Worcester Polytechnic Institute - Peddler Yearbook (Worcester, MA)

Page 14 text:

And now began the daily grind Of “Comfort” and “Chanvenet” combined, Free-hand drawing from two till four, And Practice each week ten hours more; And every day when work was o’er, Came the regular daily chapel bore. The only thing that relieved us much Was learning to swear in good, strong Dutch. Nor did we shine in class-room alone ; On Field day, also, our talents were shown In running and jumping, and eating too; There wasn’t a thing we couldn’t do. Of worthy opponents we’d only a few In the foremost athletes of ’82; And we yelled that day till our throats were sore From cheering the winners of ’84. Field day o’er, we next will speak Of that fatal examination week. Now cribbing wasn’t a science then, And so it happened that eight of our men, By some mischance of tongue or pen, Failed of the requisite six times ten; And so were released from the turmoil and strife Attending a technical student’s life. We prepared next, term, in a royal way, For the execution of Chanvenet. A committee for torches, another for wood, With instructions to steal as much as they could, Thus doing evil to bring forth good c 00 By saving expense, as every one should; While other committees made the coffin and bier, Which should, with Sir William, in flames disappear. 8

Page 13 text:

DfWer Jfyietoicp. If you’ll give me leave, we’ll now explore The deeds and doings of ’84. On the eighth of February, ’81, The “second half” had just begun; There were gathered around in O. M’s dive, To the number of just a dozen and five, A group of fellows in overalls new All of a uniform indigo blue. Every man of this new “ Prep ” class Partook of the color of growing grass; Now green is made in many a hue, By a varied mixture of yellow and blue. So in this group, on a careful view Of every one of this motley crew, Many a varied tint was seen, From “Wan” pale yellow to verdant “Green.” Five weary months went slowly by, While they butchered wood under O. M.’s eye. ’Twas little they worked, and less they learned; For, as often as O. M.’s back was turned, Both work and tools were quickly spurned To engage in the sports for which they yearned; And the glass that fell at every blow Showed that “Thompy ” was “on the throw.” t When these five months had gone at last, And the short vacation had quickly passed, They gathered again just as before; But, with them now were a number more, Who’d squeezed through examination’s door To swell the ranks of ’84. Forty-eight strong they stood there then, Thirty-one boys and seventeen men. 7

Page 15 text:

When the end of the Summer term drew nigh. Sir William was all prepared to die. His coffin was ready, his bier was all made, And so were the garments of sombre shade, In which the mourners would be arrayed, When they marched to the grave in solemn parade; His death, which occurred not a moment too soon, Was announced to take place on the 16th of June. At Seven Dix St., on the eve of that date, The mourners collected about half-past eight. The procession started precisely at nine, With Drum Major Fuller leading the line; While next came the Drum Corps, whose music divine Was acknowledged by all as exquisitely fine; Then followed Sir William, with coffin and bier, While our escorts, the Seniors, brought up in the rear. With steadfast steps we marched along, The envy of the gazing throng. But the “ Preps ” and Middlers gathered there With patience could no longer bear To watch the fun they could not share; And so they laid a crafty snare, Across our line to make a rush, And steal Sir William in the crush. The Middlers came down like wolves on the fold, But instantly wished they’d not been so bold; For they met with a sudden and total defeat, While Sir William went on undisturbed up the street, Ignorant still of the doom he should meet, As a just reward for his crime and deceit. At the top of the hill he was solemnly tried, And condemned to be hung by the neck till he died. 9