Loyola University Maryland - Evergreen / Green and Gray Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

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THE LOYOLA ANNUAL 5 C e Romance of a Carts Ca e. F atty, be it known, was a college student. College had just opened for the first term, and Fatty was about to enter into all the glory of his sophomore year. Last year he had not been able to assimilate much of the city life, as the mighty sophomores kept him under their watchful guardianship. Now all was different. Fatty was no longer the poor, down-trodden freshman; his year of sack- cloth and ashes, and humble submission, was over. Now Fatty, as you may have guessed from his cognomen, was inclined to breadth, rather than height; despite this fact, determined to celebrate his em ancipation, he went to his tailor and ordered a suit of the loudest check pattern that could be found. At last after many v eary days of waiting and telephoning, the suit arrived. It was a most beautiful day and Fatty determined to make the most of it. Some people thought that it was a brass band approaching, but no, it was only Fatty arrayed in his nev7 suit. With a straw hat, encircled by a bright red band, tilted most rakishly over one eye, there could be no doubt as to the upper part of his attire; then came his green shirt.

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4 THE LOYOLA ANNUAL present to the world the character of Uncle Remus.” Says a contemporary writer: “ It is certain that the creation (Uncle Remus) of Joel Chandler Harris has attained a permanent place among the immortal ‘ real folks ’ in literature.” And Mr. Andrev Carnegie tells us: “Joel Chandler Harris has given a helping hand to all the world. He has won the hearts of all the children, and that’s glory enough for one man 1” As perhaps our best delineator of the plantation darky, as the kindly, humorous author, the friend, not only of children, but of all who can appreciate true wit and humor, Joel Chand- ler Harris will long find a resting place in the hearts of the American people. John H. T. Briscoe, ’10.

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6 THE LOYOLA ANNUAL the pride of his collection and carefully saved for this occa- sion ; in pleasant contrast his pink and green tie next asserted itself, its broad ends permitted to flow with a studied care- lessness. Then came the suit proper, so to speak, and last but not least that hosiery display. They were red, there could be no doubt as to that, and such red — well, I won’t try to tell you anything further than that they were red. Fatty strolled nonchalantly down the street, and not deign- ing to notice the many sighs of admiration that came from the campus fence, pursued his solitary way. No admira- tion from the male population however great, could suffi- ciently compensate Fatty for his artistic efforts. Beau Brummel in his prime could not have walked on the same side of the street with Fatty to-day. Yes, Fatty had decided that female admiration must be his, and so he headed for the Boulevard. Boarding an F Street car, he sat down with the greatest pains, and then with a majestic slowness pro- ceeded to expose an immense amount of red socks. It was only when he handed the open-mouthed conductor his fare, that he became conscious of the fact that there was a very pretty young lady sitting opposite him. Immediately he be- gan to endeavor to charm the young lady. First he tried a smile, but strange to say it had no effect. Next the smile was coupled with a nod; still the fair damsel refused to be charmed. So, after many smiles and furtive nods. Fatty gave up in despair. At length the female attraction reached her des- tination and alighted from the car to pass, as it seemed, from the vision of tender-hearted Fatty, to be seen no more. The seat just vacated happened to be a choice one, so after strain- ing his neck to see the last of his soul-mate. Fatty moved over. Other girls came in, saw, and were conquered by the in- imitable Fatty; but no, our hero had eyes for none of them, for he was sad, sad with the sadness like unto a toothache.