Elon University - Phi Psi Cli Yearbook (Elon, NC)

Page 29 text:

— ,-. ,

Page 28 text:

The Senior Class Poem When we first went, to public school We thought we knew a lot, And if we ever broke a rule, Ah! well, we knew it not. ' Twas then we were barefoot, boys and girls, And then there came that joyful day We lived a life of pleasure When we set off for college. Where days were months and homes were worlds We thought we ' d rather work than play, And all our time was leisure. In order to gain knowledge. Our verdant Freshman year has come And we are learning fast. We often let our fancy roam To the Senior year at last. We spent much time upon our books At last another year has passed. In our happy Freshman days. Ah! we are Sophomores sure. We longed to have a Senior ' s looks Study, a little, but always sure And art a Senior ' s ways. To be a little more mature. And now our Junior year is lure. For time is flying fast. Twelve months is not as long a year As it seemed year before last. We are beginning now to come Another year has come and passed, Heir to some common knowledge. We ' ve reached our goal, you see. We want to know what folks at home At last! At last!! At last!!! At last!!!! Think of our going to college. Ah! Lordly Seniors, we. Ah, yes, indeed, we ' ve come to know- That we now have less knowledge Than we thought we had four years ago When we first entered college. We know our textbooks, yea, ' tis true, So, if we always do our best, But that is just beginning. ( ' Tis all that one can ask), We now must show ourselves true blue; Our little work, not for the rest, The battles of life need winning. Must be our only task. Poet.

Page 30 text:

Senior Prophecy ' Twas a first Sunday. An acquaintance of Elon College knows what that means. For the benefit of others, however, let me add that on those days the fair co-eds of Elon are at liberty to exercise all the feminine wishes and caprices at their command, from three to five in the afternoon. Was I unfortunate? Anyway no card bearing Miss Fogleman made its appearance. Disappointed, heartsick, I groped my way to a nearby wood, through which rippled a clear, sparkling brook. Seated on a large rock, while unconsciously humming O Lovely Dream, I carelessly tossed a stone into the water. The richest, fullest, most beautiful melody reached my cars, Oh, maid in despair, If you but care To hear, while you ' re alone, The prophecy of the Senior Class Just look under each stone. Obeying the impulse, I looked about me. What could lie more remarkable? There were twelve old stones arranged in a graceful group. On picking up the one nearest me a tiny elf hopped to his feet. One of your classmates has shown some ability this year as an editor, piped a little voice. His capabilities are as yet unde- veloped. Still, just a few short years, and Hook will dazzle the minds of his friends by putting out a periodical far eclipsing the Literary Digest. The second little body, a counterpart of the first, said: Janie Lee Beale, the musician of your class, on July 14, 1918, will return to her native State. She will have studied music under the very best teachers in Germany. Her study will be trying, and instead of the Janie Lee you have known, her friends will find her much smaller, somewhat stooped — a nervous wreck. Of course this made me sad. My expression changed, and the change was noticed. The little figure continued, Your classmate ' s health will return, however, and she will render her Alma Mater valuable service by drumming the rudiments of vocal and instrumental music into the brains of the bone- heads she will gather there from over the South. The third little fellow began, One of your classmates has a bright future before him. He is a g 1 student and one of Elon ' s best athletes. Yet his greatness will depend neither upon literary nor athletic achievements. The whole nation will one day be astounded when he shows his ability as a singing evangelist. In fact Rand is going to figure largely in a spiritual revolution, which will sweep over America ten years hence. Picking up the next stone the fourth elf blurted out, Viola Frazier, the very willing mail carrier, will, a few years after leaving school, set her affectionate heart upon a long, lean, lank school teacher, and the two will wed and live happily ever after. A boarding school will be conducted by the two, in the Valley of Virginia. Here ' s hoping Viola won ' t lie a Mrs. Squeer, thought I. The fifth figure was much awake and rattled off, The sleeping divine is going to wake up, stretch, rub his eyes, and will find to his surprise that instead of being called