Mame, resplendent but uncomfortable in the finery belonging to Landis, then appeared. She raised her head, straightened her shoulders, looking unutterably bored and weary, although self-confident enough for a score of such songs. But the instant her voice arose, the Seniors who had gotten together started to sing. Their voices filled the chapel, drowning out even the laughter and applause.
| “Where, oh, where are this year’s Seniors, Where, oh, where are this year’s Seniors, They are not in the cold, cold world. Every one sing for the grand old Seniors, Every one sing for the grand old Seniors, For they’re not in the cold, cold world.” |
The moment there was a lull, Miss Welch caught her own tune and started bravely on her song, only to be again drowned out. She did not give up. She sang in spite of all opposition, for the most part out of the tune. Then with the airs and manner of one who had succeeded beyond all expectations, she left the stage, in some disorder but not vanquished.
The pseudo Dr. Morgan then arose, and with the dignity born of her position and years, requested order, saying that if there was further interruption she must ask the watchmen present to expel the disturbing element. Her speech was a master stroke. Exeter then had a dozen special officers about the grounds and buildings. Most of them had never been in Dr. Morgan’s presence. Those in attendance, not understanding the state of affairs, took the request in good faith, believing that it was the real Dean of Exeter addressing them.
Then the farce which the Seniors had prepared was played.
Nancy, or the “boiled lobster,” as she had nicknamed herself, was last to appear.
She played on Nora O’Day’s guitar “The Spanish Cavalier,” the only selection she could pick out, and sang it in a weak, trembling soprano. Nora both sang and played well. Nancy, in her vivid orange gown, did her best. Her audience, by this time conscious that there was something amiss, could no longer be suppressed.
| “Oh, say, darling, say, When I’m far away, Some times you may think of me, dear—” |
“Could he ever think of anything else?” came in a stage-whisper from below. Every one heard, and every one smiled. Nancy sang on: