“Milly said” that we had just as good a team as they, or “ Milly said” that we must
never once stop fighting. When Milly said, 1922 did, so although our fighting was
perhaps a little primitive, we managed to beat 1921 in our Freshman year, a feat
never thereafter repeated in any field of sport.

Sophomore year we were still reliant on Milly’s pre-contest harangues and it
was always with her words burning in our ears that we staggered forth to do battle.
“1922 if you don’t win to-day every one of you has a yellow streak down the
middle of your back.” If it had not been for these exhortations from The Om-
niscient, we might never have had the experience of winning our way into every
finals, only to find when we got there that our ‘Red Complex” was too strong for
even Milly’s indomitable motive power.

It was Milly who told us that we must sing better than any other class, and who
smiled at us when we continued to sing worse. We went to meetings even unto the
third degree because Milly always went, and inspired by her example we formed the
major part of every assembly—literary, political, or academic.

With no disrespect, but merely to indicate the intensity of the passion with
which we so inadequately repaid our tutelary divinity, we recall a night of Cherry
Blossom era when ’22 has been singing under ’20’s windows. ’20’s answering song
becomes faint—almost inaudible;

Reenie: “‘What’s the matter?’

Liz: “Shut up, you fool, can’t you hear? Milly’s voice is breaking with sobs.’

Grace Ruoaps. |
Emity ANDERSON.

,

,

I wish I had a little team—
A lower one, of course—

‘Cause it would look so strange on bars,
So funny on a horse.

I wouldn’t ever let it sleep.
I wouldn’t let it eat.

I'd work that team for a little class point
And make it win the meet.

19