University of Maine - Prism Yearbook (Orono, ME)

Page 24 text:

moustache on you and you went on stage with it! Best of luck ever. Drink to Maine, our Alma Mater, The college of our hearts always. . . . Your sister graduate today? My cousin. Hot . . . Terribly humid. It ' s 1 :30. The show gets on the road at 2:00, I think . . . Must be 90 above. There ' s the class assembling on the mall. Look at the colors! . . . No, I don ' t know what any of them mean, either. Just something about what degrees they have and what colleges or departments they ' re in . . . They do look impres- sive, though, don ' t they? . . . Look at that park- ing lot! More cars today than at the Homecom- ing game. . . . I ' m melting in this suit! . . . Traffic tie-up. Poor campus police have their hands full . . . Hi, Al, you lucky so and so. Don ' t be so smug, you ' ll miss it all next year when you have to go out and work for a living. . . . Who ' s salutatorian? No kidding, 3.9? And I ' m so happy with my 2.5 . . . We ' d better go in and find a seat . . . Wow, isn ' t this place packed! We ' ll swelter! . . . What smells so good? Oh, the fir boughs decorating the platform . . . Can you see all right from here? . . . Everyone ' s quieting down. It ' s about to start. What ' s the organ playing? March Celebre? National Anthem — stand up. Pheew, it ' s hot . . . When will those speeches end? I wish they ' d just confer the diplomas and get it over with. They must be sweltering in those gowns. . . . Look at them smile when they get that diploma. Ya, I guess I ' ll miss the old place, too, Zeke handed over the reiii». A Doe listens in. when it ' s all over. Come to think of it, I dread the idea that I ' ll be going through registration for the last time next February. Funny, isn ' t it? . . . I mean, we ' ve always hated those lines and con- ferences . . . Oh, well, one more stepping stone and all that. . . . Ya, the ROTC boys wear their uniforms to get their commissions. I hope it isn ' t this hot next year . . . those uniforms are heavy . . . Well, it ' s all over for them. Four years go fast . . . you feel kinda sad? Ya, me too. Perk up, old girl, we ' ve yet another year to drink to Maine, our alma mater. Come on, I ' ll drive you into town. To the trees, to the sky. To the spring in its glorious happiness . . . . . . The spring rather creeps up on the cam- pus. In March the air starts to smell sweet and young again, but there ' s still slush underfoot and it rains so often. But when April comes most of the slush gets grey, dirt-streaked, and disap-

Page 23 text:

Drink to Maine, our Almo Mofer, The college of our hearts always. 1 r f ' ' -r ,1

Page 25 text:

To the irees, fo fhe sky ! 31, ,- ». . ■i; . ? '