Marion University - Marionette Yearbook (Marion, IN)

Page 33 text:

j3 opj)omotT0 CLASS OFFICERS President-D. Paul Huffman Secretary -Pearl Reist Class Motto—4 us 2 B 2 is 4 us 2 B natural. Class Colors—Blue and White Class Flower—Red Rambler Rose CLASS ROLL 0 9 D. Paul Huffman Rufus D. Riesdornh PI $ 8 0. Pearl Reist Willis C. Smith $ Ruth Wright Hazel E. Lemon 8 ☆ LiJ S. V. Mattson Edith Hawkins 0 L§l if S Raymond H. Wetter M. Pauline Beals Achsah J. Endsley Gladys Opal Coate !l E r3 Emmet F. Litzenburg Leora Van Matre Marshall R. Beard 1 3 3 E 1 =3 111 p : : OOOg CO =»n . . - 0 - 0 . SE= 1 ooogVoi .; F 00-13000 =3G= sgjjp

Page 32 text:

£f)C Marionette ' 23 t i» ■ OOO OO 00- 3 lOF ooo 3 Heberte of ttje Class of ’24 Methinks as I sit a-dreaming Tonight before the fire. Watching the flames go chimneyward And the smoke mount higher and higher There’s Austin Chamberlain, Dear me! How will he e’re attain To highest notes upon that flute, And win himself a name? I see the Juniors of old M. C. As world-ward they wend their way; Now busy with cares of life And the work of the great TODAY. They little thought in college days Of the trials they’d meet in life But the strength they gained in the prob¬ lems then, Helps conquer in the strife. There’s Harriet Manson a speaker now And winning great applause. She got her practice on “Lit programes,” A great salary draws. I read a magazine last week, Whose editor was Harold Stoke, It dealt with weighty articles, As, “Annuals are no joke.” I wonder about Wilmer Reist, He always was so willing To do the things you’d ask him to He’s made some life so thrilling. Ruth Ubele used to always be So fond of classic lore, She must by now be teaching school— A Latin class or more. When Palmer Mart got his degree I scarcely would have guessed That he would be a surgeon now. And thus the world be blessed. Then Mable Smith, that dear, good girl; Within a laboratory Is watching butterflies hatch out And writing their life story. And there’s her brother, Thomas Smith, A minister, so I’ve heard. His flock will never feel the lack Of messages from God’s word. I seem to see thru yonder trees, ’Way there near Singapore, A gray-haired man among the tribes— It’s Edwin Ballenger! I heard from Fannie Howell today, She says she’s oft been thinking That China is the place for her, Especially in Pekin. There’s Herman Stuneck, too. Must be Dishwashing for his wife: A handy man around the house Would add to the joys of life. So Harold Sloan’s a college “prof.” Why did he never get To be a dean of college men? Yes, he’s a bachelor yet. Oh, dear old class of ’24 I wish you here tonight To tell me of your lives, your work, Your prospects—would you might. But I must not be dreaming here When there’s so much to do. Those students want their Greek grades now And Botany calls me too. M. E. W. ’24

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Cbc Marionette ' 23 optjomores The class of 1925 met once more on the campus of Marion College m September, 1922. In renewing acquaintanceships, we found that only a few of the old familiar countenances were distinguishable. But we greeted and welcomed a goodly number of new students into our much depleted circle. They are no longer strangers, but have been duly assimilated and are now one with us. We are all possessed of capabili¬ ties for joy, sorrow, strife and love, which are but human, even in Sophomores. We lusty, live Sophomores hail from the remotest and farflung nooks and crevices of America. We articulate in numerous tongues; yet at heart we are one. The Sophomore class has, as yet, no history; nor can we prophecy what the future holds. We can, with little certainty only, bespeak the present. Our sentiments are best expressed by Alice Cary, who said: “Life should be full of earnest work, Our hearts unlashed by fortune’s frown; Let perseverance conquer fate, And merit seize the victor’s crown.” Our class is by no means a silent monastical race of men and women. Already, through the slightly polished edges, are seen glimpses of great promise for future brilliancy. Race qualities of leadership and executive ability have manifested themselves. We claim, with pardon¬ able pride, the supplying of the president of the Y. M. W. B. and also of the Students’ Conference. Two of our members were worthy partici¬ pants in the Peace Oratorical contest—two were represented in a decla¬ mation contest given by the Expression Department—one member, our honorable president, represented us on an Intersociety Debating contest. Aside from these special activities, we are strongly represented on the Annual staff, the Journal staff, and in both the Eureka and Amphictyon Literary Societies. Thus we feel that we are making noteworthy prog¬ ress on the way to success and fame. Dear readers, do not mistake us and conclude that our lot is cast only in the realm of profound study and seriously philosophical moods; but we are a happy, cheery and joyous group. We believe in working while we work and playing while we play. We also believe that work can be made a real pleasure. Our work, which, this year, is but a fore¬ shadowing still, of that which is to come, has been a source of pleasure and satisfaction. Our play has consisted in “wienie” roasts, candy bees and numerous other purely social functions which varied the tenor of our pleasures. For our able and sympathetic professors, we have only praise. They have nobly guided our unwary barks over many rough Sophomore seas. If v e carefully follow their timely instructions, we are sure to anchor safely on the blissful shores of Seniordom some day. We close our happy Sophomore year with no longing glances backward, but a joyous forward vision. Further anticipations must here be left unexpressed. Strive not to say the whole! the poet in his art, Must intimate the whole, and sav the smallest part. The young moon’s silver arc, her perfect circle tells, The limitless, within Art’s bounded outline dwells. Of every noble work, the silent part is best; Of all expression, that which cannot be expressed. Each act contains the life, each work the art, the world. And all the planet-laws are in each dew-drop pearled R. M. W. O. P. R. ’25. —Story.