Perrysville High School - Echoes Yearbook (Perrysville, IN)

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had several farm-produce exhibits, I became keenly interest- ed, as I had always lived on a farm. They told me that one man had taken first prize in everything. I went and looked at the exhibits and saw the name Harry Gibson signed to the entry blanks. I remembered him so well as our class president. I then went to Indianapolis, to the large Riley Hospital for children. I had gone over the whole institution without seeing anyone that I knew, until I visited the head matron's office. There I met our classmate, Mayme. She was as eager to talk as ever and was loved by all of her subordinate nurses. I now found myself journeying back toward Perrysville to a farm about five miles northwest of town. I noticed that this farm had large, beautiful buildings and good fences. The wheat and rye looked thrifty. In fact, this farm was a greatly improved, up-to-date farm with all the conveniences of elec- tricity, water-system, and a steam heat furnace. As I was coming up the front walk to the house, the farm lady was playing soome sweet old melodies on the piano. I looked in at the open door and saw our clasmate Gertrude. With those sweet melodies ringing in my mind, I was taken to a large up-to-date country school. This school was taught by a black-haired girl who looked very familiar to me, but I could not place her. I was also attracted by the looks of one of her youngest pupils, who resembled someone I should have known. Before school was dismissed in the evening the teacher gave out the report cards. Then I found out that she was, Miss Mary E. Cole. I read the young pupil's card and saw that it was signed on the back by her mother as fol- ECHOES lows: Gladys M. Daniels. I then knew this child to be the eldest daughter of our former classmate, Gladys Martin. J ourneying onward, I soon came to the city of New York where I was taken to a famous opera in which one of the most talented singers of the day was singing. I did not get to see her while she was singing her first selection, although her voice sounded familiar. When she was called back on the stage, I saw the beautiful young lady. Who was it? you are asking--Opal Hughes. My runaway mind now journeyed to Chicago again and I was entertained at an opera in the Windy City. I was told that the most famous violinist in the United States was playing there. I was expecting to see a man, but, behold! there appeared another beautiful young lady of our ever- famous class of twenty-two. And who do you suppose this one was? It was our former high school pianist, Bertha. Now I found myself in Hollywood, California, In the movie world. I saw one of the starring actresses. She looked familiar to me. She had bobbed hair and a light complexion. You can easily guess who she was. Rubye Ramsey! . Well, my dear friends, my mind came back to my body and I regained consciousness. I cleaned the mud from my clothes and started my Ford without any more mishaps, and had a pleasant time the rest of the evening. Hoping you may be able to travel as quickly and easily as I from P. H. S. to New York and back. p CARL S. MARSHALL, '22, 1922

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ECHOES Senior Class Prophesy One sunny afternoon in April, 1923, I put on all my best trotting harness and shaved in preparation for going to see my girl. I went out to the hangar and pushed out n1y aeroplane and filled the gas tank to its full capacity. I then stepped around in front of it to start the engine. I had to start the engine by turning the propeller, as it was a Ford aero- plane, and did not have any self-starter. I turned the engine over twelve times, and on the thirteenth time the motor back- fired, as Fords sometimes do, and the propeller hit me a glanc- ing blow on the back of the head. This made me unconscious for about one and one-half hours. As I was lying in the mud, stunned by this accident, I saw visions both startling and inter- esting. As if a part of the scenes and places appealing in my mind, I lived, for a few moments at least, with each of my former classmates. One vision stood out plainly in the chaotic jumble-a bill on a telephone pole, announcing a Purdue and Indiana Uni- versity basket ball game. Yes, I found my way there, for the feeling was strong in me that the contest would be exciting, for neither of these teams had been defeated and this was the last game on the schedule for each school. I learned that the coaches of the teams were Kenneth Richardson of Indiana and Keith Coleman of Purdue, who had been basket ball stars at cld P. H. S. The final score, when the whistle blew, was five to five, a tie. They were nip and tuck as always. My next visit was to the Rocky Mountains to a large pine- forest reserve. While I was there in the forest, I had the thrilling experience of seeing a large forest fire being killed by the forest rangers. One brave and energetic man of strong physical power and presence of mind, seemed strangely fami- liar. I watched him intently for some time, commanding, workingg fighting the mighty confiagration. Mont! My mem- ory recalled the same old Doc. Going from there to one of the western cities, I had the pleasure of witnessing the construction of a large power sta- tion. The workmen were installing large dynamos and gen- erators under the supervision of the head electrical engineer. He was a tall, slim felow, who looked very much like someone I knew. After Watching for sometime I recognized this engi- never. And who do you suppose it was? Well, I was surprised, it was Kenneth Myers. My wandering mind next took me to large hospital in Chi- cago. No one knows how I came to be in the operating room, but there I was, watching the skillful movements of the sur- geon who was inserting a rubber stomach into John D. Rocke- feller's grandson, to replace his worn-out one. Turning to the trim nurse attending, the girl with the plain little gold band on her left hand, he urged, Do hurry, Peggy! Here's the sponge, Sol, was the clear reply, as she handed him the article. I then knew this wonderful surgeon to be Charles Carithers. Now finding myself at a Farmer's Institute, where they ' 1922

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ECHOES Senior Class Will For four long years the Seniors have continually collected all the High School knowledge available from every source. We have had full use of all reference books, the right to ask as many questions as we cared to and this last year we have had supreme control and naturally were rather dignified, but the end of our four years had at last come. We must leave our loved school and seek other modes of living in the world while we leave P. H. S. behind to benefit the deserving lower classes. We depart, leaving the greatest of hopes and wishes with the school and hope it may receive higher honors than heretofore. I leave to Clifford Smith, the right to sharpen his pencil two or three times a day, to Anna Chatt, the right to talk all she wants to, to Kenneth Smith, the right to giggle when giving oral talks, to Kathleen Matthews, the right to be late on Tuesday mornings, and to Opal Trimble, my ability in type- writing for next year. Opal B. Hughes, '22, I leave to Elsie Hines the right to laugh in Algebra Class, to Charley Clawson, my powder pud, to Edna Smith, the right to read all the books she can find, to Ward Parke, the right to talk to the girls. Mary E. Cole, '22, I leave to Berdina Gouty, the right to go to parties, to Madge R. the right to have all the Cates Beaus she wants, to Rexel Crowder, my smiles, to Carl Coleman, the right to part his hair in the middle, and to Paul B., the right to be late. Mayme M. Ellis, '22. To Lynn Richardson, my place in the Oratorical, to Ken- neth Smith, the right to laugh in English class, to Oral Bow- man, the right to play hookey, to Helen Sanders a self-kept Diary, and to Leah the right to smile. Harry L. Gibson, '22, I will to Mr. Frederick the front seat at tournaments, to Oral Bowman my position on the B. B. team, to Roumania the right to keep dead mice in her English Book, and to Carl Cole- man, the right to help the girls hitch up after school. Kenneth Richardson, '22. To Carl Coleman, I leave the right to tease the girls, to Kenneth Smith the right to talk without laughing, to Wayne Jester the right to Block in B. B. games, to Miss Lundergan, the use of conventional discourse, and to Mr. Frederick, the right to Boss, Mont Coleman, '22. I leave to Carl Coleman, the right to be captain of the Basket Ball Team, to Lynn R. my place as forward on the team, to the Juniors, the right to study Shorthand, to Paul Beckelhymer, the right to flirt with the girls, to Kenneth Smith, the right to sleep in English class, and to the Sophomore girls the right to have fellows.', Keith E. Coleman, '22. To Opal Trimble a can of pickles, to Leah Dunham, my bobbed hair, to Merle Hay my right to chew gum, and to Paul B. my good behavior. Rubye F. Ramsey, '22. I will to Carl Coleman, the right to play the school march, 1922