The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1904-09-20
CITY We VS.
old JACK RAPIN
COMES And GOES
HOBO POET OF THE COLLEGE
WORLD AT THE GU"
His Peregrinations Bring Him Again to
the Minnesota Campus The Same
Old Rhyming Rapin, He Makes New
Friends in a Hospitable Frat House.

Muttering odd .jingles and lyrical
and college parasite, hobo bard known
from the yard at Harvard to the quad,
rangl es at Berkeley ERIK stumbled across the
ne a. campus e was emost sasr
and the few freshmen loiterers thought
the old, white haired man was some
learned professor, careless of his dress.
But turning q corner, the old poet ran
into some seniors who instantly recog
nized him and carried him off to their
frat house as a prize too good to be lost.
After Jack had warmed his poor old
body before the hearth fire, the old
time light entered his eyes, and, with a
mastefful tone, he called for tea and
toast. g..
mIm s qH?iate ;, Engg lTh, y oH knGw4fa at
poet. Old Sam johnson drank eigh-
teen, cups and then wrote his Twenty
and One.' -.
Should the guardian, friend or mother
Tell the woes of wistful waste,
scorn their counsel scorn their pother--
You can hang or drown at last.
After the old man had consumed the
tea with great relish he began to tell
the boys Of his adventures since last
visiting the Minnesota campus. 1t
seems that he has paid a regular visit to
the southern colleges, but that his old
time friends had gone away and the
new classes had never heard of old Jack
Rapin. At Georgetown he was locked
up for a vagrant and the papers called
him the court poet. He was let out be-
cause the judge was pleased with little
doggerel that he wrote upon a breach Of
promise suit then on trial:
In truth I kissed her, pretty maid;
Upon my soul rue it,
Curses on the spiteful jade!
TO ever let me do it.
The dinner gong rang and old Jack
| was hustled into the diningroom and
given the seat of honor at the head of
the table. Rising to his feet, with eyes
half closed, he bent forward and ex--
tended his bony hands before him, and
in his thin, high piping voice extempor-
lied an ode to his new college friends:
| Bring on your birds nest buildings,
| spiced,
Or picked kangaroo tails, iced;
| For I'm a college boy tonight
| From crack Of supper bell till light.
Tomorrow I'm the college bard.
Who begs his way from yard to yard;
Tonight I'm young. Who bids me nay?
So fill the bowl and we'll be gay.
Here's a toast to MINES 'U';
May you twist the Badgers tail, a few,
And send Nebraska up the f1ue,
| And teach them all a thing or two.
After this sally the bard's attention
was drawn to his plate and he fell to
with force that left little time for
poetical inspiration. When the dinner
was finished and the pipes were brought
in, the fire of genius was again kindled.
Rapin stumbled to the door and, laying
one hand on the knob, waved farewell:
"Boys,N said he, IT ain It never told
it before, but say, I was college boy
! like you fellows once, William and
Mary s, class Of '51--fne class too, all
but this worthless hobo. But what does
| that matter? - 49, "a 49,.
Away with ambition, beastly goad,
For I'm a hobo, king of the road.
The poet shuffled thru the door. One
of the boys passed him a half dollar,
which he took covertly and with a
"thank you, sir slipped into the outer
| darkness, muttering:
When I was young?-Ah woful when!
All! for the change 'twixt Now and Then!