New Hanover High School - Hanoverian Yearbook (Wilmington, NC)

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We stood without, there was no room within, Till the clapping of hands was over; Then my raptured soul on the melody Was wafted from fields of clover— And I felt the air colder and colder grow, What was my muse-horse intending? The beautiful Southland was left behind— To the North Pole we seemed ascending. Over Mt. Saint Elias, With its everlasting cap of snow, Still north to the frozen Yukon And the land of the queer Esquimau. Into the regions of Klondyke, Away in this climate of cold, Was my classmate Leonard Merriman Digging and digging for gold. Such an attraction has this ore of yellow For mortals here below, I found it difficult my quest to follow, Watching his golden pile grow. But finally leaving the river With its glittering sands of gold, My course was again toward the Southland And its myriad blessings untold. The last I saw of Merry, As we took the backward track, He was shoveling down by the Yukon, With a violin upon his back. Over the Canadian Rockies And the Selkirks grand and hoar, Over the wonderful glaciers And the canon’s tumble and roar, East to the St. Lawrence river, Hundreds and hundreds of miles, Into the green Archipelago— The beautiful Thousand Isles. Now in this favored labyrinth Around the eddying pool, Was quite an imposing establishment “Man’selle Parmele’s Cooking School.” How glad I was to see Hva No one can well surmise Unless he had twice lost his dinner Flying about in the skies. Her pupils were just the prettiest girls, And they served the best things to eat! In attractive caps and aprons white, My! when have I had such a treat? Refreshed in body if not in mind, I was ready for flight again, So into the great Metropolis We went with might and main. 29 In the middle of Madison Square, A platform had been erected, Multitudes of people were crowding around, Some lively and some dejected. I pressed close by this motley throng To learn of so great attraction, As the crowd burst forth uproariously, And my horse was crazed to distraction. “Behold! Behold the suffragette!’ A thousand tongues burst forth, “Hear the would-be voter Tell us of woman’s growth.” When on the platform broad and high With the old-time saucy air, Dressed in mannish habiliments, Stepped Charlotte O'Neill, I declare! I, with the audience, spell-bound stood, Great men with emotion swooned, As with her burning eloquence Our spirits were near consumed. When the last siren word was uttered, Such a sight would your pity command, A struggling mass of humanity Trying to shake Charlotte’s hand. I followed to the home of suffering, And slipped in with silent tread, Down past rows of white cotted cells, Many tales of sadness I read. Just before I reached the swinging door That lead into the open street, A familiar form in uniform white Arrested my sudden retreat. On her soft brown hair the snowy cap rested, On her brow the cute little frown; Margaret Pleasants, the gentle trained nurse, Was surely winning her crown. After a chat over school days, King Sol had dropped down a pace, And his afterglow on the beautiful bay Could all, thoughts of sorrow efface. But my Muse and I had no time to spare, Watching the sunset grow, We had engagements uptown on the Av’nue At the mammoth millinery show. Madame Jordan’s hat creations Were dreams of beauty and art, But after half hour in her tasty salon I was ready (without tears) to depart. Maggie had changed since the dear old times, Her spirits had quieted down, The charge of a big establishment Brought care as well as renown.

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Class Prophecy A task had been assigned me: Miss Carr had sa id the word; A monstrous task, yowll all agree, When all of it yowve heard. Oh! listen to the declaration that made my hands turn cold: Your task is this— Draw back the silken curtain From the days that are to be, And reveal to us the future Of this Class in History. No double faced Janus Was at hand to give me aid, No Pithoness on tripod Passed out oracles ready made, Nothing but grim fancy Could my arduous task make light ; Encircled in her nebulous arms My spirit could make the flight. Hazier and hazier Grew my fancy’s veil, Till everything in earth and heaven Seemed lost in a dreamy gale. After the mist and the cloud cleared away, My pulses leaped with delight, The Class Prophecy of 1911—Hooray! For Pegasus all bridled stood ready for fight. A moment we rested on Mother Earth, Then up to the heavenly blue. Up, up, up over mountain peaks Higher and higher we flew. Now we drifted along in the rarefied air With scarcely a thought for the morrow. When life is a dream with never a care, Why of “Old Father Time” need we borrow? But suddenly such a commotion In the heavens was seldom seen, My steed was wild with emotion, And the very air turned green. A monstrous array of flying machines, As man had yet only dreamed of, Came whizzing and buzzing and whirring be- tween The sunlight which streamed from above. Twas a race in mid-air ; The world’s renowned “Aviator,” they say, With the world-famous Novelist was Flying away. 28 Come, Pegasus, come We must join that race; Perhaps if we hurry We can see her fair face. No air ship built by mortal man Could ever distance cover In such brief time as my steed can; Beware, oh, ardent lover! So in a moment, or perhaps in two, Tis hard to keep time when yowre flying, We were up with the Aeroplane built for two And into two faces were prying. Willard Cantwell and Mary Worth! Two classmates I held most dear; Who would have thought it in High School Days! Mated geniuses resorted to air. After this shot, my hand grew unsteady, So gently touching bridle, We slowly descended to dear Mother Earth And found the old lady not idle. She had swept all. the landscape with South and West breezes And kissed all the icefields away, She had dressed hill and dale with verdure that pleases And the brooklets were holding May Day. Afar in the distance were milling Herds of cattle full many a score, As the lark to his mate softly trilling Whispered “Twilight is here once more.” When look! and I startled with awe! For leading her broncho between Came Oceana Cavenaugh, The ranchman’s bride and the cowboy’s queen. So free and easy the life there seemed Twas in my heart to stay, But with nineteen more lives to be foreseen I had to be up and away. Passing low o’er western down My eyes caught the glad array Of hundreds of people going to town To celebrate a festal day. The concert stage held two stars of note Of equal magnitude, And both were to play the selfsame day And not on the other intrude. For Katie Louw Meredith Could warble her lay While Edelweiss King The piano would play.

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With a tender farewell for my old classmate And a sly glance at hats and laces, We were soon downtown to Battery Park Embarking for Coney’s horse races. A mission I had to this great round ring Where fortunes are won in a day, I learned, in passing, of a friend of mine, Whom I must see without delay. We had fellow feelings in days gone by And he had followed their bent, But I searched in vain through the jockey crowd Till my strength was well nigh spent. So back to Manhattan Island And another field of sport, To the popular Polo grounds The pride of Greater New York. The baseball season was in full swing, The sports were in their glory, Maidens fair with their latest beaux And old men crippled and hoary. My search at last was near its end For on the reporter’s stand Was Stein, the sporting editor, Pen and note book in hand. His dress was just as immaculate As im the days gone by, But his mustache had grown to such a length, And Gee! what a monstrous tie. After the Giants in white had lost With a score of two to one, Stein closed his note book with a bang, “Now,’ said he, “Well make a run.” So when dinner on Broadway was over, We were ready for Gothan’s best play, Now, Blue, old boy, I’ve something to show That will take your breath away. The curtain rang up on the first act, As we the box sheet passed, New York’s greatest sensation Being staged by the finest cast. Tier on tier of curious faces Filled that Opera House, The air was tense with expectancy, The place was still as @ mouse, But this nervous strain soon relaxed When the first short act was through. With a deafening round of applause And flowers that fell like dew. For with trailing robes of ivory white Spangled and ’broidered with pearls, Bowed the peerless actress, Diamonds sparkling in her curls. 30 There was no need to tell me The name of that creature so fair, Without prophetic vision, Long ago, 1 knew she'd stand there. Mary Houston’s histrionic talent Shone forth in amateur plays, Down in dear old Wilmington, Before the 1911 days. The rest of that play is but a dream Of faces and lights and fun, All revolving around Mary As planets around the sun. But a greater surprise awaited me Before we left the city. As we sauntered along down Broadway Whistling an Irish Ditty, “Hina Myers, Female Physical Director” These words arrested our attention. “Class hours from 8 to 11 Girls developed to any dimension.” We rushed into the building To see if it were really so, The Edna Myers of St. James Square That we once used to know. ‘Twas the selfsame little lady; She was training a hunared girls. They were jumping the board and riding the horse, And doing all kind of athletic twirls. But there I had to leave them, To battle along my way, Down through the crowded thoroughfare That leads to Gotham’s great quay. A magnificent “Ocean Liner,” Redundant with conscious power, Was ready to weigh her anchor However the clouds may lower. I sprang along the gangplank Just before the whistle blew; When after we passed “the Narrows,’ This floating palace most flew. Out on the pathless ocean, Away from the seagull’s cry, I could dream and dream forever In this expanse of sea and sky— When for shame, my musing fancy Was given a sudden check, Such billing and cooing was never heard Hacept on a “Liner’s” deck. IT turned my head slowly around To peep at the turtle doves, When in a steamer chair I espied A veritable pair of old loves.