There are about four people in this building who are aware of a very small, very pink room at the very end of E-hallway. This room goes into the bowels of IHS; the journey is not for the faint of heart. Within those four pink walls contain four average-looking filing cabinets, each containing the annals of IHS Tattler history going back 125 years. Here follows a small selection.
December 1, 1892
You call me trifler, fainéant,
And bid me give my life an aim!
You’re most unjust, my dear. Hear me out,
And own your hastiness to blame.
I live without a single thought;
My inmost heart and soul are set
On one sole task– a mighty one–
To simplify our alphabet.
Five vowel sounds we use in speech:
They’re A, and E, I, O, and U;
I mean to cut them down to four.
You wonder, “what good that will do!”
Why, this cold earth will bloom again
Eden itself be half re-won,
When breaks the dawn of my success
And U and I at last are one.
FOOT BALL AT ELMIRA: Ithaca still holds the High School Championship, and why.
The Ithaca team arrived at Elmira 11.50, via. E. C. & N., walked to Wyckoff House, carrying luggage. Here they were given one small room in which to dress.
At 2.15 they left for the grounds in a crowded car, with expectations of playing at 2.30. Arriving at the grounds, they found they were situated on a hill, and running east from Maple Avenue entrance. Some of the minor obstacles were sidewalks, telegraph poles, balloon ascension pits, etc.
Upon such a ground as above described, the Ithaca team awaited the arrival of the Elmiras for one hour, then direct from their warm dressing room came the victors. The toss was won by Capt. Sears, who defended the downhill goal… It would be impossible to describe the usage meted out to the Ithaca team, for not only the referee, but the crowd also were prejudiced, and on the field so far that the Ithacans could not play around their ends, this crippling them very much, as it is their strongest play… [Elmira] is not an academy team; it is composed of three academy boys, and the remaining eight are pickups to defeat I.H.S. only.
It would be to the benefit of the school if some of the energy wasted by the faculty and students in pushing semi-important projects should be directed on a “Good Manners Campaign.” “Good Manners” is a subject that is not definitely included in the school curriculum, although feeble and inconsistent efforts have been made by various teacher to have their pupils study it by themselves. Good manners and courtesy will carry you where your limited knowledge of Latin or math or any other subject will not. In your social life, you cannot succeed unless you have these attainments. Your manners will not give you any immediate pecuniary compensation, they may not bring better marks on your report card, but they will bring you the respect of your classmates and the teachers and the world at large. Remember that practice makes perfect– so begin now.
[early issues are full of short jokes called “Tattles”:]
Miss Mitchell: “Your sketch of the room lacks atmosphere.”
“Issy”: “I was thinking of putting in a ventilator.”
A letter to the editor from an I.H.S. alumna studying to be a nurse in WWI at the Crouse-Irving Hospital, Syracuse, N.Y.
February 20, 1918
Dear Old I.H.S’ers:
I cannot tell you how happy I am here. Every part of the hospital is wonderful, everything is interesting and grows more interesting to me every day. I am afraid this letter will be very “incoherent,” for I do not find much time to write and this time I have a class on Psychology by one of the doctors in fifteen minutes… I would recommend this training for any girl who is interested in physiology, zoology, or more, of course, in the biggest thing of all– becoming a war-nurse… Syracuse is such a nice city… I realize more and more, though, as I see the high schools here, how much we had to be thankful for there in dear old I.H.S…. I must go to class now, so will end this letter by telling you that there’s no greater field for “helpfulness” than in a hospital, and no finer way for a girl to do “her bit” than to be a nurse “over there.” This I hope will happen to me some time.
Your very sincere alumna,
Marion L. Kennedy ’17
Tattler Goes to B.E.D.
The production of the 1967-68 TATTLER is far different from that of past years. This year’s all-new TATTLER is written, edited, compiled and printed almost exclusively at IHS…
Once stories have been written and edited for publication, they are sent to be “set” into columns with even right-hand margins by a new IBM Composer, a machine similar to a typewriter, in that letters are typed directly onto paper using a carbon ribbon. An extra copy of each story is then Zeroxed [sic] in the main office. This copy is used for “paste-up” purposes to be pasted onto sheets of paper the size of a Tattler page in order to determine story placement… Photographs, somewhat more complicated that type to print, are handled separately.
When all corrections have been made, the final paste-up is put together. The pages are then photographed, and the photographs are “opaqued.” This means removing unwanted marks or imperfections by covering them. The photographic images are then transferred to thin metallic plates.
The TATTLER is now ready for printing. Each sheet of paper printed contains four pages, two on each side, and must go through the press twice to print both sides. When color is used, a separate run is necessary for each color used. After the sheets have been printed, they must be folded, inserted, stapled, and trimmed to complete the process.
[And to think that now, we just press “print”!]
April 1, 2007
Math Department Streaks Quad
by R. Etna Burns
Last Friday, the IHS Math Department caused a commotion by streaking in the quad during fifth period. The department’s members had gone temporarily insane, having been presented with one infinity paradox too many… Apparently convinced that the solution to the paradox could be determined experimentally, the department members attempted to circle the quad an infinite number of times… The wayward Math Department members desisted only once they could no longer keep track of the number of circuits they had completed by counting on their fingers and various other appendages. Those who lasted longest were suspected to have been counting in binary… Severin Drix, the first math teacher to regain his sanity… declared the teacher’s collective intent to avoid future situations by declining to attempt such advanced math puzzles. “For now, we’ll stick to the simple stuff. You know, related rates, epsilon-delta proofs, the Lagrange remainder theorem…We’re not eager for another incident with this kind of aftermath.”