Selah High School - Fruitspur Yearbook (Selah, WA)

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THE FRUITSPUR Fifteen CLASS WILL We, the Senior Class of 1925, we who are passing out, realizing that we will un- doubtedly be buried deep, do hereby draw up our last Will and Testament, and place it in the hands of Bob Cowie, the school huntsinan, to be executed. I To the Juniors we leave our name and all the dignity and privileges which accompany it, and our roll room, with its battered desks and bare walls. II To the Sophomores we have many good examples to leave, both in studies and athletics. III To the Freshmen we leave the hope and desire to some day be Seniors. IV Private offerings by kind-hearted personages are as follows: Ward Walker leaves to his little brother his ability to arguefy. Ruth Carroll leaves to Dorothy Matson a half bottle of Haley's Magic Hair Dye. Guaranteed not to turn red in the bottle. Helen Christian leaves to Katherine Harrison a desire to take life easy. Clayton Miller announces that, having no further use for his false teeth, he will return them to his dentist. To the school and the community we leave our best wishes. Witness our hand and glove this 20th day of March, l925. SENIOR CLASS Witnesses: Cal Coolidge Dutch Meyers. M. J. B.-All unnecessary parts to be used to repair Clark Vail's Ford. TA z - W ' -: ' 5 reg-! ! Qhspim' .E ,- V f as

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Fourteen THE FRUITSPUR CLASS HISTORY The opening of school in the fall of 1920 is an event never to be forgotten in the annals of Selah High School, for it was then that the class of '25 entered its portals. As Freshmen we were green but we were soon initiated into high school life by the Sophomores. After a great initiation we enjoyed our first high school party in the gymnasium. At Christmas time we paid back our debt by a party to the Sophomores. During the winter they entertained us at a jolly coasting party. Mr. Pugsley was our advisor. As Sophomores, with Miss Berry as advisor, we initiated the Freshmen, had our parties, struggled through Geometry and finished the year with a big picnic at Eagle Rock. The next year Miss Jean Thayer was our advisor. Perhaps the most important events of the year were the Junior-Senior banquet which was very successful and the close of school which gave us the right to be called Seniors. The last year is always the best. The class play, Clarence, was a scream. The Seniors presented a program to the school on Lincoln's birthday which was interesting to say the least. Miss Ruth Johnson is our worthy advisor. There are twenty-nine Seniors, nine of whom have attended Selah schools from the first grade on. There were fifty-two of us when we entered high school but in spite of the decrease we have the honor to be the largest graduating class ever leaving Selah High. Sneak day is yet to come but when we do go we know it will be the time of our lives. We hope that we have helped to put Selah High on the map and we know that we are better able to meet life for having been students within her doors for the past four years. FLORENCE BOUNSALL, '25. SENIOR CLASS POEM In this year of '25 When our class is still alive, Please remember what we say, We will progress on our way To fame. Some, I think, and some, I know, Will onward, forward to college go, Striving for the A's, our pride, Striving with all their main and might To fame. We will stay upon the path, Keep ourselves from wandering off Till we've reached the peak, There looking forward to success Or fame. Then we'll look back to the days, When old Selah High we praised, Glad that we were being sent From her walls of sweet content To fame. MIRIAM HANCOCK.

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Sixteen THE FRUITSPUR CLASS PROPI-IECY I am the great Ali Bevo, the mystery man of the age. I am known throughout the world for my magnificent powers in foretelling the future. I have but one black mark on my record and that is the time I prophesied Firpo would beat Dempsey, but that is all over now. On making a tour of your beautiful country, the United States, I have made it a practice to stop at all the good high schools along the line. Because Principal Bacher would not excuse the Senior Class from their regular classes so that they could have private readings, I have, after getting a nominal sum as a reward, written the prophecy of the class. It seems hard for me to concentrate in your school building as cries of Hurrah and Hot Dog often disturb me. Ah! Before me is a great theater in the heart of your great city. This large sign reads, Jackie Cooganfl in the Brute of Omahav and directly beneath it in different colored lights, Added Attractions for this Week Only: M iss Pearl M athis Qf the Follies In Fifteen Minutes of Song and Dance. As I reach down to tie my shoe the vision of Ward Walker appears before me. Yes, he is a shoe salesman in the A. Champoux Cash Store. Finding it hard to concentrate I scratch my head to aid myself. Again I see faces. The first is that of Mamie Bowers. She is in her laboratory working with different chemicals. She has discovered the world's greatest hair tonic, one that is rated above her old tonic Sheep Dip. Miss Bowers has accumulated great wealth and also beautiful long curls from her invention. l Music from one of the rooms disturbs me but it brings to me a picture. In a great ballroom, a dispute of long standing is to be settled. Arthur Murray, America's premier dance instructor, is to meet Merril Lavender, the Pride of Selah, for the dancing championship of the United States. Ah! There is great cheering. Laven- der wins on a foul and is crowned the greatest dancer of the age. Again I see a theater. A great sign is in front of it, announcing Fred Wherry in Black Oxfords supported by Edith Anderson and John Bowman. They have reached the heights of stardom on the silver screen. Fred Wherry has taken the place of the once great Valentino, Miss Anderson the place of Nita Naldi, and John Bowman the place of our great hero Ben Turpin. Sad things appear before me. It is the funeral of Sid Martin who broke his leg and had to bexshot. Rev. Jack Troffer is paying last tribute to the man. Rev. Troffer is second only to Billy Sunday as an Evangelist. He has already done a great work by translating the Bible into the Eskimo language. Before me appears a chicken and the familiar face of Sylvia Harris. But the scene is in Russia. 'Oh, yes, Sylvia Harris, alias Gwendoly, the gambler, is selling gold filled hen teeth and stock in the League of Nations. She has already amassed the fortune of thirty thousand rubles from the unsuspecting Russians.