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The Thistle
(1908)

Rifenberg, Florence
The sophomores,   p. [34]


Page [34]

COURSE OF STUDY-Continued 
SEVENTH GRADE 
Seventh Year Reader         Blue Jay                          Girls 
Steps in English, Pt. II    Birch                        Cookery 
Standard Arithmetic         Verbena                      Needle Work 
Advanced Geography          Dahlia                       Gardening 
Word Book                   Tomato                            Boys 
U. S. History               Potato, Sweet Potato         Care of lawn 
Copy Book No. 5                                          Gardening 
Coat Hanger 
Broom Holder 
Bread Board 
Book Shelf 
Game Board 
Salt Box, Towel 
Holder, Sleeve Board 
Hanging Pegs 
EIGHTH GRADE 
Book VIII Lights to Liter-  Baltimore Oriole                  Girls 
ature                      Linden                      Laundry Work 
Steps in English, Pt. II    Geranium                     Care of Birds or
Standard Arithmetic         Tulip                        Poultry 
U. S, History                                            Cooking 
Constitutions                                                 Boys 
Word Book                                                Milk Stool 
Orthoepy                                                 Sled 
Business Forms                                           Nail Box 
Book and 
Magazine Stand 
Footstool 
Extra Pieces 
Though we're small in size and number,     The mighty Senior's station 
That is not of much account.               We likewise must attain. 
Our fame lies in brains and wisdom,        The Juniors, worthy Juniors! 
Of which we've a large amount.             Of them we needs must speak; 
Six merry Sophomores are we;               For model boys and maidens 
Young hopefuls of the school.              No further you need seek. 
We seldom get a scolding                   When compared with our virtues
For we obey the smallest rule.             Our faults seem very few; 
When first we sought these stately halls,  But we have them, so do all men-
Staid learning's path to tread,            Even Seniors own its true. 
We boasted of one boy, but ah!             Yes, indeed, without the Sophies
To another school he's fled.               School would be a dreary place.
The teachers all are proud of us;          How they'd miss our merry chatter
We shine in all our classes.               And each happy, smiling face.
We're pointed out to viritors              If you want to watch us further,
As model little lasses.                    Keep a look out; be there when
Upon the rising Freshies                   We graduate with glory- 
We look with calm disdain.                 The class of 1910. FLORENCE RiFENBERG.


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