Written May 13, 1913 at age 18

Note - He included margin notes, so I'll include them too, but they don't mean anything to me.

The Senior Class of Monson,

The town where they were born,

Should have respect from each one

Who studies quite forlorn.

A little group of great-to-be,

A happy class were they

Who studied very faithfully,

Will now lead forth the way.

The lessons that they learned in school

Are elementary study.

Beyond this town they learn the rule

At college for each body.

They seek for knowledge, partner,

They try the goal to gain;

They study ever harder

Away from home and main.

The first one on the alphabet

Will be a famous teacher;            Helen Arnold

The last, I'm sure, well, I just bet,

Will be a great inventor.               Rolla Wilson

The second on the list will be

A Senator in Congress;                Kenneth Davis

About the doubtful Ruby P.,

I'm sure I can not guess.

E. Gilman laughs to see herself

A parson's 'blinging wife.

Ruth Larson weeps with bitter pelf

To give the stage her life.

V. Gilman doesn't know her fate

Unlike poor Mary Larson

Who never misses being late,

But she is not the worst one.

G. Glover lives a life of hope,

But 'twon't be so forever;

Because she often uses soap:

I guess she's very clever.

Who said O. Johnson, poor old chap,

The best milkman in Monson;

I can't quite leave him off the map,

For his life is a great one.

Well, well, our Prof. I mustn't slight;

I guess he doesn't like me

Because I said, "but that's all right",

And since, he's tried to bite me.

Miss Strout, the best of all the corps

Of teachers in the High School,

Has surely got a poor bosser

Because he has no class rule.

I hope I haven't slighted you

In mapping out your future;

But, if I have, you must not do

The stunt I've put here for you.

If you dislike this little clue,

Remember all your chores;

For some small child is watching you,

To carve his life like yours.