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THE CRIMSON BREAKFAST.

REPORTED BY OUR OWN CORRESPONDENT.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

IN anticipation of the fifteenth birthday of the Crimson a breakfast was given by the Board at the Hotel Brunswick. It was not much of a breakfast, but that was what it was called. It began at noon and lasted until midnight, and it was the privilege of many dignitaries to be present. At the left hand of the presiding officer sat President and Mrs. Hayes, and at his right hand were the members of the Boston press, headed by the Herald man. But without lingering upon the guests or the menu, let us pass at once to the after-breakfast part, - the intellectual feast.

At the close of the sumptuous repast the presiding officer rose with the assistance of his neighbors, and said, "Gentlemen, I give you as our first toast this evening, The Crimson. Long may she blush!"

This was considered inappropriate, inasmuch as the Crimson had never done anything to blush for; accordingly a new presiding officer was elected, and he who was deposed retired under the table in chagrin. The new President proposed the health of the newly elected Sophomore Board, and as none of them were considered able to reply to this toast, Mr. John G. Wh-tt-r was called upon, and read the following ode:-

THE SOPHOMORE.Blessings on thee, little man !

Sophomore, with cheek of tan,

With thy light-checked pantaloons,

And thy whistled opera-tunes.

With thy red lip, redder still,

Kissed by maids of Dana Hill.

O'er thy fair face broods immense

Harvard's proud indifference.

Faith, I love to see thee soar,

I was once a Sophomore.

Let the Senior strut and swell;

Thou hast more than he can tell.

He has calls and debts in store -

Blessings on thee, Sophomore !

Oh for Sophomoric joy !

Summonses without annoy.

Many useful kinds of knowledge

Never learned inside the College:

Of the tailor's tricky ways,

How the proud 'Port "peeler" slays;

Where the fire-ladders are;

How to catch a bad catarrh;

Feats of gymnasts wonderful;

How to pull a single scull;

How the hare and hounds is played;

How a tennis score is made;

How to walk like everything

With the famous Harvard swing;

How the tutor's life to vex,

How to flirt with the Annex;

How a cigarette is rolled,

How to grind up physics cold;

Where the swellest Seniors go,

Where the greenest Freshmen blow;

Of the Proctor's cunning way

On examination day.

Me all objects waited for

When I was a Sophomore.

For my sport the Freshman went

On my many errands bent.

For me each professor set

Just the hardest paper yet.

For my sake the postman brought

Bills from merchants of the 'Port.

Once a week came Connors up

To present me with a pup.

For my sake the President

Now and then a message sent.

For my sake the Bursar fair

Saved a splendid room in Thayer;

And the Janitor I kept

Smoked my meerschaum while I slept.

For my sake the man next door

Sang the whole of Pinafore;

And the athlete overhead

Trained when I had gone to bed.

I was monarch, - dun and bore

Waited on the Sophomore.

Happy, then, my little man,

Live and laugh while yet you can.

All too soon will come the drear

Aftermath of Junior year.

Soon it will be your vocation

To write theses in vacation.

Happy, happy, will you be

If you capture your degree.

Happy, if you can get through

Ere some tutor sits on you.

Mr. J. P. Tr-wbr-dge was next called upon, and sang the following

SONG.White and blue is Columbia's hue,

And Dartmouth is very green;

And Yale becomes exceedingly blue

When her boat in a race is seen.

White and red crowns Cornell's head,

And Bowdoin blows in white,

And Harvard blushes a glowing red,

Like Maud when I kissed her last night.

I love to see the white and blue,

And Dartmouth's emerald green;

I love to see Yale's azure hue,

When her boat in a race is seen;

I love old Cornell's red and white,

And Bowdoin, and all the rest;

But I love, - I love my darling Maud,

And the Harvard Crimson best.

This was considered rather too anacreontic by some members of the Board, and one gentleman thought it was rough on Maud. It was voted to send the stanzas to the Echo as a college song. Mr. Francis Bret H-rte was then called upon, and responded with

OUR SOCIETY.We once had a society, Miss Anna X and I,

With semi-weekly meetings round the corner on the sly;

And we had a constitution which it had this end in view,

To provide that our society be limited to two.

Now nothing could be finer or more beautiful to see

Than the first six weeks' proceedings of that same society,

Till Anna took it in her head the by-laws to amend

To provide that our society admit another friend.

Which friend his name was Snodkins, and I swore I 'd not agree

To associating with a man what was in '83,

When Anna, who was President, revealed to me the door,

And the subsequent proceedings interested me no more.

Though I was quite disgusted, speaking freely, for I knew

Mr. Snod would have the nice initiation I went through.

And now I 've told you all I can about the little spree

That broke up the society of Anna X. and me.

This was recognized at once as a gross plagiarism upon a dainty poem of the Advocate. Mr. H. was visited with scorn, and replied by throwing about the spoons. At this critical state of affairs Mr. Walt Wh-tm-n emerged from under the table, and delivered the following

ODE TO THE CRIMSON.O great, incomparable, and never-to-be-surpassed Crimson !

What have you done ? What have you not done ? What will you do ?

You are a microcosm of the universe.

Essays, Satires, Editorials, Brevities, Jokes, Poems, Verses, Love-Stories, Tales, Critiques, Book Notices, Articles, Sentences, Words, swarm upon your pages.

You are read by Seniors, Juniors, Sophomores, Freshmen, Law-Pills, Janitors, Goodies, Pocos, Ladies of the Library, Car-Conductors, the Bursar, Jones, Waitt, Billy, the Faculty, the Corporation, the President, John, every one but proctors.

Crimson, I love you, and you love me. We love each other.

Hooray !

Likewise, Bravo ! and I might add, Hoop-la!

You are the Register of college news, the Advocate of plank walks, the Echo of every noble College sentiment!

The effect of this production was overwhelming, until some one pointed out that Mr. W. had crowded puffs of the Crimson's three rivals into the last lines. He was prevailed upon to return under the table, and the business proceeded with a song by Mr. Edmund Clarence St-dm-n.

SONG.Which is the paper that's famed for "Lies "?*

The Advocate, Freshie; and Seniors say

They always expect some witty surprise

On every Advocate day.

Which is the paper the Faculty love ?

The Register, Freshie, and I know why;

Because in its pages they hope to shove

Their pictures by and by.

Which is the paper that likes to blow ?

The Echo, Freshie; and some men say

That like all echoes, its echoes grow

Much weaker, day by day.

Which is the paper by graduates run ?

The Lampoon, Freshie; and I should smile

At the cocky air of this graduate fun,

It puts on so much style.

Which is the paper that's red as a rose ?

The Crimson, Freshie; it 's always gay.

It dares all kinds of wrong to expose,

And gives them dead away.

The Board voted to have this song printed in all the college papers, after which Mr. John G. S-xe delivered an

ODE.See how a very ruddy glow

Spreads o'er the Crimson Board;

For when I rise to speak, they know

That they 'll be still more bored.

But brace up, pray, you really ought,

And listen to my song;

For though to-night you 've kept me short,

I will not keep you long.

The Sophomores around us here

To suffer more are seen,

Than e'er they did in Freshman year,

When wearing off the green.

What makes us Seniors love them all

As dearly as we do ?

It is because we eighty are,

And they are eighty, too.

Alas ! I am a Senior still,

Though older far than you;

For though to college I got in,

I never could get through.

I took a horse to ease my course,

And cut, - yet found it hard;

For e'er since I was registered,

I have been registrared,

And now my stanzas all are through,

I 'll stop, or I 'll be blowed;

And since I owed a song to you,

I 've sung to you an Ode.

This being received with groans, the President remarked that he thought it was time to hear from some of our friends across the water who were unable to be present, but had kindly sent over their little tributes. He then called upon Mr. James T. F-lds to read Mr. Algernon Charles Sw-nb-rne's

BALLAD OF LOVE-LAND.Wherever the spirit of light love wanders,

To the last low edge of each long lone land;

Wherever his whispering sighs he squanders

O'er a sweet, soft lip, or a dimpling hand;

Wheresoever a charming maid is,

Whose sighs are tender, whose eyes are kind,

There are none to be found like the Cambridge ladies, - To talk you blind.

But among those beautiful blooming ladies,

Who rule my heart with a rod of steel,

One bright particular starry maid is

To whom I am plighted for woe or weal.

Shall I name her ? The Crimson, whose charm encloses

My heart in a soft and silky knot;

She's red as the reddest of all red roses, - In fact, red-hot.

Mr. F. delivered this with great feeling, and as much pride as if it had been his own, and the Board were all very much affected. Mr. F. was then requested to read another glowing tribute by Mr. Robert Br-wn-ng, entitled

THE PROCTOR'S APOLOGY.Now !

Not now! I 'll not subscribe unto thy wretched sheet.

What ? You 'll put an ear on me ? I do not tumble.

Come, draw it mild, I am dead broke, my boy,

Else I would ante-up. I give myself away ?

Am off my perch ? You 'll not bulldoze me thus

With all thy taffy. I will not weaken,

So fire away, old grind, you have the coldest cheek

Of any flunk in college. You 're the boss snide - a tart piece on a tare,

And I will sit on you when next you try

To squirt in my elective, - that you call the soft.

When you have got it cold, and think'st to make a rush,

I 'll get the bulge on you, - the dead wood,

And you shall slump and dead in spite of crib and cram, -

The section shall wood up, and you 'll be tried.

What growl you ? Cut it short ? Well, I should smile.

Come, cut, you scrub, light out, walk off upon your ear,

Give us a rest, or I will fire you out.

You put on too much dog, too many lugs;

Come, hit her up, my Lippi, make a brace,

Or you 'll get scooped, for such a boom as this

I ne'er was gagged by. You are too flash by half.

What, hire a hall ? that's old, you bummer !

Come, strike; go gull some other duffer.

Would like a smile ? Well, seeing it 's you,

I don't care if I do. Beer's good enough for me. The proctor crawls.

Aha ! my boy, that's into me ! Thy paper's glorious;

It takes the belt, it yanks the bun,

It carries off the immortal cake.

The President next declared that he had reserved something choice from the Poet Laureate, Mr. Alfred T-nnys-n. It was called

A FRAGMENT.At the Semis all the ponies in the Yard are on the trot;

At the Semis all the proctors are on hand the crib to spot;

At the Semis cunning Connors wants to give away a pup,

And each broke association hopes that you will ante-up.

At the Semis every bummer vows that he will make a brace;

At the Semis each professor looks quite careworn in the face.

Then the precious prowling proctor brushes up his squeaky shoes,

And the much-conditioned Senior has a fearful fit of blues.

This was discovered, however, to be a poem which the Crimson had rejected, and the President thought that home talent had better be encouraged in future. He therefore called upon Dr. Oliver Wendell H-lm-s for one of the poems of his boyhood. The Doctor gave

THE SUBSCRIPTION MAN.There are three frauds at college here

Who help to drain one's purse;

Though two of them are bad enough

The third is somewhat worse;

And if you 'll lend your ear to me,

Their tales I will rehearse.

You 're grinding Greek some afternoon;

A knock upon the door;

In walks the patent book-rack fiend,

Who talks till you are sore;

You buy just to get rid of him

What you have bought before.

Perchance you 're dozing by the fire;

A wretch drags in a book,

To come in parts, and twice a month,

And begs you 'll take a look;

You see he is too big to kick,

And so you bite the hook.

You 're smoking your last cigarette;

A classmate "just drops in,"

And makes some foul old joke about

Relieving you of tin;

Then takes out his subscription book

To bleed you, with a grin.

No! pay the Poco if he'll take

Your last old coat away;

And pay your board bill, though you know

You 're starving day by day;

And pay the scot when chum has not

The wherewithal to pay.

But if you are a muscle-man

Of goodly size to view,

And classmate is collecting for

The Nine or for the Crew,

Just say you 're training for the same,

And hope that he 'll train too.

Or if you are a little man,

And that would be too thin,

Say you have other channels for

The flowing of your tin;

And as for the athletic sports,

You think them all a sin.

But if he is an editor,

Who dabbles in belles-lettres,

And says, unto the Advocate

He wants to make you debtor,

Pray tell him with your blandest smile

You like the Crimson better.

This was considered uncomplimentary to the editors of the Advocate, and the Doctor was accordingly promptly admonished. The following letters were then read:-

GENTLEMEN,- It is with pain that I am obliged to refuse your invitation. I am anxious to avoid the appearance of making a bid for a third term, and therefore I have not appeared in public for the past two years.

U. S. GRANT.EDITORS OF THE CRIMSON, - I should be glad to dine with you, but I am obliged to stay in New York to keep an eye on Cyrus W. Field. Yours as in 1876,

SAMUEL J. TILDEN.GENTLEMEN, - Your invitation is doubtless a proof of your sincere admiration, but I would have you know that I am a Yale girl, and adverse to attention from any other quarter.

MARY ANDERSON.PUBLISHERS OF CRIMSON, - I don't go much on dinners, but if you want any help in counting in your newly elected Board, I 'm your man.

ALONZO GARCELON.YOUNG MALES, - When you admit the ladies of the Annex to your editorial board, and thereby recognize them as your equals, I shall be happy to dine with you, but not till then.

SUSAN B. ANTHONY.GENTLEMEN, - I fail to see what connection your invitation has to do with politics, or how it would in any way assist the working of the immortal machine. Therefore I must decline.

ROSCOE CONKLING.YOUNG GENTLEMEN, - I understand that Mr. Conkling has been invited to your dinner, but that Mr. Blaine has not. Permit me to say that I consider Mr. Blaine insulted. I never go where Mr. Blaine is not invited.

GAIL HAMILTON.AMERICAN COUSINS, - I am sorry to decline your invitation, but in view of the approaching election and the activity of the opposition, England must be kept excited. I must remain at my post, and try to prod up the Russian bear, or, if I can't do that, I 'll kill off the rest of the Zulus.

BENJAMIN DISRAELI, EARL OF BEACONSFIELD.MY DEAR KIN BEYOND THE SEA, - I am always glad to dine with Americans, for I consider Americans the salt of the earth; but I am needed at home just now to prevent that puppet Beaconsfield from imposing on the people by his tricks.

Yours, GLADSTONE.AMERICANS AND GENTLEMEN, - Usually I have plenty of spare time, and would be with you; but, gentlemen, there is going to be a vast European war which may involve all the world except Germany in destruction. Would n't you like to know what I am going to do about it ?

HERR VON BISMARK.DEAR CRIMSON, - I would love to come if you will give me a puff in your paper.

HELENA MODJESKA.Not granted. This was too much for the equanimity of the Board. It was moved that the remaining letters, including many from prominent college officials, be laid on the table. The Board then adjourned in confusion to the Cambridge horse-car, where a business meeting was held, and it was voted to use the funds, which the paper would accumulate during the coming year, for another breakfast one year from date.

W.

* This is a famous department of this paper, and the statement is intended as a compliment.

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