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Our Sophomore Class Supper

Our Sophomore Class supper! My memory tells me that there are three reasons for
not forgetting that festive repast; first, a dread of its coming; second, a fright I had in
the middle of it, and third, a good deal of regret felt after it was over and gone, Everyone
appreciates the depressing effect of the word “gone.”

My fright was no laughing matter. Even now at times there sweeps over me the same
horror that all but engulphed me, when, in the middle of the repast, between imbibings
of our very dangerous lemonade, I was asked to tell. a funny story. By the grace of Provi-
dence, or rather of our toast-mistress, Beth Harrington, five minutes for recovery was
granted, or I should have died from sheer blankness of mind.

But there will never be another Sophomore Supper. That is a thing quite gone, taking
with it all its pleasures. And it was the realization that we could only keep it one night
and that after it was over the great and glorious Class might never sit down altogether
at one board to eat the same lobster croquettes and ice-cream, and drink the same lemonade
with one cherry to every dozen glasses. At alt events, we seemed to have pretty strong
feelings for a while, for it was a serious matter for those of us who were not to come back,
and even those who planned to return to the guiding eye and tender voice of our Dean
were struck by a sense of the possibilities of finals or an untimely death from too much
butter at dinner.

We met at the front door of Pembroke West that memorable night and forming in
a long and solemn line, two by two, marched with much dignity past the well disciplined
class of 1907, into the hall, and found our places by means of cards, on the back of each
of which was an appropriate toast to the girl it named, the result of the destruction of much
brain tissue. The ‘‘curtain raiser’’ was a speech from the toast-mistress.

After this, with semi-occasional intervals for mouthfuls, toasts were asked of various
people. Esther White spoke very well on the toast subject of 1907, and Anna: Louise
Strong, with enthusiasm, on Fame. Elsie Biglow gave us a treat on that merry festival,
the College reception. Jessie Hewitt spoke with many amusing side remarks on a subject
very near to our hearts—Basket-ball. We renewed our youth by the refreshing sight
of Erma Kingsbacher’s dancing and by hearing Ethel de Koven sing the clock song. And
finally came the toast to our President, drunk with all possible enthusiasm, though with

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