Northfield High School - Orange and Black Yearbook (Northfield, MN)

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Senior 'jflropbecy NE day in early spring I was sitting at my desk, battling with physics problems. But soon cat'sfur, electroscopes, ebonite-rods and galvano- meters bacame vague in my mind and gradually I sank into a dream in which I saw my class mates as they would appear some years hence. The colossal ruins of Rome rose up before me. In the midst of them I saw a man who bore every mark of a philosopher, digging apparently for Caesar's high chair. He was our old friend Hagbard Eikeland. In a university library I saw Mary Blanchard assisting people to their wants in a lady-like and pleasing manner. Xext fancy showed me the horrors of battles fought in the air. Large aero- planes bearing German and English Hags flew here and there, charging and re- treating. My attention was drawn to a plane which bore a Red Cross flag be- cause the two occupants were familiar to me. The man, who carried a case of doctor's instruments, was James Lapham and the lady who wore the garb of a Red Cross nurse was Ella Suess. Henrietta Larson in a beautiful country lane, beneath the shadowy light of the moon, was studying the A, B, C's of astronomy with a handsome young as- sistant. In the reclaimed desert regions of Arizona was a very successful spineless cactus farm. Needless to say, practical Nettie was the owner. The Siamese court appeared in all its splendor. The King, seated in a lux- urious room hung with rich tapestry and rugs, was being entertained by the pranks of our former classmate, Ernest Croonquist, now court jester. In a large eastern school for girls, Nellie Peake, as president, was winning the love and friendship of all the students. In the same institution I found Daisy Fertig, a matron of one of the dormitories, and Della Simpson, a teacher of Ger- man. The House of Commons in London appeared before me in session. A thin, determined looking woman was presiding over it with much ceremony. To my surprise I recognized her. It was Eunice Christiansen, the anti-suffragette of our class. A similar shock was given me when a few moments later I saw Thomas La Pointe making stump speeches for VVm. J. Bryan, who for the ninth time was running for president. I thought such outbursts of eloquence as came from Tom would surely win the presidency for Mr. Bryan.

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Elm 'jflort of missing Ullenn Un the Storm Beaten shore in the Land of the Long Night where the Crested Seas sparkle Under the Xorthern Lights, there lies in an Old Red Sandstone Rock Haven an Ancient Landmark, a wrecked 'Fmigrant Ship. Looking Toward Sunset from the Red Rock of this haven one sees Along the Shore a Lonesome Trail which leads From Sand Hills to Pine, connect- ing the huts of the Norse, Lapp and Finn people who f'VVork at XfVhaling and Fishing. Que Summer, Long Ago, A Tragedy Unknown to History took place On the Face of the XYaters of The Mighty Deep surrounding the Island. The Records of The Strange Story' just As it Happened are found in The Reminiscences of Lavengro, The Hermit, who lived there at that time. Early in The Nineteenth Century A Group of Noble Danes lured by The Call of the VVild sailed away for A Hamlet in Iceland to join the Toil- ers of the Sea there. 'tThe Captains Daughter, A Fair Maid, went with her father. They were a Merry Party until they arrived at The Passage Perilousf' Then, At Sunset the Gathering Clouds in The Far Horizon, warning them of The Tempest caused even The Bravest of the Brave sailors to 'gD'red the coming VVind and VVave. At Day Break, The Deluge came upon them. Driven from the Path and From Day to Day Carried by the Storm In the Great Deep they had a Hard Struggle. The Fate of the Dane ship was decid- ed when, one night, misguided by The Light on the Hills of this island, they were crushed on the rocks. At Dawn of Day Peter the Whaler, found, Cast up by the Sea. The Child of The Captain of the Crew, The Survivoru in the Fight for Life, while The XVreck of the Gosnovern for such is the name carved on The Pilots' wheel, showed him The Victor in The Conquest of Fate. Thelma. as She was called by her Rescuer, found Happiness in The Simple Life which is lived by the children of the sea. She won the Love and Friendship of Every XYoman and Every Man in the comnnmity. Ever in HT-Ier Memory she cherished the Scenes of Childhood, but with The Sea she always associated K'Horror and Death and to this day the harbor bears the name she gave itf The Port of Missing Men. RUTH jixeons. fb ax fi!! 1 w TWT-X H 1GjH5DjNl 'I , fm my 1- was nf? - -1 -f - TY Y ,, :Ei ' 5 Q, 1 fc LJ, YT, L'2lA1'LTf , , g-114 r 's -Q X,

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In my dream I visited Elizabeth Hervey in her poor, but clean quarters in New York where she was sacrificing wealth and position for her love of music. On one of the leading business streets of Paris I saw Robert Moore's dress- making establishments. Ernestine Donaldson illustrated his designs in beautiful colors, which designs had become famous throughout the fashion world. Alice Ellingboe, a lively matron, came before my eyes. She was gayly Hitting about among her guests at her summer home in Newport. VValter Fink appeared only for a moment. VVith a questioning W'hy,' he vanished. A newspaper came before me. An advertisement in a prominent place at- tracted my attention. It read thus: XVanted, a good, reliable husband by a well- preserved young lady of thirty-five. A well-to-do man preferred, but others may send in applications. Signed, Frances VVeichselbaum. I saw Mary Hart faithfully teaching a school in Alaska. It seemed as if VVillis Haugen had at last come out of his shell when I saw him as a man of strength and power in Congress. All at once a queer looking army of women passed by. They were being led on by the shouts and commands of their general, Mabel Nelson, and lieutenant, Eunice Gossman. Olive Shirley, Ruth Jacobs and Dena Nystuen marched by, carrying large banners with Votes for VVomen on them, while Mr. Dougherty, our honorary member, brought up the rear, selling pictures to defray the expenses of the campaign. Un the porch of a farm house I perceived a book agent trying with all his vocabulary to make the lady of the house buy his book on f'How to Hatch Ducks from Chicken Eggs. The book agent proved to be Arnold Peter and the farm- er's wife was formerly Ruth Day. Farther down the road that ran past the house I saw a fiock of sheep which, as I found out later, belonged to Clemence Tschann, a progressive farmer and sheep raiser of the county. The massive doors of a church in Minneapolis next appeared before me. I entered, and as I did so, heard sweet violin music from the direction of the choir. The program of the service showed that the musician was Florence Street who was opening the services with a violin solo. The music ceased and a curly head appeared before the altar. It was our old football star, Ralph Fremouw. A few moments after the sermon began, hearing a commotion behind me, I turned and saw Mabel Emerson enter. She was beautifully dressed and carried two French poodles. After church I went home and was surprised to find a large pile of mail on the table, though it was S-unday. A sample copy of a paper lay on top. Out of curiosity I picked it up and opened it. It was the Corn-Crackeris Chronicle edited by Rudolf Schmidt for the farmers. In it I found a long article on Raising Pumpkinsl' by Fern Ebling. In the household section were recipes for pickles and canning fruit by lVilletta Hatfield and a sheet of fashions designed by Esther Hope. In the mail was a letter from Dagmar Landberg in which she told me of her travels in Europe. She had written from Berlin. Among other letters was an advertisement sent out by John Truesdale, now head salesman for Kellogg's Corn