Woodward High School - Treasures Yearbook (Cincinnati, OH)

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millionaire back to life, had-well, you know What usually occurs when two people hnd enjoyment in each others company. The next picture shmved the entrance to a large, magnificent theater, Albrechtis Pastime. In the lobby stood Edgar himself. Even as I looked, Alice McCarthy and Grace Donovan, both society leaders, passed by; immediately Edgar turned to stare at them, but a beautiful lady at his right gave him a reproachful look and said, TiVVhy, Edgar, after all Iive taught you! ttAIl right? fell in Edgar, and he escorted the lady, who closely resembled our old friend, Alice Deprez, into the theater. The first number begins. A woman, tall and grace- ful, steps forth and begins to warble. Toward the end, as her lovely voice dies away into the silence, the audi- ence remains still for a moment; then, with one accord, there bursts forth tremendous applause for Jeanette Maf- fey, who is now the worlds greatest soprano. The next number is a sketch, entitled nFifty Weeks? by Julius Holzberg, in which Asa Butterfield is starring. Ever and anon, Edward L. Israel appears 011 the stage with such lines as, HThe carriage awaits thee, my Lord, or ITMy lady, someone is without,H and the reply ever is, ,Tis well, ,tis well. The next performer takes the stage. This is a piano soloist. Ah! only one could play like that. I scrutinize her face for some indications of her identity, and, sure enough, it is an old school friend, Irene Gardner. Then come some Grecian art poses, by Hyman Markowsky, George Hauck and Thomas Grady. 22 Next is Funny Boy Evans, who gives us a bit of comedy, entitled gTCreamus, the Boy IYonder. This sketch was compiled by Ray Smith, who is a second Lew Fields. The concluding act is entitled TTShelley 8: OiDonnel, the two furnishing a hair-raising stunt on the bars which brings an overwhelming ovation. The picture gradually fades from VIEW and another showing a spacious hall takes its place. It is filled with the fair sex and from what is said, there is a meeting of a. great political club, called hThe Amazons. The principal speaker is Alice Oehler, who tells us TTWhat women should do, now that they have the ballot. She is introduced by the militant suffragette, Caroline W'aldo. By this time I have become accustomed to seeing my schoolmates and I recognize the ofhcers of the club on the platform, Emilie Hauck, Mildred LeClere and Celia Silverman, who now are the hpowers that be? As the roll is called, I hear many familiar names and recog- nize many faces, Lovela Hagans, Gwendoline Arthur, Anna Huheey, Stella Murphy, Elsie Haefner, Helen Gates and Frances Ross. Again the scene changes. It is a court room. The judge, who, as I live, is Mildred Emmit, rises and raps for order. The bailiff, who is none other than XValter Bagel, cries, Oh yeioh yeeoh ye-. The attor- ney for the defense is Big Bill CroakeYi The jury is composed of twelve old XYoodward girls. Lillie Doering. Irene Fox, Naomi Grothus, Mary Shephard, Kathryn Coffey, Emily Arnold, Virginia Dolle, Bessie Jones, Bernice Valerio, Helen Hunt, Viola Bitter and Grace Sherman, successful business women all.

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THE CITY OF TO-MORROW WAS passing by the Chem. Lab, one day, when I I heard a voice inside loudly exclaim, ItAh, here it iseat last--I have it-the secret of the future Thinking that one of our dramatically inclined pupils was rehearsing his part before H: C L, H: S O. and N H, I timidly entered the room. There, staring at me with glaring eyes, stood Charlie Meister, with hair awry and hands outstretched with fiendish glee. Upon perceiving me, he began again, uI have itel haveecome lookethe secret of the future is within my grasp! ItQuite good, quite good, I exclaimed, applauding, Hyou will become a good actor yet. ttNO, no, please don't joke,H he re- sponded, KKthis is serious, very, very serious. See what I have here, and he pointed to a machine before him. I advanced cautiously and eiamihecl the device. It was a box filled with various chemicals that gave off a peculiar, colored ray, which I had never seen before. Even as I noticed this, the youth spoke again. ItIt is the greatest invention of the age. Through this machine we can foretell all that will occur in the future. See for yourself?! And he pointed to a hole about an inch square, which was secreted under a Hap Of the metalt I looked, and, to my astonishment, there arose before my eyes a wonderful city, with massive buildings, long and wide thoroughfares, and here and there were 21 beautiful green parks, titled with lakes and bubbling brooks. hThe City of To-morrowf whispered a voice at my elbow. The picture grew clearer and clearer, until I began to distinguish people, walking hither and thither; nearer and nearer they came, and at length I even recognized the features of the pedestrians. Thus, the picture stood before me and unraveled the story of the future. At a place where two large streets intersected there stood a tall man; he was addressing a crowd of men and women gathered around him, and, as I listened, the words of the orator came faintly to me. The Lord has said that man shall reap all that he sowed, and, indeed, we ought to be thankful that we live in such an era of good will, of good faith. The voice grew dimmer and dimmer as the picture passed on, and, just as it was about to disappear entirely, the speaker turned 10ward me and I recognized the features of my old friend, James Morris. But to glance at the next pictureebeholdl It was a petite little nurse waiting on a pale though hand- some young man. I heard him say, IIYes dear, after I get well, we Willi. Her eyes told the answer. To my utter amazement the pretty nurse was none other than Bessie Humphries, who, after nursing a multi-

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Then the picture shifted, and a long street, filled with stores, went slowly past. The names on the various windows struck my attentionsHCahill and Davis, Attorneys at Law ; ttBi-yan Butterheld, Cheese Factory ; Shatter, Newhigging and Wersel, Autosh; ttEveland and Clift, Farm Supplies. Two women, whom I recognized to be Hatty Swee- ney and Esther Hunt, were earnestly talking on the street corner. After the noise of an aeroplane, driven by Burgoyne, passed, I heard Harriet say, HWhat are you doing now, Esther? IrWhy, I am a reporter on The Su-rWagettef edited by Grace Kemper and Lillie Dunn; you know they always do things together. Anna Backus and Margaret Holdt work there also. By the way, what are you doing P tiOh, I am a settles ment worker, Hattie replied, as she hastened off. The next picture was a. neWspaper building, and on the window was pasted the latest edition of the nDan'ly H owlf edited. owned and managed by Harry Schafer. Many catchy advertisements caught my attention, such as HPaul Toepfert, Ragtime player in the Cabareth; gGret the New Pony, by Fritz Oehlsehlaeger ; rISegal, Sachs and Fialeo, Architects, build anything from a toothpick to a chicken coop. On the front page was a large notice reading, IIJohn Hilberg, the butcher, has invented a new way to kill cowsf and following this heading was a long account of the marvelous invention. In the theatrical news there was an announcement read- ing, See The XVaiff now playing at the Syrique Theater, with Cara Baer in the leading role as the waif? 23 The next view was the inside of a home. There in front of me was Amelia Nagel. You remember in her oratorical essay she said that the IZVlothet should rule the Home. Well, she certainly has put it into practice. Next I see a great school, similar to old Woodward. but much larger and grander. The ground is covered with green grass and Howers and there is no unsightly fence to give a prison appearance to the temple of learning. I see a white-haired old man accosted by a middle aged woman. How do you do Mr. Jol-mston.PH she says, III guess you do not remember me. I am Hilda Shilling of the Class of 1913. I have returned to look Over the new school and the records of the class. I am truly glad to see you and I will send for someone to guide you through the schooli As to the records, you may look through them here in the thce. And he brought out a time-worn ledger, which Hilda opened. IIAh, here it is,n she cried. iILetIs see, Emma Haslinger, no, not IIaSlinger any longer, and Marie Short married to Hi h-; hm, I knew that long ago; and Mildred Miller a missionary, Jennie Moreland, a gymnasium teacher, and Helen Braunwatt in France learning the Parisian tongue so as to teach to perfection in the Cincinnati schools,I She was interrupted in her perusal by a voice. Here is a boy, Hilda. This is young Tilden Gaddis' a son of one of your former schoolmates. I gaze intently at the red- haired youth, bashfully bowing to Hilda, and wonder who he could be. They go out of the ofhce and step into an elevator, which shoots them to the top hoor,