Westfield High School - Pioneer Yearbook (Westfield, WI)

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31 n 00emoriam Grace Shelp Born January 4, 1896: Died May 25, 1914. At the time of her death a member of the ('lass of 1915. Good girl, your life was brief. Relieved from care and pain; And while our loss—’tis plain— Causes us untold grief. Eternal rest you gain. Sad that thou didst depart: Heaven alone knows why Early the good do die, Leaving friends sad in heart. Peace and sweet rest—good-bye! [19]

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Senior Class Uistoriette ON a fair day in early September, 1911, I began a memorable trip from Lincoln town to the city of Westfield. Ere long I passed through the boscage of I.awrence and arrived at my destination near the close of dav. Being somewhat tatigued. 1 soon lay me down in a cosy corner to slumber. And as a slept I dreamed a dream in which I saw a cosmopolitan group of callow youths and maidens in front of a brick structure called the Westfield High School. As they loitered there thev were seized with fear and trembling and broke out with the lamentable crv. “Whither shall we betake ourselves?” In their plight they ogled this way and that, until a man named Principal approached them and said, “Wherefore wail ye?” Then some answered. “ 'Cause we know not where to go or what to do.” Thereupon Principal gave them a parchment upon which they beheld the bold caption. “Rules and Regu- lations,” and he said, “Follow these with sagacity, and then henceforward ve need fear and weep no more.” Then I saw in my dream that the group began tripping merrily through a broad field called Freshman Mead. Ere long they came to a quagmire called Monthly Quiz, and being heedless, some fell in. For a time the unfortunates wigwagged and a number of them became wretchedly bedaubed with ink. All were extricated, however, and the band journeyed on until Freshman Mead was crossed and the pleasure grounds called Vacation were reached. After a good rest here the majority of the band pressed forward again. The topography of the region was as a rolling prairie until Sophomore Heights were attained. After surmounting a number of difficulties encountered on the upward march, the pilgrim band came to the Green Pasture of Ease, where all was joy and sunshine. This table land, however, was narrow, so that it was crossed in a few seemingly brief days. The pilgrims next entered Junior Territory, where the atmosphere was sweet and pleasant. They chose a leader and continued their journey for nine months, when they espied a gate in the distance. Their eyes were filled with great visions and on reaching the wicket they passed through and found themselves in Delectable Senior Province. Many were their experiences as they pressed onward until finally they came to a picturesque elevation called Rostrum. There they saw a pile of sheepskins and in close proximity the Sepulchre of Oblivion, into which their burdens, which they so nobly bore for four long years, rolled. The pilgrims were now happy and care free. Next day they found themselves on enchanted ground, where they met other pilgrims, called Alumni, who had preceded them. Together they feasted, and as they dwelt enraptured 1 awoke from my dream just as a voice whispered : “Ve are still in America, the Land of Opportunity. Live well, not unto yourselves alone, but for all mankind.” M. Gladys Merriman, '15. H81

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Senior Class poem FOUR years ago—how short a time!— Together we began to climb. Just starting in our high school life; We knew not much of work or strife. Our trials the first short year were few; We liked our work because ’twas new. Kach stranger found himself a friend And work and pleasure seemed to blend. As Sophomores we had to toil. We often burned the midnight oil. Bookkeeping made us all feel blue; We thought we’d met our Waterloo. But though we often were distressed With joy and pleasure we were blessed. Inlookers saw each lad and lass Not individuals, but a class. We worked as one—a unit we ; No other way could we then see To get what we called ease, you know ; We thought instructors worked us so! Class spirit was our greatest boast, Of all the classes we showed most; Our elders said ’twas overdone. While we kept on and had much fun. In our third year—what worse could be. Our one road then branched into three? But we were still a faithful tribe That courses never could divide. ur Senior year is finally o’er. We’ve had more work than e’er before; )ur teachers we have ceased to bluff. They think we’ve stayed here long enough. So now we’re going to leave high school. We’ve tried to follow each good rule. Perhaps we have oft been a trial But one can’t be good all the while. We’ve struggled on until at last The high school days for us are past. One cannot guess how short they’ve been, Until he’s reached the last of them. We’ve won many friends in these few years. How can we leave them without tears? We’ve loved to linger here together. But now farewell—perhaps, forever! G. M„ ’IS. [201