Racine High School - Kipikawi Yearbook (Racine, WI)

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gig r . , O . . . ,Y . . . . Q1 4 x5viile2v,mff:.ffv.1-v1g'1'. A .,f', MV. wmeatsszafxa-f ff: V-fs f 5 .ggi .-..v', 1-i s-'Veg-r'1:::w-mlb : rm:'f5?,w1wz!rffaw -fff ... :. - .. ., .f 1. K W E111 -f A 5 '45 . . as ty . , Ie we- s Q . .1 pg 4 V .., - ..:.V N-.- .it Li-.,' ,.M i,H 5,3 QSM! , ,fe .4 - V ' V H '- ' ' ' ' ' .3 'ai ',. r , 5' 4 V A-h3'ff.:?f-f:,f5 3 VVe reached the grade they call the eighth The students were astounded, Our plans were all pipe dreams. Our youthful poet prophesied That we should famous be, And that the tale of our great deeds Should travel o'er the sea. But lackaday! when to the High As Freshmen we did go, We found that now the time had come For us to taste of woe. Of how we struggled bravely on With microscope and cell, With Latin nouns and German verbs, I shall not stop to tell. But all the time we tried our best To keep from being failed, For when we fiunked our parents knew- For the notices were mailed. But Father Time soon made of us Grave Seniors dignified, And then was when we all did feel So full of righteous pride. We'd blossomed forth in our own minds To students wondrous wise. With anyone below our class We could not sympathize. And now that we have all become Alumni of the High, We often think of those good days And can 't suppress a sigh. So let me say before I close, This book, your Annual, Is certainly worth much more to you, Than I could ever tell. -Lucile Shaw, '09, A MARVELOUS ANIMAL 4'What animal is greatest? The teacher put the quiz. 'tThe elephant? the tiger? Or bear? No, no! it is A little guinea pig! For the reason each did try. Then some one put the question, 4'VVill you kindly tell us why A little guinea pig? I thought you read the papers! She was vexed, we all could see, If I just recall the story You'll quite agree with me, A little guinea pig. il ll When that New York fire insurance Building burned down to the ground, Two weeks later, yet still living, In the ashes some one found A little guinea pig. The question now is settled, VVe no longer hesitate, If you made that curious query We'd immediately state A little guinea pig! --Helen Sawyer, '10, The Kodak. MASTER AND MAN The Captain stood where a Captain should, For the law of the Sea is grim, The Owner romped ere his ship was swamped And no Law bothered him. The Captain stood where the Captain should, When a Captain's boat goes down, But the Owner led when the women fled, For an Owner must not drown. The Captain sank as a man of Rank, While his Owner turned away, The Captain's grave was his bridge and, brave, He earned his seaman's pay. To hold your place in the ghastly face Of Death on the Sea at Night, Is a Seaman 's job, but to flee with the mob Is an OWner's noble Right. -B. Hecht, '10, in Chicago Journal.

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1 . . v m 1 QL- h ,, 1 . 1 A ASihi .... A 1.1. ',-w . .. .'-, i I l,k, 56 ,,,,.4- ff W .,Q.. .. nv. Q Hagel? . . ladies Hlltl gentlemen. Or perhaps all has become strangely reversed-coats, collars, dresses, ties, all are worn just the wrong way, niaking a very funny H,SS0l11lJl?1Q'8. These are just a few of tl1e sce11es e11acted i11 the cl1apel roo1n. O1'1l1Sbj' and Brokaw Halls I11l1St not be forgotten, for it is there we live. It is just after supper at Orinsby, the girls are f.!'Htllt'l'lI1,Q' in the parlors as they come up dining-room, to sing, play, and from tl1e talk. But stern Duty calls so111e to their roonls. Let us go upstairs with theni. There on o11e door is the regular busy sign fthe blue cardj, but also a white background extra to set it off, and above it another sign over a foot square with large black letters BUSY.', We had better pass by. Just about two hours later we COIIIG past again. The size of that busy Sigll 111ust have inspired SOIIIB one to nlischief. The whole door is cov- ered with s111all placards, HDanger,', Measles, 4'Look Out for the Cars, Industry, etc., and before it stands a ful LOOK DUT ' Fon u A355 ltuu- lll wi I Wu nu! Xllwlll-1-1111! . nh' XX! g O B . 11s i T Xl' f. . ll, 1 . 2 'Nll'1!'2 ' ff--el - .ar y W , 1 A huge waste-paper basket illlll several LlllSiZI'l2l11S around it. The girls i11 the next roo111 1llllSt be pre- paring for a final reckoning of so111e sort S0011 to co111e. There are four of fl10ll1 011 the bed, half buried in books, notebooks, and papers. One l1tlS a wet towel around her head to keep tl1e Sandman away and help l1er tl1i11k. Here COIIIQS a proctorg let us follow and see who squelched. She raps 011 the door of tl1e P00111 fI'0Ill which so inuch noise has been lSSlli1lgl'. Ilow queer tl1at when the door is opened we see only 0110 girl there cal111ly stirring the fudge in the chafing-dish! But strange S0lll1dS from the region of the closet Hllii from under the bed soon solve the mystery. Such is life at Ormsby-and that at Brokaw is very si111ilar. Sweet are tl1e days we spend here, Strong are the ties we form, Friendships that last forever, And help us through sunshine fllltl stor111. Dear is the well-known river, And loved are tl1e vine-clad walls, Mingled our pleasures Hlld labors In the picture each l10tlI't recalls. -Julia Frederiekson, '08. THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT GRADUATE. VVe first were babies i11 1l10tll0I',S ar111s, Our life was ignorant bliss, We cried, we cooed, we fussed, we smashed, XVe did Illlt grudge a kiss. Then from the age of four to six, VVe played our life away, VVith QQHIIISS of ball and tag and skip NVe filled our busy day. . Vilhen school in proper did lleglll VVe thought it quite tl1e thing To learn to read Hllll write and spellg We then felt glad to si11g. S0 up we climbed until, at last, CHow short the ti111e now seenislj

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.SJW Xxgljffi i V, , I A..1, .-L-, , , , .,., . TQ. ,4--L J A A ,L,, . 1 . ..X. 1 '-ftbmzwig U Miss Hope Reynolds to her former school mate, Miss Gladys Tucker. Fairmont School, March twenty fifth. Gladys Dearest,- The blow has fallen at last! Mother has always deplored my ignorance of how the other half lives, and she's tired of it now it seems. Ergo-I go to a settlement in New York for the Spring Holidays, while she goes to Bermuda to recuperate from her last suffrage tour. Poor thing, I don 't begrudge her the rest-Ashe must surely need it. But ye suffering saints, what will become of me? Do you really know what a settlement is, or where Henry Street is located, or what one does when one gets there? I don't. Is it children one cares for? Will I have to wash their hands and faces: and oh, will I have to hold the babies? I'm frightened to death of them and they'll all have colds I know. Maybe I'll catch one and die of pneumonia-Mother would be sorry then for I'm the only one to carry on her career. Just imagine me lec- turing, if you can! But more to the point, picture me on Henry Street and write often for 'tis a tearful figure you gaze upon. My love to the girls. Ever your devoted, Hope. P. S. I was going on Mary Grace's house- party to meet that fascinating roommate of her brother's we've all heard of so often. But in the interest of the cause one foregoes much. Only what is the cause in this case? Mother! H. R. On The Train, March 30. Glad dear,- I really must get it out of my system and you always were an obliging duck. It in this instance is Miss Virginia Van Vleet. That alliteration alone tells the tale but oh, how I wish you could see her! Clothed in pale tan, flowing veil, and white plumes, and carrying a gold chate- laine studded with jewels, sheyd be a splendid write-up for the Ladies' Home Journal's Good and Bad Tastel' page. Her conversation is even more fas- cinating than her sweet personality. She thinks she knows Aunt Elizabeth, I imag- ine: or at least she thinks that I think she does. I've never heard of her. For two steady hours the dear thing has been spin- ning yarns of Coronada and Palm Beach, House Parties in the Adirondacks, and motor trips through the Berkshires-so- ciety with a capital 'S has been revealed to my school ears, or so she firmly believes. Of course I don't know Coronada, but Pal1n'Beach never saw the sights Virginia saw at Palm Beach. That I do know. I haven't dared tell her Where I'm go- ing for I feel sure Auntie's reputation would be quite ruined. Miss Van Vleet never could understand about settlements. She's been right good fun though and for quite some time I forgot the dances, and luncheons, and late breakfasts that I'm going to miss. But just going down to the station in the school 'bus, with the girls all singing I did feel sort of home- sick and envious. The green didn't match my blue hat so I had to stop. Even as I must now. Dear Virginia has finished her story so perhaps her imagination will en- tertain me further. Don't forget to write. Hastily, Hope. 2 Henry Street, New York City, The Night of my Arrival. Dearest Gladys,- ' I can't sleep so I'll scribble off my first impressions. First, I shall 'have to confess it doesnlt seem nearly so bad as I antici- pated. Getting here, though, was one long nightmare. Mother wrote me not to take a cab but the street car, and she told me what one. Then I lost the letter: or maybe packed it in my trunk. Anyhow it didn't do me one bit of good except to remind me that a taxi was forbidden. So after question-