Temple University - Templar Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

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drogeous was appalled at the same time that he stopped his voice with his foot, it was too much even for our stern professor. it was then that his face lost its accustomed dignity, that his jaw dropped, his lips parted and that he broke into a hearty peal of laughter. How Androgeous accomplished this remarkable feat Stone is still endeavoring to explain to us. Caesar and Cicero we, of course, enjoyed, but Virgil was particularly liked (in some cases disliked). Truly Virgilas, in the words of our translations, he crossed the dolorous Stygian Hood, stopped his ears in the blessed abode of Hades, must have wondered how he ‘attained such immortality through his writings if they impressed the world as they seemed to impress us, must have wondered as he reposed in the regions of the blessed. As we sonorously chanted the rolling cadences of Virgil’s inimitable hexameters one could with difficulty realize that he were not in the streets of Rome itself. We were all good at scanning, but at that Miss Miller surpassed all the others. Ye gods and little fishes! what wild emotions swelled in our breasts as she scanned. Her face was tragic. Her voice had all the agonized pathos of a fair heroine, whom the villain (Prof, see) was tormenting with cruel and ceaseless questioning, and it was always with a sigh of relief that we observed that Miss Miller had finished her reading without any disastrous consequence. These are examples of the daily happenings of one of the most long-suffering classes of the school whose anxious faces were seen everv morning second period at the door of P 5. 22

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failure by the energetic efforts of his neighbors. The well-cultivated art of bluffing was brought to a high pitch of perfection here. The honors lay between Miller and Wolf. Wolf was the more daring, but Miller was the more artistic. Wolf’s bluffs were like his parsings, often ridiculous, but Miller gave the impression of stores of hidden wisdom which he could at any time unfold. Dr. McIntyre would have had to combine his literary ability with detective skill equal to that of Sherlock Holmes to have distinguished between Miller's information and Miller's apparent information. We are certain that the Doctor did not know how much chess was played in his class, since most all the tournament games were played there without interference, but as this is a day of specialization, we cannot expect ‘‘fessor’’ to become an amateur detective, as he is already the golfiac, theologian, literature professor and lecturer. Latin was a study in which some of our classmates delighted, and which others took for other reasons than pleasure. Professor Lee was our teacher, and none was more fitted than he for the place. He reminded us of an ancient, stoic philosopher; his very appearance seemed in keeping with the languages he taught. Tall and spare of figure, lean of face, with an expression of imperturbable gravity, it was difficult indeed to disturb the calm serenity of those stoical features, yet one incident occurred which proved that it was not impossible. Stone, whose brilliancy as a translator in any language from Chinese to Hog Latin is well known, was telling in his usual animated way of the mistake of An-drogeous at the fall of Troy, but when it appeared that An- 21

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The gentleman who presides over the domain of history and political economy is a short, blushing “fessor,” with a decided propensity for getting off little jokes which sometimes attained a certain respectability. He was entirely too gentle to stop any offense under chess playing. That alone he decidedly demurred to. Miss Miller could call him “dear child,” Miss Harton play with his hat or steal photographs from his desk, but when poor Pierce passed a chessboard along the row the professor's mild blue eye immediately spied it, and commanded, ‘‘Put that board away!” Mr. Robertson, of Mississippi, was so moved one day by the reminiscences of John Brown to remark to Professor, “Why, we used to sing a song about that down South; it started off abmt ‘John Brown’s body.’ ” The class roared and professor gasped, “Yes, we've heard that song before.” Some persons in the class took flunks too seriously and unnecessarily. One day Miss Reifsnyder was questioned, and not having the answer on the tip of her tongue, said, “I don’t know.” Likewise did Miss Miller and others, but when it came to W. Ii. Miller it went no farther. Not that he knew any more about it than they did, but one would have thought he did, and that is all that is necessary. A curious attribute of a battle was discovered here one day. That attribute is shape. This is stated on Professor McKinley’s authority, and the misfortune was that it added another thing to remember about the battle of Chancellors-ville, which Miss Godfrey had striven to remember for three weeks. It is to be feared that Miss Godfrey’s memory is like the rest of her—short. The test of studiousness in this class was not in perfection 23