Bryn Mawr College - Bryn Mawr Yearbook (Bryn Mawr, PA)

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THE BOOK OF THE CLASS OF NINETEEN-THIRTEEN 19 But what is this? Three swords! Hey, Pickle Herring, Blue Breeches, Pepper Breeches — do you ask me what I see?! — Marry, three fools — e ' en as we ' Twere wiser a good fool to be Than such fake wise men as ye three. Oh, kill me not, you — my three sons — I your poor old father! Well, if I must die, I must die. But, aye, when wisdom comes from Folly, it is time to die. And being dead, I can write no more. Lucile Shadburn.

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18 THE BOOK OF THE CLASS OF NINETEEN-THIRTEEN as Seen bv the jfool T ' S hot, of course, for this is May Day : and look now at that long line twisting and I winding — a thread of lively revelers. They are waiting to be made up — to have a touch of rouge, a long, white beard, or perhaps be given a jeweled crown and gilded sceptre. Here they come no longer students, for just see the fiery dragon and oh — he! he! — the Cupids. I loved my bells and little Beppo, the donkey which was so slow. I had to punch him repeatedly with my bauble. The procession outside of Pembroke Arch started: it moved : it seemed to thrill with a new thrill of life. But come, it moves too slowly ! Shall I not ride the hobby-horse? Whoa, there!! Marry, but there ' s old Father Time crossing the cloister green. A pity such hoary locks should fall around so young a face — and his elastic walk belies the rounded shoulders. Ah, Tempus fugit. Here rides Bacchus along- side. The leathern bottle is still full, but will not be long. That face too belies the part. One day the part will be a more Christian one. Now, Hobby, stay, by my halidome! A pretty face and queen of the dancers! How the cloister is crowded! Whether in the world or B. M. C, Such dancers are a thing to see. Oh Tira lee, tra-la. There, I declare, Hobby, hold up, or we will be running down the Merrymen — or by that rider on the grey horse be run down ourselves: I ' d sworn it was a man for sure But that the wig was insecure ! Hey diddle, good merry men. I cannot tarry with you. I must run and fool them wisely for the play ' s begun!

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20 THE BOOK OF THE CLASS OF NINETEEN-THIRTEEN ifrealjman €la Puppet FRESHMAN Class Supper— it was ages ago, but it happened. I remember thinking about it days beforehand, and flocks of flaming red chanticleers kept me awake after- wards thinking about it, so it must have happened. It was in the spring of 1910 when the dogwood was in blossom and Polecon quizzes were budding. That was when it happened, and where it happened was in Pembroke dining room — the walls were disguised with class banners, dogwood and upper classmen. How it happened I am not quite sure. We all marched in dressed in our best, and then cheering began — upper classmen cheered, others cheered, we cheered and Schmidt and Matlack cheered; at least, I suppose they did, and it was the best and biggest gathering of the class the whole year. That was just what we wanted, so we were not too generous about letting the upper classmen stay to enjoy our fun, and after M. Blaine gave us a toast to Class Songs and we showed them what cocky stunts we could do when we tried, we sang them out politely but firmly. Then we all grew ten years younger, and with every one in a good humor it would have been the best time in the world to have discussed some weighty question, but we were not there for that and besides K. Stout and Jessie would have had words about it, as I remember they did have a pitched battle over the election of The Keeper of The Class Animal. Poor old bird, he must be old enough now to take care of himself, but in those days he was dreadfully flighty and cocky and always making breaks. Don ' t you remember Zelda told us all about the trouble he had made for us with his breaks. Gyrls, I would rather live a thousand years, than bow down and worship a rooster, she said when he was nominated for our pet, in opposition to enough salamanders, flamingoes and potato bugs to start a nightmare. But that is another story and we are now in the midst of class supper. Iki Irwin is talking now, Iki is working herself off the blacklist with one period of talking. La, la, la, Iki, you silly ass, what are you doing there? didn ' t I hear Miss Applebee say, but it must have been during May Day rehearsal when Iki had that part given to her. May Day — that reminds me of a toast. Clara Crocker gave us an impromptu one — from the back of her fan. It was an important subject just about then. Mr. King told