Waukegan High School - Annual W Yearbook (Waukegan, IL)

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succession of scenes formed before me and I saw what each and every one of my classmates was doing. First, I looked into a ward in a large hospital. A sweet faced nurse was moving softly about. Looking at her closely, I saw it was Bernice West. She bent over a man lying on one of the cots, and I heard some one say, That is the world's champion diver. He dived from too high a bridge last time and as a result is here. As Bernice moved aside I saw the man's face, and it was Emil Streed. A large church now appeared, the minister was pleading with his congregation to lead better lives. From his own wild youth he understood the fascination of sin, but he had learned that ' 'The wages of sin is death. As he pleaded I noticed something famil- iar about him. Yes, it was Rev. Arthur Wright. Our Arthur, a doctor of divinity-well, strange things will happen. In the minister's pew, looking admiringly at her husband and hanging on his every word, was Jennie Hanna. The church faded from my sight and I saw a beautiful lake, on the banks of which was an humble fisherman's cottage, but an air of contentment rested on the place. As I looked, a boat came sailing into the harbor and up to the landing. A woman ran from the house to meet the returning fisherman, and when they turned and walked slowly toward the house, behold! the happy fisherman and his wife were Paul Barnes and Ellen Streed. Again the scene changed. Before me was a large room, brilliantly lighted. Here many men were gathered, excitement ran high. In the center of the room, seated at a table eagerly engaged in a game, were the champion gamblers of the West! And there among them, oh, how it grieves me to tell it, were Christie Hollstein and Walter Brean. Who would have thought that our innocent schoolmates would come to this? A far different place next came to view. It was a church- yard. Here among the graves was one on which sweet tiowers grew. At its head was a large white stone and on it was engraved: Charles Kingsburv. The Good Die Young. I have always heard that tombstones lie, and now I believe it. The graveyard changed to a busy streetg down it came a richly-attired lady, and I heard someone say, There comes the richest woman in the United States. There is no knowing how much Rebecca Rosenblum is worth. -7-

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C Ia-.snr Prophecy. ETHEL DUNN. 3 mates, have imposed upon me, is a very hard one. jg How I, who was not a prophetess or who had made .SSE no study of the mystic sciences, could raise the veil of the future and peer into the darkness of the beyond, I could not conceive. The hopelessness of my task filled me with terror, it haunted me sleeping and waking, I could not get away from it. While in this state of mind, I received an invitation to attend a meeting of wise men, men who had dug deeply into the mys- teries of the knowledge of the East. Among those present was a man of majestic mien and presence. All bowed in deference to him, and they called him master. My Hxed gaze drew his attention, and the mysterious man approached me. I felt a feeling of awe, of reverence, come over me. My daughter, he said in a deep, musical voice, U you are unhappy. What cloud has come over one so young? 'l hen almost unconsciously I told him of my task. U Rash youths, he exclaimed, 44 that they should seek to know what the future has in store for them. Sorrow, as well as happiness, comes to all. It is better not to know, yet, as they have appointed you to this task, follow me, and fear not. He led me away into an apartment so strange that for a moment I hesitated to enter. Its walls and ceilings were seem- ingly an entire representation of the heavens, yet the moon, planets and stars seemed to stand out as if nothing supported them. My mysterious guide motioned me to a luxurious couch. Mechanically I obeyed. No sooner had I sunk into its soft embrace than a dreamy feeling possessed me. The Whole room, moon. planets and stars, seemed to revolve with incredible swiftness, carrying me with it. Then as if possessed of some mysterious clairvoyant power, a if' wig HE task of writing this prophecy which you, my class- il ..5-

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I now saw a large hall in which was being held a great con- vention of women's clubs, and there on the platform among the speakers were two whom I took to be men, as they were dressed in masculine attire, but on looking closer I saw they were Mabel Chittenden and Allie Goodrich. They were the leaders of the new crusade for dress reform. Next appeared a court room. A divorce case was being tried. Judge Gesekus was giving his decision: 4' Insomuch as I regard this case as merely an advertising scheme on the part of the plaintiff, I refuse to give the ballet dancer, May Carman, a divorce from her husband, the actor, Martin Neal. Even the country was changed now. I saw a strange tropical place. Great trees grew in clusters, and here in their midst was a queer little hut, in front of which sat Missionary McKay. On Sundays, the Reverend Ray teaches the savages his favorite hymns, such as Jesus, Lover of My Soul, and Nearer, My God, to Thee. On week days he trades with them and cheats them in a truly wonderful manner. Indeed, he has been so suc- cessful in his schemes that in a year or two he will be able to re- turn a millionaire. As our reverend friend Q25 passed from view there appeared a large city, and here before me was the orator of our class, Frank Bowen. He had reached a point where his eloquence was of great avail to him. All our expectations were realized. He was not in the Senate. Oh, no. .His wondrous talent was not confined to such narrow quarters. But here in front of a large building he stood, and in a loud voice called the attention of the passersfby to him, and what he cried was: This way to the grandest dime mu- seum on earth. Step in and see the show. Only ten cents. Yes, Frank had reached sublime heights-a dime museum barker. Near him, selling tickets and encouraging him, was his devoted wife, Olive Beecher. As the scene began to fade I still heard him and he was crying: Step in and see the world's fattest woman, Mademoiselle Price, and Madame Harriet Hallowell, the human ostrich, who will eat anything, lead pencils preferred. A pleasant green valley now came before me. Here was a great gathering of hoboes from all over the country. Their king was addressing them, and in spite of dirt and rags there was something familiar about him. A ringing cheer followed some ..3..