Quincy High School - Oriole Yearbook (Quincy, MI)

Page 26 text:

“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 ’

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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.

Page 27 text:

Today we launch our ship and our friends are with us to break on the prow of our vessel the champagne bottle of their love and good wishes. We leave port with sun shining, a smooth sea and our friends waving us “God speed.” Tomorrow we will be 1 ‘Like ships far off at sea , Outward and onward bound are we; Before , behind and all around , Bloats and swings the horizon ' s bouna. Today the last cable which binds us to our high school days is severed. But we carry with us our charts, compasses and our wireless and we know there are lighthouses to help us on our way. Then too, all around us are other crafts that will quickly respond to signals of distress. Tomorrow we shall go beyond the harbor bar and more will be expected of us as morrow by morrow the time sweeps by, and more must we do to make ourselves worthy of the esteem of others. A ship which has never sailed for the first time knows only of the land which it is leaving. We know only the experiences of the Past; the Future is the unknown land toward which we journey. As we leave the harbor and pass out into the sea of life, we will notice at first only tiny waves, but the longer we sail we will see the troughs become deeper and the crests higher. The troughs must come in order that we may meet and appreciate the following crests; yet we must all steer with a steady purpose, else in some storm our bark go under. It is not the ripple on the surface that tries the make and material of a ship; it is the storm, the high winds and the waves which show them best of all. We are not all bound for the same harbor, but there are many toward which we may direct our course. One may steer his ship toward the port of Wealth and at last gain it, but often with long deprivations and friends forsaken or betrayed, for the greed for wealth causes man, in many instances, to infringe upon the rights of his fellows, and, as age advances, he enjoys no confidence and sometimes no respect from them except the respect which wealth alone brings. He may have many com¬ forts which are denied the poorer, but what are these compared to the love and trust of many friends? We recognize the fact that one may become wealthy thru honest labor and so use his wealth that the general interests of mankind may be furthered. He who acquires wealth under such conditions will prove himself a ben¬ efactor in whatever society his lot may be cast. But let us consider another harbor. It may be that of Fame. To become fam¬ ous is the aim and desire of not a few in the present age. Fame may be compared to a bubble which is soon to burst and fade away in mist. Fame is that by which others know us; it may be one thing today, and the opposite tomorrow. A man may become as famous through an ignoble deed as by one which is virtuous. And for the sake of fame a man is oftentimes willing to sacrifice the principles of manhood on its altar. We must even confess that politics and literature, even religion and philantrophy are used as a means by which they may attract public attention. There is still another port which many seek. It is the port of Usefulness. Each day’s journey, if we steer aright, may bring us nearer this port, and it should be the duty of everyone to lead this simple, helpful life and extend the glad hand wherever it is needed; or in the words of Sam Walter Foss, If you see a man in woe , walk right up and sav ' Hello '