Versailles High School - Portal Yearbook (Versailles, OH)

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THE SWASTIKI AN Page 21 Newton Beal Dwight Berry Edwin Brandon Delbert Brown Elbert Brown Richard Coffield Richard Cottrell Robert Everhart Edward Gerlach Fred Haines Warren Seman Iris Arnett Marie Arnett Margaret Begien Virginia Brown Dorthabel Gerlach Mary Hole Jeanette Miller Thelma Oliver Junior Sfigb Soil Leah Byrd Margaret Gerlach Lillian Jacobi Betty Urquhart Helen Ward Dean Bigham Emerson Brown Harry Frantz Robert Harn Elmer Rismiller Hugh Smith Carl St. Meyers James Weaver Edith Deeter Ella Deeter Dorthea Simons Lova Spillers Elsie Troutwine Martha Ullery

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Page 20 THE SWASTIKIAN Junior Sfujfy rhonl Junior High School, an organization of the Seventh and Eighth grades, has now had two years of experience in this new arrangement. The students are given many advantages and opportunities through this new plan of organization. L. B. Martin and Miss Gladys Kamman are teachers of Junior High School. Classes are conducted on a plan similar to Senior High School. The Junior H. S. has been divided into two literaries, and both boys and girls have organized basketball teams.

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Page 22 THE SWASTIKIAN TO THE OLD SCHOOL HOUSE t ’Tis sad that a school we cherish. Should be taken from our home. But joys that will not perish Live in memory alone. The sorrow that everyone mentions, The sorrow in which we all share, Is the sorrow the dear old school gives us, The passing away and the care. But, dear old School, we’ll ne’er forget you. Even though your days are but few; For together we’ve climbed your stairs— Who? Both me and you. Many of the years we’ve spent together, And the happy, golden hours, Shall be cherished in remembrance, Fragrance sweet from memory’s flowers. Goodbye, you’re going home. ----Bridget Boomershine, ’28. SCHOOL AND TEACHERS We wonder why they assign us so much, Why long lessons we must read About all the tiresome work, Of which there is no need. What is the use of literature ? What good will Latin do ? How can they be so mean. As to teach us history, too ? The clock seems fast in the morning. In the evening it seems so slow; If it wasn’t for the plagued school, I’d be earnin’ lots of dough. When you have grown quite old, For old age will come too fast, You will often sit and think Of how the time has passed. Pleasant memories of the football team. And how you made a run ; About your old school teachers, What they, for you, have done. You’ll wish that you were young again And think what you would do; You will remember the old school building That was replaced by one quite new. —Carl Harman, ’28.