THE BATTALION.
19
nnpropitious circumstances and with
such ill-assorted material succeeded
in bringing order out of chaos and in
establishing at least a good literary
school, will always redound to their
credit and will secure them the grati
tude of all who value this institution.
When Christmas had come and passed
it seemed as if every one of our little
band had brought back with him a
friend from his boyhood home. When
the spring term opened 130 students
had been enrolled, two companies were
formed and mess hall had to serve as
a domitory once more. On the first
day of the second session at least 250
young men came here for matricula
tion, a battalion of four companies
was organized and while wooden bar
racks were put up in hot haste, we
were left, if not “three in a bed.” at
least sadly cramped for room. This
phenomenal increase in attendance
could not have been due to the hand
some gray uniforms and Texas but
tons, that we had paraded over the
State in vacation, but to the apprecia
tion of the fad that a great institution
of learning had arisen in the land.
When you think of the college as we
saw it today, of its many stately and
attractive buildings, its machine shops,
its dairy, its natatorium. its library
and its physical and chemical labora
tories, its score of teachers, all care
fully trained for their special line of
work, when you view the campus
beautified by all the arts of the land
scape gardener, where countless birds
build their nests and chant their morn
ing carols, and then compare it with
the brown and somber plain that we
saw twenty-three years ago, with a
mere ‘corporal's guard of students
wearily exploring the mysteries
“fours rights” and “right wheel,” per
haps at the very spot where Assembly
Hall shelters you to-day, you may
find it difficult to link the two together
and call them one.
But with those, who knew the col
lege thep and loved it, it is different.
While we may rejoice in the changes
that have been accomplished, stronger
by far than the sensation of contrast,
arises that of versimilitude. When
you meet a aueenly woman and ad
mire her charms, you may find it hard
to realize that in days gone by she
was a freckle-faced harum-scarum
little girl who liked to throw dig
nity to the winds and could out-
romp the wildest of the boys: but
those who knew her then, and loved
her, will still discover in her face
and voice and bearing traces of her
former self which neither time nor
boarding school nor the responsibili
ties of life could efface.
Not only the “Main Building,” the
“Old Mess Hall” and a few houses
“down the line” are left to remind us
of the past, but living men tell us.
louder than works of brick and mor
tar, that the “Old College” has not en
tirely passed away. As I go out
among your students, it is not only by
similar caps and buttons, nor by some
strangely familiar phrases of “college
slang” that have stood the test of
time, nor by the same fondness for
ice cream and the command of “break
ranks” I recognize that they are now,
what we have been—our younger
brothers, I see among them the same
esprit du corps, the same good fel
lowship, the same manly bearing, the
same impulsive contempt for coward
ice, or cant, that were distinctive of
their predecessors. I see all these and
I know r without the asking, that they
would answer a call to rise to the