I wonder if ever there will come a day
When a Prof. might smile and kindly say,
"You're doing fine! And I'm satisfied
That every one in the class has tried!"

I wonder if ever 'twill come to pass
That Dales will be on time for class
That Professor Gass gives a whole class "E."
And Fossler flunks only thirty-three!

Will the day ever come to us--Gee whizz!
When Chem I people forget to quiz.
When Professor Bessey strolls in to say
"Clear out! We won't have 'Lab' today!"

Tell me, will there ever be a time
When your work's all done and you 're feeling prime,
When drill's called off and the girls' Gym's thru,
And bench work's all there's left to do!

The day may come, but it would be rare.
When Engberg, the Bald, forgets to glare.
When the Delinquent Com. calls up in glee,
And urges you out to a Faculty Tea!

The day may dawn, as Spring comes nigh,
When you hear the fellows shouting by,
And you grab your hat, with a knowing hunch
To beat it off with the rest o' the bunch!
These days may come and you may see!
But they never, never came to me!
G. RYAN.

The Grinds

   Scene--Represents University Hall in background.
   Tramp of Grinds going to school is heard on stage before rising of curtain. At rise of curtain the chorus of Grinds enters. With heads bowed and shoulders stooping, their weazened, "bespec. tacled" faces exhibiting various stages of decay, and their emaciated forms weighed down by the ponderous tomes they are carrying, they plod slowly out before the glare of the footlights. Sad music from the orchestra.
 Grinds (Singing)--
Oh we're the prides of all our Profs,
Our grades are always "E,"
All sociable frivolities
We shun persistently.
From Podunkville to Omaha,
From Texas to Alaska,
We come, with fevered mind athirst
For knowledge, to "Nebraska."


Chorus--Grind, grind, grind,
It's training for the mind.
Geometry, geology,
Until we all go blind.
The theory of molecules,
Or sociology.
We 're working for a "Kappa,"
And a Ph.D.
  Enter Prof. Engberg (very hastily, He wears house slippers and is hatless.)
  Grinds--Good morning, Professor Engberg.
  Prof. E--Any of you fellows back in your studies?
  Grinds--Ah no. heaven forbid.
  Prof. E (departing)--Good night!
  Grinds--Why Professor, what is the matter?
  Prof. E--Matter? Why you fellows are students and I don't want anything to do with you. As far as I am concerned. you are not on earth. My work is with the gentlemen of leisure. Stand back. I say, and let me pass.
  Grinds--You don't want anything to do with students?
  Prof. E--No, you're getting entirely too numerous around here to suit me. I don't know what has become of all the old "scouts" who used to flunk fifteen hours regularly every semester. Goodness knows, I treated them right. They were dead game sports, not mollycoddles like you (starts off again).

  Grinds (with tears)--Why do you treat as thusly?
  Prof. E (kicks up his heels and warbles sarcastically)
  Oh, tra-la-la, Oh. tra-la-la As you can plainly see,
The sluffer is the gentleman
Who causes work for me.
   (A bitter laugh escapes his lips as he goes out. The Grinds shudder.)
   1st Grind--Boys, I have a hold suggestion to make. Let us all sluff something this week and thereby help Mr. Engberg.
   Grinds (lay their books slowly upon the ground, then clap their hands)--Oh goody-goody. What shall we sluff?
   1st Grind--I have it, we'll all pretend not to know our Greek lesson tomorrow.
   Grinds--Of course. We will really know it.
   1st Grind--Oh certainly, we'll prepare it just the same.
   Grinds--Oh goody-goody. What a joke on the Faculty.
   2d Grind--But consider a moment what this rash procedure might mean to our lives. It will deduct from our grades.
   Grinds--Oh heavens, we never thought of that.
   2d Grind--And it might affect our Phi Beta Kappa.
   Grinds (picking up their books solemnly)--Then we can't consider such a thing. (File off, singing sadly:)
We're working for a "Kappa"
And a Ph.D.