Princeton University - Nassau Herald Yearbook (Princeton, NJ)

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Class Pvfophecy of a- shop with a To Let sign on it, and I could not repress a gurgle of joy when I took in what it said: -I .- - 'iDEBUTANTE's DELIGHT ! UCOME ON IN GIRLS, AND HAVE A TREAT. ll! NPAY TEN cENrs AT THE DOOR, AND YOU CAN LOOK AT Us AS LONG AS YOU PLEASEU SIGNED, HOWELL EoREEs, CHARLEY BAKER AND SAM BELL I felt that I had to-drop in and look the boys over, so I put on' a bored expression and relapsed into the one-step, thereby effectively disguising myself as a debutante, and thus got by the man at the door. There they were, the whole handsome three of them, stand- ing on a platform wrapped up in natty dress suits of the L. Kaplan variety, and looking like a snap-shot of the Debating Team before the kick-off. Well, well, Charleyf' I said to the Bull, Hhow are things ? Rotten! was his disconsolate come-back. The nearest thing to a compliment I've had all day was when one of the debutantes told me I was better looking than Howell. Howell grunted peevishly at this, and I ventured to inquire how it was that I-Ierb Richards wasn't helping them hold down the platformq They told me that he had been up to a week ago, but that they had kicked him out because he insisted on wearing a soft-oollar shirt with his dress coat. And then, added I-Iowell, contemptuously, he ran away and founded the A. B. C. , A, B. C., I mused, 'fit sounds familar, but what the deuce does it mean ? Auction Bridge Club, volunteered Sam, wafting a kiss ,to a particularly admiring debutante in the throng. You'll find it a few doors up, it's an organization for the sole purpose of playing Bridge perpetually, and its charter and only mem- f-9 'KJ

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The Nassau H emld joined Bob and me. I couldn't help asking him if this sort of thing wasn't rather unusual for a minister of the gospel, and Bob chimed in with some of the practice-what-you-preach stuff. Well, you see, explained Brick, I found that the only way I could write a good peppy sermon was to interview a couple of Tom Collinses first, and I say, if gin helps you to save souls, why up with souls and down with gin. I was about to comment on this rather ambiguous remark, when I was interrupted by an infernal clatter, apparently from the next door. Wierd wails and soul-tearing shrieks, to say nothing of hair-raising howls, followed each other in quick succession. Do you know what that is? asked Brick, in sepulchral tones. I took a chance. Rawleigh Warner and his quartette F I hazarded. ' Brick shook his head, and stopped to aim a kick at Irv Kingsford, who was going around the cafe selling photographs of himself. No, it's not as bad as that,', he answered, it's an asylum for the feeble-minded-one of those high-brows' bug-houses they used to show us in Social Economics. Let's go in and look over the bugsf' gurgled Bob enthusi- astically, l'Ild like to see old France Marling againf' Brick said that there was nobody in there that we knew except I-Ienny Norman. What! I exclaimed. Poor old Henny doing time in a padded cell? What's his trouble ? The sad story was swiftly told. It seems that I-Ienny had been pretty ill, and to keep him alive, they had been obliged to feed him 'on bread and' water for three weeks. When he came to and found that for three weeks he'd had nothing to drink but water, the shock was too much for his Southern system, and from that day he'd never been the same. I left Bob and Brick to look the place over, and wandered down the street alone. I hadn't gone far when a glaring red and black sign caught my eye. It was hanging in the window 22 .

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.The Nassau Hera-ld bers are Herb Richards, Truman Handy, Sam Markham and Mic McKee. I made haste up the street, and soon spotted the A. B. C. It was quite an imposing edifice: there was a beautiful carved shield over the door, with the arms of the organization on it. It consisted of an Ace of Spades rampant, on a field of Lilies, and below was a Queen of Hearts, couchant, on a field of cactus. She looked awfully uncomfortable. Surmounting it was the motto Sine Ponte, moremus , which means, Witli- out Bridge, leave us croak . I passed through the door into what I suppose was the main club-room. There was a table in the center, and the four of them were sitting around it,-Markham, Handy, Richards and McKee-each with a fist full of cards, and apparently quite oblivious of the fact that there was a month's dust on them- selves and the rest of the furniture. I sneaked up to the waiter who was leaning against a door- post on the other side, with a forlorn looking tray of glasses and bottles in one hand, and a beautiful spider web in the crook of his other elbow. Don't these fellows ever move? I asked in an awed whisper. Oh, yassah, he answered, yassah. Dey've been quite restless lately. Mr. Handy, he took a cigarette out of his mouf ten days ago. ' Ten days! I exclaimed. Yassah, he replied, but it's Mr. Richards dat's worryin' me. Ah brought dis ginger ale fo' him three weeks ago, an' it's gettin' all stale while Mr. Markham decides whether to make it Lilies or No Trumps. I though-t I might as well sit down and wait for Sam to de- cide, because I knew that once he was started talking, he never would stop till he had told me all the scandal. But suddenly I heard a round of loud and hearty curses on the street, and I rushed for the door, my heart cheered at the prospect of seeing old Joe Parsons again. But I was mis- taken, it was Art Trowbridge, who was positively making 24