Wellesley College - Legenda Yearbook (Wellesley, MA)

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20 r H K L K GENOA Then I rose up from my Lelinstulil, that I mi ht perform the painful Task of telling, and of dwelling on the fact I ' d lend no more. But she looked up with such pleading, and said she, Tm greatly needing Alcohol to make creamed chicken, ere of hunger 1 do sicken. Give it me, I do emplore. Spoke 1 then in accents chilling, all my frame with anger thrilling, You have fed upon my food-stuff : alcohol you ' ve had galore ; You continuallv are preying, though vou never think of paying. Take your foot from off my threshold ; take your form from out my door, And return ve ne ermore. THE YOUNG MAY MOON THE voung May moon is beaming, love. The electric bulb is gleaming, love: How sad to rove Through Learning ' s grove. While the drowsy world is dreaming, love. Then awake! — the alarm peals in minht, my dear ! The bed ' s very warm — Vou arc light, my dear! But the best of all ways To lengthen our days Is to steal a few houi ' s from the night, mv dear! Now all the world is sleeping, love. But vour work before vou is heaping, love, .And pen and ink, To make you shrink. Are on your desklid keeping, love. Then awake! — till rise of sun, mv dear, The sage ' s course we ' ll run. mv dear. Lest, from cutting the class. Or flunking — alas! Little notes from the oftice should come, my dear! is for .Adams, T) is for Baird, Angelic and mild ; X Who once said I cared -She ' s been from youth ui)ward .So much for that Credit A lovable chilcl. I reallv felt scared ! ' Admirable Adams ! Brilliant Baird

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NINETEEN l H R E E 19 Thev sang. And thus ended the tale of die class of Nineteen Three Wellcsley ; Knded the tale, not the course, for a year still lies before them — Saddest of years, yet the best, a year of cares and of honors. (Horiously may the Trojans attain the goal set before them ; Fearlessly may they look forward into the opening future, True to all their ideals, true to their class and their motto, Loving their Alma Mater, the College Beautiful Wellesley. ON MY PENURY WHEN I consider how my cash is spent Ere half my days in this long month and wide. And that account book which I dare not hide Lodged with me useless, tho ' my soul more bent To balance up its entries, and present My true account, lest papa seeing chide : Oh, when will my next month ' s allowance come ? I fondly ask : but sad experience Beats down my hope, and cries : To keep from debt Either you work, or don ' t get into debt ! Who most Go off on bats, they get broke first : your state Is merited ; most hoard their income small And spend so wisely that no cent is lost : But ve who scjuander can but mourn, too late ! THE CRAVEN Y ESTER evening, bleak and dreary, while 1 pondered, tired and weary, ( )ver many a dull and stupid volume of scholastic lore. While I studied, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, And 1 heard a genUe rapping, rapping at my chamber door. Tis the borrower, I muttered, tapping at my chamber door, 1 will give her nothing more. For distinctly 1 remember she has borrowed since September, Borrowed from each patient member who has lived upon this floor. 1 am weary of this lending : I am tired of always sending ? )r provisions, and of wending my way down to Shaltuck ' s store. I will lend, no, nevermore.

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NI NETEEN TH REE 21 FUDGE PHILOSOPHY UI ' ON my neii;hb )r ' s close-shut door Is pinned die placard Sleeping, And through the crack in wall and Hoor A ru(lu, smell is creeping. I am not sad that she makes fudge ; She may if she will risk it, And 1 will ' munch without a grudge, Mv drv Tni ' L-da biscuit. I envv not mv neighl)or s work ; To me it nowise matters, When, to the tloor with sounding jerk. Her whole fudge-basin clatters. I too am fond of sweets, but still I munch without resentment. That she will make herself quite ill, I feel a strong present ' ment. Let other people, swift to run. At hint of cooking ' s savors. Extol my neighbor ' s fudge and fun, Her friskings and her flavors. 1 care not. Still for me my box Is tilled with wholesome crackers, 1 need not fasten all my locks To keep out would-be smackers. For me no indigestion ' s ills. To follow on the morrow : No scurryings and grocer ' s bills To pay back what 1 borrow. And see, how snug and calm am 1 ! I crunch my frugal diet, And read a pleasant book, and lie In happiness and quiet. But hark ! I hear my neighbor groan — The fudge, it has boiled over, While I lie chuckling here, and own That surely I ' m in clover. Poor neighbor! Though you may like fudge, A rug of sticky sweetness Will make you wish a change, I judge, To crackers and to neatness. Not chocolate, nor sugar neat. Nor even luscious butter, Can tempt me with allurements sweet. To stir up such a clutter.