St Johns College - Yearbook (Annapolis, MD)

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pretty, but it is not Virginia Creeper. This came from New York, and I have never seen. any other like it. Down in the corner above the quails' nest lives a Smith. His. is a useful trade, and to meet the demands made on him he has purchased an automatic bellow, by which he is enabled to keep his fire hot continually. All that is necessary is a winding up in the morning. ' I live in the third field. To the right of my house the Pokeiyj weeds have full sway and useless is any attempt to devote the land to a more prontable use. Some time ago my hens began to disappear quite rapidly, and after some searching Idis- covered a Fox den not far away. I have laid all kinds of traps, but sly old Reynard is too wary to be caught. Over there is my pig-sty. At present it contains but one occu- pant. This Piggie came from the Eastern shore and bids fair to be a fine porker by butchering time. In my garden I have an acre of Parsley. It is nicely headed, stands well, and looks very promising. e e A ' I But let us continue to the next iield. I had anexcellent growth of Hops in it, but a mischievous Bull broke into it and almost ruined themg -then a dense growth of Jimson weed sprang up. I fear they have wrought sad havoc with the Hops. - I cannot show you the other field, for it is rather. dangerous for a stranger to venture within its limits. There is another vicious Bull in there and he would surely Gore you. Three men once went in there to hunt and all that remains of them now is a pile of Bones. But here comes my boy Ned: I have talked away the whole afternoon and now must go home to supper. A With these words Mr. Father, in spite of my request not to be in a hurry, shouldered his rod, and, with a hurried good bye, started for home! I made my way to my boarding house, and next day I went to have another talk with him, but he was gone, and never since have I been able to find him. L ' y l j Ya It 1',?S -cx X , h? '. ' fl I Zv , W -. :famu-W 'f!F44f '- , 0 ' 4 - ,f W 0 5, W MQ Q25 u 4 n i 213

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Conclusion Our task is drawing to a close. For long weeks we havetoiled to produce a book that would stand asa picture of St. John's, and a memorial to the clas f 1905 V s o . We have worked when we should have been sleeping, and slept when we should have been working- the editor has worried his a ' t t ' 'H ' ' ' g ssis an s and the ,assistants have worried him until, together, they have succeeded in publishing a RAT-TAT 'Within its covers are man th' . . y mgs interesting only to the students, and doubtless some things. that are of no interest to any one. Even now as we lan b k ' A ' g ce ac over these pages we see many improvements that might be made, and we long for one more trial. But the time -has passed, and there dawns upon us the truth 'of Whittier's immortal lines,- , Of all sad words of tongue or pen, H . - The saddest are these: It might have been. n In the short space that yet remains we wish to thank most heartily those persons who have contributed to whatever of success this book ma have attain , y ed. ,To the following artists we are indebted for the illustrations found herein: Miss Sicely M. Wilson, Gertrude Meyer, Beulah M. Spring, Les1ie.Woo'ds, Mary Tower, Miss Johnson, Messrs. Walter R. Gale, Charles H. McNabb, J. F. Linthicum, H. A. Taylor, Dick Clarke and Guy Neff. s l And now it is late-very late. The town is wrapped in slumber, and no sound. save the monotonous tick-tack, tick-tack of the old clock on the wall disturbs the sombre silence of Pinkney. One by one the writers have. fallen into the arms of Morpheus, until the editor is left alone. The Muse has deserted him. His paper becomes blurred as the light grows dimmer and dimmer, and the pen drops from his weary fingers9he has fallen asleep. A non i.,-. f.,..gg-.fqsxf X. X VZ NJ ' f MNXZ V KW 9 agx M I 215