Park Ridge High School - Hoot Yearbook (Park Ridge, NJ)

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28 ,flgzjm ras .HCBQT W lgfxjsl, Again the scene changes. On the porch of an immense house in the city of Oradell, I see a small attractive woman seated in a swinging couch. She is delivering to one Beatrice Stumpf Smith, a curly haired little girl five years of age, a lecture for the petty offense of continually saying 'at's peachy. Now again I see this woman, before her marriage, however, spending six years in glorious restitutional workin Belgium, called from America by special summons after the termination of the World War. I am now, it seems, in a flourishing Jersey Italian town, Emersonia. On one large building in the business district I read 'Bello, Bello, and Sons, Manufacturers of Men's Foot and Neck Wear.' The senior member of this firm Joseph A. Bello also is, in avo- cational capacity, however, 'The Official Looking-glass Tester' for a New York Mirror Co. All is darkness. I hear the drizzle of rain. Before me there looms a large school building. It is called the New Jersey Model High School, formerly Park Ridge High School. Within I see in progress the meeting of a literary society. The entertainer of the evening is the world renowned elocutionist, Miss Desmond, Whom despite the inclem- ency of the weather I see coming from Washington D. C. for this special purpose. Ac- companying her is her classmate Marian Van Wagoner who fills the position of social sec- retary to the president's wife. The entertainment over, I see the domestic science teacher serving refreshments. She is a charming widow, and is called Mrs. Van Scott. Now the principal, Miss O'Brien is conducting the guests through her school. She is indeed proud of it. I hear her explaining that the building was designed by the noted architect, Merrell Maybeck. The interior decorating, 1 believe she attributes to another classmate, Sylvia Dawson. They are now passing through the library. The principal, I see producing from the shelves a recent, and as she calls it valuable addition to social life. The book is en- titled 'Key to Etiquette' written by Irene M. Bromilow. Miss O'Brien is now pointing out another contribution to the school. This time it is a bottle of medicine called 'Anti- giggler' patented by Matilda Schriever. The bottle and directions for use occupy an honored position in a display case high above the reach of meddling Freshmen. The school principal and visitors have disappeared. I hear two women, presumedly gossips, discussing a certain Miss Teller, owner of the Anti-toxine farms at Nanuet, N.Y. It seems, she does nothing but enjoy herself, leaving her entire business in charge of the manager, Miss Phillips. Once a month, however, she visits her farms and for some un- known QTJ reason takes pleasure in testing new stenographers with such words as anti- meningococcis, pneumacoccus, polyomelitis, and the like. Mike O - - - O - - - Oh, Yes, Michael La Morte. I see him the owner of a prosperous taxicab service noted for promptness and quick action. I see no? yes, three large golden balls. This gentleman, it seems, always possessed natural brokerage instincts. In the back ground there is a iieeting dream of Wall Street. Again I see this same man now

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,fipirferss rsioswrwusifk, 27 The scene is changing. In Berlin, Germany, I see a group of three persons dining. Their names, as I get them, are Christina Weitkamp, Elsie Wiesner, and Dorothea Schmeh. They speak of successful business careers. Several years have passed. Again I see this group, now, however, with the addition of three men, their respective husbands. The chief topic of their conversation is the most wonderful operation of the age. It is an operation for retarding growth performed by a world renowned surgeon, Dr. Beensen with the assistance of the famous trained nurse Miss Murray. The group remark further that the latter is to the surgeon an invaluable aid especially in intercourse with foreigners. ln this way she has merited the title of la kleine Senorita Murre, the connoiseur of lang- uages. Am? Yes, I believe I am in the city of New York. There appears before me a woman at work in her den. Upon the desk at which she sits lies an open newspaper from which I read 'Advice to the Love-lorn' edited by Marion Briscoe. The editor herself is peru ing a letter over which she smiles. The writer wishes to be advised whether she should give up a good business position for married life. From the tone of the letter there seem to be no doubt as to the sincerity of her love. No name is mentioned but ...... the letter is signed Ruth Jersey. Iam still in New York City. From the top of one of the famous Woolworth Build- ings, a man is conclesceniingly delivering a mast eloquentanii ornate speech upon labor conditions. His listeners area crowd of persons in the streets below. I can hear men in the crowd call him Professor F. Kra.issl, President of the Industrial Workers of the World. They say he was given this position of leadership because of extraordinary speechmaking propensities. This scene is becoming blurred. In it's place I see a billboard announcing the debut of a charming and wonderful ice ballet star. She is advertised as Helene Edna but I, how- ever, see the name complete Helene Edna Meyer. You have in mind now acertain classmate called Dorothy Haubner. There is revealed to me a prosperous Kentucky to .avn named Stormesville. I see a quiet scene in the home of the most prominent and influential citizen. The former Miss Haubner is seated at one side of an open tire-place and on the other side is a short, portly gentleman. In the door- way there appears an ideal Kentucky mammy. Her mouth shapes a word of two syllables. Now all is dark. I see nothing but I hear a noise. Yes, decidedly it is a giggle. Ah! the darkness is dissolved and there lies stretched before me a large summmer camp in the Ramapo Mountains, New York. Seated Indian fashion on the ground arf: a number of Camp Fire Girls in the midst of whom stands their giggling guardian, Miss Bloch.

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fflljlfs THE .HQQT 11 EVM, 29 posing before the camera as Charlie Chaplain's younger brother. His feet too are insured at so much per yard. I see now an office- yes -in Chicago. On the glass door is written Private Office. George Granger, Jr. Owner of Granger Car Factories. Within, the owner himself is reading, in spare moments news of his home town. He holds in his hands The Park Ridge Local edited by his cousin and classmate Anna Ritter. With much satisfaction he gazes upon the last page. It is a full page advertisement of Granger Cars Sz Grangerine. The latter is a fluid costing only fifty cents per gallon: one half cent cheaper than gas- oline. It is guaranteed to run all cars even 1902 Model Maxwells whose machinery is ex- ternallylocated. The advertisement, however, plainly states that the Ford's alone are excepted for it says furtherthat Mr. Granger's personal experience has convinced him that nothing can be guaranteed to run them. The office has vanished. Again I cross the ocean. Now I am gazing upon a village in Scotland made famous by Tonner Airedale Kennels. I see the dogs having their teeth inspected and attended to by the kennel dentist, Miss Marie Dexter. She is the first to make a success of canine dentistry. The Scottish village gives place to a scene in Manilla, Philippine Islands. There I see the noted settlement worker Miss Mary Miller inspecting new fields. There also I see the Hon. Douglas McCully, Governor General of the Philippine Islands. The words ceasej. With a start Cassandra sat up in the seat. With a start I sat up also. Bath canlles became lighted simultaneously. Then, noiselessly as if still in a trance the somniloquist stepped down from her throne and ghostlike approached me. She held towards me an open book which I easily recognized as a well worn copy of Virgil's Aeneij. With .1 long tapering finger she pointed out a portion of a passage. By the dim light I readily translated it as follows: Future fate by Cassandra now revealed By heavenly order 'til later unbelieved. Then by some mysterious agency Cassandra vanished, first into the shadows and then fioating backwards into space. Suddenly the room became flooded with light. A door opened from nowhere and I was ushered out. Although Ihad heard the words of the somniloquist I still wondered what the future held for our Class of 1917.