Lyndon State College - Northern Lights Yearbook (Lyndonville, VT)

Page 23 text:

THE VERLYN BETTY HUBBARD “Bet” Red headed and slender of build is she Clever and artistic to the nth degree She gives instructions with fiddle and bow As you pass her room you hear do-ti-do. DOROTHY STROWBRIDGE “Dot” Dot’s eyes look dreamy through her glasses She writes romantic poems in classes Ye Okie Tavern gets a wistful glance And we see the starting of a romance. Marion Ford Flora Osgood Viola Currier

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20 THE VERLYN EVELYN SHELTRA “Sheltra” This small and quiet little lass Never is in time for class Hut if to St. Jay you chance to go Evelyn would like a ride we know. MAY STEVENS “Steve” This little girl is fond of skates She never is lacking for friends or dates President of Sanborn House is she And a very fine teacher we hope she’ll be. BERNICE WEBSTER “Webby” We used to watch her hop and prance But now she's finally learned to dance A salesman is her greatest dream We wonder why she’s planned this scheme. ERMA WHITCOMB “Whit” Erma likes to see the coming of “Dawn” hich makes her feel that her troubles are gone They can’t do this to us , says she It’s the usual answer to you and me.

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22 THE VERLYN CLASS PROPHECY The Caledonian and the Journal were still flashing with the news of the fashionable wedding of Martha Paterson and “Trickstep” Somers when they started out on their Honeymoon Hitch Hike around the world. They decided this would be a novel idea and save them money to help in establishing a new home. Everything went swell when they started out but after five or six miles of dusty roads Martha’s spirit began to droop and “Trickstep” had the pleasure of carrying both knapsacks. “Cheer up. Martha, my dear, a model T seems to be com- ing,” and he signalled frantically at the driver. The driver turned out to be none other than Marguerite Hovey who stopped her can and asked in a friendly manner if they were not tired. “Trickstep” and Martha, in a sigh of relief, “Yes, indeed, we’re tired of walking.” “Well, well” said Marguerite, “Try running awhile,” and she drove off toward Gilman leaving them in another cloud of dust. “Perhaps this is your idea of a honeymoon but it’s my idea of nothing at all” said Martha, “and, unless something breaks for us soon. l‘m going back to take my third year at I.. N. S.” The words were scarcely out of her mouth when a hay- wagon, well worn with years of usage, drove up. A few miles back Martha would have snobbed the offer but our fair wedding couple tumbled in grateful, although Martha did grumble a bit fearing her new flannel suit would be ruined. “There is something mighty familiar with these people, I’d almost swear that I’ve seen them before,” remarked Martha. “No doubt your imagination is running away,” remarked “Trickstep” in a frigid manner. All at once Martha climbed upon the wagon seat and grasped the hands of Dorothy Strobridge and Dean Bullock. “Hello, you old tramps, I haven’t seen you since the years we spent together at L. N. S. playing ping pong to pass away the long evenings”. “How is married life going with you. Dean?”