Iowa Wesleyan College - Croaker Yearbook (Mount Pleasant, IA)

Page 186 text:

THE 1919 CROAKER HAS BEENS Prologue Gone but not forgotten Says the old, old stall. But the students think it’s rotten, That it’s gone at all. Canto I There was a bell which used to ring, To classes it did call. The students they did gaily sing, As it rang for one and all. But says someone, “Be up-to-date, Cut out the campus bell, The students may be rather late, But then we can’t yet tell. So electric bells arc ringing; That is—when they do not shirk, But the students are not singing As they’re rushing late to work. Still we love to hear the message, From the ancient campus bell, After our athletic games Saying everything went well. Canto II There was a man who used to sing Spring and summer, winter, fall, All his gang he used to bring And serenade at Hershey Hall. All the co-eds used to answer, Clapping hands and with a smile, As the stalwart youths did carol Popular songs all the while. But says someone, “Be good mannered, Do not so applaud.” The serenaders, at no answer, Merely said, “My Gawd”. Still the stalwart youth is singing, But doesn’t serenade the Hall. Songs of wonderment he’s bringing, That there arc co-eds at all.

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THE 1919 CROAKER May and Dick Make us sick With their fussing And discussing. This poem was contributed by a Freshman who is not very observant—as anyone could sec by the accompanying picture. Hope the parties concerned will accept apologies for this little limerick. However, there is no need to worry because as every one knows, there is no truth whatever in the verse—although “The course of true love never runs smoothly”. This is the exception that proves the rule. Aren’t Freshmen green? They never do see anything! ABOUT THE CROAKER OFFICE Not Found Found Typewriter Blank Copy Paper Snapshots Profanity A Yale Lock Deficit Gray Hairs Optimism Ambition Excess Profits Tax-Seniors Most of the Juniors Efficiency Neatness Miss Barber: “Do you understand that, Mr. Snider?” Snider: “Yes, ma’am.” Miss Barber: “Then the rest of the class does.” Poetical Lines Found in Pontius’ Pocket The Devil makes the wicked wind, To bloiv our skirts knee high; But heaven kindly sends the dust. To fill the bad boy’s eye. She: “Ouch! I’ve bitten my tongue. He: “How I envy you!”

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CROAKER THE 1919 U' ■i