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

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12 THE MIRROR Senior Motto Docti Meliora Sequamur There is one thing that we are leaving to the Juniors that we did not put in our Class Will, and that is our weekly School Standards Class with Mr. Smith. Through this class we have come to know our School and our Headmaster better than ever before, and we want him to know that we appreciate his giving up his time for us. And so, we leave this weekly hour to the coming Seniors, knowing they will look forward to it, and be benefited by it as we have been. Class Will We, the illustrious and notorious Class of 1924, about to leave this institution of learning, and being of comparatively sane and sound mind, do hereby make our last will and testament before leaving for the land beyond : To the Juniors we bequeath our curtain rods on the doors, our taste in art, our drag, and all our numerous privileges. To the Sophomores our sense of humor To the Freshmen our experience To Fredericka the complete possession of the Senior Girls ' Room And the following personal bequests: Harriet, her permanent to Jane Sutherland Marcell, her business sense to Lynn Mary, her size to Ann Ashcraft Percy, his Latin ability to the Sophomores Larry, his statistical ability to Midge Alfred, his frolicsome nature to Andrew McNally Holy, his killing glances to Panny English, his stature to Billy McEwen Lou, her ability to keep a secret to Frederika Elly, her laugh to Billy Hayden Elinor, her prestige to Babe Ripley Issy, her artistic ability to the Freshman boys In witness whereof we, the undersigned, have here unto set our hands in the presence of witnesses duly called by us for the purpose of witnessing this our last will and testament.

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THE MIRROR Percy Davis (Sheik) Football ' 22, ' 23, ' 24; Executive Com- mittee ' 24; Dramatic Club, Play ' 22, Committee ' 22, ' 24; Organizations Edi- tor Mirror Board ' 24; Editor in Chief Purple and White. The village all declared how much he knew. Elinor Tomlinson (Tommy) ' 22, ' 23, ' S French Club 22, President ; Judiciary, Vice-Justice ' 23, Chief Justice ' 24; Chairman of Seal Committee ' 24; Class Ed itor Mirror Board ' 23, Class Busi- ness Manager ' 24, Quicksilver Editor ' 24; Dramatic Club, Play ' 24; Pirates of Penzance ' 24. Few things arc impossible to diligence and skill. Larry Burr (Larry) Football ' 23, ' 24; Miscellaneous Editor Purple and White ' ' 22, ' 23; Miscel- laneous Editor Mirror Board ' 23 ; Dramatic Club, Business Manager ' 22 ; Lost and Found Committee ' 22, ' 23; Field Captain Whites ' 23 ; Pirates of Penzance ' 24. A cheerful cherub was he.

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THE MIRROR 13 Who ' s Who in New York Ladies and gentlemen! In my recent trip to New York I was much interested, amused, and instructed by those eminent personages who came to my attention. Need I say that they were my revered companions, ot the 1924 Class at N. S. C. D. S. ? How long ago it seems, looking back there from this good old year of 1940! But enough of the sentimental. Let me tell you of the eminent personages of whom I have just been speaking. On arriving in New York, I was escorted direct to the City Hall, where with great pomp and ceremony I was presented with a large key to the city by Mayor Walling. Need I say that the volubility of this illustrious person was all sufficient to the occasion, and that golden words tripped lightly from his tongue. The for- malities over with, we retired from the gaze of the admiring thousands gathered to watch the ceremony, and Mayor Walling graciously indulged with me in a little chat on old times. I found the great man essentially the same as in bygone days, and was touched to think that he remembered me. As it grew towards evening, I retired to my hotel and listened a bit on the radio. After tuning awhile, I came across a horrible screeching, a sort of bellowing noise. Here is what greeted my ears: This is Station WEAF. This is Alf Childs announcing — Need I say that I am the world ' s greatest announcer? I just received a telegram asking me to sing. I shall now com- ply with that inspiring little number entitled, ' The Rose Buds Fill Me Through and Through. ' A thought came to me. I acted on it. I went to the Follies. On looking at the program the following item met my eye: Miss M. Ott, successor to Gilda Grey in popular dances. How divinely she danced! What doesn ' t one see at New York: After the performance, I determined to go to a cabaret. I was seated at a table. The band began to play. At first I thought it was for me, but no. I looked towards the door. There was entering an opulent personage with a red nose, a diamond stick-pin, and a large stogie. The Proprietor, whispered someone. Imagine my delight on recognizing our old friend, Holden Anderson, or Swede for short! He surveyed the scene with a majestic air, motioned to the band to stop playing, saw me, and proceeded towards me. It was a dramatic moment. Then this august character actually unbent, and we talked familiarly for a few minutes, while the gaping public looked on. I returned to my hotel feeling well satisfied with the day. The following morning, I awoke to find the sun shining brightly through my window. I made a voyage to a New York bank to transact a little business. Whilst there, who should breeze in but the president of the bank! The good man shook me by the hand, then a slow smile overspread his face. He cried, Old fellow, can it be you? I looked hard at him, a little corpulent to be sure, but still Percy B. Davis, Jr. As we talked a prosperous looking gentleman entered and saluted the President. The President whispered to me to be respectful, for he was another J. P. Morgan in the form of a stock broker. He wore glasses, he rattled off his words a mile a minute. You are right, it was our old friend, Larry Burr! Weighty engagements now engrossed my friends. I went to the circus. Here I was particularly amused by a young lady doing difficult trapeze stunts with great facility. At last she finished, came down from the heights and bowed condescendingly to the audience. It was Marcell Vennema! My goodness! Circus over, I strolled toward the renowned Greenwich Village. On the way I was confronted by a placard on a store, setting forth in brazen letters the words, I. Fry. Heavens, cried I, someone is frying! and I rushed in to save the poor unfortunate, only to be confronted by the smiling face of Miss Isabel. What do