Wilson Central School - Crest Yearbook (Wilson, NY)

Page 13 text:

said she was going to stay at home for a few weeks and then she was going to New York to begin her winter engagement. When our train stopped at Lewiston Heights, whom should I see but Lelah Martin, putting a tire on a “Ford”. Eloise told me she had corresponded with Lelah and now Lelah was a physical training instructor and she had been teaching for nearly ten years. When I got off the train at Wilson, there stood an aeroplane, and beside it stood a young man about six feet tall. He heard me ask the ticket agent where the ’bus was. He told me that the auto 'bus was worn out; but I could ride down with him in his aeroplane. Just then I heard some one say “Hello, Beach!” then I saw that the young man was our demure little Earl of high school days. He said that he was a doctor, in Cleveland, and had come back to spend Sunday with some of his college chums. As I did not fancy riding in aeroplanes and as my traveling bag was light, I much preferred walking. I felt well repaid when I reached Mrs. Blake’s home, my heart was overflowing with joy at sight of so many familiar objects. The dear old school house, which I had not seen for fifteen years, and the home of our former respected and beloved Principal, Mr. Mcllroy, whom I had heard had retired on a pension and was living in a beautiful home in the city. Mrs. Blake greeted me at the door, and we had such an enjoyable time, talking of old school days. Roy McMillan had just stopped on his way from the County Fair to show Mrs. Blake his load of blue ribboned stock which he was taking home. At the mention of Roy’s name, my mind went back to my year in training class. I inquired if the school still maintained one, and Mrs. Blake told me that they had received fifteen applications from pupils who wished to attend, and the Board of Education had consented, with Miss Grace Lampe to teach the class. It was hard for me to imagine our Grace Lampe of old teaching training class, but as I look back, I remember how great was the love she always manifested for that particular work. I certainly enjoyed my visit, and as I rose to go I expressed my determination to visit my old friend Angeline McCormack, but Mrs. Blake assured me that was impossible, as Miss McCormack was in England studying at Cambridge for the summer, and in September she would take up her duties as teacher of the classics in Wellesley College. I was very sorry that I could not see her, but was very glad to hear she was so successful in her career.

Page 12 text:

PROPHECY OF CLASS OF ’17. As I sat in my office one warm July morning, my stenographer handed me a letter. Upon opening it I uttered an exclamation of joy. It was from Mrs. Blake, and it brought back so many pleasant recollections of my dear old high school days that I at once made up my mind that one feature of my vacation should be a trip back to dear old Wilson. And so it happened that one day in early August, I boarded a train bound direct from New York to Buffalo. When I reached Buffalo, I found that I had nearly three hours to wait, so I started out for a walk. I had heard that my old classmate, Gladys Swick, was practicing law in Buffalo, and I very much wished that I might see her. As I sauntered along Main Street trying to make myself feel at home, whom should I meet but Marlin Schulze. I was of course very glad to see him, and as I extended my hand said, “Why, hello, Martin!” but upon closer observation I drew back. Although ho greeted me kindly, there was a difference between his now gracious Fraulein Angevine, and the old greeting “Hello, Ruth!” which I used to receive. He told me he was a music Professor, and asked me to come with him to his studio. I consented, and we soon reached his beautifully furnished studio. He introduced me to Frau Schulze, who assisted him in his teaching. After visiting for nearly an hour with them, they directed me to Lawyer Swiclc’s office in the Brisbane Building. After going up several stories in the elevator and looking at several doors, I came to ono marked “Gladys M. Swick, Lawyer”. I went in and was informed by her assistant that she could see no one for at least half an hour, as she was working on a case for the Rome, Watertown Ogdens-burg Railroad, involving millions of dollars. I decided to wait, however, and was rewarded at the end of nearly forty-five minutes by seeing her come toward me with outstretched arms. She seemed very glad to see me and cancelled all engagements for the next hour in order that we might visit until train time. When the train was due she walked to the station to see me well on my way to Wilson. When I boarded the train, whom should I see but Eloise Bartoo; as usual she carried a violin case. I went and sat down with her and she told me that she was just returning from a trip abroad, where she had been taking violin lessons of Professor Scott. She

Page 14 text:

Then I found myself repeating the following lines: Father Time brings many changes,, But he leaves for us to tell In whatever path we live and toil, Whether or not they be well. R. L. A. ’17. NOT DEAD, JUST STEEPING. One little Junior one morning awoke, And thot she would play a nice little joke. She came to school just full of pep, And told the rest w.hat she dreamed as she slept. T’was a great big banner, all silver and green, Which on the east board could always be seen. They looked, and behold her dream was true, Just realizing that they had been dreaming, too. So one little Junior, the banner erased. And immediately, there, a junior banner was placed. This banner was turkey red and white, With a cute little ’18 right in sight. But we Seniors soon banished that, all right, Although the Juniors guarded it late at night. All the little Juniors went running home fast To tell their mammas of their bright little task. This trifle didn’t worry us Seniors a bit. But the poor little Juniors nearly had a fit. It’s all passed and gone and our trials are done. Next year will be the time for the Juniors’ fun. SUNSHINE AND DAISIES. It was such a happy, sunshiny day, and the heavy gate was ajar a big crack! Was it any wonder that Maggie could not resist? With a gleeful, watchful eye on the house, she tugged at the gate until she could insert her small self within the opening and squeeze through. Then, just as fast as the little feet could carry her, down the road she sped, amidst rising flurries of hot, yellow dust. Pant-ing, but gayly, when out of sight of the house, she slowed down to a light-hearted saunter, happily observant of all the breathing world of sights and sounds about her. Now she stopped to sniff