Friends come and go, the seasons change, and thus a newarchivist takes her place at The Tattler. I’ve always been along-time enjoyer of history, and working in the archives lets me see the storied halls of IHS straight from the students who have come before us. Enjoy!
October 1999
The World According To Lily
Hey y’all. This is Lily again. I get to write this whole anything
chunk every month. Wicked! I know you’re pumped about it, and
that’s chill. So, I really like the football games. They’re all school-
spirited out and fly like that. And the cheerleaders are super. I’m
not kidding. Last year someone threw a bottle at me and made a
demeaning comment at a football game. This year, I thought I’d
give it another chance because Mr. Demeaning-comment-maker
doesn’t rule MY life, duh. And people painted I H S on their chests
and I was really loud because I can have a very masculine voice on
demand. But we lost. I feel for the football players. I played
modified basketball when I was in 7th grade (right after I stopped
playing with Barbies), and although we had a lot of comradery and
spirit, we, pardon me, sucked. Um, I think I scored all of two
baskets the whole season, and I started. One time, we were playing
Owego or something, and they were almost as a bunch of players
like ME. Anyway, we were all at home in the DeWitt gymnasium,
which, by the way, has REALLY smelly girl’s locker rooms, and
the crowd was roaring because we were only down about two
points. (Score!) And I SWEAR this referee was watching another
basketball game on like, a miniature TV, instead of watching the
game right before him, because he made this bull-hockey call and
stupid Owego won. What kind of name is Owego anyway? It
always reminds me of those Winkies from the “Wizard of Oz” that
were blue and fuzzy or something. You know? Those ones that
guarded the Wicked Witch of the West’s castle thing that was
probably just a miniature model that they zoomed in on a whole
lot. Anyhow… I digress. So, the football games.
I want to try out for basketball cheerleading now just because it would be so fun.
The whole thing about Ithaca cheerleaders is that we have attitude.
For instance, the “Y-E-L-L, Y-E-L-L everybody say UMPH! WOOO! Say UMPH WOOO!” cheer.
I remember the Union Endicott cheerleaders saying their school colors and it sounded like they were all saying “arnge and blick.”
You figure it out. Not only do we have attitude, we can annunciate properly. (Double score!) We also have Homecoming.
Not like other schools don’t have Homecoming, but here it’s different.
Because I’m in here running for Homecoming Queen. Aww yeah. You should vote for me.
No, seriously. I’ll make it all worth it for you, because when the king and queen do the spotlight dance (if we have one, I know there was one in “Grease”),
I’ll bust out with the running man and that dance where you grab your ankle and swing your knee from front to back.
That’s right. So, vote for Lily Stahler Cavanaugh for Homecoming Queen and make her a weiner!
Your friend, Lily
September 1898
FACTS ABOUT THE HAWAIIAN ISLANDS
Until 1795 the various Islands were ruled by independent chiefs, but at that time they were all united into one kingdom under Kamehameha. A direct descendant of Kamehameha, nearly half a century later, established some laws and customs that have
been retained to the present time.
The school law compels the attendance at school of every child between the ages of six and fifteen years. The free Government schools are supported by a tax of two dollars per capita, paid by every male inhabitant of the islands between the ages of twenty and sixty. Since the male population of the kingdom is about 75,000, this makes a sufficient sum for the support of the schools.
Every form of religion is permitted and protected. Nearly all the natives are Christians. There is a bishop of the Episcopal Church to which most of the nobility of the islands belong, and a Roman Catholic bishop.
Large sums of money are annually expended by the government for the cure of the lepers, about seven hundred in
number, who are isolated in hospitals on the island of Molakai.
The great range of temperature at the different elevations and
the variety of the soil are characteristic to the cultivation of both southern and northern climates. Sugar is the most valuable product of the islands and is exported in large quantities.
Under the protection of the United States, all forms of industry and manufacture will be introduced and Hawaii will become the most valuable of Uncle Sam’s new possessions.
December 1917
PUZZLING PUZZLES
Where can a man buy a cap for his knee
Or a key to a lock of his hair?
Can his eyes be called an academy
Because there are pupils there?
In the crown of his head, what gems are set?
Who travels to the bridge of his nose?
Can he use, when shingling the roof of his mouth,
The nails from the ends of his toes?
What can he raise from a slip of his tongue?
Who plays on the drums of his ears?
And who can tell the cut and style
Of the coat his stomach wears?
Can the crook of his elbow be sent to jail?
And if so, what did it do?
How does he sharpen his shoulder blades?
I’m sure I don’t know, do you?—Ex.
BILLY BUMPKIN’S BREAK
Billy Bumpkin went to school
On an autumn morning,
There he started his career,
The Freshman class adorning.
Now Billy thought that he was bright
And did not need to study;
So when he went to history class
His brain was rather “muddy”.
“Billy, tell me,” teacher said
“About the Revolution.”
Then up he jumped and answered her,
“It was an institution.”
November 1919
Gallia Fugit
THE March dawn was just breaking over the wild Gallic hills as two men emerged from a flapping tent in the Roman camp. One, bearing the uniform of a legionary, was apologizing profusely to the other, who was standing with the red cloak of a general drawn tightly around him listening with a growing annoyance. Finally he interrupted the man’s painful tale with, “By the gods, man, could
not—” the his impatience gave way to his usual calmness and he
spoke in a voice well accustomed to giving orders, “Send the word around that I offer one hundred sesterces for the safe return of my horse, Aquilius. And by the way, Publius, tell my man, Cingetorix, to light me a fire.”
“One hundred sesterces for Caesar’s horse” echoed back and forth in the neatly planned tent-streets and the soldiers scattered in every direction, their accoutrements rattling. Each man shouted to the man nearest him, as though that would aid the search. The horses, catching the contagion, neighed in chorus and stamped their feet with the dull thump peculiar to this action.
Caesar, habituated to such turmoil, spread a map of northern Gaul on a camp table, placed a stone at each of its four corners and sat down on a stool to plan next summer’s campaign. Every few minutes he rose, ruffled his hair and absentmindedly stretched his hands over the smokey blaze. While he was standing thus a horse ambled slowly up and catching sight of a bunch of dried grass under the table, which has been used to light the massive fire,
shoved his massive head between the legs of the table.
Meanwhile Caesar was studying intently a piece of charred wood, seeing in it—who knows?—perhaps the Rubicon. Suddenly he raised his head and an expression of comic dismay and indecision overspread his face. The map of Gaul borne on the chill north wind was beating a rapid retreat towards Rome; the table had collapsed in horror at such treachery and the stool was rolling in headlong haste down the hill. In the midst of this chaos the horse stood chewing; he took a loing, complacent look at the mighty conqueror who in his turn stared in amused astonishment. Then with a whinny of delight the horse trotted up and rubbed
his white nostrils in Caesar’s rough cloak.
Caesar gave him a loving slap on the neck and Aquilius alone heard him say with a chuckle as he went to find Publius, “Aquilius, you scoundrel, you have saved me a hundred sesterces but we’re vanquished, yes vanquished, for the gods only know
where Gaul has flown.”
MARY BOSWORTH, 201.