Selah High School - Fruitspur Yearbook (Selah, WA)

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twenty THE FRUIT SPUR Class. I see. You are a chip from the old block all right, Clifford, and I am going to do to you what Mr. Pfeifer used to do to your father. l'1l give you poetry, 100 lines. Next time l'll make it l,000. A boy, a tall blonde youngster, with blue eyes and a wicked grin, leaves the room and goes down the hall. Someone closes the office door. Oh, now I understand. That voice-of course-it's jean's! For on the door are the words, Principal-- Miss Scutt. lt is rumored that after Mr. Pfeifer, due to the awful strain, was re- moved to Steilacoom, jean nobly offered her services. Poor jean! They say she will be the next to go. Too bad! That vista slowly fades, and to my eyes is revealed another. I perceive an old woman, sitting with aged head bowed upon work-hardened hands. Her whole figure bespeaks utter dejection and despair. The pathetic old soul is Merla Clark. Poor thing! She is at present an undertaker. Many years have passed and Merla has undertaken many things and accomplished nothing. I Now that dismal picture, too, fades, and reveals- No, no! The spark! The flame! The blazing burst of light! The sign that you have finished. Well done, oh good and faithful crystal! To you belongs the glory and the praise, and heartfelt grati- tude. Fare-thee-well, oh crystal-thing of mystery, of wisdom, thee-well! and of fire-fare- JJ' Elite! Svtanharhs of the Glass of 1923 Our aim success, our hope to win Has ever been our guide. We strove in friendly rivalry As classmates, side by side. The goal is reached, the victory's won- A span of life is past, Now we behold the rising sun ln future promise cast. We'll face the dawn with fearless mien And raise our standard to the skyg We'll win life's game-the hall of fame! For dear old Selah High. -Maria Webber.

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THE FRUIT SPUR nineteen writing furiously, and the midnight oil bums low. Now she heaves a huge sigh of relief, gathers up her writing materials, and is about to depart. The young woman is Sylvia Saunders, editor of the Selah Valley Optimist, writing an editorial on The Use of Eyes. Another vision? What portrayal is this? I see a vast hall-the senate cham- ber. ln the midst of this great assemblage of men stands a lone woman, eloquent and forceful. lt is Vivien Mueller, woman senator, delivering a speech in Congress urging the adoption of a bill for the reduc- tion of the high cost of loving. This scene changes. I see the interior of a huge tabernacle. On the platform is a f'ure, fiery, tense and full of entreaty. He is delivering a sermon, a sermon whose awful persuasion and woeful wam- ings would soften the hard heart of a Spanish buccaneer. It is Rev. Donald Fogelquist, world's leading evangelist, whose eloquence and oratorical powers have made him even superior to Billy Sunday. lt is rumored that his ability as a great speaker was first recognized, when, as a student of Selah High School, he used to do his stunt in French class. Now that vision fades. There glides into my range of sight the porch of a pretty bungalow. Seated in a slowly mov- ing porch swing are two people-a man and a maid. lt is a very pretty little love scene. The man gently steals his arm around the girl, and she snuggles willingly into the hollow of his arm and breathes a contented little sigh of happiness. Yvonne, my dearest Yvonne, breathes the man, bending down to kiss the dark, sleek head. Oh, you dumbell! Can't you kiss her like you meant it? Now, do it over again, storms the exasperated director. Oh, do it right this time, please, sighs the girl. All right, Miss Coleman. Sorry, replies the man, and Mary, world's greatest motion-picture actress, moves away from his arms and they prepare to do it all over again. Now there stretches before my vision a huge stadium, in which is being played a woman's championship game of baseball. A dark-haired girl, a fine athletic type, steps up to the plate and coolly waits for a ball. Presently a swift one is sent her by the pitcher and the girl, keenly alert, deals it a well-directed blow which sends it flying. A mighty cheer is sent up by the crowd, and Mona Kelly, famous woman ballplayer, and intemationally known as Lucky Strike, adds another home run to her record. What new vision is this? What glitter and what blare? Oh, yes! The vision clears, and I behold that the Camival, the city of canvas and bunk, has come to town. ln front of one of the tents, a large one with the word Extravaganza printed in blazing electric letters above it, is a man with a megaphone, who shouts out information as to this most gorgeous, this most wonderful show which starts in just one minute, ladies and gentlemen. A curious crowd gathers. Behind the man a door opens and reveals to light the most gorgeous vision of grease paint and tawdry trappings ever beheld. Then begins a movement, or rather a series of move- ments, tenuous, tortuous and twistly. The crowd starts, open-mouthed. Somebody makes an exclamation. My word! he gasps., Nathalie Tyrrell, l'll be bound! And-so it is. Mlle Tyrrell, world famous for her extravagant interpretation of the hitches and twitches of the Extrava- ganzaf' But that picture is erased. My crystal reveals to me a girl seated at a piano, playing. She bobs up and down and keeps her shoulders in a constant state of wriggly agitation, in accordance with the music. Hush! A peculiar sound comes to my ears. Can it be music? lt sounds more like Mr. Shaffer's description of jazz-a buzz saw going through a keg of ten-penny nails. lt is jazz! Now I see it all. lt is Leona Grignon, world's leading jazzist, playing over the radio. What new realm of vision is this which greets my inquiring eyes? To me is re- vealed a hall in the very modern and up- to-date Selah High School. At one end is an open door, leading into an office. Coming from the room are voices. Some- one, a woman, is speaking in a strangely familiar voice. Where were you sent down from ? she asks. Now comes the reply. I was sent down from French I

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THE FRUIT SPUR twenty-one last Twill auh illestament Probated in judge Ehrit's Court, May 29, 1923, with Miss Mary Coleman as executor and Donald Fogelquist, attomey for the executor. Know ye all-Bolsheviks, Reds, Social- ists and juniors, that this full-grown class of old maids and hen-pecked husbands do hereby dispose of everything we don't want, as follows: ARTICLE I. Since a certain member of the orchestra has made himself very popular with that section of the city, wherein he lives, by his persistent tooting upon his saxaphone from his perch on the front porch and since many of his selections are of a re- ligious nature and since we want to en- courage his work in evangelism, we be- queath this hymn book to Harry King. ARTICLE II. Since by observation we have seen that to absorb knowledge is slow work, and in view of the fact that a certain junior has met considerable difficulty along this line in past months, we leave as an absorber of knowledge this sponge to Stewart Lan- caster. ARTICLE Ill. Since a certain member in this High School has the absurd belief that life is a dream we wish to fulfill Merrill's belief by bequeathing to him Mamie Bowers. In view of the fact that paper, money and time are scarce, we will dispose of these articles in a less detailed manner- here goes: To jean Scutt we leave a spray ma- chine. To Bill Hassel, who is in quest of pain- less beauty and cleanliness, we hereby leave a bar of Tar Baby Soap. . To Maria Webber we leave an earl-y alarm clock. To Glessa Davis a recipe for a tonic to restore toneless hair: Boil one carrot, one beet, one onion in Campbell's Tomato Soup, strain and apply daily. I To Cliff johnson we leave a bottle of Speedum Linament, which is the only remedy that will remove stiffness from the jointsg one application will make him go like Dynah-might. To Dorothy Taylor we leave Rowlee's Knock-Out Powder to dispose of trouble- some boys. Since it has been noticed that Art Dris- coll has drop-sy and his head is so far from the ground we do hereby bequeath to him a magnet. To Victor jones we leave a vamping rose. We do hereby dispose of twenty-one handkerchiefs left in the Senior roll room to be washed and ironed and sewed to- gether to make a K. K. K. regalia for Clark Vail. Owing to the fact that the Senior girls are unbelievedly a catty bunch, we leave to the underclassmen this tail and our generosity also bids us to leave the me-ow. Mr. Pfeifer to adjust the pieces. Witness our hand and foot this 29th day of May, 1923. THE SENIOR CLASS.