Schuylerville Central School - Schuyler Yearbook (Schuylerville, NY)

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CLASS PROPHECY By a most fortunate twist of fate. I one day chanced to meet a most accom- plished medium, who had positive control over the revelations of future happen- ings. Seating myself comfortably with a pencil and several sheets of paper, for 1 knew the magnitude of my task, I set out diligently to copy with the utmost care the events as they were revealed to me in the crystal. I perceived immediately the crystal ball turning round and round. The spiritualist advised me to watch closely. I did, and what should come before my eyes but just what I was looking for, a resume of the future of my dear classmates of S. H. S. I was not surprised at the portrayal of the future of Tommy Walsh. He was revealed to me as a football coach of the University of Southern California. Marion Beaulac had achieved considerable repute in the business world as a stenographer. Kathryn Reed likewise was a stenographer of no mean ability. James Farrell, I was told, had at last become the owner of a large bake shop. I recalled at once his experience in the work during his high school days. Ernie Greenwood was the owner of a growing meat market. I remembered that he was eminently qualified for that occupation. In his high school days he had begun his career in Campbell’s meat market. Elsie VanDerwerker had achieved distinction in the realm of teaching. George Ellis, one of the deep thinkers of the school, was, naturally enough, a noted scientist and one of America’s most careful chemists. Fred Carlson was doing remarkable work in the field of electrical engineering. Fritz Varney, always a would-be sheik, had tried for some time to crash the movies, but always with the same result, failure. Eleanor Phillips had entered upon the career of a housewife, which had thus far proven successful. William Esmond had developed into a powerful professor. His teaching was forceful, convincing, and altogether straight-forward. Homer VanDerwerker. who was still the hard worker of former years, had achieved success as a cartoonist. Olive Jones was now realizing a life-long ambition as a basketball coach. Leon Fremont was the chief bookkeeper of one of the great chain stores of the country. The crystal ball divulged that Lawrence Venn was, at that time, a well known dentist. Minnie Nulty was in her element, teaching commercial subjects in the new and bigger S. H. S. Virginia Deyoe was doing a wonderful work as a school teacher in the rural districts. Marion Pratt, aside from being a housewife, taught a large group of children their A B C’s. Luella Brown was doing a splendid piece of work as a commercial teacher. Nellie Wilcox was revealed to me as a Physical Education teacher, being an excellent one at that. Donald McCarty, the crystal stated, was then a powerful and expressive lawyer. Having seen this, I had seen all. and bidding the kindly spiritualist adieu. I came hack to the present day again. Olive Jones, ’31. Thirteen

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WASHINGTON TRIP On Friday afternoon, April 3rd, a small group began to gather in front of the school at about 3:30. Of course you don’t have to be told—it was the seniors about to start on their Washington tour. By 4 o'clock goodbyes were said, pupils and luggage crowded into cars, and we were off for Saratoga. There was a small delay in Saratoga, but when the train did arrive, again goodbyes were said to parents and friends who had accompanied us this far on our journey. In Albany we boarded the sleeper and it seemed that then, and only then, did we really start on our Great Adventure. Sleeping on the cars was rather a novelty to most of us and there wasn’t much sleeping enjoyed. All night long one could hear giggles or voices calling from one end of the car to the other. Our first sight of Washington was rather depressing. It was about 7 o’clock in the morning and a low fog or mist seemed to be settling over the city. But it took more than that to dampen our spirits. While we were there we visited some beautiful places and gazed on impressive sights, such as the Congressional Library at night, the National Museum, the Smithsonian Institution, Bureau of Printing and Engraving, Pan-American Build- ing. Annapolis and the Naval Academy, the Monastery, Mt. Vernon, the Wash- ington Monument, the Lincoln Memorial, the Capitol and the White House. But don’t think that we went around the city viewing everything with awe- stricken manner. We had our own good times. I don't think anyone will ever forget Mr. Schultz being taken for one of the boys and ordered out of the girls’ room, or the difficulty of trying to eat ice cream with nail files and paper drinking cups. Some of the boys bad difficulty finding their pajamas, but they were finally located under the davenport covers. Fred Carlson knows the difficulty of trying to sleep on a bed covered with cracker crumbs. On our way to New York we stopped in Philadelphia and made a tour of that city in buses, stopping only at Independence 11 all to see the Liberty Bell. Roxy’s in New York is nice and provided good entertainment, but it was not enough to keep a group of seniors awake after being up most of the night before and traveling all day. The seniors agree unanimously that this trip is well worth working for and wish to take this opportunity to thank all those who in any way made it possible. Marion Beaulac, ’31. T wclve

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THE CHARM SCHOOL Here is a typical night of rehearsing for the play. Mrs. Spencer is waiting impatiently for the members of the cast to arrive. One by one they finally walk in, in no hurry whatever. Soon we start rehearsing and we hear such commands as these from the director: “Speak more loudly and distinctly; get placed, do not wander around so much; put more expression on your faces; put more motion in your parts.’’ And then we are told to go through that last scene just once more. It is always just once more, hut in reality it usually becomes many times more. “What is all that noise?” Mrs. Spencer asks. Oh. it’s only the rest of the cast enjoying themselves while we labor through our parts,” comes the answer. We always had the satisfaction that their turn would come next, and thus it went on every night. The night of the play has arrived. Every one has come much too early, and quite excited. Their big night has come. Everyone looks in the mirror for perhaps the hundredth time to sec if his hair is combed just right. Mrs. Spencer is putting the finishing touches on us. Two of us have moustaches fixed on. We do not dare smile for fear the skin will crack. We are ready to begin at last. The lights in the hall are dimmed, the curtain is pulled. We have a moment of stage fright as we look out into a sea of glaring eyes. We go through our parts as if in a dream. The play is finally finished and we are congratulated. Soon the whole thing is past history and forgotten. Frederick Carlson, ’31. TO THE SENIORS OF S. H. S. When you have some extra ambition, You don’t know how to use; Just tackle a chapter of Caesar, And find out all the news; ’Bout Ca:sar and all his Gallic Wars, About Ciesar in Brittany, About Orgetorix and all his woes, And about Caesar’s war with Bellovaci. Of course you may get stuck a bit, But don’t worry about that at all; Just pass right on up to the next, And let the hard one go. So, seniors, when you are old. so old, That you don’t know what to do. Just brush your memory with Ca sar a bit. And make believe that that was you. Grace Russell, ’33. Fourteen