V the battalion PATRONIZE The EXCHANGE STORE In the Main Building. EVERYTHING REQUIRED BY THE CADET “At a Little more than cost” R. K. CHATHAM, Manager. WE WILL BE GLAD TO SUPPLY YOUR NEEDS IN JEWELRY, WATCHES AND DIAMONDS * We are headquarters for all kinds of Col lege Jewelry, R. V. Pins, T. Pins, Junior Pins, Senior Rings, Two Year Rings, and all kinds of Class Pins. FINE WATCH REPAIRING A SPECIALTY J. M. CALDWELL, Jeweler BRYAN, TEX. % • • Welcome TO STUDENTS - 6 —BY- CHAS. HITCH The Campus "1 ailor Cleaning—Pressing—Repairing Suits Made to Order. The Same Old Stand < • «• E. F. PARKS & CO. BRYAN’S BIG FURNITURE STORE We carry an unusually large stock of high class fur niture, rugs, draperies and household novelties. We are large buyers of second hand furniture, such as is used by the boys at A. and M.—desks, dressers, chif- foneers, chifforobes, etc. If you have anything you want to dispose of see us. WE ARE ALSO PHONOGRAPH HEADQUARTERS :: Styleplus Clothes Edwin Clapp Shoes Bostonian Shoes Stetson Hats Webb Bros :: BRYAN, TEXAS ************************** 5 OPTICAL PARLORS * Our fourteen years of practical ex- Jjt tA’ perience enables us to offer you the ■jlr best in our line. Conveniently Located in Masonic e. liently Located Building, Opposite Queen Theatre * Theatre -V ■***♦******+*++*******+**** WM. B. CLINE, M. D. Eye, Ear, Nose and Throat Specialist 4th Floor City National Bank Building, Bryan, Texas ❖ DR. A. BENBOW DENTIST Phones: Office 275, Res. 635 2nd Floor City National Bank Building, Bryan, Texas WANTED. A cottage or an apartment on the Campus for light housekeeping. Must make arrangements before the holi days. Major C. C. B. Warden, Staff Box, Campus. “GAME TO THE END” or ‘Fish Bass Takes to the Woods. ,: Turning back in the book of Time for only a few sheets, one may find a page that is blurred and blotted with tears that gushed from my own eyes with the inundating effect of a cloud burst. And to think that the day was Christmas eve! While the remainder of the world’s populace were rejoicing in and cele brating another Happy Yuletide, I was being plunged into the very depths of utter abandon and it seemed as if my mind, reeling and tottering upon its throne of sanity, would loosen from its moorings and that I would float helplessly down the rapids of mental disruption into the mael strom of Apostasy. Had not my best girl been given (in matrimony) as a Christmas pres ent to some guy who had a few oil- wells in his back-yard in place of shade trees ? If I had not paid my full tuition to Mr. Wipprecht, prob ably I would have gone down the above-mentioned rapids to Apostasy, but as that was out of my way, I decided that I could find solace and balm on a hunting trip and also, prob ably, a few squirrels. Anything to shun and avoid the wiles and subtle charms of perverse femininity. I bought two boxes of shells at the hardware store and on attempting to pay, received my first shell-shock since my discharge from the S. A. T. C. I received my shell-shock in the Mess Hall, but that is getting off the subject because this is not a treatise on poultry. This paragraph finds me out in the woods, but, as yet, I hadn’t found a thing to shoot. Try as I might I could not erase the indellible mark that an untrue woman had stamped upon my mental machinery. Had I not known her for three long weeks? Did she not tell me with her own sweet voice that I was a wonderful dancer? Had I not been true to her from the very first up to that dark, dank, doeful, dismal, and dreary day when some other guy commenced paying her board bill ? Bah! Frailty, thy name is Woman! I was on the point of losing my mind then, luckily, I changed it. I then sat down on a fallen tree. I was so nervous and eschewed that I took out my lunch and decided to end it all. Between bites I would think of the woman who had played me false, but I didn’t have much time to think. A lump was in my throat, but for tunately, the brook wasn’t dry. swallowed the lump in my throat I was still sitting—or rather, I was sitting still— when suddenly I heard a swamp squirrel scamper from his lair and pounce on a live peanut vine. Quickly raising my gun I shot and missed him; then I shot again and hit him in the sameplace. When the smoke cleared I missed him without even pulling the trigger. Walking over to the vine I searched, probably, for thirty-one minutes and didn’t find a dozen ripe peanuts. I tried to forget how I missed the untrue girl and the unknown squirrel by plunging deeper into the dense forest. I had not penetrated the thicket very far before my eye stum bled over some fresh rabbit tracks, etc. This put me on my guard so I quietly pulled a blind out of my hip- pocket and hid behind it. I also placed two easter eggs out in an open glade as decoys. Then I pulled out my rabbit-call and blew it. This grew tiresome so I hung it up and let the wind blow it. Suddenly I heard foot prints and peering from behind the blind, I saw a span of rabbits hop up to the decoys. They did not linger long because the decoys were hard- boiled. However, when they heard me listening they stopped and sat down on their—oh, yes!^—haunches. Something went wrong with my gun and I could put the shells in the magazine only periodically. I guess that was because they were paper shells. Twice the rabbits started off and I had to call them back with my rabbit-call. At last I fixed the gun and fired into the air to see if it was working right. It was, and when I drew a bead on the rabbits they were not there. Again I gave a few blasts on my rabbit-call and again the two rabbits single-footed into sight with a neigh bor rabbbit I had never seen before. It was a shame to shoot them where they were sitting but my aim was not as good as my intentions. I killed two of them and skinned the other one. I later skinned the other two. Quickly counting them, I stuffed them into my pocket and hastened to a nearby creek where I knew a few ducks would be ducking. I reached the creek about ten minutes ahead of time and, without delay, pulled my hip-boots out of my hip-pocket and hid myself in them. I let myself down into the water and waded out to where my vest pocket would have been if I had worn my vest. While I was mimicking and imita ting the ducks I slipped up on a log and down on myself. When I came up I looked like Jonah and for the ducks. I found a few dead ones that had laughed themselves to death when I slipped down accidentally. I didn’t fall down on purpose because the rab bits were in my hip-pocket. I was just about to leave when I heard a duck quack under his (or her) breath, and looking over my shoulder on the left hand side, I saw a whole covey of ducks paddling around in the water. Stepping behind a wild tamale bush I lifted my trusty shot gun to my shoulder and thirteen ducks bit the dust—I mean fourteen because it was a lucky shot. They bit the dust, however, because it was a dusty creek. In fact it is so muddy that, on a still day, duck-tracks sometimes float for miles down the creek. Pulling off my hip-boots I found a nice mess of fish, and stuck them in my hip-pocket. One of them weighed seven and a half pounds by his own scales. Now, gentle reader, do you suppose by that time I was thinkifig about the girl? Not on your life! I pulled a match out of my hip-pocket, struck it and lit out for home. PIONEER CITIZEN OWNS SOUVENIRS OF EARLY TEXAS HISTORY On the eve of the battle of San Jacinto two soldiers of Sam Houston’s forces visited the tent home of a pio neer party camped unknowingly on the border of the famous old field. With them they brought lead and bullet molds and sought a means of melting the metal to prepare ammunition for the morrow. Two young girls at the pioneer encampment obtained an iron bread spoon, melted and poured the lead for these young Texans. One of these girls was the grandmother of Colonel J. B. Dunn of the Wheelock vicinity, the community receiving its name from her father. The spoon had been brought along with other household goods from the Illinois home. Colonel Dunn now has the spoon which played such an important part in the early days when Texas history was in the making. A sena tor has stated that the old relic is worthy of an honored place in a museum but until the present time it has remained as a valued family pos session. A few days after the battle of San Jacinto, the family of Colonel Dunn’s grandfather was visited by a wounded soldier. With him he brought a Sheffield knife, taken in the battle, and which he had reason to believe belonged to Santa Anna himself. The knife with its shining double-edged Changing the course of ±h