West Side High School - Legenda Yearbook (Saginaw, MI)

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where men in leather aprons are busily plying their tasks. The bril- liantly painted sign outside reads, Take Your Shoes to Swarthout When They ' re Wornout. A customer enters a corner drug store in the down town district. A white coated boy appears almost instantly. He takes the slip of paper on which the prescription is written, to the druggist, Warren Thomson, that it may be compounded by him. In Edward lire ' s fashionable clothing store a lady is fitting on sable coats of elegance and beauty. The owner walks in just then, and recognized this customer as Ruth Schoeneberg, an old classmate. In a little furnished, chintz-curtained cottage by the sea, Cali- fornia excursionists may prepare their own meals. This unusual plan has pleased lovers of novelty, and brought Ella Turnbull a neat little fortune. Great varieties of commercial apparatus are laid out, preparatory to putting into operation the great and new invention of Milton Wager, electrical engineer, who has accomplished his end after long years of work with complicated electrical machinery. A niftily dressed young man enters the office of a prominent busi- ness man. He makes himself at home, and immediately begins talking about the merits of his company ' s insurance policy in contradistinction to that of anyone else ' s company. He is Herbert Wettlaufer. A severe-looking woman, dressed in stiff, black silk, stands watch- ing the dancers at a public party. Her brows are drawn in a frown, and her eyes are narrowed, as she sees a couple moving off in a manner of which she does not approve. She is Alma Weichmann, supervisor of dancing. Again broadway appears ,and the flashing colored light bulbs over the popular shop owned by Elmo Wilkinson spell the words, Learn the Latest Slang in Five Minutes. In a large kitchen stands Lloyd Wiltse in white baker ' s cap and apron, his sleeves rolled above his elbows — for he kneads the dough. Behind the window of a cashier ' s office is Erma Wiltse busily em- ployed in the service of a great dry goods store. Manikin after manikin appears, dressed in smart clothes of the latest fashion. Gracefully they glide across the polished floor of the spacious, well lighted, Parisian shop, scented with flowers and green with palms. One after another they stop and turn slowly, to display gleaming satins, lustrous silks, or handsome furs, then pass on down the hall. As the last of the line disappears a smile of satisfaction crosses the face of Arthur Witham, as he thinks of the success of this afternoon ' s display. Rolls of paper, pails of paste, and huge brushes, litter the canvas protected floor of a magnificent room in an aristocratic home. The tall paper hanger, reaching easily even to the ceiling with his long handled brush, and doing all his work without the aid of a step ladder, is Clarence Wilkinson, noted for his efficiency. The dim light from a street lamp scarcely reveals the figure of a man who lurks in the shadows on the corner. As he steals unnoticed down the dark street, following the two men he has been furtively watching, no one would ever suspect that he is that keen detective, Enoch Yates. A woman, slender of build, and light haired, walks from one cabinet to another, admiring the designs which her husband has planned for them. She is Ottelia Zorn, the happy wife of a former schoolmate. The seniors of a high school class are working to produce their yearly magazine. They are greatly aided in their labor by a little

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Plambeck, with the light hatchet she carries, cuts little grooves for steps in the icy surface. At last, the hazardous ascent accomplished, they pause on the summit to gaze in profound admiration at the view that lies stretched before them. Then, rested, they descend, looking backward to catch one last glimpse of the peaks, rosy-tinted and glorious with the sunset. In the spacious grounds adjoining a beautiful mansion is a lovely youthful woman in jaunty sport costume, holding in her hand a tennis racquet as she poses for her adoring artist husband. The classic pro- file he paints, the one that has so delighted the magazine publishers, is that of Ann Powell. In a small, foreign, second hand store, Carrie Purchase is buying, to add to her collection of curios, an old jet necklace which the Queen of Sheba may have worn. A girl, heavily bundled in the furs of her aviatrix uniform, steps quickly from the plane in which she has just landed. Friends and acQuaintances rush up to her and congratulate her on her safe return, for a trip to the south po ; uy aeroplane is a feat that has been ac- complished by no one save Dorothea Reickle. In a sunny nursery, - x re plump little rabbits chase each othei in endless succession a.r ad the wall paper borders, a diminutive mother contentedly rod her doll to sleep, while her baby brother plays with his engine, or t. inbers about the cushioned window seat Their governess, Lillian K isner, glances from her novel just in time to avert a ruinous snip oi the blunt scissors with which little Don is about to fringe the curiam. Lying at anchor, in the deep blue waters just off the palm-fringed coast of Florida, is a handsome pleasure yacht, belonging to a weathy resident. The uniformed captain, who stands at attention as the owner approaches, is Joeseph Robertson. An old woman is sitting on the doorstep of a tumbled-down shack with a pile of nerbs, which she is sortmg, in her lap. In the meantime, she mumbles to herself some unintelligible words. Over the door is posted tne sign, ' Evelyn Richter, Quack Doctor. Junior Rockwood enters a large office and goes immediately to the Postal Clerk ' s desk. He seats himself and begins looking over his letters. Upon reading one his face breaks into a smile, and he gives a long whistle of surprise and pleasure, for in the letter he is informed that his work has beer so satisfactory that he will receive an increase in salary. While on her European travels, Grechen Roethke lingers long under the sunny skies of Italy. There she may be seen ardently admiring all the historical spots, and gazing thoughtfully cf a bust of Columbus (on a pedestal) . The face seems familiar to her. Perhaps it is that of some one she has met on her travels; so she does not ask the question, Is he dead? A young man walks about a huge theater, pointing out to the decorators the points which should be changed. He is Walter Roeser, supervising the remodeling of the Royal Palms Theater, in Chicago. A school-room appears, filled with mischievous oungsters. One glances up slyly from his book to tell some childish secret to his neigh- bor. The voice that is raised in admonition is that of Dorothy Schendal, teacher in this rural school. The morning sunlight filters through the many colored panes of the church window and falls upon the sincere upturned face of the pastor, Russel Shepherd, whose reverend, impassioned words move the hearts of his listeners. A steady stream of customers passes in and out of a repair shop

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book, to which they refer constantly. As they turn the pages, long lists of the possible professions of all ages, past, present, and future, an aid to the inspired writers of prophecy, are revealed ; and in an- other part of this book are myriads of quotations to facilitate the tasks of the name committee. On the cover are the names of the compilers, Ella Haines and Catherine Rice. Then the scene becomes dim, and I find myself staring out into the desert. After the magic panorama, the wondrous vision had faded into the gray dawn, as the waning moon heralded the approach of the sun. Sleep was now useless, moreover, I could not have slept had I desired to, so awed was I by the actual revelation of this Arabic fantasy. I rose and hurried back to the hotel. My last look at the Sphinx found her still the same — wise, awful and immovably silent, as she sat facing the rising sun. ELLA HAINES, CATHERINE RICE. A LUCUBRATION No prodigies of learning we. Nor savants brimming o ' er with knowledge. But simply sitters at the feet Of those, who speed us on to college. We studied, and we burned the oil. Of midnight, winking lucubration; We listened patient, and we toiled To get a decent education. How well we fared, let teachers tell. Those tireless, tearful inculcators; They set the pace that we essayed, Happy to be their imitators. Now that the end ' s in sight, and we. Mid hectic hope and expectation, A backward glance cast to the bench. Where oft we sat in trepidation. Strange feelings, mixed and fitful stir Our hearts to deepest consternation When turning o ' er the might have been Of study, stern, and concentration. Well, well, ' tis done! the die is cast, The future waits our exploration. The teacher ' s leaven yet may work, A wide and needed reformation. Good-bye dear hearts — not au revoir — The trail turns to the last semester; Life ' s face we see at last is stern; Farewell the fool and ancient jester.