Life — January 15, 1885 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

- LIFE: SOCIAL TORTURES NO. 6. T is said that in these milder, if not degenerate days, the | Freshman, on coming up to college, is treated with the greatest politeness and consideration. Whether the Sopho- mores ask the younger gentlemen to afternoon tea in their zsthetic studies to gossip over the abolition of foot-ball and the latest actress, we are not informed, but it is certain that the modern Freshman is not deluged with water from fifth- story windows, nor compelled to purchase expensive cigars and other things to drink for large crowds, as in the“days of yore. It may be that the new way is the better; certainly all fond parents must think so, for it is not pleasant to think that your rosy-cheeked boy is being tossed in a blanket by ruffians or pelted with anthracite coal by brutes. In the bad old days there was a Monday night, the first of 35 enact the part of “Captain Jack in the Lava Beds; an Inci- dent of the Modoc War,” to place his head under the hearth- rug and scratch for rats, or to jump and catch with his teeth a piece of rope fixed to the wall, this last called “ browsing ” by the delicate humorists. All the while the poor chap is burning for revenge and wishing that he had resisted, remembering the dark story of the Freshman who shot an invading Sophomore, and who was known as “ Murderer” ever after. After this gymnastic and dramatic performance, the tor- turers take their victim to the beér-cellar hard by the college- yard, where he is graciously permitted to regale them with many beers and with beautiful nickle-plated cigars of great price. One of the Sophomores boasts that he has a bureau- | drawer full of these costly regalias, all called from “ Umty- six,” while another protests that he has not drunk beer except A SHARP RAP AT THE DOOR, the term called “Bloody Monday,” a dreadful evening set apart for rushing, pounding and knocking the conceit out of Freshmen. This conceit, by the way, must have been annu- ally knocked out of the Freshmen and into the Sophomores, for it was never noticed by shrewd observers that the latter were conspicuously modest. After this night, the Freshman felt less conceited, perhaps, but more nervous. As he sat before his fire, reading his morrow’s lesson by his lamp, for the moment forming the picture which the maternal eye was making of him, his heart would leap into his throat at the shuffle of feet outside, fol- lowed by a sharp rap at the door. Arising from his seat, laying down his book, he admits the brutal throng. They seat themseves here and there, gaze contemptuously at the room and its occupant, and blow dense clouds of smoke from their huge pipes and not too fragrant cigars. “Freshy,” amid brutal jeers, is made to stand upon a chair and chant the “ Tabular View,” to get into his bath-tub and at the expense of a “—— Umty-six ” man for several days. Desperate brigands are these Sophomores, full of strange oaths and mysterious allusions to secret societies and diabolic mischief. There is an unholy lack of reverence about them, and a reckless abandon as they sing * “ Here's a cheer for Umty-five, She's the jolliest class alive, Full of every sort of jollity and fun.” Full of jollity and fun indeed! Of course they are, but the poor Umty-six man who is paying for their jollity and is the butt of their fun, how does he enjoy it? Many of us were Freshmen once and remember; those who have not been, may form some idea by undergoing a cross-examination by a brow-beating attorney, or by paying visit a to the dentist. “ DOING” the scales—giving short weight. comicbooks.com