Santa Rosa High School - Echo Yearbook (Santa Rosa, CA)

Page 26 text:

THE ECHO. CLASS PROPHECY E had been praying to every divinity of earth and sky for help on that prop- hecy, but to no avail. But on the night of May, the 18th, when the earth pass- ed through the tail of Halley’s comet, we were overcome by the gases. Immediately we seemed to be in a far country; from all we had read, we knew it must be fair Italy. Coming along the dusty road was an organ-grinder, and when he saw us he struck up a gay tune. Stopping before us, he took off his hat and gave it to the monkey to pass for the coins; and we saw to our astonishment, Ralph, the once dignified and wily president of the June ‘to class. He said he had started out to see Europe again, but his funds gave out and he had taken up this high calling. We wished him success and, giving the monkey a nickle, passed on. It was grand opera season in Rome, so we secured tickets for “Carmen.” When the curtain arose, the singer, a beautiful woman in dazzling evening dress, stepped forth amid thunderous applause. She open- ed her lips and the clear notes filled the great building. We could hardly believe our eyes for there was Mary, the quiet little Mary of June ro. Before we left Rome another pleasant surprise was ours. We saw Beulah Lock- wood and Nellie Lonergan interpreting Beethcven’s “Moonlight Sonata” in most exquisite classical dancing, which brought to our minds the classic dancing we had seen in the girls’ basement of the old High, morning, noon and night, for four years. One evening, taking a gondola ride in Q Da Venice, we passed closely by another gon- dola, carrying a charming young lady and a gentleman, distinguished by the regularity of his features. He was leaning over the lady, and gazing into her face, speaking in tones charged with feeling. Gazing closer at the lover we recognized Wilfred Luce. t+ | At a railroad station in Germany, we met a fat, jolly-looking policeman. Approaching him, to question about railroad schedules, we recognized by the dimple in his chin, Frank McArthur. Passing along the beautiful streets of Paris, we met a bevy of convent girls, with a nun, coming from a famous Catholic school for girls. Her face was sad. and we overheard two ladies, walking ahead of us, say: “Isn’t it too bad about the young nun we just passed; you know he never came back.” We knew in an instant it must be Jean. and that her handsome young lover, who had sailed away to Japan, had never returned, and she was trying to drown her sorrow here. While resting in a park we read the fol- iowing item in a paper: “Mademoiselle faltie Lewis is now in her new hair-dress- ing parlor prenared to dress the latest Par- isian coiffures.” We were just about to lay the paper aside when a name caused us to snatch it up again. We read: “Perry Litton, young and handsome, angelic disposition, wants a wife. She must be witty and comely. Same apply at Box 23.” We knew by the de- scription that this must be our old class- inate. Crowds were thronging to and fro in a ereat cirucs tent, but the crowd gave way as an old maid fought her way to the ropes, so she could get her darling yellow cat to the air, lest it would suffocate. We were surprised to find Alice Letold, but she was too concerned about her cat to discuss old Iigh School times.

Page 25 text:

THE ECHO. LS Gould, for 1 know that she will miss my valuable assistance in that subject. My failing for the fair sex | bestow upon Ben Drake. [, Kenneth Bryant, leave my art of queen- ing to Guy Grosse, that he may be as popu- lar with the fair sex as I was. My abun- dant supply of hot socks I graciously will {9 Raford Leggett to add to his alread: large supply. I, Edna Crane, will my peaches and cream complexion to Allison Dickson, and my meek and gentle ways to Rosaline Boido. My well-worn, old bicycle I wil! to Miss Leddy, as she has so far to walk. I, Haltie Lewis, on this last and serious occasion, do will to Luella Sibbala my fa- vorite jeweled back comb, in hopes that she will appreciate my eenerosity. My scolloped collar I leave to Mr. Vivian as it is low and very comiortable. [, Gertrude Cnopius, do will and bequeath iny long, white sweater to cmily Reud, my dimples to Kintey Ahl and my art for stick- ing on my fiery steed, I leave to Weston Anderson. 1, Rohert Lockhart, bestow upon Walton Hasting my beautiful head of curly hair, which I think will add greatly to his appear- ance; tiny brown suit of clothes I leave to Chester Case, hoping that he will be as careful of it as [ have been. I, Jack Sibbald, do impart to Madeline Cowan my good opinion of myself, and m) case on Kathleen Miller I leave to William Morrow, hoping that he will call as often as [ did. sweater shall go to Fred Holmes. My last request is that my white I, Maud Hinds, knowing that my days are numbered, do solemnly confer upon Ly- mon Hehir my fondness for studying; my hook-strap I leave to Dorothy Steele in or- der that she may more conveniently carry home her books. The wads of gum under the lid of my desk I bestow upon Leo Noo- nan so that he may have something to do during study periods. I, Lulu Helman, leave to Erba Peugh my blond rat, knowing that she is in need of it. My fondness for laughing in the study hall I leave to Grace Dougherty, and my skill in hair-dressing | fondly bestow upon Nina Doyle. I, Victor McDaniels, leave my track suit to Mervin Forsyth, knowing that he is highly interested in athletics. My becom- ing “pomp” I leave to Edna Pierce as my most highly-prized treasure, which she must keep to remember me. I, Marie Farnlof, will to Mary Mathews, my frivilous way, which I hope will not cause as much trouble as it did me. My terrible habit of cutting I leave to Lena Jaun, that she may succeed as well as i did in not being caught. I, Ethel Purrington, leave my spectacles to Roy Kuvkendall, that they may increase nis aspect of profound wisdom. My pug nose must go to Vernon Ross to giv him that fetchingly saucy appearance, while my red skirt I leave to Gladvs Carithers, as know she is sadly in need of it. I, Beulah Lockwood, will my shrill giggle to Esther Scott, which must not bother the teachers in the study hall. My faithful, old steed that I always drive to school I leave to {he one most deserving. I, Constance Mader, bequeath my unsur- passable record of tardiness to the school. Please frame and hang it by Mr. Searcy’s 1 desk so that he wil! be more lenient with those who are not so proficient in this line. My tall, slim stature is to be left for Ada Smith. [, Howard Brush, wish to impart to Rae- gan Talbot my rosy cheeks; to Mr. Searcy | leave my rubber heels, and to Howard Gilkie must be given my brown kid gloves, hoping that these last gifts will be duly ap- preciated. We desire that the above be duly execut- ed, and as executor of this, our last will and testament, we appoint Mr. Sarcy, knowing that he will promptly attend to every detail. (Signed) Class of June, 1910. Vitnesses: Mr. Vivian and Miss McDermott.

Page 27 text:

THE ECHO. es oe eee We left the circus, and walking along, we were followed by a tall, attenuated per- son, who kept up the cry, “Won’t you buy a pencil, a pencil?” We turned to give him a glassy stare and recognized Kenneth Bry- 5 ) ait. We heard a newsboy shouting, “Extra! Extra! All about the greatest writer and her latest book!” We purchased one and read that Ruth Elmore’s book, “The Court- ship of Puss in Boots,” was a howling suc- cess, In England we met a bridal party coming down the steps of a great cathedral. We immediately recognized the happy benedic. and ran up to congratulate Clyde Hudson and his blushing bride, the little Freshie who had sat across the aisle. We heard that Marian Pierson had made her debut into English society and had mar- ried a real lord. “Cupid” Weeks had taken an important part in politics and had been sent as Ambas- sador from the United States to England. In his frock coat and silk hat we hardly recog- nized him. In the Scottish Highlands we saw Robert Lockhart dressed in “Icilts’ and doing the Highland fling. The kilts were extremely becoming ard he was energy itself in the fling. In a large art institute among hundreds of students we met Ethel Purrington. She was working on her masterpiece, “The School Spirit.” Then we were carried to the euest room of the Imperial Palace of Japan. We were granted an audience, and while in the pres- cence of the M .ado, a Japanese waiter en- he tered bearing a steaming bowl, which placed before his majesty. Then prostrat ing himself, he bumped his head on the floor three times and we recognized Jack, who was now chiet chop-stick bearer to his ma- jesty, the Mikado of Japan. We hailed a jinrikisha one hot day and the runner, to our surprise, proved to be John Rued, noted for his strength and fast running, Then we were boarding a steamer bound for the American continent, and had just come on deck, when a boy came down the dock singing, “Shine! Shine! Get your shoes shined!” And there we saw Don. He told us there were twa other class-mates on board, and led the way to the galley. Here we found Scott Webb, a typical tar, with that innocent expression which belongs to cherubs. We were delighted to find these two class-mates and asked who the other one was. “Why, Victor McDaniels: haven't you heard of him?” they said. “He’s the one who makes that fine soup—one bucket of water and one onion.” And we knew he ws the chef on the ship. Then we were transported again and found ourselves in Canada, following a great procession of women, wi th banners flying. They proceeded to a hall, where me ascended the platform and made a stir- ring address on politics. Inquiring who the speaker was, we found it was Hazel Gra- tam of the old June class Under a large oak tree we found a school ma'rm surrounded by about fifty freckled- faced urchins. They were having a picnic and as they were spreading out their luncli we heard the old familiar remark: “O just see how much we've got to eat.” And we knew immediately it was Constance Mader. At Newport we found Elsie Rickarc dashing society belle, who had taken the citv by storm, After leaving Tigh, Kathryn 1ad taken up singing, and we learned that she now hada steady job singing “My Bon- nie Lies Over the Ocean—Dead Drunk.” ior phonographic records. Then we were in a crowd of uniforms and we knew it must be West Point. Here we found Florence Pool with 2 string of cadets at her heels. We met a gentleman in New York hurry- ng along like a cyclone. After he passed, he came back to speak to us. It was an old class-mate, Joe Lombardi. He had a book- printing establishment, where he printed Latin ponies. After a few words he hurried