* THEKEM
TTJOKI-3i *
Junior History
"Quid enim immortale manus mortales fecerunt?" Which being freely renderd into the King's vernacular reads thus, to-wit:
"For what, indeed, have mortal hands erected that is not mortal?" Obviously, the implied answer to this ancient query is "Nothing," and we who have toiled slowly upward now for three long years, ever striving for one common goal, experience a twinge of poignant regret when the unassailable truth of this answer is forced upon us.
Among many other things, we regret that the end of our Junior year is at hand. Already there are sad premonitions of a time not far distant when we must bid farewell to these hallowed walls, for we are upon the very threshold of Seniority, the aim of all our struggles. And now attend, O stern Atropos, while we entreat Thee to relent the nonce and preserve from oblivion the cherished memories of our days togetherdays which slowly but surely arc slipping into the irretrievable Past. Grant eternal strength and freshness to the ties of sacred friendship which our loving hands have woven. And Thou, too O Clio, Muse of History, change thy wonted custom. When the time shall come for the class of 1914 to pass into Thy care, inter the evil it has done with its bones and let the good forever live upon Thy gleaming pages.
All through the storm and stress of our sojourn here, whether in victory or in defeat, success or failure, we have earnestly tried to
do our level best, and this we hold to be the acme of human endeavor. In our freshman year the high and mighty Wise Men who ruled over the Wild Cat lair in those prehistoric days marked us out for a peculiar distinction, in recognition, no doubt, of our unusual capabilities, and laying aside the "barber"-ous custom of mangling our hirsute adornment, promulgated a formidable decree that "the Freshman appear within a fortnight with a Red Cap adorning their brows." After a prolonged and wrathful struggle, rivalling in intensity the memorable strife which raged about the shores of ancient Troy, we manfully submitted with small injury to our sense of pride, in order to stave off the dire humiliation which threatened the aforesaid Wise Men, and to save our beloved University from the depletion which would have resulted. For some reason or other the results of our athletic struggles during that first eventful year have been consigned to blissful oblivion, and we must refer the curious reader, if there be such, to other pages than these if he would delve into this forbidden subject.
Historians will inform you that in our Sophomore year we wooed with more success the recalcitrant Dame Fortune, and that the palm of victory abode with us in every trial of strength and skill but one. They will also point out to you an unusually bright galaxy of poets, philosophers, orators and scholars, destined to accomplish much for their fellow man in the final School of Life.
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