The High School Record


    With this number of the Record we bid our exchanges good-bye for three short months. And we do so regretfully, for words cannot express the pleasure and delight with which they have been welcomed to W. H. S. Most earnestly do we hope that every one of them will come next year and with happy prospect we again say, good-bye.

    Space will not permit us to mention the many highly and warmly worded compliments on the girls' Record by our exchanges. All agree that it was one of the very best exchanges received by them during the past school year.

Little Bobbie Burns,
Sat upon a stove,
Little Bobbie Burns.
Little Bobbie Burns.
Didn't go to heaven,
Little Bobbie Burns.

At a table in a hotel,
    A youth and a maiden sat;
They didn't know each other -
    But what of that?
The youth picked up the sugar,
    With a smile you seldom meet,
And passed it to the girl, saying:
    "Sweets to the sweet."
She picked up the crackers,
    And scorn was not lacked -
As she passed them to him, saying:
    "Crackers to the cracked."

"At last, I've got you now!" he cried,
    His weapon raised on high.
The smoke of battle cleared away -
    And he had killed - a fly.


(By Hilda Allen.)

Farewell, dear Wheeling High School,
    Farewell, farewell to all.
Ah, we can ne'er in life forget,
    Our grand old study hall.
Farewell to teachers - high and low,
For all our knowledge to you we owe.
You've taught us of long-forgotten things,
Of war with neighbors and with kings,
Of strife with tribes of Indians red,
In forest, swamp and lava bed.
You've helped in writing long debates
About the laws or rights of states.
To find if prophecies were true.
Propounded when the land was new.
And many other things we've learned -
With which this great world is concerned.
At last to you we say good-bye,
And to use our knowledge promise to try.
Farewell, dear Juniors, farewell to you;
Just one more year and you'll be through.
Then you'll be the dignified - don't forget,
And the good example you'll have to set -
For that's what the Seniors always do,
So lower classes look up to you.
Farewell, Sophomores, one and all -
To you our sister class we call.
We certainly are proud of you,
And wish you luck your whole life through.
The teachers did to us relate,
That your whole class was simply great -
And if you keep on in this way,
You'll be next greatest of the day.
Next farewell, Freshies, in the rear.
Who o'er your studies shed many a tear;
Cheer up, cheer up, you'll learn some day
That you'll get through, though hard the way.
We, too, were Freshmen years ago
And we've done simply grand, you know.
We've shared our fame both far and wide -
A fame that cannot be denied.
No greater one can e'er surpass
The fame of our nineteen 'leven class.
At last, farewell to the head of the school -
Four pleasant years we've been under your rule.
Farewell, Mr. Brilles, farewell to you,
You've been faithful to us our school life through.
You've worked for us most every hour
And helped us all that was in your power;
And if we can make return to you
By living lives that are good and true -
We'll do the best that we can do.
Yes, dear old nineteen 'leven class,
It won't be long 'till our school life's past -
And no one knows how long it will be
Before our classmates again we see.
So farewell, each other, farewell to each,
We hope to fame each other will reach,
And when we are out in the world alone -
Remember old High School, same as home.