Munhall High School - Munhisko Yearbook (Munhall, PA)

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THE MUNHISKO 19 chills lovingly chased each other up and down your hack in an alarming manner; your voice sounded strange and shrill; you went on and on and on until suddenly—0! horrors! your mind was a blank. You waited an eternity and finally a faint voice came to your ears to prompt you; a few more convulsive gasps and you were in your own seat again. It took exactly four minutes. You thought it was four million years. Every time a little farce was given we imagined ourselves great actors and actresses and then and there our ambition was born for a stage career. Don’t you often think of the awful life we led the teachers? Think of what brazen creatures we were to change our seats in Algebra that day! And the poor man said he never in all his years of teaching had such an experience. Yes, some day wre may realize what dreadful children we were, hut perhaps some other children may benefit from the experiences we had. Will teachers never remember they were once “kids”! Once, long ago, the girls made a beautiful black and gold flag, (of cheesecloth i and the boys bravely stole forth in the night and hoisted it above the maroon and gold of the Sophomores and triumphantly stole hack to their beds. But, alas for human hopes! The next morning it hung up like a dishrag, forlorn and dripping, a mournful sight in the pouring rain. Wasn’t it silly and weren’t we happy? Our Sophomore year was largly made up of scorning the Freshmen, as we had been scorned, and struggling with “Caesar ” Dear Man! How often we had wished he had died in infancy. There was a party, too, I remember, at which one of the guests spilled ice cream on the rug, but—what of that! We had a good time. Wasn’t it awful, yes, it was awe-inspiring the way the girls kept that ten dollars the hoys wanted for sweaters. Sweaters indeed! They needed sweaters after the frigid reception we gave them. 1 he crowning joy of all came in our Junior year. All that had gone before shone dimly in comparison to this—the play and the annual Senior-Junior Banquet. Actually we thought of nothing else- Every member of the class of ’16, will tell you the “Hoodoo” was the best thing that ever happened. Why, you can see Mr. and Mrs. Spiggott and all the kids yet, with old Aunt Paradise raving on and little Hem eating his monstrous sandwitches. And the rehearsals! Poor Miss Shillinger nearly went out of her mind hut I think she was proud of us in the end. Yes, indeed! Almost the whole class was in it. I hen we had the Banquet. Every girl talked dresses for a month and I think the boys were slightly interested. It was a grand affair. At least we thought so. One of the waiters dropped a tray of dishes. Crash! Just like that- True to our reputation we laughed aloud. Oh, classmates! If in years to come these words waken the memory of that great event, close your eyes to the public’s gaze of admiration, to the sparkling affairs given in your honor, and remember the perfeet bliss of your first banquet. I know your heart will recall every single person and incident connected with it. First think of our student quests and then of our faculty guests and you will recall quite vividly the utter surprise with which we greeted the appearance of at least one member, that member whom we never suspected of any social ambitions but who proved himself the “belle of the ball.”

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18 T H E MUNHISKO EUGENE JOSEPH DONOGHUE With his quips and his quirks And hard work that ho shirks. With his jokes so funny. We must all like “Donny.’ From the florist he buys blue flowers in a box. One always associates VIOLETS with So.r.’ President Lice President Secretary Treasurer Eugene Donoghue Andrew Mathieson Eva J ones Priscilla Porter Jfksforp of ttje Class of 1916 Will you ever forget that first day? How can you ever forget it? The wild excitement that prevailed the very air, a blur of laughing faces, a sort of shivery joy in your exulting heart, a vague leeling of walking on the earth with vour head in the clouds, but, nevertheless, the realization that you were a “really, truly, silly, giggling, little Freshie!” (), wasn’t it the happiest day of your life! Other days had gone, others might come of triumphs and great joys, but never will a memory stand out so vividly as the one of those first “Freshie” days. Weren’t you proud? Didn’t you stand in the most dreadful awe of the Seniors? The Juniors were a sort of negative quality; toward the Sophomores we felt a resentment of their lofty superiority, hut the Seniors were the goal toward which we were all striving. 1 hey were so dignified, so haughty; so worldly wise (even as we think we are); the girls were so pretty and well-poised, the hoys, regular Solomons of Wisdom! Don’t laugh! You know you thought so too. Wasn’t it funny, the first time you were “on for Literary? Everybody sat in the audience and laughed nervously at everybody else but it was no laughing matter to you. No, sir! You sat stiff as a rod until you heard your name called; then, somehow, no one knows just how, you slowly and painfully made your way to the platform. Your knees shook: your throat felt parched; cold ■

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20 THE MUNHISKO Some day we may grow staid and sober, some day we may eease to laugh but when those days come we will he dead. Geometry! Just mention the dreaded word, it is enough. Does it call up pleasant memories? “Not ta tall! Oh! Not ta tall!” At last we have reached that state of hitherto only anticipated pleasure. Seniors! One must stop and reflect a minute on the full meaning of the word. Somehow, it isn't as rosy as it seems; yon feel smaller and less sophisticated than when you were a Freshman. Considerably less! But alas, the Seniors are worse than the Freshmen in actions. Everything hasn’t been all sunshine, sometimes storm-clouds arose, but in due time they were dispelled in the sunshine that inevitably followed. There are no Solomons of Wisdom in our class, as in that long ago Senior class, and the girls are just dear ordinary girls, the best, after all. But the proverbial Senior dignity has not prevented us from having gay times. A sleigh ride in the middle of the term, and later a pleasant little class party helped break the monotony. Yes, we have had some good times, haven’t we? Rather remarkable is the fact that, with the exception of four (?) mathematics teachers, the same instructors have labored patiently and lovingly with us during our whole High School career. Vie will carry away with us a pleasant memory of each. Gradually we have been slipping back from the airy clouds to solid earth. The clouds did well enough for a starting place, but it was the solid earth earth we were hound for all the time, wasn't it? The figure is a hit mixed, but what matter, the idea is there- Now our last school banquet is over and Commencement Day is looming up in the distance, that happv-sad day, that day which means the end of all our High School woes, and, incidentally, all our joys,—that beginning of the “entrance into the great chance for life.' Priscilla E. Porter.