Spencer High School - Spencerian Yearbook (Spencer, IN)

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On My Way To School. JUANITA BAUMGARTNER, '15. As I was strolling down a side street on my way to school one warm spring morning, I passed a large colonial house covered with green vines. An old-fashioned garden, merry with bright flowers lay on one side, on the other were trees and a cozy summer-house, in the door of which I spied an old lady knitting. ,ln order that I might more closely observe this in- teresting picture, I walked along very slowly. The old lady had snowy white hair which waved about her face. Her eyes were blue and her cheeks a delicate pink. Every few minutes she gazed eagerly down the street as if looking for some one. On her perfectly poised head she Wore a white lace cap, trimmed with lavender ribbon. Her dress, too, was lavender, around her throat was a white kerchiefg a small white apron helped to soften the picture. I thought at once of a beautiful painting I had seen of a dear old Puritan dame. As I turned the corner, the coun- tenance of the dear old lady brightened perceptibly, and I noticed a chubby, golden-haired, rosy-cheeked tot of about five years come running up. Dramma, drammaj' he shouted, I tum to det my tookies l And the dear old lady surrendered the contents of her spacious pockets to him. The Boy Next Door. LULU WAMPLER, 'l5. I remember that in a town where we once lived we all had somewhat of a horror of the boy next door. Not that he ever did anything really mean, but the many pranks he played on us and on other long-suffering families, portrayed a never-subsiding mischievousness. His ingenuity along that line was marvelous. One did not have to live by him more than a month to find him a careless, care-free, impetuous boy, brimming over with fun and spirit. You could see it in the sparkling of his blue eyes, and in his breezy way of saying Good morning. The abundance of light brown hair, which curled around his forehead, was usually bushed up from hastily pulling off his cap. His mother told me that he had a most unaccountable way of wearing out stockings and trousers, and his father marvelled at the pairs of shoes his young son could get away with in a year. One never considered it quite safe to leave anything of value on the back porch. Whenever Billy found anything in his neighborhood that was not fastened nor too heavy to drag away, he generally considered it his property. If it were a strap, he would have it around his dog's neck, leading him all over town, if it were a base-ball, he would be getting up a game with his neighborsg or, if it were a pair of skates, he would be skating down town to get the mail. I remember one time in particular we had company to dinner. The ice cream was in the freezer on the back steps, All went smoothly till Mother went to get the dessert. Just as she opened 25

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XX HIGH SCHOOL LIFE BETWEEN THE LINES-Continued. jolly friendship that followed? Perhaps the teachers moved him away in the midst of it, but that didn't alter things--much. Do you remember that handsome, manly young fellow who picked up your books that Windy morning, as you were going to school, and the silly cartoon which blew out and began your acquaintance? Or, again, that polite, curly-haired cavalier who escorted you home that rainy evening, under his umbrella, in order to make the hit which the girls wouldn't give him an introduc- tion for? Do you remember the time when you met him on the stairs during school hours, and the superintendent caught you, and ordered youboth to your rooms? Ah yes, and many more such incidents, past and present, you will never forget! Then, too, there are the social affairs, class parties of many kinds, hay-rides and skating parties. Yes, you remember those, too! The jolly games and amusements you enjoy now, as you will at no other time in your life. Let no one take them away! There are commencements, banquets and other imposing affairs with their distributions of honors and fun, their worries of dress and behavior, which at the time seem very serious. We would not change these for anything! All this without considering lessons and athletics! Much could be said about both, as showing the under-current of high school life, and the rippling little eddies that move on to the placid or rushing river of later years. It is all necessary and worth while. A school without the life between the lines is dead and dead indeed. 'The Ships. RU'1'i-I CULMER, '16, When we look back o'er the sea of life, At the wreck of the Yesterday, We think of all the toil and strife That with it has faded away. But anchored lies in yon sheltered cove The good ship called Tomorrow , Chmay it bring to those we love All joy, no touch of sorrow. 24

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--w--W ,, v--.. -- . -1- V . . , THE BOY NEXT DOOR-Continued. the door, she saw a pair of chubby legs scrambling over the back fence, and lwell, there was almost enough cream gone to freeze a small boy like Billy! Quite a habit of borrowing things, had this lad, sometimes with, sometimes without, the consent of the owner. I have known a neighbor boy to stay at home all Saturday, because he could not find his coaster. It was not in its accustomed place that day, and yet the next morning the sled would be hanging on the back porch as if it had never been usurped. At such times we always felt sure that Billy had been at his tricks again. But when I think of this Billy, brimming over with mischief and fun, the feeling of resentment against his many pranks is softened by the knowledge that, with it all, he was always willing to do what he could to help othersg and, though he was very trying at times, everyone loved him because he was generous and whole-hearted. Like Poor Peter, he could not resist a joke, but he was the best fellow that ever was. The Dead Sparrow. TRANSLATED 'BY CLIFFORD HALLEY, '13. The following lament for Lesbia's sparrow, written by Catullus, who lived a little span of life from 87-54 B. C., is here respectfully re-dedicated go gil the Lesbias in high school who have cried their eyes out over dead ir sz Mourn, O Venuses and Cupids, and whatever men there are of refined graces! My sweet-heart's sparrow is dead-the sparrow of my beloved, which she loved more than her eyes, for it was lovely and knew its mis- tress as well as the girl knows her mother. It did not move from her bosom, but hopping now here, now there, chirped continually to its mis- tress alone. Now it goes yonder along that gloomy way whence no one is permitted to return., But a curse upon you, black shades of Orcus, that devour all delightful things! You have borne away my sweet sparrow! O dreadful deed! O poor little sparrow! By your work my sweet-heart's dear eyes are now red and swollen with weeping. ' Woman Kind. JUNE Maman, 15. Our old Mother Nature is always busy, Changing things till it makes one dizzy, She never gets through with her blowing and growing, And where she will end there is no knowing. 26