Windsor High School - Pow Wow Yearbook (Windsor, IL)

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 ' ..(O' — 0iPOW-UHoVV0 —•—(QMgjggp, To Gansel Bennett, Bus leaves his right to go frolicking six nights out of a week. To Mildred Lovins, a boy friend to visit her during the three minute period. To Merle Kirk, Neva Bence leaves her curly hair. To Duane Ripley, the right to talk to Della ( haney if he so desires. To Katherme Tull, a Stewardson sheik about the size of Bob Neal. To Ruby Bartley, we leave a promise from Harold that he’ll wait one more year. To Margie Rose, Nellie Simmons leaves one half her weight. To Earl Davidson, we bequeath Elizabeth to cook his meals. To Bryan Smith, a I«emon that is always sweet and never sour. To Wilda Grider, Mag Tull leaves her ability to capture a basket ball man. To George Goddard, we bestow Lura. To Clyde Robb, Harold Nichols leaves his ability to play basket ball and look at the girls at the same time. To Eva Holsapple, Mary Elizabeth leaves her right to scuffle in the hall. To Cecil Harrmann, we leave Fred Edmonds’s art of telling bright tales in English class. To Paul Davidson, Howard Kearney leaves his position on the basket ball team. To Paul Herron, we grant the privilege to be important. To Maudene Janes, some one to take Aubrey’s place. To John Robert Bruce, iron bones, so he will have no arms broken the coming season. To Willis Rawlings, plenty of candy to eat during school hours. Wc hereby seal, on this twenty-third day of February in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and twenty-six, our last will and testament. (signed) SENIORS. Witnesses—Willis Walker, J. A. Alexander. OUR SWAN SONG Windsor High we soon shall leave you, For we’re Seniors nearly through; Soon we’ll pass from out your portals, Different scenes and tasks to view. Four years of our journey’s ended, Soon we’ll pass to higher things; Now we gaily face the future, Ready for what e’er it brings. And yet we leave behind us, Joys we never more shall know; Joys beneath which Seniors only. Have a right to bask and glow. We leave behind our dignity, Our special row of seats; Our rights as privileged characters, But most of all our feats— Of bluffing through in History class, Of throwing paper wads; And escaping Ready’s notice, By the mercy of the Gods. Of studying our Physics, Till without a doubt we know; One cubic centimeter equals, One gram of H 2O Of playing such a major part, In study, sport and play; That I don’t know what this school will do, When we have gone away. Of making A’s in English, Though we create much commotion; (I never thought we laughed too much, But that’s Miss Jordan’s notion). Maybe sometimes we are boist’rous, But we all must have our fun; And the time for play and laughter, Is the time when you are young. Oh we’re Seniors! Happy Seniors, And we’ve got the best there is; Got the nerve and got the brain power, And we’ve got the pep and whiz. Now we’re leaving you, old High School, Never, never, to return; Others soon shall take our places, Learn the things that we have learned. So now we sing our swan song, And our clear young voices rise; In an anthem of rejoicing, Though the tears stand in our eyes. So with gladness, yet with sorrow, We shall bid our last good-bye; With the hope we’ll all do credit, To our dear old Windsor High. —Beulah. THE TIME, THE PLACE—THE BLOW-OUT It was just such a night as this when everybody was wishing everybody else good luck. The girls were blushing, the boys nervous, the older men in one corner spinning yarns of their former 192(5 )= Nineteen

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lpo v= Uo v) girl over at Gays. Nellie Simmons is teaching history in Gays. Olin Phipps is midshipman. Let’s see, what did he say about Jane Bell? Oh yes, I believe it is Michigan where she is living.” “There is Grace Shelton’s picture. Where did she and her husband go?” “They are still living over by Bethany.” “Well, if there isn’t Gilbert Clem. What became of him?” “He is chorister in Brookland. He and Hay Tull are working together in a church there. Kay is a minister and doing great work.” “There is Elizabeth Jackson’s picture. I had almost forgotten her.” “She is with her brother in California.” “Say, Neva, did you know that Florence Juhnke and John Wall were married last month?” “No. Have you read the September issue of the American? Did you see the long article about Beulah Gordon’s wonderful writings? She is a great success.” “Inez Storm! Where is she anyway?” “Ralph, didn’t you say you heard she and Clifford Harder were to be married soon?” “Yes, and I told you that Daisy Swinford’s diamond from Corn was good, didn't I ?” “Where is Deana?” “Deana :s nursing in an Old Folks’ Home. She and Letha Rawlings went through training to gether.” “There is old Margarette. I saw her not long ago. She is chief cook in a cozy little flat in Day-ton, for some fellow from Shelbyville. I don’t know his name ” “There Is Herbert Clawson. Did you know, Mary, that he is manufacturing frolicking cars that don’t have to be steered?” “That is about as shocking as Maurine Spencer being a radio announcer.” “Yes, or Paul Moberley being a successful yell leader the last four years at the U. of I.” “Suppose you read ‘Polly’s’Troubles in thefim- nies now that Vivian Edwards has made so popular?” “Did you know that Roy Renshaw was coach in the Sexson Corner high now?” “No. But, Ralph, did you know that Aubrey Walden is Ford dealer in Middlesworth ?” “Yes, he and Ruth Rankin have lived there ever since they were married.” “Well, if there isn’t Mary Hart’s picture. Three guesses, Mary, where she is.” “Oh. I already know. She is tucked away in a nice little bungalow in Shelbyville.” “This is about all of them, isn’t it?” “No, we have another page yet.” “Everyone knows what a great success Ralph Neal has made on the stage.” “On the stage?” “Yes. He is a world famous impersonator. Got his stait mocking R. L. Don’t you remember?” “There is old Evelyn’s picture. Wonder if she is making a success with her blush proof powder she is making?” “Goodness, just look at the time. We must be going to bed if 1 have to leave so early in the morning.” “No, Mary, not until we finish with these last two pictures. I don’t knew where they are.” “Let’s see. Oh, Elizabeth Storm and Ruth Sexson. I happen to know where they are. Ruth is telephone operator in Neoga, and Elizabeth is selling insurance around Sullivan.” —Jane Bell CLASS WILL We, the class of 1926 of W. C. H. S., being of sound mind and memory do hereby make and de-dare this to be our last will and testament, on the twenty-third day of February in the year of our Lord one thousand, nine hundred and twenty-six. To the Freshmen we bequeath the right of always having a good time in English. To the Sophomores we bequeath a little more wisdom. To the Juniors we leave our Senior rights and knowledge. To the faculty as a whole we leave our sympathy for losing such a brilliant and good looking class. Individually we bequeath to the faculty as follows: To Mr. Alexander, a Physics class that will always remember that one cubic centimeter of pure water is numerically equivalent to one gram of water. To Mr. Dunscomb, a basket ball team that will be able to defeat Lovington three times. To Miss Gustafson, a sleek, black haired sheik. To Miss Hartman, a Cooking class where at least two members car. make biscuits without looking at a cook book. To Mr. Ready, a class of Senior girls who will always be lady like and never run after the boys To Miss Jordan, a seavch warrant so she may be able to find the old hen the Senior boys tell her is in the ventilator in the back of the room. To Miss Stevenson, a man by the name of George from Arthur. To Mrs. Dunn, as much happiness in her married life as we have had in the last four years. To Miss Taylor, r. paddle, so that she may keep Kenneth quiet in the Assembly. To Miss Garvin, the art of making the Assembly pupils sing on Wednesday morning. Now in order to show our love for the Juniors we bequeath the following to them individually: To Margurette Barnhart, the right to be m the Senior class play next year. To Wayne Shelton, Gerald Rose leaves his height. To Della Chaney Vivian Edwards leaves her mischievous eyes. 102(3 Eighteen

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 =ko.....-o fl ovv=liU o v %..:tm boyhood days, and the women in another exchanging recipes of hoecake, flapjacks, corn bread, and vinegar pie. Everyone was there, for there wasn’t a single person you could think of who wasn’t. Even old Sumantha Stoopintakit, who hadn’t been out for almost a year, and old Breeze Ezry, who had had three strokes of paralysis and always grunting about either the weather, or how short the women were wearing their skirts. “Yes, sir, boys,” old Breeze would say, “things are gittin’ puny bad when ye cin see their j hoeiops.” At about seven-thirty you could begin to hear the fiddles strike up some kind of an airy tunc like, “Turkey in the Straw” or something. The hall was crowded. “Go to the left and cast off four.” “Oh how 11 you swap or how’ll you trade your pretty girl for my old maid,” the caller would chime in every once in awhile. In one corner of the reception hail was a big I an of cracker jack for the youngsters, candy for the women, and cigars for the men. A large five-gallon jar, which served as a punch bowl, was standing on a table in the center of the room, full of fresh cider. An era of good feeling prevailed for this was the night of the Shucksville Blowout. —?dary Elizabeth Gilbert. WHEN A MAN’S A MAN IN AMERICAN LITERATURE CLASS Once there was a fellow who took American Literature. He was very quiet, attentive and honest. When the teacher would explain the next lesson, he would sit very still and listen. If there was any question he silently raised his hand to ask about it. When she passed out the papers, which were graded, he passed them on without looking at the grade on any but his own. If, by chance, he had failed to read his lesson, he listened quietly and got the most he could out of it. This he did at times, because he said that was what he was in school for. When some “Smart Alec” threw a piece of chalk at him, he never flinched, but sat in the same quiet way. One day the teacher sent him out of class for beating time with his foot to the music downstairs, though it wasn’t he who was guilty. Nevertheless he went out without arguing the matter. When asked why he didn’t tell the teacher that it wasn’t he, he said, “Oh, 1 didn't wish to start anything in class.” The fellow who was guilty, said “why not? That’s what I did it for—to cause some fun and get out of a little work.” The perfect man said. “Yes, we all know what you are. The class would be better off without you.” Then the fellow, who loved calamity, began to knock him and before long he was without a friend, except the teacher. Then he was called “Teacher’s Pet.” He stood up under the strain of being called names and playing a lone hand though he became white and thin. When school was out in the spring, he left town to find a job, since he had no friends in his home town, a I! because he did what he thought was expected of him, regardless of what happened. When he was last heard of he was trying to make new friends. —Olin Phipps. TOMORROW—AS I SHOULD LIKE TO SPEND IT I shall arise at seven o’clock. I shall have no cows to milk and no tires to patch before coming to school. I shall have niy chauffeur drive me to school and arrive at five to nine. After the bell has rung, we shall sing in a body for two hours, none of us being hoarse or in ill humor. I shall send my secretary to History while I read the daily paper. Perhaps I shall drop into class for a few minutes and give a talk. During this period my Literature secretary will be writing my written work for the day. I shall have an overstuffed rocker in the hack row, and some small boy to held my book and rock my chair. I may have him pass around some of my candy at interevals of ten minutes, and set a few tacks for the amazement of the people at large. Miss Jordan would probably tolerate anything on this day of “Dreams Come True.” The two periods following I shall devote to reading and sleeping. I would not come the next two periods, hut be lepresented by my Physics cxpeit. At Manual Training time, I will be attended by a full force of liveried secret service men an 1 a few refreshment boys. After seating myself at my automatic drafting table, I shall proceed to set all of the triggers and print my drawing on the paper without a mistake, after which I shall send it to my printer to be carefully lettered in. W'hen Mr. Ready had put his O. K. on it, 1 shall spend the rest of the time in consultation with the faculty on the betterment of working-conditions in W. C. H. S. —Fred Edmonds. 4M 102(3 Twenty