Princeton University - Nassau Herald Yearbook (Princeton, NJ)

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24 THE NASSAU HERALD. Magie-Donlt seem to fill the bill, but longs for a chance to display his manly courage. D I Cupid-Pierces each heart with a tiny arrow Qin Magiels place an exceptionally small one to escape pinning his heart to the back-bonej. SCENE II. Pier. The Diszfzmi Relative-Splashing and sputtering in' the lake and crying for help. Girl-VVeeping and wailing. Hero-Calmly removes hat and coat, arranges his cravat, runs to the pier and dives. I'd like to leave Magie hanging between earth and sky, but the truth must be told. Magie entered the water like a darning needle, but that was not all. The water was only eighteeninches deep, and the oozy mud was just laying for such marks, and received him with open arms. A derrick and a four-horse team extracted Magie from his perilous position, and with a low bow to the Distant Relative who, meanwhile, had calmly walked ashore, he went damply up to the hotel murmuring None but the brave deserve the fairf' Eddie Moore says he could have won her easier than that. Eddie's been stuck on himself ever since he won the Irish beauty at the Atlanta Exposition. He says that nothing catches the girls like a good joke, and every even- ing before he calls on his Witherspooii street fairy, he culls his choicest bits of humor from the libraiy of patent medicine almanacs, which his friends have so kindly aided him in collecting. Whenever I -hear Witherspoon street spoken of I always think of the time Jimpty Jessup attempted to scrape up an acquaintance with the belle of that region. She said papa did not permit her to go with students and asked him to wait for her at the gate. Jimpty waited. Oh, what a wait ! After freezing three toes and one ear, Wait- ing her return from the house, jimpty sneaked softly up the street, listening to her sweet soprano mingling with the bass notes of her stiddy in that painful little ditty, en- titled Forsaken.

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WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY ORATION. 2 3 was wrenched from its hinges. A horrible sight met their gaze. The room was strewn with manuscripts. Great volumes torn in fragments lay upon the floor. The pictures had started from their frames. All was confusion, chaos, and disorder. Ink was spattered on the wall paper and sprinkled over the open magazines on the table. Behind the scene of wreck and ruin stood the author of it, with dishevelled hair, a wild light of triumph in his eyes, his arm outstretched threateningly and murmuring the mysterious words 5' Cuba Libre ll' Cuba Libre V' Many were the questions asked and yet unanswered. After several pulls from Jake Beams' kindly black bottle, the hero Bob-Bob Sterling-told his story. Maybe you fellows think I'm as modest as Shorty Bowne, but Pm not. just read that telegram and then deny it doesn't pay to be a great debaterfl Jake took it -Jake has a habit of 'taking everything he sees, anyhow-and read: tt The Philadelphia Press would like your sentiments on the Cuban Questionfl The mystery was solved. But as he laid it down he saw a mistake had been made 5 it was addressed to Prof. Woodrow Wilson and not to Bob Sterling. Pointing to the address they departed. As the door closed, a dull, sickening thud was heard, and all was still. If Morley Hitzrot will wipe that everlasting smile from his face, and joe Ryle remove those towels from his pocket, I'll read one of David Garrick Cooley's Comedies. SCENE. Adirondacks, near a small lake. DRAMATIS PERsoNE. 1. HerovMagie, a lady's man. 2. Girl-A man's lady. 3. A Distant Relative of the Girl g weight 250 net. 4. Cupid with his bow and quiver. SCENE I. Piazza. Tha Girl-Coy, gurgling, girlish, talks of brave deeds and men of heroic mould.

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WASHINGTON7S BIRTHDAY ORATroN. 25 Chappie Reynolds would not have been taken in that easy, for he knows the ways of the girls, and besides being a ladies' man, is somewhat of a philosopher. Wlio ever heard words so full of thought as these? The only girl you will ever miss, Is the girl you have failed to kiss. Now go home and thi11k it over, - ' 1 When you grow dead sober. Thatls fine sentiment, Chappie, but it smells of beer. Now, Father Spencer lacks both a Chappie Reynolds philosophic brain and a Sherlock Holmes mind, for in Freshmen year he did not even know a beer saloon when he saw it,-and he from St. Louis, too. Father cautiously entered Bob Andersonls saloon one night and inquired if they sold beer. The barkeeper thought he was being jollied at first, but when Father asked how much it was, what kind he had, which was the cheapest, and whether he could buy a few bottles, the barkeeper saw he was young and tender. He sold him a few bottles of pop, telling him it was Tannhauser. After imbibing a little, Father made a welsh rarebit for a few of his friends. fl should say, were his friendsj Father also has the habit of getting despondent, and in examinations in Sophomore year was heard to mutter 1 'K I'm a blockhead. I canlt pass that paper. Ilm a dis- grace to my family 5 spending my father's money only to get dropped. I'm going homefl Strange to say, Father is with us yet. . just about this time in Sophomore year, Curly Grover learned to play poker and lost 55.00 on two pair of queens, which he held against three sevens. Ikenstein Reeves, of hock-shop fame, held the other hand. I promised Reeves I would not call him Ikey, but when I saw Curly could stay awake long enough to tell me this sad tale, I resolved to warn the innocent public. Porgy, Porgy, dake dose