Millersville University - Touchstone Yearbook (Millersville, PA)

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16 THE HAMMER. the cute little clears of nineteen five, six and ten play with them; all joyfully shouting: “We are the class of nineteen-three!” How we loved to see them go out and play with the Seniors; only they got hurt sometimes. Considered altogether, however, their pleasure was entirely harmless, besides being highly entertaining to us, not to say instructive; for many an illustrious example of rank immaturity did we witness, illustrating some pregnant psychological truth. Again the fountains played and the soloists sang of spring. The doctor trimmed his beard for summer, and by a peculiar unconscious acquisition of dignity, especially on the part of Swopie and Laurence, we intuitively knew that some great event was fast approaching; so that we were not at all surprised to find ourselves one beautiful June morning gazing into one another’s transfigured countenances with our hearts whispering to us that we indeed were not only in spirit, but in fact, Seniors. All that summer strange portentious omens and mysterious rumorings foretold a year of prodigies; and the fates foretold aright. Amid joyful acclamations we once more embrace the threshold of the ladies’ gate. Iiow we burned to unrein the pent-up energy of our teeming brains. We felt the untold joy of Seniors as we grasped the extended palms of the Profs and met the dazzling radiance of their joyful countenances. We felt within us a power, a force, a seething vitality unfelt before. How the hostile ranks of the Model School melted before our conquering arms! How we held them in servile submission, bordering upon absolute slavery, is now the property of general history. Before two moons had filled out their horns twice with silvery light, the halls of learning echoed and re-echoed with the fame of our intellectual achievements. The most reserved and conservative members of the faculty were heard expressing their impressions concerning us in most extravagant terms of commendation. Their enthusiasm knew no bounds. So sweeping and continued were our triumphs that had not our characters been exceptionally strong and modest, our brains had surely become addled. I have now come to that which cannot help but give pain to somebody. At quite an early period the class of nineteen-four,

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CLASS HISTORY. 15 quote a rather obscure passage from the diary of Caesar: “They came, we saw, we conquered!” and naughtv-three had been ushered into the presence of an admiring world. When again the swallows homeward flew, when the purple grapes hung in glistening clusters, the nodding corn whispered prophecies of golden plenty to one another, and Earth once more robed herself in gorgeous vestments of gold and crimson to go forth and meet her hoarv-headed lord, Time, found us again across the threshold of Minerva’s temple, deeply drinking from the ever-flowing fountain of learning. But, stay, what marvelous galaxy is this our amazed eyes confront? Do we dream, or is indeed this dazzling high school band that dazes us by its marvelous beauty, its daring wit, and boundless intellectual energy, a destined part of us? The gods, out of the fullness of their illimitable generosity, add this one more blessing to our already countless advantages. We welcome them with open arms; at least some of the sterner sex may have done so. Together with this new acquisition we gathered under our protecting wing the class of “naughty-two.” They had not yet attained to those higher spheres of advanced learning; they still laboriously toiled about the foot-hills; and we, catching now and then a glimpse of them through the cloud, were moved to pity by their painful struggles and extended down to them the hand of friendly encouragement, hoping to inspire and uplift them. Heaven knows what a dire, well-nigh futile struggle we had. Our consciences, however, thanks to our ardent exertions, are at rest; we did all possible to be done for them; but, alas! they would not! It was not in them. About this time Laurence, Grover and Horace discarded knickerbockers and took on the insignia of manhood. Right here I might take the opportunity to discuss the infinite amusement afforded us by the weird, peculiar antics of that body of human beings now popularly known as the class of “nineteen-four. Knowing the callow inexperience of these simple-hearted children, and knowing further their utter inability to cope with any semblance whatever of equality with our tried veterans, for their own benefit and instruction we let them enjoy themselves, playing their innocent little game of “naughty-three” unmolested. How joyously they skipped and played about the campus, letting

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CLASS HISTORY. 17 with a great display of forensic fireworks and a clumsy manipulation of dangerous verbal explosion, informed us that they thought that if we would let them take about fifteen of their best men to our seven, that probably we might please the Doctor and the girls by an exhibition of our relative physical capacities and prowess. In case we deemed the struggle unequal, they would add as many more as we desired. From this dated their ignominious downfall, and the bitter humiliations heaped upon that extremely unfortunate, ill-starred organization. Naturally we were much pained by this ungrateful attitude of a supposed friend, whom we had ever cared for, nurtured and protected as a mother would a child; and now that we should trample upon and mar the beauty of those once dear to us, the thought was unbearable. As the vision rose before us of the dear little “naughty-four” boys reeking with dust intermingled with gore, their neatly smoothed hair all disheveled, and their pretty noses awry; their loving mothers in tearful anguish o’er their shattered forms; their broken-hearted sweethearts—enough, I need but say our hearts were melted and bled at the thought of the awful calamity overhanging them. Happily, according to a custom which has ever been a peculiar characteristic of “naughty-four,” they only talked. Right upon this disgrace were heaped a series of others, sadder and more ignominious. With the habitual slowness of their class, they after deep and careful consideration and due deliberation finally determined to decide upon the class colors, flower, etc. Alas, they little dreamed what they were destined to contend with! Why did they pale with anguish and sit the picture of pathetic dismay when they beheld the Senior class filing into supper, each bearing upon his breast a significant little bow of black and gold? Ah, there was moaning and gnashing of teeth in the camp of the Philistine that night! One by one they crept hollow-eyed to bed, with hearts filled with the blackness of despair, ever moaning in accents parched and hoarse the pitiful refrain, “Too slow, too slow! After this cruel stroke of fortune the Middlers’ only complaint was to the effect that the Seniors were possessed of no class spirit whatever. But they forgot that it is unwise to presume on