Racine High School - Kipikawi Yearbook (Racine, WI)

Page 166 text:

K, g gi ' A D -M M - .if I 5, yegfzm-4. M gg 'i i fl 'f't't5PW?'e r551-wiv' , ,-9.5 I-J. 'ggi the desk when students whispered. They simply smiled encouragingly. No clanging bells announced the end of the period. Instead, a flunky, clad in lux- urious livery, entered the Assembly Room and Went to each individual and asked those who had recitations the following period to adjourn to their classrooms. Whlen a student was tired, he had only to go to the Rest Room, where he could recline in a hugh easy chair for a period. There were no hated school books, no dates, no diflicult rules to learn. In class the boys discussed football, baseball or racing, the girls talked over the latest events of society, While the kind-faced in- structor passed silently from one to an- other, and if a student talked especially well, he received an encouraging pat on the shoulder. At the termination of the period, the pu- pils did noti have to climb long flights of stairs. Elevators stopped at each door, and in this way the students were con- veyed from one recitation room to an- other. The students in one recitation were just enjoying a talk about the Country Club dance when the flunky announced that the period was over. I awoke with a start, and looked up. Oh, cruel fate! It wasn't a richly-clad flunky who was speaking, it was Mr. Brooks, who called a cheery Good- night to me over the railing. Ah, yes! the high school in reality and the high school of my dream are two dif- ferent institutions. I had no elevator to take me to the hall, so that I might get my wraps, but had to walk up the long flights of stairs, tired as I was. I tried to comfort myself with the thought that perhaps when women had the ballot, conditions in the local high school would be like those of the high school of my dreams. -Hazel Buck, 'l3. Teacher Cinterested in birdsj-i'Did you ever see a night-hawk? Soph.- I'have seen a lot of night- hawks coming home on the owl. 1 THE? SMOKEIVS RECPETNTANCE CWith apologies to Shakespearej Oh! my offense is rank, it smells to the ofliceg It hath the Principal 's curse upon it. One solitary pill! Refuse if-I can 't-- Though inclination be as sharp as will, My strong desire defeats my good intent, And, like a man to double business bound, I stand in pause before I take a pill- Then smoke another. VVhat if these lips Were thicker than themselves with cigar smoke? Is there not rain enough in old Lake Michigan ' To wash them white as snow? Whereto serves water But to remove the traces of offense? Then I'll wash up, my fault is past. -Guilbert Barr, '12, LUCY'S THEME The day was hot and sultry. Every- body in the Assembly Room was heated and uncomfortable. They squirmed and twitched, and twitched and squirmed, really adding to their misery, although they were unaware of it. At length a cool breeze from the lake wafted in through the window. Slightly relieved, Lucy, an important little Freshman, set- tled down in her seat, with an exhausted air. Oh, how I wish it were a month from now, she said to herself, longingly. There would be: No more lessons, no more books, No more teacher's saucy looks. And, continuing rather dreamily, I sup- pose a month from now I shaall be out at Grandma 's farm-maybe, in the hammock under the trees, or drinking soda Water, or eating candy-um-um ! She spent the next few silent moments in pleasant an- ticipation of the long summer vacation before her. She was awakened from this reverie by a silvery little laugh close to her elbow. She started nervously. . Ohl what was that? she asked, look- ing around her.

Page 165 text:

1 'f ' I + , M .-sf.- ,., i... -. .,.,-x .f- at ': .f as'-we-i f-V' 'wr'--me-aww . plished no extraordinary results, and by his loud-voiced declarations that he would not serve a so-called third term, even if the people wished it. That was quite a large 'tif, but at that time the people of the United States would hardly have hesi- tated to make Roosevelt king if he had so desired. But he did not so desire, nor did he wish a third term-at that time. But if the people did not re-elect him, it would be a pleasant duty to say whom they should elect. So Mr. Roosevelt named William Howard Taft as his successor, and William Howard Taft was the peo- ple's choice for 19019-13. After seeing his protege elected, and his own term of of- fice completed-for the time being, at least-the ex-President departed for the wilds of Africa. There he spent nearly a year, shooting elephants and guides, hav- ing his picture taken, and getting his name into the American papers. When he had shot up Africa and killed everything in sight, he started for home and his postponed third term. See- ing that some of the foreign nations were considerably disturbed over certain mat- ters, he could not resist the temptation to stop for a few minutes and tell them how to run their governments. The advice was not always received as kindly as it was given, and the Colonel's dignity suf- fered not a little. When he reached home, he found that the United States was, in his opinion, on the road to ruin. After berating his form- er friend and colleague, President Taft, who had shown that actions speak louder than words, Mr. Roosevelt, with his cus- tomary unselfish foresight, offered to save the American people by accepting a third term as President. The American people, always unappreciative, have not been very eager to avail themselves of this kind offer, but the Colonel's hat is still in the ring, and in all probability will remain there until someone kicks it out. So far, the cases of Napoleon and Roose- velt are parallel: each has risen to fame, spent some time in comparative oblivion, Q ,Q if ' Q A- and then tried'to regain his glory. Napo- leon failed. Will Roosevelt? If he does not fail, he is the first man to disregard the precedent established by George Washington. If he does fail, perhaps he will spend the rest of his days, as Napo- leon did, at some modern St. Helena COyster Bay, for instancej, an exile, polit- ically, at least, from the world. On the other hand, he may still cling to his orig- inal plan of saving his erring country, and again run for the presidency. Who knows? -Charles Wratten, '12, THE HIGH SCHOOL OF MY DREAMS I was fatigued. Yes, utterly exhausted after fiercely endeavoring to see the point of an experiment on electricity. I dragged myself wearily down the squeaky stairs, and clasped and unclasped my hands nervously. That awful Physics experi- ment had made me desperate. I passed other students, who greeted me hurriedly, yet sympathetically. Their eyes were sad, and their faces lined by the trials of study. I really should have gone to Room Sev- en to write quantities of German verbs on the board. As I was about to open the door, I spied a chair standing in the hall. It had just been vacated by the teacher in charge. I dropped into it, and my weary bones rejoiced at the rest. Joan of Arc 's pale face caught my at- tention, and I gazed at her long and steadily. My head sank lower and lower, my tired eyes closed. I was asleep! Yes! asleep in the halls of learning. I dreamed of R. H. S. Not as it is at the present date. Oh, no! this dream in- stitution of learning was ideal. Refresh- ments were served at any hour on the third floor. Instead of Water ice-cold lem- onade was obtained at the fountains by the throngs of thirsty students. At this time there was no system of registration, but the students just walked out of the Assembly Room at their own free will. The teachers who had charge of the As- sembly rooms never scolded or rapped on

Page 167 text:

.idk d M he ,::s5s:u.xzmrvamssumzrasiezw-Eigamaze:-mn.ez.,a2-sz,... 'mf-1. 1. 'aw .. ref- ist!-zzrvai: 2' - .. gi ' a V., .N-ii? ff' : ' . ,,.,,. 21: f a. 5- . L 1 ' A .. , -A , T . - .i .M-T iT r ':7 . ,. ' T 1' f I Q: .,, .. 9.5 ... xi- 1- gi ' 'z 1 g ' i -42? is f if r Q 'ff-5 5,311-x if- .. w .Eel -T 1' -0 -. 0 . ' ' ' ., ' . A , .. f '. , 3 ,av -M-maaxes-me-as-nf:1au:awv.:'f:+ ae -f- La ' 5 , . .s .J If 3. f V ..-9 ' 5 'Z L . ' .V . 5 .1 xp ji' . -Mgt 3 -f F' M' ' i .fr 2- f I 3 1. 1, , E - . A N i if ' .X ' 'Ui 'fIt is only I, answered a musical voice. But who are you? Lucy persisted, growing less timid meanwhile. I am Leonore, the Queen of the Fairies, came back the answer. Lift up the cover and let me out. I am in the inkwell. Lucy, filled with excitement, and trem- bling with joy at the thought of actually seeing a fairy, nervously clutched the inkwell and opened it. Out stepped a be- witching little creature, robed in shim- mering white, her'mass of golden hair wreathed with a dainty crown of gold. She bore a scepter in her hand. Gracefully she dropped a low curtsey to little Lucy, who sat with her hands tightly clasped before her, and her eyes beaming with excitement. Again the tinkling little voice was heard. Laughing softly, she said, Come, now, Lucy, is this the kind of reception you are going to give me? There. that is better. Now. since you have all your lessons done and your theme written, let us have a pleas- ant little chat. And Leonore seated her- self comfortably on the desk before Lucy. At the mention of the theme Lucy start- ed up with a frightened look, as though recalled to life. But, oh-I had almost forgotten that I have a long theme to write for the 'Kipikawif Oh, dear-oh, dear-what shall I do? cried Lucy. You don't mean to say, Lucy, that you haVen't finished your theme! said the Queen, surprised. Why, when I saw you lounging so lazily in your seat I thought surely that you had linished your work. ' ' Well - but-I-I-was -just - think- ing what to write about-I don 't see why the teachers make us write for that old 'Kipikawi,' anyway. It is all bosh and nonsense. So therell' she said petulantly. The Queen of the Fairies seemed more than surprised at this sudden outbreak of temper, and said, '4Why, Lucy, my dear child, I never thought that I should hear such a remark from you. You, who al- ways seemed so ambitious and conscien- tious, talking in such a silly way. What is the matter, child? Matter enough! Lucy answered. Here it is, such a beautiful, warm day, and I have to stay in this miserable school- room and write a theme. I just despise school- I do, and I wish that I was out to Grandma 's this very minute, oh, I do- I do ' The queen's surprise turned to anger upon seeing Lucy in this mood. She said: Well, my dear, I see that you are in no mood for a chat today, and besides that theme must be written before the period is over. It must!-it must!!-it must! ! ! With this she stamped her tiny foot on the desk and dropped her scepter with- a decided force. When Lucy recovered from her sur- prise and fear she turned to speak to Leo- nore again. Well- But where was the queen and where was the tiny scepter? They had disappeared, and Lucy rubbed her eyes sleepily as she looked about her. What was her surprise to see, bending over her, her teacher, with an amused smile on her face. Why, Lucy, the teacher exclaimed, you surely werenyt sleeping? f'Oh, no,,' answered Lucy, but that fairy Was awfully angry. Well, laughed the teacher, you have been in Fairyland, then, and passed on. Lucy looked at the clock-only fifteen minutes to get that theme! Oh, I know what I shall write about! I do! I do! I'll write about Leonore. And she did. 'K' IK 111 SF W if W The teacher read Lucyis theme that day with a pleased look on her face. That little girl, really, has a great imagination. ' ' -Ella Evans, '13. Speedy Cphoning from farmhouse to garagejz I guess you will have to come and get me. I've turned turtle. -Exchange, Judge