Milford High School - Droflim Yearbook (Milford, OH)

Page 29 text:

QQQQQQQQQQ THE DROFLIM QQEQQQQQQQQ SOPHOMORE I-IISTURY XVell, sir, it was 11igh two years ago, I reckon, when I started in studyin' here at Milford High. And gee, it sure was a grind. Everybody seemed to have a grudge agin' us, and the juniors, they didn't seem to like us at all. XYhich all goes to show how wrong a person can be. NVell, we got through somehow, and everything was scootin' along pretty well, when all of a sudden something popped. Those teachers-well, they gave us what they called examinations. Never could see why they say gave them, for they forced them upon us like nobody's business. Anyhow, most of us lived through them, only to be given some more in May. After that they let us go for awhile. Last September we were lookin' in the paper, and saw a place where it tells when school's going to begin. Well, we all came back, and sure enough, school started. NVQ were Sophomores, of course. People treated us pretty nice, and we got pretty fair grades on our report cards-but then we had those examinations again. Well, there's not much more to say, except that wefve had a real good time here so far, and hope to in the future. QQQQMJMQQLVJQ 1 9 3 2

Page 28 text:

QQQQQQQQQE THE DROFI-IM QQQQQGQQQQE THE OLD SCHOOL HOUSE The school house is gone from the lawn, And the place looks dreary and sad, The play-ground is broken by the plow, Where oft we have sported in the shade. And the school niastcr's gone far away, He's gone to his land of restg O, where are the girls and boys, NYho joined in the laugh and the jest? Don't your heart beat wildly and strange, When you think of the frolic and the fun? When you didn't care a fig what anybody said, Always expecting one. Say! Don't you remember our swing. The swing in the beechen shadeg And don't you remember our teeter on the log, VVhere often at see-saw we played? The old log has mouldered to the dust. And the swing fell down years agog And the long dreary winter of time, Is whitening our locks with its snow. Our playmates are scattered, some are gone, And we'll see their bright faces no more: And the merry laugh is hushed forever. That we heard by the school room door. -Selected by Irma Griswold 1 9 3 2 GQQQQQQQGQQE ll 6 we ' 7'

Page 30 text:

QQQGEQQQQQQ THE DROFI-IM QQQQQQQGXCJQ A PSALM OF LIFE Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goalg Dust thou art. to dust returnest, XYas not spoken to the soul. Not enjoyment. and not sorrow. ls our destined end or wayg I But to act, that each to-morrow Finds us farther than to-day. Art is long, and Time is Heeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muiifled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave. In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife! Trust no future, howe'er pleasant! Let the dead Past bury its dead! Act-act in the living Present! Heart within, and God o'erhead! Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time. ......-an Let us, then. be up and doing. With a heart for any fateg Still achieving, still pursuing. Learn to labor and to wait. -Henry VVadsworth Longfellow Selected by Audrey Aiken QQQQQQGQQQQQ 1 9 S 2 QQVLQQQQQQQQQL age wen 11-8156