HARPER, CLASS OF '46

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 363, 23 April 1903, Page 8

HARPER, CLASS OF '46

"T WONDER if any of my old gang I will be back to the celebration of that double centennial celebration." ?a:d Harper, class of '46. Harper, "4'>, is a, little stewed-up old tn3n, with a pink face and beautiful curly white side whiskers. Harper weighs 118 in active training at the present time, and he wabbles badly when he walks. He was talking to his grand Eon, 'O6, who left the other day for New Haven. "1 got cut my old files of the 'Lit' the oihtr day." said Harper, '46, "and I noticed, by the gods, sir, that Harper, '46, won the running high jump at the field day exercises in '45. His mark was five feet ten inches. It takes a pretty good man to beat that, even to-day, sir. Harper, '46, won the running, broad, too. He jumped IS feet ten inches ou the level. That's been beaten often since. I understand, but when I was jumping they didn't have any pneumatic sulkies or any of these new-fangled contrivances. Why, there ain't a horse alive to-day that could catch old Flora Temple in her prime. Records? Of course. But they are made by the aid of all sorts of mechanical contrivances. We jumped and trotted on the level in the old days. Why. 1 believe that even now I could go out and make some of these cigarette-smoking athletes look foolish." The old man, leaning heavily on his sane, skipped across the room with all the lightness and airy grace of an animated statue. "When you get down to New Haven," he went on, "I want you to see if old 'Janitor John' is still- alive. The last titne I saw him was in *46. He was a young fellow of 55 or 60 then. Did I ever tell you about the time we hoys put up the famous skeleton job on him?" The grandson smiled sympathetically. He had heard the tale on an average of once a month for 15 years. But this was a special occasion. Besides, grandfather had an estate valued at s.'joo,ooo which would be left to somebody, sooner or later. "Why, no, grandpa," he said. "What was it?" "Well, you see, in those dayß," the old man went on joyfully, "they only had one skeleton in the physiological laboratory. A lot of us ymng chaps broke into the laboratory one night and stole the skeleton. We called it 'the colonel,' and we were all anxious to put up a job on 'Prof. Billy.' He was the head of the natural science department then. I suppose he's in the same old chair, still,- eh? Well, we took the skeleton out—'Piggy' Ralston and I—Piggy's a United senator, now—and we climbed the tallest elm on the campus. We tied the colonel up in the tiptop branches of the elm where every chap who came down the board walk would see It, when the bell rang for morning chapel. But 'Janitor John'—l've always believed the little old cuss was a mind reader—got up before five o'clock that morning and cut down the colonel before any of us had got • glimpse of him. "We sat up nights trying to figure out how we'd beat 'Janitor John' out, •nd finally "Piggy'—he was the rich man of the class with an allowance of SSO a month—he spent $1.50 for a padlock, and we borrowed a log chain from a man who lived out on the old Turtle road. We took the colonel up to the same old place and chained him to a branch six inches thick. Then we padlocked the two ends of the chain together and threw away the key.. We were sure that would fool old John, but we sat up all the rest of the night to see what would come of it. "Along about four o'clock old Janitor John came down along the walk, looking up in the tops of the trees. When he came to the colonel's elm he stopped, took off his coat, pulled a couple of big files out of his pocket, and shinned up the tree like a monkey. In less than two minutes be was busy filing away at the log cabin chain, and long before it was time to ring the first bell (pr ahapel *e colonel was back again in his flaes case in 'Prof. BilleyV laboratory. "I tell you there was no such thing is getting ahead of old 'Janitor John,' and if the old boy is on duty still I'll bet there are none of the chaps of the present day who can come it over him. We were about as lively * lot •a the old college aver turned out, TO warr- you.

"And the old eating club at South Middle! It cost us two dollars • week there for board, unless you helped wait on table. Then you could get three meals a day for one dollar or even for nothing, if you were ready for •work three times on six days in each week.

"I remember when 'Piggy' Ralston, "Lengthy* Salters, and I—we three left & terrible reputation behind us, I'm afraid—raided the storeroom of the South Middle Eating club. Old Mrs. Martin was the matron and she had laid in a big stock of honey and apples. We knew about it and one Friday night we broke into the storeroom and stole a whole case of honey, as many apples as we could carry, and two loaves of bread. We took our plunder up into 'Prof. Tommy's' room on the third floor of Middle college and had a good square meal. That was really the only time I ever got enough to eat during my college course—and I paid as high as three a week for board part of the time. We were just finishing up the honey when we heard footsteps on the stairway leading up from the second floor. The footsteps sounded 'one, two, limp; one, two, limp,' and we knew that, it was old 'Prof. Pete.' He was the Greek professor and he always had been lame. We waited until he pounded on the outside of the door with his cane and said: 'Young gentlemen, let me in instantly.'

"Then we climbed out the window on to the balcony which grew out of the front of Middle college like the top of a toadstool and got ready to slide down the big white Grecian pillars to the ground. 'Lengthy' Salters went first because his arms and legs were longest and we figured that he could come nearest to reaching clear around the big white pillars. "When he got down to the second floor 'Prof. Pete' was threatening to break in the door and we were tickled when 'Lengthy' called back that it was 'dead easy.' 'Piggy' followed him and I went last. We found out for ourselves in a minute what 'Lenghty' had carefully concealed. The white pillars were, of course, only imitation marble. They had been covered with a couple of coats of white paint and then sand and fine gravel had been scattered thickly over them so that sliding down them was like making a similar trip on a cylinder of sand paper. 'Lengthy' had on the suit he had expected to wear at 'Junior X,* but by the time he got to the bottom his trousers were in such shape that he found it necessary to withdraw altogether. I didn't fare much better, but, then, I was one of the wealthy men of the class, with a regular allowance of S3O a mnth, so that I was able to stand the loss of my trousers without serious results.

" 'Lengthy,* you know, was the chap who stole the 'sophs'' mortar boards while they were all eating supper down at the eating club at South Middle. The dining-room was in the basement and the 'sophs' had piled up their fancy hats on the window sills. The windows were half above ground and it was just before commencement, so the windows, were open. 'Lengthy' started at one end and went all around the buildiiig collecting every mortar board on the sills. He got half way around before the 'sophs' noticed what was going on. Before he started in he had locked the doors to the dining-room, so he had a good chance to get away before the first 'soph l climbed out of the window. The 'sophs', played the baby act and complained to the faculty, but they never did find out who stole the mortar boards or what was done with them. They never did get them back until 'Lengthy* sent them around with his compliments to the president of the sophomore olass. I don't suppose it will do poor old 'Lengthy' any harm now to tell that he kept all the stolen mortar boards for-a month up in the belfry of the Baptist church. 'Lengthy' got three dollars a week for pulling the Baptist bell four times a day on Sunday and twice every Wednesday evening for prayer meeting. He got shot to death by the 'Johnny Rebs,' but he was a colonel before they killed him." "But, grandfather," said Harper, '96, who felt that it was about time for him to take part in the conversation, "you've forgotten all you really learned in college, I suppose, like all the rest of us." "Have I. indeed f • chirruped the old boy. "Arma vinimque eono Trojee qid primus," he quoted. "Let's go out a*d have a glass of apple cago Tribune.

'A Ten-Thouaand-Doller Joktc. A witty remark does not always: result so satitfactorily to the perpetrator as in the case of the young curate who obtained a valuable living in the west of England by means ot a pun. The rector who held the llr . ing had died, and th'-'-e were my n _ applicants for the place, whichi Wa s worth $10 : 000 a year. The UvW, wag in the gift of an earl, who sxa . prised at the funeral by fbje testations of griet by t^ e semWe( j rectors and eurates. So he B a4d to the young curate, V 1& fc a4 a(Jt _ ing as the tutor «* hi* a<sa: « urally they sho.*!* fed 9 proper amount of gri*f,. b** I caynnot undV sta::;i why they should Weep so frjen«i. Iy for the dead." Tbje young ian in: runt y repaeJ:; "You are m j sW ken my. ' ?-d- it is m>l f or the dead they %Wp; it is fo C the living." ' r here . up ... the earl was so pleas* d w ith if' 1 ' " I n , nt ll S If - tIW reiaari * that he v " .k. I ° hVl " s to th * curate.Youth's Companion.