Football Rally

Armory full of rooters, "spirit" in the air,
Hawley's Famous Hundred, each upon a chair.
   
Number one is given-makes the rafters roar --
'Bout five hundred fellers shovin' through the door
   
Band-a-pIayin'--wildly, co-eds singin' high--
"Get off the steps you fellers and let the team get by."
   
Owen Frank and Shonka give their little spiels. Folks forget their studies? Gee, forget their meals.

Maxe ___'s on the platform--"I should like to say"--
Fresh_____ws come buttin' in "Rah, rah, rah, Hooray."
   
"As I was saying,' a a minute Maxey starts anew
Laws begin to yell again--awful hullaballoo.
   
Stiehm is called for. Condra, too, gives a word of cheer,
"We will win on Saturday, never have a fear."
   
Then again we sing a tune, whoop'er up on Four--
Noon bell rings-guys all rush to be first through the door.
   
Hats are smashed and books are lost, but who won if keep a tally?
Believe me, bo, to stir your blood, attend a football rally.
BURTIS.

Platonic Friendship

When Plato said, long years ago,
He thought it strictly proper
For boys and girls to be deep friends
He surely thought a whopper.
   
Not love, he said, but friendship, is
The thing we should enjoy,
And ever since, in Plato's name
Some girl has loved some boy.
   
And U of N is up-to-date
if Plato's doctrine measures,
For here we have Platonic friends
Who seek for learning's treasures.
   
For learning's treasures did you say?
Ask Dick if that's the reason
Cornelia follows him alway
Through cold and warmer season.
   
Oh, yes, she says they 're only friends
But friends are sometimes closer
Than those who any other name
Deny with snappy "No, sir."
   
Well, it's all right. Yes, Dick, old boy,
We know the friendly feeling
You have for one who, so she says,
Has never thought of stealing
   
That heart of yours. But we'll look out,
Cornelia, for there've been times, yes,
E'en some we know when girls like you
Their hearts did wrongly guess.

What's the Use?

What is the use of living when this life is     not worth while?
Man's day is brief; his life submerged     with-in the rank and file.
The Junior Hop has come and gone, the     Military Ball;
The football season's over, and the score     beyond recall.
The things you got upon the "tree" or in     your "hose," are soiled.
Vacation's but a memory--New Year         resolutions foiled.
The water pipes are frozen hard; we've     had stewed corn three meals;
There's slippery places on the walks, and     chilblains on my heels.
The melancholy days have come, the         saddest of the year--
It's up to you to "cram" all night;
    "exams" are nearly here.
WINIFRED EICHAR.