Bryn Mawr College - Bryn Mawr Yearbook (Bryn Mawr, PA)

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24 THE BOOK OF THE CLASS OF NINETEEN-T WELVE the superior qualities of their candidate and those members of our little Athenian Democ- racy who remained true to the Greek tradition, as sturdily upheld Monty ' s protege. Though I say it myself, I made an admirable campaign manager, for know, O reader, that by now I had become an ever-faithful devotee of those Druidic-Romanic-Ionic-Buddhistic har- monies. I was everywhere at once, explaining, arguing, illustrating, suggesting practical improvements in the Scale, which would enable it to be learned with ease. Every now and then Monty would be requested to sing it again. At such moments she arose, wrapped her gown about her in classic folds and, in time to the solemn notes of Come we the Class o-of Nineteen Twe-e-elve, paced with as much majesty as the somewhat limited space would allow, back and forth between the table and the fireplace, chanting as she went. It was very impressive. We voted by a large majority to accept her song. And then the trouble began to brew, Trouble that Monty couldn ' t subdue, that is, for a while. The song had to be adapted to popular needs. Jean and others put their beautiful heads together and discussed matters harmonious. They wore out the floor of Music Room G in a frantic effort to ever increase in peripatetic excellence, and still one little difficulty remained. They could walk, all right, and they could sing, all right, but they could not walk and sing at the same time. (This was awkward.) Monty could, but then Lantern Night was supposed to be a co-operative affair. At last they saw a great light and they said Goto! We will not sing ft J. Ajf- See the difference? Simple yet momentous.

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THE BOOK OF THE CLASS OF NINETEEN-TWELVE 23 with mysterious lines and other symbols scattered through them. Her eyes blazed with the divine fire of inspiration and her lips continually flung forth wild sounds. A Sibyl, you will say, with the leaves from her sacred book upon her lap; or perhaps one of the sisterhood of Cassandra uttering dire portents? Melpomene herself, maybe? Wrong, all wrong! It was Monty composing our Freshman Lantern song. It is difficult to get along with a genius. One must handle it with one ' s newest, whitest 16-button glace gloves. At this present juncture, slipping mine on with haste, I said rever- ently, How did the idea come to you? I was reading one of Milton ' s Latin poems, Monty replied, with a that-explains-it- all air. Oh! yes. I see, and you — er? The meter sort of got into my head and then the music from some old Gregorian Chants I ' d heard mingled in with it and the words simply came of themselves. Don ' t you think it ' s very Greek in spirit? In a dazed way I was trying to puzzle out the formula Miltonic meter + Gregorian Chant „, ,, ,.. - : — : = Greek Spirit, Inspiration so I could only murmur stupidly, Greek? Yes, and then of course it ' s written to the Greek Scale, and she illustrated vocally from the text; it may have to be modified for the class. With a mental picture of 1912, packed sardine-wise in Music Room G, learning the Greek Scale, and 1912 in a straggly line pacing the chilly cloisters to the accompaniment of the Greek Scale, I agreed that it might have to be modified. The next week came a Sturm und Drang Period in the annals of the Class of 1912. Class-meeting succeeded class-meeting and the Lantern Song was the mooted question. The final battle was fought out in Merion Students ' sitting-room. Partisan feeling ran high. The adherents of Mr. Brown, familiarly known as the waltz king, stoutly proclaimed

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THE BOOK OF THE CLASS OF NINETEEN-TWELVE 26 The rest belongs to history. Everybody knows of the great night and of the plaudits of an admiring multitude. What I have tried to do, feebly and falteringly, mayhap, as one conscious of a great message and fearful lest he let drop some portion of his precious burden, is to draw the veil away from the first wonderful beginning of our Lantern Song, to give posterity a glimpse, a somewhat more intime impression of genius at work and of the rise and development of a masterpiece. Julia Taylor Houston.