Judge — May 6, 1922 — page 17: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“He gurgled forth on high finance and how to make some cash. The Lights of Learning By Cuartes A. YEATMAN, Cornell ’23 IttustraTIoN By B. D. Apams, Cornell °23 Hello, Uncle Walt! I heard one rave, both his rules discreet and ditch the other bird ; the only bit of light he I plod along and never see a man who some prof's refrain upon’ the work re- gave shone from’ his glassy head. He shows the goods. The goops that lecture quired. gurgled forth on high finance and how to forth to me have lived within the woods Forsooth, I'd like to have a change from make some cash. He led a dizzy song and And so I'd like to sell my books for just all this dizzy grind. I long to roam some dance on earning daily hash. He talked a scad or two, and then I'd get my lusty mountain range and leave my books be- about the men of dough, of Morgan and his hooks on a ‘freighter passing through hind. There I'd live a life of ease, av e “Ten Things to For all this life has wearied me, and I THs college life gives pain, it The other ¢ makes me sick and tired; | always hear bald and underf from toil and care; I'd daily munch my iv the end of his harangue. would fain retire away from math. and bread and cheese and breathe in pure, t whiskered fogy thought for fair chemistry, and twang a mellow lyre. fresh air. And all the things that get my he'd made his stuff strike home. To me I'm sick of all this cultured creed on goat I'd give the down-turned thumb; my _ it seemed all heated air from but an empty works of Keats and Pope; for Heaven life, sequestered and remote, would not be dome. He might have gotten by at t knows I'd rather read some good Nick dour and glum. if he'd had coin to show. But a man Carter dope. I've listened long and had Whene'er I think of all that cheer, I whose bank account is flat can't talk to enough of gloomy profs. and deans. I'd beat my brow with rage; I'm sick of lec- me of dot Now if a fellow came along like to quit this lofty stuff and try some tures that I hear upon the Golden Age. who smoked two bit cheroots, I'd greatly pork and beans. The profs all have the same old spiel, they heed his worthy song and reap the golden — But, just the same, it seems to me I'll sling the same old tune. They talk of things fruits. I'd park my gum beneath my seat stick around a bit and try to rate an Arts and ways ideal all through the afternoon. and catch his every word; I'd follow out degree before I finally quit. AN ARITHMETICAL PROGRESSION Drawn by Hunch by 1 M. Stutts, JR, Carnegie Tech. S. Rerriier, Carnegie Tech. " Addition. Division.