The class of ’Umpty-six was celebrating its silver-wedding. Twenty-five years had passed since these hilarious old grads received their sheepskins. They were back in force, and they had set out to make things lively.
The great dinner at Heibs’ was over. But, unless one eats the dinner, what profit to describe it. So the class of ’Umpty-six made merry on this occasion of hilarious good cheer. After twenty-five years the class had returned to dear old Yale, dined in the shadow of her buildings, and drunk often and lovingly to the memory of bygone days.
A band awaited those sons of ’Umpty-six outside the door. The toasts were over, so that now they were ready to start upon their night of fun. What though their hair is streaked with gray! What though some are bewhiskered to the eyes! Have they not left dignity, business cares, and such minor matters at home?
The band struck up, “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.” The ’Umpty-sixers came out of Heibs’, arm in arm. They caught up the song, and, in full blare, the band moved toward Chapel Street, the grads following. They turn into Chapel Street, which, even at this hour, is brilliantly lighted, for no one thinks of sleep to-night. And thus they move toward Osborne Hall.
On that corner, where is now the sober recitation hall, for half a century stood the old Yale fence, the focus of college life, the scene of storied struggles, the theater of evening glees, the symbol of happy days at Yale.
But now the old fence is gone. However, nothing will do for these old grads but that a substitute, propped up by iron supports, must be set in front of Osborn, and thither the jolly old ’Umpty-sixers direct their course.
“To the fence! Clear the road! Let off the red fire! Turn loose the sky-rockets and Roman candles, and cram the night full of blooming noise!”
Up Chapel Street they come in a flare of colored fire, with the rockets hissing skyward, the Roman candles popping aloft their gleaming balls of colored flame, while torpedoes and giant crackers add to the racket.
The windows of the New Haven House are filled with women and pretty girls who had been watching the hilarious crowd of grads across the street all the evening. This is a new and wild scene to them, and now, when they behold the ’Umpty-sixers come singing and dancing up to the fence, not a few are more than ever impressed by the fact that it is a dangerous thing to turn a Yale graduate loose on old New Haven town upon the occasion of one of his class reunions.
“’Umpty-sixers, take the fence!” goes up the cry.