Worcester Polytechnic Institute - Peddler Yearbook (Worcester, MA)

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TEN has it been said that ever since the first issue of the Institute paper, its editors have been continually harried on every side by arti¬ cles from aspiring students upon “ college patriotism,” ” social unity,” and ‘‘class feeling.” The articles usually commence as though the writers were entering upon new themes and as though new argu¬ ments for social unity were being presented for the first time. The announcement in the paper that more editors are needed brings with it a torrent of neatly written and punctuated essays upon that very threadbare subject. New boards have come and gone; new editors have presided, but yet that ine.xhaustible theme has furnished a continuous stream of matter, dilated upon according to the amount of ‘‘filling” required. Solemnly, very solemnly, does each article impart the news that there is a great lack of social feeling within these ‘‘marble halls.” The same subject, couched in different language, appears again and again as though condemned to whirl forever through the unending cycles of eternity. It is impossible to say whether past events have or have not been influenced by these vivid remonstrances, hut it is a fact that something most unexpected happened during the first days of December, 1891. The occasion was the establishment of a social organization, embodying many of the views expressed in the above-mentioned articles. II

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fills the bill in that particular. Still less have we sought to compile a useful encyclopedia of the Tech. That would require gravity, and the Board, individually as well as collectively, have not acquired a reputation for more gravity than the law allows. Our first intention was to publish something humorous, but, after a thorough e.xamination of the material from which humor was to be evolved, our maiden intentions were thrown to the winds. What we have done is open to inspection. The publication of the book was not seriously discussed until March, and work upon it was not commenced until the April vacation. This statement is not offered as an e.xcuse but as a reason for our not being able to embody many ideas that have since occurred to us. We have endeavored to make the book as artistic as possible, and to that end have spared no expense. As to literary merits, the editors disclaim all knowledge of any such non-essentials and would consider it as very thoughtful to have “gentle reader” temporarily afflicted with like ignorance. The Socialists do not publish this book to show how little they know about such things. They do it primarily to prove that it is possible for a Tech social organization not only to thrive but also to be able to publish a record of their doings, indeed, a class-book in all but name. In conclusion, we have but one request to ask of all, please do not call this “the L’Expose.”

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EFORE the Thanksgiving recess, the formation of this club was urged by several men, but action was not taken upon it until after that vacation. Upon Nov. 30, we may say that the continued and highly successful society drama. The Socialists of ’92, was commenced by eleven actors, some of whom occupied boxes of a greater or less degree of warmth. In place of the regular orchestral music, we had the plaintive “chug-chug” of the steam pipes, the patter of the janitor’s feet and the wild, wierd eloquence of the opposition. The curtain rises upon a farce comedy entitled, “Hoodooed; or among the Molecules.” Three honored gentlemen of the class were determined to be the comic villains of the play, and proceeded to read their parts with tragic effect. These gentlemen perhaps did not rehearse their characters. They did not need to, for nature had none that part of the job only too well. During the comedy several operatic gems were rendered by the trio; “There aren’t fifteen men in the class who can keep the thing alive.” “The whole thing will be blamed slow.” “Don’t want to say it will go under, but don’t think it can work.” “Didn’t come in to join.” “Just thought I’d see what you were going to do about it.” There were no encores. The next appear¬ ance of the Senior artists, Dec. 2, was signalized by much enthusiasm. Perhaps the dead men were coming to life. This appearance, or rehearsal, was notable for the fact that the cast contained no villains. Two of our prospective actors, fearful of temptation, and remembering it was growing late and very dark, hurriedly made their exit.