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

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

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 18 text:

Sophomore Girl. Here we have a “Maid of Note” Well skilled in that occupation And we, in our admiration, On her missives “simply dote.” Beauty, wit, and fascination Prom her lovely presence float. Object of our adoration Hail to you, fair “Maid of Note!” 16