The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1885-1921, 1904-06-13
YOUNG HARRIS
AND THE YELL

We agree with the author of des-
| patch sent from Macon. Ga, to the At
lanta Journal.
college boys and girls all over the
country will read with peculiar interest
of the effect the college yell has had
| upon the vocal chords of Miss Pearl
Turner of Macon
She is a student in Wesleyan Female
College. The sweet girl undergradu-
ates, bound to assert their full equality
with the boys in educational capabili-
F., ties and the fruits of culture" have
! been engaged in a glorious rivalry ito
show to the public which OF the five
classes could make the greatest amount
of noise with the college yells.'' At
night the learned yellers were too
hoarse to speak above a whisper; but
morning and the swift reaction of youth
restored their speech. Not to Miss Tur-
ner, however. She didn't rally from her
hoarseness. A specialist told her that
one of her vocal chords was paralyzed
and the other seemed to be. Later ad-
vices report that one chord will be
spared The voice will not be lost. 1t
can still contribute meekly and duly
to the yell of dear old Wesleyan Fee
male.
This is more important than the
Philistine and workaday world thinks.
What is college without a yell? Less
than nothing. A yell is the nub, the
essence, the head and feet. the heart
and lights of a college education. When
we hear a sound as ali the fends from
heaven that fell had pealed the dear old
Hades yell, then we know that our
young barbarians are studying, as they
should, and we send 'em a little bigger
check and a little less of valuable adj
vice and directions If the girls can
keep up their yell with the boys there
is nothing more to worry about. The
broad fabric of our educational institu-
lions is all wool and yard wide.
Where is that voice not heard? In
this same number of the Atlanta Jour
nal the Hon. Ben F. Perry gives a long
description of Young Harris College in
Young Harris, Ga, eighteen miles
southeast of Murphy, N. C. Young Har-
rfs lies in the arms of Brasstown VAL
ley, screened from the outer world by
many mountains, Bald, Cedar, Track
Rock, the Three Sisters and Blood
Brasstown Creek, Hiawassee River and
other streams from the mountains wash
that happy valley. The soil is fertile.
The cabbages are of the whitest and
largest. The turnips are sweet as sum-
mer. Red clover and the pea vine
abound, "succulent pasturage for the
cattle on thousand hills" The hogs
board themselves on the mast in the
forest. The climate is bracing. The
people are hospitable. There are no
markets There is practically no COM
merce along those rough mountain
roads. There are only two or three IA
miles of negroes In the county. In
Young Harris itself there is not even
one Senegambian. Here, if anywhere,
is an isle of bliss, a perpetual picnic
under the greenwood tree.
It is good to know that Young Harris,
only seventeen years old, is worthy of
it's situation and true to the chief duty
of a college. The mountains look on
Young Harris with wonder. The Three
Sisters turn pale and Blood looks blood
Ter than ever as Young Harris sounds
to the universe its defiance with this
wild, triumphant snort:
"Bumalacka, bumalacka, bow-wow-
WOW,
Chickalacka, chickalacka, chow,
chow, chow,
Bumalacka, chickalacka, who are
we?
We are the boys of the Y. H. c."
Thus from beyond the severing and
unsociable peaks Young Harris pro-
claims it's membership in the academic
fraternity. Thus it sings its strange
gibberish hymn to all the other young
savages. On Princeton's sands it plants
its iron squeal. The heights of Morn
ingside salute the heights that wall in
Brasstown' Valley. Young Harris is a
member in good and regular standing
of the Corporation of Colleges and the
Sons of Noise.-New York Sun.