Loyola University Maryland - Evergreen / Green and Gray Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

Page 14 text:

6 THE LOYOLA ANNUAL the pride of his collection and carefully saved for this occa- sion ; in pleasant contrast his pink and green tie next asserted itself, its broad ends permitted to flow with a studied care- lessness. Then came the suit proper, so to speak, and last but not least that hosiery display. They were red, there could be no doubt as to that, and such red — well, I won’t try to tell you anything further than that they were red. Fatty strolled nonchalantly down the street, and not deign- ing to notice the many sighs of admiration that came from the campus fence, pursued his solitary way. No admira- tion from the male population however great, could suffi- ciently compensate Fatty for his artistic efforts. Beau Brummel in his prime could not have walked on the same side of the street with Fatty to-day. Yes, Fatty had decided that female admiration must be his, and so he headed for the Boulevard. Boarding an F Street car, he sat down with the greatest pains, and then with a majestic slowness pro- ceeded to expose an immense amount of red socks. It was only when he handed the open-mouthed conductor his fare, that he became conscious of the fact that there was a very pretty young lady sitting opposite him. Immediately he be- gan to endeavor to charm the young lady. First he tried a smile, but strange to say it had no effect. Next the smile was coupled with a nod; still the fair damsel refused to be charmed. So, after many smiles and furtive nods. Fatty gave up in despair. At length the female attraction reached her des- tination and alighted from the car to pass, as it seemed, from the vision of tender-hearted Fatty, to be seen no more. The seat just vacated happened to be a choice one, so after strain- ing his neck to see the last of his soul-mate. Fatty moved over. Other girls came in, saw, and were conquered by the in- imitable Fatty; but no, our hero had eyes for none of them, for he was sad, sad with the sadness like unto a toothache.

Page 13 text:

THE LOYOLA ANNUAL 5 C e Romance of a Carts Ca e. F atty, be it known, was a college student. College had just opened for the first term, and Fatty was about to enter into all the glory of his sophomore year. Last year he had not been able to assimilate much of the city life, as the mighty sophomores kept him under their watchful guardianship. Now all was different. Fatty was no longer the poor, down-trodden freshman; his year of sack- cloth and ashes, and humble submission, was over. Now Fatty, as you may have guessed from his cognomen, was inclined to breadth, rather than height; despite this fact, determined to celebrate his em ancipation, he went to his tailor and ordered a suit of the loudest check pattern that could be found. At last after many v eary days of waiting and telephoning, the suit arrived. It was a most beautiful day and Fatty determined to make the most of it. Some people thought that it was a brass band approaching, but no, it was only Fatty arrayed in his nev7 suit. With a straw hat, encircled by a bright red band, tilted most rakishly over one eye, there could be no doubt as to the upper part of his attire; then came his green shirt.

Page 15 text:

THE LOYOLA ANNUAL 7 Presently he remembered his mission, and looking down to see if a sufficient amount of hosiery was exposed to view, he saw a small silver card-case lying at his feet. Fatty had never starred in either induction or deduction, but it did not take him thirty seconds to decide that it belonged to his fair admired. Without attracting any undue attention. Fatty quietly put the case in his pocket and alighted from the car. He wished to examine his prize in the privacy of his own apartment, and giving up all thoughts of parading on the Boulevard, he took the next car for home. Arriving there, he at last opened the case; and found reposing therein three five-dollar bills and a few visiting cards. The cards were inscribed with the name of “ Miss Florrie Wynan,’ “ Hotel Plimmon.” At last, thought our embryo Sherlock Holmes, he had a clue. And what a pretty name! Florrie just suited a dainty little blonde like her. Well, here is where Harold makes a hit. (I forgot to tell you that Fatty’s real name was Harold— yes! Flarold, even though he did weigh 210 in the shade.) That evening there was great consternation at the Frat house. Fatty wouldn’t eat one- third his usual amount. He even passed pie; and no fellov will pass pie unless he is really sick. Now if it had been anyone else, the fellows would have asked him who the girl v as. But with Fatty- Fatty was too substantial looking to be in love. Little did his fellow-students think of the very romantic spirit that dwelt in that plump body,— little recked they of the ardent fire that burned in Fatty’s noble breast, and was even now making him pass the pie he loved so dearly. Even the cher- ished after-dinner smoke v as forgotten. Blonde head— blue eyes — dimpled cheeks— and rose-bud mouth were continually dancing before his lovelorn eyes. At last he could endure it no longer.