Madison Central High School - Tychoberahn Yearbook (Madison, WI)

Page 16 text:

Freshman Girl. Dear Child, for child you are, I say In spite of all denial. You’ve started on your high school way, Your mettle is on trial, And as we watch you day by day, We rather like your style. Now as your first year’s almost through The whole school’s verdict is. “You’ll do.” 14

Page 15 text:

In the Land of the Great Spirit, While the passing braves and warriors, Gazing at the worn-out Wigwam, Spoke them one unto another, Saying, “What a shame and pity That the Wigwam of Tychoberah Should stand there so old and dingy. ” Then from out their dirty deerskins The ill-smelling tire-weed drew they. Sat them down on sunny door-mats And amid the curling smoke-wreathes Fought again their merry battles, Told themselves, “Me heap big warrior.” Left the Wigwam of Tychoberah Standing there among the lodges Like a squaw, all old and wrinkled. Thirty winters it has stood there, Stood the Wigwam of Tychoberah In the Land of the Great Spirit. Still the children of Tychoberah Flock to hear the words of wisdom Of the master Hutcheesahnee As he sits within the wigwam Breathing forth his words of wisdom. But from banks of fair Mendota, From the ripples of Monona, From the reedy shoals of Wingra Comes a cry of supplication, Comes a prayer of hope and longing To the throne of the Great Spirit Gitche Manito, the mighty: “O, great father of thy people ’Ere again comes, Kabibonokka May there stand, in strength and beauty In the Land of the Great Spirit A new Wigwam of Tychoberah Which shall stand among the lodges Like a warrior in his beauty Like a king among his people.

Page 17 text:

Our Class History and Merits. Delivered by the Freshmen to the Sophs., Juniors, Seniors, Teachers. Profs.etc. at M. H. S Ye call us Best, and ye do well to call them Best, who, for one long year have met, in this old High School, every shape of noun or verb the broad pages of our Latins could furnish and never yet have lowered our marks. If there be one among you who can say that ever, in our translations or recitations, our “stabbing”did make us “flunk,” let him stand forth and say it. If fifty in all yonr company dare to against us stand, let them come on. And yet we were not always thus, cruel butchers, savage killers of those old Latin verbs. Our fathers came from New England and settled among the laid out blocks and grass clad yards of this city. Our ward school life ran noisily as the battles of which we studied and, when, one morn, we gathered beneath the shade of this old building, there was a Prof, the head of the high school, to keep us in good order. We led our steps through the same doorway and enjoyed together our rustic rooms. One evening after school was over and wre were all seated beneath the ceiling which shaded the main room, the professor was telling us of Regan and Sanders and how, in ancient times, a dozen men on the gridiron had been backed up by a whole army. We did not then know what defeat was but our cheeks burned, we knew not why, and we clasped the sides of those old desks and hollered and cheered until the Prof, cooling our enthusiasm, bade us go home and wait one day for a grand game and glorious fight. That very next day the South Side High School landed on the field and at Camp Randall we saw the men we depended upon trampled by the hoofs of South Side and the bleeding body of Sanders flung amidst the yellow rafters of the grand stand. This year we killed some Sophs, at the time of hazing, and, when we brake their skulls, behold! they were all hollow. We told “John” that their heads were full of vacuum and we begged that we might bear away the rest and burn them on a funeral pile amidst the waves of Lake Mendota: Ay! Upon our knees,down in the dusty cellar we begged that poor boon while all the assembled teachers backed us up and promised high marks if we would get rid of the Sophs; but “John” drew back when we spoke of their pollution and sternly said, “Let the old things rot, there are no noble men but Freshmen,” and so, first graders, you and so must I bear their foolishness. O, comrades, teachers, school books,if we must buck, let us buck for ourselves, if we must learn,let us learn our own lessons, if we must flunk, let it be with a straight face in-1 this building from noble, honorable stabbing' 15