170 THE BOOK OF THE CLASS OF NINETEEN-ELEVEN
To educate the reader to a sympathetic understanding of the delightful naiveté of thought
and habit which stamps the Club, I am copying some of the daily jottings and poems taken
from the Log, as written by the various members, hoping thus to make our readers feel that
charming intimité so characteristic of the Club.
Minutes or THE Hyena Cvs.
April 12th—M. Higginson missing—on a still-hunt for a hat. “Uneasy lies the lass
without a lid.” Quotations from W. Shakespeare.
April 13th.—Attendance poor. “Seal” sporting in New York waters. Other members
bowed beneath Lenten penance. No Good Friday cut! The Dog-Face Walker looks
moth-eaten and our President is sad. Weather uncertain.
April 14th.—Leila in Baltimore. “Seal” in New York. Dog-Face missing. Club
depleted. Weather raw, generally mangy.
April 20th.—Full attendance and a few statistics in club weights:
PR oo oc os cueeasecse 130 Ibs
Mc. . . sou ncdea aes 8.
De Be sn os ov ces ce 1c |.
Hig eae 338: *
“€or 135 “
OS ep See a eae 182 “
pr ree 78 6 *
April 21st.—Club all here—scared to death—questions fired at them. Hig and Seal a
credit to the Club. Are too smart. No intelligence allowed. A committee will wait on
them to remonstrate.
April 24th.—R. C. Prod Hyena took these notes—Dog-Face absent, consequent gloom.
Seal again looking intelligent. Something must be done to her. Schmidt the Pig lurking
in the distance. Hig Hyena has caught the “Earnest Student Germ,” very contageous.
Fearful excitement. M. P. swearing and pounding! She is now calling herself a “luxury
good,” in the same class with pianolas. Violent again! Hyenas distinctly nervous. Slam
at dogs. She urges us to save in order to buy a sausage. Hyenas bristling. M. P. says
she won’t be happy in Heaven,—very assuming I should say. M. P. has just broken her
eighth piece of chalk. Economically wasteful!
Here is a sample of one of the more serious pieces of the Hyena literature. It is a dirge
written by L. H. and A. M. W. to the tune of Here We Come, to be sung with a long howl
at the end of each stanza:
