University of Rhode Island - Renaissance / Grist Yearbook (Kingston, RI)

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1902 t 7 embers. James E. Cargill Oliver N. Ferry Eatham Clarke Ralph N. Maxson Bailey J. Cornell Robert W. Pitkin Arthur E. Reynolds J onorary Tlfember. Miss E. J. Watson. B. J. Cornell, President. O. N Ferry, Vice-President. A. E- Reynolds, Secretary and Treasurer. CLASS YELL : We are not going to yell until we graduate or until there are enough members to make a good healthy screech. I T does not seem more than a few weeks ago when the ’oo Grist editor came and made the heart-breaking statement that we had but a week to finish our history. Now the ’oi editor has just made his rounds with the same tale of woe, so the mill has been set in motion and the results are here. In the first place, WE are growing smaller. Three have left in the past year and but one new one been taken in, leaving us with the small but lucky number, seven. Though we are not “so many,’’ enough work has been done to make up for the lack in numbers. If there is any truth in that old grind about Jack over- working we should be about as dull as the point of one of Max- sou ' s jokes. If one could stack up all the note paper we have

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liues if he could be induced to put on a uniform. In other words, he has as long a body as name. When one of the girls asks him what the i-dea(r) is about which he is constantly talking, he always answers, “You, dear.” When he has finished the book of which he is editor- in-chief, we hope that he will settle down and not try to be funny. oratory work and dancing. Truly diverse tastes, but there is method in her madness. Louis George Karl Clarner, Jr., is one of those sons of rest, who, as a rule, come from Pawtucket. Like other mem- bers of the class, he always appears about three days after school begins. Ask some of the knowing ones if you wish to know where “ Fritz ” is. As an athlete he would cut quite a figure on the side

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used ; pour on the midnight oil that has been burned, and light the pile by some of the blue flames which occasionally emanate from No 26, the result would fry all the eggs wasted by the poul- try class in the past three years. That expresses the whole thing in an egg-shell. You may not credit it, but during the Winter term our brains were over-taxed to such an extent that our slumbers were affected much as if we had been eating some of Helme’s mince pies. Think of waking up in the intense and murky darkness of Davis Hall and seeing the grillions of big overgrown molecules chasing poor little inoffensive atoms all over the wall paper. In our terror we would often call for Dr. Bucher to arrest them for disobeying Avogadro’s law It was awful Sometimes the mind would take a different turn and the whole room would seem full of parabolas and hyperbolas, and from the midst of them would come a sweet and gentle voice saying: ' • You can have just ten minutes to write the equations to these.” The only thing that saved us from total madness was the dancing class. There all the cares and woes were forgotten in the mazes of the waltz and two-step, and our minds were allowed to relax from the strain of German and Chemistry and find rest in the strains of Whistling Rufus, or Home, Sweet Home. Reynolds could outdo all of us as a “ relaxer.” He would often neglect to change partners for a whole hour, but under the circumstances it was all ( W)riglit. Some doubts have been expressed as to our ability to publish the annual next year, but if you will glance at the seven sturdy names of our members and think of the talent represented there I think you will agree that we are capable of anything. Just listen to some of the drops of wisdom which are daily falling from the lips of our “ wise men:” “ Now, professor, there is a question in my mind whether the assimilatory activity of the proteinaceous protoplasm of the Equisetum can be attributed to chemical reac- tions or to photo-syntax.” One day in the biological lab. a dreamy sensation permeated through the region of one of the student’s optic thalmi and slowly smoothed the convolutions of his medulla oblongata into a smoth- ered yell. The professor looked at him a moment and said: ‘‘Are