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Freshman Class Supper

A good many class suppers have come and gone since that one, but when I think of
‘class supper’’ it calls up the picture of the class of nineteen-six in all its gayest plumage
as we marched into the dining room singing our dainty little rush song. The class of 1906
yes, but.as Mr. Broadbent told our illustrious president, ‘four years of concentration will
tell;” and it will be a sadder and a wiser class that meets this year; economizing in our
length of table, too. The festivities opened with strawberries and a short speech by Miss
Neall, the toast mistress, all listening eagerly for their own suggestions so pitifully request-
ed. Her speech, however, was original, very. In the pause after the applause, while we
more unfortunate ones were clutching at scribbly little pieces of paper, and trying not
to look nervous, Miss Neall rose again and told us we were to have a toast on men, All
eyes naturally were turned upon Kitty—from the West. To our great enlightenment
she talked on “Man as a Necessary Evil.’ Man hater? Kitty?’ No, indeed! She only
‘prefers not to have them around.’’’ Next Prince Henry, née Ruth Archebald, told us about
our Freshman Play. It was a splendid appreciation. I wish we had it now for the 1905
Class Book. The other speakers of the evening were Miss de Koven—I think Elsie remem-
bers that speech better than I do; Miss Richardson—I think we had the pleasure of two
from her, one on hockey and one to our class. I refrain from quotations lest she should
be planning to use them again this spring—perhaps at the Dean’s luncheon. They were
quite worth it.

Just as the atmosphere began to be too frivolous, Miss Harrington told us why she
came to college. Her toast was, I think, ‘‘My Success In Society.”’ It needed Miss Ford’s
and Miss Neall’s ‘‘Milliken Dance’’ to bring smiles back to our chubby countenances.
This is all that I can glean of ancient history. I have searched the college, asking for
information of the glorious clan itself, not of the on lookers—for “‘scarcely a man is yet
alive who remembers that famous day and year.’’ This invariably has been my answer:
‘Why yes, that was the night I wore my green with yellow spots and sat by Callie; toasts?

oh yes, so there were—good-bye.”
MARION HOUGHTON.

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