South High School - Tiger Yearbook (Minneapolis, MN)

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THE CLASS A N X U A L OF ’06 21 Fligelman—Well, well! who would have thought it! Mary Morris and Margaret Gunderson have collaborated to produce the greatest American novel! Florence—Walter Stenvig has written a grand opera and composed the music. It is wonderful. Lampert—By the way, Esther Olsen, Esther Mansfield and Esther Anderson are traveling asthetrio on finance, and have been received in all the courts of Europe. Africa and Asia. Florence (in a trance)—Ah! the vision! Mabel Carlson in one of Velma Kluge’s creations, comes forth, the belle of the ball. Olga Dahl is in the White House, a hostess tonight—oh! splendor incomparable! Even Elta Lenart's hair can’t beat it. Bertha—Would that I were there! Florence—Lo! she comes forth! John Bathurst, resplendent in gold-braided livery, drives her carriage. The moon shines, and—oh! strange sight! there on its silvery surface see I, Cora Seamans who made a baloon ascension several years ago and has not been heard of since. There she reigns, as Queen of the Lunites. Katherine Stranahan, in England, holds the king and queen and all the nation in silence as she makes Westminster ring with softest music. And now. Ruby Rood, with gentle touch, lulls the ocean to rest with her latest lullaby. Martha—Ah! the glory! But where is Marion, sweet Marion Foster? Lampert—Marion wedded a French count and is now the most popular lady in France. Elsie Nelson has rented a cottage on the Alps and is writing poetry on nature, while a dozen or more young men in the valleys are rhapsodizing on “Eves, the windows of the soul. V w Rand—Alas! ’twas ever thus! Charlotte—I hear that George Gamble and Oscar Olstad are keeping a bachelors’ establishment. Oscar does the cooking and George pays the rent. In lighter moments the latter writes poetry on “Waiting at the Gate, and the former is a great preacher. They couldn’t marry and live together, you see. Martha—Oh! here’s Ida Grey! She’s the counsel for the Jewish race. Shvlock was so delighted with her defense that he got her the position. Even Florence Slater and Mabel Moberg have won no more fame in writing formal essays than she, as a lawyer. Ida (entering)—I’ve heard the finest thing about Mary Langon and Grace Parsons. They married English brothers, and now Grace leads a symphony club and Mary is England’s greatest botanist. Isn’t that fine? Rand—This paper says that Marie Lidman is teaching men how to propose by letter. Lillian Blomgren has joined her with a department in how to look beautiful and sit up straight—what 0(5 girls can’t do! They ought to make a success of it.

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20 THE CLASS ANNUAL OF '06 Martha— The prof, did never like the race, His pupils loved an easy case. His teachers liked a certain Grace, His daughter really liked A. Chase. Fligelman — But what about our teachers? (All laugh.) Florence—Presto, chango, singo. All—(Song.) IN 19-30-6 It’s nineteen-thirty-six. I see all my teachers here. Say, isn’t it all a dream? Professor Ozias is just paying our hack fare. Say, this must be all a dream! There’s Miss McDermid hearing brilliant recitations from A class on Monday, all in spite of Sundy’s peace-and calm. For seven days Miss Watts, now pastor, pours out healing balm. O, say, isn’t this all a dream? Chorus: O, say, isn’t this all a dream? O, say, can things be as they seem? There sits Miss Klampe, now the Pope infallible is she. Still Mrs. Buckman’s teaching I shall, you and he will be. O, say, isn’t it all a dream? O, say, isn’t it all a dream? II. Miss Kerr’s made classes learn. How’d she do it? Theorized. Say, isn’t it all a dream? Mister Westerson’s eyebrows have at last been paralyzed Say, this must all be a dream ! Monsieurde Bussieres still strives along with might and main, To make French idioms and speech to everyone quite plain; While all honor the champion of the Junior ball, Miss Swane. O, say, isn’t this all a dream? Chorus: O, say, isn’t this all a dream? O, say, can things be as they seem? Poor Miss Friedlander is quite deaf, she’s strained her hearing so; And Mr. Cook has cooked his goose and joined us down below. O, say, isn’t it all a dream? O, say, isn’t it all a dream?

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THE CLASS ANNUAL OF ’0 6 Ida—And John Nordberg, who didn’t like a strenuous life, was elected vice-president, and hasn’t been heard of since. Mayme (entering)—Ho! everybody! listen! Gertrude Swinburne has just furnished the prettiest little place in the lake district. She and Josephine Braa are studying Virgil together. Cicero claims that they are the best authorities on the classics. Florence—Mary Schwartz and Minnie Sandberg have taken the places of Miss Kerr and Miss Friedlander at South High. Its hard to say whether the old or the new regime is more popular. Martha—They don’t teach French and German any more at South High. Miss Klampe and Mr. DeBussieres made the two so beloved that the present generation have spoken them from the cradle. Lampert If you’d give a fellow a chance to speak I ’d tell you about Hannah Lajord and Emma Gilbertson. They're both in the United States Congress this term, advocating airship rate regulation. Elliot—What! I had a ride in that new two hundred miles an hour airship that Mary Johnson invented. It made the air literally blow through me. Ida—Gracious! That experience is almost as bad as Arnold Larson’s experience. He went sailing in a submarine boat and the water soaked through and through him. He’s now on exhibit as a human sponge. (Great noise outside. Enter Mephisto and Imp.) Mephisto—Booh! (shivering) this marconigram says Millie Johnson has just found the north pole. One could always have a hot time in South High, so I came here to get warmed up. Ah! my servant! (Florence bows) make this bunch sing. (Florence mumbles. All stand stupefied.) Florence—On this merry day of May, nineteen six and thirty, sing! Ein, zwei, drei! sing! sing! CLASS SONG Come along and get you ready, Wear your graduation gown; For there’s going to be some doings In that great South High School town, Where each boy’s got some wisdom And each girl has got some brains. And e’en the foolish freshmens’ necks Are not as long as those of cranes.