Marguerite siezed the opportunity to whisper to me, “1 hired out as their maid a few days ago as I believe there is a treasure hidden here. Vivien Hayden, the country school teacher, near here, is helping me look for it.” Then she hurried out. After a series of tappings on the floor, Mrs. Burroughs commenced again, “Alta Sutton has bought a half interest in Kelley’s pop corn wagon; also she is making money fast by selling stock in the new found oil wells on her estate. Julia Stenerson and Clara Roorda, still in Lowell, and although they are happily married, both are running for office as candidates on the “House Wife’s Labor Party.” As Fred Hepp, the weather prophet, who has his office on a dry goods box in Grant’s store near the Gum counter, sas “They certainly are apt to win.” Elsa Poppe, of the same town, has left for Shelby where she will take up a special course in the art of weaving market bas¬ kets. Elsa is to be married next fall, so wants to prove to her husb and, her skill at housekeeping.” The Spirit is being called away now,” said the Medium, “to give advice to Edna Tanner as to wether she shall trust Queene Weaver to pay for a bottle of her remedy for freckles. Edna Tanner is a traveling quack doctor, while Queene is still the unhappy vamp, having already divorced three husbands. Queene, however, is able to support herself and eight children, without the aid of a husband; for she takes up tickets at the free lecture courses, where Vernon Stillson is describing his

Page 25 text:

Senior Cla ss Prophecy It was just twenty years after the graduation of the Sen¬ ior Class of ’21 that I sat thinking over my High School days; wondering what had become of my classmates. Suddenly a happy thought struck me and I ran to get my Ouija board. Then I seriously asked my old friend, Ouija, to put me in com¬ munication with some of my old school friends. At once the board began to move, rapidly directing me to the address of a certain spiritualist Medium. This rather puz¬ zled me, but as I was in a mood for adventure, I threw my wraps around me and started. After a time, I came to the place, a tumbled down old house on the outskirts of the city of Grasmere. Summoning all my courage together, I went up the rickety steps and knock¬ ed. After what seemed ages to me, sounds, as of shuffling feet came up to the door, and after fumbling around, someone finally opened the door. There I stood, staring into the fea¬ tures of an old white bearded, long haired man, who looked familiar. I eagerly made known my errand, then gave him my card. He looked at it curiously, then said, “Well, well! Is that you? Don’t you remember me, your old friend, Russell Bur¬ roughs?” This astonished me, as he looked very different from when I had seen him last; though his hair still held that beau¬ tiful wave. After recovering from my surprise, I asked him what he was doing there. He sighed regretfully, as lie ans¬ wered, “I’m laid up with the ’riieumatiz,’ so my wife earns the living. She is one of those Spiritualist Mediums, maybe you re¬ member her, Edna Powell. No, don’t ask any questions, but come on in. She saw you coming, so is now getting ready for one of those meetings. So saying, he opened a door and ushered me in. There, seated on the floor, was my chum of former days, now almost unrecognizable, looking like a gypsy hag or witch. “Oh!” she shrieked, “Come on in, Ethel, and sit down. Quit talking to my husband, I’m not dead yet. Russell! Will you hustle and hurry from this room? Or shall I come over, ana beat you with this broom.” At these words, poor Russel fled. I shall not attempt to describe Edna’s motions, mumblings, and horrible cries as she summoned a spirit to speak to me. Finally, with her glassy eyes fixed on the wall, she com¬ menced in a low monotonous voice, “The spirit of Leslie Schultz is here to communicate with you.” He says to tell you that he was lately sent with the U. S. troops to punish the profi¬ teering Eskimoes in Alaska. But was killed by an unapprec¬ iative native, to whom he was reciting poetry.” I was about to interrupt when she continued, “Hughe Hayden went with him, as a minister. He remained there

Page 27 text:

attempts to catch whales in Cedar Lake, and also telling of wild chickens and mud turtles, which live near his home.” After leaving here, I was amazed to see a large sign board signifying that Myron Born, the Worlds Champion Basketball player was now a player on Yale’s team. I resolved to go and see Mike use his fists, again. Then slowly walking homeward, thinking of my friends’ different fortunes, I was suddenly startled by a cry of “Help the Blind, Madam !” As I turned to view the blind man, he cried, “Why, Ethel, I didn’t know you!” “Well,” I said, “Cecil Murr, it won’t do for you to tell me you are blind.” ,• -f “Aw!” said Pete, “I just was trying to get enough dough to take me to some good summer resort.” As I was going on then, after meeting Pete, a car drove up to me and stopped. “Get in and we’ll take you home,” some one cried. I knew who that was. It was no one but Marion Nelson, who as assistant farmerette, was working for the Lowell Society Leader, our former teacher and Class advisor, Marion, was having one of her five afternoons off a week, and was out taking a ride with the chauffeur, George Nomanson, a man well learned in Mechanical things. So I hurried to the car and was speedily driven away. Ethel A. Vinnedge Lament” We hate to leave you dear old L. 11. S., For in your rooms, now, we all must confess We spent in study our happiest years. And now we must leave you with many tears For we have many things before us yet, Unknown things we have neither seen nor met. But we hope and hope as the years go by That our respect for you shall never die And oft may you think of the happy fun Of our cheerful class of old ’21. —Helen Morey