"VALE, ALMA MATER!"
"Oh, it was 'Ave, Alma Mater—'
We sang as Freshmen gay;
But it's 'Vale, Alma Mater' now
As our last farewells we say!"
"Honk-Honk! Br-r-rr-r-Bang! Honk-Monk! Br-rr-rr-r—"
T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., big Butch Brewster, Beef McNaughton, Pudge Langdon,
Scoop Sawyer, and little Theophilus Opperdyke—late Seniors of old
Bannister—roosted atop of good old Dan Flannagan's famous jitney-bus
before Bannister Hall. It was nearly time for the 9.30 A. M. express, but
the "peace-ship" had inconsiderately stalled, and the choking, wheezing,
and snorting of the engine, as old Dan frenziedly cranked, together with
the Claxon, operated by Skeet Wigglesworth, rudely interrupted the Seniors'
chant. A vociferous protest arose above the tumult:
"Oh, the little old Ford—rambled right along—like heck!"
"Can that noise-we want to sing a last song, boys!"
"Chuck that engine, Dan, and put in an alarm clock spring!"
"Christmas is coming, Dan-u-el—we've graduated you know!"
"'The Dove' doesn't want us to leave old Bannister, fellows!"
Commencement was ended. The night before, on the stage of Alumni Hall,
before a vast audience of old Bannister grads, undergraduates, friends, and
relatives of the Seniors, the Class of 1919 had received its sheepskins,
and the "Go forth, my children, and live!" of its Alma Mater. T, Haviland
Hicks, Jr., and timorous little Theophilus had jointly delivered the
Valedictory, eight other Seniors, including Butch, Scoop, and the lengthy
Ichabod, had swayed the crowd with oratory. Kindly old Prexy, his voice
tremulous, had talked to them, as students, for the last time. The Class
Ode had been sung, the Class Shield unveiled, and then—Hicks and his
comrades of '19 were alumni!