Worcester Polytechnic Institute - Peddler Yearbook (Worcester, MA)

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17 Perhaps that same night the Doctor would give us a little talk after prayers, on the obvious and vicious habit of drinking over a bar. Well, we felt all right, as most of us had been drinking over a bar-rel. Gone are those happy days, gone is the good old cider, and gone forever is the class of ’81 from the scenes © of their hard study, and of so many happy frolics. HALF WAY THROUGH. f O commemorate the successful completion of the first half of our course, it was thought nec¬ essary and proper that a class supper should be pre¬ pared, and also a general entertainment for and by the class. The Lincoln House was selected as the ‘‘locus” of our “ bum,” and the entertainment was furnished by illustrious members of our class, for we had found already that the class of ’81 had in its make-up ev¬ erything necessary for a celebration, be it a funeral or a war-dance. The proprietor of the Lincoln House outdid him¬ self in preparing the elegant and sumptuous feast to which the class did ample justice, and “ Donnie ” was once observed to get up and shake down the amount of an hour’s hard work, and then set to with renewed energy ; but it became necessary to choke off “ Der Lange ” to save the dishes, and it after¬ wards came to light that he and ‘ ‘ Donnie ” were hav¬ ing an eating match, but he handicapped “ Donnie ”

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16 juice, fresh from the press. Whenever we had a spare hour and were all together, some one would propose to go to the cider mill. Not a dissenting voice would be heard, and away we would go at a 2.40 pace for that Mecca of the jolly “ Tech.”—the old cider mill on the Boulevard. When we arrived there, Donnie passed the hat around, and cider for the crowd was ordered. The accommodations for customers were not of the best. In the whole estab¬ lishment there was only one chair, and Josh always managed to get hold of that first; and there was only one drinking vessel—an old wooden mug—but this did not dampen the ardor of the cider-loving “ Tech.” Divers measures, buckets, pails, etc., were called upon to perform service, and the fellows were as happy as clams in high water, drinking their punch, astride a barrel, out of anything which would hold it. No one would believe, but those who saw it, the quantity of cider some of the fellows were able to carry. Chub’s usual dose was three quarts, but Long Slater could beat that by another pint. Jim used to say that he could get away with a half¬ gallon without feeling a bit dizzy, but a quart was all Whitie dared to take. All things considered, Robbins, for his height and the smallness of his paunch, could drink more cider than any other man in the class. When we were all satisfied and glori¬ ously full, we’d wend our way along the Boulevard towards the “Castle on the Hill.” But before we arrived there, many an apple tree suffered and many an apple was shied at many a cider filled “ Tech.”

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18 and came in six laps ahead, without even loosening the buckle on his vest straps. After the supper, at which flirting with the waiter girls was prohibited, (an entirely unnecessary res¬ triction,) the class adjourned to the parlor, and then proceeded to entertain themselves. The programme consisted of remarks by the President, toasts, an ora¬ tion, speeches, etc., interspersed with vocal and in¬ strumental music. After the fixed programme was finished, a couple of “yarns” from each member were called for, and “ Monk ” distinguished himself by giving a half-dozen or more. Games were then suggested, and after amusing themselves until 3 a. m. they dispersed, well satisfied, to their several homes. The following is an overflow from one of the “Har¬ dy sons of toil” of’81. Its form was suggested to its author by the machine poetic translations of the “ Castle by the Sea,” and many others which we had translated ( ? ) while under the supervision of Profes¬ sor S-. Its subject, and the wonderful treatment of it were taken and “ biled down” from a response to a toast to the school, at our half-way supper. DAS SCHLOSS AM YUGEL. I. Have you seen that hall of learning, That little school up on the hill, Where the boys, when from duty turning, Have t o take the Doctor’s pill ?