Munhall High School - Munhisko Yearbook (Munhall, PA)

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THE MUNHISKO 19 genuine sigh of relief you almost ran from the stage and sank into your seat. Our Sophomore year was mostly consumed in battling with the Freshmen. It was a dark and stormy night in which they met their Waterloo. They had gathered at the Library to discuss plans of defense and offense. The Sophs, although outnumbered five to one, took them by surprise and completely routed them. Then came the battle of the Garden Hose in which the Sophs thoroughly and finally baptised the verdant Freshmen so that they would grow and thrive as good citizens of the school. That year we enjoyed our first sleigh-ride. There was a dearth of blankets, the girls almost froze, and the boys were too inexperienced to make efficient use of “Armstrong Heaters.” In the third year we were granted a short respite on the beautiful Social Plateau. All the events of the previous years faded in the rosy brilliant light of the Junior Play and banquet. The play did ample justice to our coach. Miss Schillinger, who responded nobly to the call for assistance and helped us make our little farce. “The Arrival of Kitty” the greatest hit which ever came to Munhall. My. but we got swelled heads over that play! How we were going to put it on in every city of the United States, and become famous in the histrionic world! We actually thought that we had eclipsed the shining stars of Broadway. After the play we met to celebrate our success at the home of a class sister: but two of our number were lost, and the telephone central was kept busy, until finally the lost lambs were located, eating fruit, and returned to the fold. At an early hour the “lobster a’ la mode” was served, the speech making began, and the after-dinner mints Hew about, until the “Juice of Apollo” was turned off. Who did it? ’Tis a mystery. And then the banquet! What a grand affair! At first we were a trifle confused with so many Ganymedes hovering over us, but the “eats” were fit for the gods, and we were soon at ease in this new element. It is still in our memories how we danced, and laughed the evening away. Yes. and made (remarkable) speeches that put Cicero to shame. And now, after a four year climb, we pause for a backward glance over the path which appeared so long and difficult of ascent when we were Freshmen. To our surprise it is brilliantly blooming with the flowers of pleasant memories, which completely cover the boulders of hard tasks and the chasms of zeros. A love for it steals over us. so that we fain would tarry awhile, but our guides urge us forward to the goal towards which our faces have so long been turned. Then we discover that graduation is but the lodge gate of the Temple of Knowledge. The shrine itself lies leagues beyond, enveloped in an indistinct haze. The bonds of work may not be loosed if we would reach it. Not a life of inactive freedom, but of greater service is necessary. As we square our shoulders to the new and more difficult burdens, our hearts fondly dwell upon our High School days. Clarance Weideli.

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IS THE MUNHISKO ISADOR ALLAN LASDUSKY The President of the Class of 1 i 1 7, long will he he remembered for his services to the members of that honored class and to the school for which he labored. “Las” was not only a journalist of no little ability, but oft times was found on the gridiron and on the floor endeavoring to help maintain the standard of Munhall's athletics. He entered the halls of fame in the Junior year, and his pleasing personality soon placed him firmly in the midst of our student body. It was through his ingenious idea that the High School Notes have been weekly informing our friends of our school life. His business ability easily qualified him for Business Manager of our “Munhiskohis musical talent secured him the honor of ‘‘tickling the ivories” in the orchestra; but his courteous manner, his high ideals, his true character placed him in the highest esteem with his classmates. For Las we can only prophesy success again and again, for he will make his mark in whatever field he undertakes. Ibistorp of tfje Class of 1917 One bright September day. four years ago, our band of “Freshies” assaulted the door of room six. We were a happy carefree crowd, with rosy anticipations of a jolly time and a wondrous high opinion of our own importance. When entrance was finally gained and the noise and din subsided. we thought to find ourselves the victors; but soon we realized that Loki himself was not more securely bound than were we by the bonds of work; and no faithful Sygun stood by to ward off the venomous drops of hard study, so poisonous to a free and easy existence. Our faces were forcibly turned toward the Mountain of Endeavor upon whose summit stood the Temple of Knowledge; and we were compelled to climb, burdened by study and goaded by hard work. The instructors appointed as our guides shook their heads dubiously over the Herculean task, as we fell flat amid countless zeros. One of the most difficult rocks to ascend was Literary Day. Do you still remember, fellow classmates, the first time you had to appear before a heartless audience? How, with quivering feet and lumps in your throat, you approached the platform, stumbled up the steps and addressed the President in an unsteady voice? Can you ever forget those streaks of cold lightning that zigzaged up and down your back as you tried to speak, while the words froze on your lips? A sharp report of laughter brought you back to your senses and you finally blurted out something. Then with a

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 20 THE MUNHISKO jfaretoell Farewell to dear old Munliall High The time has come to say goodbye The Seniors leave the halls of fame And enter into life’s great game. The memory of the school shall he In our hearts eternally The times, we’ve given all our might Gave all we had for the Maroon and White. On the gridiron wre took our place And struggled in Olympia’s race On track, on diamond, and on Hoor We placed our banner forevermore. And now we must alas say goodbye To school friends, teachers and Munhall High We, the class of seventeen, Set out, Life’s fight, to strive and win. Anon.