Western High School - Westward Ho Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

Text from Pages 1 - 116 of the 1925 volume:

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Curriculum Shorthand QC-reggl Office Training Typewriting Spelling English Correspondence Penmanship Accounting Mathematics Rapid Calculation Commercial Law Business Administration Secretarial Studies DAY AND NIGHT SESSIONS THE ENTIRE YEAR CALL, WRITE OR PHONE FOR COPY OF NEW CATALOG PHONE, PLAZA 5626 itcl1ell8z orwig WATCHES-DIAMONDS-J EWELRY We guarantee everything in our stock. Should there be a fault of any kind in anything that comes from here the matter will be adjusted to your entire satisfaction- - quickly and graciously. :-: TIME PA YIWEN TS 405 N. HOWARD ST. BALTIMORE, MARYLAND .471 Afniiiikg ll A .. :::,, ia---:v , ll1Alll', '10 au! llllll X x ix X .I 4: 'ina X 4 wi 2- , Frontispiece-Miss Hattie J. Adams. . Poems-Marjorie Grafflin, '25 .... . . . . . . The Maker of Gods-Margaret Potts, '25 ..... Which?-Illustration-Janet Whitson, '25 .... Taylorsville, Maryland-Frances Hinlcey, '26. . Pardon-lda Nusinow, '25 .... . . . Clytie-Lee Rosen, '25 .... ........... . The Material Side of Graduation-lllustration- Sadie Rice, '25 ...................... The Homecoming-Blanche Rosner, '25 ...... Among Us Westernites-lllustration-Sadie Rice, '25 ........ ......... .... 9 Home-Dorothy Leineweher, '27 . . . 10 Who's Who in Western .... ll Editorials ............... . . . 17 Book Reviews-Leila Kirkness, '25. . 18 illustration-Eleanor Brandy, '26 . . . 19 Western World .... ......... . 22 Assemblies--Jessie C. Wolman, Club Notes-Jessie C. Wolman, 23 Athletics-Helen Fawcett, '2s. . 24 Western Vignettes-Sadie Rice, Question Box-Helen Mattoon, 28 Short Cuts to Literary Fame. . .'Af-fm?-'AHWQ f f M fi? '5 '-'- we ' ei? lvliss Hattie Josephine Adams ISS ADAMS, who is the honorary member of this year's graduating class, is that motherly-looking I lady on the second Hoorf' as one Freshman was heard to describe her. And, like the old woman who lived in a shoe, she has so many children she doesnit know what to do! She has just exactly four hundred and eighteen girls, and each single blessed one of them requires a little of Miss Adams's time and attention. What with cheer practices, and dance committees, and picture com- mittees, and commencement committees, and heaven knows how many other committee meet- ings, Miss Adams has precious little time to spare. It was easier by far to get the Golden Fleece, than it was to get ten minutes of Miss Adams's valuable time for so inconsequential a thing as an interview. Monday? No, I've got to go to cheer practice. Tuesday? I'm going to speak to the picture committee. Wednesday? I've got a fac- ulty meeting. Thursday? Sorry, I simply must go to cheer practice. F riday? I'm going to Car- lin's with the girls. And so on and on and on. In desperation I asked, Have you anything to do in the morning before school ? Yes, she answered calmly. I've got to make my bed! But for once she neglected her duty, and met me in the wee small hour in the morn- ing before nine o'clock. In spite of the work and trouble which the honorary membership involves, Miss Adams' has enjoyed it. She has enjoyed being with the girls perhaps almost as much as the girls have enjoyed being with her. My one hope, she says, is that I may influence some few girls as I was in- fluenced by one of my teachers at the Eastern High School, to whom I owe an enormous debt of gratitude for any success that I may have achieved. Miss Adams thinks that all of her four hundred and eighteen girls are perfectly lovely. She thinks the girl of today has a lot more initiative and is a whole lot more resource- ful than the girl of my day. She says that the honorary membership has not been such hard work for her because she has had so much help and cooperation. The girls themselvesf, Miss Adams says, have been so resourceful and so capable that they have done almost everything themselves. I have been encouraged and helped by the teachers in the school, and any success that I may have had as honorary member is due very largely to the help and encouragement of the other teachers. And the class of 1925 wants to add that if she were helped by the heavenly angels themselves, she could not have done better. Miss Adams was born in Baltimore. She ad- mits having been graduated from the Eastern High School, but then she evens matters by say- ing it was always her ambition to teach at West- ern! Miss Adams was always fond of studying languages, of which she learned only six or seven. In fact, she says, I am so fond of them that I often speak all seven at one time ! Miss Ad- ams has studied at Goucher College and at the johns Hopkins University, where she got her de- gree. She still studies Spanish during her sum- mer vacations at Middlebury, Vermont, where she meets only Spanish natives and professors. She never hears or speaks a word of English all the while she is there-the only thing she per- mits herself to do in English isvdream. Her sum- mers when spent in Middlebury are quite differ- ent from her winters at Western, where her life is just one struggle to hear less English and a little Spanish! - Miss Adams says of teaching: I began my career as a teacher in an English-German school in one of the foreign neighborhoods. I had all classes of children from four to fifteen years old, and I enjoyed it so much that I used to wish I was dead every time I passed a cemetery! In my teaching experience I have taught every grade in the primary schools and all four years of high school, and so I ought to know human nature by this time. And she certainly does! Among other' things about human nature, Miss Adams knows that girls like to have their class- room work enlivened with a little music. Miss Adams has always been musical-she could sing before she could walk. Her voice, her classes vow, is heavenly, and she treats them to a song when- ever they are especially good. At these times the neighborhood birds are said to congregate on the window-sills and listen in raptures-learning their lessons, as it were. Miss Adams has never known how to dance, in fact, she has never approved of dancing. How- ever, she did not know what else to let her girls fl I0 WESTWARD HO do, and as the girls never suggested anything else themselves, she had to let them dance! Dr. Becker says that Miss Adams is always losing things. If she were a man, Miss Adams declares, she would have become a locksmith or a burglar-she has become so proficient in open- ing locks without a key! Thank heaven, she was born a girl-there are too many bandits as it is, and not enough teachers like Miss Adams. And the class of 1925 can safely assure Miss Adams that there is one key that she can never lose, and that is the key to the heart of every single girl who marched up the aisle at the Senior Assembly of 1925. Blanche Rosner, '25 POGITIS MARJORIE. GRAFFLIN, '25, FRUSTRA See how the rosy dawn's kissed the tall trees And tinted the How'rs as they sway in the breeze? Wake! for the robin is merrily singing Of all of the joy that the morning is bringing. Hear the far chimes from the steeples that rise All bathed in the fire of the sunset's bright skies? Wake! For the twilight is silently creeping To shed its cool balm on the world that lies sleeping. Feel the deep peace of the soft summer night Where the dreamy moon clasps the still earth in its light ? Oh, wake! for the gentle wind murmurs its story, And stars dot the blue robe of evening in glory. DISILLUSION Pink rosebuds underneath the lamp's bright glow, Serene in all your gentle loveliness, You think the lamp the sun and joyously Open your golden hearts for its caress: But Finding just the cold, harsh glare instead, You droop upon your stems, your beauty fled. Poor flowers! l could tell you of some souls That, burning with a love of golden fire, Turn all their striving toward some gilded Hume, And when at length they reach for their desire, Find it but dross, and, stung with blinding pain, Bow their crushed heads nor lift them up again. THE LADY OF THE BLOSSOMS She stood beneath the cherry blooms: The flowers kissed her hair: They fluttered to the ground and made A fairy carpet there. l wished that l could comfort her: l knew her heart was sad. l gave a crimson rose to her, To show the love l had. With quivering lip, she dropped it where The fallen blossoms lay. l saw the tears shine in her eyes, Then turned, and fled away. rllxe Maker O Go S MARGARET Ports, '25 T was the first day of Spring, the first glorious day, more than that, it was Marian Vane's birth- y 'I day, and 4Marian Vane was half a hundred. !'--4-'-- -- Fifty! The gifts lay as she had piled them, a neat little heap on her dress- ing table. The square velvet-lined box was there, with its bracelet of sapphires, Clement's present, pendants and sheer silk hosiery, from friends, a negligee that she would never wear, satin, hand-painted, expensive, from Aliciag a silver bag from Paul and his wife, a book or two, a vial of a French perfume. Marian touched them, contemplating, they meant that she was fifty, It seemed such a conclusive sort of age, as if she were old at last, and must acknowledge it. And I am, she said philosophically, but her eyes went wistfully to her reflection. Her daughters said that she did not look her age, but she knew that she did. The hair that she swept off her face into its sedate knot was al- most pure white: only the slender line of her brows remained to tell that it had been brown. Her skin was pleasantly firm and wholesomely colored, but the wrinkles, eye and mouth and neck, were damning. She was a plump wom- an, too, but her plumpness was pleasing and matronly and not unsuited to her height. Yes, and she confessed it, fifty she looked, no more, perhaps, but all of fifty. She chuckled at herself, and forgot her re- flections. The sheaf of mail, in the main con- gratulatory cards, dwindled rapidly as the pa- per knife slit envelope after envelope. There was one letter, fat and travel worn, that she tucked into the pocket of her morning dress. Best till last-dear old Nan ! The telephone rang. Alicia's even cool voice: Mother? Congratulations, darling! How do you feel? , Quite fine, thank you, Marian answered, wondering why Alicia always inquired about her excellent health. And, Alicia, the negli- gee is beautiful. You shouldn't have sent me anything so costly. It is far too good for an old dowdy creature like me. . Alicia laughed conventionally. You dear silly! I'm glad if it pleased you. VVhat did Dad give you ? The most beautiful bracelet, Marian said, that I've ever seen, all sapphires and dia- monds. You'll love it. Paul and Martha sent a bag. Oh, everything's beautiful! I've quite exhausted my adjectives, you must come early, dear, and see for yourself. I shall, Alicia promi-sed. Bertie and Phyl- lis have something for their Gramma, too. You aren't going out this afternoon? Then I'll be over about four. Goodbye, darling, and be good to yourself.-Oh! What about Lotis? You didn't tell me- Lotis dashed out of here very mysteriously this morning, said Marian. She has something marvellous in store, I can see by her eyes. Probably she's saving her surprise till dinner, you'll see. At four, then! Goodbye, Alicia. She sat by the phone for perhaps five min- utes, reflecting on daughters in general and Alicia Pendleton in particular. Alicia was very like the capable, cool Clement, at twenty-eighty as much mistress of herself, her husband, her two babies, and her big house as was Marian, in all the experience of-fifty. Lotis, now- Nothing quite accounts for Lotis, Mrs. Vane thought, and there was a gladness in her throat. The telephone called her again. Marian I my dear? I Yes, Clement? She knew it was Clement. She knew his round smooth barytone and his easy laughter. Yes-I wanted to tell you-you haven't made any arrangement for this evening, have you ? No, except the dinner, that's only the chil- dren. Fine! I've tickets for this new French thing they say is so good. Alicia and Charles and Paul and Martha can play bridge, and Lotis will be off somewhere, probably, with young Emmond or some such. It'll be all right, won't it?,' Lovely, she said, weary of the adjective. Yes, delightful. . . yes. . . Goodbye, dear. It was good of Clement to make the little sacrifice for her, for she knew his club dinner had been scheduled. For thirty years Clement had been just that good: never a moment, never a word of unkindliness or lack of consideration. He had given her all the dear things she was ll I2 WESTWARD HO fond of-her shining cars, her big white house, comfort, position, luxuries. She looked about her and could find nothing that was not of his giving, to the very lace at her throat and the rings on her fingers. Proud she was of her doctor son and her capable Alicia, these 'so typical children of Clement, proud of their suc- cess and their smart establishments and their cleverness, and proud in the knowledge that it was Clement to whom they owed most in the world. Of Lotis the Fair she was passing proud, her youngest daughter and the incom- prehensible, elusive and charming and unfath- omed. It was time for lunch, over which she daw- dled. Since Alicia and Paul had left, and her servant force had increased, there was little for her to do, and she missed the old house- wifely duties. There were still some market lists and menus and directions without end, but she had lost the dearer and more intimate occu- pations. While she was lingering over her salad, Lotis dashed in, very much out of breath and a little excited. I've brought your present, Mamma. I was so afraid they wouldn't have it readylu Marian gkissed her. Thank you, dear. It must be wonderful, you're just glowing. She unwrapped the parcel, smiling and expectant. A book! Oh-Lotis-not yours-- But it was. The letters looked up at 'her, winking goldly. The Tavern of Dreams, and Other Poems. Lotis Vane. , Tears, absurd and typically maternal, swam in her eyes. She said, Lotis, honey! and mopped at them with her handkerchief. Lotis laughed. Oh, you sweetheart! Then you're really pleased? Wasn't it noble of me to keep it secret so long? Course Dad knows, and 'Lecy and Haul, and we were so frightfully afraid we couldn't get it on time. Don't 'cry about it, Mistress Marian, they aren't that bad! You're happy? Good ! 'Tm wonderfully happy, Marian said, al- most too happy to bear it. And so proud of you, daughter. You're going to be home with me this afternoon ? IJotis screwed up her mouth. No-honest, I'm awfully sorry! But you know there's an afternoon concert, and I promised Freddy Em- mond. . . Shouldn't I've? Oh, I'm horrible! I'll 'phone him- Don't! No, I don't need you at all. Please don't, Lotis.. Perhaps I'd rather read here all by myself, who knows? Do go, dear. But I humor him too much, anyhow, Lotis objected. He's taking me to Violet's dance tonight, you know. That's all right. He's a nice sort. You like him very much, don't you P Lotis laughed a little-odd, happy laughter. Yes, I do rather. He's sweet. Y'know, he reminds me of Dad. . . Mamma ! Yes, Lotis ? Dad's awfully influential, isn't he? He's infiuential, yes. But -she looked roguish- not so influ- ential as you are with him-. Do something for me, Mamma? Dearest, you know, if I can. Thank you so! It isn't really much. You know Mr. Granger is going to transfer Fred- give him the San Francisco branch, and Freddy doesn't want to go. Can't blame him, can you? All his interests are here. And I know if Dad were just to say to Mr. Granger, 'I think that young Emmond is valuable. Why don't you send F otherill to the coast and let Mr. Emmond have his rnanagership P'-why, Mr. Granger would. He takes Dad's advice in everything anyhow, Fred says. So if you'd suggest it to Dad-would you, Mamma ? Marian looked grave. It's rather round-about, isn't it, Lotis? Mr. Emmond asks you to ask me to ask your father to ask Mr. Granger. W'hy doesn't he ask Dad himself ? Because, Lotis protested, a little quickly, he hardly even knows Dad! Besides, he didn't ask me to say anything about it. It isn't much, Mam- ma. Mr. Fotherill would really like to go, too, he told Freddy so. And you F Well, I shouldn't like Fred to go. He's a splendid sport and lots of fun to go about with, and so patient. I'd miss him if he went, yes. Don't you think Dad would want to? Is that it? I don't know, Lotis. Marian sighed, and smiled again. It's you I'm interested in. Are you-in love with that youngster ? Llotis's color rose a trifle. Oh, I thought you had that on your mind. Course not, Jealous! We're only the best of friends, that's all. I feel the same about his leaving as about another girl's. And I thought I would do him a good turn, if I could. I'll ask Dad myself if you don't want to, but he's more apt to do it for you. Couldn't you, Mamma? Oh, I do think you could! If it means so much, dear, I shall. Marian's hands moved vaguely towards the sugar bowl, in whose silver plumpness she was gazing as into a crystal. A bit of the past Hoated by, and left a vagrant small smile about her mouth .... Why, Marian, I do believe you're falling in love with him! WESTWARD HO I3 Nonsense! Nonsense! I do think Clements awfully nice, but, goodness, I'ni not in love with anybody! VVe're only the best of friends, that's all. . . . . Thank you, Lotis said, and squeezed her hand, recalling her. She dropped a lump of sugar briskly into the tea and looked up. Don't mind, dear. Do you have to dress? It's a bit late, I fancy, and it takes you such ages. I'm so proud of you, Lotis! And the little book- another grandchild! She felt the tears coming again. There-kiss me-run along. Dinner at seven. I'll see you before you go, shan't I? Of course, said Lotis, going. She stood in the doorway a moment, slender and tall, smiling a little, her dark eyes dreaming. She was the dark-eyed one of them all, and the only blonde. Her hair was rather green-gold than yellow, straight and satiny, looped tight across her ears. No wonder Fred Emmond was losing his level young head about her. A nice boy, Emmond. Everyone said the same. Marian rose with a jerk. She was hearing rath- er too much of that nice boy of late. Then she smiled at herself: she supposed it was the way of mothers, when their daughters began to drift. Alicia now-but capable, common-sense Alicia had been so different, turning always more to Clement than to her mother. She returned to her own chamber, and to her little heap of gifts. The Tavern of Dreams was not laid with the common lot. Marian sat down at the window and opened the quaint little vol- ume almost reverently. The frail bits of rhyme sang up at her. Her breath caught. Oh, they're wonderful! Not only because of Lotis. I'm sure they're really art-yes-as if I didn't know! The little spark's ther-e: the publishers saw it: the re- viewers'll see it-future! Why, my baby has all the world in her two pretty hands ! She was past the maudlin sentimentality of tears now: as much critic as mother, she read quickly and intel- ligently, weighing values. The poems were snatches written during the later college days, merry little lyrics or sadder ones, all touched un- deniably with the little spark of true poetry. And I once thought I wrote verses. Marian thought. jingles! She looked out at the pleas- ant, fresh. First-day-of-spring world, Haunting her triumph at it. She's mv child, you know. She laughed. Going to make me share, aren't vou? All right: take her: but she was mine first! The world looked back, bland and amiable. Downstairs the bell rang. Marian heard Emmond asking for her daughter. His voice was pleasing, deen and easv and-well fed, somehow: as if'its owner were bound to get on well with Creation. Lotis, in the next room, called, just a minute, F red. We're going to be scandalously late, Emmond replied. Cou1dn t step on it a little, could you P All ready now, said Lotis, and flicked a kiss in at Marian's door as she whisked by. She was no more than a Hash of appl-e-green satin and vast hat. I-ler mother watched them drive away, ban- tering each other and laughing youthfully. I hope he appreciates that he's racing off with a favorite of the gods, Marian reflected, -the Mus-es, anyhow. I-Ier hand struck her pocket. Why, Nan's let- ter! I'd almost forgotten. It was dingy, and bore a French stamp 5 she tested its weight approv- ingly. Nice one, this time. A careless hand sprawled across many sheets. Marian settled herself expectantly. Chaligny-sur-Mer, March 10, 1925. Marion, dear old friend, I am the happiest woman alive. It came to me suddenly today as I was sketching in the held, and I said to myself, 'It is wonderful. I must tell somebody. I shall tell Marionf For I knew you would be interested, recalling those remark- able conversations we were wont to have before you committed yourself to the pleasant plump creature, your husband, and broke all the excel- lent plans you had made, and condemned me to a solitary globe trotting. My dear, do not believe that balderdash they are so fond of spreading in my country, about women who don't marry feeling 'an emptiness about the heart-a yearning to hold other people's babies.' It is quite false. There is a baby here at my inn. It belongs to an English couple, and I would not hold it for worlds. A more offensive little thing I never saw. Nor do I gaze with envy on the callow domestic bliss of its parents. 'He' is consumptive, I do believe, and in the Midi for his health, and 'she' is everlastingly busy with one sloppy concoction or another, for him or that child, and has most awful troubles with her nurse- maid. I have just Finished a divine picture, Marion -it is gone to Paris now, and all the critics say so, and it hangs in a spot of honor. But it is nothing, my dear, nothing, to the one I am doing now. I am mad about it myselfg I live it: it is all I ever hoped my painting could be. Oh, my dear, do you remember those hopes? It is so good to see them realized. Save me, I wax sentimental! I indulged in a real bout of feminine capers not so long ago. My picture was done at Monte Carlo-a moonlight thing, terrace and garden and figure in gauzy stuff on the porch I4 WESTWARD l-IO -a most interesting young woman posed- Russian nobility, and all that, but they are pen- niless, and such hordes of them. I had a won- derful time. jiust heaps of clothes from Paris. I'd never done it before, and I thought I ought to try it. The clothes were expensive, for I am far too extravagant. Then I came here, a dear little South-of- France town on the sea, with the quaint inn and all specifications. I paint always, and I am so happy. You would love it. Do you remem- ber, all those Qincredibly many, isn't it?j years ago, how we planned to go abroad, and it seemed such an improbable sort of thing? Well, here I've been, these fifteen years, off and on, and you aren't over yet. I came across one of your little poems the other day. Do you still write them? 1'm sending this one back, it might interest you. I think it's fine g you would surely have done something here. lt's conventional to ask after the admirable Clement, I suppose. Dear man, he never liked me. Suspected I would try to persuade you not to marry him, I think. As if anyone could have. You are disgustingly happy, too, aren't you? With that wonderful daughter, no won- der, she is an unusual girl, I'm convinced. I saw her-let's see, it's four years ago, and she was striking then, tho horribly young. I mean the goldy-haired one, of course, Lotis. Marion glowed. The letter was a glimpse of Nan herself, the superb egotist by profession, painter by trade, as she liked to style herself, the same Nan with whom she had eaten choco- lates in her high school days. She gathered the unread sheets closer in her lap and cupped her chin in her hand. It was so easy to remember the front porch of her father's house, where she had sat every pleasant afternoon, with a novel, a writing tab- let, a box-or more often a bag-of candy all within convenien't reach, a view commanding all local activity, and, within discreet calling distance Nancy Brake. And Nancy would come 'gliding 'across the grassy at least, she liked to fancy that it was gliding, and, to be sure, it was a very unique method of locomotion, and perhaps they would kiss languidly. Nancy had a migh'ty sketch book under an arm, of course, the contents of which were to be ex- hibited and criticized and commended, and presently there were Marian's verses to read, veryicarefully. Then, with a very charming air of reflection, Nan would sink gracefully on the step, and building conditions in Spain looked up. I'll have to study in Paris, too. of course. It's necessary to an 'artistic career. And you ought to come, too. Marian 3 it would help your poetry wonderfully. Atmosphere, you know. Perhaps we could go together, 'Marian would say. If Papa would send me,'when I've finished school. Aunt Hattie could chaperon us- Poor, broken castles! The Marian of fifty smiled at her comrade of fifteen. They had grown up rather rapidly, she and Nan, but the plans had endured-hers, only to fade-Ah, well! She had much in exchange. She had been nineteen when she had met Clement Vane, and presently she married him. She remem- bered! There had been a great veil of point lace, and her father's house filled with orange blossoms. She had written a sonnet on her wedding, and had shown it to Clement, and he had kissed her, scarcely reading it. You like my verses P she had asked, insisting. Don't you think they're good? Don't you think I should go on writing them P I think you should do just anything that gives you pleasure, he had said, and had kissed her again. There had been a honeymoon, of course, and then they returned to the little brick house that Clement's father had given them. There were little stands in the parlor for china orna- ments, and two crayon portraits staring for- biddingly, and a glass chandelierg there were also a series of diminutive colored girls by-the- day, and a hope, yet a little wistful, of a car- riage when we get on our feet, in a few years. They were not rich. Clement had explained that beforehand, but there was something so cheerful and comfortable about him, as if the world could not conceivably be hard to him, that she had waved the consideration grandly aside. She went eagerly to making beds and sweeping floors and cooking for Clement, and sometimes, in the evening, wrote a rhyme or two, and read them to him. Like them, Clement ? Um, fine. By the by, Marian, I heard today there's to be an opening in Sawyer's depart- ment, and I stand a chance. It's an increase, too. We could get the hall clock and a new evening d-ress for you. How would you like that? Oh, Clementll' The verses dropped. Oh, I do hope-I'll have blue velvet, just as I've always wanted! And the hall- After a bit she did not write any more, nor even think of it, except when she saw Nan, now and again. Nan had had her romance, too, a rather bitter one, that should, by the standards of the time, have broken her heart and set her languishing for life. It did not, however, for after a period of white-lipped WESTWARD HO I5 silence, she shrugged away the thoughts of the offending man, and apparently never thought of him again. He had done no more than prefer a prettier girl, after all, and they had not even been engaged. She was studying art with a vengeance, and, when she came oc- casionally to visit Marian, talked art almost exclusively. She spoke, sometimes, at first, of her friendfs poems, but presently dropped the idea, as Marian definitely had. After all, what time had sihe for poet's fan- cies? There was Alicia, and then Paul, there was the financial crisis of taking another and larger house, there were so many things-oh, things, things, things! Her days were full of them, dear things, little surprises Clement was constantly arranging for her, unexpected gifts for the house, clever little devices for her own benefit. There was the garden to be laid out and tended, Clement did so love a garden. And he liked his children to look as if they had just stepped from under the hair brush. She would have liked simpler, more picturesque slips for the small pair, but Clement frowned a little un- til she dressed them in the rather ugly but con- ventional ruffles and lace of their day. Mil- lionaire's children they looked, he would say, proudly bearing them off for a Sunday walk. They clung close, adoring him, and she who had labored so long over them was glad of the pride they gave him. For he was so good to her! It became rath- er proverbial, his goodness, until she was aware, when she went abroad on his arm, of inevitable comment. That's the young Vane couple. Charming, aren't they? He's won- derful ito her, they say. just worships her. Marian knew he did. His first thought had been-well, perhaps not herself, but at least of their home. There were gifts for her, too, un- failing-birthday and anniversary and Christ- UIZIS. Lotis was three when they moved again. Clement said much about a man's position de- manding certain things, but she had shed se- cret sentimental tears over some of the things left behind. They had belonged to that first dear bridal house, and they were very near to her heart. In their stead were liner furnishings as befitted the new station, and Clement was very proud of it all. Then all at once the children had begun growing up: Alicia was putting up her hair. and Paul leaning towards long trousers: Lotis was writing rhymes on the margins of her text- books, and being reprimanded, and Clement had to speak to her severely about defacing public property. Don't be so harsh. Marian had pleaded. She hasn't done anything so very terrible, you know. His head was aching, for he had had a bad day. 'She must have it brought home to her, he said a little sharply. She'd better be pay- ing attention than scribbling that nonsense. He never quite understood Lotis. Marian did not herself. There was a depth of feeling in her golden-haired daughter at which she could only guess, and the eyes that dreamed at the spring sunshine could blaze with unmeasured pride or anger. She was the spirit of Marian's lost verses come alive, a reminder of the Muses where the Lares were supreme. Marian 'searched in her letter for the loose sheet on which Nan had copied her long-for- gotten poem. She was smiling a little con- temptuously at herself. I wonder I have the courage to read it, she thought, her gaze again on her daughter's book. She read it, and read it again. So long ago- so long ago! There was a knot in her throat, and the words blurred as she opened the little volume and laid her work with her child's. Her verses were as good as Lotis's, and she knew it. The knowledge made her a little mad, and a little frightened too. Lotis had written sure- ly and with beauty, but indeed, so had she. She put her fingers at her lips, sealing them, uncer- tain of her emotions. Her eyes fell on the heap of birthday pres- ents, she shuddered a trifle. It's-it's they. Things. For the first time she was looking down vistas, wide and wonderful, Might-Have- Beens. Nan's life cried out, I am the happi- est woman alive, and hers-hers was choked with things! She thought, I was so proud of them, rather pitifully, clutching desperately at her ravishing content, and her shining cars, her big white house, comfort, position, luxuries. Clement's gifts! Was she-was she breaking faith with Clement? But she knew that that was beside the question, for she was looking at her ideals shattered, and it was he she must accuse. He made gods of a charwoman's cares, she thought, and gave them to me to worship. Oh. dear heaven! And what have I now ? The book in her lap whispered, Haven't you nie? Lotis All she had, all she had, Lotis and a little book of poems. She thought again of her last-born, the dear and unfathomable, and then her breath caught again, for, like an imp of evil a little stray wisp of conversation rose up to taunt her. We're only the best of friends, that's all. Not that, cried Marian, putting up a hand I6 WESTWARD HO to fend off the unseen horror. Oh, not Lotis, too! Emmondl 'Y' know, he reminds me of Dad'. Well he mightg Marian recognized him, that affable young chap, so bound to get on, another Clement he, another maker of gods. Oh, not Lotis, too! What was it that she had promised? f'I'll speak to him about it. She would indeed. The Words began to formulate already. I hear Granger is thinking of transferring young Em- mond, Clement. I certainly hope he does. He may be a nice enough young fellow, but I've heard things-and Lotis is so young, you know. I wish you'd use your influence, dear. Oh, she could manage it, a woman always could. A car was coming up the driveway. She felt the blood burning in her cheeks, it was- Em- mond bringing Lotis home. Rather nervously she began -stuffing Nan's letter into its envelope, angry and grateful to its writer all at once. I am the happiest woman alive! Ah, well, Marian murmured with a little pain at her heart. She was almost straining her eyes to see the pair at the door. Lotis's laugh- ter, gay and careless, wafted in at the window. Goodbye, Fred !-Dear of you! You won't come in? At nine then-- He had her hand, and was bending over it. Marian could fancy what he said, and hated him. Lotis laughed again. Fred! All right- nine ! She ran up into the house 5 the car rolled away, quiet and irreproachable, like its owner. Marian laid chill finger tips on her fevered eyelids-. She ,could not think, somehow, her head ached miserably. Then there was Lotis's head in at the door, so that she must manage a smile. Hello, Mamma! N'ot dressed yet? Better hurry, dear. Yes-yes. Have a nice time, Lotis ? Oh, lovely! The concert was awful, so we ran away and just rode-and it was so wonder- full Her young, breathless laughter did not notice Marian's strained face. Oh, Mamma! Oh, Mamma, Fred is such a dear-- She went on, humming happily. Nan's letter and The Tav- ern of Dreams together slid to the floor. Marian looked at them 'dully. I should have known. She felt stifled and bruised. It's much too late now. . . Poor Lotis! Downstairs the bell rang. I suppose that's Alicia and the children, she thought, rising automatically, and beginning to smooth her hair. She brushed against her pile of birthday gifts, and smiled wanly at them. Poor Lotis! I-I shall speak to Clem- ent t-o-night without failg surely he should be able to keep Granger from sending away Em- mond. Surely-- Alicia's correct voice sounded in the hall. Mother? ' Ye-s, Alicia. Smiling a little, composed and quiet, Mrs. Vane began the descent into her charming living-room. Gone DOROTHY TRIBULL. '26 In days gone by, the days of yesteryear, Lived fays and elves and witches in my thoughts: They dwelt in woodland glens and ocean caves, ln rustling trees and clouded, wind-swept skies. And then was solitude a priceless gift- Alone in woods l'd sit by brooks and dream: The morning mists that vanish up steep hills Were fairy veils whirled in the dance of dawn: And in the soft spring rain were fairy jewels: And o'er the swaying tree-tops was a scarf That. waved by unseen hands of cloudland elves, Touched tender leaflets whispering in the breeze. But gone the days of childhood's fairy dreams! And gone the enchanted reign of fays and elves! l sigh in vain for magic forests' call, And solitude has lost its charmed spell. . -+24 'swf -- if W A imll 4, E xxxkx .,.,- M E MQE X XX X , A f'f !q'.'x7ii f- gem: Q31 iT X f . X V X Q hh ' ' I Umm' h '7 f : --f QE T f NN X -' Xl -f'f N , . f i ,Qf L x K? ,Nm 5 ff Y Y if 5 . lv w i n? -Lu.mIinn.A Taylorsville, Maryland Frances H inkey, '26 Mifgiflii 1 AYLORSVILLE! The name means so little to some and yet so much to me! Small, but al- ways beautiful, it is at haven of pig refuge for me. When the noise l-43--ff:-i and bustle of Maryland's metrop- ous begin to sound just a little louder than usual, I hurry to Taylorsville and take a rest. But alas! as everything else changes, so has this little village changed, About twenty- five years ago it really was a village. There were about a dozen houses, a store, a hotel, and a small-very small-school. But that enemy, Fire, soon wiped out everything but the store and the hotel. Even these are changed now. The store is closedg but the porch is used as a meeting place for the old men of the surrounding coun- try. These men are mostly retired sea cap- tains, who have nothing to do but amuse them- selves. The hotel is changed also, but in quite a different way. It has been improved in every possible manner, and during all of the summer months is filled with people, generally from Baltimore and Washington. Really, there is another reminder of the old village. This is a long road known to everyone as the Lane. What used to be the main street of the village is now merely a nice place for a walk. Quite as important as the village itself is the river. Even this has changed. In place of the old, creaky ferry that used to travel back and forth across the river is a new concrete bridge. To cross the river on the ferry was almost as delightful as rowing across: but now we whiz over the bridge, hardly seeing the water. Still, the bridge has one good fea- ture. It is delightful to walk across it on a moonlight night, watching the twinkling stars above and the calm, still waters below. The boats, too, have come in for their share of the change. Once, we glided over the waters in sail boatsg now we speed along, accompanied by the chug, chug of the motor. But though the manner of conveyance over and on the river may change, the water itself remains the same. On a calm summer day the water is a lovely blue-green, reflecting the trees and the clouds. Later on that same day, the sun, far off in the west, sheds over the water a brilliant stream of red and gold. And when a summer storm is about to descend upon the river, it becomes I8 dark green. White-caps dot the crests of the waves, and the sky grows dark and sullen. Leading from the village to the country be- yond is a road. It is shaded from the glaring rays of the sun by trees which form an arch over it. There are large holes caused by rain, and ruts made by large old farm wagons. About a quarter of a mile up the road is the house where I generally stay when I visit the town. It has a garden in front, in which grow all kinds of old fashioned flowers. A grape arbor is at the right of the house. In a corner of the lawn stands a large honey-locust tree, whose branches spread out over the roof of the house. The house itself is low and large. It is painted white, across the front there is a small porch. Pink and red roses grow in abundance on the sides of this porch. From the back yard the river can easily be seen. In early spring, the village and the surround- ing country are beautiful. The ice on the river melts into blue-green water again, the flow- ers begin to bloom, the buds of the trees start to burst into leaves. Then is the time for him who loves solitude to go there. As I like to be alone, every week-end that can be spared from lessons finds me there. I take long walks by myself, or sit on the old wharf, dreaming. In mid-summer, there is the noise and ex- citement caused by summer visitors. Then there is no time for walking or dreaming. There is an endless whirl of dancing, picnick- ing, boating, and bathing. I take part in these, as everyone does, but all the time I am waiting for autumn to come. For late autumn is the season of seasons. To stroll along a winding road, observing the reds and browns of the treesg to gather the last of the honeysuckleg to see a brown rabbit scam- per across the roadg to catch a glimpse of a small flock of partridges, rising from a field and flying about as if to invite the shot from the hunter's gun-what could be better than this? Autumn is truly a wonderful season. In winter, when the water has frozen, skat- ing is the predominating sport. But there is no crowd-just a few country boys and girls. Taylorsville! No electricity! No furnaces! No theatres! just the river and the fields and the country roads and quaint houses! But it always calls to me, calls to come back, to come back to the simple country life of my ances- tors. PHFAOII Ida Nusihow, '25 Miss Ida Nusinow, the author of this story, through a relative in the Turkish Army, is thor- oughly familiar with its local color. ii-7---------i HE Turkish road lay dusty and hot ' z under a scorching August sun. Z Q High up on me hill could be seen a M21 Turkish regiment slowly and with uniform movement advancing to- '-Lizlz' wards this road. A few minutes more and they had already turned from the road and were proceeding into a thick, cool, mountain forest. Soon they came to a cool, merry brook- let, then to a large open, grassy space surrounded by treesg and then came the joyous word, Halt ! f'Break ranks! sang out a deep, commanding voice. With one movement the whole regiment became a swarm of men. They sang, laughed, and called to each other as in groups they prepared their tents. Many, although tired, ran to the brooklet for water. Others were con- tent to stretch themselves on the cool grass and converse in shouts from one end of the place to the other. One from the huge mass stood alone and apart. Only one was discontented and think- ing dark thoughts while the rest were laughing. The rest were glad the tedious march had come to an end. They were glad for this wonderful green resting place. He alone was frowning. Osman Nver-Bey stood apart from the rest and in an absent-minded way kicked the soft ground and scratched with his penknife on the tree he was leaning upon. Shall I always be a soldier P he asked him- self. Will this war never come to an end? Thirteen years ago I was drafted into the army and not once have I been given leave. If I had a different captain, I would have been given leave by now, but not my captain, the German dog. I hate him: I hate my lieutenant: I hate all Ger- mans. If it had not been for these Germans, we Turks would not be fighting now. Oh, just to get one glimpse of my wife and children! I must get away from this hateful captain who com- mands in broken Turkish and swears in fluent German, or I shall go mad. As he stood there, thinking half aloud, a sol- dier came up and summoned him to the captain. Osman went respectfully into his captain's tent, and a few minutes later came out dazed and be- wildered. Allah has spoken and given me a way for escape. I am to be on guard to-night. I am to guard this camp above Mar Saba, the Valley of Fire. Allah be praised! To-night, to-night- through the Valley of Fire. Allah be praised! This camp shall be guarded well to-night! And he laughed. He took his watch that night, nervous with great hopes and plans. Slowly, with his gun on his shoulder as though on guard, he walked over to a bush and picked up some provisions that he had concealed. Then rapidly he walked from the camp, and a few minutes later was standing outside of the camp on a spot known as the Field of the Shepherds. He ran a few feet to- wards Mar Saba and then stopped quite sud- denly. Fool that I am! he thought. Surely they will find me in the Valley, for it is too near to the Dead Sea. Even if I do reach the Valley, where shall I go from there? Disappointed and sad, Osman Nver-Bey re- traced his steps. His hopes had been as wild as his plans. He looked sorrowfully at his bag of provisions and smiled. The smile faded as he stared in bewilderment at the bag. There in a corner was printed fthe one word, Jerusalem. Jerusalem, that was it. Why hadn't he thought of it before? Jerusalem meant railroads to Nver- Bey, and railroads meant Lydda and home. So Nver-Bey put his little package in his knapsack on his back and began his four mile run to Jeru- salem. Arriving at Jerusalem an hour and a half later, out of breath and hungry, he sought the freight trains. After making certain that he was not ob- served, for the moon lit up the whole place, he threw himself into a freight train loaded with goods. One hour pass-ed: then two, and still the train did not move. He thought his heart would fail him every time he imagined the sound of ap- proaching horses. At last he felt the train shud- der and slowlv grind its way over the tracks, and he felt like calling out in despair. Go, go! Why don't you go P Not until the train was well upon its way did he realize how great was his fatigue and anxiety. On, on the train fiew. Soon he would be in Lyddag soon, even before his watch 19 20 WESTW should have been over, he would be making his way to his home, to his wife and to his children. But it was not to be quite so soon, for the train had come to a sudden halt. To get out and run he dared not, for he heard the sound of hur- rying footsteps and some one saying that some- thing had broken. The only sane thing to do was to sit there and wait. He would wait until four o'clockg and if repairs had not yet been finished, he would risk jumping from the freight car and making his way on foot. As he sat there waiting, his eyes closed and his head slowly began to droop down on his chest, but as soon as it rested on the cold steel button of his uniform, he awoke with a start. So until four o'clock he contin- ued this fitful dozing. Four o'clock and the train had not yet started, so he crept to the door, and, pushing it open just enough to let himself through, he dropped to the ground unnoticed and ran until he was certain of safety. Soon Nver-Bey recognized his surroundings and realized he was about fif- teen miles from home, and fifteen dangerous miles they were, too. lk Pk bk Dk Dk Four o'clock at camp and each soldier was asking the other what the idea was, for they had been aroused from their sound sleep by sharp bugle notes. Fifteen minutes later each little company in the regiment stood before its lieutenant. All were asked the same questions, and all gave the same answer-they had not seen Osman Nver-Bey. Then the captain gave orders: Company three and four are to go to Mar Saba and search for the deserter. Company five and six are to go to Bethlehem and around there in search of the deserter. Company one and two are to go on horse back to Jerusalem and then in special trains to Lydda. The' captain then called the lieutenants' of Companies One and Two and gave them in- structions to divide at Lydda. Some of them were to guard Osman's house, some were to comb the district between Lydda and the deserter's house, and some were to be on the lookout at Lydda. After having given his orders, the cap- tain. with a few men, mounted fast steeds and left the camp and the hurrying men behind them. The captain arrived at headquarters in a few hours and reported at once. Your Lordship, there is a deserter, he said to the old Turkish general after saluting. Who is he? asked the general. Osman Nver-Bey of Regiment Thirty-two under Lieutenant Smitte, Company One. Of course, you are merely reporting the case. You understand that if the deserter is ARD HO caught his punishment is to be death by a firing squad from his own company and at the hands of his own lieutenant, spoke the general. The captain answered, Yes, your Lordship, and with a salute was about to depart when he was called by the general. Just a second. Who did you say was the deserter's lieutenant P Lieutenant Smitte, your Lordship. Lieutenant Smitte is transferred and Lieu- tenant Effendy Ben-Zer of regiment ten is to take his place. X And is the Lieutenant Effendy to supervise the shooting ? asked the captain. Yes, You see, he is a middle-aged man who has been promoted and has never experienced anything like this. He is a man of marked abil- ity, so I thought I'd let him attend to this mat- terfl Yes, your Lordship. And with a sharp Ger- man salute he made his way out. Meanwhile Osman Nver-Bey walked and ran where he dared until he came to familiar ground. Before that he had blundered a few times, but now he could pursue his way easily, for it was now evening and he knew the place. At last he came to his beloved hill on the other side of which was his village. That hill! How he had loved to climb its steep, grassy sides that smelt of buckser and wild Persian roses! When he reached the summit, already the first star shone in the dark blue cloudless sky, and the faint outline of the moon could be seen. It was twilight. There at his feet was his home. His dear little, poor little home from which he had been taken away thirteen years ago! Thir- teen long years ago he had been taken from this place-his world. He had been dethroned from his kingdom, and they did not expect him to make one murmur of protest. He knew that he was being taken for food to feed to some fiendish war. Nor could he so much as complain. for he had neither money nor influ- ence. In all these years he had not been given one dayls leave, but now he was free. He felt all this as he spoke. Allah is merciful to me, a sinner. Soon I shall see my darling children and wife. just then, in the distance, he saw a number of men riding at full speed towards him, and he shivered. It took all his strength to keep from screaming in despair and fright when they stopped to dismount before his home. He knew he must wait until the soldiers had all gone, so he stretched himself face downward on the ground to wait. He did not raise his head again. Nor did he give much time to WESTWARD HO 21 thought. Only this: he was weary, and he must not sleep, he was hungry, and he had no food. Osman Nver-Bey cried in despair, for he was so near to all he loved and yet so far away. The jackal, hearing his sobs. pointed his nose to the moon and howledg and the hyena, hear- ing both, gave his hateful mocking laugh. Nver-Bey awoke and looked about him. He had fallen asleep. Already a new day was dawn- ing. He looked down upon his home. There were a few soldiers still guarding. Some dis- tance away he saw a caravan, and he watched the beautiful camels-for camels were beautiful to Nver-Bey. Soon he heard the merry jing- ling of the tiny bells upon the camels' throats, and he was glad. The jingling bells made him happy. Suddenly a loud report from a gun broke the stillness. Osman jumped and looked about him like a stag at bay. Then came a cry of Don't let him get away. Get him! Get him, fellows ! Nver-Bey ran with what seemed to him stupid slowness, and in his wildness he ran into a group of hidden soldiers. All his abus- ing, protesting, and begging availed him noth- ing. They dragged him at once back to the camp. wk ek Pk Osman Nver-Bey, dirty, tired, and haggard, stood before his Captain. The Captain spoke, I don't know why the lieutenant wishes a trial for you. If I had my way, you'd be shot without being blindfolded. Nver-Bey knew that pleading could do no good here, but perhaps the new lieutenant would listen. The new lieutenant-what sort of man was he? He did not even kn-ow the man's name. Soon Nver-Bey should see him, for he was already at the tent. Two soldiers brought Nver-Bey before the lieutenant, who was seat- ed so that his face could not be seen. 'One soldier handed over the documents which con- tained all the deserter's records. Come here before me and give me your name. This has only your regimental number. Nver-Bey faced his lieutenant. My superior, I am Osman -Then he paused, and looking more closely at the face before him, cried, Ben-Zer! Ben-Zer, my friend ! Effendy Ben-Zer in turn gasped, Osman Nver-Bey-a deserter! Oh, Ben-Zer, my boyhood friend, help me, save me. I wanted only to see my wife and children, not to desert, Ben-Zer, Truly, just to see them and then come back. Look, Ben- Zer, my friend, I kiss your feet. I will be your slave-only believe me. Ben-Zer, I won't have it. You mustn't shoot me. Not you, not you, my friend! Olh, Allah have compassion! It is hard to be shot, but -shot by one's friend is tor- ture. And for what? For what? just 'to see my wife and children-I would have come back, Ben-Zer, The superior officer was crying with the de- serter, and the two other soldiers looked on in amazementand pity. Ben-Zer spoke as a true soldier should. Os- man, I am a lieutenant, and I must take orders from my captain. I can only plead for a par- don from the general. If you are pardoned, I shall be as happy as you, but if you are not, then the captain will command me to 's-hootg and I'll have to give the signal, for if I don't, we'll both be shot. You are not a lifelong friend. You are merely a friendly ofhcerf' answered Nver-Bey in anger. Bren-Zer shook his head. You do not under- stand. Give me time to think. Go, Nver-Bey, and may Allah's pity be upon you! Effendy Ben-Zer, having dismissed the de- serter, sent a speedy messenger with a plea for pardon to the general. He had written that he would kill himself if he had to shoot his friend. He had 'threatened and he had pleaded. He had written that it was wiser to pardon a harmless deserter than to have two men shot. Now he was sitting at his desk clutching his hair and swaying from side to side. Hours passed before the messenger returned. The de- serter was to be shot at sunrise. Thos-e were the general's commands, and the captain was to see that they were carried -out. Ben-Zer pre- pared to meet his maker with curses upon the general's head and much weeping for himself and his friend. At sunrise a squad of men marched the de- serter to a quiet wood. They tied him to a tree and waited for the signal. The captain stood away from the rest and looked at the squad. Then he shouted to the lieutenant, All right. The soldiers raised their guns and waited for the awful signal. Nver-Bey stared at his friend with blood- shot eyes and thought, Would he dare ? Ben-Zer, pale as a ghost, turned away from his friend. -Could he do it? Should he? He felt his friend's sad black eyes upon him and was smitten by the intense message they conveyed to him. His soul was burning with the words, Ben-Zer, I want to liveg I must live: I can't die. I must live! I will live! Ben-Zer, for my .22 WESTWARD HO little children. I would have come back. I would have come back. He turned to his captain and was about to refuse to shoot, but the cold sneer -of the cap- tain made him stop. Again he heard the word duty as it had been spoken 'by his father who had taught him better. Duty! He saw it spreading in large letters before his eyes. Dlis- gracel Shameful death, two shameful deaths. Duty seemed to be screaming to him from every tree in the forest. He turned his face to the squad and pulled out his white handkerchief, the signal. Suddenly there was a burst of fire, but above the sound came an agonized cry-a cry of surprise, despair, fear. A second later there was seen a cloud of dust rapidly advancing. The cloud of dust soon be- came an anxious rider with a message. Ben- Zer tore open the document. It was a pardon for his friend. He heard all the maddening furies 'shout in glee, Too late, too late! A sudden madness seized him, and he laughed as only a madman can. Crying, laugh- ing, beating upon his temples, he stumbled to- wards his friend. Osman, do you hear? You are pardoned. You are pardoned, my friend. He looked upon the dead face. It was smiling. Clytie LEE ROSEN, '2 5 . CThe water nymph, Clytfie, fell in love with Apollo, the Sun god. She left the waters to sit and watch the sun as he passed across the heavens. After nine long days of fasting and re- maining seated upon the earth unmoving, Clytie began to be transformed, until finally she be- came the sunflower known to-day.J My petals droop: they wilt and slowly fade. My leaves, once green, refreshing to the sight, Are withering away: their color turns A pallid yellow hue: their listless forms Too soon will rustle down about my feet To wait until the wintry blanket falls, And gently shrouds their shriveled ugliness From human ken: there shall l also lie: Throughout the winter months Apollo beams Upon the world-and l concealed from viewl O, would l were a happy nymph once more, immortal as the gods: then might l see His gleaming circuit through the washed-out blue Of winter's heavens: fleet the summer months As yonder skimming swallow taking Hight: My life is brief, a draught of golden light: The dregs are bitter sweet, for my farewell To love and life and light is agony! l rail against my hateful destiny, l cry upon the joyful, mating birds ln jealous indignation: l could weep To see the lovers wand'ring slowly by, Oblivious of my grim, eternal doom,- To die afresh with every passing year. But still, there's none who dares to disavow My right to worship him, this radiant godl indifferent though he turned his face from me, Nor heeded, heartless scorner, when l sought With eager importunity his love, Yet must he shine upon my lifted face, Must bathe my eager petals in his rays. Too true, alas, it is that tree and Hower, The graceful willow and the blushing rose Receive alike his passionate caress: But, since l must, l will be satisfied. He can not well deny my tender gaze: He can not pass me by when summer smiles: And though l lie unwitting of his warmth Upon the barren earth when cold endures, 'Mid summer's gay profusion shall l bloom Beneath the glance of him whom all adore, The lord of light, of music-and of me. X, :YB X K 1 A M THE. METER AL 5 DE OF GRHDURTA ON I X, Wfl .4 , .War-. WF' 1 mewfr ' - y T , ' 1 X 1' .ia 7 - Ry, I H V. . 1 'S v I ' ..4,w 'ug A .sf-5' iii , 7 .EH I J-mai' J' ' f 'P' :ltvfr Q , tx M ' 2 C 14N S The Homecoming Blanche Romer, '25 i--------Ti ORE old feller! Seems like he's 1 if QA . in fer a final streak of hard luck. Nice old man, too! And the ha- lfig Q3 -I bitually jovial Bob Larkins shook his head sympathetically. Bob f:::'g: -' was the only professional man in the village. He had been graduated from some small college, and, although he had relapsed into lazy village life and manners, he still retained the honored position of combined barber, physician, and veterinary. How long do yuh think he'l1 linger, Doc? asked Ed Hall, reclining in the only comfortable chair in the only store in Sunrise Summit, a little group of farms among the mountains of West- ern Maryland. Ed was the richest man in Sun- rise Summit-that was why he was lounging in the only comfortable chair. But, unlike some rich men, Ed was kind-hearted and generous and in- terested in the welfare of his fellows. Ed never foreclosed on a mortgage, he never dispossessed a tenant, he was content that his money should help his neighbors in their need, and that it should enable him to live a life of leisure upon the few dollars which it brought as interest. Wal, that heart of his'n is purty bad. He's let it go too long and it's liable to go back on him 'most any day. If he knew that ugly horse of his'n is tubercular, I reckon he'd go quick as that! With a snap of his fingers, and a deep sigh, again Bob Larkins shook his head sor- rowfully. Guess that horse of his'n is purty far gone, too, eh, Bob? Getting weak and skinny, al- ready. Never was specially sprightly lookin', but he looks like he's in the last stages now. And Ed thought of his large herd of sleek cows which had been wiped out by the dread disease. Told him it wasn't safe to stable that horse with my cattle last winter. But he said he guessed his horse wouldn't ketch no disease- reckoned it was strong like he is. I reckoned I'd better take his horse so's he'd be sure not to give his last bite to that horse of his'n. Guess the reason he's so set on that horse is that his wife was before him. She allers was right fond of that horse. I recollect when Mac first brung the critter home. 'Oh, Macl' says she. 'Let's call him Ikel' She said it reminded her of a man clown to her county, 'cause its legs was so long, and it looked so thin and clumsy. And Ike he's been ever sence. 24 A'Yep, them sure was some days for them, Ed Hall added reminiscently. Them three lived together as though there wasn't no one else a-livin'. Not that they wuz selfish-it was jest a complete happiness in themselves, jest that horse and Mac and Lucy livin' in that old shack of mine down by the railroad tracks that wuz the curse of their lives. Little didin Hush! Here he is. And Doc Larkins looked up at the horse and wagon which had drawn up in front of the store. Hi, Mac! he called to the man who was alighting from the rickety, creaky buggy, which the Doc had once termed the one hoss shay. The man under discussion. after having loosened the horse's bit, approached the men on the porch. At first glance, he was little and old, but on closer observation one could see that he had not always been little, nor was he very old. There was only a slight stoop, no decided weak- ening or wasting from age,-and yet,-yet, there was a decided something, an indefinable some- thing, which marked him as an old man. There was the tragic expression in those mild blue eyes, the passive set of the regular features of his calm, white face, the pure whiteness of his thick, soft hair, which bore the mark that unfortunate cir- cumstances had left behind. He had once been tall and slim and strong,-he was still,-and yet -yet there was an indescribable smallness about him. Something that was lacking in his face, his eyes, something that was lacking in his gait, in his carriage, in his movements, detracted from the quiet, dignified handsomeness that might have been his, had that something been present. He was well-dressed, in that his attire was neat, clean, and orderly, although his cheap suit was undoubt- edly the worse for wear. How-de-do, Doc ? he said in his quiet voice, as he came up the steps of the porch. How do yuh do, Ed? Fine, Take a chair. There was a moment of the embarrassing re- straint which usually follows a discussion when that discussion is unceremoniously interrupted by the unexpected appearance of the person under discussion. The two friends looked down, abashed at having spoken of sympathy for this man, who undoubtedly scorned sympathy and evaded pity. It was Mac who broke the silence. He put his hand impulsivelv on Bob Larkin's shoulder. There was an unquiet look in his pale blue eyes. WESTWARD I-IO 25 and there was the earnestness of anxiety in his voice, as he said, Say, Doc, I've been wantin' to see you the last few days, about that horse of mine. Take a look at him, will yuh, Doc ? A significant look passed between the other two men before they arose unwillingly and fol- lowed him to the edge of the road, where the old horse was standing, patiently awaiting the return of his master. He was a brown horse, extremely thing his large bones showed plainly under the tightly-drawn skin. His long legs were bespat- tered with mud, but his back, smooth and shiny, bespoke the patient care of a loving master. He was loosely harnessed to a light cart. Recogniz- ing Mac's voice as he approached, the horse turned his head in his master's direction and gave a friendly whinny. To Mac, this was the most sincere welcome for him on earth, and it always cheered and encour- aged him. He came up to Ike and slapped him on the Hank, as one hits an old friend on the back. He stood patting the horse on his nose, as tender- ly as a mother caresses her child, as he watched the doctor's examination and said, with some anxi- ety, Look how skinny he's gettin'. Seems like he's eatin' all right, but it don't do him no good. What's the matter with him, Doc? Bob Larkins looked up from his examination of the horse. He hated to lie, but in this instance a lie seemed justifiable. He nevertheless drop- ped his eyes from the searching, worried eyes of the old man, as he assumed a light tone and said, Ain't nothin' the matter with that horse. It's his nature to be thin, Mac. Wouldn't want to change nature, wouldja? Besides, that horse is gittin' old. You know when a skinny horse gits old he gits even skinnier. And maybe the season's got something to do with it. All horses gits thin durin' the winter. And sometimes horses git spring fever jest like humans do. But it ain't nothin' serious. Don't let that fret yuh. There ain't nothing the matter with him. But in his effort to allay the fears of his old friend, Bob said too much. Although Mac's emo- tions had been dulled, his perceptions were still keen, and his suspicions were aroused. Don't be foolin' me, Bob, he begged. If there's anything wrong with Ike, I want to know lt. Aint nothin' wrong with 'im, insisted the thoroughly uneasy doctor. Ain'1t yuh gonna believe me P We'll, I reckon I'll have to, Mac replied, still unconvinced. After a little forced conversation, Mac climbed into the little cart and drove away, dis- appearing slowly from sight, as Ike walked quietly up the sunny road. His intuition told him there was something the matter with the horse, the men's embar- rassed attitudes, the doctor's queer diagnosis, the horse's obvious condition, all seemed to affirm his fears. But he could not be sure. After all, Bob might have been right. It might be some minor disease, some slight indisposi- tion. In fact, he preferred to think it was. It was better to drift in happy ignorance of the true state of affairs, than to know the worst. Mac had learned that there was no use in strug- gling against the relentless blows of Fate. There was enough 'trouble in life without worrying about an ill which might not even exist. All one could do was hope for the best. So Mac sought to dismiss all care. from his mind as he drove on. After all, what did it matter? He had not so long to stay, himself. Those pains in his heart were growing more frequent and more pronounced. He felt that soon, very soon, he should be with his Lucy. Yes, it would be so soon, that he would be spared the, anguish of parting with Ike-Ike would part with him, and be left behind. He hoped he would be able to leave Ike in a good home before he left, 'so that Ike, too, could be happy. He had been such a comfort-had Ike. In the darkest days, when it seemed that there was not a living thing that cared, not a heart that beat with love for him, it had always been Ike who was the comforterg Ike, who brought solace to the grief-strickeng Ike, who made the world more bearable. They were slowly passing over a winding road. On either side were trees: tall spruces, maples, oaks, all beautiful with the tender green of the springtime, all foretelling their own kind coolness in the heat of the summer. And, then, they passed a small shanty-Mac's shanty-set back behind the trees, and surrounded by a tiny plot of land. It was an old tumble-down hutg a dilapidated, rotting, wooden hut. Nondescript in color, indefinite in shaape, it had not even the beauty which remains in some old cabins. But in Mac's eyes, it held a definite charmg it was the only home he had ever had, the only place he had ever loved. Not far from the hou-se, the road was cut by the railroad tracks which ran at right angles with the road. One came upon it suddenly. There was a rising incline along the road, and at this point it was high enough to shut from view anything which might be coming from the other side. Mac passed the bend with closed eyes, and an involuntary shudder shook him. It was here, on those hideous tracks, on those hard 26 WESTW symbolic steel rails, that Lucy had met her deathg Lucy, his wife, his only love, his very heart-taken away in an instant by that horri- ble, coldly impersonal monster, a train. Here in sight of her humble little home, which was beautified by the happy atmosphere which her presence had -always lent, and by the homely little efforts she had always made at adorn- ment! He had never been able to give her much, it had always been a struggle for exist- ence. He had never had any ability for money- making, he had never been an energetic man, he was satisfied to earn a dollar or two doing odd jobs for the other farmers. They had lived in the little shack which was owned by Ed Hall, who had allowed them to live in it rent free. But they had been happy. Lucy had been con- tent with the little they had had. Lucy had been the oldest of the large family of a poor farmer. She had been used to hard work, and said she would have been lost without it. She had raised enough vegetables to satisfy their small needs in the small plot of sterile soil in front of the house. She had loved to pick ber- ries for preserving, and it was on an excursion of this sort that she had met her death. The train coming unexpectedly around the bend had surprised her-and her husband had been left alone. Mac-quiet, unresisting against the rav- ages of an unkind fate-left grieving and yet calm and uncomplaining, had been left alone, except for the dumb animal who loved him, the animal that lLucy had loved, the only living thing he had left to remind him of her, his old horse, Ike. Ike seemed to feel the restraint under which his master was laboring. As though he wished to bring Mac's wandering thoughts back to the matter at hand, back to the beautiful springtime, back to the growing grass and the budding trees, Ike whinnied encouragement and started at a trot. His simple ruse had its effect. Mac looked up, it was a long time since Ike had run at such a pace. Perhaps he wasn't so sick after all. Perhaps he was getting better. The cool wind struck Mac full in the face, it blew through his hair, it swept the sadness from his heart. Ike soon returned to his now customary slow pace, it had been a strenuous run, but Mac was sitting easily in the cart, he was no longer breathing so fast, and Ike, dumb animal though he was, was sat- islied. Like a dog was he, patient, understand- ing, intuitiveg he knew his master. Mac drove up before a neat little farm-house. It was painted white and green, as were the barn and chicken-house which were near it. There was ivy growing up the side of the ARD HO house, there were rose ramblers, just getting green, on the front. It was a plain wooden a common Maryland farm-house, the houseg home of a farmer, a farmer who could not af- ford a covering for the kitchen floorg but an air of cheerfulness pervaded the place, Every window-pane shone happiness, every white curtain bespoke content. Two children ran from the back of the house when they heard the cart stop. With shouts of glee they ran to welcome the old man. They loved him, although he never made them laugh and he never played peek-a-boo as the other neighbors did. Somehow, this little boy of seven and this little girl of four understood that Mac could never be gay. Rustic and un- cultured as they were, they respected his moods, and they never disturbed his calmness. He raised each one in put them in the seat they drove up to the children's mother was turn, kissed them, and beside him. Together back yard, where the hanging out the wash. She was a tall woman, broad of shoulder and strong of limb. Her cheeks were red as an apple, her eyes had caught the spirit of spring, her hair blew in the breeze. Not a 'beautiful woman, but a handsome one. Not perfect features, but wholesome ones. She was a typ- ical farmer's wife. Mamma, Mamma, cried the children as they came up. Mac's here! He wants to see Papa. Make him wait till Papa comes !', Their mother laughed heartily at her chil- dren's enthusiasm. Well, Mac, how-de-do? She greeted him cordially. Sure you'll stay a while, seein' as the kids wants you so. john'll come in any minute now. He's just iinishin' up the plowin' in the far end of the field up by the creek. Come in and set a-while. The children brought some sugar for Ike, played with him a little, and then they all en- tered the immaculate kitchen. The sun shone through the open windows, and brightened the room, the white curtains blew in the breeze. The bare floor was paintless from scrubbing. In one corner of the room was a stove, in the center was a table, covered with a red cloth, and set for four. Several shelves, which held the dishes and rows of shining cook- ing utensils, a few chairs, and some pictures completed the furnishings. Mac sat with the little girl on his lap and Bobby on the arm of his chair. Story! Story ! they clamored. And iMac told them stories- stories from the Bible, the story ofjonah and the Whale, of Noah and the Ark. of Esther and Mordecai, of Job, of Moses, of joseph: stories that made them gasp and wonder, stories that satisfied their active imaginations, stories that WESTWARD HO 27 taught but did not preach. The farmer was away longer than his wife had expected, Mac sat with the children for several hours. They quickly fell in with his mood, they listened quietlyg they spoke gaily, in subdued voices. Between tales, they told him of Nellie's calves, of their six little kittens, of Speckled Hen's hiding place for her eggs, of all the many little things which made for life and variety for these little tots. All three enjoyed the hours, and the mother delighted in the sight of them. It was late in the afternoon when Mr. White came home. He was a tall man, thin and wiry and brown. His eyes were the eyes of an artist who sees all the beauty in nature. His hands were those of a worker, large, calloused, capable. He strode into the yard and whistled the cheery call which was so familiar to his lit- tle familv. Mac was in the midst of an absorb- ing tale, but the children scrambled off in all haste and ran to their father, who caught them up in his strong arms, kissed them heartily, and swung them to his shoulders. With their little arms around his neck, each fighting for the greater share, he bore them triumphantly into the kitchen, where his wife awaited him Mac felt strangely alone. To have spent several happy hours with these children, to have succeeded in amusing them, to have felt their love, and then to have seen them run away, unhesitatingly, unregretfully, to their father! How thev hugged him! How he must love them! For the first time Mac en- vied. For one man to be so doubly blessed! What had he done, how had he sinned that he must be so alone? Mac's heart was heavy and dull. They made arrangements for the morrow's sowing, in which Mac was to help. Mac often helped Mr. White-small, odd jobs which paid him enough to live on. Mrs. White and the children begged him to stay for supper, but he would not. He could not. He wanted to be home, home, with its quiet and its memories, alone with his thoughts and his sorrow. So they took him to the road. The chil- dren kissed him good-bye, and Mrs. White sur- reptitiously put a freshly baked loaf of bread and some fresh butter and cheese in the cart. Ike, who had been well-fed earlier in the aft- ernoon, started otf slowly, amid the shouts of the children and the smiling farewells of the kindly farmer and his wife. Mac fell into a deep reverie, as they slowly wended their way home. The reins hung loose- ly in his hands, and Ike, sick and weary, al- though he had had rest and food, moved for- ward, head down, and eyes on the road, at a very slow walk. So they progressed, until the shadows began to lengthen, and the sun sank below the horizon. The road was a winding one: it encircled Sunrise Summit and passed almost every farm on the mountain. It was a ledge cut out of the rock and over-hung, at this section, a flat ster- ile ground, rough with stones and underbrush and weeds. It was a familiar road to both the horse and the riderg they traveled it every day. It became cool and quiet, the birds were at restg still Ike walked -calmly on, and Mac re- mained lost in his memories, his eyes fixed on a point in the road. He forgot the birds, the sun, the hour. He did not notice the silence or the coolness. He was lost in thought. Ike knew the way homeg he followed the road instinctively. 'Man and beast felt, with- out seeing, that they were nearing home. They came to the crossing, there was a rum- ble, a roar, a Hash. Mac started, his tense hands jerked the reins, his heart swelled and broke. Startled from his stupor with a jerk, frightened by the huge train, Ike followed the pressure of his master's reins, and plunged over the cliff. They were found that night, at the bottom of the incline, lying on the green ground, looking up peacefully at the heavens. The stars shone lovingly above them, and the cool moon illum- inated the old man's quiet face. They had gone home, these friends, together. qinfuzofnfuzo- He was just a little farmer lad Who sang as he worked all day: But he dreamed of courts and palaces, Of lords and ladies gay. Now he is grown and rich and great, Held in respect by men: But he sings no more, for his heart now sighs: Were l that lad again! ET!-lE.L DEMUTH, '26. JUNE WEE! 7? I O 1 It quits sun that our n1u.hbo1s an M uhson Avenue will think th it our sing song is 1 nhe usil of the Me ro pnlit in Opu 1 Lo -Tho faculty tc-:L-:L lesson in etiquette-. NVhat DOIS one discuss with tha, faculty? I ltc-r'Lture-history'Z Horrors! No! Thosl, subjscts would be t001l'1m.,ur0us. A1 yes the wvuthvr. Qzivull N. B.-Books on may bu obtained library. etiquette from the gf V 'Q wiv 4 X691 lui' ' ,XMAS 3 L4 4 x,'f Ill l lam Q -ai 4 1 . .xt l u 1 X A ll W Vvhat ho' Land F'0FdflW houxs well tuln into jolly tars on the Junior benior Bo it Ride 4- NVho is she? Oh th Lt s NVhat's hu' name! You know she s the girl who- Such remarks will probably reach those who are so fortunate as to receive '1wards. -L ut. then that last assembly of all. Some may be sad some may be glad but :ll will be proud to be Seniors at lrVUSttHI'Hl Q .4-K .7- 14 , N ' f Q AMONGUSWCSTCRNI I C5 .l .h X A X K f A-L X 1 fl , ' '- ll l 31 in I' .L - if we IP M X' 'F 'lv l i' 'WY' , u l l' 3' I '7' 7- ' A ir, .L ,I , .s Q 5: Iii 1 H A QM N4 Y if C U ,' 3 x ' X 1? K L W L: N 'I ,P xx 0' M ' I , ' HM ' fur! x ,fl HW ll I I. 5 A 4 4 1 Ill' 4 R ff lf I-IOIT19 Dorothy Leineweber, '27 HE rain splashed against the win- dows. It beat unceasingly upon the roof. The sound at last wak- ened June from her reveries. With a shudder, she glanced around her room. An iron bed. an ancient bureau, a scratched chest, and numerous paint- ings and charcoal sketches met her eye. lt was at the latter that she gazed with a hopeless look. All lacked that unattainable something that made people buy pictures. Suddenly her eyes filled with tears. She saw life, her life, as through a kaleidoscope. Life at home on the farm with Mother, David Atherton, dear, dear Dave, who had come abruptly into her life, and as abruptly left itg and then after his departure and Mother's death, this coming to the city, which resulted in the disappointment, the failure, that had come upon her. She looked again at the empty canvas before her. It was her one hope. If she could not make of it something that was real-that was good, then she was lost! Oh, she must, she must! She must enter the Morley Contest, and win! She must make something of this painting, must make it great! Either that Ori. Again June Win- ters shuddered. She fell again into deep thought. Over and over, her numbed brain kept repeating, What must I paint, oh, what must I paint P Suddenly, as if in answer to her question, a comforting picture appeared. It was a picture of .lune's home, where she had lived before com- ing to New York, with its white verandas, its clinging vines, and the hills that stretched end- lessly away behind it. June's eyes lighted. She picked up her brush, and, as one inspired, began working furiously on the canvas. A shapeless object was quickly sketched in with long, color- less strokes. The whistles for the noon hour blew, and still june worked. The rain stopped its rhythmical pattering, and the sun came out. But the sun had dropped over the edge of the skyscrapers far in the west before June put down her brush. Even then she was not long delayed. A bite to eat, and back to her painting again. The clock in the hall outside was striking eleven before she again stopped, and stepping back, began to in- spect the canvas. A low, wide-spreading, white house lay amid a group of old elm trees. Its verandas were cov- ered with rambler-roses, and myriads of flowers 5?f 'T'! l sprang up on all sides. The lawn was a glorious emerald green, the skies were a heavenly blue, and far, far away were purple mountains. It was Home. And June actually cried with de- light, for it was truly great! Pk PK Pk Pk PF She entered her picture in the Morley Contest and then went home to wait amid a thousand tor- turing thoughts. Suppose she lost! There were hundreds of chances that she would. And if she did, there was no money left. One bill remained in her slender purse, and although she had per- suaded her landlady to wait for the rent, she knew that ten dollars would not last very long. The results of the contest were to be an- nounced a fortnight later. June could never af- terward tell how she spent those two weeks. She moved as one in a trance. Every day she walked the streets looking for work, but all of her attempts were unsuccessful. She found that she could do very little, for her life before she had come to the city had been one of quietude and little labor. She grew to envy the girl that had once been she, the girl who had enjoyed the simple, happy pleasures that were once hers. She would sit by the window, during those hot, sultry evenings that New York knows so well, but her thoughts were not with the city that lay below her with its chaotic sounds, its eternal bustle and hurry. She would dream of her home, and of David. She remembered him as she had seen him last, his gray eyes gazing into hers with such a look of love and faithful- ness in them. It had not been his fault that they had drifted apart, she reflected, not his fault that he had had to leave her. He had promised to re- turn, and had solemnly sealed the promise with a kiss. Her Mother's death had changed all. She re- membered the letter she had written him directly after the funeral, begging him to come to take her away. She remembered the days that had followed, when every room, every hall, every place on the farm had seemed filled with her mother's presence. And she remembered, too, the weeks of torture when no word had come from Dave, and she had cried herself to sleep every night over his unfaithfulness. She knew now that the letter had never been received, or surely Dave would have come. With remorse she thought of the day that she had rashly given up all hope of ever seeing him again, and had hastily packed her trunk and left the farm. Fool- 29 30 WESTWARD HO ish girl that she was, she had left no word for Dave, if he -should return, but had gone angrily away. When June thought of that, she bit her lip in vexation, because she knew that all of the time she had loved David, and she had somehow known that he still loved her. But the deed had been done now. She did not expect to see David again. And home-how utterly far away it seemed! She would give ten years of her life to be there again. lk Pk if Pk lk The days fairly crawled by for June, but at last the day for the announcement of the con- test came. june stayed in her small, stuffy room all day, patiently awaiting some word of the con- test. The hours ticked away, and June waited in vain, for no news came. Five o'clock came and went, and June, with tears in her brown eyes, pulled a threadbare black hat over her red-gold hair and went out. At the corner, she called a paper-boy to her, and with her last pennies bought an evening paper. Trem- bling, she unfolded it. Her eyes blurred with tears, she hastily scanned the front and back pages. There, in cold black print which sealed June's fate, was the announcement that a Mr. Broune, one of the city's wealthiest citizens, had won the Morley Contest. June had lost! And the paper that had so affected her life dropped heedlessly, for june had fallen to the pavement. Ik ik Pk wk Dk It was a long time before she wakened. She had been dreaming of home, and, as always, Da- vid was in her dreams. But what was that scent that seemed blown to her-a scent of roses? With an effort, she opened her eyes slightly. All that she could see was flowers-flowers everywhere. Was this Paradise? June thought it must be, for a loved voice was speaking, a voice that she had never expected to hear again on earth. It was Dave's voice. When she grew accustomed to the sunshine that flooded the room, she saw that it was Dave. She recognized him by his broad shoulders, his grey eyes, his wavy hair. He had changed, it seemed to june, There were lines upon his face, as if he had been through much sorrow, and he had matured. Suddenly. she became aware that he was speaking to her, and in terms of endear- ment! june, he was murmuring, don't you recog- nize me? It is Dave. Speak, June! Why did you leave the farm? Whv didn't you tell me of your mother's death? Whv did you try to drop completely out of my life? He was kissing her hands in the way that he had kissed them millions of years before, when he had said goodbye. Suddenly, june realized that she was alive- that this was not Heaven. She was in a room in a hospital,-she did not know where. Dave's flowers surrounded her, and he was there, asking her forgiveness, and telling her of his love. A It was then that she uttered one word, that held all of her love for him. Dave, she cried. Pk :F Pk Pk Pk It took them hours to explain to each other the events that had led up to their meeting. June had been right. David had not received her letter, but had gone to the farm, because he had had no word from her for weeks. And he had found her gone. I thought that I had lost you completely, June. I could not find out where you were, and for months I've been looking for you. I've made good, June, but this moment is the first time that I have realized the worth of my po- sition in life. It was because I won it for you, dear, and when you were gone, it was of no use. But, Dave, June interrupted, how did you discover me here ? It was your picture, june. You won Honor- able Mention in the contest, and the picture was on display. Some critics regard it as a bet- ter painting than the winner. Curiosity drew me to it, and when I saw it, I recognized the house at once. It was Home, june, in every sense of the word. I knew instinctively that you had painted it. Only you could have real- ized the happiness that the house held. You painted it in your picture, june, and that was what made it great. june smiled. She felt that she had won all of her happiness through her painting, for she had won David back to her. Dave, you did not answer my question. How did you discover me in the hospital ? I found you through your picture. The man- ager of the art gallery where your picture is on display gave me your address, and I went to your lodging-house immediately. But you were not there. The landlady told me that you had been taken 'to a hospital the day before, after fainting on a near-by street, apparently from the heat. I broke all speed laws in reaching this hospital. I thought that perhaps I had lost you again. But, much to my relief, you were here. The nurse brought me to you at once, and I've been with you ever since. WESTWARD HO 3l Are you afraid of ever losing me again, caution of getting a marriage license, and the Dave :W .lime Was laughing from Sheer .l0Y HOW- old homestead has been opened for us. I shall David 'took her hand. k oiforeve , une. W re o'n Hom ! No, dear. You see, I have taken the pre- eep y L r J C a g 1 g C +-4cv62,iyw4--4- The City LEE ROSEN, '25. QTranslation of S!orm's Die Stadt J By the gray sea on the strand No leafy, rustling wood is there: The ancient city silent lies. No songsters warble praise of May: Fog shrouds in gloom the steeples grand: ln autumn, when the earth turns bare, The dull waves lapping 'gainst the land The cries of wild geese I-ill the air Are sad as melancholy sighs. Above the grass-grown shore all day. But yet my whole heart lives with thee, Thou gray, old city by the shore. Dim memories of my youth l find ln thee: they stir with every wind: Cray city, stand forever morel +--4oW?alv-4- The Los Angelesn MARJORIE GRAFFLIN, '25. This is our tribute from a land of war. This is our tribute. Tell me, can this sight, Monarch of skies, she sails the rain-washed blue: Bright and inspiring as it seems to be, Her silver sides the sun has gilded o'er: Take from a thousand hearts the aching night And our proud name has added to her more That they who gave it caused? Drown in its light Than size, or sun, or smiling sky could do. The longing for a face one cannot see? Better to give no tribute than to show How infinite the waste, how vast the price Of one great war. 'Twould cause more joy to know A lesson from its pain and grief will grow: A message worthy of such sacrifice. .av-4lo1Q',!g0J7ai.l.4. Ghosts FRANCES HEAPS, '25. An Old. Old 110080, S0 gray and worn, Outside. 'mid grass grown thick and tall, A tale of days Of yore: A violet shows its head: A paneless window blindly stares: And near a rusty, sagging gate, A lockless, hingeless door. An ill-kept pansy bed. lnside, the crumbling plaster falls: The dusk now falls: l bid farewell, A shred of -paper here: To this house of days gone by: A musty cupboard, dark, long-closed: A soft breeze blows, I seem to hear A broken toy once dear. A faint and ghostly sigh. Wh0,S Who ln WGSIQFII KATHERINE GESSFORD, '25 FTER waiting for three quarters of an X. hour on the trunks outside the music ' room for her to issue forth from a confer- ence with Miss Adams and. after ruthlessly pur- suing her until the first floor was reached, the writer finally managed to interview Gek, of- ficially known as Katherine Gessford, President of the Senior Class. It is very hard for her to find time even to talk about herself! Gek says she has no hobbyg 'that tis, she isn't a crossword puzzle fiend or a movie fan, but she likes to travel. Having traveled so far as Washington, D. C., says- Gek, I nat- urally thirst for more. As for my ambitions! When I was little, I wanted to work at a rib- bon counter. The many beautiful colors so strongly appealed to my artistic UD sense that I longed to spend my days among them. Now I'm not sure what I shall do. I intend to go to Goucher this fall and to major in Math, but after that--well, I don't know. Athletics play a very important part in Gek's life, with basketball occupying first place. Oddly enough, though, her favorite pas- time is reading-boys' books. She is not really interested in dramatics, but she admits that she was very glad to be in the Se-nior play. Her executive ability was first evidenced when she was made president of the eighth grade. Since then, Westernites have felt how great her exec- utive power is. But Gek is not the kind of girl to be de- scribed by merely lists of achievements. There are two things which better describe her than all these. Otne of them is that, better even than having good friends, Gek is a good friend, and the other is that, though 'she could not give her definition of a good sport, one is safe in saying that Gek herself is the definition! Catherine Shaw, '26 JULIA KEIDEL, '25 p comes her work as a year officer She has ' A been secretary of her class for three years. That 'she is a competent one is shown by the fact that she has been twice re-elected. Next 32 IRST of all of Judy's various interests wvyr ' come her 'activities in the Dramatic club, of which she is Vice-President. It is believed that Judy is named after the well-known actress, Julia Marlowe, so we suppose that the mere as- sociation of names accounts for some of her dra- matic ability. I-s there one of us who does not remember Debby Weston, the housekeeper in the Junior Play, Betty's Ancestors, or Lady Clarise of the fSenior Play, Monsieur Beau- caire, or Madam Tebreton, hous-ekeeper in In- dian Summer ? Indeed, Judy seems to have a passion for housekeeping, but she says that, al- though this- may be her hobby in plays, it moist emphatically is not off stage, behind the scenes or anywhere else. Besides this, Judy is a mem- ber of the Student Activities Committee and is interested in athletics, too. She swims, plays tenni-s, and is a marvelous jumping center, as anyone who saw her performance in the mock Junior-Senior game can tell you. Judy intends, after leaving 'Western, to go to Goucher, and after that to teach English. Formerly her ambition was to be able to eat all the ice-cream she wanted. She says, When I was little, there was a drug store near me that offered to let anybody drink a certain num- ber of sodas. If he succeeded in drinking the required number, he did not have to pay for them, but if he failed, he had to pay for all the sodas he had drunk. I wanted to enter that contest, but my 'size eliminated me. Indeed Judy's size now would probably eliminate her from many things if size counted. But we find that her ability and popularity are both inverse- ly proportional to her size. Catherine Shaw, '26 SADIE RICE, '25 HIS interview with Sadie was, indeed, lil' Q K ,A quite a memorable one for it was held while the interviewed one sat bemoaning a tooth-ache and while the interviewer received a hair cut. Although frequently shouting forth about the straightness of the part of my hair and the unevenness of the ends of it, I suc- ceeded in getting some information from her. Since her second year of 'high school, Sadie has been on the WESTWARD Ho! staff. Her first work was in the circulation department of the WESTWARD HO 33 business staff, during the following year she was a member of the literary staff, and at present she is the Art Editor. She regretfully remarked that because of her lessons and ac- tivities at school she was unable to attend any classes at the Maryland Institute, where she studied a few years ago. I certainly was disappointed when I found that I couldn't even major in art at school this year, but I simply couldn't, my schedule was too heavy, she re- gretfully remarked. Unhesitatingly she de- clared Spanish her favorite and most import- ant study, but was rather dubious in deciding whether later she should prefer to do some work in Spanish or in commercial art. One proof of her interest in Spanish is found in her untiring work as the President of the Spanish Club. She is also a member of the Dramatic Club. Her dramatic ability was exhibited in the Senior Play. To the 'list of offices which Sadie holds, the office of student representa- tive may be added. When Sadie has been graduated from West- ern, however, she hopes to resume her classes in commercial art at the Maryland Institute. remarking how much she While Sadie was liked artistic work, she said, I think one of my is creative drawing and greatest hobbies sketching, but my one pet abomination is copy- mg. Louise Dinsmore, '25 MIRIAM I-IENLEY, '25 VERYONE at all acquainted with the Fourth Year is acquainted with its Treas i urer, Miriam Henley, and with her dim- ples. Miriam likes being treasurer, and she in- formed me that she did not mind keeping ac- counts at all. She says: It's very easy to be treasurer this year, because the money doesn't have to be collected on the installment plan. It came in in two big installments this time. Miriam is very fond of reading, and she likes worth-while books such as Les Miser- ables. Surely no one can deny that a girl who reads Les Miserables is bright! An- other proof of her brilliance is the fact that her favorite subject is Civics. But she has a frivolous side as well. She has had two crushes: one permanent, and one tem- porary. Her chum, Dorothy, who was sitting beside her, whispered naughtily in my ear that the permanent one was a crush on herself, but I don't believe it. Miriam is uncertain whether to go to State Normal School or not, but she is very much interested in teaching, so I suppose we may conclude some day when Western has a brand- new Civics teacher that her name will be Miss Henley. Charlotte Stevem, '25 DOROTHY GOLDBERG, '25 E1 NE valuable piece of information we have ,-, gleaned from interviewing bright people 'i is-always have a chum named Dorothy. Both Miriam Henley and Dorothy Goldberg have chums by that name-perhaps it is the secret of their brightness. Brightness seems to run in Dorothy Goldberg's family, however, so perhaps she simply inherited it. Dorothy was lucky enough to be at Western during all her four years, and now, in her last year, she is planning to go to State Normal. It has always been my greatest ambition to be a teacher. When I was small and we played school, I was always the teacher, I have never wished to go to college. It doesn't in- terest me, said Dorothy. Skating, reading novels by Frances Hodgson Burnett, and playing with her little nephew oc- cupy a great deal of Dorothy's time. She has found time, however, to join the Glee Club, at- tend Professor Denues's Chorus, and take her place as one of the brightest girls in Western. C. Stevens, '25 Violet Leaves DOROTHY TRIBULL, '26. Trudging slow on my dismal way, Weary and troubled and sad, I pause as l see their fresh'ning greeng They lie in the dust-and are glacll Glacll For they know not of menacing Death As low in the dust they lie, Wild things whose fragrant lives will be crushed By the foot of the passer-byl L J W .get E, Fig EDITORIALS M DI ?f 2 FV 'I' 3ll'I'1 'V 'I' 'FMT' FU 'I' SUV' GU 'll TUV' N071 Literary Staff Editor-in-Chie f MARGARET POTTS, '25 Associate Editor LOUISE DINSMORE, '25 Assistant Editors LEILA KIRKNESS, '25 HELEN FAWCETT, '25 HELEN MATTOON, '25 SARA FEIKIN, '25 JESSIE WOLMAN, '25 IH MARJORIE GRAFFLIN, '25 951 CI-IARLoT'rE STEVENS, '25 BLANGIIE ROSNER, '25 ELEANORA BOWIJNG, '26 CATHERINE SHAW, '26 MARGARET MoRvITz, '26 Art Staff SADIE RICE, '25 JANET WHITSON, '25 Business Staff Business Manager FLORENCE Fox, '25 'RTI Circulation Manager SARAH BRODSKY, '25 D11 Advertising Manager HELEN WALTEIIS, '25 Assistants GLADYS GAWTHROP, '25 MIRIAM BAKER, '27 HELEN GAEIILER, '26 MARY WALZL, '25 LILA GALLION, '26 EDNA BUSH, '27 FREDA FRAME, '25 57 IRENE KAPLAN, '25 VIRGINIA RICH, '25 TESS FLEISCHER, '26 ESTIIER NATIIANSON, '25 FRANCES BADLER, '28 VIRGINIA MAHON, '27 Typists JENNIE WEISS, '26 IDA HAVFILOCK, '25 JANI-rr CooPER, '25 HAZEL SHUBKAGEL, '26 GERTRUDE MILLER, '25 BW RUTH BROWNSTEIN, '25 F1 LILLIAN KAI-LAN, '26 MARGARET HAYDEN, '26 Faculty Advisers MISS HELEN K. BACHRACH MISS LAURA L. ALFORD MISS DELIA R. ALI-'ORD The Editorial Adventure OW it is as a tale that is told: Huis is written, and the pen laid aside. One more ww school year is done, and once more it is ' M ' incumbent upon the senior editors of this magazine to say the official word of farewell to the school and to the work that has been theirs. That work, in the form of editing VV1-:STWARD Hol, has been one of such genuine enjoyment as 34 to be hearty encouragement to those about to take it up where it is left. Hard work it has been, and KO our successors lj hard will it continue to be, but we cannot but feel that it was worth the doing, and, without doubt, it had a very pleasant aspect. Despite the storms that have broken not infrequ-ently in the vicinity of the desk-by-the- window-on-the-left-going-in of Room 100, despite WESTWARD HO 35 the frenzied afternoon when WESTWARD Ho!'s precious dummy was mysteriously among the miss- ing fand as mysteriously reappearedj despite the seemingly endless trip to the printer's, and the stairs when one arrived, despite the sleepless fmore or lessj nights of wondering where the material was coming from and when, despite the terrors of counting words and getting stuck up with the paste, yea, in spite of all these, we have found WESTWARD Ho! more joy than woe, and it is with a sense of conferring pleasant things that the post is resigned to those who follow us. We have tried hard and sincerely to do our best for WESTWARD Ho! Of course we have VERY year the expenses of the high school girl become heavier and heavier. In addi- tion to the regular class dues, there is a .L ' i ' continual demand for money to be used for every imaginable purpose. To the many for- tunate girls to whom money is a negligible quan- tity, these oft-repeated demands make no differ- enceg but to the girls who are not so fortunate these demands do make a difference and a very great one. There are very few girls whose pride will permit them to say they cannot give, and rather than do this they will often sacrifice their lunch money for some unimportant fund. Par- had the usual moments of discouragement, not a little criticism, and one or two-er-heated alter- cations. In the main, however, we think we have strayed not too far from our ideal, and so we pass that ideal on, together with unlimited Qif desiredj advice, the fruit of our experience. Whatever we may do for the magazine in the we wish future is done for the asking. To it all success. We promise solemnly that when we are the proverbial rich and famous always send in our alumnae articles we shall on time. Could we do more? But now it is as a tale that is told: finish is written, and the pen laid aside. Margaret Potts, '25 . 51+ ticipation in the various activities often demands the expenditure of sums of moneyg for what girl wants to miss the various entertainments that break the monotony of school life and make it so delightful? The different graduating classes have adopted some project to carry on in the school in order to improve conditions. The class of 1925 has adopted the enforcement of the honor system. This is worth while: but the year which starts a campaign to reduce the expenses of the girls will do the best servic-e of all. Sara K. Feikin, '25 -5-4nuf4S'g'5Ws-:ur--+ EFORE US to whom will fall next year magazine looms the awful question, Shall we be able to do as well as our fore- runners? Shall we be able to uphold the almost incredibly high standards reached by XVESTVVARD Ho! VVe have watched with ad- ! the task of guiding the destinies of our ' ' is fiffifiii ' miration the capable way in which it has hitherto been managed, we have exulted in its success, and, mindful of the honor that has been ac- corded us, we realize that it is our task to see that VVESTWARD Ho! continues in its former path of success. Eleanora Bowlting, '25. +-4N63jfWbb-a- The Lawmakers MARJORIE GRAFFLIN, '25 You write your laws in black and white, And place your justice there: You crown them with the wreath of truth To make the harsh words fair. No matter what things may arise, You say that here our duty lies. But there's one law you cannot write- The duty to a friend. The breaking of all rules to keep The One Law in the end. And Earth no lesson can impart, Until l've learned that rule by heart. BOOK REVIEWS tl ' ' ' :ff --fl : I : U AMERICAN HISTORY By M uzzey HEN in doubt consult Muzzey. You may think that Give me liberty or give '.5.5.l5.1g me death was called enthusiastically over the housetops by General Corn- wallis, but Muzzey will prove to you beyond a doubt that it was Patrick Henry who said those memorable words. Any illusions that you may have entertained about America, the home of the free and the foremost na- tion on the globe are put in their proper places. The only reason we gained our inde- ppndence was that England wanted to get rid o us. Mr. Muzzey has an impartial habit of dis- cussing both sides of a question and arguing eloquently for each. In the end he seems un- decided regarding a conclusion, so he wisely leaves it to his readers' judgment. But he is as interesting as a novelist when he describes the villains and shady personalities in Amer- ican politics. He makes you resolve to read all their biographiesg of course you never do, but at least you resolve to. Our author has a regrettable habit of forgetting things and then putting them in a note book at the bottom of the page. And we poor, unsuspecting students think that a page with a long note on it means a short lesson. American History is a promising piece of work. Dare we hope for a novel from Mr, Muzzey's agile pen? Leila Kirkness, '25 ELEMENTARY PRINCIPLES OF CHEM- ISTRY By Brownlee, Fuller, Hancock, Sohan, Whitsit the sort of book that a man is afraid to , ,h,., LA, write all by himself. If there are any ' 'I mistakes he has no one to blame but the printer. So Brownlee, Fuller, Hancock, Sohon and Whitsit have collaborated in producing a very complete chemistry text book which is 36 LEMENTARY Principles of Qhemistry is simple enough for youthful minds to compre- hend. SOS -1- H20 - HZSO4, or, to make it more simple, H2 SO, is composed of two plus hydrogens and an SO, ion, equal to two minus- H es. Or SO4. Wllat could be clearer? H This chemistry book is really very useful. No student after reading it will dare to eat those delightful bright red cherries that come sealed in glass jars. Oh, you may not know it, but the deadly KCL has gone into the col- oring matter of those seemingly harmless cher- ries! Even salt, a necessity of everyday life, seems a little less palatable when we learn that it is composed of a poison gas and a metal that is reactionary enough to explode when it touches water. Some enterprising pu- pils hope to make d-iamonds out of their eversharps as a result of diligent study of their chemistry text books. Others now look to- ward carbon monoxide as a last resort in this cruel world. This gas is conveniently poison- ous and odorless but unfortunately cannot be purchased at a drug store. ' Let it be said that we hold no malice against the authors of Elementary Principles of Chem- istry. The book contains some really pretty pic- tures and some interestingly complete dia- grams. What is more. if these men had not written a book, someone else would have, so- Leila Kirkness, '25 BURKE ON CONCILIATION URKE'S speech on Conciliation with America is the bugbear of the fourth year English classes. The discerning student will find that the first eighty- one pages are the worst, howeverg the last page is almost interesting. Edmund Burke uses faultless Englishg his arguments are un- answerableg his logic is unescapableg and his allusions are incomprehensible. With all the requisites for a top notch speech, as it were, why was not his address eifective at the time he delivered it ?, After careful research I have unearthed these few bits of information. The members of WESTWARD HO 37 the House were so completely bored by the introduction that they filed out ofthe hall. QThe English are gentlemeng they did not stay to throw cabbages-or perhaps there was a cab- bage faminej When the speech was over, they filed back just in time to applaud loudly and vigorously. But they, of course, did not vote for Burke's plan. The colonies, as soon as they heard of the cold reception of this wonderful orator, declared the Revolutionary VVar. Burke was a clever man. He has squeezed more propositions, resolutions, and objections into his masterpiece than the Congressional Record can ever hope to attain. Leila Kirkness, '25 1 4 Af,-fgrff:f2f45zgA1 3 , 4 ' agx, -f4g,,., 1V:1'f:Qve.gg:'-fm, 1-,, . In V 1 42+-1 . V' - .' 1' ft? 'F ' WT 'ww Ziizffi' -'.1. 3: . iii.. l f 4:5 FHM,-54.44-3'..:14- 1:4 . -. ,waz .-..--.: K . A - .. V yr K. - -.His-5 ' -I V- -r ff ffifii-r?f 4.1.. 0 .' . .. ' ,, ' u -4.-I' '. ' 5 ' .WV 5 'Q' if 14. Q sf- V 'k ' f'.fn V. .3 F ir:-I3 ---L1 ,' :V u' -Q 1 ff- - VV1' -l ' .1-L a s-.V v. '.:--t- .V 4 4- .4 QV -' as ,. -1 ' Q- .-as -V .- . A , J z- 1- , X' ' in-I ,. Er 1 M E' 'I' 'F -, ' A V . 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Z - ' A D I .V '!:.4-'iffi 5355 W-1-Slifwfiebuiii-fisfaTrias A . ' V - - - ,' 5-' V -.ll-if 4 5 '-'5L Mf-nff 9313-1'--1' V ' - , .' ' . ' b..v'4E:!: ,Ein '. .R 54 -5 - , 4 A ' V 4 , - ' - : S15i-13241 '-' 'X ,: L- V . . - ' 4: i.TE:!!a -254 I vEg1z: ?.. , .. V. It V, , -. X .4 '. 4 4 44,9 G.'4,L4., , gs-gr., .... V I , , A , 4 m -, 'g' 'nn ' .-, g.',': '2gv':'u'.I1f 4 , ,. ' ,' . 4 c?5' .., V. , .' 4 'lllllll' ' ' .y, . V, 11 jir i 1, 5-i151.1' :'f' T xiii ' 'l :lfQE2Zl,ff:-e i'-. 'g':.':', . xiii. ii:ll.,., 15.gj'.'.gi-::izx,:,f4.,.r it:.':gp-5?,..,..5::.,. '. . . c. F... J.. cv O I sk 1.1 X Q, X 2 ,an 5 7 ff I X X Q XX Xxx ' Xxx XR XXX NXXX -X X XR l 1 N , ff Q VURL vi, ASSEMBLIES T the assembly of February I8 Miss Mary Faulkner, supervisor of Home Economics De- partment of Baltimore, discussed the numer- ous advantages offered in a course of home economics. Teaching home economics in the schools is an attractive occupation for the girl who likes to teach. Since dietetics plays such an impor- tant part in the homes, cafeterias, and hotels, the trained dietitian will find many desirable positions open to her. Ar present many women are employed in banks to assist depositors to formulate budgets that will enable them to spend wisely and subsequently to save money. For the girl who likes to travel, exten- sion work is recommended. These workers travel from one country place to another to give scientific aid to agricultural people. Miss Emilie Doetsch of the Baltimore News reviewed the splendid opportuni- ties of newspaper work. Dramatic criticisms, chil- dren's interests, schools, clubs, and general report- ing are phases of journalism that are available to women. Miss Doetsch recommended newspaper work as a career because it trains one's accuracy, judgment, and observation of human nature. Three Pills in a Bottle, a fantasy by Rachel Ly- man Field, was presented at the assembly on Febru- ary I9 by the Juniors. The girls in the cast ex- hibited splendid acting ability, and the play was very successful. Miss Klinesmith, honorary member of '26, was presented with a basket of flowers as a token of appreciation of her aid in making the play a suc- cess, and the girls sang their new class song written by Esther Baitz. The program was very entertaining. Miss Lizette Woodworth Reese gave an exceedingly interesting talk on Words at the assembly on Feb- ruary 25. Words, which stand for what people are and what they long to be, which stand for their dreams, for common experiences, and for all com- mon intercourse of human nature, should be selected and they should cost you something, said Miss Reese. She also cited numerous amusing examples of mis- used words to indicate the importance of knowing words and how to use them. Westernites accompanied Mrs. Elizabeth Laird of the Canton Christian College on a hasty, neverthe- less pleasant, tour through China at the assembly on February 27. Mrs. Laird, clad in a gorgeous Chinese costume, was an interesting guide who made the trip very entertaining. The audience was conducted from the busy industrial port of Hong Kong to the narrow streets of Canton where they could watch the trades- people at work. l-low interesting to observe a China- man carving an intricate pattern on a piece of ivory, or embroidering an exquisite shawll Then the girls were taken up the Pearl River where the boat people, a distinctly different type of Chinese, live as com- fortably on boats as we do in houses. Mrs. Laird spoke of China's rapid advance. in civilization: the heathen wedding, the foot binding, and the ancestral worship are gradually becoming things of the past. Christianity is slowly but surely gaining its place among these heathen people. Young men and wom- en frequently sacrilice wealth, happiness, and posi- tion to become Christians. The musical program offered by Mr. H. M'cComas, of St. Paul's Church choir, at the assembly of March 6 was very much appreciated by the school. Mr. Mc- Comas sang several attractive numbers, including: Morning, Kashmir Song, On the Road to Mandalay, Till l Wake, Until, My Dreams, and ln the Garden of Tomorrow. Miss Stella Biddison, assistant personnel manager of Hutzler Brothers, spoke to the girls of the possi- bilities of department store organization as a voca- tion at the assembly of March 8. She divided forms of occupation offered in a department store into six credit and collection work, of- groups:-advertising, lice work, personnel, merchandising, and service bu- reau work. For the girl who has ability to draw or write well, advertising will prove to be both interest- ing and beneficial. Personnel work, which includes supervision of the welfare and education of the employees, is an attractive position for the girl who has a pleasing disposition. The well-paid position of buyer is always available to the capable salesgirl. ln all the departments of a large store there is oppor- tunity for advancement and financial success. Dr. Mollie Ray Carroll, professor of economics and so- ciology at Coucher College, urged the girls to attend 39 X 40 WESTWARD HO college. She told of the various phases of social work which require a college education. Gymnasium teachers, playground instructors, general family work- ers, personnel managers, and vocational guidance aids are some of the vocations that Dr. Carroll sug- gested for the girls who are interested in social work. Everyone has had the importance of the three R's impressed upon him. At the assembly of March ll, Dr. Walter Cobb, director of Physical Education and Instruction, gave an illustrated talk in which he em- phasized the importance of the fourth R --recrea- tion. He said that recreation not only aids one to get into fit condition, but it also helps one to fit into conditions. Recreation builds up the morale of the people and encourages them, concluded Dr. Cobb. At the assembly of March ls, Mr. Alon Bement, director of the Maryland lnstitute, gave a very inter- esting talk on the theory of ambiguous perspectivei making objects appear far or near by camouflage. This theory was put to practical use during the World War: ships were painted wih various figures in order to deceive the crew of the submarine. For instance, when the captain of the submarine attempted to cal- culate the distance of the ship, he saw the ship farther away than it actually was. Mr. Bement also spoke of the inaccuracy of the eye. Louise Hook, chair- man of the Student Activities Committee, told of the purpose of this organization, which is to promote the interest of the student body in the various school ac- tivities. The committee will present awards for both athletics and scholarship to the girls who excel in either. Jessie Wolman gave a brief sketch of The Planting of the Maryland Colony, and Helen Turnbull gave a short talk on Notable Women of Maryland at the Freshmen-Sophomore assembly in commemoration of Maryland Day. At the junior-Senior assembly, Miss Laura Cairnes. principal of Eastern High School, formerly a member of Western's faculty, spoke very interesting- ly about Maryland. She related the incident in which the Maryland Assembly won the right to make its own laws. She spoke of William Henry Rinehart, foun- der of the Rinehart School of Sculpture. Miss Cairnes also talked of the Delphian Club organized in Balti- more in ISI6 to promote discussion of literary and artistic subjects. She spoke too, of the marvelous antiseptic recently discovered by a doctor at the johns Hopkins Hospital. Miss Cairnes chose these sketches of Maryland history because every Mary- lander should be proud of the alert citizenship dis- played by the members of its first assembly, of the famous man who rose from obscurity to fame, of the gayety and pleasure derived from intellectual things, and of the splendid work done in Maryland universi- ties. Az the assembly of April l, Mr. Walter Linthicum, member of Grace and St. Peter's choir, sang a num- ber of solos including, The Sweetest Flower That Grows, Under the Rose, Mighty Like a Rose, The Skippers of St. lves, Sylvia, and At Dawn- ing. His accompanist, Miss Dorothea Freytag of the Clifton Park junior High School, also enter- tained by playing a selection of her own composition. She played the Geographical Suite, a series of short sketches representing various countries, including China, Egypt, Russia, Ireland, Poland, Spain, Holland, Hungary, and America. At the assembly on April 7 Miss Lida Tall, prin- cipal of State Normal School, discussed teaching as an occupation. She said that the present age deals with raw materialsg and teaching is a profession in which the teacher's work is to mold the children, fig- uratively raw material, into a finished product. Miss Tall advised the girls to choose the work which will employ their greatest talents. She also said that no girl should attempt to teach school if she dislikes children, if she cannot confront and overcome diffi- cult problems, and if she does not like to teach. JESSIE. C. WOLMAN. '25 lRLS may come and girls may go. but Western's clubs go on forever. Probably because so 5575 many girls are expecting to leave the various clubs, the programs planned for the last meeting of the year are made especially delightful. The program planned for the May meeting of the German Club will surpass all previous entertainments which have afforded the members so much pleasure. Vex-salzen, an amusing play, in which a recently married young woman realizes the necessity of learn- ing to cook only after an argument which threatens to rupture the household happiness, will be given. The girls also anticipate a hike in the latter part of May, although they have not made any definite ar- rangements. The German Club has been very suc- cessful this year, and l am sure all the Senior mem- bers wish it even greater success next year. The Art Club has been very progressive and all the meetings have been both instructive and enter- taining, Miss Ross recently gave an interesting illus- trated lecture on great painters and their works. The club will give a bazaar and dance in the gym on April 24. Many attractive articles made in the art department will be on sale at this bazaar. Extra! Extra! New Club organized in Western! The Fencing Club, coached by Mr. F. Kaiss, of City College Fencing Team, meets for practice every other Tuesday. Charlotte Harn is President, Eleanora Bowl- ing, vice-president, Margaret Miles, secretary, and Dora Myers, treasurer. Only juniors and Seniors are eligible for membership. fNow the Freshies and Sophs have another ambition to realize to reach the heights where they will be permitted to learn to fence.l ln April the Senior members, the ofiicers, and two girls with the highest averages from all the other Latin classes will take a trip to Homewood to see the rare treasures in the museum in Gilman Hall. Dr. Robinson, who will show the girls the ancient surgical instruments, cutlery, mummies, urns, jewelry, and other interesting things in the museum, will also give a lecture. ln May, a banquet will be given in the lunch-room, which will be similar to the feasts of the Romans. Even the menu cards will be written in Latin. Each person who will be toasted will be com- pared to an ablative. For instance, the legati are to be toasted as the ablative of route, for it is through them that notices of the meeting are taken to the classes and the money for pins and dues collected. The room will be decorated with wild flowers and crepe paper, and the banquet will be quite a festive affair. Last February the Camera Club gave a cob-web party. Strings about ten or fifteen yards long were woven around the furniture in the Physics lab and after the girls unwound them, they found a red candy heart tied to each string. The club is planning to give CLUB NOTFS WESTWARD HO 41 a movie, including both an educational film and a comedy, for the benefit of the scholarship fund. A hike to Lake Roland is another pleasure that members are anxiously looking forward to. On Friday, May 8, the Math Club of Western will give the Math Club of Eastern a star party and dance. judging from the previous dances given by the club, the members are sure to have a fine time. Miss White and Miss Smith will take a number of pupils belong- ing to the Math Club to the Academy of Arts and Sciences. The Dramatic Club, energetic as usual, presented indian Summer, an English translation of the French play by Meilhac and Halevy, on April 5. Since April 23 is Shakespeare's birthday, the play com- mittee will give a short one-act play, The Ring, on April 30 to honor the great dramatist. janet Whitson has been chosen as the heroine, and Margaret Coulter as the hero in the play. This presentation, no doubt, will be just as great a success as the former ones. It is customary for the Dramatic Club to present a long play just before school closes. This year it will give Grumpy, a thriller in four acts by Horace Hodges and T. Wegney Percival. The cast has not yet been chosen. Grumpy will be given during June Week. The fourth year girls hope that the work of the Dramatic Club will be equally successful in the future. JESSIE C. WOLMAN, '25, THE TRIALS OF THE SPECIAL To the Editor of Westward Ho! There are all kinds of aches: the head ache, and the tooth ache, the back ache, and the side ache, yea, and even the heart ache. These are very common aches, and one hears of them every day. But who has heard of the ache which only a special can ex- perience? That lonesome, left out feeling which accompanies neglect? You who have never even been a special in a minor subject: do you ever halt to consider just how you would feel if you were the only DZ, D3, or CI girl in your geometry, history. or chemistry class? Are you not often inclined to discuss your lessons, tests, and the interesting little incidents that occur in class? With whom could that be done if you were a special ? When you are necessarily absent for a length of time, is not the burden of catching up much lightened by the help and personal interest of your regular class? If you were a special, there would be no such interest and help. Your work would be retarded by a sense of helplessness. Now, you stu- dents who have been and are specials : if you have been absent for quite a while from school, is not your special work the last to be made up? Have you ever wondered why? Everyone will recall some class- mate who quit school: Had she been a special in many studies? Very likely she had. With the preceding questions I have been leading up to what I consider a valuable piece of advice to the lower classmen. Try to keep with your class in all subjects: and should you happen to have a special in your own class, by taking a genuine in- terest in her, make her feel 'iin it all. '25 MID-YEAR WINNERS IN SCHOLARSHIP A I--Isabel King ........ 89.25 A 2-May Fisher ....... 86. A 3-Anna Blickstein .... 86.5 A 4-No grade above 80 per cent. A 5-Miriam Brady ......... .. . . . . . 93.25 A 8-Adelaide Drexel ..... . . . . 84.25 A 9-Minnie Sher ..... 87.2 B l-Victoria Smith. . . 92.25 Edith Coulter . . . 92. B 2-Mildred Herman. . . 89.5 B 3-Virginia Gott ...... 9l.75 B 4-Frieda Friedlander. . 9l.75 B 5-Edith Sollers ..... 94.75 B 6-Margaret Buchner.. 88.5 B 7-Fern Sticlcell ..... 84.2 Edna Busch ...... 83.4 B 8-Ruth Snesil ......... . . . 9l.4 B 9-Blanche jachman . . 85. Bl 0-Rosie Borenson. . . . . 86.8 Dorothy Alexander .... . . . 86.25 BI I-Dorothy Rosenstadt 83.6 BI2-Elizabeth Barkley .... . . . 88. BI 3-Pearl Manchey ..... 85.2 BI6-Ida Rudo ........ 86.2 BI8-Marie Minnick ..... 87.75 C I-Eleanor Bowling. . . 92. C 2-Dorothy Tribull .... 94.2 C 3-Catherine Shaw .... 89.6 Hildegarde Wagner 89.2 Mary Twaddell .... 89.2 C 4-Gertrude Young. . . 87.25 C 5-Elizabeth Carrill. . . 8l.75 C 6-Esther Baitz ....... 9l.2 C 8-Elizabeth Meredith .... . . . 89.66 C 9-Jennie Weiss ...... 87.8 CIO-Dorothy Stidman. . . 85.8 Cl I-Ruth Cathcart ..... 87. CI5-Evelyn Curry .... 82.5 D l-Margaret Potts. . . 90.2 Christine Grace .... 90. D 2-Marjorie Grafflin. . .N 92.4 Mildred Howard .... 92.4 D 3-Elizabeth Crise . . 90. D 4-Lena Reilly ....... 86.4 D 5-Jennie Fine ....... 89.2 D 6-Dorothy Goldberg.. 90.75 D 7-Sarah Marks fGraduateJ ...... . . . 89.25 D 7-Miriam I-Ienley fNon-Graduate, . . . . . . 90.45 D 8-Lucille Stanton. . . .. 88.5 Dora Myers ......... . . . . . 88. D 9-Dinah Grossman. . . 89.7l Jessie Wolman ..... 89.28 DI 0-Sadie Rice ....... 9I .8 DI l-Bessie I-Iosen .... 84. if if 1' ' 2 Xi T fo fif K XX x , . OJ S J! W1 1- N I -v xi THLETICS W A kEt.lll'2.'5' I , SPRING !-BASKETBALL l-THRILLS l S soon as the return of the birds the croaking of the frogs in the marshes, the fresh green- Viif . ' ness of the new grass the blossoming of the buds on the trees begin to foretell Spring, then do the fancies of the Western girls lightly turn to thoughts of basketball. The basketball season this year opened with the tournaments between the homeroom classes. This was a new feature this year, and it afforded a great deal of extra pleasure. On Monday, March 2, C4's team defeated C3's team with a score of 20 to 7. The following Wed- nesday CI and C5 competed, and C5 came out ahead with a score of 25 to ll. After C5 had gained a second victory in a game with C3 fMonday, May 91, which resulted in a score of 46-0, the championship game was held, on Friday, the thirteenth. If any of the girls had superstitions with regard to the unfor- tunate combination of Friday the thirteenth, they were disappointed, for neither side suffered unusual ill luck-the score was tied 6-6. The line-up of the two evenly matched teams was as follows: C4 C5 T. Greenberg . . . . . .... F. . . . . . . . F. Greenawalt M. Blout.... .......... F.... Benson E. Rice fcaptainj ..... C. ..... ..... E . Blackwell F. Skutch ........... ls. C. .......... R. Stewart D. Anderson ......... .G.. . V. Cullom fCaptainJ B. Wellener . . .... . .... G. . . . ...... M. Strickland The basketball tournament among the Sophomore classes came to a close with Bl and B2 in the finals. After a very exciting game Bl won with a score of 65. All the games in the tournament were enjoyed by the girls, but the last was the best. These were the girls on the winning team: M. Baker fCaptainj . . . . . . .F E. Black .......... ..... F . C. Baisch ........ .... S . C. M. Armstrong . . . . . .C. M. Sands ..... . . .G. C. Tull ....... ........... G . Then began the interclass games-the games of the season. Cheer leaders were chosen first for the junior-Senior game, Helen Manzer and Bessie Mazor by the Seniors, and Helen Clark, Ann Samuelson, Pep Zeigler, and Fannie Miller, by the juniors. The week before the game, the staunch upholders of the two classes closed themselves in separate rooms daily and yelled. And on Saturday, March 24, they cheered- how they did cheer!-from eight till ten when the 42 game began, and then they held their respective breaths until the end-except when goals were made or time was called. Between the halves, fourteen Seniors dressed as wooden soldiers marched to the tune of The Parade of the Wooden Soldiers, sang and presented The Great junior-Senior Basketball Game -a comedy in one scream. lt was, without a doubt, the Hrst and best game. Grim Determination appeared on both sides so fre- quently that no one knew which would claim most of him and-victory. The Seniors won: the score was 4l-28. The Seniors won: the tiny, white, fluffy dog, the juniors' mascot, bravely barked his defiance: and Archibald, the pickaninny, who proudly wore the Seniors' colors, grinned his delight. ' Then the Sophomores and Freshmen began to pre- pare for the fray. The Sophs chose Margaret Thomas and Virginia Mahon to lead in cheers, and the Fresh- ies chose Rose Sullivan, Jeannette Heghinian, and Jeannette Leopold. The game was held in the gym- nasium Saturday, March 28. The Freshies fought hard and cheered tumultuously, but the Sophs were the victors with a score of 39 to their 8. The Twins, two of their smallest, were the mascots of the Freshmen: Miss Sophie lVf'ore, one of their largest, was the mascot of the Sophomores. So the Seniors and the Sophomores met the next Saturday, April 4, to compete for the championship. The Spirit of '76 with just enough alterations to make it The Spirit of '25, represented by three Seniors, led the Senior team on the floor. Between the halves the Seniors represented their sure victory by an Indian sortie in which the attracking Sopho- more tribe, upon hearing the war-whoop of the mighty Senior tribe, raced off the scene, dragging with them the trees behind which they had hidden. The Senior tribe then took their daily dozen, in the form of a war dance around the campfire, to the tune of: Umpa, umpa, umpa, umpa, Killy, killy, killy, killy, Wash, wash, wash, wash, Ke-a-ke-a-ka-wah! etc. The Seniors won the victory: the score was 46-4. Then Dr. Becker presented the Freshmen with their 28's, the Sophomores with their 27's, the juniors with their 26's, and the Seniors with their l925's. The line up of the class teams was as follows: Seniors Juniors K. Cessford H. Wagner B. Ulman E. Greenawalt E.. Lewis E. Rice WESTWARD HO 43 H. Lamar D. Seward H. Turnbull fCapt.j V. Cullom fCapt.J N. Hilleary B. Gilpin B. Nixdorff B. Wellener E. Wilhelm T. Greenberg Sophomores Freshmen NI. Baker fCapt.J N Waters D. Edwards B. Shapiro E. Bargar D Ford M. S. Purcell B. Jones fCapt.J C. Lull E. Carson P. Schapiro P. Smith E. McPherson L. Foxworth S. Neale A Keydash F. Hiss S. Trivas V. Smith After the game the teams and the cheer leaders held the yearly feast in the lunchroom. As usual, there was much food and much yelling. They cheered for everyone and everything in sight. Archie, 25's mascot, astonished everyone by refusing to eat chick- en and by making eyes at everyonel On Tuesday, March 3l, the first of the games scheduled between Western and Eastern was held in the gym and resulted in victory for the Easternites. The score was 39-33. In the second game held in the gymnasium of the Eastern High School the East- ern girls again won the victory with a score of 48-25. And now that Spring is here to stay awhile, with warm air, blue sky, and bright sunshine in her train, the athletes greet the outdoor sports with glee, and are practicing for the honors to be awarded in the tennis and volleyball tournamentsl ' HELEN FAWCETT, '25. THE STUDENT ACTIVITIES COMMITTEE HE Student Activities Committee, a new organi- zation in the school, held a dance Wednesday. NWA April I5. Some of the proceeds will be used to pay for the athletic and non-athletic awards which will be presented in June to girls according to athletic ability, scholarship, literary ability, executive ability, and general school spirit. One purpose of this organi- zation is to promote interest in all student activities, that is, to have every girl in the student body active in one or more organizations in the school, and to create in everyone a lceener interest in athletics. Another purpose is suitably to reward girls, who, in the opin- ion of the faculty and the committee, best deserve to be rewarded according to their particular ability. LOUISE HOOK, '25, Chairman. DREAMS FRANCES HEAPS, ' 2 5. I saw a robin yesterday, And tho the trees were bare, He sang with such a merry note That spring seemed everywhere. I saw a golden daffodil, And then in my mind's eye, I saw each rose that blooms in june 'Neath sunny summer sky. I felt the touch of warm South Wind: He bore me far away: And now, I think I'II ne'er return To lands of everyday. WESTERN VIGNETTES SADIE RICE, '25. - The far off clatter of dishes-the nearby hum of voices. shrill laughter, rising inflections, essentially feminine shrieks. Casual strolling and purposeful striding. Sadly littered tables-food but half de- voured. The clink of money. A surge to the gym, clearing the lunch room. The jazzy tinlcling of the piano, accompanied by snatches of song. Swaying figures-the watching side lines-the insistent peal of a bell. M fp A merry hum of conversation-moving figures, displaying myriad colors. The faint sound of a bell- unheeded.-The banging of seats.-A half-pleading, half authoritative request for silence from the plat- form. The subsiding bee-hive-comparative quiet. A sudden excited clamoring for library slips.-Frantic pandemonium for a moment.-The restoration of order. A sibilant whisper, a sharp beckoning, and the offender is installed upon the first row.-Calm. XX lx U XXSX N , TS X -, N S fig .gif 5 Driving rain, gleaming streets, dripping forlorn trees-bobbing umbrellas, darting figures, bright hued hats, and flowing coats:--the attendant swain bidding adieu to a fair damsel 'neath the protecting umbrella. The swish of automobiles, the slam of doors, swift nos- ing into and away from the curb. Cay laughter, shrill voices, the shuf'I'le of feet-the startling ringing- of a bell, sharp exclamations-the Lafayette Avenue entrance to Western at 8:45 on a rainy day. . 5 FIIJEETIIJN EU Ques. What good is a high school diploma? A PESSIIVIIST. Ans. Without much forethought I should say none. It makes an excellent picture, adding a very dignified touch to one's library, and gives Ioving parents or doting aunts something over which they may glory. But even these uses soon grow valueless, for the date on the diploma becomes too old, and one hides it away, and parents find something newer to interest them. Yet, it is some good, or else we wouIdn't have to work so long and so hard to get it. In applying for a position, the girl who can show her high school diploma is much more apt to receive the position than the one who just went through high school, but did not graduate. No girl can go to college or to any higher institution without one, although not everyone who has her diploma is admitted. As the foundation is essential to a building, so a high school diploma is essential to higher education. Quel. Is there any regular system for ringing the bells at lunch-time? STARVATION'S CHILD. Ann. There is a regular system, but it depends upon your physical condition whether or not it is recognized. The bell for lunch is supposed to ring on one floor first one day, second the next, and so on, yet to very hungry mortals, or Starvation's children, it always rings last on their particular floor. Ques. Are the mid-year girls to be classed as a half-year higher or a half-year lower? SHIRLEY BLUM, '2 7. Ani. It has been decided that the present way of classifying the mid-year girls with the class which graduates in the following june shall stand. Ques. Does the Dramatic Club have any particular name? There used to be a Mask and Wig Club. K. B. Ans. The club has no special or fancy name, only The Dramatic Club of the Western High School. The Mask and Wig Club was the first form of Dra- matic Club in the school, and was organized by Miss Bachrach in I9I5-I9I6, principally for the study of drama. Plays were read and studied, and talks were given on dramatics. The girls prepared plays with a double cast, as in our Junior play, Three Pills in a Bottle, and some girls wrote plays, one of which was produced very successfully for the public. 44 just a few years ago the club was reorganized into the present Dramatic Club with Miss Anna Harrison as faculty adviser. And so this is the tale of how the Dramatic Club. of which Miss Kleibacker is now faculty adviser, came into existence. May it live happily ever afterl Ques. What is the oldest club in the school? A DEALER IN ANTIQUES. Ans. I think the oldest club of those now existing is the Camera Club, organized in I9I5. Oh, yesI It seems that the desire to see how she looked, whether it was in the mirror or in a picture, was the first one in the mind of the Westernite. Ques. What is meant by flowery language? E. NESBITT, '26. Ana. Flowery language? Goodness, if you are not acquainted with that which is the greatest friend in tests or in anything else when all other knowledge deserts you, I should advise you, for your own satis- faction, to learn something about it. Even though it very seldom carries over with the teacher, it makes you feel better for having written or said something. The dictionary says it is over-ornamented with figures of speech: ornate: profusely embellished: full of triHing ornamental phrases. It is most commonly used in tests, in themes fespecially when quantitv. not quality, is clesiredj, and in oral reports ffor in- stance, historyl. Some of our would-be poets use it the most: we frequently find it displayed in poems, such as To the Lovely Spring. If you want an example, go in almost any class- room, preferably on Monday morning, and listen to recitations. HELEN MATTOON, '25, WINTER'S NIGHT The glory of a winter's night, When cold winds harshly blow, And the silver of the pale moonlight Falls on the fields of snowI The ice holds fast the frozen stream Like crystal bare and bright: The frost in sparkle and in gleam, Sends forth its heatless light. C. HARN, '26. WESTWARD HO 45 LANS are well under way for the last issue of the Echo. That part of the magazine devoted to Tffff? the graduating class promises to be unusually fine. The committee, all embryonic jokesmiths, were capable and efficient. There is small danger of a last- minute rush. To defray expenses of the magazine it has been suggested that copies of the school song be sold. It is a fine idea, but whether it is workable re- mains to be seen. EASTERN ECHOILS The fourth year was the guest of the Alumnae As- sociation at a dance April IS. lt was a thoroughly enjoyable affair. The mystery of the lower class- men's desire to be Seniors is now entirely unravelled. The Lanier Club held an interesting meeting April 3. Pantomimes of fairy tales were the feature of the program. From every point of view the Lanier has had a successful year. Anti-noise week, inaugurated by the Student Coun- cil, was a success that exceeded our fondest hopes. During the entire week, noise was conspicuous by its absence. We have all developed the much-desired sweet low voices. Our athletic stars, who so nobly brought us victory after victory, were honored recently by a banquet. We are proud of them and greatly appreciate the new laurels unto Eastern. Cherry-blossom time is just the right time to visit the nation's capital. A band of Seniors who made the trip afford ample evidence to that statement. The en- tire trip was one of instruction and delight. The S. P. R., alias Latin Club, will soon hold its election for next year's officers. Eastern is now the center of a storm of last meetings and Senior finals. An unusually eventful year is working up to a fitting climax. , THE ORIOLE H5 lTH the year rapidly drawing to a close and en- couraged by the success of great activities of the past, the Senior Class is preparing for future achievements of a still higher order. Work on the Creenbag is proceeding smoothly, and an ex- cellent publication is forecasted. On Friday, May l5, the Senior Prom will be held at the Hotel Belvedere. At a Senior Class meeting President Donald P. Roman appointed the following committee for the Banquet: J. Hanington Levi, Chairman, Stanley L. Cahn, and Earle Parker. Under the management of such a capable committee the event is expected to outshine all the Senior Proms of the past. The junior Class is likewise engaged in many and varied activities. The junior Hop was such a huge success, socially and financially, that a junior Barn Dance will be held at Community Hall on the night of May the first. Burt Hamman's Hicks will sup- ply the music. The March Oriole, edited by a junior staff, headed by Philip Stark, maintained the high standard of quality of the issues edited by the regular staff. Not to be outdone by the upper classmen, the Sophomore Class has organized and recently attracted the attention of the entire school by defeating the Seniors for the championship of the intra-mural bas- ketball tournament. The annual track and field meet, in which about seventy-five per cent of the student body will com- pete, will be held under the auspices of the Athletic Association on April 24, at Homewood. At a recent assembly the Natural Science Club was host to the school and provided an interesting and instructive program. At another we were addressed by Miss Strout, of the Women's Christian Temperance Union. She told of her extensive travels in the Orient, and she mentioned the courtesy of the Eastern peo- ples as compared to American impoliteness. Follow- ing this, the prizes for the Oriole short story and poetry contests were awarded by joseph G. Goldstein, business manager of the publication. Hewlett B. Cox won first prize in both short story and poetry contests. Benjamin Harris and David von Cohn were awarded second prizes in the short story and poetry contests respectively. All the clubs, societies, and fraternities are prepar- ing for supreme events with which to close the season. The Fencing Club, whose motto is join the Fencing Club--And Stick, is preparing for the annual cross- ing of swords with Poly. FOREST PARK NEWS S the third quarter draws to a close and the Easter Holidays approach, the dignified Seniors 'CWS are continually planning and replanning their program for june Week. The events of the week as planned are as follows: Commencement, Tea Dance, Pageant, Banquet, Prom, and Play. The play, which is going to be presented in the evening, is one in which all the actors can display their talents to amuse the audience. It is being coached by Miss Coughlin, the head of the history department. lt is being rumored that the boys are going to blossom forth in white flannel trousers and blue coats, both at the Prom and at the Commencement. The Jolly junior jubilee, given by the class of 1926, went off with a bang. ln the one evening of the performance the amount of money cleared amounted to about thirteen hundred dollars. They feel quite proud of their achievement, and, in fact, the whole school is proud of them, too. They are now planning to give a junior Hop at the Emerson Hotel some time in May. The Forrester, Forest Park High School's Maga- zine, will make its debut May I. There will be two issues published this year. The second issue will be given over to the fourth year for pictures and biogra- phies of its distinguished members. Well, l suppose your Westernites are planning with a great deal of expectation your june Week and l hope things work out to meet every one's idea of the MARIORIE HAINES, Exchange Ed., Senior Press way they should. DREAMERS Dreams are made of shabby stuff, A stuff that's frail and thin, 0ur golden castles tumble down, Those things that might have been. But still we build our castles high, We dream on through the years- Life holds so much in store for us, Of laughter and of tears. DOROTHY GERMANN, '26. SHORT cuTs TO LITERARY FAME REBELLION E. Seniors all were Freshies-once. We entered E Western's halls with a feeling of pride that we Qfpjfj were at last grown up. But to our chagrin the whole school smiled upon us condescendingly and called us children. The word crushed our spirits and we bowed our heads and so were thought meek and mild. When sophomores, we again raised our heads, only to discover that though the Freshies looked up to us, everyone else looked down on us and again marked us as children. Then we became Juniors1 proud, stately, lovable, the envy of our younger and walk with lordly stride, and the Freshmen and greeted us with that hated name-children. One more year has passed, and at last we are Seniors- Seniorsl-those brilliant majestic creatures-those mysterious, adorable creations-made only to be praised and worshipped! We toss back our heads and walk with lordly stride, and the Freshmen and Sophomores and juniors gaze on us in awe. Oh, we are marvelous beings, beautiful and wise! And yet, in spite of our beauty and sagacity, there are those who do not realize our worth and who, looking upon us without awe, without adoration, bring down against our sacred name that detestable, sickening word- children. We are not children! Why have we worked for three long years, why have we striven to become noble and industrious, if, having reached our goal, we are given the same general appellation as the Freshmen? Why do we have Senior Day, become ac- knowledged leaders, assume responsibilities? Also, why do I waste my time in writing this article? For I know perfectly well that all the raving in the world cannot move your cruel hearts, and that those for whom this -is meant will tomorrow be staring re- proachfully at some member of our glorious class and saying, That Child with a red dress on! Come here. MARJORIE GRAFFLIN, '25. THE PARK POLICEMAN E is a short, chubby little man, very pink, slight- m ly wrinkled, and uncommonly genial. With his V white mustache and hair and round, merry blue eyes, he looks quite like a pretty toy with all its paint fresh.. As though mechanically, he raises his blue- coated arm in salute to each passerby. For each driver of the endless stream of machines, he has a smile and a nod. Many have learned to look for the stout, elderly figure in its trim uniform, ornamented by gleaming brass buttons, and to answer the old man's kindly greeting. What would the morning drive to town be without a sight of the rosy, smiling face of the park policeman? LEILA KIRKNESS, '2s. 46 AFTER READING IBSAYS Y impressions of essays before and after a stren- uous campaign to acquaint myself with them Jllli are widely different. I once considered the es- say a thing to be evaded-the musings of some mo- rose intellect-meant purely to bore and dampen the spirits of the reader. Pessimism itself at the begin- ning of my drive, I was thoroughly determined to find torture in the assigned work. I made my start. Sure- ly these were not essays! They were delightful! Christmas Underground and Family Prayers somewhat buoyed me from my self-appointed martyr- dom. Would all essays be like this? Of course not! These were merely bright spots in the essay field- few and far between. Still prejudiced, I continued to read. Dinner reminded me of home. The Crossword Puzzle exactly described a Sunday even- ing situation at our house. Goodness, these are fine, I thought: I'll read some more I The Philolo- gy of Baby Talk revealed something ! had often wondered about- why do babies utter the sounds they do, and not different ones? The Unproverbial City Home is undoubtedly true to- life. Who, having once ridden in the subway of a metropolis, does not experience with the author the sensations of being pushed onto, or dragged from, a train, ready to move? Last, but far from least, was Shakespeare the Mur- book or derer. This exposition, more than any teacher, has caused me to think about Shakespeare, and finally to realize what a genius he really was! By this time, after I have read conscientiously and ex- tensively, I feel enthusiastic about essays, and from now will read them for the real entertainment I have found them to afford. DOROTHY CARL, '25. A MAN I SEE FREQUENTLY happy. The most noticeable thing about him S-l at first, is the fact that he is very lame. It is, perhaps, pity which makes you observe him more closely. His head is bare, showing his heavy, waving hair, almost white, as hair often is when, its owner has suffered much physical pain. He wears no over- coat, even in the coldest weather. His shoulders are broad and are thrown back with the air of a con- queror. It is his face, however, which pleases you most. Blue eyes, keen but laughing, are set under a smooth high forehead. Often tiny crow's feet appear at the corner of his eyes as he smiles at all passers- by. His nose is straight, delicately formed. His lips, always smiling, are parted over strong, even, white teeth. His firm cheeks are ruddy and wind-blown. Your look of pity quickly changes to one of admira- tion for a man who, so dreadfully handicapped by na- ture, yet wears a smile for everyone. MARY HELEN PARKER, '25. HERE he is again. the man who seems always 1 1, ' WESTWARD HO 47 HE scene that I looked upon was a dreary one. E A seemingly endless array of back yards met NW my eyes. It seemed that for the last ten. years at least nothing had been done to improve those sor- did surroundings. The sky was overcast with gray clouds that only served to heighten the gloom of this unfriendly spot. Fences once white, now a black non- descript color, swayed as the March wind blew lustily down the alley, adding to the disorder by scattering papers from overflowing trash boxes everywhere. Wash lines hung limply from one end of the diminu- tive yards to the other. Were they never taken down? It seemed not, as they seemed to be about as old as the boards to which they were fastened. A grimy yellow-looking wash Happed in the wind. The yards as far as I could see were mere splashes of un- kept earth and places for refuse of all kinds. Some of the gates opening into the alley had been wrenched from their hinges and lay upon the ground. Some sagged open on one hinge. A lean hungry-looking dog looked in at one of these gates, sniffed at the ash can, then turned away, his tail hanging dejectedly between his legs. KATHERINE SCI-IOONMAKER, '27. BACK YARDS T was a grey day just the kind that gives one the blues. The snow, which a few days be- Qfffjf fore had beautified the monotonous street, with its rows of houses maddeningly alike, now lay in dirty heaps along the gutter. The grey spire of a church stood in bas-relief against the leaden sky. The horn of an infrequent auto would every now and then moan its warning. The street was deserted with the exception of a solitary figure, whose general appearance was con- sistent with the day. He was a gray man, literally, and of Lilliputian proportions. His hands and face were of an ashy hue, the latter covered with a short over- AN IMPRESSION hoary beard of an undetermined age. His seedy coat had probably once been black, but age had made it threadbare and had given it a shiny steel color. His tattered cap was also grey: even his shoes were grey with age. His left arm was twisted, and his right foot dragged wearily. With the assistance of a short cane, this dismal caricature of man plodded his way up the gloomy street. IRENE F. KAPLAN, '25. EXAMINATION for CANDIDATES for GRADUATION Compiled and Edited by BLANCHE ROSNER, A. B. C. I-Do you know: fa, I-Iow many beans there are in a plate of Western's bean soup? How many bells there are between the end of the fourth period and the begin- ning of the fifth? fc, How many oh's there are in a Fresh- Cb? man? fd? What constitutes a Senior? fel How many weII's there are in a student stalling for time? ffl How to weep yourself out of a Misconduct Mark? II-Can You: Cal Open a bottle of milk without spilling more than half of it? Chew caramels during one French period without being caught? tbl fel Convince a teacher that you know what you mean., when you don't? Sing the latest song hit for the edifica- tion of your classmates without being sent to the office? fel Hide a gum drop under your tongue while you make your report in history class? ffl Walk up and down the steps leading to the lunchroom ten times without falling more than twice? the word which best fits in the blank spaces in the following: fa, A Teacher is a ...... diamond, instruc- tor, preacher, warden A Westernite is a ...... cowgirl, stu- dent, fashion plate, brick fel Margie Maxwell is ...... cute, adorable, sweet, marvelous The book was ...... good. Terribly, aw- fully, dreadfully, some - Cdl III-Check tbl Cdl fel She wore a ...... dress. Swanky, gor- geous, magnificent, snaky ffl He's some ...... . sheik, cakie, cow- buy. Pippin IV-In one coherent sentence, give your opinion of two of your teachers. V-If possible, name one fact you have learned in each of your studies. rf 5 I in W I' ' l- f' .- f , , H l Ml., X, n I ,, ' , YV, il 'lfelqll .. 2: HQ Q MY lk ,. gksgfiiigtw - ly ' H ' -lf 'ee f K .-' N f fied' X s Q x ' zaxx. a.v...o.. GTD- 50 THE CLASS OF MARGARET JANE . ADDISON The light of midnight's star- ry heaven, Is in those radiant eyes. DOROTHY ALEXANDER Slow but steady wins the race. EVELYN ARNOLD If to her share some female errors fall, Look in her face and you'1l forget them all. ELIZABETH BABYLON No man is blest by accident or guess. True wisdom is the price of happiness. CLARISSA BAKER Hail, fellow, well met. ELIZABETH BALLARD So goodly was she with so much grace, That each her loved that 'looked on her face. Q MATILDA BARKLEY Shreds of wit and senseless rhymes Blundered out a thousand times. ' MILDRED BASSFORD The mildest manners with the bravest mind. B RUTH BASSFORD Of cheerful yesterdays and confident tomorrowsf' ELIZABETH BECHTOLD A little nonsense now and then Is relished by the best of men. NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE' 51 DORA BECKER Gentle, kind and just- Faithful to every trust. EMM, A Q ELAINE H. BEHREND Sooner or later a man will shine for all he is worth. MOLL IRENE ' MAN' Small ature, but large hx lect. MINNIE BELAGA We love being in loveg that's the truth on it. LILLIAN BENESCH Fashion the arbiter and rule of light. MARION BENNETT If music be the food of love, play on. ROSABELLE BERLIN I dare not trust these eyes! They dance in mists, and dazzle with surprise. EMMA VIRGINIA BETTON A loving little life of small, sweet works. JANE BIRD Nature creates merit, and fortune brings it into play. B MARIE BLACK The ripest peach is highest on the tree. U S2 , X I ur! W , .X f ,f J ESTELLE BLUM Grace was in all her steps, heav'n in her eyeg In ev'ry gesture dignity and love. PRISCILLA RUTH BLUMBERG Much talking leads to ex- haustiong he who is wise knows when to stop. D VIRGINIA RANDOLPH BONDAY Where there is music, there can be nothing bad. MARION BONNEY Knowledge comes, but wis- dom lingers. ROSA E. BORENSTEIN They who work best talk the least. LILLIAN BOUIS He cannot fail who resolves upon success. MARION ELAINE BOWER For ever yet Ilpved to be gayln A Y CELESTE BRANDAU Her heart was in her work, and the heart Giveth grace unto every act. ! RUTH BRANDY Slim as the flags, And every whit as fair. HELEN BRANSKY They whom. truth and wis- dom lead Can gather honey from a weed. NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE 53 BLANCHE BRAVE Thus live these somnambu- lists called lovers. ANNA BREYER What's built upon esteem can ne'er decay. PIERCE VIRGINIA BRILLHART Much is she worth, and even more is made of her. SARAH BRODSKY 'Sudden glances, sweet and strange, Delicious spites and darling angers. E D. BISSELL BROOKE 'Manner is all in all, what e'er is Writ, The substitute for genius, sense, and wit. MARGARET BROWN Her eyes, as soft and blue as even When day and night are calmly meeting. Q NEVA KEMPTON BROWN The wealthy curled darlings of our nation. Q BROWNSTIEN Her pencil drew whate'er her soul des1g'n'd. RUTH REGENA ww 'W ' ' 1 NELLIE BULL In every industry or great or small 'Tis industry supports us all. LILLIAN BURK Take me just as I am. 6 at 54 MARY ELEANOR BYERLY The eyes are jewels with which the face is adorned. ELIZABETH CAMPBELL And certainly she was a merrye note, Well could she synge and pleyen. DOROTHY CARL Good manner and soft words have brought many a difficult thing to pass. Q IRENE ANTOINETTE CARLTON Anyone can be a lady if she choose. B ERMA CARNEY 'Playful blushes that seem nought But luminous escape of thought. ETHEL CHARLOW Of all things gathered she the fit T' enrich the storehouse of her wit. ELEANOR E. CHILDS The good man thinks of himself least of all. EDITH MAE CLAGGETT There are plenty of ac- quaintances in the world but very few real friends. ELLEN NESBITT CLARKE They laugh that win. LOUISE CLEMSON A merrv heart goes all the day. NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE 55 MARY VIRGINIA CLOGG In framing artists, art has thus decreed: To make some good, but others to exceed. U. .. wwf 'UAW .s ' 5 BESSIE COHEN Be to her virtue very kind, Be to her faults a little blind. SADYE COHEN Fair as a star when only one is shining in the sky. B THELMA COLLINS Mindful not of herself. Q RUTH COOK Extremely busy but quiet about it. KATHRYN ELIZABETH COONEY She that was ever fair, and never proudg Had tongue at will, and yet was never loud. B ANNA ELEANOR COOPER Gent1eness is invincible. Q MARY COPLAN Her eyes are homes of si- lent prayer. Q DOROTHY DOLL CORRELL What do we live for if it is not to make life less dif- ficult for each other? Q ELEANOR COURTNEY CREUTZER Plain sense but rarely leads us far astray. 56 THE CLASS OF ELIZABETH CRISE And with unwearied fingers drawing out, The lines of life from liv- ing knowledge hid. Q ELEANOR BOONE CROMWELL For some she cast her mod- est eyes below At some her gazing glances roving flew. ANNA LOUISA CROWLEY Benyne she was and won- der d1l1gent. 1' I Azusa M1115 X DOROTHY ELIZABETH CUTLER Her lips are like two bud- ded roses. V Q GRACE CURRAN Her very frowns are fairer far Than smiles of other mlaid- ens are. FLORENCE ELEANOR DASCH Mildness governs more than anger. DOROTHY DAVENPORT Kindness-a language which the dumb can speak and the deaf can under- stand. J ESSIE DAVIS Genteel in personage, Conduct and equippagel' CATHERINE DEBRASKY She has a heart to resolve, a head to contriveg and a hand to execute. HELEN DEITSCH And all the beauty of the place Is in the heart and in the face. NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE 57 RAE DENNER The smiles that win, the tints that glow, A mind at peace with all the world. Q EVELYN DEWLING Well-languaged Daniel. LOUISE DINSMORE 'Mistress of herself, tho' China fall. ELSIE DOLINE 'Much mirth and no mad- ness. MARY VIRGINIA DONNELLY 'Well could she sing and lustyly Her voice ful clere and she ful sweete. Wifi RUTH DORNHECKER The queen of loveliness thou art no less The queen of modesty and grace. Q ROSA DORTCH But oh! she dances such a way, no sun upon an Easter Day is half so fine a sight. E DOROTHY S. DUER Style is the dress of thoughts. ALBERTA DUGAN Begone my care, I give you to the wind. 1 MARY DUNLAP 'Patience is good, but joy is best. 58 THE CLASS OF GENEVIEVE EARLY Courteous tho coy, gentle tho retired. EVELYN EARP Thoughtless of beauty, she was beauty's self. Q LOUISE EBERMAN An angel, or, if not, An earthly paragonf' THELMA EBERT dancing shape, an image gay!! HA Q MARY EHLERS Her air had a meaning, her movements a grace, You turned from the fairest to gaze on her face. EDNA EISEL The dearest, the sweetest, most lovable too, Best kind of a sport and a pal true blue. Jqffi gi J Q CHARLOTTE ERTHAL Earth seemed more sweet to live upon More full of love because of her. F. ELIZABETH EWING Industry makes all things easy. GERTRUDE FAGAN A thing of impulse And a child of song. HELEN FAWCETT Look, she's winding up her watch of wit, By and by it will strike. NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE 59 0 SARA Fil Sweetnes 'and outh and spriglicly 1 hope and graceful icy. F ISABEL FINEBERG Hospitality combined with grace. Honest labor bears a lovely face. Q ANNE FELDMAN As in beauty she surpassed the quire So nobler than the rest was her attire. hy., ! LILLIAN FELDMAN As in beauty she surpassed the quire, So nobler than the rest was h tt' er a xre In H JPJ WCW awk Q ANNA FILTZER Laugh and the world laughs with you. JENNY FINE Possessed an air and grace by no means common. SELMA FITEMAN As frank as rain on cherry- blossoms. MARGARET FIX Begone, dull Care, I prithee begone from meg Begone, dull Care, thou and I shall never agree. ROSA FONAROFF She contains all bliss. ROSAMOND KENT FORMAN Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes. C M THE CLASS OF ETHEL FOWLER She will outstrip all praise and make it halt behind her. MARIE FOWLER She taketh most delight in music, instruments and poetry. Q FLORENCE MAE FOX 'Life shoots and glances thro' your veins, And flashes off a thousand ways. if M- SW' Q 1 FREDA FRAME 'I have bought golden opin- ions from all sorts of people. field! CELIA FRANKEL 'Look on her face and you'll forget them all. DOROTHY FRANKLIN 'Earth is here so kind, just tickle her with a hoe and she laughs with a har- vest. RUTH FREDERICK 'Smile with intent to do mis'- chief. I ANNETTE FRIEDMAN Youth calls for pleasure. HORTENSE FREUD Imagination rules the world. EVELYN PHYLLIS GALLUP Her eyes like twinkling stars in evening Were deckt with smyles that sad humor closed And darted forth delights that goodly graced her. NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE 6l ANNA GALPERIN They are never alone who are accompanied with noble thoughts. GLADYS GAWTHROP 'Cheeks like the mountain pinks That grow among white headed majestiesf' , f-40 - I iJ- wwf '1Q'l-LZL ! ELIZABETH GEMMILL 'The rose's crimson life has given That cheek its glowing dyes. PEARL MAY GERSOW Be studious in your profes- sion and you will be learned. YMWQYYI, Q VIRGINIA GETTIER 'Tis said the lion will turn and flee From a maid in the pride of her purity. H Cl H sc PAULINE GLANN Grace was in all her steps, heav'n in her eyes, In every gesture, dignity and love. Q EDNA GLICK Her talents were of the more silent class. B ADA GOLDBERG Whence is thy learning? Hath thy toil O'er books consumed the midnight oil? DOROTHY FRANCES GOLDBERG By the work one knows the workman. J EANNETTE GOLDBERG Roses are her cheeks and a rose her mouth. Her rosy lips still wear a 'The very smile before you 62 THE CLASS OF ALMA GOLDMAN smile. Q LILLIE GOLDMAN 'If music be the food of love, E play on sneak That dimples your trans parent cheek Encircles all the heart. pw -es ROSA IRMA GOLDMAN ,fuilqf B FRANCES GORE Oh! blessed with temper whose unclouded ray, Can make tomorrow cheer- ful as today. PEGGY GONDELOCKS For mirth prolongeth life and causeth health. TERESA GRABER Conduct is three-fourths of our own life And its largest concern. U CRISTINE GRACE My thoughts are my com- panionsf' B MARJORIE LYON GRAFFLIN Time, place and action may with pains be wrought, But genius must be born, and never can be taught. I . 9 Q ELSA GRASER You are as welcome as the Bowers that bloom in May. IRMA GREIFZU Discretion, the better part of valor. NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE 63 ROSE GREENBERG Tomorrow will take care of itself. MARIE GREENHOOD 'A young maiden's heart Is a rich soil, wherein lie many germs. D FRANCIS GRIFFITHS 'Sweet are the tho'ts that savour of contentg The quiet mind is richer than a crown. DINAH GROSSMAN 'Such coming and such go- ing, Bustle, stir and such know- ing And yet the maid so small. ADA HALPERT 'Thy voice is a celestial mel- ody. ca ELISE HANLINE Lo, how she doth surprise us with her many arts! ELSIE HARRIS Pleasure sets her soft seal there. Q FLORENCE EMERSON HARRIS Maiden with the meek brown eyes. Q GERALDINE HARRIS Cheerfulness is an offshoot of goodness and wis- dom. JESSIE HARRIS A day for toil, an hour for sport, But for a friend is life too short. 64 THE CLASS OF MILDRED HARRIS Her air, her manners, all who saw admired, Courteous though coy, and gentle thought retir'd. ALTA HART She is always cheerful who is cheering others. dmv-Auf 1' MARTHA WOODBURN HASLUP The victory of success is half won when one has learned the habit of work. LAVINIA HAUSER As merry as the day is long. 0 ' . AQJUUAAI. Q IDA HAVELOCK In all labor there is profit. FANNIE HAYNES Blushing is the color of virtue. FRANCIS HEAPS Thought is deeper than all speech, Feeling is deeper than all thought. MARTHA HERON I have no other but a wom- an's reason: I think him so, because I think him so. 1 Q DOROTHY HESSONG Heart on her lips, and soul within her eyes, Soft as her climue, and sun- ' ny as her skies. KATHERINE PHELEM LEE HILL I am constant as the north- ern star. NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE 65 MARGARET HILL A face with kindness over- spreadg Soft smiles, by human kind- ness bred. NELLIE I-IILLEARY ' None knew thee but to love thee, None named thee but to praise. Q FRANCIS ETTA HILLIARD A fair exterior is a silent recommendation. HILDA HOFFMAN 'fSmiling, sympathetic, a de- lightful air of Old World charm, in all, a really A lovable girl. ELLA HOLLAND A face that's best by its own beauty drest, And can alone command the rest. LOUISE HOOK The hill, though high, I cov- et to ascend, The difficulty will not me of- fend. , r F' 51K-S, BESSIE HOSEN A stranger among strange faces. DOROTHY HOWARD Here's everything advanta- geous to life. Q MILDRED HOWARD High erected thoughts seat ed in the heart of courtesy. EDITH HULLET A heart at leisure from it- self I To soothe and sympathize. 1 66 THE CLASS OF MARIAN ELSIE HUNTLEY Worthy of any one that lyven may And best of all could laugh all the day. ELIZABETH I-IUTTON A daughter of the gods, di- vinely tall, And most divinely fair. VIRGINIA IRENE ITZEL 'Her talents were of the more silent class. LENA ITZKOFF 'Deep, subtle wits, in truth, are master spirits in the world. EMILY WEBER .IAMES 'The pleasure of love is in loving. LOCKIE HARDIN JANUARY Where the stream runneth smoothest, the water is deepest. Q VIRGINIA ELIZABETH JETT :'Argument for a week, laugh- ter for a month, and a good jest forever. ALICE JONES Her history makes me shud- der and laugh by turns. Q FRANCES LOUISE JORDON Sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes. FLORENCE JOYCE 'KWhere could they find an- other form'd so fit, To poise with solid sen.se a sprightly wit. NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE 67 I Af ABIK What ' be will be, so w worry. JJ' JANICE KAHN The world deals good-natur- edly with good-natured peo-ple. N 'ui Q NORMA MARIE KAHNEY Measure your mind's height by the shade, it casts. CATHERINE ELIZABETH KAMMAR Full of sweetness and of merci ever. lli1.Mlf1fM,4jU Q 3 IRENE KAPLAN Endued with the sanctity of reason. MILDRED KARCHER Never elated while one man'.s oppress'dg Never dejected while an- other's bless'd. i O FLORENCE KARDOSII Small service is true serv- ice. 5? A. SADIE KARPA Words much she loved and' each had she her say. f AL Q2 HELEN ESTELLE KASTE She -comforts all the World as does the sun. MINNIE KASTNER The lowly heart doth win the love of all. 68 I-IILDA KAUFMAN Youth holds no societ with Y grief. IRMA KAUFMAN A hit, a very palpable hit. JEANNETTE KAUFMAN 'The mildest manner and the gentlest heart. MARIAN LMURIEL KAUFMAN Silent, shy. peace-loving. MARY KEESE 'A maiden modest yet self- possessed. u LOIS ADELE KELLER Her beauty made the bright world dim. MARY KELLERT What sweet delight a quiet life affords. CAROLYN KERNER, Cheerfulness is an offshoot of goodness and wis- dom. Q 1 GERTRUDE K1 At sight of thee y W my .soul cheers , My hopes ve and glad- nes ns within me. EDNA KING Generous action is its own reward. NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE 69 EVELYN KING spread, Soft smiles by human kind- ness bred. ISABEL KING Anything but history-for history must be false. ETTA SONIA KIPPNES Her eyebrow dark, and eye of fire, Showed spirit proud, and prompt to ire. Q HARRIET KIRBY True friendship can afford true knowledge. ELIZABETH KIRK Silence is more musical than any song. A face with gladness over- LEILA KIRKNESS Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well. E BERTHA KLEIN A smooth and steadfast mind. , li 4.2, ! SELMA KLINE Then very room, coz she was in Seemed warm from floor to ceilin'. Q ROSE KLOZE Her heart was as great as the world, but there was no room in it to hold the memory of wrong. LILLIAN KNIPP Of a meek and quiet spirit Hath a soul all dauntless to 6115361 . 70 THE CLASS OF DORIS KNUDSEN Music is the universal lan- guage of mankind. ALICE KRIETE Though toil and vexation be ever my share, What care I-they trouble me not. H Q MARIE KROTEE Self reverenceg self knowl- edgeg self control. These three alone lead life to power. Q MARJORIE KOHLER Independence now and inde- pendence forever. DOROTHY KRUPSAW Has so much wit and mirth and spleen about thee. EVELYN LANE Sweetness, goodness in her person shin'd. GERTRUDE LANG The glass of fashion and the mold of form. LILLIE MAY LANHAM So cunningly, and so young is wonderful. ELIZABETH LAUTENBACH Get your pleasure out of helping those who need help. THELMA LAVIGNE A good manner springs from a fine heart, but Fine manners are the out- come of unselfish kind- ness. NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE' 7l MILDRED LE BOW Better late than never. E RUTH LEBOWITZ H other Troy. IDA MAE LECOMPTE Not too serious, not too gay, But always a jolly good fel- low. FANN Y LEITER 'We call it only pretty Fan- ny's ways. Q BLANCHE RUTH LERP If you Want to be happy, learn to please. Like another Helen fired an- SA DIE LEVENSON 'Little favors kindly done, Little toils she does not shun. ELVA LARUE LEWIS The triek of singularity. 650. as GULENYA LEVONIAN Modesty is to merit as shades to figures in a pictureg giving them strength and beauty. ANNA MAY LEVY He gives double who gives unaskedf' Q AISELE LIBAUER Gaiety without eclipse. 72 THE CLASS OF DORIS LISSBERGER Of all the heavenly gifts that mortal men com- mend What trusty treasure in the world can counterwail a friend. Q RUTH LOWENTHAL Give me a staff of honor for mine age, But not a sceptre to control the world. MARGARET EYLER LUBY It's bad weather that re- veals a good seamanf' Q LOUISE LUCAS In every gesture, dignity and love. Q LILLIAN MADDEN Sport that wrinkled Care deridesf' ' EVELYN MANGER Fair and wise is she. ELSIE MANKOWITZ Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare, And beauty draws us with a hair. HELEN MAXIME MANZER A merry heart makes a cheerful countenance. Q SOPHYE MARCUS The power of grace. LOTTIE M ARK And full was she of grit. Qfmf A NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE 73 RUBY MARKS The nature of everything is best seen in its sma est proportions. SARAH MARKS 'The price of wisdom is above rub1es. EVA BLANCHE MASSEY The magic of a face. HELEN MATTOON 'Her looks do argue her re- plete with modesty. B ELIZABETH MAYER How near to good is what is fair. h ROSE MAX Cares not a pin What they said or may say. 3 BESSIE MAZOR Laughter holding both his sides. E ALMA McAFEE Youth, ere it sees the world, here 'studies rest, And age, returning thence concludes it best. JEANNETTE McCANN 'Eyes are mirrors of the soul. B ANN CATHERINE McMAHON :'To know her is to love her. 74 THE CLASS OF EVELYN HELEN MEETH Service accepted is stately, but service rendered is lovelier. Q -. FREDA MERCER Affection is the broadest 'af- fection of a good life. HORTENSE MERCIER Rich, fashionable robes her person deck, Pendants her ears, anl pearls adorn her neck. DORA MEYERS All desire knowledge, but not all are willing to pay the price. Q FLORENCE MEYERS Her brain a perfect mill for projects. BEATRICE MILLER But 0, she dances such a way. Q DOROTHY MILLER An equal mixture of good humor and sensible, soft melancholy. GERTRU E MILLER f'The restless spirit charm'd thy sweet existence, Making all beauteous in youth's pleasant maze. MIRIAM MILLER Ladies who smile embroiled the world. Q BLANCHE OREN MILLIGAN Her voice was ever soft, gentle, and low, An excellent thing in wo- man. ll G NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE 75 POLLY MINITREE A good heart is better than all the riches in the world. Q KATHARINE MONTGOMERY Acquaintance I would have, when 't depends Not on the number, but on the choice of friends. ELLEN MOORE Her heer was fair and clere shyning It wot no lady so likyng She semede lyke a rose newe of color. MARY MOORE 'Keep cool and you command everybody. NELLIE MORRIS The eloquent blood spoke in her cheeks and so dis- tinctly wrought You might have almost said her body thought. H HA ELSA MORTIMER The slow, wise smile. E DOROTHY MOULTON Virtue like fire turns all things to itselfg our ac- tions and other friend- ships are tinctured with it and whatever touches it becomes amiable. HELEN MULLINIX cheerful temperg joined with innocence, Makes beauty attractive, knowledge delightful, and wit good-natured. GOLDIE MUNZERT Virtue is like a rich stone- best plain set. MARY C. MUSACCHIO You live but onceg so make the best use of your time. 16- THE' CLASS OF MIRIAM MUSGRAVE A vigorous, various, versa- tile mind. Q MARTHA BLANCHE MYERBERG Good nature and good sense are always companions. ESTHER NATHANSON 'AI don't 'believe in principal But, oh, I do in interest. ROSALIE NATHAN SON Cheerfu1ness is an offshoot of goodness and wisdom. B GENEVIEVE NEW The grass stoops not, she treads on it so light. FLORENCE G. NEWMAN Scatter sunshine where'er you go. ' BERTHA NIXDORFF There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks. CLARA NORDENHOLZ Queen rose in the rosebud garden of girls. MARY W. NORMAN Men make lawsg women make manners. IDA NUSINOW Wit and humor belong to genius alone. NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE 77 FLORENCE 0'CONNELL I hate nobody, I am in char- ity with the world. Q ANNA M. OLDHAM Some receive more than their share of pulchritudef' B ANNA SHIRLEY OSOVITZ The gentleness of all the gods go with thee. B MARY HELEN PARKER She opens in each heart a little Heaven. B EDITH PASCUCCI Love, sweetness. goodness in her person shined. SARA PASMAN Her heart is true as steel. MARGARET B. PEELE A sense of humor is one way to heaven. ETHEL PEET s'She is an encyclopedia of facts. Q CAMILLA PETERSEN Life is no life without the blessing of a friendly and edifying conversation. Q GEORGINE PILLING A look that's fastened to the around. A tongue chain'd up without a sound. 'Her fairest virtues fly from 78 THE CLASS OF ROSE PLOTKIN More lovely than Pandora. u Q IRENE POOLE Those dove's eyes Which can make gods for- sworn. u Q MARGARET POTTS 'The observed of all observ- ers. Q MAXINE POTTS public sight. ELIZABETH POWELL Not without art, Q Yet to nature true. A MARGARET POWELL Well timed silence hath more eloquence than speech. HARRIET PRISSMAN Knowledge is power. ELEANOR PUGH Silence in woman is like speech in man. Q IRMA PUGH Learning by study must be won. VIRGINIA RUTH READ Oh, thou art fairer than the evening' air. Glad in the beauty of a thousand stars. NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE 79 ELIZABETH REED As good be out of the world as out of fashion. ELSIE REED Of softest manners, unaf- fected mindg Lover of peace, and friend of humankind. B MARGUERITE REESE And if I laugh at any mor- tal thing, 'Tis that I may not weep. -0411 ' A E LENA REILLY The only jewel which will not decay is knowledge. MILDRED REINACH As sure as a gun. M.L.LG'L. ROSALIE RHODES Her gesture, motion, and her smiles Her wit, her voice my heart beg1iiles. SADIE RICE And still they gazed and xstill their wonder grew, That one small head should carry all she knew. I.. ,. -- - --X 5 -1.,,.1?,, Lffi VIRGINIA RICH And her hair was black as night, And her eyes were starry bright. KITTY RIGGIN Women were made to give our eyes delight. HELEN CATHERINE ROBERTS Ease in her mien and sweet- ness in her face. '44fc,' , MGI? gl 6 80 JEANNETTE ROBINSON Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye. MILDRED ROBINSON A happy soul that all the way To heaven hath a summerfs day. ! IRMA RODEKURT Muse on nature with poetic eye. DOROTHY ROLLINS Is she not more than paint- ing can express, Or youthful poets fancy when they love? EVELYN ROLLINS True as the needle to the pole Or as the dial to the sun. li 4: ALVINE ROLLMAN There is a garden in her face, Where roses and white lilies blow. Q MARGARET VIRGINIA ROMOSER Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast. ww .meme ! H SOPHIA ROSE Patience is a necessary in- gredient of genius. B LEE ROSEN Happy who in his verse can gently steer From grave to light, from pleasant to severe. LILLIAN ROSENBAUM Possessed an air and grace by no means commong her stature tall. NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE 81 BEATRICE ROSNER Blushing is the color of virtue. Q BLANCHE ROSNER 'Passion for fameg a pas- sion which is the instinct of all great souls. B THELMA ROW LENSON Great Temp'rance, open air Easy labor, little care. E KATHERIINE CORDELIA RUBY To see her is to love her, And love her but forever. B REBECCA RUDE Success comes only to those who lead a life of en- deavor. K ETHEL A. RUSSELL He that riseth late must trot all day. MARGARET RUSSELL To wake the soul by tender strokes of art, To raise the genius and to mend the heart. ROSE RUTHKE Affection is the broadest asis of a good lifif' CELIA SACKS The best part of beauty is that which a picture can- not express. Q LILLIAN SATTEL To those who know thee not, no words can paint! And those who know thee, know all words are vain. Quiet, unassuming, yet posf 1 82 THE CLASS OF ESTHER SCHEEL To know her was a pleas- ure, to have her for a friend a privilege. Q SELMA SCHENKER What you do, still betters what is done. AM. 'P. SCHOCKIQQIB The reason firm, the tem- perate will, Endurance, foresight, strength and skill. ! JEANNETTE SCHOCHETT Come and trip it as you go, On the light: fantastic toe. ETTA SCI-IOFER sessmg real character. 1 DORA SEIDEL Observant, thoughtful, stu- dious and refreshed By knowledge gathered up from day to day. 3 . Q BLANCHE SEIDMAN Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of har- mony. ELIZABETH SETTLE They laugh that win. ! CATHERINE G. SHAPIRO Thy modesty is a candle to thy merit. 'n O NELLIE GERTRUDE SHARRETTS An entire simplicity of mind. NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE 83 DOROTHY RIGGS SHUBKAGEL A heart as soft, a heart as kind A heart as sound and full As in the whole world thou canst find. 0954 LZ FANNIE SIAVITZ 'Ground not upon dreamxsg you know, they are ever contrary. LILLIE SIFF 'If a good face is a letter of recommendation A good heart is a letter of credit. Q EVELYN SILBERMANN The play's the thing. WLS' . EVA SIMONOFF Knowledge comes but wis- dom lingers. ELIZABETH SIX 'Twas kin o' kingdom-come to look X On such a blessed creetur. Q JEANNETTE SMITH A perfect woman nobly planned To warn, to comfort and command. MARY SMITH Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast. ALTA SNOOK The sight of you is good for sore eyes. ADA SNYDER Of all the girls that are so smart, There's none like pretty Ada. , 84 THE' CLASS OF RUTH SOLOMON Her prattle was conversa- tion. 'Nik -'5020'ng-N 2 ANNA EVELYN SOMMER A great artist can paint a great picture on a small canvas. KATHERINE SOPER 'In forming an artist, art hast thus decreed. Q RUBIE SOPHER Fire that is close kept burns most of all. JULIA SPECTOR Of manners gentle, of af- fections mild. ROSE SPECTOR And grace that won who saw to wish her stay. 3 MARY JOE STACK A good heart is better than all the heads in the world. Q LUCILE STANTON Whatever is worth doing at all is worth doing well. TOBY HILDA STEINBERG True virtue ' like a river, The'-deeper inows, the less 5 Qngise it,makes. . M A ,. Ig I ELLEN STEINHORN She sways them with har- monv merry and loud. NINETQ-EEN TWENTY-FIVE' 85 MARGARET STERMER i'She is pretty to walk with And witty to talk with And pleasant, too, to think on. ! CHARLOTTE STEVENS Eyes too expressive to be 'blue, too lovely to be grey. Q FRANCES STEVENS As night the life-inclining stars best shows, So lives obscure the starriest souls disclose. LYDA S VENS Shalt show ow di ' e a thing 'A wlman' . Sq Q HELEN STEWART True happiness, if under- understood, Consists alone in doing good. LONA STRAW 'iBut to see her was to love her, Love but her and love for- ever. MARIE E. STROEBEL Language was given to us that we might say pleas- ant things to each other. MIRIAM SUMMERS The lucrative business of mystery. U MARIE SUSEMIHL A merry heart goes all the day, , Your .sad tires in a mile-a. DOROTHY TAYLOR Pleasure and action make the hours seem short. 86 THE' CLASS OF MILDRED TAYLOR No conquests she, but o'er herself desiredg No arts essay'd, but not to be admired. MILDRED DULANY THOMAS Silence is the best reply. 1 Q ,Q 1.2 RUTH TIMANUS You are the soul of joy Bright metal all without al- loy. MARGARET TINLEY 'Her air, her manners, All who saw admired. SOPHIA TOBIAS 'A pleasant manner is worth more than gold. JJ J H REDFORD TODD Sweet is every sound, Sweeter thy voice, but ev- ery sound is sweet. VARNECE TRAVERS The wisest man is generally he who thinks himself least so. HELEN TURNBULL Athlete sure and cheeriopti- mist. ELIZABETH TURNER There is no index of charac- 7 ter as sure as the voice.' MILDRED TWILLEY Like sunshine on a dancing rill. . o rn NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE 87 BERNICE ULMAN O lady, nobility is thine and thy form is the reflection of thy nature. B KATHERINE VAN ORDER Friendship is love without his wings. Q WILLNA WALLENSTEIN Infinite riches in a little room. E HELEN WALTERS 'Tis good to be merry and wise, 'Tis good to be honest and true. Q MARY AUGUSTA WALZL Oh, sacred hunger of ambi- tious minds! G 4: LILY WARANCH All humble worth she strove to raise. Would not be praised, yet loved to praise. E BEULAH WASKEY A modest blush she wears, 'not formed by art. Free from deceit her face and full as free her heart. Q DOROTHY WASKEY What is the worth of any- thing But for the happiness 'twill bring? 1' MILDRED WELKER Worth is by worth in every rank admired. DOROTHY JUSTINE WELLS And all that's best of dark and brite Meet in her aspect and her eyes. .. ia M THE CLASS OF BLANCHE WHEELER A wise man adapts himself to circumstances. ' 3 UTH WHITE True eyes, too pure and too honest in aught to dis- guise The sweet soul shining through them. DOROTHY WHITNEY Her speech is graced with P sweeter sound Than in another's song is found. GRACE WHITSON Virtue is bold and goodness never fearful. Q JANET WHITSON Those eyes effectionate and glad, That seemed to love what- e'er they looked upon. U RUTH WHITSON Jest and youuthful jollityf' E DORA WIENER Order is Heaven's first law. EVELYN WILHELM She was as good as she was fair, Name none on earth above her. MARY THORNHILL WILLIAMS Character is an atmosphere rather than a sum of qualities. I X l JOSEPHINE WILSON 'A very riband in the cap of youth. K NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE 89 ANNA WINAKER 'A smooth and steadfast mind, gentle thoughts and calm desires. ISABEL WINTER 'Be wisel worldly, not Y worldly wise. MARGUERITE WITTMAN There is a gift beyond the reach of art, of being elo- quently silent. D JESSIE WOLMAN 'You. sweet, right, virtuous and wys And well beloved, and hold- en a great prys. ' af B ELLA WOOD UA smile that gl0w'd celes- tial rosy red love's prop- er hue. KATHERINE WRIGHT Kate, like the hazel twig, is straight and slender, And as brown in hue as ha- zel nuts and sweeter than the kernels. SARA YENKINSON 'Her heart is ever at your service. DELLA ELIZABETH YOUNGER Lighten forth smiles to clear the clouded air. DJ QQ- if pf 1 Q SARA YUDLSON Truth, honor and a sure in- t nt. .,,..!17?g,1,,,,, RUTH ZABATKIN Where could they find an- other form'd so fit To poise with solid sense a sprihtly Wit. 90 NINETEEN TWENTY-FIVE REBECCA ZALIS 'Though deep, yet clear, though gentle, yet not dull. EMMA ZEROSKI 'What is done wisely is done well. yi- f 0 ' N Q , , 'x , QJ. X 1 .4 .E E 4! 774 Tv ' L9 r JERRY ZERWITZ She's all my fancy painted herg She's lovely, she's divine. JC L JL .K JL TL JL JL .K JL it JL K 2 Class Song of 1925 SARA K. YUDLSON LILY J. XVARANCH Tune: The Gridiron King-Harvard May friendship, love and honor, As higher we do strive, Crown the glory and the triumph Of the class of Twentyffive. May ideals high and cherished, Truth and Loyalty Be the onward guiding leaders Dear Twentyffive, of thee. Our banner ever flying. Our colors ever bright, Our rose forever blooming, Will guide us ever right. Our spirit never failing, Stalwart, firm, alive, Will aid us to bring honor To the class of Twentyffive. 'IC 'JC 'N' UC. 7C W 'lf 'if W WESTWARD HO IT PAYS To Attend A GOOD SCHOOL because your services will be valued and you will be judged by the character and the standing of the school from which you graduate. THOROUGH AND COMPLETE COURSES IN Modern Bookkeeping Business Arithmetic Advertising Gregg Shorthand Penmanship Salesmanship Touch Typewriting Commercial Law Public Speaking Accountancy Business Correspondence Secretarial We shall be glad to give you special information on any of the above subjects in which you may be interested. Summer School or Teachers and for young men and young women who e anno t attend the winter term. Personal in- struction. Students may enter at any time. If you wish to teach Commercial Subjects or to become a first-class Steniographer or Bookkeeper. attend the BALTIMORE BUSINESS COLLEGE and learn Gregg Shorthand and Modern Illustrative Bookkeeping, and your success will be assured. DAY AND NIGHT SCHOOL OPEN ALL THE YEAR Call or Write for Catalogue E. H. NORMAN, President BALTIMORE 8: LIGHT STS. BALTIMORE, MARYLAND Established 1914 F. H. SCHUBERT. Pres. THE DOORWAY OF SUCCESS IS OPEN AT THE Maryland Business College AND School of Commerce and Business Administration 128 N. sumw sr., near uzxmcrou sr. ABRAHAM LINCOLN Said: I will study and get ready and maybe my chance will come. Shorthand, Typewriting, Bookkeeping, English, Mathematics, Correspondence, Civil Service, Office Training, Business Administration, Salesmanship, Advertising, Economics, Bus- iness Psychology, Foreign Languages, Etc. INDIVIDUAL INSTRUCTION-DAY AND NIGHT SCHOOL OPEN ALL THE YEAR WHEN ARE YOU COMING .UWM CHARLES STREET at Lexington A Specialty Shop of Girls' College Attire -the O'Neill Shop for Misses features everything the College or High School Girl requires. WESTWARD HO Bryant 8: Stratton College LEXINGTON ST. and PARK AVE. BALTIMORE, MD. Business offers splendid opportunities to those who have been adequately trained. Our courses in Gregg Shorthand, Typewriting, Penmanship, Spelling, English, Commercial Arithmetic, Bookkeeping and Accounting are most practical, leading to executive posi- tions. DAY GL NIGHT CLASSES ALL THE. YEAR CALL, WRITE, OR PHONE PLAZA 2947 FOR COMPLETE INFORMATION EATGN E6 BUR ETT BUSINESS CGLLEGE 9 6: I I WEST BALTIMORE STREET Baltimore, Maryland SECRETARIAL AND ACCOUNTANCY COURSES GREGG OR PIT MAN SYSTEMS INTENSIVE TRAINING UNDER SPECIALISTS CALL, WRITE OR PHONE FOR CATALOGUE BUCKS A Cordial Welcome Awaits Westward Ho Readers at Books in your Home HO C1-1sc1-11LD.KOHN 8g CO. fiiilffafikilf help you build l'b ry. BALTIMORE'S BEST STORE HOWARD AND LEXINGTON The Norman, Remington CO 347 N. CHARLES ST. WESTWARD I-IO WESTWARD HO 1925 WESTWARD HO 1926 Class Song 'tags A burning torch aflame with triumph, With virtue, truth, and loyalty, Blue and gold, its beams will lead us ever On to victory. Within the realm of dear old Western It sheds its bright unswerving rays, The clestinies of Twenty-Six To lead o'er joyous ways. The harbor of success illumines, While leading straight through paths unmarred,- True success which standards high and cherished Serve ne'er to retard: May its fire imbue our spirit With purpose firm and ideals strong, That honor, fame, and glory might To Twenty-Six belong. -Esther Baitz WESTWARD HO 1927 WESTWARD HO 1928 D1 2 WESTWARD HO S F or Youth- ART MGDES are assembled in the salons at l'lutzler's. And Accessories to accentuate the chic of any cos- tume may be selected from an enticing array. HUTZLEK BFUFHEIQ Q For the Southern Exposure 66G1'anite Silk Hose 3 .85 They're The l'lub's Special make- and we've got a reputation to keep up. They have the exclusive Gran- ite Block lisle reinforcement up where the runs begin. They're a value team you can't beat. The Q Hub Members. Florists' Telegraph Delivery Assn. J. A. Ritter 65 Son The Modes 1918 N. CHARLES ST., Near 20TH Buiimore, Ma. Of the Florists and Decorators M O m e n t PHONES: VERNON 0573-6784 For Young LEWIS R. CURLETT NEWTON R. HAEN Women John lrving Founta H. Saumenig 81 Co. STATIONERS 229 PARK AVENUE Pitt Loose Leaf Note Books in Pens and School Supplies STEWART a foj. BALTlMORE'S LARGLST 8: FINEST STORE l00 WESTWARD HO The T wixteen Shop Where the particular needs of Miss Fourteen-to-Twenty are carefully studied and intelligently provided for. JOIZIGIIIMA so The Finishing Schoolw for Stenographers and Secretaries The goocl salaries, the real positions go only to the girl who is thoroughly trainecl. Here you get the complete personal instruction that can be depended upon for success. Night ancl clay classes. Enroll- ment at any time. Most moderate rates. Courses in Typewriting, Shorthand, Bookkeeping, Correspondence, Ojice Practice, Business English Y.W. C. . Secretarial School PARK AVENUE and FRANKLIN STREET Hyl161',S Beauty Parlors OLDEST MUSICAL HOUSE IN U. s. O'l P t Waving, Marcelling HairlDr:d.sliiilgeElxpert Hair Cutting, 50c ESTABLISHED lan 42 WEST LEXINGTON STREET PHONE: CALVERT om H. R. EISENBRANDT soNs , 417 N. HOWARD STREET S Baltimore, Maryland lce Cream 8: lces ORCHESTRA INSTRUMENTS LINDEN AVE. 8: McMECHEN ST. BRASS BAND The Cream of All Ice Creams DRUM 1-RAP -f PIES, CAKE, SODA, CANDY 1 WESTWARD I-IO SUMMER SCHOOL PRIVATE SECRETARIES, STENOGRAPHERS, AND BOOKKEEPERS TRAINED AND PLACED IN POSITIONS SPECIAL OPEN SUMMER ALL YEAR COURSES IN DAY AND SHORTHAND NIGHT AND ENTER TYPE- - WRITING ANY TIMIL SHORTHAND SECTION where Brewbakefs Individual Promotion Method for Teaching Gregg Short- hand is used. This method makes it possible for the student to enter any time and to advance without waiting for a class. FULL CREDIT WILL BE GIVEN FOR COMMERCIAL WORK DONE IN HIGH SCHOOL L The Typewriting Section where nearly all the ma- chines used are new Underwoods. The typewrit- ing is taught to music which gives the student an even touch and enables one to become an accurate and rapid typist in a very reasonable length of time. A new daylight, fireproof Building with elevator service and all modern conveniences. The un usually large windows admit abundant light and make possible excellent ventilation at all times. Call or Write for Information BREWBAiKER'S SECRETARIAL SCHOOL, Inc. sos PARK AVENUE at FRANKLIN sr. VERNON 0227 WESTWARD I-IO TO THE YOUNG MEN AND WOMEN ENTERING THE BUSINESS WORLD Business Service Company 1 Vocational Employment! IS THE GREATEST MEDIUM Through which you can secure the position offering the most opportunity. We are constantly receiving calls from Baltimore's Best Firms for capable young men and women for oflice positions. SUITE 172, LEXINGTON BUILDING Baltimore's Largest High-Grade Employment Concern 4 WESTWARD HO PHONES: VERNON I268-I269 NIGHT PHONE: LIBERTY 3052 ESTABLISHED 1 879 PACKING-MOVING -FURNITURE STORI NG ? Monumental Storage 8: Carpet Cleaning Company I I I0 to I I I6 PARK AVENUE BALTIMORE, MD. COMPLIIVIENTS of the Western IHgh School LUNCH R O O M 6 D7 WESTWARD HO DRINK WESTERN MARYLAND DAIRY MILK - E A T - CUSTUMES FOR ALL OCCASIONS f A AAA A A +III+ II+If C LOVER lVlay Be l-lad I A ii' l MA at Served in A. T. Jones 81 Sons 827 N. I-loward St. Western High School Lunch Room Phone, PLAZA 4590 The Klein Pharmacy Prescription Specialists PENNA. 8: MONDAWMIN AVES. Phone: Madison 8853 S l ge, rmanent waving, reel waving, etc., done well I d erate prices Hair Bobbing, 35c Sh pooing, Special to High Scho l G l and Teachers, 75c BY fMRS.l ELSIE ALMY 2008 ST. PAUL STREET Homewood 9074 WESTWARD HO I l I i 1 THE PHOTOGRAPHS In This Book Were Made By Cronhardt 81 Monios Portrait, Commercial Photographers 228 Park Avenue Baltimore, Md WESTWARD HO Knowledge Makes For Good Citizenship The Street Car affords opportunity for visiting every part, reaching- the civic center the financial section towering office structures crowd-filled business thoroughfares wholesale district busy retail shopping streets industrial and manufacturing developments shipping and extensive waterfront densely populated tenement districts closely built residential communities far-Hung suburban home areas picturesque countryside outlying towns and villages RIDE FOR KNOWLEDGE ,Tl p fi. ' .V ., SARATOGA and LIBERTY STREETS HENRY G. VON HEINE Coal Main Office l25 E. FAYETTE ST. 9 Dr. Daniel M. Chasson OPTOMETRIST 1540 PENNSYLVANIA AVE. Phone: Madison 3630 KEEP lN STEP WITH DAME FASHION by Purchasing Your Graduation Hose Bt THE FRENCH HOSIERY SHOPPE rice: Start at Sl 208 W. Saratoga St. , I WESTWARD HO Every Senior Enroll on Alumnae Day As a Member of the Western High School Alumnae Association Annual Dues flVlay to Mayl Only One Dollar N Confectioner and Caterer 701-703-705 W. NORTH AVE 2 C3 WESTWARD HO 12 THE G. FRED KRANZ MUSIC C0 303 N. CHARLES ST. The Shop where you buy your Sheet Musi Victrolas, Victor Records King Band Instruments, Saxophones and RADIOLAS Phone: Plaza 3732 AFTER A SWIM IN THE Y POOL Don't Forget THE CENTRAL CONF ECTION ERY STORE. Sodas, Sundaes -AND- Home Made Candies 1 2 C WESTWARD HO 3 4 Headquarters in Apparel for the School Girl L. Slesinger 81 Sons ON CHARLES STREET, 216 NORTH LUCKE BADGE AND BUTTON CO. CELLULOID, ENAMEL 8: PHOTOGRAPHIC BUTTONS RIBBON AND METAL BADGES Call Madison 0706 Offlcel, 1826 N. Fulton Ave. SAY IT WITH FLOWERS Robert L. Graham es4 w. NORTH AVENUE 22 LINDEN AVENUE 11 Madison 39 I 4 Madison 0749 8 C1 C6 Congratulations 1925! B 9 , B5 C11 WESTWARD HO 1 12 1 B13 14 16 9 10 ' C15 Compfimeniary I P. B. Colleqe Publication Specialists -- Uwfbvflffr' G Pmcs 1 f +QuAuTu l if + SERDICE if 5 E?W Lmivf' X.--Calvert 1800 Priniers LOMBARD and SOUTH STS. :gf of westward Ho u ,uh vu M I 1 wg '43'Wj '-'MT-' j1,I1'Qfff W'wV: ' mi 1 In be uh Q nm . my Fw . 1 11231 1:-' 1 'I -ur '. 'xf.:ave':-1'-sa ' .44 47.-:,' -E935 'wa ru '-:ramp ,af-'v 1'-Jvnflff--2 ' '-IE' ., 1 I - ' ' - 4 ,X ,I 4 , if , 4 Y ,, , ,. .,, -. .,., ., T., Q.-, . .-..: , . ,.-, r, ,4 , - ... ---x :,.g,..f, - ,,,,A,uY,',f V -- - . , ,,,L- . .if I -. ,N -Q-f. ,V H E , . Gb, 4f1.,. , . . ffzfgf r gif: k- , h ,rx ,ff - i. yi M fx- ,I K . fl, fu' af f , . H 5 is '9 A 4 J an i , . R U X . 2 N -avzijj , , V- ,E K , 1' E 1 'TN I ' .. .. +3 A -Q x, 1 J A s as 'R' 'lx 4 Wh . w 'L 34 . 5 U v f . xl? .1 . :ff-. . .nk -:, ' -ft .. f? gi A 1, , A.. . IU LL' 'iii' 4 1 9 C, N x i' 5 ,r -at V . V vs -- -:E 'W'-'F' x T 9 1 - Tl N51 ' !',:-.+A a X, i-. Q ,hs k 1 v I A 5 SW' ' 4 A 1 . ff' 4 .. IQ . 1. X :ai u . -' - I 3,25 A, 1. V X. If' ' ..g: sais' gifgig, - fem i-. ' , Q' 3 f e .V .f V 1 1' - r K i ' 1- A J, I ,f-x...?X .- xxx N.