Wyanet High School - Wyhian Yearbook (Wyanet, IL)

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-..N d c,,... -w niup1n1mnu1m1u1 Ng-Ei-An 1 HEI! Nnlumr tu A 1111:-aan--n:141:i::7:c.-1: YYYY 11:71 . :mir .pixel-n 7 :u CLASS PROPHECY Charlotte Carter One moonlight night as I was walking in one of the beautiful gardens of Tokio, Japan, deeply absorbed in thought as to what had become of my classmates of twenty years before at dear old Wyanet High School, as I mused a little fairydressed in white gossamer robes, waving a wand of gold appeared to ask me why I was so sad in such an beautiful garden. I told her I was thinking of my dear classmates of 1920, and wondering what each might be doing. Can't you help me, I asked the little fairy. She answered: In the far end of this garden grows an unusual and lovely flower which opens at midnight and closes again at the approach of dawn. If you will come at midnight I will show you this wonderous flower? Wondering I went to my room. Can it be possible. I asked myself. At any rate I shall go this very night. It was calm and clear. The stars and moon made a lovely light. Just at 12 I stepped into the fragrant garden. True to her promise the fairy kept the tryst. She led me to the end of the garden. Then she picked for me a delicately scented, waxen petaled, still half closed white flower. This is the only flower of itskind in Japan, the fairy said, and may it take away your sadness. Then she waved her wand and disappeared. I took the flower up in my hand and began to examine it. As I did so the petals one by one began to open. These petals were of a curious oblong shape with fine streaks of black upon them. As I looked more closely I found there was some writing on them. I looked again and discovered faintly traced Mrs. Golden Kerchner nee Ruth Allen, Walnut, Ill. Weill I exclaimed, there seems to be some connection between this flower and reality. For I remember the name Kerchner and that we used to prophecy that she'd marry him. Let's examine another. Lelia Jackson, Philippine Islands, Instructor in B- University. it read. Now that's interesting I mused, That doctor that talked to us in High School during our Senior year told us how much teachers were

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Ng iii An man -.gg-.gg-.gp-gp1pl1gpipl1.u CLASS POEM ...ani Russell Weaver In years gone by we dreamed Of the day when we should be Freed from the drudge lt seemed Our lessons e'er would be. But now we've reached the close Of our days in Wyanet High: And the view before us shows That harder tasks are nigh. Our future faintly gleams, It's trials yet unknowng Success ls still a. dream, Our battle still un-won. Yet to the fray we go Wlth our courage mounting high, Resolved to dare and do, Fame's heights to occupy. So teachers, now farewell! And fellow-students, too. May Wy'uet High excel In all she hopes to do! Our love shall ne'el' Grow cold. Our love for the Purple-and-White. The Chocolate-Brown-and-Gold Will cherish your memory bright. So here's to the Purple-and-White! And here's to the Brown-and-Gold! And here's to the Future bright With wealth of service untold! 0101113101110 'Hnlumr in

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-cific Qzvaxizzf, uiuining : all--lp-u:i.g1.g.-ggiyippigff-5 Wg-it-An 19211 Hnlunu' in needed there. So Lelia decided to leave the U. S. I had begun to be- lieve the things I was reading. . Two more petals opened Russell Weaver, poet laureate, London, I read on one. Melvin J. Peterson, Cartoonist, London Times was written on the other. So our ball player, limerick writer and class poet has achieved real fame in poetry! I exclaimed. As for Melvin, our Valedlctorian of '20- well, I'm not surprised, for he surely did some excellent pen-work while I knew him in Wyanet. This is surely interesting. I can hardly wait to learn the fate of the others. Vera Peterson the first lady from Alabama in the House of 'Repre- sentatives, Washington, said the next leaf. Ernest McEntee, dancing master It cannot be! I thought, but closer scrutiny showed I had read correctly and it further said, Boston School of Artistic Dancing, Boston. This must be a mistake. I thought, I can't imagine our reserved and sober Ernest engaged in such a frlvolity. But here the writing became so indlstinct that I was unable to make out the rest. This has been interesting anyway, I thought as I turned to leave the garden. I hope they are all well and happy. Just then I heard a bell and I awoke. The bell I had heard was the school hell so there was no time to dream further. I must hie away to History, Reviews, English, Geometry, and the Wy-Hi-An.