Oneida Community High School - Mohawk Yearbook (Oneida, IL)

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SENIOR ANNUAL-CLASS OF NINETEEN HUNDRED ELEVEN ONEIDA HIGH SCHOOL CLASS POEM INTRODUCTION. The prophet dream», the visions come and go. To him the veil that hides the future years. Seems tc dissolve, dimly the scene he views For hut an instant, then it disappears He writes of shady glenns and sunny dells And such poetic prose quite puts me out And when he speaks of May bells and of Thornes What has a poet left to write about? Oh let the Prophet simply prophecy And leave the Poet to Invoke the muse For when the »r«»phei tries to do It all Softly the Poet murmurs “What's the I’re?” Why are all the people screaming. See the gorgeous banners streaming Bayonets and sabers gleaming Of the soldiers on parade Who's this person they are cheering As his carriage is appearing The triumphant arch he’s nearing See! he stops beneath Its shade. Then an old man close beside me Turned around and coldly eyed me As tho he should like to chide me That such Ignorance I should own Then he turned and without saying Anything, he heard the braying of the hoi ns the band was playing And his face with pleasure shown Then a maiden young and pretty On my lgnorar.ee took pitty vour a stranger In this city’’ That’’ she said I plainly see Or you’d know why hands are playing Why these pennants we’re displaying And so with no more delaying She explained It all to me So 1 heard the explanation Of this glorious celebration That 1 thrilled with admiration Is not very hard to guess Not a single year that passes But the per pie flock In masses Just to see this king of ('lasses 1911 O. H. S. ENVOY Ambition spurs each one to do his best Then do your best altho you win no fame A nd altho fortune mocks you. pl«' the game And play It well, where're your lot may fall Win fame and fortune If you can. hut still Be gentle men and women first of all’ R P S

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SENIOR ANNUAL-CLASS OF NINETEEN HUNDRED ELEVEN—ONEIDA HIGH SCHOOL GIRLS' BASKET BALL TEAM Top Row—Ulutl M»'i'ur Urat e Mt'f'uliorh Bottom B»»w HHrec Ulenu. Lula Thorne ;iatlv« Pattr. Kva Wen h

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SENIOR ANNUAL-CLASS OF NINETEEN HUNDRED ELEVEN—ONEIDA HIGH SCHOOL CLASS PROPHECY I was musing at the fireside, with the liKht burning low. tor It was far Into the night and the oil wax fast dis- appearing. With my weary body stretched out In my easy arm chair to rext—the kind of rest that one craves to clear a troubled and perplexed mind—for 1 was weary with my work of th hours and vexed with my seeming slowness to comprenend the hidden mysteries of the sciences that our worthy professor was striving to record upon our cere- brums. As I sat thus musing, my honored classmutes seemed to enter and exit In the scene which my clouded mind beheld; and it aet mod as If I were again in the prehistoric class- room—this time, many years hence. In place of the bright, roguish faces of youth. I beheld in my colleagues, the stern and dignified expressions of men and women in their prime. Around them all seemd such an atmosphere of skill and learning, that I congratulated myself on the fact that our capuble professor had so instructed us in these mysteries-- that I was one of such a grand circle, one in whom the fire of newer, broader, higher purposes had become a part of their very beings—and so rlched with the accumulated treasures of knowledge and experience. How pleasant It all seemed, a beautfiul dream and yet a reality. The little fairies of imagination and fancy seemed to be weaving about me such a magic spell that I could feel the thrill and tingle of enthusiasm that come from the West- iand —the soothing influence of the “shady Glenn' after a “Melton day —the warmth and brightness of the “sunny Dells,” where the “Thorne” seemed to flourish in its beauty and the “Myrtle twdne its delicate tnrlls around our very heart strings, while the “Maybells” w’ere loudly proclaim- ing the arrival of Johnny-jump-up in Adam's garden of Eden. How' I longed for it “Eva” to he thus. Oh! for those happy days to return and to find myself, once more, in the midst of that happy group as in days of yore—days that we unca to think long, tedious and irksomt . while SOW we would gladly recall them If It were possible and live over again those hours of pleasure and striving. Hut In this uge of unrest, s -archings, and dreamings. we must forge ahead and show to the world w'hat kingly men and queenly women, the class of double one. has given to the service of this old w-orid of ours—a product of much study, experience and training, and certainly a degree of excellence, which our successors would do well to appre- ciate and strive to attain unto. My vision changes and ns the procession of former classmates was thrown upon the curtain of my Imagina- tion. I beheld the cool, shady glen transformed into a lion's den—not the wild cave-liko den 1 had at first imagined, hut a cozy one where happiness and love reigned supreme. Westlund alive and awake to the hustle und rustle of the century was busy on an aviating tour.a regular booster m.d boomer for progress!veness amid the rising cities of tne plain. The personification of “Grace” 1 found to he more eiab rat« d upon in the book of “James.” It seemed as though nil walks of life were filled by my worth) class-