Shields High School - Patriot Yearbook (Seymour, IN)

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Page Seventeen THE BAT RI.O T COMMENCEMENT NUMBER crowded with joys. Then came the realization that these would cease suddenly and that we would go our separate ways. But I dared not think of this. My heart filled with hope, the hope that our future would be as bright as our school days had been. Again I looked from the window, this time to see the entire landscape clothed in all the freshness of spring and breathing out hope, beauty, joy. FLOSSIE ALLEN, ’10. TO THE TEACHERS. Who is it runs old S. H. S., And gives us all those horrid tests In which we’re sure to get an x? The teachers. Who knows just how to do a thing ; Be it to talk, be it to sing, Who knows, in fact, most everything? Our teachers. Whom do we love in S. H. S. Who are in fact the very best And by the gods are surely blest? Our teachers. Who is it that gave to each his start, From whom are Seniors loath to part? From those most dear to every heart, Our teachers, —Ex. Who says that each one in our class ee Would easily as infants pass, MY FIRST ORATION. Because we give them all our sass? My hands did shake, The teachers. My knees did quake, My ears turned red, Who doth our moral bodies stunt And this I said, With long reports that do affront “I wonder.” Our souls, and all our senses blunt? The teachers. My head whirled, My fingers twirled, Who keeps us in at half-past three My paper fluttered, And turns a deaf ear to each plea And I stuttered, To let us just this once go free? “T wonder.” The teachers. : If they knew, Who tells us we must hustle round When I was through, The world, with knowledge to astound What I had said, To reach the goal for which we’re bound? Being half dead, Our teachers. “T wonder.” Who tries to make us higher aim “I love a Fresoman,” said Bobby one day, That they may some day see our name “T love her and love her as well as I may, Inscribed upon the walls of fame? And of course you must know she returns it with grace, Our teachers. So by now we’ve worked up a most terrible case.”

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Nyaa Ae 3) COMMENCEMENT NUMBER OUR LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT. We, the Senior class of the Shields High School of the city of Seymour, in the county of Jackson, in the state of Indiana, being of sound mind and memory and considering the uncertainty of this frail and transitory life, do, therefore, make, ordain, publish and declare this to be our last will and testament. First, we order that our executor hereinafter named, pay all our just debts and remunerate the janitors for sweeping paper off the floor and cleaning up. Second, after the payment of such debts, we give, devise and bequeath to the class of 1911, and all classes following, a bran new room, completely furnished with light, heat and all modern conveniences in the new S. H. S.. Also the bookcase, encyclopedias, and all reference books left in our old room. And, whereas we have had nothing but bare walls upon which to feast our eyes, and cultivate our artistic sense, we hereby bequeath to the said class and all classes following, two pictures which we hope will help decorate the new building. We also g:ve to the girls our look- ing glass by which to arrange their hair. And we give, devise and bequeath to the said class and all classes following, the sacred duty and charge of editing the “Patriot,” which we with reluctancy lay aside. We also bequeath to the succeeding Physics classes an old bat- tery, glass bottle, iron rod, some sulphuric acid and gasoline which they may take with them to the labratory in the new building. To the class of 1911 we give the right to keep all marbles, tin soldiers, small horns and stuffed chickens and glass balloons which they may find in cracks and desks, and all money left in our treas- ury after the 28th day of April, 1910. To the class of 1912 we give all powder and paint that the Senior girls leave in their desks. To the Freshman class of 19138 we give, devise and bequeath the right to become Sophomores and go into the new building as such. And to all classes we leave the shining example of the class of nineteen hundred ten, whereby they may be guided and leave large footprints in the sands of time. Lastly we make, constitute, and appoint J. C. Edwards, to be executor of this our last will and testament, hereby revoking all former wills made by us. De Ae Te a oer Page Sixteen In witness thereof, we hereunto subscribe our name and affix our seal this 1 8th day of April, in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred ten. (Seal) CLASS OF 1910. Signed and witnessed before me this 18th day of April in the year of our Lord nineteen hundred ten. ICHABUD DOBAHCI, Notary Public. My commission expires January 1, 1911. A SKETCH. I sat by a window in the little Senior room of the old S. H S. It was a bright April day but a touch of sadness with its dampness crept over me. Commencement was but a few days off. Then we would leave the old S. H. S. forever. Forever! How that word lin- gered in my mind. Through those last High School days it would not leave me for a moment. Everything about the old building seemed to be calling “farewell” to me. I watched tue stately elms stretching their great arms toward the sky, toward their Maker, and they, too, seemed to be sad because thirty boys and girls whom they had watched and guarded all these years, were bidding farewell to them, no longer to roam beneath their hovering shade in the shadow of the old building. The sun shone from a deep blue sky, in clear radiance, but a mist seemed to cover my eyes. I knew that in a few days we would leave our teachers and the thought of separation pained me. In spite of all our faults and mis- demeanors we love them still. How can we ever make them realize our deep gratitude and appreciation for the lessons of life as well as the lessons of knowledge that we aave learned under their faithful instruction. Indeed, we ourselves do not now realize the value of their timely advice. We can never realize it fully till we get out in the world, dependent on ourselves and in need of something to guide us. Wherever we go, the memory of our association will be most pleasant to us. r I looked out again. This time the birds hopping from bough to bough, free from all care, were twiuering in utter delight. I thought of my classmates with whom I would soon have to part. There flashed through my mind the memory of the good: times that had filled our High School days and the thought of that last week to be

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COMMENCEMENT NUMBER THe E PAs TeR GOS Page Bighteen THE SENIORS’ FAREWELL. We're quitting now our studies here, The time to go is drawing near; We’ve worked and done our very best, And stood the last great final test. So we think it’s but our right | Since we have worked with all our might, To give instruction, to the rest So they can work with greater zest. We leave to the Juniors proud and tall, Our possessions here, but one and all And sincerely hope, but scarce expect Them such a record as ours to erect. To the Soph’s we leave our high regards, And hope that they’ll win great awards, When they advance to our old place And bravely strive to run the race. To the Freshies one little word we say, And that is this, ‘Don’t get too gay;” | We know you're bright and all of that i But don’t get a head too big for your hat. To the teachers our thanks we tender, As the best thing which we can render; And hope they’ll say when we’re not here, That they wish for a class as good next year. And now a word to all we’ve spoken We've done it as a hearty token, Of our good will to each and all And further, just within the hall You'll find the dear old looking glass, Keep it as a remembrance of the Senior class; We now are done and humbly ask Leave to return to our appointed task. We leave the High School walk forever, And our connection with it sever, Farewell, we say, farewell to all Remember the Senior proud and tall. —Hx. A SENIOR CLASS SONG (Tune of Heidelberg.) O dear old school, O dear old class! Shall ever we forget The golden haze of Senior days? ’Twill cling around us yet. These Senior days will come no more, But through our future years The thoughts of 1910 so true Will fill our eyes with tears. O Senior days, fair Senior days, Shall ever we forget The bluish haze of old Trig. days That jar the nerves as yet? Those blessed hours will come no more, But through our future years The thoughts of these, though now a bore, Will streak our cheeks with tears. FROM THE SENIORS Hurrah for the Senior, the class of the wise, To us all scholars must turn their eyes, When for a good pupil our teachers send, Their eyes always tail on a nineteen ten. In all of our studies we make a score, Unequaled by any class here-to-fore. In virtue and knowledge we now surpass The pupils of any other class. And when our place as Seniors we have gained Far and wide shall we be famed; And after we have left this good old place Each toward us, will turn his face. —Ex.