Parsons High School - Norseman Yearbook (Parsons, KS)

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TUNE: Ching-Chong. Seniors, we are the Seniors, We a1'e the Kings of Parsons High, Seniors, we are the Leaders Nothing worth while has ere gone by, Now that we have to leave you We give you Juniors full control, So when, we journey onward x You Kids can play our present role. - Tubby Slane. The Bare The year it was nineteen and fourteen The month of September was here It was warm and the dead leaves were falling As we entered our Freshman year. We were told we had great things to conquer That hard trials were waiting us there. We ne'er stopped though quite often we faltered With good spirits we passed the turn fair. Then on, through all troubles and struggles Look forward! Our motto became. Those were days when the future was beckn'ing And was calling the Sophs on to fame. The rough path before us was threat'ning, Clouds and shadows our pathway beset, But thanks to the help of kind teachers We conquered each obstacle met. Our task had been happy and joyous And two laps of our race had been run. Now we turned our eyes more to the future With class spirit to urge us e'er on. We chose white and red as our colors Meaning courage and fair play and power. We Can, Will, and Do read our motto, The red rose now became our class flower. And now, as the last lap is finished, A great challenge is flung to us all, Other courses are tempting us further And we know we must answer their call, Come on! and We will! is our answer, With vict'ry our goal we can't stop. And we're glad that we have the assurance, There is plenty of room at the top. - Mabel Platt, '18. 27 7

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jungle in which four persons were holding a consultation. All seemed strangely familiar to Don, and on looking more closely he was able to identify the man, evidently a missionary judging from his angelic face and the book under his arm, as Lawrence McDonald, and his wife, feign- ing bravery, as Phyllis Vance. The young woman in hunter's garb with a huge musket on her shoulder, Don knew was Helen Burt. The identity of the remaining person puzzled him. Her beauty was that of Cleo- patra, her curls could be compared on.ly with Mary Pickford's, her enor- mous ear-rings suggested a gypsy, while her stately bearing reminded one of a queen. Completely baffled, Don was grateful to have his mind set at ease by hearing the huntress exclaim, Why, Marie Bero, you can help us by charming the natives. They will all think you are a goddess or something, and consequently will be our friends, and good- ness sakesl we need them. . With this scene the glow died out, and Don recalled all he had just seen. The whole class of '18, he mused. Each one seemed to be doing the thing I least expected he would do. However, I suppose that was the work of that precious Magic Mundo, said Don with his characteris- tic ironical smile. TUNE: Down Where the Swanee River Flows QI want to be thereb Now that the Seniors soon will leave you little Freshmen, There's no use cryin' when we're gone We've got to leave you g See the Juniors sit around and not make any fuss, We know that's a good sign that they surely envy us, Just see our dear old teachers, 0 goody, goody, goody-such sad creatures They know that we'll not be returning, Our happy school-days, come back no more, Their hearts are sore, That's why we're going out in the world to stay, Every night we'll have the evenings our own way, Good-bye High School we leave you now. TUNE: I Called You My Sweetheart. Good-bye High School 'Tis time now we leave you, We hate to bid you adieu, All through our lives, Where'er we wander, Our thoughts will-drift back to you: Now that we leave you and say our good-bye, Here's hoping you prosper as our hearts give a sigh, Each of us wish You will live always, To be our own dear High School. 26

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