Cumberland University - Phoenix Yearbook (Lebanon, TN)

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The Faculty at ttie Jud;§ment Bar THE Phoenix sat on the bench in the gloomy silence of a vast judgment hall. My dream pictured to me his great wings outstretched, a bird of gigantic size, such that under the shadow of one broad pinion, were seated with blanched faces, every member of that august body, the Facility of the School of Liberal Arts. Beneath the other wing were the shades of those who had gone before, apparently brought forth to make even more gruesome the prospect before the trembling: Faculty. And where was I? O, I was among the unlimited throng that formed the audience, gathered together to witness the fate of those to be judged, an assembly made up chiefly of busted college students and pseudo-alumni. Now that all seemed to be ready, a name, followed by a string of degrees and titles, like the tail of a boy ' s kite, was called, and forth stepped Dean Buchanan. Dean Buchanan, spake the Phcenix, you are to answer to the charge of having led the singing on a certain Thursday morning, and it is reported that you led it into — well, I won ' t say right here. Have you any- thing to offer as a defense? A — a — a — guilty, was the confused reply of the Dean, and then under his breath, If I had only learned to sing in Prep! But I noticed a twinkle in the goggle eye of the overshadowing bird. There- upon he requested the Dean to sing. The effort sent echoes from cavern to cavern and made me shudder till I shook the hard bench on which I sat. The test was over, and with a voice of kindness and softened with admiration, the Phoenix dismissed him, saying, If a daily journey in the Master ' s foot- steps, and an unswe rving loyalty to old Cumberland through thick and thin, isn ' t a whole life of song, then I have missed my cue. Professor McLaughlin, it is recorded that you were accustomed to say some pretty hard things about the ' silly minded freshman! ' ejaculated the bird, in a voice midway between the scream of an eagle, and the first effort of a spring fryer to awake sleeping humanity. As the man of classics arose he seemed to be in a dream and was heard to murmur, Why do goats eat tin cans? Suddenly collecting his senses he hastened to explain, I — I — got that from a Sophomore. The Phoenix gave a desperate flop to regain his balance, for he was not exactly prepared for such a turn of affairs, but managed to say, Should a burning desire to derive the best teaching, the best thought, from the dead past and instill it into the min ds and hearts of true American youth be offset by one misquotation? Why, of course not. Then abruptly he called: Professor Weir! Do you remember of having said that ' education is a cure for all things? ' Yes. WeU, the Seniors deny that it cures the habit of talking around the radiator in the hall. No, no! answered the professor. They have made a mistake in the premises. Don ' t you see that the faster they are educated, and graduated, the sooner they will quit it? The Phoenix all but turned a somersault for joy, quite unbecoming to a judge. I told you so, he vociferated. It would take more than a Senior to fool Professor Weir. He hasn ' t made a life study of the human mind for nothing. When you get ahead of him you will have to sleep with one eye open, and get up before the mocking-bird. But this exultant look was followed by one of great seriousness and grave apprehension as he called out the name of Professor Rice. Before going into the details of this awful charge, my poor professor, let me offer you my 19