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Show THE DIXIE OWL G North and South would be brothers once more, The man who had guarded the union Through the horror of war and of blood Laid his life on the alter of freedom, For his country, the union and Cod. Oh the Freshies woke one morn- ing, And found their pluck was dead Blame the Seniors! For and vim, Now crown the Seniors heads The glorious Seniors! stick-to-it-ivene- ss Fourteen-Year-Ol- d Boys people are more or less trying but the fourteen year old boy is the most so. He is too large to be punished forcibly (by girls) and is too smart to listen to reaHe turns the whole house son. into a skating rink, a trappers but or a bicycle repair shop, as the mood happens to strike him. The inroads he makes upon the cupboard when there is just enough cooked for supper, are His curiosity exhorrifying. tends from his sisters powder box to her love letters, and that curiosity is always satisfied. He meets objections with a fist so ready and so hard that the olher members of the household are forced to become his trembling servants or flee in disgrace. Anna Hopkins. All Annie Gardner. Senior Notes Archabald Berthalde I die, Oh, this is murder. Hero No, this is not murder; This is just-ice. The real Senior Spirit was given in the songs which the class sang. They gave our attitude toward the faculty and the other classes and toward the school. The Senior dance which followed the ball game between the Dixie and the P. A. C. revived the sunken hearts of all. It was the final event of Senior Week. Oh the College woke one morning, And found their wisdom gone Blame the Seniors The most wise Seniors! For the Seniors light is shining, And the College wisdoms done The radiant Seniors! Oh Juniors woke one morning, And their pride had taken a fall Blame the Seniors The loyal Seniors! For the Seniors knocked neckedness And pride out of them all The noble Seniors! stiff- Oh the Sophies woke one morn- ing. And found their power was weak Blame the Seniors The powerful Seniors! For the Seniors power is reign- cr AAAto And the Sophies are but meek The mighty Seniors. The Need of Contrast If all the skies were sunshine, Our faces would be fain To feel once more upon them The cooling splash of rain. If all the world were music. Our hearts would often long For one sweet strain of silence To break the endless song. If life were always merry, Our souls would seek relief And rest from weary laughter In the quiet arms of grief. Henry Van Dyke. Romney (who has just Forded over a small pet dog) Madam, madam, be calm! I will replace the dog, Sir, you Lady (witheringly) flatter yourself! Mr. The Restriction of Fashions Our next move towards the conservation of our resources will probably be government restriction of our fashions. Our fashions have finally reached a point where, at last under these worrying conditions, they have been pronounced as uneconomical and therefore detrimental to the well being of progressive society. Women are wearing shoes costdoling from ten to twenty-fiv- e reachlars. They have actually ed a point where, in many cases, they will not patronize a merchant who tries to be just in his prices. They have become so ignorant that many instances have been recorded in which women have turned down an article because the price was not high enough. Later they have purchased that identical article at a price double the original; and we may justly asume that the merchant was making a profit when he set his first price. The result is that these infamous women are forcing merchants to raise their prices and thus make a large profit. This in turn makes it possible for more merchants to enter industry and survive. If we are to win this war we must conserve in every way possible. Whenever two men are employed in an occupation that could be carried on by one man, we should do what we can to substitute the one man. This will be the case when fashions are restricted, and this movement has already begun manufacturers are forbidden to make ladies boots with a height exceeding seven inches if of leather, and eight inches if of other material. Willard Alger. Theres nothing like the Kaiser for stirring up Cupid. |
