While Teddy was reading, Bess had seated herself at the piano. When he finished, she played the opening bars of “Fair Harvard,” as the boys rose, joined hands, and made a low bow to the audience. Then they began to sing.
“Dear friends, now this evening you’ve seen our I. I.,
And we leave you to judge of its work.
Of its many good times we will tell by and by;
For as pills under sugar coats lurk,
We must each do our work, ere we share in the play,
For such does our club make its rule ;
And many’s the lesson we learn day by day,
In this jolliest kind of a school.
We have wandered o’er many a subject ere this,
And our six months have been full well spent;
We no longer sit down and talk nonsense and fun.
For on learning we’re all of us bent.
So we solemnly talk of the pagans and worms,
Of minerals, planets, and snakes.
We speak of the glory of Washington’s fame.
Of cormorants, Zulus, and lakes.
But we all have a wish to impart from our store;
To improve those around us is kind;
So we’ve called you together, and made you a feast
Of crumbs from each overstocked mind.
And now, our dear friends, we thank you indeed.
Your attention has been most polite.
Six months from this time we’ll invite you again ;
In the mean time, we wish you good-night.”
