Quincy High School - Oriole Yearbook (Quincy, MI)

Page 25 text:

WINNIE BELLE WHEELER Full of fun and sunshine, Eyes of merry blue, Sunday school organist And one good girl all thru. EDWARD R. LAMPMAN Edward Lampman next we come to, A farmer every inch, Fond of books and studies, Physics to hint ' s a cinch. VIVA BEATRICE CRADDOCK Viva is this damsel ' s name, Her tho’ls are very deep. She ' s always thinking of her work Except when fast asleep. BLANCHE M. MARSHALL And next we come to Blanche, Quiet and quite, sedate. But willing to help and give a smile, And she ' s very seldom late.

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IRENE KATHERINE BUCKLEY Then, too, there is Irene. She ' s full of fun and life, Good at teacliinn in Sunday School She can settle any strife MILDRED MADORA DOBSON Studious and quiet. With an ever pleasing ‘Sir’, Born to be a doctor. Her dealings are all square. FLORENCE F. KINYON Black hair and big black eyes, Possessed with a musical voice. Her favorite they say is a Iieed, And ' Roll, Jordan Roll ' is her choice. ROY S. BAKER This boy is great on athletics. He ' s occasionally (?) sent out of class, He oftimes makes the Seniors giggle, Aral likes to have with him a lass.

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“Launched, But Whither Bound?” Clelti Hemry “Build me straight, 0 Worthy Master, Staunch and strong , a goodly vessel , 7 hat shall laugh at all disaster , And until wave and whirlwind wrestled ’ O N a September morn twelve years ago, when the birds were singing and the sun was shining, several small children made their way toward the school- y, house for that wonderful “first day of school,” toward which their little minds had been turned with great expectancy for some time. There were several of us girls, tidy in clean white aprons, sunbonnets on our heads, a book in one hand and the other fat fist pressed hard into our apron pocket. We went shyly up the broad steps, then into the schoolroom and seated ourselves in a little community of our own. There were the boys, too, whose sturdy little-man¬ nish ways clearly distinguished them as beginners; but they were not as shy or as timid as we, for they looked and acted very unconcerned as they trudged into the room and were seated with the rest of us. We can well remember those first days at school, the friends we made, the les¬ sons we learned, the games we played, how hard it was to be and keep still, how patient the teacher was and how she appeared, as well as many of her ways. What a wonderful year it was! We had our love affairs, our quarrels, our reconciliations. We were angry if anyone brought the teacher more apples than we did and we envied the boy who could get the most gum in his mouth at once. We tried to do everything the older pupils did and we were green with envy when we looked at the reckless sixth graders. Oh, would we ever, ever be twelve years old, and be able to draw those wonderful maps of Africa? Year by year we went on as the work grew harder and the lessons longer. Some days good lessons, some days poor, but going ahead slowly and surely. The years passed. We reached the sixth grade, but it wasn’t half so soul-satisying as we had anticipated. We now lifted our ambitious gaze to the Senior class. How awe-inspiring was that magic word, “Diploma!” How perfect to our prejudiced eyes was the behavior of the Seniors. “The King can do no wrong” we thought, and we longed for the happy time when we, too, could carelessly saunter up the street to the schoolhouse, mem¬ bers of the class of 1910. Discouragements came thick and fast; a bright day encouraged, a dark one made our outlook gloomy; but still we pressed on toward the goal, and we are here today, the “Thirteen” class of 1910. So have we builded our ship, staunch and strong enough, we hope it to be to “laugh at all disaster , And with wave and whirlwind wrestled ’