Mount Vernon Seminary - Cupola Yearbook (Washington, DC)

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Wherewith to make his rolls presentable. When Qesar died, O woeful was the day — He handed to his friend a “pickled lime,” To Brutus — and his ghost returned and slew The rest — so all were corpses on the field. “Oh, we have seen the Junior players, one and all; You Qesar, Portia, Brutus, and Mark Antony, The t-r-i-u-m-v-i-r-a-t-e, And listened to the plots of the conspirators, And listened to the plots of the conspirators. Praising, praising, we were only praising you; Praising, praising, just to see what you would do. We ' ve heard the wail of the “petite Calpurnia, We’ve heard the clear meowing of great Caesar ' s cat. We ' ve seen the blinking and the shining “Coudou moon And we have listened to Caruso ' s final note. And we have listened to Caruso’s final note, (Change tune to “Battle Hymn of the Republic ) “Here lies your glory in the gore of Caesar ' s blood. Here lies your glory in the gore of Caesar’s blood, Oh, we ' re mighty proud of you, Ta-ta, ta-ta, ta-ta, ta-ta, And here ' s to Nineteen Twelve. ( Tunc — Pot-Pouri ) The Sophomore ' s showed their talent in a play, ' Twas called “The Burglar. Do the shivers run All up and down your spine? Oh, tremble not! The “Burglar proved — just Mrs. Somers ' cat. “Oh. I wish 1 had my Charlie, Oh, I wish I had my Jack, Cried the girls in the Burton Cottage. ' Twas only a man they lacked. 21

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Chorus — “Senior Class, most of all we re thankful Senior Class, for the things we’ve had to eat; Senior Class, most of all we’re thankfu l, Most of all we re thankful for the things we’ve had to eat. As time went one, another class was formed. Our sister Class, with Teddy at their head; We welcomed them, and launched them on their way. “One day a Class of Sophomores was formed, With resolutions to he our friends; We are united in spirit and friendship, To stand by them always — be loyal and true. Chorus — Nineteen thirteen — Here’s to our Sister Class; Nineteen thirteen — ith Teddy you’re sure to surpass. “Oh, me! Oh, me!” So says the Junior Class; But they don’t count, You will surmount — One. nine, one, three. ” ( Tunc — One, Two, Three, Four) The Juniors gave a doleful tragedy — A drama from the mighty Shakespeare’s pen; Though tears should flow at such a sad affair, We laughed instead — perversity of Fate! Or eat Caesar died because his cat would howl, Calpurnia besought her lord in vain ; To stay at home because she had no starch 20

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Yal had the shotgun pointed, While the others trembling sat; They heard a noise in the kitchen, Then Freda brought in the cat. Chorus — “Oh, we ' ve come to sing your praises. And to thank you for the way You gave to us last evening, Your clever, charming play. Then o ' er our History comes a gloomy cloud — The Color Contest. Oh ! we sadly weep. To call up such sad memories. I would shrink To put these words on paper, but the thought That “E ' en the best do sometimes make mistakes” Consoles me. So 1 tell you this sad tale. The tin box smuggled into Senior House, The telegrams, the packages, the hints. Were false, and we were baffled in the end: But just to show von how we would have sung If we had been victorious — listen now: “Try, try, keep on a-trving, Buy, keep on a -buying ; Early in the morning, late at night. All your strength and spirit, In the mighty fight. Pry, pry, keep on a-prying, Spy, spy, keep on a-spying, But we found you at last. Oh, we’ve guessed your color, Oh, we’ve guessed your color, Oh, we’ve guessed your color, Junior Class.” ( Tunc — “Cubanola Glide ) 22