Oshkosh High School - Index Yearbook (Oshkosh, WI)

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i V The Star-Spangled Banner Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn ' s early light, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight ' s last gleaming? Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thro ' the perilous fight, O ' er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming? And the rockets ' red glare, the bombs bursting in air. Gave proof thro ' the night that our flag was still t here. Oh, say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave O ' er the land of the free and the home of the brave? On the shore dimly seen through the mist of the deep. Where the foe ' s haughty host in dead silence reposes. What is that which the breeze, o ' er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses? Now it catches the gleam of the morning ' s first beam. In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream: ' Tis the star-spangled banner, oh, long may it wave O ' er the land of the free and the home of the brave. Oh, thus be it ever when freemen shall stand Between their loved home and wild war ' s desolation; Blest with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land Praise the power that hath made and preserved us a nation! Then conquer we must, xvhen our cause is just. And this be or motto: In God our trust! And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O ' er the land of the free and the home of the brave. Page sixteen i

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MAT INDEX FOR NINETEEN HUNDRED SEVENTEEN The Buttercup MARY SCOTT Now, did you ever hear me tell About the Buttercup, How all the fairies from the dell. Came out one day to sup? They came from every near-by nook. With tiny bells to ring. And gathered by a rippling brook To feast and dance and sing. The sun shone bright and all were gay. They ' d come to celebrate; The little crippled lad that day Was made to walk quite straight! And so they gathered honey sweet. And mixed the nectar, too. And made dear little cakes to eat. Of many flowers that grew. When all was ready neath a tree, A wee small fairy spoke,- There are no buttercups, said she, For any of us small folk. They hurried about and soon they found A little flower white. Its petals like a cup so round They filled with butter bright. So after this that flower grew Beneath that willow tree; Its petals stained a golden hue With butter, don ' t you see? That night the fairies quietly, In secret crept to where The lad lay sleeping peacefully. And laid the flowers there. Next morn beside his pillow white Those yellow flowers lay; And ever since those blossoms bright. Bring back to him that day. And now each spring that once-crippled boy. For flowers of many kinds Does search; but laughs and cries with joy When Buttercups he finds.

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MAY INDEX FOR NINETEEN HUNDRED SEVENTEEN A May Day Game IRMA NIGHTHART THE first of May dawned bright and clear. The pupils of the country school were going on their annual trip of gathering May flowers. At nine, the teacher and pupils had arrived at the school-house, and, lunch-boxes in hand, this gay procession started for the woods. Arriving in the woods the boys and girls scattered in various directions to gather flowers. After picking for some time, they returned to the place where they had left their lunches. Every one found that the lunches, which on starting from home were declared too large for such a tramp, were scarcely enough to satisfy their appetites. While the hungry childr en were eating, they became aware of a small pair of beady black eyes that was watching them. Soon a twittering was heard and a much enraged little black and white bird about seven inches long flew away but soon came back again. This act was repeated several times. The teacher explained to the children that they must be near his nesting place. Do any of you know the name of the bird? she questioned. Several voices shouted in unison the Bob-o ' -link. You are right, she said. Do you know a poem about him? This time only one pupil, a girl, answered Robert-o ' -Lincoln. That, explained the teacher, is the name William Cullen Bryant called the bird. To Bryant he is a bridegroom dressed in his wedding garments of black and white. Probably his stride has also influenced Bryant to call him braggart and prince of braggarts. His song as Bryant hears it is: Bob-o ' -link, bob-o ' -link, Spink, spank, spink, Chee, chee, chee! Give, me another poem which Bryant wrote about a bird, and then hearing no response, she began: Seek ' st thou the plashy brink Of reedy lake, or marge of river wide, Or where the rocky billows rise and sink. On the chafed ocean side? All the pupils at once responded, The Waterfowl. What poem did he also write about a flower which I think most of you picked this morning? A sixth grade boy sitting on the outside of the circle answered, The Yellow Violet. Now, said the teacher, you see the influence which a bird or flower may have on the life work of one man. Since we have commenced to give Page seventeen