The column moved brave Tompkins' ire, -
His Freshman soul was all on fire
To fling some insult back.
But as he climbs the treach'rous round,
It falls, and prostrate on the ground
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Lays Tompkins, on his back.
Yet as he lay, he cheer'd them on
Until both boys and poles were gone,
Until a peeler came and caught
Our hero where his hair was short:
"Je suis pince, I'm caught! oh, dom!"
Were the last words of gallant Tom.
MORAL.(In the manner of Mr. Gilbert.)
THE Praeses saw the youth next day,
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