Wapakoneta High School - Retrospect Yearbook (Wapakoneta, OH)

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SENIOR NINETEEN

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 CLASS OF 1913 HARRY SMITH. One Year German, One Year Latin, Com mcrcial Course. “Strong men have wills. Here is a lad of friendly qualities if he is rightly approached. Harry intends to be- come an electrician sometime. He has play- ed a quiet and reserved role. SARAH WALLER. Four Years Latin and Two ears Com- mercial. “Let the world slide: let the world go, A fig for care, a fig for woe. A synonym of vigor and ardent delight in all amusements. Always pleasant, some- what careless of minor cares, but cautious and particular in those of greater signifi- cance. MELVIN1 STEIN BAUGH, wo Years Latin and Two Years Com- mercial. 1'hese are the hands whose steady labor hnn» r he peasants food, the golden pomp of king's.” Melvin is a rather shy, bashful and hack- ard youth, lie often smiles, but seldom uighs. Melvin is especially shy when in ic presence of a fair maiden. waid WOEHLER. Three Years German and One i ear Latin. “ Beausc 1 will not do the wrong to mistrust any. 1 will do myself the right to trust none. 1 will live a bachelor. Waid is a cheerful talker and always has a heartv greeting for everyone he meets lie is somewhat of a business man, and no doubt his cheerful attitude toward everyone is ot great assistance to this very important line.

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Class History CLASS OF 1913 The sun was making an unusually gorgeous departure; unrivaled crimson, gold and saffron hues o'erspread the western sky. And the evening light was mellowed by the soft glow as 1 sat trying to write a history of our Class. The events of our four short years together seemed very insignfi- cant and uninteresting. I had come to the conclusion that we were a very dull class indeed. So with my eyes fixed on the glori- ous west, I sat there and mused. But all at once startlingly near I heard, “Yours is a truly wonderful class. If you do not be- lieve it, follow me. I vigorously rubbed my eyes to see if 1 were really awake. I even got up and walked about to make sure. Yet, while I was convinced 1 was not sleeping, I felt myself rising upward. Although at first I was quite frightened, the feeling soon became delightful. 1 found that I was rid- ing in a little chariot with the daintiest of fairies beside me. A chariot so small and a fairy so sprightly, that I am certain that it must have been Queen Mab and her airy outfit. Imagine my joy when 1 saw we were making for those grand, golden kingdoms in the clouds, of which I had so lately been dreaming. Now I was prepared fot all sorts of strange, wonderful tilings. Vet as we drew nearer familiar faces and forms appeared: at first they seemed moving about but as we entered a beautifully lighted room that seemed no room at all, so free from confine- ment was it. I saw that they were merely carved on the wall; that it was in some marvelous way the light shone on them that they seemed in action and alive. “Now,” said the little fairy, this is what we call the Freshman Galiery. And sure enough as I looked about I saw above the entrance, “The Star Freshman Class.” That was the very way, I remembered, in which Miss Reinhard, one of our first Eng- lish teachers, bad christened us, when we entered Illume High. Here, on these walls,” said she, “you will find a panel for every day of the Freshman year. 1 ran wild with delight! There we were, seventy-four of us in all. Again I see how timid and bashful some of us were. Nevertheless there was an air and deter- mination about us that raised our class above all previous Freshman classes. Here, on this panel, we are in Miss Howell's Algebra. 1 see her pleasant smile as she writes on the blackboard the long list of those who had perfect test papers. Another day she is tell- ing us.that we have great talent but the one fault of our class is, that we lack, “stick-to- it-ive-ness.” There, in Miss Reinhard’s room, we excel in composition. She praises us for our originality and superior intellect. Me distinguish ourselves in writing poetry. I am not half through looking when my good fairy reminds me that we have three more rooms to visit, so we hasten on to the second. 1 remember in this year our troubles be- gan. Our Mathematics teacher, Miss Fergu- son, failing in health, had to leave us. So I find us reciting some days to Mr. Reynolds; some, not at all, and then again to Mr. Bowsher, who taught us the last month of school. Here, on one panel, the splendid camps and bridges, made by us and so high- ly praised by Miss Conrath, are represented. In the Junior Gallery some of the pan- els are hazy and clouded, one is bordered in green, just the shade of green paint; others are covered with dark, gloomy curtains. The last 1 do not understand, but my com- panion raises the curtain and lo! they are the days of our Junior Class Meetings. I have just time to see that in one, ballots have been cast and there is to be no Junior- Senior reception. The curtain falls. His- tory is fact; all must be recorded. “Yet,” said the knowing little fairy, “are not the greatest histories of the world of men and of the people, who have just such incidents in their lives?” TWENTY