THE BOOKiOF THE CLASS OF NINETEEN-ELEVEN 171
=o ——_—_—_ _ _— — _ LL > > ————_
‘Here we come
We couldn’t make things hum
We're the sick and feeble-minded of
Bryn Mawr.
Memory? No!
Forever cursed we go
We can ne’er be any better than we are.”
“Pathetic but true,”’ says the Dog-Face Walker in a foot-note.
May 4th.—Day set for reports. Club shudders with fright and cold.
“Cold of foot and sad of eye
Miserari: hear us cry!”
May 5th.—Attendance good—only an alien is forcing her way in medias Hyenas.
The R. C. Prod. Hyena has a stiff neck. Weather good.
May 8th.—Schmidt the Pig-iron man gets spoke of from the platform.
Hyena Lullaby inspired by the lecture and written by L. H. and M. S. to commenorate
a joke made at expense of M. S. at table some days previous, when in a lapsus mentis M. S.
is stated to have said that M. P. used her fingers to pick up her notes “just like a hand.”
I.
Sleep, Hyena, Sleep,
While minutes slowly creep.
M. P. she is the shepherdess
And can’t stop talking yet I guess,
So sleep, Hyena, sleep!
Il.
Rest, Hyena, rest,
This state for you is best,
Your little brains can never grasp
The “Pentagons”* M. P. doth clasp,
“Just like a hand!”
* Some kind of an economic diagram the Club couldn't master.
