I strolled one night beneath the trees,
When from the shadows of Old Main,
There floated gently on the breeze
A voice, I knew not whence it came.
A. stranger voice I ne’er had heard,
’Twas solemn as a fun’ral knell;
It spoke in terms that were absurd,
Of college boys and Profs, as well.
I glided softly toward the spot
From whence these strange words seemed to coi
He speaks of drinking, does he not?
I hear him mumbling now of rum.
As I drew nearer I perceived
A sight which made my heart rejoice;
No student ’twas as I’d believed,
It was the latest New York Voice .
THE VINDICATION OF THE PREX
3 early in the evening, and over all there hung the he
ressive, sultry air which the warm day had brought ■
The sun was just setting behind the treetops of
>eyond the orchard, and the slanting rays, catching
lome on the tower of Old Main, transformed it in
gleaming fire. Below, over the green-carpeted cam
idows, grotesque and sombre, were gathering. The s
bich during the bright day had fluttered with such n
W. E. A.,