Rawlins High School - Roundup Yearbook (Rawlins, WY)

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Who has wit that laughs in secret. Quiet, quick and inward humor, That can see odd situations Yet not make her laughter boistrous, Wit that has no painful sting in it? Such a wit has Frances Olson More than any other member Of the Class of 1920. Of the maidens most particular, Nice, exact, of fine distinction. Always first named is Hope Edwards. Fussiest, most exact and careful. Always we acclaim Hope Edwards. In our class there’s some one noisy. Though who is, we are not certain, Marion is not, neither Eva, Frances Olson’s always quiet; Hope and Ruby, Macey, Andrew, Never make a noisy movement. Emily, Grace and Frances Phelan Scarcely ever cause commotion. Who then in our class is noisy? If by strict elimination All these mentioned are discarded- There remains but one uncounted; Kathleen surely must be noisy. In each class there is one person Who devotes to peaceful slumber Parts of every daily period; In Assembly or in class room Some one always is who sleeps most. There are numbers of Juniors Mentioned for this place of honor; Final judgment names Grace Bartnick. Lest you think that all the Juniors Of the weaker sex are members, Now we hasten to inform you That the Class of 1920 Counts one boy among its number, Counts him also its most popular. Popular and honored treasurer. Andrew Peterson his name is. Thus the Class of 1920, Honor gives to all its members, Thus aloud hath now acclaimed them, All the individual Juniors, Each according to his merits. —Sincere Apologies to Longfellow. i

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1920-Atlja Honor be to all the Juniors, Cry the class of 1920 Of our class we make elections, Those who hold the highest honors Thus aloud we now acclaim them, All the individual Juniors, Each according to his merits. She who talks the most is Frances, Frances Phelan, loved class leader; In the. morning chatters Frances, In the evening murmurs Frances. And at midnight still is talking; Eve in sleep she moans and mutters. Macey Lackey is so silent That no other sound anear her Can be heard from her morn to evening Save the silence of our Macey. And so tiny Emily Mueller That in class one scarce can see her, When she stands out in the hallway And the doors are closed between us. She who labors? Ruby Carlson. Thinks and plans and toils and labors, How to work out new excuses For not having read her lessons. If one twentieth part expended Were those labors on her lessons. Ruby could achieve them easily, Rows of nineties on report cards. Marion Johnson never labors. In her mind there is a factory Out of which without her efforts Pour forth words and themes and answers. Figures, briefs and apt quotations, All correct, exact and perfect. Oh, no!—Marion never labors. Who among us knows the secret Of the glance that asks an answer, So demurely asks an answer, Through the lashes downward drooping; Of the smile that hearts can soften Smile that summons smiling answer, Promises, attracts, allures one? Glance coquettish, smile flirtation? Oh, with one accord we answer, Eva knows such smiles and glances, Knows and scruples not to use them.

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iJftatnrij of tljr QUaoa of 1920 I spent a wretched night last night. In the evening I attended a dinner given by the Domestic Science girls—that I might state was the cause of all my troubles. Of course I do not wish to cast any insinuations on the dinner, I merely state that as that was the last time I had partaken of food all evidence points that way. It was shortly before—or after midnight when I tucked myself fondly in bed, and it was between then and morning that all my troubles began and ended. Nightmares? Well I rather guess SO. After dispelling the ghosts and other wierd figures surrounding my bed by casting a slipper into their midst I thought my troubles were ended, but peace that night was not my lot in life. A voice suddenly ordered me to be ready to go to the poor farm in five minutes. “Well, I tho’t, since when have I become so poor that I needs must adjourn to the poor farm?” but as the voice again boomed out the order I hastily dressed and looking into the mirror I was no l.ttle shocked and alarmed to find that my “golden hair was turning to silver grey.” Yes, there were most assuredly very grave signs of grey hair around my temples. Looking at the calendar I was still more amazed to find that it read —“June 30, 1940. ’ The voice was right there to explain things however, “Your case has been the most perfect example of Rip Van Winkle, that any one has heard of. You have been asleep since the night the class of ’20 graduated, and I have just been able to awaken you. I turned and saw a very learned looking man whom I took to be a Doctor. He was short and rather stout, he had a goatee upon his chin and an eyebrow upon his lip, and spectacles on his nose; but behind all this camouflage I recognized Andrew Peterson. Putting on a coat and hat I followed this person outside and climbed into an awaiting aeroplane. We soon arrived at Dixon, and as I turned the corner in one of the halls I collided violently with one of the inmates. This person spoke very scverlv and in unthinkable terms as we picked ourselves up, but when we saw each other’s face we embraced one another fondly and with a tear in our e e. “My dear Ma:ey,’’ I explained—for this was none other than Macev Lackey—“how did you get here?” “Well, it was this way: Mv great grand uncle left me a fortune you know. Well the villian beat me out of all of it. Ah—“dreamily’’—he sure was eood looking- and so very clever, so very, very clever.’’ “Yes’’—I was all svmpathy—“he must have been clever. But say that was sure menn of him, wasn’t it?” Fere Dr. Andrew inferrupted and we again climbed into our plane. l eaving this institution we flew for New York—a matter of a few minutes—and I boarded a steamer for Europe. Th rst thing I noticed on mv arrival in Enqrland was a field for the training of persons in the art of aviation. I applied for entrance and after two weeks training I bought mv plane and prepared for a trip across Europe. There was one thing that interested me. and that was the fact that Marion Johnson was the instructor at that field. T flew to Paris, and when I landed I was accosted by the officer of the law who escorted me to the court just because I had no license on