Perrysville High School - Echoes Yearbook (Perrysville, IN)

Page 25 text:

- -- ECHOES to Osa Pierson the right to have gentlemen callers, to Paul B. my old powder puff and paint box, and to Shorty, the right to bring eggs in her lunch. Bertha K. Murrmann, '22, I leave to Wayne Jester, the right to be the heavyweight champion for P. H. S. to Russel Crowder my art of winking at the girls, to Kenneth Smith, my good Physics grades for use next year, to Roumania Vanarsdale my seat in the Senior row, and to Kathleen Matthews, my alibity to get to school in time. Carl S. Marshall, '22, I will to Paul B. the right to use an eraser when type- writing. to Anna Chatt, everlasting silence, to Elizabeth Allen, the right to play the piano, to Otis D. the right to talk to Clara, to Wayne P. the right to become an orator. Gertrude G. Jones, '22. To Kenneth Smith, a magazine in which he may find an oral topic, to Carl Coleman, the right to talk to the girls, to Wayne Jester my weight, to Ward Parke, the right to part his hair in the middle. Kenneth Myers, '22. I leave to Kathleen Matthews my stately gait, to Kenneth Smith, my throat, to Roumania Vanarsdale, my beautiful hair, and to Carl Coleman, my loving disposition and Ways. Charles L. Carithers, '22, 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

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E C H O E S Seniors Listen, dear people, I'll tell you true, Of P. H. S. Seniors and Teachers of '22. Just thirteen in number was that Senior class, Governed by the good Supt. Mr. Bass. Mr. Frederick, the coach of our B. B. Team, To grow a mustache was his dream. And Mr. Elliott so slender and tall, In physics no other but him would do at all. In typewriting class, we would all click away, Until Miss Lundergan would tell us the time of day. Then Friday came with oral topics and tears, To Miss Fuqua we recited these with great fears. But Wednesday and Thursday were days of gladness, We sang away all cares and sadness. For we were taught by our singing teacher, Who was none other than dear Miss Buescher. Harry was our president, To become a teacher was his intent. Carl, who was our heavy-weight, Said he could never learn to skate. Of Seniors there were but thirteen in number, And none was ever known to slumber. Of teachers there were only six, But none of these ever had any picks. 1922 Rubye, whom we sometimes called Rube, Was always in a smiling mood. And our physics student, Coleman, Doc Q In his own opinion was as fiim as a rock. Then came Keith so slender and tall, At skating he says he never did fall. And Kenneth Myers, or alias Chink, From high school duties he never would shrink. Then Sol, the joker of our class, In shorthand he would always pass. Then came Gertrude, who was the blonde. Of writing to sailors she was very fond. And Bertha, the shortest of our thirteen, Also played on the girls' ball team. And Kenneth, who lives across the river, Came to school sometimes in a Flivver. Mary Cole came next in line, Over her lessons she did not pine. Could Opal Hughes typewrite? Yes, indeedg With the average of fifty-six for her speed. Now I have never mentioned my name, Because it will always be the same. In school, I always did my best, And now I have plenty of time for rest. MAYME ELLIS, '22