Princeton University - Nassau Herald Yearbook (Princeton, NJ)

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20 . THE NASSA-U HERALD. bravery. He claims by his courage to have saved more human lives than any other man in college. We believe it, and wish to place a few cases on record. How, in Fresh. year, when an infuriated mob of three Freshmen Qabout the size of ' Pretty J ack- sonj, returning from a horn-spree, .were about to demolish Mat. Goldie, Massie crawled boldly into the shadow of the Qbserva- tory and cried, Oh, Mr. Goldie, we're just going home. Come on, fellowsf, That, Massie, was indeed a noble act, but you outdid yourself when you led us toward the Junction, fi. e., as far as the canal. p There, I unfortunately, you heard that' the Freshmen Qwhom we were afterj were 'big fellows, were ready for us, were armed with thosepodious things called clubs, and those hateful things known as pistols, and that you would make pa splendid target. Was it nervousness ? Why did you seek the rear, and beg-the boys to do nothing rash? When at the Junc- tion you sawthe mighty Caesar Augustus Rodney Subathoo India 'Janvier prancing around, blood in his eye, murder in his heart, bad words on his lips, and his hands full of stones, you fled- no, not fled-you retreated hastily, .crawled under the platform at the freight depot, and were induced to' come out about five hours after the Freshmen had gone. Those Freshmen undoubt- edly owe their lives to you alone, for had you only led us on we would have settled their cases, but without you we were power- less. 1 Then, again, only this Winter you saw how we all suffered from the 'college choir, of which Beasley was the arch-fiend. You pitied us, and avenged our woes on Beasley. Not that you loved Beasley less, but that you loved us a hea.p more. Let us hope that he is now suffering some little of the misery he once inflicted upon us. In fact, we all owe our lives to you. Wfere these the days of chivalry we might knight you, we might even dub you a Chief of the Noble Order of D. F.'s 5 but those days are past, so you, ll have to content yourself with the lite-saving medal of the Humane Society, for having on so many ocousioiis taken such great care of the life of David M. Massie. While we're on these melancholy tnemes you might as well seo t GIST BLAIR. Those of you who have tears to shed will please hit hor up and

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THE NABSA U HERALD. 19 big, nice, heavy, fat crew was too absurd! The whole trouble was this: The Captain is a very gallant man. Close be- hind the boats at the start was a tug crowded with ladies. It was a very slow tug, and the boats were rapidly leaving it. Cf course the Captain was too polite to deprive the ladies of a view of the race, and to leave such a crowd of females alone and un- protected. For thoughts of pirates twith which the Schuylkill -swarmsQ,lvisions of distressed damsels sold into slavery to the barbarous Turks, rushed over him. He stopped, waited for the tug, and gallantly escorted it to a place of safety. That day not a woman was lost, kidnapped or stolen 5 not a pirate dared show his head. Thus,politeness.won the day, but Pennsylvania won the race. Yet had Mac acted differently, he knew we never Would have forgiven him. This year I am happy to state that a very fast tug has been engaged for the occasion, and it will start ahead of the boats at the' rate of armile a minute, and-well, we shall see what we shall' see. In the meantime, take these me- mentoes., Now here's a Captain who hasn' t been so generally noted for his politeness, at least not until a.fter that day when he stalked into the library with his hat pulled down over his ears, and was asked by the sweetly-smiling chief librarian if he were not from the West ?', Judge, expecting some grand compliment, proudly answered that he was. Then to his amazement the librarian only said, Ah! I thought so. Gentlemen from the East take off their hats in a place like this. That hat came oil, and Judge, thoroughly disgusted, hurried out of the library, vowing he would never go there again. Since then things have changed wonderfully. I know not how it came about, but now Judge spends all his time in and around the library, and takes off his hat as soon as he comes in sight of that building. Indeed, Judge, you've greatly improved, and all you need now, to enable you to reach perfection, is to diligently peruse this little book, whose title, in some parts of the West, is pronounced etteek, and in other parts ettfilcettee-call it what you please, only read it. This is the great Massie-a real Ohio man. Not only do we all love him for that, but we admire also his reckless, dare-devil

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NIE Nfissfi U HERALD. 21 prepare to shed them now, while Grist ambles up to the front. You all do know this--suppose we say garment. You do not? WVhy, it belonged to Banks, one of our ,old Scientifs 5 the fresh- rest man I ever saw. I remember the last time ever Banks put it on. 'Twas on an Autumn evening in Fresh. year, in his room. That night he and Grist Blair led a little band of Freshmen to the Prep. ,school to steal ducks. They had so much fun. When they started it was very dark and cold, then it soon began to rain. Things got funnier every minute. , They couldn't find the ducks 5 but Banks soon found a sort of an old sewer, 11. e., 'he found himself standing up to his neck in it., I-Iis, friends dragged him out, made him keep to the windward of them, and went to see if they could steal a pig or a cow 'g but the pig -made so much noise, and the cow looked so fierce, that they gave it up. Then it was decided to take every chicken on the place. Before this little plan was fully carried out, Banks yelled that -some one was coming, threw off his hat and coat and ran across a ploughed field toward Kingston, closely followed by Grist, who had a chicken under his arm. The others, with more chickens, -soon overtook Grist, and came back to Princeton, where next day 'fSundayj they had a feast. Sweet, sad memories-such as those bilious young orators this morning told you ,clung around dear old North, and the dear old cannon, and Jim Gralbraith, and things in that line-such memories, I say, clung around those -six ancient hens, for in this land of old tough chickens they were the oldest of the old, the toughest of the tough. Take this, Gist, a memento of your .skillful generalship, of our poor .scared friend, ofthe avalanche 'of fun weihad that night. Whether the sweet-scented, coatless Banks isistill running, I know not, but as I haven't seen him since, I suppose he is. Yet, that you may not mistake him for . ' MORDECAI, THE WANDERING JEW, . fthe exile from Manhattan Beach, I' will show you that gentle- man. This is Mordecai--a great man, an editor, a great editor, -editor of the Clippings in The Pfincetonian. ' I believe it 'was Aristotle, or Sam I-Iilliard, or 'Ben Vaughn , or some of that -crowd, who once said, The pen is mightier than the sword 5