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About The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current | View Entire Issue (April 29, 1920)
THE BATTALION 21 t i ■? '? V* *i* T r v } '4 t 4 NEW SPRING SUITS For Young Men Come in and let us show you through our large stock. You’ll see the newest and smartest spring styles for young men in single and double breasted models with or without belts, made by such famous makers as Hart Schaffner Marx and Society Brand and priced much lower than you would pay in the larger towns. New Spring Suits at $35, $40, $50 NEW SPRING SHIRTS. In a wonderful collection of new spring and summer patterns in mad ras, pongee, silk stripes, fibers and pure silks. $3.00, $4.00, $5 up to $13.00 NEW SPRING HATS. Felts or straws in the smartest spring and summer styles. All shapes and colors to choose from. $3.00, $6.00, $7.50 New spring neckwear, silk and lisle half-hose, light weight underwear, caps, oxfords, etc. A. M. 'Waldrop <S^ Co. THE STORE FOR YOUNG MEN Copyright 1919.IIartSchaffner&Marj t t | V ! I ! T I I 1 T £ ± T f T T V i V T T T 1 I I ± t T t X T t T T t f X x ❖ OWED TO COMPANY “B” FROM C. I. A. (C. I. A. seems to raise poets as well as cooks. We are not responsible for the source of what follows below. It may have come from C. I. A. and it may have come from Mitchell Hall. But the letter was postmarked “Den ton.”) Here goes to write a letter In a funny sort of style The form and what we have to say Will doubtless make you smile. Please note the newsy items And the things I wish to tell. And string it out in measures In form of doggerel. There’s a company at A. and M. Where pure manhood blooms. Whose students drink spiked Bevo, With a goodly dish of prunes. Whose characters are varied, Some eccentric and some queer, Some are from the nearby hamlets, Some are there from far and near. There is one who merits mention In these line of doggerel The great and noble Fason And how the poor gink fell For those wonderful clad maidens One, “A diamond in the rough,” Who are dubbed in Company “B” As keen women, but some tough. With mighty chest thrown outward And chin drawn slightly in, He looks proudly from his picture With a grave judicious grin. A society bug he seems to be, And him you must not snub, Because he is a Corporal And IS the Waco Club. Here’s Trotti from Italy As pure as the day he was boim But while in New York, the dear lit tle lamb By a beautiful woman was shorn. Around this lovely seductress His ‘battle scarred arms he did twine’ But Fate alone we can blame For his ‘blood was boiling with wine.’ But now we must forgive him In view of his advice To all the girls in this wicked world Who are tempted to “entice.” Mae Williams says she likes him But all know her reasons are She knows full well, but hates to tell This young man’s been afar. And here’s a drop to Fish Keeton The eldest of them all, Here’s hoping that his roomy Sling him out of Mitchell Hall. So he’s someone else’s Loving Fish ’23 Well, I believe what you say, kid But she puzzles me. And now for Connie Tipsy: His wig goes upside down He seems to think he knows a lot With learning most profound. Miss Joyce says that Tips is sweet And this she ’oft repeats, Yet says she means the opposit From what she always speaks. Jerry says that she hates Trent By all the Saints above, And yet she says she knows that hate Is the nearest mood to love. Says Ego is his middle name With sense of self so full, Sometimes she calls his “reprobate” And sometimes “Sitting Bull.” This letter would not be complete Without a word to Baumer (Bummer) The substance of his catalogue Sure put us on the hummer. He says he is an old rounder But we have come to think That a Mary-go-rounder was the founder And not the Curse of Drink. Last week while down in Bryan To catch the northbound train I lamped old Willis Fiser, A gallant looking swain. I cannot fit the meter and Make the verses rhyme So we’ll finish up with Fiser And sing the sert another time. Well Company “B” we’ve said About all we can think to tell This thing of writing verses Is simply hard as—well, We know that we’d do better With Trotti at our side. And, Oh, that he could come, ere long And with us all abide. We started out just splendidly, But my mind now seems to be All muddled up and drifting Like a derelict at sea. Joyce, Mae and Jerry. ’22 ENEMY TO OUR FRONT! Tuesday was spent in showing the government inspectors how well we could drill on the drill field and on Sbisa’s hash, but it required a sec ond day to convince them that we were real military geniuses in the field. Tuesday was filled with squads east, squads west, and squads right front into line, with bayonet practice, cal isthenics, tactical walks, extended or der, and tent pitching as resserts, but what did that hot Wednesday sun bring with it? The first notes of reveille were not much like music, for we were tired from the previous day’s exertion. Reveille exercises in double time finally awakened us, and then the thrilling words were passed along that A. and M. was threatened by the Reds from the south! We had never had a real enemy over here, but nev ertheless, the safety of the college with its millions invested and Bryan with girls that can’t be bested rested upon the shoulders of every A. and M. cadet. We quickly threw away the idea that our enemy was only im aginary and replaced that idea with one of reality, and immediately con centrated our forces on the military walk and moved out in strict military formations to meet the enemy half way, expecting to come out victor ious with our four arms—infantry, signal corps, artillery, and cavalry. We moved out just ’steen miles south of college towards cool Gal veston against a hot, heavy south wind concentrated with sand. Finally we halted and lay in wait for the enemy until we began to feel slightly lighter in our abdominal region; but that mental stress was finally reliev ed by the glad tidings that the Reds had given up their plan, had been smitten by the right hand of God, or that they feared the A. and M. phy sique behind the guns—anyway it meant that we were not going to miss soupee.