THE BATTALION.
VOL. 7. COLLEGE STATION, TEXAS, DECE/ABER, ’99. NO. 3.
THE BATTALION.
Entered at tbe College Station Post Office as
second-class mail matter.
Published monthly by the Austin and Calli-
opean Literary Societies of the A. & M.
College.
Subscription—$1 00 per annum in advance.
STAFF.
R. B. Boettcher. ’00 Business Manager.
C. P. Rogers.
Hal Moseley,
O. M Simpson. ’00 Editor in Chief.
J.' A. Carter,’ ’00 | Editors Literary Dept.
Wm. Walden. ’00 Editor Agricultural Dept.
F. K. McGinnis, ’00 .Editor Horticultural Dept.
W. S. Bryan. ’00 Ed. Mechanical Elng. Dept.
W. C. Luhrsen. ’00 Ed. Civil Eng. Dept
T. W. Griffiths, ’00 Ed. Military Dept.
A. Winkler, ’00 t c u ,
R. B. Boettcher, ’00 ( Editors Exchange Dept.
Hal^cxsS'eyT’Ob <)0 i -Editors Athletic Dept.
C. E. Story, Editor Local Dept.
J. C. Harrison. Editor Social Dept.
F. Marian Law, Editor Alumni Dept.
’00
’00
Assistants.
Address all communications to Business Mgr.
All is quiet on the campus. Not a
storm-cloud threatens our peace, but
cheerful sunshine comes peeping down
to warm our hearts and gladden the
long days. Every now and then you
can see a stray cloud drift across the
sky, but it has no appearance of ap
proaching danger about it. In the dis
tance you can see the woods that once
were green, but mow have the dull,
dead look of Winter, which shows
that old Jack Frost has made his an
nual visit. Here and there a little
bird twitters among the branches and
pours forth from its tiny throat melo
dies that hold one spellbound. Far
over the hills old Sol is gently sink
ing to rest. How beautiful he looks
in all his glory, and how his last rays
linger on the hill-tops as if they long
to remain there forever. Finally they
disappear, and all that is left in the
far west is the red tinge in the sky
just above the horizon. It fades into
a lighter shade, then one by one
come peeping through the blue veil
of the sky little, bright, sparkling-
specks of fire, until the blue lid seems
to be decked with diamonds. The
breeze blows softly by, wafting on its
wings the perfumes of a thousand
flowers; over yonder stand a group of
boys dressed in grey; over here an
other, and there another; yonder are
five or six young ladies, surrounded
by several grey uniforms, who are do
ing their best to hold the young la
dies’ attention; in the far east a ball
of fire is seen rising. How it glitters
as it forces its way up inch by inch,
foot by foot, till finally it bursts into
full view, and the queen of the night
spreads her gentle rays over our loved
land. How lovely she is as she rides
through space; with what ease she
opens Love’s flood-gates and lets the
sweet passions flow through. All stop
on their journey and with folded
hands watch the lovely scene; not a
sound breaks the sacred silence; all
nature seems to worship this match
less beauty. What lover could wish