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.