A shiver ran down my back as the last chords of the Ivy Song were
played. It was actually a reality--our dream had come true for we were
at last garbed in those precious white robes for which we had been
striving for four years. Memories of these years rushed over me. How
burdened we were with our importance in being Freshmen; Seniors seemed
very old and distant. Suddenly we slipped from cock robins to
conscientious Sophomores. By this time rumors were heard of a
financial problem that we, as Juniors, must meet. Immediately we began
to save all our pennies in order to startle the Faculty and the
Seniors of 1925 with a luxurious Junior-Senior ball. So our Sophomore
year closed with many peeks into the class treasury.
Dancing, fortune telling, freaks, and so on, came to our rescue in
preparation for the J. S. We Juniors, as financiers, staged a Junior
carnival--and it was successful.
May the twenty-ninth, in the year of our Lord, one thousand-nine
hundred and twenty-five, was the red letter day of our Junior year.
Our hopes, not our fears, were realized. Gayly we danced to "Tea for
Two" in the green and white decked ballroom (alias the dining room)
and promenaded in a garden in Japan, otherwise the roof garden.
Sadly--ah, yes--the music hesitated and then ceased--as we unitedly
sighed, perhaps with relief, perhaps with weariness. Who knows? Our
Herculean task had passed, and our eyes were turned to the magnetic
red ties. Honored beyond recognition we were the first to abide in the
new Senior room, south-west parallel room 40, on the third floor. June
quickly slipped near and we fixed our hopes and ambitions on the now
approaching goal, graduation.