Illinois State Normal University - Index Yearbook (Normal, IL)

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'Gbe llnbeg 23 the year, the results of which are, the Wrightonians--thanks to the young ladies-stand victorious in basket-ball, the Philadelphians in football. Our reveries are wont to take us back through the dimness of time to the fall of '92, Through the gray light of these intervening years familiar visions appear and disappear before my sight. Five successive times I see the picked champions of the orange and black leave camp and advance to the attack. Five successive times I see them return routed, with banner trailing in the dust. The sixth time they advance, noble warriors they are with determination stamped on every brow, afar off they meetg the fray begins Deep voices of wisdom long fill the air and above all, are softly wafted back sweet strains of music. The rhythmical voices steadily rise and fall and iinally subsideg the music subtly swells, long reverberates, and finally diminishes until it is no more, and all is silence. Plzilaclelphia, the champion of the day! The inter-society contest has been won. But look you, the enemy's ranks are forming. Two points are we ahead but two contests behind. Philadelphians, gaze full at your bannerfimlla excellentia est sine labord' and then cogitate, lonbomte, Uivzcite-plan, labor, conquer--for Philadelphia in the fall of '98 W. J. P. '-'-fili -?1iug-r53lf1J11--5f:iWi- xx1l1.u::i:a V 51 Tir 46 --ui 'in E x . XV iw ' 1 Ng F: , I I 2 Nr -.. r W in ' Q Wg X Q a, M Q - Qfff-santa-5.19721-sw. .- -Q 'viii -as 2-nixasxxgiosxgqx-nz--1-:gg -1.-111-1:20--ocgip' gjz- -mi: U ,nr-Bzxx ,Jn in--f0:r1Ix

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the Tlnbeg PHILADELFHIAN HALL

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24 the llnoeg THIRTYSSEVENTH ANNHALZW INTER-SQCIETY Gomrcsrzw wi-N wtgijj7 is extremely uncertain to say the least. Fortuna is fickle indeed, yet pf 5 We are all at her mercy. Especially is she capricious when embodied in the form of six judges deciding our fate in the Inter-Society Contest. We QQ, work and fight, swear by our society, hold secret meetings, sit in solemn f judgment over half a dozen aspirants for the same honor, deceive our friends on the other side, spy in the enemy's camp, perhaps, cry.a little because the society we love so well fails to appreciate our ability in speaking pieces, run a candidate because he 's running us, goad our contestants on to the verge of nervous prostration, and so on indefinitely through three desperate feverish months. And then arrives the fateful night. Fortuna turns the wheel, and the society drawing the blank concludes the judges to be old fogies unacquainted with their business and goes off to wax eloquent over chicken salad and the wonders to be accomplished next year. The contest of '97 started in with every show of great earnestness. We all remem- ber that little melee in the drawing-room that eventful noon when we accused each other of being guilty of the crime for which Ananias and Sapphira suffered death, and ugly names and expletives were as thick as peanuts at a circus. Isn't it thrilling! a fair- haired girl remarked from the top of an art bench where she had taken refuge. 4'Isn't it thrilling! Makes me think of those terrible riots you read about I And she swung her feet in ecstacy. The fight over, we began to flaunt our sure things, our winners in the face' of the enemy. We hurried our contestants off to mysterious and wonderful trainers living in foreign parts QBloomingtonj, discovered books for our debators containing valueless in-