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Senior Orator.

Junior Orator.

F. W. KITTREDGE. The elections were distinguished for their remarkable unanimity, the only contested office being Linonia's Vice Secretary. It was voted in Linonia to do away with Statement of Facts, which has been a mere farce for many years back, and consequently no orators were appointed for that occasion by the Society.

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Race for the Champion Flag. Agreeable to a challenge sent in to the Varuna Club by the Glyuna at the commencement of the term, a shell race for the possession of that precious little silken treasure, the Champion Flag, took place on Saturday the 6th. The day was most auspicious—the weather, the wind, and the tide being all “quite suited to the occasion,” and the attendance of spectators was certainly never greater, if as great, at any time within our recollection. Moreover the galaxy of beauty, afloat and ashore, was truly exhilarating; and, what with the wherries insinuating themselves everywhere, the barges lazily gliding to and fro, and the sail boats gracefully dodg. ing and chasing one another in all directions, the scene was as lively and pretty a one as we have viewed for many a day.

The race itself, also, was an unusually satisfactory one. For at the word "give way,” the eye was not presented with the unwelcome spectacle of a broken oar or two dragging its ungainly shape along, as the result of the first three or four hur. ried and almost frenzied strokes, or even of a provoking "crab" grabbing the oarblade of some incautious enthusiast, and marring the otherwise regular sweep and splash of its fellows; but on this memorable occasion not a rudder was unshipped, not an outrigger bent or broken, not a boat swamped, bumped the buoy, or, strange to say, even fouled its neighbor. The race was emphatically a fair one, with no accident to characterize it, and no crimination to follow it.

The three boats which participated in the contest were the Varuna, Glyuna and Nixie; arranged in the order named on a line with the Commodore's barge. All were off at the word; the Varuna with a beautiful start taking the lead, which she kept for some little time. Soon, owing partly at least to a deviation in her course, she was superseded by Glyuna, who maintained her position in the advance throughout the remainder of the course, winning the race in 19 m. 48 s., Varuna's time being 19 m. 55 s. The Nixie, failing to go round the buoy, and coming in the wrong side of the Commodore's boat, was ruled out and her time not taken. Each of the crews seemed to experience in a greater or less degree the want of a coxswain; and the system of having none, many and great as its advan. tages unquestionably are, appears to us to carry with it at least one disadvantage, viz., the uncertainty and almost impossibility of advancing by an uniformly direct motion toward the buoy, or the stake boat–especially on a race.

As the result of this contest Varuna consigns the Champion Flag to her successor, having for the space of a year battled for and kept it in the face of both her rivals. Let her victor do as well.

Editor's Table.



In accordance with a time-honored custom, it becomes our duty to stand up in a row, toe the mark, make our prettiest bow, and recite in concert something about

our staunch ship Maga;” but as we lack time and inclination to cram a set speech, and have neglected to procure swallow-tails for the occasion, we must deny you the pleasure of a rehearsal. There was one time-honored custom, however, which we did not pass over. Every Committee now-a-days must have its supper and why should not we? At the appointed time you may imagine the Board as seated around a well set table, with the Editors from '63, at the New Haven House. We did ample justice to the good cheer provided. In the largeness of our heart we wished you all were there; but in your absence enjoyed ourselves as best we might, in a way suitable to literary characters. When the wee hours of the morning had come, we started in a bee line for home. Oh! what an example to some Com. men, for report says that they walked as if they were in the surveying business, and having previously measured the road lengthways, were trying its breadth.

But here we are in the sanctum. There is something in the very word which inspires one with dread. We open the door, casting suspicious glances around, for we are superstitious and are afraid of devils. All is quiet, however. The first thing we do is to start down to the Post with a large-sized carpet bag for the numerous articles sent through that medium, so that we may select from them the most choice for your perusal. To our horror we find the box empty, so that we are deprived the privilege of exhibiting our sarcasm upon rejected contributions and their authors. We have put a detective on the watch, for we suspect that some of the “papers” are hooking our articles and making their reputation therefrom. Our next search is for the “chip-basket" from which to draw jokes and stories both new and old. A basket we find, indeed, and some shavings; but they are more woody than intellectual in their texture. We solace ourselves with the reflection that we were green to expect such things. Of course the basket we had heard so much about was our head. Time and again we sit down to the Editorial table in the Editorial chair, and wait for inspiration; but it was only such as Morpheus gives. “It was very like waiting for a watchman; when you want him you may wait all day, and never light upon him.” We have read somewhere that inspiration comes like water from a seemingly dry place, viz., by pumping. But our pump arraingement works no better than that of Divinity College. So we are fain to leave all our hopes of exciting your admiration by new coined jokes, and assume the character of historian and critic. Subject matter for remark is fortunately never wanting. We have not only our great occasions of state, but also our daily life, rich in interest. As the warm summer weather invites us out into the open air, the enthusiastic admirers of nature are improving their opportunities for excursions. Your Editor has often been envious when he has seen the walking boots put on, or the fishing tackle taken down, preparatory to some great exploit; and has almost been persuaded to overcome his laziness and join in the sport. He has also his time of triumph, when the tired and dusty pedestrian comes limping back with blistered feet; or the hungry fisherman, after having made great outlays in baits and boats, returns with a mongrel assortment of fish, varying in size from a darning-needle to a good sized angle worm, feeling as proud over his spoils as a kitten over its first mouse.

Then we have our boating clubs. How pretty they look with their blue shirts and pants girt 'round with a leathern belt, much resembling a dog's collar, upon which is registered his name and place. But the long walk to and from the water takes away all enthusiasm from most men after Freshman year. A spasmodic life seems to be given to boating on race days; but even this transient enthusiasm is usually dampened either by the rain or by some accident. Indeed, a majority of our races, to which we are glad to say the last was an exception, are unsatisfactory. The motto of most clubs seems to be "victory by foul means or fair." “That new boat house is going to reforın the Yale Navy;" as yet we can't see it. It does seem a pity that the harbors and the fields, in short, all nature's great outdoor gymnasium cannot be brought within a “Sabbath day's journey " of College. But seeing "'tis as 'tis," we can but admire their pluck, and wish success to those who are not to be discouraged by such difficulties.

It always was a pleasure to lie under the old elms, to smoke, and build aircastles, but alas, though the birds sing and fine days" are as plenty as old clothes, he who lounges upon the inviting grass, does so at his peril. Everything seems alive with worms. They occupy every leaf, and hang in festoons from the branches. You can feel them crush under your feet as you walk. They hang suspended over the walks by single threads, just high enough to light upon you as you pass. They occupy posts against which one is accustomed to lean. They accompany you to church and to dinner, leisurely measuring your length and breadth, and when they are done, perch impudently upon your shoulder for a

It does not require a very great stretch of imagination to see and feel them everywhere. Several times we have thought we detected a slight wriggling motion in our asparagus. Sometimes, in our zeal to remove these ungraceful appendages from the apparel of our young lady friends, we came very near enacting the tragedy of “Hodge and the Blue Bottle.” It has been suggested that there is a second “Diet of Worms." We crawl all over with fear for the result, but hope for a Reformation.

Our catalogue of eccentric visitors has been increased by the advent of the great Phrenologist, to whom Fowler and Wells are mere nobodies. His sojourn was brilliant but short. His rich delineations of character he considered too good to waste on isolated cases. He found remarkable similarity in all our heads, as if they had been candles run in the same mould. He had a peculiar faculty in finding protuberances in the posterior portion of the caput, with the same old speech thereupon, which soon getting played out, he sought new and unexplored regions.

The long procession, which takes its way twice a week to Alumni Hall, coupled with the great demand for Junior books, borrowed or stolen as the case may be, announces that the last days of ’63 among us have come. Our ears are molested with no night-wailings or tolling of bells in the morning, a change which every undergraduate roomer in College must hail with delight. The great question of class pictures, so long mooted, has resulted in an agreement to disagree. We have


some curiosity to see the class book made up of cartes and steel plates; it will look, we fancy, more strange than elegant.

The fence is still the favorite Senior resort, while Ajax, Achilles aud other Græcian heroes delight the assembled worthies in their contests for the prize. It calls to mind the feats of their great ancestors in wrestling, boxing and running, feats of which Homer sung.

We remember when we were small, how, when cold weather came, we used to drive the chickens from their airy out-door perches to warmer quarters in the henhouse. There always were some old roosters that persisted in sitting on the fence, in spite of consequences. The Faculty, in their praise-worthy attempts to make the right side of Chapel street passable by dispersing the squad of presented knees, which inspires such terror in the fair sex that have the courage to run the gauntlet, have also met with some old roosters, who, in spite of consequences, persist in keeping their old perch. Experience, however, has taught them discretion; they pursue the Fabian policy, modestly retiring as the enemy approaches, but resuming the old position when the danger is past. A few mornings since, the fence, the bone of contention, was found prostrate; as there was no wind on the previous night we were at a loss to account for it. It was suggested that it had been removed to give place to a new iron one; we have heard since, however, that the movement was rather premature. So the old fence has been patched up temporarily, while some fellows have been sent away for—the iron. There was once a sharp old detective, who lined his pockets with fish-hooks, assumed the air of a well-todo up-country gent, and made himself consipicuous in all crowds and gatherings. Of course he was looked upon by the fancy as a prize, and they were not slow in putting their hands in his pockets; the trap was so contrived that, while ingress was easy, egress was impossible. When his victim was secured, the officer would suggest a quiet walk to the nearest police-station. Like a skillful angler as he was, he sometimes caught two fish at a haul, one in each pocket. The idea occurs to us that if barbs were driven in the College fence, quite a fine and novel lot of game might be secured. We charge nothing for the suggestion. It is sad to think such painful measures must be resorted to, but they seem necessary if of (f)

fences come.

Our Junior boat, which has hitherto glided so lazily along, has struck a snag called Logic, and is unable to reckon its course by the stars, owing to an unpleasant optical delusion which distresses all the crew.

It remains to be seen whether dark Lectures cultivate best the intellectual or social qualities. Many seem disposed to mutiny, but after all are surprised at the amount of brains developed under their present treatment; as an example look at the following:--The intensiveness of concepts, man and tailor being under discussion, it was argued that the former embraced more than the latter, because “it takes nine tailors to make a man.” Quite a discussion also arose as to whether the distinction between a categorical and dogmatical judgment arises from the difference between the feline and canine species. Notwithstanding their arduous labors, the class is enjoying itself generally, only wishing Spoon Exhibition would come that they might take their girls to see it.

We are waiting anxiously for the Sophomores to come out with their Biennial hats. Hoping they will soon give us an opportunity to discuss some renowned exploit of theirs, we pass them hurriedly by, fearing to disturb their cramming.


We learn that the Freshmen are almost disgusted with Yale. Their sufferings during the first term they could endure, but the idea of giving up Powwow seems in the eyes of many, a sacrifice of their most cherished hopes. While we condole them, we would advise them to do nothing rash just to show their daring. The attempted suppression of “Burial of Euclid” was at first considered as an uncalled for and tyrannical act on the part of the Faculty, but the better and larger portion of College approves it to-day. Although we do not consider Powwow as vicious in itself, yet every man's observation bears witness that it is assuming a more and more objectionable character every year; taking more time in its preparation, more money to carry it on, and attended, as we believe, with a greater amount of dissipation than formerly. Students often speak of the Faculty in no flattering terms, yet we allow no one, not a Yalensian, to speak disparagingly of them.

The fact is, we all know that our instructors have the best interests of ourselves and the College at heart. While our Freshmen friends, then, may justly feel sorry to give up their jubilation, we honestly believe that they will, not many years hence, consider it as an honor to their class that they did away with one of our College barbarisms. We cannot help wishing that we had more opportunities of having a good time, such as Presentation and Spoon, and we think that one or more such legitimate public play-spells for each class, would do more for College morality than all the "Blue Laws” put in force again.

Trusting we shall have a pleasant voyage together throughout the year, and that you will not forget to walk up to the Captain's office and settle when the bell rings, we are your friends,

The usual exchanges have been received. We recommend “The Atlantic" and
“Vanity Fair” as peculiarly suited for College reading.

Several articles, designed for this number, have been remitted us at too late an
hour for publication, and will appear in our next issue. Soliciting your articles for
the Lit., we yet would kindly insist on receiving them during the third and first half
of the fourth week of each month.

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