University of California Berkeley - Blue and Gold Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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Senior Control is a remarkable instance of the real change from class to college spirit. The authority of the oldest class in college has in it nothing of antagonism to the other three classes. Its object is a broader patriotism than that circumscribed by mere class lines. It has its inspiration in the good work of the associated students, the body politic, and it is right that they, as the counselors and highest officers in that or- ganization, should extend their sphere of influence until it touches all forms of student activity and reaches out a sympathetic helping hand to the sorely tried faculty. The modern senior ideal is the elevation of the college commonwealth above any class or faction, and, for the realization of this aim, the senior is willing to sink even his own individuality. It has been found, however, that a healthy spirit of leadership in the senior class means more than self-effacement. Thus the future college will more and more come to look to the senior class for its guidance in the troublous seas that will have to be crossed as new and unknown problems present themselves. Xorth Hall Steps. They are a tradition in themselves. Yale has her fence. Oxford has her lanes and walks. California has a weather-beaten set of wooden steps. There is nothing very heroic about the stairs themselves or about the use to which they are put. But there is not a graduate who will read these lines who has not come to know them as intimately as any portion of the college campus. Xorth Hall Steps have come to be rightly considered the hub of the whole college, about which revolve the multitudinous interests and the kaleidoscopic life of the undergraduates. They stand, as they have stood for years, as the central rallying spot of all the college men, the meeting place, the loafing; place, the forum for student conference and laughter. Many a golden hour has been bummed on the old stairs. But who cares after all? The prestige that has fastened on the southeast steps is viewed with jealousy by the college co-ed, deprived of the same privilege. Efforts have been made to appropriate other steps for similar special uses : but these agitations have not thrived. There can be no rival or substitute for North Hall Steps. E Pluribus Unum Labor Day, recently celebrated for the second time in the history of the University, is a typical case of the newer activities of the modern college. When the undertaking first went through in 1896, the student body awoke from its lethargy and saw the need of a closer common bond. Ever since that memorable occasion the students have been groping forward with that end in mind. We are nearer that ideal than ever before. Today on the college campus there is a maximum of university activities and a mini- mum of purely class activities. Particularly is this true in connection with the athletic is, where all the college interests are unified against the common rival (.or rivals), and minor antagonisms and differences in the student body are ignored. Rallies, particularly football rallies, have come within the last few years to take the most prominent place in student life. Once the support of an intercollegiate team was a doubtful quantity. A football eleven got few cheers during a season, and. even on the eve of its battle with Stanford, a mere handful of enthusiasts would appear to give the players a send-off. Support of a team during the contest was spasmodic. If it was winning it was applauded. This was easy. Even the disinterested public had spirif enough to do that. The test case came when the u ndergraduate would shout for his team when he saw it going down to certain defeat. It was a spirit that had to be developed ; and it is not claiming too much to say that the college of today has that conception of its duty to its representatives. The evolution of college spirit has been due to the healthy influence of many enthusiastic rallies, on the campus and off it. Of necessity there has been organization of all these activities, but the machinery has not made the demonstrations mechanical. On the other hand it has frequently been swal- lowed up in a spontaneous burst of enthusiasm that has cast guides and programs aside and gone whither the winds of feeling swept it. And this is good. Perhaps it is not too much to claim for the season of ' 98 the real beginning of the rally spirit. Garrett Cochran ' s presence on the gridiron, his personality strong with a sturdy Princeton patriotism, and his purpose indomitable for victory all struck the heart of a student body that had come, through many defeats, to get careless regarding its own self-respect. Cochran infused the college with his own spirit, and the spark struck fire and spread. What followed is still familiar history. The Rooter Club with its novel yells, its spirited singing, its serpentine dance, its flaming blue and gold hats this organization achieved instant fame and still holds popular attention. Its services at the big game cannot be overestimated. It has made a solid bunch of color and noise leading the rest of the field in enthusiasm, and patriotically singing and cheering its strongest even when the Cardinal has swept its eleven behind its own goal line. 29 Junior Farce Blue end

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today. These were the days of small classes and small audiences. There came a day when expansion called for new ideas, and it remained with the class of ' 94 to set a new standard for Class Day exercises, which lias been followed with minor modifications and elaborations ever since. The discovery of Ben Weed ' s Amphitheater, the natural hollow in the eucalyptus grove behind the college buildings, offered a natural auditorium for a more elaborate spectacle than had hitherto been given. The clever play-wrights of ' 94 contrived an extended drama based on the old German Vehmgericht, the secret courts that flourished in the Middle Ages. The play was given with tremendous success in the circular theater that had been found in the hillside. Underneath lofty eucalypti and shady cedars, the graduating seniors carried out in solemn burlesque the ceremonials of the gloomy old Teutonic tribunal. Around on the hillside stood or sat their friends, the spacious pit affording ample room for the accommodation of the crowd that at- tended the exercises. Little did those pioneers expect that a brief ten years would see the natural hillside give place to stately stone and the classic beauty of a Greek Theater capable of accommodating ten thousand. It has been a rapid growth from the first spectacle in the amphitheater. Since that time there have been Greek, Chinese. Aztec, Turkish and Old English settings for the old drama of the pursuit of the diploma. The increase in the size of the class and its audience has brought in many innovations. Stages have been erected, scenery painted, orchestras hired and dramatic coaches engaged until the modern class day is really an imposing affair. Now that the Greek Theater is completed, future classes will have abundant opportunity to show what ingenuity and originality can do under ideal circumstances to make this, one of Berkeley ' s most persistent traditions, flourish as vigorously as in the past. Class Day today is a combination of all the past customs. The band concert in the morning takes place under the oaks, and the senior oak is the scene of the transfer of the senior plug from the president of the graduating class to the junior president, just on the verge of seniorhood. Under these oaks, just before the start of the pilgrimage, the different classes hold impromptu graduating exercises of their own. The sophomore for the first time dons the gray glory of a junior plug. The freshman eagerly takes his first distinctive badge, the sophomore cap. (It used to be the cane, but times and manners have changed.) The upper classes, strange to say, go in for all the horse-play, and senior and junior plugs are unmercifully caved in and kicked about by rollicking class-mates. The sophomore, in his new-found dignity, is strangely quiet and reserved. There being no freshman class to molest, he has no function on class day, and remains modestly in the background. Mortar boards and gowns used to appear on these class days at irregular intervals, but the custom has never persisted, and it is now wisely relegated to the more dignified academic procession of Com- mencement Day. Commencement Week also sees the grand senior ball, the senior banquet, the library reception, the alumni reception at Hopkins Institute of Art, the baccalaureate sermon and. in the old days, Mrs. Phcebe Hearst ' s garden party at her beautiful country home, the Hacienda del Pozo de Verona, near Pleasanton. The class, usually, even if it has never had much coherence in its previous four years ' existence, gets together in a won- derful manner on these last days. It has always been so. The thought of a farewell, meaning the hopeless disruption of ties that have become dear, is something that knits hearts at parting and makes the common bond much dearer than any one supposed it ever could be. Of this only the graduating senior knows. It is something the under- graduate must learn by experience at his appointed time. The Senior Search for Prestige Senior customs, which in other colleges are of first rank, have been slow to take root at Berkeley. The class of ' 98 tried to transplant a Yale idea in a senior fence. Western ingenuity gave to the fence a broad top easy to sit upon. Patriotism made the form of the structure a C. It was intended primarily for senior loafing and deliber- ation to say nothing of cutting initials. At first, after its dedication, the Senior C was popular, but it proved to be sunny and out of the beaten path. One day a janitor and a yellow dog was seen sitting calmly on the fence, and the tradition went to pieces. A Stanford raid removed the eyesore from the campus and no sighs of regret have followed it to Palo Alto. Senior singing on North Hall steps has been tried on many different occasions. It has been tried also under the oaks. Eventually, with the growth of the Senior Control tradition, a purpose in these senior gatherings has made itself felt, and the meetings promise to be one of the most potent factors in the future undergraduate life at California. 28 Junior Farce

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ue and The Legend of the Axe IQOS The football season has come to have a number of distinctive rallies besides the impromptu affairs that are scattered throughout the period of training. Chief of these gatherings is the monster turn-out at the annual Axe Rally, a tradition which is based on one of the most picturesque incidents in the history of the University. The axe in question is one that was prepared by Stanford as an augury of victory for the final game in the baseball series of ' 99. Chanting the refrain, Give ' em the axe, the axe, the axe, and swinging this sharp blade, the Stanford partizans came up to San Francisco confident and belligerent. In the excitement of victory after the game the California men hit upon the idea of confiscating the trophy, and put their plan into instant operation. The axe was wrested from the grasp of its custodian and given to fleet-footed runners, who soon distanced their pursuers and ultimately, by many devious routes and through many perils, reached Berkeley. Here a huge impromptu celebration took place and the dismantled trophy was carried about the campus in triumph. The enraged Stanford men resorted to every known device to regain the stolen axe. The police were appealed to but in vain. A raid was made on a certain fraternity house, known to have the weapon in its charge. The Stanford men came late at night, placed the house under guard and made a thorough search of the premises. The only thing that was unopened was the piano, and it was in that instrument that the trophy lay hid. For months the undergraduates were under arms, ready at instant call to respond to a defense of the axe. The weapon is now carefully concealed in a hiding place known only to its guardian, who is a prominent athlete chosen by his predecessor annually. Only once a year is the precious trophy brought out into public gaze, and the Axe Rally has come to be the time of the greatest enthusiasm. The new custodian is appointed, the story of the axe is retold to a wondering college generation by some of the partic- ipators in the famous steal, and the football team is encouraged with the significant omen of victory, alumni and undergra duates vying with each other in patriotic speech and exhortation. Organized Enthusiasm The preparation of rallies has become a task important enough to delegate to certain leaders and committees. The rooters have been accustomed to elect a yell leader and his assistant to conduct the shouting operations of a thousand undergraduates. Another singing leader has been given the separate task of drilling the singing. In this connection prize contests have been held for several years for the best yells and songs (hat student originality could furnish. At the present date the training of this large body of rooters is as hard an undertaking as an undergraduate can take charge of. Besides the work of the Rooter Club, the rally leaders have the task of planning novel and interesting rallies, some on the bleachers, some in Harmon Gymnasium and some in the Greek Theater. These latter, at night, with the classic pile ablaze with pyro- technics, and the perfection of acoustics making music and speeches easily heard, have come to be a unique feature of a custom, which has reached as high a development at Berkeley as at any other college in the country. Reformed Charter Days Charter Day once stood for a terrible conglomeration of rough-and-tumble clashing among the lower classes, literary exercises so formal and dry that they encouraged somnolence, freak baseball games, and a closing dramatic treat by student actors. Time and chance have in recent years eliminated most of these features, and, at present, the older forms of Charter Day are traditional only. The rush may or may not take place. The same is true of the baseball game and of the theatrical event. Even the anniversary exercises have changed their tone, and, instead of a sleepy celebration, the day has come to be one looked forward to as bringing with it a stirring address by some leader in the educational advance of America. For pure show purposes the day has been improved in that the faculty must all turn out in the mingled somber and gay regalia of the academic gown and mortar-board. In passing, it may be said that the same two innovations have transformed our modern Commencement Day into something less of the bugbear that it used to be in the days gone by. The dramatic feature of Charter Day in past years has been the production of an eighteenth century play by a student cast. The idea originated with the late Professor Louis Du Pont Syle, who personally supervised the production of a number 30 Skull and Keys Running