Muncie Central High School - Magician Yearbook (Muncie, IN)

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History of the Class of 19112 N 1908, only four short years ago, 162 pupils en- tered M. H. S. Since then sgcfgfiog gr be 02. fp,m':xggl, the class has dwindied H5 down to 77. Lillian Hathaway will graduate Los Angeles, Cal., Mar- guerite Free, in Piqua, O., and Esther Tedrow in Middletown, O. We have been glad to welcome into our midst several from other schools. this year in During the first two years we did not organize, and although our class spirit was sadly lacking, we were dis- tinguished from the first by the gen- eral high standard of our work. In the spring of 1910, the whole school was saddened by the death of three of its pupils, Hattie Miles, James Best and Ruth Terhune, all of whom were our classmates. In the middle of our Junior year, we organized and our enthusiasm rapidly rose to a high pitch. We elected Lemuel Fowler, president, Lillian Hathaway, vice president, Russel Beck, treasurer, Marie Stauf, secretary, and Wendell Lewellen, sergeant-at-arms. We soon decided upon steel gray and scarlet as our class colors, and chose the Amer- ican Beauty rose for our official iiower. Our heads fairly swam with plans for good times together. Our Senior friends looked down upon us with a knowing smile as much as to say, You will get over it. We gave our first party at the college and a happier crowd of young people would be difficult to find. Just before the close of school we gave our only formal entertainment, the Ju- nior dance. 'We met again in the fall of 1911, prepared for the home stretch, and many of us realized the necessity of diligent work. We organized imme- diately, electing Herbert Eiler, presi- dent, Helen Vance, Vice president, Ruth Williams, secretary, Paul Leffler, treasurer, Warren Freeman, prophet, Ruth Doyle, poet and Wendell Lewel- len, sergeant-at-arms. We selected Nihil sine labore as our class motto. In January the girls entertained the boys at a leap-year party at the home of Elizabeth Throolp. Later in the win- ter, the boys returned the compliment by entertaining the girls at the home of Mary Abbot. Under the auspices of the Senior class, the Wabash Glee Club gave a concert in the Commercial Club hall, April 5, which was greeted with a crowded house. And now as we near the end of our last year in high school and many of us realize that our school days are over, our good times are tinged with a of sadness at the thought that the class of 1912 will be nothing than a matter of history. note soon more Hazel Hardsog, Historian.

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MARIE STAUF She has gi stern look, but a gentle heart. HELEN VANCE, Vice President Strong, sweet and sincere. CARROLL SMITH Love-I know not what thou art. NVENDELL LEXVELLAN Sergeant at Arms Every laddie has his lrissie, Nane Z1 ane have TCU MILDRED PRUTZMAN Behind her reticenee and reserve lies a fund of good nature. HAZEL HARDSOG, Historian VVild bird whose warhle liquid sweet. LUTHER RICE But for life the universe were nothing. PAUL BURTON Sir, l nm Zl true labourer. HELEN STEPHENS Ye gods, how I hate boys. RUTH L. MANN l smile, for while l smile, another smiles and soon, there's miles and miles of sniilesf

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Class Poem Come friends and fellow comrades, hear, Our many studies and hardships great, I have a few words to relate No one can ever comprehend, About the class, which all revere, But those who have endured our fate, The class so soon to graduate. Or four years in the High School spend First as bashful Freshmen classed, Then sturdy Sophoniores, Juniors wise, They call us Seniors now at last, The name we dearly love and prize. Some of us would gladly stay, Seniors now review the past, And studies again resume, Recall the rules we have obeyed, But Freshmen enter each day, Could not talk nor walk too fast, And we know they need the room. All on account of The Interest grade.' Give cheers for the class of 1912, And be not seltish with your praise, Into school books no more we'll delve, For numbered are our High School days. Some Seniors shrink at the cold world's scorn just as all Senior classes go, Others walk in the pride of wealth secure, Now we are praised and honored too, That both the high and lowly born, The Tide of Lifel' will o'er us flow, Shall moulder to dust is true and sure. We shall then sink from view. This Senior class of fair renown, Is different from the rest, This grand old class in cap and gown, What is more picturesque? Patient teachers for years of four, We Seniors can no longer stay, Whose patience we have sorely tried, For now they bid us go, Your pardon now we do implore, Some sad near future day, And hope it will not be denied. They'll wish us back we know. Climbing a ladder tall and great, As round after round we go, Here's to Juniors on this ladder of fate, For they are just one round below. Here's to the grand old school we leave, Seniors though this seems very strange Here's to the class so tried and true, When we with age are bent, Here's to the ones who for us grieve, We'1l see this building still unchanged, We know that they are passing few. And say, That's where we went. -Ruth Doyle.