What, hire a hall ? that's old, you bummer !
Come, strike; go gull some other duffer.
Would like a smile ? Well, seeing it 's you,
I don't care if I do. Beer's good enough for me. The proctor crawls.
Aha ! my boy, that's into me ! Thy paper's glorious;
It takes the belt, it yanks the bun,
It carries off the immortal cake.
The President next declared that he had reserved something choice from the Poet Laureate, Mr. Alfred T-nnys-n. It was called
A FRAGMENT.At the Semis all the ponies in the Yard are on the trot;
At the Semis all the proctors are on hand the crib to spot;
At the Semis cunning Connors wants to give away a pup,
And each broke association hopes that you will ante-up.
At the Semis every bummer vows that he will make a brace;
At the Semis each professor looks quite careworn in the face.
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