Taylor University - Ilium / Gem Yearbook (Upland, IN)

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HENRY C. SCHLARB, The Bishop . Conceit is the securest armor a man can wear. ANNA SKOW. Ann . A noble type of good, heroic wom- anhood. HARVEY BROWN. Painter . The man of few words is the best man. ELLA SCHARER. Grandma . The gentler born the maiden, the more bound to be sweet and serviceable. KENNETH AYRES. Lab Fiend . : ' K The drum resounds! To arms ! To arms ! To arms ! THURMAN MOTT. Married . Nothing ever turns up in this world unless somebody turns it up. FRED HALL. Fritz . He was a man in whom I had an absolute trust. GENEVA HORN. A small musical instrument . Cast thy bread upon the waters and after many days it will come back — buttered. BARTON R. POGUE. Amateur Photographer . Success comes in cans, failure in cant ' s. ARLIE E. CORTNER. Preacher . In his day and generation he helped the coming of the king- dom of truth and righteousness, and that is to fulfil one ' s high calling. ■211

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■f.-B ' 17. JUNIOR President — Henry C. Schlarb Secretary — Marie Gibbs 19

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Junior Class Poem JOSEPH P. BLADES. Second! In his duty prompt at every call, He watched, and wept, and felt, and prayed for all. ROY S. BROWN. Newlywed . God made the country, Man made the town. MARIE GIBBS. Editress , H. Maria Wright . Better be happy than wise. JOHN B. VICKERY. Barber . The noblest mind the best con- tentment has. BUNJIRO HADA. Schopenhauer . Let him be kept from paper, pen and ink. So may he cease to write and learn to think. I have wandered through poems of classes, That have rung since the time of the flood, But not one a suggestion does offer To a poet who ' s still in the bud. These poets who lived in past ages, Tell all the good traits of their class; They have used all the roses and moonbeams, Which the pen of our censors would pass. But for once let us stop our vain babbling, And take a more common-place view, Of the boys and the girls — men and women, Who make up the Junior class crew. There ' s none of us claims to be handsome, And our future — Well, it ' s in the air. We ' re worried for nothing but credits — To be Seniors, and what puts us there. We are glad we avoided the Gem year, And the book with a back like a Ford, Where the Seniors get dandy fine write-ups, And to pay for it go without board. We ' ve come up from row K in the Chapel, Till now we are firmly entrenched In the line of the second defences Where the smoke from the platform is dense. No longer we hear the faint booming Of precept on precept afar; But now we ' re close up in the battle, And of cannon we feel the rough jar. And soon we ' ll be called to the front rank, The place of the Seniors to take, Where corrections fall fastest and thickest. From the fire of the theologs — we quake. 21