Northwestern Oklahoma State University - Ranger Yearbook (Alva, OK)

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The Senior Class Prophecy THE 15 ' ERS FIFTEEN YEARS HENCE. (By. N. I. W.) It was eventide. The brown birds were winging home. Aurora driving to the horizon made all the world resplendent and lengthened the shadows that fell across a path leading to a cool October lake in the tumult of a dark pine forest. The lake was called Wishing Lake, and on its banks gamboled elves and sprites, by moonlight. Here the Fairy Queen summoned her sub- jects to doom or to praise mortal ' s deeds. And mortals could, — if they would forget they were mortals, — could once in their lifetime wish at the Fairy Queen ' s shrine. Having just completed a pamphlet which reflected my highest ambition, How to Grow Tall Without Sleeping, I tho ' t to take me to the lake and make my one wish. I pondered some time on what it should be, and settled happily on the lives of the 15 ' ers of old N. S. N. The pines were crooning a soft evening lullaby, and I listened longingly, when suddenly there was a fluttering shadow on the lake ' s calm waters, and I beheld a marvelous swan-boat driven by the Fairy Queen. A whirl and we were off. How I had gotten into the boat I cannot tell, but we were soon far above the tops of the pines, and the boat had changed into a wonderful airship. A small trademark at my foot attracted me. It was: Airships for Air Trips, JAY B. MORTON, Dealer in All Kinds of Air Articles. Free Gas. So Jay was using his gas for propelling air machines. In the yard of a country home the fowls were feeding, and there played among them several fair-faced babes. The mother, on hearing us turned to see who we might be. Lo ! It was none other than Mable Funk turned farmer ' s wife. We next paused above a wonderful roof-garden, the play in progress being a Biblical play, Jonah and the Whale. It progressed wonderfully, and at the end of the last act, at the drop of the curtain, shouts of Author ! rose. And there came forth our own Naomi Drake, elegantly gowned, still possessing her well known interest in Biblical heroes. Away! We hovered over an enthusiastic crowd gathered around a man explaining in a persuasive tone the wonders of a new sensational clothespin, which by means of a phonographic attachment, furnished enter- rainment for the laundress, playing popular or operatic airs according to the mood of the washer. It was designed and patented by L. E. Beattie. I asked to alight. No, his is a sad tale, spoke the Fairy Queen. He doesn ' t know of his success. After working many years, just as he was about to realize his ambitions, the National Humane Society effected his banishment. And Fern Clifton? I asked quickly, Is she, — . Aye, they dwell on a tropical isle, and all day she fans his furrowed brow and sings him love songs of her own coining. Then quickly a stately mansion arrested my attention. The owner ' s name appeared upon the door mat. Arthur Lane. Clearly I was puzzled. Who of the 15 ' ers ever dreamed that Arthur would turn bachelor, — and more, a philanthropist. 26

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HERMIONE M. STEWART, Pi Kappa ' 12- ' 15; Q. P. ' 14- ' 15; Quar- tette; Sextette; Glee Club; Basket Ball 13- ' 14: Triangular Reader 13; Special Assistant Expression ' 14. Thy pathway lies among the stars. STELLA B. HAINES, A sincere, modest, and truth-lov ing girl.

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The Fairy Queen then related of the perfections of a marvelous discov- ery devised by the world ' s greatest scientist and psychologist. The sub- stance of it was that a masculine mind with certain mental propensities, could, when enrapt with a feminine mind of like propensities, who inhaled the fumes of his wonderful concoction, Nitrohyrogasamonaicsulphratumic, could command from the feminine throat a sound or note that would charm the fishes of the sea. This man had searched the world over for such a voice and found it in the person of an old Northwestern student, none other than Lorinda Mason. I now saw below us a boat with gossamere canopy and heard siren-like notes, and saw the fish trailing after, all headed for a sort of shute, which entrapped the beguiled creatures and emptied them into the largest fishery known, owned and manipulated by Melvin Mann, the discoverer. Down a distant avenue came two figures, both nearing middle age. yet gay, each divinely happy with the other. In the same way life seemed com- plete, for they were none other than Sylvia Fisk and Harry Foster, still gathering their large share of life ' s joys as sweethearts ever true. There then appeared another and larger crowd. These were all in a worshipful attitude, gathered about a woman expounding upon their sinful lives. With all her old earnestness and sweet sacrificing I discerned Neva Linn. Those about her wore small, unpretentious bonnets of black and above them waved a banner, Salvation Army. Among those most prominent I beheld Idella Cox, Edith Albright and Gladys Blackford, the exemplary lives of these girls needing no eulogy. In front of a homely bungalow I saw a woman leave a taxi and hurry up the steps. It was none other than Ethel Gray. She had married, thanks to a distant relative, who had kindly died and left her a most opportune fortune. Thru the skylights of a suburban church of Boston I beheld in the pulpit a seemingly familiar figure. I was assured by Yes, it ' s Roy Dillon. He is doing a great work. In one year his converts outnumbered the total of Billy Sunday. From the yard of a gray stone building I heard a familiar voice declar- ing the right of her sex. My heart paused. Surely it was not who I thought. But we cannot evade facts, it was Mayme Spurrier. True to her old spirit, unconquerable, by day she declared to the prison walls and by night she knew speeches to effect her cause, as soon as she was allowed her freedom. At the ocean a vessel was leaving the wharf, and on its deck was a party of scientists, off in search of rare truth and specimens of hymenapthera (and incidentally a man hunt). I discerned the faces of Tilly King, Vivian Robin- son and Edith Heaton, happy as of yore. On our way to foreign lands we saw in Reno a gay feminine figure. It was none other than Gladys Schnitzer. I learned that this was her third trip. She was now securing a divorce that she might marry the bachelor candidate tor governor of Arkansas on the ' possum ticket — Maurice Dickey, Esq. In Paris a more wonderful array of modern modes I ne ' er beheld than those of a Parisian modeste, Byrdie Dyer. What a sinecure, I explained as I beheld our own Byrdie. Next, to the famous Terpsichoreaniste. Her season ' s dance for the society of 1930 was the Anneannoannat. Imagine my surprise at seeing Anna Thomas, its originator, still a diligent student of the Woman ' s Home Com- panion. On the field of war of the Antipodes we beheld a grewsome yet gallant sight. The commander, amid the smoke of battle, was none other than our own Ralph Records, and behind the firing line, watching nervously in his direction and ever giving aid to the wounded and loyal to her commander, was Anita Dunn. 27