Pardeeville High School - Whisper Yearbook (Pardeeville, WI)

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Ubr Uhtflyrr Tournament The High School Students gave their annual Basketball Tournament at the High School Gym. November 2, 3, and 9. On November 2 the first game was played. The Sophomore Girls challenged the Senior Girls to a battle. The game ended with a final score of 8 to 0 in favor of the Senior Girls. Immediately following was another game between the Freshman and Junior boys. It was a rather one-sided game, because of the inexperience of the Freshman boys. Although the Fre shies fought bravely until the end the final score was 53 to 5 in favor of the Juniors. On the following night the Freshman and Junior girls entered into the contest. Much to the surprise of the audience the Freshmen won with a score of 1 7 to 0. Also on this night another game was played between Senior and Sophomore boys. They played a fait and hard game, and when all the smoke was cleared the board had a final reading of I 2 to 10 in favor of the Seniors. The following Monday the final games were played. The Senior girls played the Freshman girls winning by a final score of 10 to I. Also on this same evening the Senior boys played the Junior boys. The game was a disaster for the Senior boys. The score was 41 to 7 in favor of the Juniors. Mr. Arthur Heaps officiated all of the games. A beautiful trophy was awarded to the winning teams by Mr. Heaps. The Senior girls and the Junior boys being the two winning teams. [28]

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 ahr HJhtBjjrr J{ Due to the Death Once on a time there were two boys, Mortimer and Horace, who were both madly in love with the same girl, Hortense. The scene of their romance was in the thriving town of Pardeeville. Did you not ever hear of Pardeeville? Why, it is a little town in Wisconsin, about ten miles from Portage. Well, affairs had reached a climax, and Hor- tense had not been able to decide which of them she liked best, and as Horace was in a hurry to get somewhere, they had to have some method of deciding. So Mortimer, whose father used to be a member of the royal guards when he was in France, said: “Let’s fight a duel over it, maybe we can decide in that manner.' Horace did not like the suggestion in the least, but as he could not think of anything that would be better than that, he had to agree. Mortimer then asked Horace what kind of weapons he pre- ferred. but Horace said I don’t care what you pick. Mortimer then said: “How about pistols ? My father taught me how to hit the bull's eye at 150 paces? Horace became horrified at this. No indeed, we shall not use pistols. “Then what shall we use,” asked Mortimer, “Swords? If so, I will show why I am called the king of the blade.” Horace, by this time was blue in the face with terror, while Hortense gave him a sweetheartly smile and this gave him courage. He said: “How about making it a pie eating contest? “I don’t know what that is. but 1 am willing to try it, quoth Mortimer. “Send me your second in the morning to arrange for the final details. The next morning Horace, true to his word, sent a man over to represent him as his second. The outcome of this conference was that the duel was to be held on the stage of the P. H. S. and with the student body officiating as a referee on Friday, the thirteenth of the month, which would be the next day. When the next day came, it found assembly crowded and the contestants were arrayed in overalls and dark blue bibs. They each were furnished with a stack of blueberry pies, and their hands were tied behind their backs. They fell to eating, and Horace led him with a grand splash into the midst of his pie. The duke (nickname for Mortimer) had to stop and lick his lips every other bite he took. It was all going fine for Horace, who had almost all of his down, while the duke was only finishing licking the plate from his second, when some practical joker rang the fire siren and hollered FIRE in about seven languages, which raised a hideous uproar. The building was cleared in about twenty seconds, which, I have hardly need to mention, has been the record to date, and lo and behold, if the duke had not vanished with the crowd. Horace was found licking his chops with his stack of plates strewed around him on the floor. When asked if he had not heard the fire bell and smelt the smoke, he said: “Where is the Duke and all the crowd?” But the duke and the crowd were all forgotten with the scene that followed. His Hortense was there, and she enveloped him in a smother of kisses. He got a letter from the duke the next day. asking a thousand pardons, but it was never answered. So ends our story, which goes to prove that you must never judge by appearance. — (Note) This is a quotation from me.—Fuzz. [30]