Springfield College - Massasoit Yearbook (Springfield, MA)

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; MASSASOITV ; A In 111 hatever else we were not -we were, at lea t, humble. W e stole the Sophomore canoe and broke up the Cooley Hotel pecialtv and troubled our inheritance. I .ess noisome than a pestilence, we knew our place but as no one agreed with 11s about it. of course we couldn’t get along. Truly we had a great beginning — thrust or brought to bear upon us for the most part. ' Twas great to be a Sophomore. We had a good future behind us and had arrived.” We came back to take charge of things and mainly to tell the Frosh where to head in. Strange to say, we found the Freshmen dumber than we could ever have been. We ran the D. D. I ). ' s as never before or since. We got mixed up. and by careful manipulations had a number of seniors and faculty members up on the carpet before the Imperial Gizzard. We had them so scared some of our bravest men had to leave school. We had the singular horror of being present when those who could voted a binding amendment to Dr. McCurdy’s constitution while strapped up like heroes in the East Gymnasium. Yes. we were martyrs to the cause. The cause of all this was. of course, the Frosh. With all the arrogance and intolerance of self-invested, authority, we struggled through the year to a glorious victory, though our numbers were greatly diminished. e were Sophomores but once, but who can say we did not make the most of it ? ' Twas greater still we were, as Juniors. We had that throw your hat away” attitude, so apparent and significant in third year men. Safely past the Freshman ignorance and Sophomore false wisdom we were content to rest on our borrowed paddles a hit and go to school. The allusion to paddles is with reference to initiation paddles, not canoe paddles. We were above the squib- bling of mere Frosh and Sophs. Ah ! you have guessed it ! We had heard the cantankerous call of the Intellectuals. e had to learn about this business of life, love, work, death and salary. But we had our fun. That is — we didn’t study all the time. There was Lake Massasoit calling us — hardly an intellectual call, hut a little bit of all right y’ know. Then came the Junior trip — a picnic on wheels. You learn a lot of stuff ;.ou want to forget, you forget a lot of addresses and phone numbers you want to remember. A lot of men shake hands with you at lunch time to keep you from eating and you go to a lunch room after each banquet. A good time was had by all who participated but those who did not indulge were healthier and — wealthier ! The Junior Prom was what was a prom. Every one had a hot time. “Swimmin’ Down to Lane’s” was the popular air Xuf Sed. Ah! Juniors — pre— seniors -quiet, studious, inactive, looking back, look- ing ahead, more than half way through, the crowning milestones yet to be obtained. ( 28 ) ■T ZL SPRINGFIELD VI

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MAS SAS o I n JOHN G. LANG. Senior Class Officers President John G. Lang Vice-president Willard P. Ashbrook Secretary L. E. Hutto Treasurer T. I). P. Aldrich Class History WAS great, when we were Freshmen. Do not mistake me, I did not say we were great, though we might have been. We laughed seldom. It was not being permitted by those higher up. nor being indulged in by those lower down, meaning ourselves. We dragged our prescribed thirty hours a week doggedly. We bore the indigni- ties of initiation where they did not show. We withstood the humili- jj ating and absurd ceremonies of the D. D. D.’s without an audible murmur. We thought a lot but one cannot be arrested for that. I sav we withstood it be- cause sitting was not a pleasure. But we were veritable lions in sheepskins and not because the weather was cold. Our souls rebelled ofttimes, but our feet made of clav, with fallen arches and hay clinging to them as to an old friend, carried us falteringly but surely to the end of our servitude. Down the designated path we trod as beaten a path as we were. ( 27 ) SPRINGFIELD f Jr. ' I VI T 1 9 Z 4 T A: m i’ i ' 1 m

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MASSASOIdG ’Tis great to be a Senior. No thesis to write, no early classes, no thirty hours a week, no Junior Prom tax. no sidewalk to build — nothin? hut debts! Oh! Boy! Riding on the top of the World on an Band wagon waiting for the axe. Graduation just ahead — the last milestone. Just waiting around for the “ ell done, go on High . It’s like closing one volume and opening another quite different. It is finishing school and entering lif e on the outside — an end, a beginning. Ye are glad to go in a way — almost impatient to be off doing something. And yet it is not easy to pull away and go by one’s self again. We leave rather reluctantly because we leave each other and our home for four of the happiest years of our lives. All we have enjoyed so much will soon he hut a memory. But ’tis well. We must go and we are ready. With an assurance that life’s problems are hut another form of college problems and the spirit of success in life is none other than the spirit of success in college, we go to to work, apart yet not alone, humble, but not afraid. • ir ' (29)