Trivoli Community High School - Memoir Yearbook (Trivoli, IL)

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-'ll-'- e Memo' TiCKLiSH SUBJECTS P - ' '- f -rt C. H. sl , . 192. j --L

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I The Memoir Il' 'QE Alumni Banquet, 1925 On Saturday evening, May 9, 1925, the members of the classes of '23, '24 and '25, assembled in the dining hall of the M. E. church for the second annual banquet. The tables were artistically trimmed with the school colors, Maroon and Black and white tea roses. Chester Anderson acted as toastmaster. The room was filled with laughter at his many jokes. ' Clinton Parr welcomed the new members by a short talk. Donald Bourne gave the response for the class of '25, A short program and a four course dinner followed. There were toasts given by Rev. Ellinwood, Glen Hovendon and Robert Lindberg. Merle Williams gave a baritone solo and Mr. and Mrs. Wood a duet. After the banquet, oflicers were elected for the coming year. The Lanes of Memory The lanes of memory bloom all the fiowers of yesteryear And looking back we smile to see life's bright roses reappear, The little sprigs of mignonette that smiled upon us as we passed, The pansy and the violet, too sweet, we thought those days, to last. The gentle mother by the door caresses still her lilac blooms, And as we wander back once more, we seem to smell the old perfumes, We seem to live again the joys that once were ours so long ago When we were little girls and boys, with all the charms we used to know. But living things grow old and fade, the dead in memory remain, In all their splendid youth arrayed, exempt from suffering and paing The little babe God called away, so many, many years ago, Is still a little babe today, and I am glad that this is so. Time has not changed the joys we knewg the summer rains and winter snows Have failed to harm the wond'rous hue of any dew-kissed by-gone roseg In memory 'tis still as fair as when we plucked it for our own, And we can see it blooming there, if anything, more lovely grown. And down the lanes of memory bloom all the joys of yesteryear, And God, has given you and me the power to make them reappear, For we can settle back at night and live again the joys we knew And taste once more the old delight of days when all our skies were blue. Page Eighty-two I T. C. H. 9. - - 1936 I WWW-'l

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-1 - I The Megngifl A Frightful Tale The girl, alone as it seemed to her, in the big assembly, shuddered as she thought of the horrible ordeal, through which she must pass. She looked at the clock. Time was flying past on swift, sure wings. She must prepare. With a sob she took up a small sharp-pointed in- strument. How could she use it, when it meant her ruin! She laid it down and then with a determined air, she took it up again. A noise to the left distracted her thoughts for a moment. Looking, she saw a most fraightful aspect coming down the hall She shrank back, back to a very innermost corner. It was going to speak! Then with a start- ling suddenness, she heard the teacher's voice bursting forth upon her ear, All those taking the geometry test pass into room three! ! The time had come and the martyr went to the stake. One Who Knows. Pat's Reason An oflicer on board a battleship was drilling his men. I want every man to lie on his back, put his legs in the air, and move them as if he were riding a bicycle, he explained. Now begin. After a short effort one of the men stopped. Why have you stop- ped, Murphy? asked the oiiicer. If you plaze, sor, was the reply, Fm coasting. Paul: He was born in 1342 and traveled in England in 1302. Mr. Wood: Tell about the lyric poetry. Paul: Some of it is descriptive, but the best part of it is love. Wilma: Wish I didn't have anything more to do than play like the Freshies. Maybe I'd get good grades, too. Evelyn: Yes, and if we played like the Seniors, we wouldn't get very good grades. Here we have our janitor, He ranks above them all. If he's not scrubbing down the stairs, He's scrubbing in the hall. He tends the fires both morn and noon, He doesn't have much rest, We always see him with his broom, And know he's doing his best. How we wonder where Goldie gets the strawberries that stain her lips so red in January. Page Eighty-four v t I 1', C, H, S, . . iqgb 1 0Q3E