Salem High School - Quaker Yearbook (Salem, OH)

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Russell McGaffie—The modern “Wamba.” Vera Mellinger—With a look guaranteed to kill anything in sight (if “anything” be masculine). Mary Menning—If she'd ever sing as she speaks, she'd outdo Schuman-Heink. Irene Miller—“I've done my duty, and I’ve done no more,” John Moffit—A barren-spirited fellow. Dorothy Moore—Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn. Vernetta Moores—How sweet and gra- cious even in common speech. Albert Mullett—Has completed, but not realized, an air castle begun at 8:45 A. M. Ursula Mullins—With hair of slightly tarnished gold, and a heart that's neither sad nor cold. George Murphy—He knows enough. Elizabeth Murvai—“Mirth, with thee I mean to live.” Orein Naragon—Here again, there again, gone again, Naragon. Winifred Ormes-—If 100's were rain- storms, she surely would be wet. Josephine Pasco—With just enough of learning to mis-quote. Doris Parsons—Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair. Floyd Parsons-—How long! Oh, how long! Edwin Probert—On life's vast ocean, diversely we sail. Elizabeth Reese—Nothing lovelier can be found in woman, than to study household good. Ethel Reno—Or light, or dark, or short, or tall, she sets a spring to snare them all, Kenneth Russell—“All's well that ends well.” Doi’a Segall—Knowledge is proud that he has learned so much, wisdom is humble that he knows no more. Michael Schuller—His highest ambition is to argue with St. Peter. Catherine Shaffer, “Wasn't it?” Ethel Shears—Her modest looks the cot- tage might adorn. Elizabeth Shope—Grace and virtue are within. Cecilia Shriver—She is gentle and modest, retiring and good. She always acts as a lady should. William Siferd—“We call Bill Sneeze for when he's around there's always a breeze.” Francis Simonds—We wonder if he's going to become a professor of English. Kenneth Slocum—“Hath Britain all the sun that shines?” Faye Slutz—How far that little candle throws its beams! Alden Smith—His pastime is work. (?) Elizabeth Speidel—Sweetly demure, and demurely sweet, Frances Speidel—She vamped and vamp- ed and—“oh! it wTas pathetic,” Raymond Spiker—“I and my bosom must debate a while,” Helen F. Stewart—All rests with those who read. Margaret Stewart—Credits, not men, are her aims! Deborah Stratton—Happiness was born a twin. Herman Stratton—A farmer traveling with his load, Katherine Stratton— She flirts, flirted, has flirted, and will flirt until—! ?! Olive Stratton—“Whispering.” Russell Stratton—The hidden powers of this man are hard to comprehend. Ruth Sweeney—A man hater, absolutely! Haidie Talbot—‘ Children should be seen, not heard.” Donald Thompson—“But you, gods, will give us some faults to make us men,” Charles Vaughn—“I don't believe it's that way.” George Vollmer—Archbishop of Cran- berry. Consuelo Walker—Your gentleness shall force more than your force move us to gen- tleness. Paul Walton—“Deacon” knows every- body's troubles but his own. Edith Ward—The gravity and stillness of your youth. page twenty-three

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Naomi Derr—Be silent always when you doubt the sense, and speak, though sure, with seeming diffidence. Wallace Dole—Things without remedy should be without regard, Leland Duncan—When a fellow needs a friend, Toady's there. Eric Eastman—Son of a preacher, but full of the devil! Donald Elton—A rolling stone gathers no moss. Leone Farmer—And she talked. Oh, how she talked! Mary Louise Fawcett—“One thing is for- ever good; that one thing is success.” James Ferguson—A record breaker in tardiness. Matilda Fernengel—Maiden with meek brown eyes, in whose orbes a shadow lies. Dorothy Feree—Act well your part; there all the honor lies. Bertha Fink—“Our aim is happiness.” Helen Flick—“ 'Tis nobleness to serve,” Ethel Flukiger—Some dreams we have are nothing else but dreams. Charles Frantz—Enjoys staying in 204 after 3:30 (?) Edna French—Changeable but adorable! George Fronk—I’ll say he has the gift of gab.” Arlan Fultz—“Man wants but little here below,” Augusta Gabler—Slow, slower, slowest. Nerr Gaunt—“How far your eyes may pierce, I cannot tell.” Margaret Getz—Content thyself to be ob- scurely good. Neil Grisez—Though modest, on his un- embarrassed brow nature had written— Gentleman. Julia Groves—Laughter, holding both his sides. Ralph Hannay—The human butterfly! Paul Harrington—“Freckles.” Harold Harris—Really, the man won't let us know that he's alive. Emmett Harroff—He bears himself like a gentleman. Harold Harsh—“How's come?” Edward Heplar—Silence is commendable. Ralph Hickey—“I have done some ser- vice.” Eugene Hill—And, still they looked, and still their wonder grew, that one small head could carry all he knew. Forest Hill—He was a scholar, and a right good one. Wilid Holloway—“Work is my recrea- tion.” Esther Hoopes—A noble type of good heroic womanhood. Anna Hoprich—How natural is joy. Harold Hutcheson—Zeal and duty are not slow, Ruth Isensee—Linked sweetness, long drawn out. Julius Jeffries—“S'posin'.” Kenneth Jones—“Now from head to foot, I am marble, constant,” Edward Judge—To be strong is to be happy. Helen Judge—By the time she enlarges her vocabulary, she’ll talk more slowly, to to insure correct choice. John Kaley—But still his tongue ran on. Kenneth Kelley—When there's foolish- ness anywhere, you'll find a Freshman, named Kelley, there. Winifred Kempton—“Brevity is the soul of wit.” Ruth Kirby—Her looks do argue her re- plete with modesty. Elizabeth Kirk—Her ways are ways of pleasantness. George Konnert—Friends I have made. Russell Kuhl—If he were as wise as he looks, he would outdo the proverbial owl. Margaret Landenberger—“I count myself in nothing else so happy, as in soul, remem- bering my good friends.” Lucile Lippert—Neither man nor angles can discern. Richard Manzilla—A jolly good fellow called “Gizeh.” Thomas Martin—“Hel-p.” Yes, he usu- ally need's it. Alexander McLaughlin—“Pm not pre- pared,” pope twentp-tivo

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Ethel Weingart—“Oh, girls, you can't guess whom I have a date with tonight ' Lee Weingart—“Man is dust Dust set- tles down. Be a man ' Aleene Whinery—Very bashful when it comes to reciting. Lowell Whinnery—Happy the man whose wish and care a few paternal acres bound. Wilbur Whitcomb—Likes to talk of his beloved Lizzie. Margaret Woodruff—“Buss” likes her nickname, we wonder why—she bobbed her hair ? I Arthur Yengling—“Pude” will never be a carpenter, because he throws the hammer more than 100 feet. Ross Yengling—And leaning back, he yawned, and fell asleep. Fred Yoder—Red hair seems to attract girls. Go to it, Fred! Milan Zatko—What brains thou hast not, are not worth having. page twenty- four