Thornburg High School - Orange and Black Yearbook (Thornburg, IA)

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ozunlulnlnnnnl Twenty Just after sunset one evening, we assembled up town and at the sig- nal, given by a light in Superintendent Bailey's office, mysterious to some, we cautiously moved in the direction of the building. A shrill whistle from Cecil Dansdill caused us to be noticed and admitted Soon the gold and white was strung from pillar to post, from desk to desk, from light to light, until a network of these beautiful colors fairly filled the assembly hall. Naturally enough, following such strenuous exercise everyone sat down only of course, to rest. After a few words had passed from one to the other, faint but certain sounds proved that the enemy had arrived with the determination to destroy the wonderful decorative skills of the evening. Closer and closer they came until there could be no mistake. They had come. Think of how vicious they must have been to follow peaceful Seniors into their rendezvous and even harbor the thought of molesting any constructive work accomplished by us. However, the fact that Jun- iors were Juniors was soon impressed upon the mind of every Senior, for, certain definite knockings could be easily detected from outside. Although few in number, we were up and going. We fastened all the windows which were not locked, stationed people at each door for fear the enemy had obtained keys from some sympathizer, and guarded every possible vent through which the most treacherous highwayman might creep. At last the enemy, who had strengthen- ed their forces, seemed to fairly pour from every direction ,through windows, doors and corners. Shrieks rang out for help but by the time aid reached us, paper, bunting and pins lay in distress on the floor, trampled and stained by the wicked trod of the invading Juniors. Although apparently beaten we were not whipped for with- in us was instilled the spirit to excell not only in our own class af- fairs but also in all the activities of the school. The Class Annual, a record of our four years' hard work, is one of the finest. The editor-in-chief and the staff have done their level best and we sincerely hope that the work will be appreciated. As we are few in number, it will be impossible for us to leave anything of a material nature as a reminder of the class of '21 but we, as our one prayer, wish to know that Thornburg High School will continue to de- velop as it has in the past. ' We wish to say, one and all, that although we have had some hard times .in Thornburg High School we have enjoyed all four years of our High School life, and have been greatly benefitted by them, and, Our hearts with fondness swell, As we bid fond farewell , 0ut of school life, into lifeis school? g zoLA JACK '21. , m-num 1921 mm

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CLASS PROPHECY I It is my hobby to sit before an imaginary hearth, dressed in robe and slippers, in fact, there is built within my room a hearth in which there is an electric glow. My grandson installed this to meet my whims, for an old woman cannot easily become accustomed to the progress of science. As a girl, to curl up in an easy chair before a hearthfire, was a great pleasure, there was companionship in the glare. Nor does the automatic chemical heat of this day of progress warm my rheumatic joints as a fire would. The good old days of fires and furnace fires are gone. Aside from the old prints and al- most ancient photographs, one no longer sees a comforting chimney from the top of houses. This room, built and equipped along the lines of olden days, is somewhat of a curiosity, I presume, to everyone, but none enjoy it more than my little granddaughter, Zola J ack, Third, and here she sits, at my knee, listing to the garrulous tales I tell her about when I was a girl. Tonight, she dragged from my treasured books, the High School volumes concerning the classes of 1920 and 1921. Both of them are frayed, thumb marked and dimmed with age. In the volume of 1921 appears a prophecy which I wrote of the future of the students of that class and this she discovered. I was showing it to her and also the pictures of the Junior class of 1920. Did they grow up as you said they would? asked the girl. I laughed. They did not. As a prophet, as in many other things in life, I was a dismal failure. The ones I said would be ministers, be- came lawyers, the lawyers, undertakers, the undertakers, mission- aries, and the missionaries, bankers. As a prophet I was far from being a success. She opened the 1921 volume again and looked intently at the Senior pictures. y It was a pretty swell looking bunch of boys and girls, wasn't it, grandma? The swellest that was ever graduated from the Thornburg High School, I answered, with pardonable pride. Who is that angel-faced boy, grandma? she asked. That boy, I answered, was far from being an angel. His name was Cecil Dansdill. He was the class witf' Then pointing to the oth- ers on the picture, I added: These six, with Cecil, were the bane of existence for every teacher that was ever in that school. In some fash- ion they all finished the course, but in getting their diplomas, they ' Ililllluln lllllllllll Twenty two'