The daily morning journal and courier., 1907-06-25

quleted all tears by displaying a billy and a dark 4antern. Syl
 On the fifst5 Saturday nightsbf our college career when. would be griHds
 had already settled down. to a steady Consumption of Analyt, and midnight
 oil, and would-be jolly boys lad
 already sought to solve the mysteries l Of the N. W. passage from the Tont.
 to Jake's-Andy Eddy Long and Brooks Nichols marshalled us again in
 front of the Temple Street barracks. The Seniors were already weaving the mazy serpentine up Hillhouse avenue
 to the accompanying boom and blare Of the band and the sputter and drip of grimy torches, their costumes hint ed at the oyerhauling of the stocks of both Poli and P T. Barnum Their keg wagon reeled up the avenue to the strains of Good Bye Dolly Cray" and their faces were grotesquely happy.
 We fell in behind the hilarious Juniors with more torches and took our way we knew not whither. Coats were on inside-out and coats were lacking, nasty misf1t clothing disgrac- led our rabbles. But our hearts were ldaantless, come what might. This was the night Of nights and the transcend ing glory. The marshals ran up and down the steaming cohorts shouting unintelligible things about long cheers" and short cheers" and we yelled with more vociference than CO., herence. Finally our destiny-the Whitney avenue arena-was reached. Quit you're shovini" "Get back, Fresh!" Way for the booze wagon!' Freshman lightweight! More beer!" and such slogans filled the air. A whisper went the rounds, of jiu-jitsu expert concealed in our ranks, and cries of "Omeda!" and "the Jap-glve 1s the Jap!" rent the welkin. Clare Burnham, the mighty exponent of Junior science, finally faced our Mon golian henchman upon the sward.
 "0h! Brothers, draw a curtain.
 Our grief is too uncertain"
 The jiu-iitsu failed to jitz-a burst of fireworks and ingloriously the hopes of 1907 S. bit the dust. Ches Norton Inext carried our banner to the fore land conclusively "rooked" Dan Moon in a battle royal. Then mighty Naeth- ling, commonly known as From Shark ey,' strode forth for the last, the heavyweight contest. "Comeone-come Iall! This rock shall fly from it's firm base as soon as IT. shouted he, and Jack Darragh promptly did all the aerial navigation necessary. And so-back again with the oily Itorch-lit haze around us, haloing the heads of our acclimed victors who |swayed silhouetted aginst the light on the shoulders of our victorious happy throng as we roared our way into town
 The Shelf. Rush once well over and "Granny's' or "Pereey's" Analyt En- Iporiums having claimed us for the 'hurly burly of our first collegiate term, football became the warning interest of the Fall. Tn sooth. 1907 S. has ever bred, goodly pigskin warriors. What Ajax could vie with rubicund Cher ub'' Holloway's Giant proportions or graceful alertness or the gridiron; Fat" Sherman's willowy sprightli- ness or Buck Stuart's dogged persls- tence. Then Eddie Long, Val Cham berlain, Jack Remsey Lee Wilson, Ros Park, Howard Linn, Paul Veeder, Flock and Frank Wernecken (the four latter to later become top-notch pigskin artists), moleskin victories for 1907 s. also claimed
 But let Us onward Christmas exams. and vacation struck Shefftown storm fly. Many of us rode the breakers safe- ly ashore with "No conditions" cards, however, and January found us again foregathering in the old haunts to- gether to talk over and compare Christ mas dinners and such sweet and sur feitous memories.
 Then came the Junior Prom. and its attendant caucus of the two Freshman classes in the crowded peanut heaven of the Hyp. Jim Parker and Marsh Bartholomew 4gnited their poetic fires with scores of numeraled tracts, which, 1luttering parquet-ward on that memorable evening, conveyed to the hoi polloi below sentiments somewhat as follows:
 "Shed no tear-oh, shed no tear.
 But wait for us another year.
 This Prom. is slow-I rather guess!
 But wait for 19-7 s.
 He wears my tie, he wears my collar
 The Skate who sits by you--
 o,vo,, Ioo+ bioo I,ale n AdaIoy
 To see the evening through.
 But the finest effusion of all "born to blush unsee" but finally cruelty un- earthed from the Dope-letters of one John Madden, the Beau Brummel, reads as follows:
 "If you love me, Ethel love,
 Drop your fan and look above.
 If you do not, Ethel dear,
 I will drown myself in beer"
 Poor, bedeviled first courses. They were requested slogans 10000 voices strcng to Kindly remove that hat!" "Cut de roughn "Get a man-get a man!" and asked in no less dulcet tones, "Is she your sister," Where's your union card?" "Does Mother know you're out?" As crowds swarmed in the uproar grew ineessant and the air was thick with confetti The fishing began. Buck" Stuart lowered several large blotter-pads to receive. replies on and every one dangled alluring notes before the sparkling eyes of the pippins below. The pippins answered many. Nay, Ru- nor hath it that even Sid Murray and Big Naething received flattering replies from the fair sex. To the last Denny Barkalow stuck valiantly to his post