Indiana University - Arbutus Yearbook (Bloomington, IN)

Page 23 text:

li K A M -- THE SEVEN C ' S Froiii Kip iriir ' s L ' Envoi. When life ' s last lesson is mastered and our knowledge is all cut and dried, When the oldest professor has fainted and the youngest instructor has died; We shall sleep! And, faith, we shall need it — lie down for a minute or two Till we get a professor that ' s easy, wiio shall give us nothing to do. The bookworms shall be conditioned, while those who purchase a book Shall be looked down upon as moss-backs. U ' e shall lounge in the cool Book Nook! We ' ll be given gold keys free-gratis; we shall dangle them (in a c hain. While we traverse the Board-Walk together, or wander down Lovers ' Lane. We shall have real fellows to walk with: — Hebel, and Jerry, and Paul ; ' e shall chatter with them a whole evening and never be bored at all, For we ' ll go to the Crescent together, and we ' ll come home by way of Cook ' s Inn, And we ' ll notice the postcards from Hershcy ' s where others before us have been Li the well-house or down Indiana. And the dean she shall never get next; And our favorite teacher shall pass us, if we tell him we haven ' t a text. Our parents shall think we are working for the joy of the work. From afar They shall send us our checks, never seeing the conditions of tilings as they are! INDliA-L

Page 22 text:

nL HEaiani THE FINDING OF THE ARBUTUS 1 B Y J (.) H X r R I C F. C A R K i 1 As tiie crow flics in tlie evening, it has been a Vtliird of a century since I first saw the Ar- butus in the hills east of Bloomington. Doubtless before this time many men and women had drunk of the fragrance of the little flower, had seen purity in its heart and taken courage, but this was the first time it had its name in the newspaper as being at home in Indiana. The spring of 1878 had been early, then came a blizzard, with a half-foot of snow. I had found the flower one April afternoon; I could not trace it to its proper name; had placed it out of doors for study; then came the storm. But the day of which I write was a perfect day in May. Over all shown the cloudless blue sky. Led by the great teacher, Herman B. Boisen, a party consisting of Judge Robinson, Professor Harris, William Spangler — the poet of the school, who afterward married a farm, a widow with seven children, and a coon dog, in Brown county — a student, whose name I have forgotten, and myself started for the Hurricanes. Near a hun- dred years ago there had been a windstorm through the woods and it had left the name to the wild place. Where the little brook comes from the south, we stopped. At the first draw that comes into this from the east, Herr Boisen threw himself down on the leaves which had gathered there and was telling how much the landscape looked like the Adirondacks when the flower was brought to him with the inquiry: ■■JJ ' clchc Bliimcn 1st JieseF Oh, my dear Carr, he cried, let me embrace you. After he placed the flower to his face and noted its coloring and its fragrance, he continued: I can not be mistaken. It is the Arbutus, the flower of the pilgrims. It was not known before that it grew west of the Adirondacks. From Arbutus Hill we went north to the home of a German from Herr Boisen ' s native land, where supper was served in an orchard with bud- ding blossoms, and later we all went home in a wagon, singing with the joy of youth. r- EiiAj- ' iAir

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iMMS . Ol i€ . ' ' i GOAT O M 1, R M c K THERE arc- two kinds of men, the is licked before he starts and tiie starts after he is licked. Of the two, the former are in the v; ow who One afternoon last fall a chap owning two college ow ho degrees came into my office with his cufifs scram- bled on the edges and his hair straggling. From lajoritv. the moment that he shadowed mv door I knew that ii!H: J