"Since the early days of our class history, war, cruel war, has raged between the august bodies represented here to-day. On this very field many moons ago the gallant sophomores advanced upon the, then, very fresh freshmen, but retreated in wild confusion. It is therefore fitting that this should be the place chosen for the burial of all grudges, jealousies and unworthy emotions that formerly rent our breasts."
Here Julia paused to take breath.
The girls cheered wildly.
Julia bowed right and left, her hand over her heart. When the noise had subsided, she continued. She bewailed junior misdeeds and professed meek repentance. She dwelt upon the beauty of peace and she begged her hearers henceforth to live with each other amicably.
It was a capital address, delivered in a mock-serious manner that provoked mirth, and did more toward establishing general good feeling than any other method she might have tried. In closing she said:
"The hatchet is the symbol of war. The wheat-sheaf represents our elderly grudge; but the immortelles are the everlasting flowers of good will that spring from the planting of these two. We will now listen to a few remarks from the pride of the sophomore class, Assistant Master of Ceremonies Grace Harlowe."
Grace attempted to speak, but received an ovation that made her flush and laughingly put her hands over her ears. When she was finally allowed to proceed, she delivered an oration as flowery as that of the master of ceremonies.
When the cries of approbation evoked by Grace's oration had died away, it was announced that the "renowned elocutionist," Miss Anne Pierson, would recite a poem appropriate to the occasion. Anne accordingly recited "The Bridge of Sighs," done over by Julia Crosby, and beginning:
"Take it up gingerly;
Handle with care;
'Tis a relic of sophomore
And junior warfare."
The intense feeling with which Anne rendered this touching effusion, caused the master of ceremonies to sob audibly and lean so heavily upon her assistant for support that that dignified person almost pitched head first into the opening, and was saved from an ignominious tumble by one of her attendants. This was too much for the others, who, forgetting the solemnity of their office, shrieked with mirth, in which the spectators were not slow to join.