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Page 82 text:
EXASPERATION. And now that autumn ' s come again With its winds that wildly sweep, And its fallen leaves so bi ' own and sere That beside the roadways heap. The Junior doth his great coat don, And taking up his cane, Up the Botanic path he toils, With sighs and groans of pain. But when in Sammy ' s room he sits. He stares with vacant eye. Or else some playful deviltry Is planning on the sly. Perhaps some novel slyly hid Helps pass the time away, Or he may chance to study up On lessons for next day. A sudden start; his name is called; His dreams all rudely break. And all at once he ' s wondering How big a flunk he ' ll make. Er — well — er — yes the soil is light, And sometimes heavy too. And — well — I think the fact is, that Most any soil will do. (54)
Page 81 text:
THE INDEX. 53 Thayer, and there we saw over eighty thousand dollars ' worth of about the ugliest looking dogs that it will fall to the human lot to see in so short a time. After listening to a small pandemonium for fifteen or twenty minutes, we came to the conclusion that " too much dog is worse than no dog at all. " Re-embarking, we drove to Mr. Thayer ' s stable, and thence to the farms of Mr. Hawkins and Mr. Damon. The latter gentleman is an alumnus of M. A. C, and showed his patriotism by bringing out about half a bushel of pears and grapes for our regalement. Coming down the hill by the " Lancaster Gingham Mills, " in Clinton, the bolt, which held the tongue to the barge, broke, and we were obliged to stop and dismount to see what could be done. Somebody ex- claimed, " If we only had one of those bolts that we used to get on ' Tabby, ' we should be all right. " Further observation disclosed the fact that we were on Chestnut Street. Well ! in a few minutes a bolt was obtained, the pole fixed, and on we went, and after a short drive farther we came to the South Clinton station, where we alighted and dismissed the barge and our genial driver and footman with a ringing yell. When we had boarded the train once more for Boston, we began to make ourselves decidedly at home, and when the conductor came to collect our fares we plied him with questions until he was fain to consign all student kind in general, and ' ' Aggie " students in particular, to misery unspeakable. Finally our journey drew towards its end, and somebody expressed a fear lest the train might not stop at Boston, but at last the Pilgrim City was reached, and we separated to go in different directions to spend the night. Thursday afternoon the majority of our class visited various places of inter- est in the suburbs, notably the new green-houses of Hittenger Brothers in Bel- mont, and the farm of W. W. Rawson in Arlington. Friday at 10.30 we were required to meet Prof. Fernald at the Aggassiz Museum at Cambridge, and when again at liberty we visited the Hemenway G-ymnasium and other build- ings of Harvard University, and returned to Boston at about noon. If space were unlimited, we would go on to relate how " Jim " Gregory and " Billy " Goldthwait, after vainly trying to walk through a mirror, past their own reflections, at last gave it up, but politely lifted their hats to the image of a young lady whom they thought they recognized. Moreover it would be very irreverent to our e. c. ' 90 to give it away that " Jack " ran against a lamp post and exclaimed, " excuse me, madam. " But everything must have an end, and on Saturday nearly all the fellows came back to Amherst, leaving only a small minority to come back Sunday, and we think that all will agree that the trip to the " Hub " was a very pleas- ant change from the routine of the class room.
Page 83 text:
THE INDEX. Is the crop early or late ? Well — I can hardly say. I think it ' s late, but then I guess You can grow it either way. The profit ? Then he names a price That would riches quickly bring. Not quite so much, the Prof, replies, Just half would be the thing. At every question asked of him, A plucky guess he ' ll make; Both pleased and happy will he be Should his answer chance to take. And so it goes from day to day, No lessons perfect said ; Each fellow with gigantic gall Depends on Fortune ' s aid. But when the day of reckoning comes. Their marks at last they see ; We fear that some unlucky guessers In the tureen will be.
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