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.
Each 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 fee blue;
We thought we'd met our Waterloo.

But though we often were distressed
With joy and pleasure we were blessed.
Onlookers 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 branced into three?
But we were still a faithful tribe
That courses never could divide.

Our Senior year is finally o'er.
We've had more work than e'er before;
Our 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 togehter,
But now farewell -- perhaps, forever!

G.M., '15. [This poem was written by Mabel Gladys Merrimen (see Page 21).]