Momence High School - Monesse Yearbook (Momence, IL)

Page 26 text:

the Senior Class Poem As in some future years unseen I look for the members of the class of ’13, The task takes me to the end of the earth, To find where the class has spread its worth. The first one I find is Ethel Bradley, Who has surprised her friends, tho not badly, For she has settled down to the quiet life Of a bright and prosperous young farmer’s wife. At this time the world has just begun To notice Clark Howk the printer’s son. For he was sent to China as Ambassador, And has kept China and America from war. Mabel Clapsdale we must not forget, Is in England studying to be a suffragette, And ere long I’m sure will show the world, What rights the women here should hold. Earl Todd I find is a soldier now, Who was mixed up last week in a Panama row, But safe and sound he came out of the fight Like all brave soldiers, who do just right. Amanda Johnson, who always did good Whenever she had a chance and could, Has gone to India with a missionary band To help convert the heathen land. Charles Tuttle I hear has gone to sea And is now Captain of the ship “Brigadee,” Which is running between New York and Japan Carrying a cargo and what passengers it can. As I expected some years ago, Nora went to the land of snow. Her ambitions were so from the depth of her soul That I am glad to hear that she reached her goal. Ruby Tuttle, I remember cultivated her voice, And took stage singing as her choice Now she brings the audience to hearty cheers Or fills their eyes with briny tears. When I see that the poster on my right, Says “ Dodd’s Orchestra plays here tonight,” I know Oscar Hanson and his band Will play some music that will be grand. And there was Dolly, a bright young lass, Who was also a member of this illustrious class, And the world far and wide will hear of her yet For she has entered the portals of the Suffragette. Anthony Parish has become a politician, And is now seeking to gain admission Into the ranks of the United States Senate, And at the next election he surely will get it. As for the author, he dosen’t make rhyme, This piece was written for mere pastime, But he lives in peace for you see his name Has not spread over the world in fame. L. Gordinier, ’13.

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Senior Class Prophecy. Numerous are the events which have happened in the years gone by, but the events which will be remembered for years to come, was the graduation of the class of 1913. This wonderful class has attracted such attention by their work in the world, that old friends are anxious to know of their professions at the present time. After days of labor and by searching the various “rogues’ galleries” in different parts of the world, I have at last succeeded in getting news of my class-mates. The first name on my list is Charles Tuttle. He is no longer addressed as Charles, for he is now a sea captain of great renown, and must be spoken to as befits his station in life. When last heard of captain Tuttle was afloat on a raft in the middle of the Atlantic ocean. In a wireless message received the same day, he stated his determin¬ ation to abandon the raft and to swim to the shore. No further report has been heard, but we are sure he had a delightful swim, for Charles was an excellent swimmer when he lived in Momence. Then there is Ethel Bradley, who was always rather timid, but who has at last succeeded in getting married to a prominent farmer living near Hop¬ kins Park. She and her husband are now engaged in the profitable occupa¬ tion of raising sand-burs. Ruby Tuttle has also gained fame as a singer. When she used to sing for us at our entertainments at school, we were forced to leave, quietly but quick¬ ly. But now, thanks to a good musical education, her singing is so pathetic that it would bring tears to the eyes of a wooden Indian. Amanda Johnson is in India acting as a missionary. She reports her occu¬ pation successful, but a later letter from her states she is now teaching Vergil and Physics to the poor igno¬ rant heathen of that country. No won¬ der there are so many deaths in the cities of that country! Anthony Parish became a famous politician and by using his influence he has succeeded in acquiring a position of trust and honor, as president of the pickle factory at Wichert. Leonard Gordinier our famous class poet, has continued in his line of work and promises to become a second Shakespeare. His works may be read in any of the popular almanacs. In the same rank with Peary and Cook comes the name of Nora Lynds, who is now a daring Arctic explorer. This seems to be a peculiar selection for a woman, but all her class-mates knew she always did like “Snow.” Dolly Nelson and Mabel Clapsadle have chartered Oscar Hansen and his ragtime band and gone to England to preach woman suffrage to the people of that thriving country. The ladies take turns in speaking, and Oscar fur¬ nishes the music. Dolly has not been home for some time, but Mabel returns every year to celebrate the Fourth of July at the Log Cabin Camp. The last name on my list is that of Clark Howk. Clark was first sent to Mars as an ambassador, but later re¬ signed. He is now engaged in raising chickens. He averages about twenty to twenty-five chickens in a single night. Of course the night must be quite dark to bring satisfactory results Clark has just sent to Washington to get a patent on his new method. Now, before I close, I will add a few words about myself. I am now living a life of leisure, having just received a small fortune of one dollar and forty- nine cents from a rich uncle, who died quite recently in Ireland. I have not made any great name for myself, but I am still looked up to by my friends. Thus ends the prophecy of the class of 1913. , E arl Todd. Wife (bitterly)—When you married me you didn’t marry a cook. Husband—Well, you needn’t rub it in.

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Zo the Seniors, When you see the grand old Seniors Gaily passing down the line, Don’t you feel the least bit envious Of their shining light divine ? Don’t you wish that you were with them? Gaily treading on the heads Of the low-down underclassmen, Striving for their sixteen “ creds.” See their chests puffed way out yonder, And their smile of triumph wide, As they gaily mount the platform Never bowing to the tide, Hear their chuckles and their laughter, Heavens don’t it make you mad ? How you’d like to jump among them, Bang their heads and make them sad. But before you pass to rashness, And commit a deadly sin, Stop, consider, think upon it, Don’t give ’way to every whim, They are going forth to battle, Thinking that they know it all; Recollect that true old saying, “Pride is greatest ’fore a fall.” While their heads are swelled to bursting, Just apply that golden rule ; If they have acquired all knowledge, Why do seniors go to school ? Why to study and to argue Causing sorrow, aches and pain, When they might be famous, glorious, Honored far and wide their name. But I’m sure I know the reason, For altho they surely beam In the light of their greater prestige, Things are not what they seem When they’re really up against it, They will lose their golden hue And not look like rosy sunset, But like early morning dew. But enough of such reflections, Cast away your vain regret. Hurry up, you freshie, And you’ll get there yet. Every one must be a senior If from high school he would pass. So don’t look with criticism On the lofty Senior Class. —J. Raymond Crowley,