The walls of the Union, which have echoed to the mighty reverberations of Harvard rallies, will shake with mirth this evening, for Copey makes his annual bow. Those whom he has in years past enthralled with his declamatory ability and delighted with his originality will acclaim him, and those who know for the first time this famed denizen of the Yard will soon become his idolaters. This evening's reading is an event impatiently awaited both by the intimates of this marvel and by those who reverently regard him from a distance.
With the increasing subjection of faculty, as of students, to the time-clock regime, the tradition of scholarly leisure becomes more and more precious. As the academic profession falls within the grasp of efficient doers, the triple-distilled essence of Copey's individuality is the more highly prized. His is a distinct personality which stimulates in those whom he touches a wide gamut of emotional vibration, ranging from admiration to awe.
Copey's reading makes the weary student realize, in spite of lost classes and cuts, that the holiday is really approaching. There could be no surer presage of festivity than Copey's wholly charming and unstudied fun, for everywhere he arouses a flood of friendly merriment and a feeling of deep, if unspoken love.