26
THE BATTALION
•(and justly so), by your parents, friends and State.
Strive to sustain those expectations. Prove to be what
you seem to be.
There’s nothing under heaven so touchingly beautiful and
fit to be admired as ripe 3 r oung manhood, eager, polished and
brave, making ready to enter the work of an untried life.
This is the threshold—young men—over which you pause
.just now. ’Tis but natural for us to feel a concern and in
terest for your destiny. The Holy Scriptures, where ever
they tell of a good man tell also of his mother. Biographers
in eulogizing the deeds of heroes tell of his college days and
who were his classmates. Then may it be for us when many
years have passed, to point in pride to some mighty attain
ment of your little bahd and boast the connection, “He was
my fellow-student.” One after one, year after year, the
•classes have passed through the gate before you, many of
whom have climbed high up the mountains to success and
now watch your every effort with an interest and sympathy
like unto that of eager elder brothers.
Your is not the struggle of a friendless one in a world of
indifference. Things to be found out are without an end. So
are the undeveloped resources and industries of your State.
If you fail there’s no cruel voice to rabble over your down
fall. If you succeed, friends, institution and State will shout
you the praise of heroes
Looking backward it seems but a week or more since we
began our work as 1st and 2d classmen. The quiet autumn
had almost slipped away before we became accustomeu to
our new won ranks and classes. The dreary months of
winter found us plunged to the very depths of our studies.
Then came the spring with its flowers, green leaves and lazy
•dreams to steal our minds from the weary text book’s pages
and lose them in thoughts of home, sweethearts and holli-
days. At last, Commencement is upon us. The session has
gone.
In the bustle and stir of tomorrow’s packing trunks and
catching trains, we separate, never to be together in the capa-