North Shore Country Day School - Mirror Yearbook (Winnetka, IL)

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SCHOOL COLORS As every school wants to have its own colors, the mat¬ ter of selecting the colors for the North Shore Country Day School was given to the whole school. Different colors were suggested and voted upon, Pur¬ ple and White receiving the most votes, hence they are the colors of the school. SCHOOL SONGS To the Tunc of “The Orange and the Black” Wake the echoes, wake the echoes Along the old North Shore; Wcki make them ring a rally As we sing as ne’er before. Chorus: Here’s to North Shore, dear old North Shore, She always stands for right. And we will stand forever For the purple and the white. Each year adds to our numbers; Each year shall swell our throng; Each year increase the tribute That to North Shore doth belong. Chorus. To the Tune of “My Spanish Guitar” Oh, we are the students of North Shore Our name it will travel afar, Rah! Rah! We ’re proud of our faculty corps, Our aim is to be above par. Rah! Rah! Chorus: North Shore School! North Shore School! Ring out ye bells, for North Shore, our School! For North Shore, our School! North Shore School! North Shore School! Ring out ye bells! For our Ncrth Shore Country Day School. Rah! Rah! We want to excell in our book lore, Wc want to excell in our sport. Rah! Rah! But always in making our score, “Fair Play” is the thing wc exhort. Rah! Rah! Chorus.

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Mr. Perry Dunlap Smith Headmaster

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CLASS WILL We, the members of the Class of 1920 of the North Shore Country Day School, being of sound mind and clear understanding, do hereby dispose of our worldly belonging as follows: Our sense to the Juniors. Our organization to the Sophomores. Our harmony to the Freshmen. Our diminishing ability to K. Mordock. Bette her size to Dot Gaertner and her disposition to M. Fulton. “Liz” her laugh to George Stevenson and her love of fun to Carolyn Case. Mary her depth to Betty Miller and her sense of humor to Mr. Willis. UPPER SCHOOL Senior Class A Nightmare of Names Last night I dreamed a fearful dream About our Senior Class. 1 thought I saw them all “grown-up,” And out in the world, alas! Small Bette owned a blackSmith shop Built on the edge of a Wood. The muscles swelled on her brawny arms As in the heat of the forge she stood. Her Smith, a Haven for thirsty folk, Held, T whisper it low, Age-old Sherry and mellow ale, A scandalous thing, you Knowe. As I regarded this queer sight, ‘ heard a bumping noise. A wagon, and a Limping horse, All filled with girls and boys, Was conr ' ng towards the blackSmith shop. T strained my eyes to see. The driver was our old friend “Liz,” Out with her family.