THE BATTALION.
haps two hundred crows enroute to a
fine watermelon held came by and
seeing the peculiar sight gathered
around. Now,, before Sport Crow’s
alarmed companion could explain mat
ters, the leader says: “That’s a new
kind of bird. We never were whip
ped in a fight by any thing that looked
like that, so now for him.” The whole
multitude filed on the unlucky Sport;
too foolish to think that taking off of
their chum’s feathers would change
him beyond recognition. In fact, they
didn't stop to think. Soon Sport Crow
lay dead, bruised and cut by a hun
dred blows, and the exultant crowd
subsided their noise to hear the speech
of flattery from their leader. He
would of course praise them for their
bravery in killing an unknown thing
something never seen by them before
that they remembered of. But out
stepped the Sport Crow’s chum, and
called their attention: Said he, “this is
our beloved friend, ‘Richard the Gay’
that you’ve killed. You didn’t recog
nize him when he had lost his fine
black suit and you rushed upon him
before I could prevent you.” Then he
told how “Old Man Owl” had caused
it all. and the multitude roared with
rage and swore eternal hatred to Brer
Owl and all his posterity.
HARRY GLEASON.
THE NOOK THAT IS HIDDEN. AN UNFORTUNATE CADET.
Who'll ramble with me to the valley wild
Where the nook that is hidden has violets first
And the birds with the breath of the spring are
beguiled ?
I shall never forget how Gwendolen smiled
When first on her gaze the ferny nook burst.
As she rambled with me to the valley wild.
’Twas a day when the wind grew suddenly wild.
Though March had before been meaning his
worst, ,
And the birds with the breath of the spring were
beguiled.
She rushed within it with the cry of a child
That has sprung to a stream when sorely
athirst.
When she rambled with me to the valley wild.
From my mountain land and my love exiled,
For many a year my thoughts have rehearsed
How the birds with the breath of the spring
were beguiled.
And now that I’m back and naught has defiled
The nook that is hidden with pleasures ac
curst,
Who’ll ramble with me to the valley wild
Where the birds with the breath of the spring
are beguiled?
His pony went dead and his gim went lame.
He lost six cushes in a crap game;
An extra came the next Saturday
And it took two hours of play away.
A headache came when that was gone
And at the Mess Hall he had to look on.
Then the field day collection came round
And charged him for not acting a clown;
Then Mr. Boyett came in view
And said he wanted his bills paid, too.
Did he moan and sigh?
Did ho sit and cry.
And cuss the extra now gone by?
Did he grieve that his old friends failed to call
When the collectors had taken all?
Never a word of blame he said
With all the troubles on top of his head.
Not he! He climbed to the top of the suckers’
row
Where extras are something they don’t know;
Bowing his head, here is what he said—
‘ ‘ I reckon it is time to get up and get,
But, Lord, I haven’t had the mumps yet. ”
D. B. and N. H., '01.
If a miss gets a kiss
And goes and tells her mother,
She’s a very naughty miss
And doesn't deserve another.—Ex.