Springfield High School - Capitoline Yearbook (Springfield, IL)

Page 14 text:

4 1 4 N 1 X H X N QI ,4l....

Page 13 text:

do Q i !g L I 6 C5555 OYPIEQRJ, 21 k E2 .uf A 5 M ik 3!9- f --Q95--:li

Page 15 text:

THE CAPITOLINE Page 7 be, show me what a certain number of people, whom I shall name, are doing and I shall make it worth your while. He nodded his head in the affirmative and after I had given him the names of those I desired to see., he bid me keep my eyes closely fixed on a round glass, a part of this strange machine, while he turned a wheel at my side which caused an intense red light to cover the glass. This light quickly diminished and in its place came a picture of a large court- room filled with people whose faces I scanned for the members of my graduating class whom in this picture I was to see. My attention was drawnto a bright looking man who I judged by his actions was defending the cause of another gentleman who was seated nearby. As I followed this lawyer in his movements it grad- ually dawned upon me that this person was no other than William J. Millar, jr., president, etc., of the class. As I watched the movements of his lips, I wondered if he were trying to crack a jo-ke as in his younger days. However, I was not much surprised at finding this dignified person in the office of a lawyer but I was exceedingly sur- prised to find that the defendant was iHonorable Harry Elhert, Sena- tor from Illinois, who was seeking a divorce, from his wife, on the grounds of cruelty. The picture faded away and in its place came one much more interesting. e c It was a picture of a prize fight and by the size of the crowd and the way they were betting I imagined it must have been one of ,those S200,000 purses fought for in San Francisco.. The fight seemled rather one-sided for one, a stout' little blackheaded Irishman was knocking the other about furiously. At last time was called and as the victor raised his head I became aware that the hero was Kid Rourke, an old class mate of mine. I presume that he, like me, had found writing wit' and humor was not lucrative so had taken to the ring, whipping the ears down ofall professional prize fighters. But my old friend Roukie was not the only one whom I recognized in this picture. For when the referee, after jumping about watching for fouls, ileaned against the side ropes, when time was called, I perceived he ,was Milton Gaffney, who was likewise a member of my classj Since foot- ball had been ruled from college sports, Coach Gaffney had been thrown out of a position, so he had become a referee of prize fights. As before, the scene vanished and another opened. gift tall slender woman, a room full of restless students, a clock several hours slow, but trying its best and a teacheris desk set to one side of the room constituted the picture. The teacher stood stern and dfignified at the front of the row of seats, trying flier best to get a recitation from the class who indifferently gazed at the pictures on the walls, looked out through the glass in the doors and watched the old clock plod along. Finally she became exasperated, turned and wrote on the blackboard, you have admitted conciliation is admissible. This struck me like a shock. Was it possible that they were still drilling Burke into students' heads and if so I pitied them with all my heart. It was not until I began to recollect our senior English Qclass that I