Port Huron High School - Student Yearbook (Port Huron, MI)

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The Christmas Ship How many of us need a description of the real genuine feeling of Christmas? Very few, for we have all realized that calm spirit of contentment, the love of simply being alive with tingling fingers and conscious toes, with a heart that responds to the feeling which rises in the throat when the full meaning of Christmas presents itself plainly to the mind. Far away, somewhere in war-stricken Europe, a great many were ex- periencing this feeling in its completest form, for thoughts of their universal Saviour brought the greatest balm to the many deep wounds inflicted by the ghastly conflict existing but a few miles away. It was only about two weeks before Christmas and ideal Christmas weather had already set in, somewhat snappy and thrilling, cloudy over head with a steady flurry of snow cov- ering the streets with a downy covering of white fluff which clung to the feet of the passerby and held fast to the coats and hoods of every one, making them look like snowbirds, while the soft pattering of the flakes on the faces made them glow and color up like the rosy side of a juicy apple. With the coming of the snowflakes, the spirit of war, so deeply imbed- ded in the crevices of their hearts was silenced and superseded by the soul-strengthening and vivifying spirit of Christmas, coming but once a year to make us feel the worth of living by eliminating our sorrows and troubles for a short time, at least. Before a gayly decorated Christmas window two little mites were standing hand in hand, their rosy, dampened noses pressed up tightly against the steaming window, while the wide open merry blue eyes contemplated the store of interest- ing play things displayed. “Oh, Jenny, don’t you wish Santa Claus would bring us that big horse there in the corner by the soldiers and cannon? 25

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Honor Roll Students with a standing of 90 or above in all four sub- jects : SENIORS Mildred Carlisle Evelyn Pace Alice Cook Elsie Presspricb Grace Donaldson Quinneth Summers Marguerite May JUNIORS Elmer Chamberlain Florence Fleming Elmer Chadwick Warren Simms Virginia Elliott Helen Barrett Edna Hall Leona Little SOPHOMORES Frances Smith Marian Soutar Beatrice Winn Oliver Han ton Isabel McLaren Marie Maurer Mildred Monzo FRESHMEN Guy Oliver Beatrice Isbister Lloyd Reid Gordon Tappan I shot an arrow into air. It fell to earth, I knew not where, Until the man on whom it fell Came ’round and gave me — the information. Mr. Davis (calling Smith Bros.) — “Have you any extra large bushel baskets?” Alumna — “I hands with.” miss many of the old faces I used to shake 24

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Don’t you think I’ve been good enough all year, helping moth- er in father’s place, and everything to deserve it?” The little appealing face of Tommy Atkins, Jr., was lifted entreatinglv to his sister, a quiet, responsible looking girl about four years his senior who was gazing earnestly too into the store window, wishing for the little china tea set in the corner, gayly decorated with gold and flowers. Hut she knew it would do no good to wish, for she remembered well her mother’s warning made the night before, concerning the non- appearance of Santa Claus at their house this year, because, as the mother had convincingly said, Santa wouldn ' t be able to find them this year because they had moved from their pret- ty white cottage with the green shutters and the dowers up into that old ramshackle tenement house where the Saint would certainly pass them by and besides, because of the war, Santa Claus would be too poor by far to visit everybody this year, especially such poor people as they. Jenny had accepted the mother’s decision as final and so had said nothing about her desires, but had forcefully and quietly laid them aside as never-to-be-realized dreams and had finished the household tasks, which she was accustomed to do after coming home from school, ever since her father had gone away with the soldiers and her mother was forced to work at the munition factory in order to provide her family with necessaries. Tom- my’s words had brought the mother’s sweet, patient face clear- ly before her and she realized it to be her duty to pacify Tom- my as best she might so as not to pain her mother further. Hut, Oh Tommy was such a dear, it did seem a shame that he should have to be disappointed too, this year! A feeling of revulsion towards the war swept over her and she had to fight hard to keep the lump down in her throat and the tears from her eyes. But downing her emotions she resolutely clenched her chubby fists in their thin mittens and determinedly shook her head with its wealth of yellow curls. “No, Tommy, don’t you remember what mother said yesterday, about St. Nicholas coming to our house this year? The horse is very pretty but 26