Oakhurst Collegiate School - Acorn Yearbook (Cincinnati, OH)

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off to see my customers, spending the night on one of the new airplane sleepers and arrived at the operatic center of the country, Earlsviile, Where the first per- son on whom I called was Gillian Brammer. I found her drilling a chorus of that exquisite new opera, The Boys Beautiful. She has had much experience in this work and her boy pony choruses surpass any- thing heretofore seen. I next called on Ruth Selser, residing at Middle- burg, and while all of my classmates that I have seen so far were carving out careers for themselves, she seemed to be the one exception, having a very pretty home of which she takes complete charge, seeing to all of the housework and personally taking care of her three children. She is devoted to her husband and has a great many warm personal friends among the gentlemen in the neighborhood in which she lives. She cares nothing for out-of-door sports, and can not be induced to drive an automobile or an airplane. While at Ruth's house, she asked me if I would not like to see Alice West, and upon my saying that I 22 should be delighted, we started out to find her. Being one of the most popular ladies of the town, this was rather hard to do, but at last we located her at the ttLadies' Athletic Club, of which she is the presi- dent and the largest member, weighing two hundred and fifty pounds. I had now completed my eastern trip and started for home, but before I arrived I had made up my mind to stop at Middletown, Ohio, which, as is well known, is the center of fashion of the world, and here, over the door of the emporium, was the name of Ruby Roegge, Who has become justly famous for her skill in designing ladies costumes. She, personally, showed me her newest models which were wonders of beauty. After spending an entire day with her, seeing her most exquisite and elaborate creations, I returned to the small village of Cincinnati where I found that my potted peanut factory had been burned to the ground, having been set on fire by a villainous man, jealous of the great business successes of the female sex. KATHARINE LYND.

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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

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CLASS SONGS The Long, Long Trail AYS we've spent With you, dear Oakhurst, All have reached the end. Though the wide world we travel, Youtll still be our friend. 01d remembrances are thronging In memory and heart. Though we all are going far away, In spirit we'll never part. Choruse We've a long, long trail a-Winding Into the great big Beyond. Old Oakhurst, we are leaving you To tread on unknown ground. There will be our tears at parting; For all our school days are through. Wetre going down that long, long trail That leads us far from you. The Rose of No Man's Land AREWELL O. C. S., we are leaving you, To blaze an unknown path. We will sail the sea of things to be, And reach the goal at last. Dear old 0. C. S. to you we owe our best, Our thanks and our praise are true, Let us give three cheers for your guiding years And well bid farewell to you. 23 Rainbows T THE end of our school days With happiness, Comes the sorrow of parting from you. We will close the school door, to enter no more; 'But our hearts will ever be true. Teachers, forgive our failures, We've striven to do our best. To you we owe our gratitude. Farewell to you and all the rest. Choms- We all are leaving Oakhurst. Oakhurst, you are our pride. Now we will try our little wings, Laying books aside. Sometimes we look and fmd the sunshine, But now we only find the rain. Oakhurst, we do not want to leave you, The years we've spent with you have been a gain. Wetre sorry That we must go from Oakhurst, But Well think of you always the same. J OANNE BOYLE.