Main Avenue High School - El Sombrero Yearbook (San Antonio, TX)

Page 12 text:

 Artistic, honored structure, dark and old. Half-hid among the many trees that try With their dense leaves to hide from every eye The beauty of your front, so grim and bold. In pictures only do we know you now. For you have vanished into dust by now, And in your ashes now a larger kind Of nobler structure tries to take your place And imitate your soft, old-fashioned grace! For thirty years, or more, you reigned supreme And cast on all the town the white, bright beam Of your intelligence! Your kind Of beauty now, indeed, is hard to find! 8 J. S. M.

Page 11 text:

Hjts Annual ts Sebtcateb To those who were Boys of old High School, Who have gone from our sight—for a time; Who passed from this grade of Life’s lessons To the light of the Region Sublime— The Boys who, when called to the colors, Gave for home and country, their best, Who left us a pattern of courage, The Boys who so bravely went West!

Page 13 text:

Belrold! This mass of cold, grey stone! Majestic, bold, and seemingly alone, It stands apart! Here beats the Heart, Here lives the ruling brain of Main! Here’s the assembly hall of dazzling white, Where the orchestras blare forth to our delight. Here great men speak on many a wondrous thing. Here do we cheer them on, or loudly sing! The office, is this tiny room, ’Tis quiet as some ancient tomb— For here the pink slips come and go In an unending, awful flow! Here students paint the trees and sky— Is dedicated to Art. This room, upon the roof perched high. Each paints what most delights his heart! Beneath—deep roots the music of this place, Here harmonies in perfect grace— On violins, or other strings—keep pace With the choruses of boys—in tuneful race! Full many a room holds glories hard to tell, Tho we don’t love these studies very well. Here grim typewriters wildly tap away. Or shorthand “sharks” take notes all day. Here Latin flows, here orators orate, Or Physiology fills many a pate! There Physics, Botany and Chemistry. The “Huisache’’ office—and now last and best— Our Matron’s rooms of peace and sleep and rest! Nay, hold! What odor fills the halls? The Cafeteria to dinner calls! So runs the order of the day. And none are sad and all are gay! 9