“N—no, not exactly,” answered Jack cautiously. “I’ve got an idea, but I didn’t quite know about rhyming. Of course, all the poetry you read rhymes all through, like Tennyson, or else it doesn’t rhyme at all, like Milton. What I was wondering was whether it was all right to just rhyme now and then, you know, when you could, and not bother about it when you—you can’t. What do you think?”
“Oh, I’d just do the best I could and not worry,” answered the other gravely. “The—hum—sentiment seems to be the most important thing about college songs.”
“Yes, I suppose so. It’s funny how few rhymes there are when you come to look for them,” said Jack thoughtfully. “Now there’s ‘purple’; I can’t find anything to rhyme with that.”
“Purple? Now that does sound difficult. Let’s see; I guess ‘turtle’ wouldn’t do, eh?”
“I’m afraid not. I’ve tried everything. I thought maybe it wouldn’t matter if it didn’t rhyme.”
“Don’t believe it will. Let’s hear what you got.”
“Oh, it isn’t anything much,” answered Jack modestly. “It—it goes to the tune of ‘Hail, Columbia!’ you know.”
“All right; sing it if you’d rather.”
“I can’t sing; I’ll just say it. It—it begins like this:
Hail to Erskine, conq’ring band!
Firm together we will stand!
While the battle rages high
We will fight until the last!
Underneath the purple banner we
Will live or die for victory!