Lowell High School - Lowellian Yearbook (Lowell, IN)

Page 9 text:

To Mr. lyyroy Hamilton Step iefis 7 1 ' ’riend, helper, watcher o’er our destiny, Counselor of faith and cheer, defender of the Right; One who lowered not our confidence to vagary, One from whom we’ve garnered only joys and hopes of Light. Surely, in last days together, there is something we can do. And so now, our thoughts forever, and our gratitude so true We dedicate, in final eflfort, this last Re¬ membrance, Friend, to you. —Charles Buchanan.

Page 11 text:

The Fall of Ouintus Fabius Long T WAS the last day of the semester. The entire body of students of the Washington High School was assembled in the spacious auditorium for the scholastic event of the term. In this contest any student in the school might submit a poem, essay, short story, or a play. The winner was awarded a gold medal. The program was about half-way through and the juvenile section of the audience was frankly bored. At the close of each paper they had clapped rather per¬ functorily. The next number on the program was announced by the student- body president. “ ‘Necessity for the More General Study of Greek’ Quintus Long” The speaker, a husky, dark-haired boy of about fourteen years, a fine specimen of boyhood, was unusually pale and his bright, gray eyes were con¬ cealed by a huge pair of tortoise-shell glasses. He spoke well, in clear, concise sentences. When he had completed his essay, the older portion of his audi¬ ence applauded vigorously, the younger element mechanically. Two more readings terminated the program. The five judges rose im¬ portantly and conferred together in the principal’s office and then solemnly communicated their decision to the president. Quintus Long had won the medal. Amidst genera l applause he received the prize. “I knew he’d win,” said dark-haired Maybelle Summers, “he always does. He never fails in anything.” “That’s quite a record,” responded her companion, “and he’s only a fresh¬ man, too. I’d like to see him miss once, anyway.” “Oh, he will,” concluded Maybelle sagely, “after all, he’s only mortal.” Quintus Fabius Long, for such was this remarkable boy’s name, was his parents’ only child. When he was born, the Longs brazenly dared the Fates and decided that he should not be as other small boys of their acquaintance— noisy, mischievous, nerve-racking tomboys. No, indeed! He would be the true