Wakefield High School - Oracle Yearbook (Wakefield, MA)

Page 6 text:

THE DEBATER. CLASS PROPHECY. To prophesy about this class of nineteen hundred seven Is hard, because you see they all have brilliant futures, (By brilliant I of course do not mean fiery) And when in writing you find all high positions gone Your supply of situations fine, exhausted. Then what are you going to do ? You hate to mention how a friend both kind and dear Has secured a fine position with the city street department. Or another chum that you especially admired Is serving sixty days for stealing clothes So you see I must be mighty careful Lest I hurt some person ' s feelings Well ; here goes — I see them plainly in the magic crystal. Those three alone who took the brainy course, (A course which by the way lots try to take and fail) And graduated with highest honors three I see them clearly, professors, grave and serious ! Whose words in science are ne ' er disputed. Then here ' s Morrill, alias Stealthy Steve But alas ! he needs some sly investigator To trace his actions, for he ' s raised the price of ice Far beyond the reach of thirsty mortals. I see a company come marching down the street. Surrounded by a curious crowd of every sort and size, But who ' s this haughty personage of lordly air and mien ? Whose breast is covered o ' er with gold and medals rare ? By Jove ! it ' s Billy Stewart commanding the Salvation Army ! And as I live there ' s George McGregor a-stalking by his side Yelling Platoons Right and divers other orders But who ' s this fellow yonder beating lustily the drum Shouting Hallelujah. Glory be, Come forward and be saved, There ' s something quite familiar, well I do declare If it isn ' t Charlie Jordan, — who ' d have thought to see liim here ? The procession stops and lo ! — L. Eaton offers prayer Or is my eyesight blurred, but no ' tis surely he ! What strange things do happen in this mighty world of ours ! But I must not monopolize fore ' er the harsher sex, (You see they never get a chance to occupy the floor) And sure enough the next that passes in my view Is the Princess Hockenheimer n6e Helen Stark

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THE DEBATER. CLASS SONG. MAX EVERETT EATON. Dear classmates, tbe time of parting Has come, as come it uill. To malse our hearts the sadder, Oar cup of grief to fill. As ve stand here nou tl)is even, liJitt) no tI)OQgf)t of strife or fear. We have the vorld before as, r ehind as, — memories dear, I ehind US ' — memories clear. Ah . ' Y s, those recollections Of stud , uorls and plaif, Will never be forgotten, As ve tread life ' s steep hard ua . Those thoughts of school-da pleasures, Those hours without a care. Will help us as ve struggle Will maHe our pathua s fair, Will mal e our pathways fuir. (i)e Ihanl our teachers Isindl , For guidance ever true, Por aiding our dull footsteps. As ve stumbled on anev. And ma our trust be alva s In Him uho Hnoveth all ii)i)0 loveth us his children. Who helps both great and small, Who helps both great and small. CLASS RECEPTION. On the night following graduation the preparations for the reception are the class of 1907 holds the usual recep- well advanced. The invitations have tion. The committee is as follows : been engraved, the arrangements for Ralph R. Coombs, President, seating completed (after some difficulty). Miss Helen Stark, the ushers selected from the school Max E. Eaton, alumni, the orchestra secured, the eater- Howard Spear, ing contract awarded, the chairs ob- Miss Mildred G. Parker, tained, and all the other minor details Adelbert Purrington, fully carried out. The members of the Miss Jessie Maxwell. class hope to make this last evening one During the last few weeks the com- of the most enjoyable of their school mittee has been working steadily, and life.

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THE DEBATER. Who has married one of royal line. I see a busy city street, with buildings high and grand With many signs and offices, on both sides up and down, Bnt one sign in particular attracts my wondering eye It reads. Miss Mary Dignan, Elocutionist. Beside this is a store with plate glass windows large, And automobiles and runabouts can easily be seen While o ' er the door in letters gold, I read A Purrington. I gaze again into the crystal ' s mystic depths And lo ! I see a daily paper open wide (The Boston Herald edited by Harry Sparks) I read the striking headlines, imagine my surprise On seeing, Boston Lawyer Wins his Case, Murphy moves the Court to Tears, Jury Disagree. And again, Cleveland wins the Series Home run of Symonds saves the Game and reading on I learn that Coombs, Low, and Buxton all are playing mighty ball With Chicago Nationals, but I am not surprised For this is simple evolution from the kind of ball they played With the Wakefield High School Nine not long ago. The page is turned ; I see again a name that ' s most familiar Horace Lee, Well known Author marries leading prima donna And under this to my astonishment I read the startling news Of how a seven-master under Capt. Harold Collins With a cargo of ripe lemons, runs aground near Wonderland. The social page attracts in turn my keen and wandering eye I learn that Mildred Parker (only it isn ' t Parker now) Is President of the Woman ' s Rights and Woman ' s Suffrage Club. The scene next turns to one of rustic loveliness I see my old friend Mansfield ploughing up the meadow lot Near him are three ladies with microscopes immense Examining closely bottle flies, plants, and insects rare, Ruth Parker, Nellie Bailey, with their friend Miss Lucy Noyes Now studying in the summer before taking their degrees. But who ' s this fellow yonder running ' round throughout the trees He seems to be on the lookout for birds, — but birds of species one — I do believe its Spear still hunting after Hawkcs. For the last time as I gaze into the crystal wondrous orb I see a crowd of students clustered ' round a platform high From which, in accents loud and gestures rusticated A youth is reading from a pap r long and weak. The crowd is jeering, hooting, throwing vegetables and such, But still the youth, in rapture, continues on his way A mighty surge, an onward rush, the youth that was is not, And as they bear his bleeding form from off the gory field- I look in horror at that form and recognize — my own. Max Everett Eaton, ' 07.