Serve to make Indians ill;
Like a silvery fish's fin
Make our center, C. R. Glynn;
Give the strength of Harvard's image
To our bruisers as they scrimmage.
Make the soup thick and hot
As we journey to Hanover spot
All thereto a scalp of Green
To the ingredients of our tureen.
All: Double Dartmouth trouble;
Fire burn and Crimson bubble.
(Enter Hecate Harlow.)
Harlow: "O, well done. I commend your brew,
Now we'll tramp le Dartmouth in the dew.
And now about the Crimson cheer
We'll get a bowl bid come New Year
I smell the nectar of a Rose so sweet
If we go all season without defeat."
Lay on, McLaughry;
Let's have no fuss with Tuss.