Oakhurst Collegiate School - Acorn Yearbook (Cincinnati, OH)

Page 22 text:

ALICE POLLOCK BRAY Her voice is ever soft and low; And often sunk in thought is she. We can not guess, we do not know Of what she thinks so seriously. 20

Page 21 text:

RUBY MARIE ROEGGE We have a sweet-voiced songster Whose songs are fair to hear. She,ll drive away your troubles With ambrosia for the ear. From dawn until the evening When all the daylight fails, Her deep brown eyes are pensive, For she,s dreaming of her scales. 19

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The Peregrinations of a Potted Peanut Vender T IS 1924, over five years since the eWorld War ended and two years since woman has almost entirely taken the place of man in the business world. I have just started on my semi-annual trip selling potted peanuts, which you know, is now one of the greatest of delicacies, and can be found in every well- regulated household. My trip covers most of the large eastern cities and I decided that I would look up my classmates of that almost forgotten year of 1919, When we graduated from what is now the larg- est and best known school, not only of Cincinnati, but of the Western Hemisphere. Of course, it is familiar to all of you under the name of Acorn Educational Institute. My first stop was at the large and flourishing city of Lisbon, Ohio. I hunted up Annis Richardson, who had eloped at the tender age of nineteen. She is head of the well-known firm of The Ladies Perfect Thirty-six Shirtwaist Co. She introduced me to her husband who seemed to be a perfect housekeeper and to have their two children very well trained. After a long and wearisome ride on the train, I reached that beautiful metropolis of Westmoreland, Pennsylvania, where Mary Dalton resides and con- ducts the most exclusive hairdressing parlor in this section of the country. I was very busy and scarcely had time to say how-do-you-do, have my hair dressed, and wish her good-bye. 21 From there to my next stop did not occupy much time and I arrived at Scalp Level, where Virginia Kittredge teaches dancing and is noted for her poise and grace of movement. I spent the night with her talking over old times, and the next day went on to Sunbury, which, being the center of art and literature of the country, you would naturally expect to be the home of Joanne Boyle, who writes such classics as Dick of the Highwayft ttThe Lone Bandit of Smoky Mountain, etc. She also has a national reputation as a painter of young ladies faces. It was only a short trip from there to Hereford, where Elvina Sprague runs a chicken ranch. I did not get to see her, as it was dark when I arrived in town and she and the rest of the chickens had gone to bed. The large manufacturing city of Cold Spring, New York, was my next port of call, where I found Ruth Kelly and, as should naturally be expected, Ruth was teaching department to the young ladies of the high school. In the same city, by accident, I met Alice Bray whom I had not heard of for some time and whose address I did not know. I found Alice was superintendent of a shop for manufacturing boilers. She had obtained her position through the fact that she had such a powerful voice that it could be heard above the din of the ringing metal. We spent a few hours talking over our school days. Then I hurried