Oakfield High School - Oak Leaves Yearbook (Oakfield, WI)

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entered the University at Madison and later went to the Northwestern in Illinois. I was ordained at the age of thirty and preached my first sermon in the old church at Oaktield. Friends, I had about the same feeling then that I had when I spoke in the declamatory contest at Oaktield in 1911. My knees shook so that I could almost hear them and my breath came in gasps. I have preached in many churches since then but like none as well as my beautiful little church and parsonage in Madison.” “Professor Ripley, you are next,” again says the hostess, looking at a broad-shouldered, noble old man, with thick, white hair, mustache and beard. “My friends,” begins the professor, removing his powerful glasses, “after leaving Oaktield High School, I went to the University of Wisconsin. While there I had the opportunity of joining a party of mine inspectors who were going to the Rocky Mountains. The amount of sickness among the miners appalled me and I determined to help them. A few years later I was made professor of chemistry at Harvard and while there, discovered my remedy. It has proven of great benefit to the human race so that now such diseases as small pox, diphtheria, consumption, etc., are practically unknown.” Here the company gives him grateful looks and wait for the hostess to announce the next speaker. “Mrs. Murphy, will you give us your account, now, please?” “Bejabers, and its Oirish, I am now.” A hearty laugh rings out as two dimples appear in the cheeks of a cheerful little old lady, whose hair is slightly streaked with gray and whose blue eyes gleam with fun. “Well, to continue, I taught school for foive years, after leaving our Alma Mater. The last place where I taught was in a beautiful pine woods near Lake Superior. Here I met a young Irishman who had by an industrious life, won for himself a beautiful home and thousands of acres of land among the pines. Here we have lived ever since, happy and contented although annoyed each year by summer boarders.” and another happy laugh leaves her lips, as she finishes her story. “Yes, Marie, and you always used to say you would never get married. Mr. Atkins I believe your turn is next.” Mr. Atkins hardhT knows what to say at first, but gains confidence. “For five years after graduating, I was a clerk in the firm of

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(Elafia lUmtuntut lH5n The night is wonderfully clear and warm and the guests have gathered in the home of Mrs. Hazel Somers, in the quiet, peaceful little village of Oakfield. A luxurious banquet is being given. The hostess, gentle and friendly, flits about eager that her guests be well taken care of. Gray-haired men and women are these, some with lines of care upon their faces, but a pleasant and cheerful spirit pervades the elegant room. “Now, while the soup is being served,” says the hostess, “let us give an account of ourselves. This is the first reunion we have had since 1920. You, Mr. Filbey,” speaking to a portly old gentleman at the foot of the table, “as the president of the class of 1912, begin. Relate what you have been doing all these years.” Mr. Filbey looks around at the company present, smoothes his curly, white hair, clears his throat, and begins, “Well, ah, let’s see —I really can’t remember much of my youth, nor what happened after commencement except that I obtained a position as chauffeur for Marshal] Field of Chicago, and went on a tour of the United States and Europe, which lasted three years. Then I became Junior partner in an auto firm in New York. Not long afterward I was married. I have always been in good health until now, that I am in danger of consumption,” laughing and slapping his fat knees and shaking himself until his plump face becomes red and beaming with good humor. “Frau Veilchen, will you please tell us your experiences now?” says the hostess. A stately lady, tranquil-faced and blue-eved, inclines her head. ‘ ‘ Soon after my graduation at the famous college of Lawrence, I went to Germany to study music. My instructor was a young professor, who could scarcely speak English. This necessitated a more thorough study of the language on my part, than I was wont to give it in the days when dear old Miss Bangsberg so patiently taught us. We were finally married and have for long years been conducting a conservatory of music in Berlin.” “Ah, Bess, you always were queer. Now we would like to hear you, Rev. McClain.” All eyes turn respectfully to a white-haired preacher, who says: “Fellow Classmates, after leaving the school of my youth, I

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Cowles Carpenter Co. Later I obtained a position as a telegraph operator at Fond du Lac. From there I went to Milwaukee, as traveling salesman for the Patterson firm, selling medicated toothpicks. When I was thirty I married an heiress and thus ended my hard struggles.” A smile appeared on the faces of the guests. The hostess then says, ‘ ‘ Miss Parduhn, we will now hear your story. ’ ’ A small thin lady, brown-eyed and with hair untouched by age, begins. “For several years after leaving high school, I taught country school but found that too tiresome. I turned my thoughts to story writing and published about a dozen books. I have always been greatly interested in woman suffrage and made a great number of speeches. While speaking in Boston one day, the women became so excited that a riot was started, and a number were arrested. I was also put in jail. Thru the efforts of my friends, I was released and that ended woman suffrage for me. Twenty years ago. a small fortune was left me by an uncle, and now in my mansion on Lake Geneva I am leading a happy but secluded life.” The hostess again speaks. “Mr. Large is the only one absent. Can anyone tell us of him ? ’ ’ “The papers state that he is in Bellevue Hospital, New York, recovering from a fall obtained in attempting to flv his new aero-car,” answers Mr. Filbey. “Since he is unable to appear, we would like to hear your story, Mrs. Somers.” The hostess begins, “After graduating from High School, I attended Lawrence College, where I enjoyed everything, especially serenades and promenades. I took up domestic science and learned to bake bread and all kinds of things. Later when I married Dr. Somers, I started to do my own cooking but the doctor soon became dyspeptic and so I concluded to let my servant do the baking. I am the only one who has remained in the home town.” “Good for you. Hazel!” shouts the company. Springing up from their chairs, they shake her hands and become again the class of 1912.