Monroe High School - Hayu Saghalie Yearbook (Monroe, WA)

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For you must have guessed that they were soldiers of the Irish Free State. I turned again to the crystal, but lo! the vision had vanished and in its place I saw a small shop cluttered with all kinds of machinery, and in one corner of the room, sleeves rolled high, hatless and coatless, I saw a familiar figure bending over some object on the table. Then I be- came aware of a great commotion outside and gazing out of the window I saw an immense crowd clamoring at the window and shouting at the tops of their voices. The fig- ure, however, never raised its head, but swiftly went to work fitting a screw here and there in the object before him. Again I turned to Madam Latour, and again she smiled and replied: “That is Fred Peck. He has just in- vented a cap which will, when worn, enable the densest person to understand and remember anything he has read. The crowd is already gathering to purchase his invention.” While meditating on this I was aroused by a cry, “Look! The scene changes.” 1 turned and beheld a large gym, covering an acre. Hundreds of girls in uniform were lined up along the wall, while marching defiantly up and down the middle of the floor, and swinging her dumbells, was none other than Katherine Mitchell. Dear Kate, I thought, you always did want to teach gymnastics, and I am so glad. rl hen I was brought back to the scene again by the command, “Forward, March!” The column of girls moved slowly forward, step by step, arm swinging by arm. Then they formed in twos and threes, still in the same uniform motion. “The Grand March!” How beautiful, thought I. The picture slowly faded and the air was filled with the most beautiful music I ever heard. First one loud blast from the clarinet, followed by the sweeter notes of the saxaphone, and ending with the throbbing wail of the violin. Then into sight came a uniformed band, headed by a figure which seemed familiar to me. Could it be? I looked again. Yes, it was. I raised my questioning eyes to Madame Latour. “That,” said she, “is William R. Faulds and his orchestra. He plays tonight at the Grand Orpheum. I heard he gets six hundred seventy-five for the job.” “Hurrah!” said I. This time as I turned to the crystal I was rewarded by a strange sight. First to my excited gaze came a lit- tle white schoolhouse completely surrounded by palm trees, and as I exclaimed aloud over the beauty of the sight the scene shifted and I gazed upon the interior of the building. It was nothing but one large room and a lot of little picaninnies were seated cross-legged on the

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CLASS PROPHECY THE day was hot and sultry. The little streets of Paris gleamed white hot in the sun, and as 1 wandered list- lessly up and down the streets, being jostled here and theie by the hurrying crowd, I found my thoughts turning suddenly back to a little brick building, a stage decorated with pink roses, girls in white skirts and blouses and boys in their best suns. Then as in a dream I found myself repeating, “The Class of Twenty-two! Where are they now? Six years had passed since then, and here was I, way out in nowhere; and the rest—how could I find out where they were? Then directly in front of me, staring me in the face, I saw the sign, “Madame Latour, Crystal Gazer. Let me tell your friends and your future.” No sooner had I read the sign than I found myself in the room. In the very center of the room, almost three feet high and one and a half feet in diameter, stood a large crystal ball. Sparks of fire seemed to issue from it, filling the room with red, yellow, blue and green lights which dazzled the eye. I stood as one paralyzed, gazing directly at the ball, when a figure began to rise out of the light and came slowly toward me. She was dressed from head to foot in a soft clinging material, the color of silver, which shone and glistened in the dancing light. She wore a head- band of rubies, emeralds and sapphires, and as I gazed upon her I thought she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. She came within three feet of me, then turning, beck- oned me to follow and wen slowly back to the crystal. Then passing her hand lightly over my forehead she bade me look. I gazed into the crystal. For a minute my eyes wrere filled with a dancing light and a dull shooting pain. Then my vision cleared and I sawr a hospital room, with twenty-nine white cots neatly arranged in a row'. They were occupied by soldiers. Some wore bandages on their heads, some on their arms and some across their chests. As I gazed upon this piteous scene I heard a faint hurrah and looking to the other end of the room I saw the door open and a nurse, clad all in white, carrying an armful of pink roses, entered. Ah! Thought I; pink roses! Quietly she went from bed to bed, smoothing the feverish brow or holding some poor fellowr’s hand, and as she moved I sawr their faces light up and heard a murmur, “Nurse Catherine,” go around the room. I raised questioning eyes to Madame Latour. “Yes,” she said, “that is Genevieve McGinn. They call her Nurse Catherine because it reminds them of their native land.”

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floor chanting aloud their lessons. A little way apart, on a slightly elevated floor, sat the teacher. I started as I thought i recognized her. then quickly turned and looked at Madame Latour. “Yes,” she said, “you guessed right— that is Minerva Healy, sent here to San Quan, Porto Rico, by the government of the United States to teach these little fellows the American language.” Poor Minerva! thought I, but you always did like children. When 1 again looked into the crystal, the scene had shifted back to Annapolis. The Navy and West Point were at their annual game of Rugby. The game waxed exciting and I was astonished to see that it was always the same young lieutenant who made the goal for West Point. Upon inquiring, I found it was Webster Augustine, unexcelled as a football player and that his name ranked among the highest in the field of athletics. The scene quickly changed and I found myself looking into a ballroom, with highly polished floor and large ferns in all the corners. Then I saw before me a beautiful young girl, blue-eyed, rosy cheeked and ruby lipped, clad in a wonderful gown of clinging, goldish colored material. As I looked about the room I found that other eyes besides mine were fastened upon her and in a moment she was completely surrounded by laughing, admiring young cham- pions. I raised my eyes to Madame Latour. “She,” said Madame, “is Mary C. Gauthier, society belle of New York City.” When I again gazed into the crystal the scene had changed and I found myself watching a figure on a plat- form as he addressed an assembly of people. He was hand- somely dressed, while his words carried such power that the people were changed from blood-thirsty demons to a peace-loving people, and again to a riotous crowd crying for revenge, all in a single moment just as he wished. Again 1 looked up at Madame Latour and she, sensing my question, replied, “That is Ernest A. Cowell, President of the United States, giving his inauguration speech.” This time when I turned again to the crystal I saw the smooth floor of a dance hall. Both sides of the hall were lined with pupils waiting for their turn while in the center, gorgeously dressed, was an old familiar figure care- fully showing a pupil the latest steps. “One, two, three, hop — One, two, three, hop,” etc. I turned to Madame Latour. “That,” said she, “is Elva Adams, the greatest dancing teacher in the United States. If you want to learn the latest step just go to her.” When I turned again another picture had already started. It showed a long winding stair and a figure