2
THE BATTALION
A MAN OF FAME.
Now Patrick Dwyer was a handsome
young s.;uire
From h's boots +o his pomaded
hair.
His well moulded chin to his smooth,
suave skin
Made his features full fetchingly
fair.
And his straight Roman nose, al
most gave him the pose
Of an ancient, Olympian god.
His optics were blue: a cerulean hue,
And they matched like two peas in
a pod.
But Pat’s assets stopped there, for
his skull was quite bare
Of the gray stuff that brings in
the cash.
And he spent all his scads on mere
frivolous fads
That amounted to nothing but
trash.
And he’d oft’ hie away in some wild
cabaret,
At times when most folks were in
bed.
For like other poor fish, his only am-
bish
Was to smear the old village with
red.
And the thrifty folk sighed at his
peacock-like pride,
And shook their wise heads in dis
may.
They predicted that good never pos
sibly could
Come of Patrick’s wild, spend
thrift way.
And they whispered it low that in
time he would go
To the poor house, or even the
jail;
For they made it quite plain that
a man who’s so vain
Can’t help but emphatically fail.
But as years went along folks saw
they were wrong,
For Pat never did beg for bread;
Yes, they had the wrong dope when
they gave him no hope
Of a glorious future ahead.
For street cars now all have his face
on the wall
In plain sight of the strap-hanging
lads;
And hi featmes are seer in each
new magazine—
Since he poses for stiff collar ads.
a.m .c.
After Mr. Brown had raked his yard
he took the accumulated rubbish into
the street to burn. A number of neigh
bors’ children came flocking about the
bonfire, among them a ilttle girl whom
Mr. Brown did not remember having
seen before. Wishing, with his unual
kindliness, to make the stranger feel
at ease, he beamed upon her and said,
heartily:
“Hellow! Isn’t this a new face?”
A deep red suffused her freckles.
“No,” she stammered, “it ain’t new.
It’s just been washed.”
A.M.C.
An elephant once, in Brazil,
Tried hard a mosquito to kill;
But it jumped on his back
And hid in a crack,
And it’s probably hiding there
still.
A.M.C.
Oh, Fiddlesticks.
A young theolog named Fiddle,
Refused to take his degree.
He declared he would rather be Fid
dle
Than ever be Fiddle-dee-dee.
A.M.C.
“I hate to be a kicker and generally
stand for peace, but the wheel that
does the squeaking is the wheel that
gets the grease.”
Some Fine
Spring Suits
$35
You will get into the spirit of the
Spring Season with one of these
suits. You’re bound to. They
are refreshing in weight, style,
and value.
A. M. WALDROP & CO.
The Store for Young Men.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIklllHIIIIIIIUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIM
This is the ONLY Cafe I
m
THAT ADVERTISES IN The Battalion.
Show Your Appreciation
by Fating at the
Brazos Cafe I
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Illllllh7=
Holmes Brothers
CONFECTION EE R Y
The other night
I went over to the city
of school to
fill a date with that st
eady of mine. And
when I had knocked on the
door for about fif
teen minutes, the Madam ca
me to the door
and told me Gladys was out
visiting and
would be back in about
half an hour, so I
waited around the house
until I had the
telephone ague. Then I
decided to try
some other place. I crank
ed the phone and
caught a Jitney and went
over to see one of
the flames of my Freshman
days. She didn’t have
a date on account of having
started out too ear
ly. After listening to her
almost forgotton line
of chatter I soon ceased wond
ering about the
broken date. The next morn
ing at noon The Bally
hoo in the Mess Hall read
out my name for a
phone call. As I had ex
pected it was Gladys
and. she said that she was
very sorry about
the date, but that she had
spent the night
with Jane and had tried to
get me on the phone,
but the line was out of or-
deSo I laughed
and told her that it was
alright, ’s funny.
Jane was that girl I had
gone to see that
nigh;.
“THANK GOODNESS BRUNO’S
GONE HOME.”
A.M.C.
Pay At the Door.
First Student: “Did you see that
free-for-all flight at the dance the
other night?”
Second Student: “No, it cost me
a dollar.”
A.M C.
He: “I think there is something
dovelike about you.”
She: “Not really!”
He: “Sure. You’re pigeon-toed!”
—Drexard.
—A.M .C.
Little Johnny Burns sat on a stove,
Little Johnny Burns.
Little Johnny Burns did not go to
heaven,
Little Johnny Burns.
A.M.C.
“I wonder if my little boy knows
how many seconds there are in a min
ute?”
“Do you mean a real minute, moth
er, or one of those great big wait-a-
I minutes ?”
The Home of the Beet Malted
Milks
Fresh line of o
Candies, Cigars and Tobaccos <»
Always on Hand. Cadets and
Campus People are invited to < ►
Our Place. < ►
^ r^| i^> ij
A Warm Welcome
AWAITS YOU AT
The Elite Confectionerv
CADET HEADQUARTERS
Fountain Drinks, Confections, Fine Candies, Cigarettes and
Tobaccos