Adventures and Letters [12]
Mr. Allen and you and every one that they can make an honorary member of immediately.
It was first as an associate editor and afterward as editor-in-chief of the college paper, The Lehigh Burr, that Richard found his greatest pleasure and interest during his three years at Lehigh. In addition to his editorial duties he wrote a very great part of every issue of the paper, and his contributions included short stories, reports of news events, editorials, and numerous poems.
As, after his life at college, Richard dropped verse as a mode of expression, I reprint two of the poems which show him in the lighter vein of those early days.
A COMMENCEMENT IDYL
"I'm a Freshman who has ended his first year, But I'm new; And I do whate'er the Juniors, whom I fear, Bid me do. Under sudden showers I thrive; To be bad and bold I strive, But they ask--`Is it alive?' So they do.
I'm a Sophomore who has passed off his exams, Let me loose! With a mark as high as any other man's, As obtuse I'm fraternal. I am Jolly. I am seldom melancholy And to bone I think is folly, What's the use?
I'm a Junior whom exams. have left forlorn, Flunked me dead; So I'll keep the town awake 'till early morn; Paint it red. At class-meetings I'm a kicker, Take no water with my liquor, And a dumb-bell's not thicker Than my head.
I'm a Senior whose diploma's within reach, Eighty-four. On Commencement Day you'll hear my maiden-speech; I will soar! I got through without condition; I'm a mass of erudition; Do you know of a position!"
OUR STREET
"Our street is still and silent, Grass grows from curb to curb,
No baker's bells With jangling knells Our studious minds disturb. No organ grinders ever call, No hucksters mar our peace; For traffic shuns our neighborhood And leaves us to our ease.
But now it lives and brightens, Assumes a livelier hue; The pavements wide, On either side, Would seem to feel it too. You might not note the difference, The change from grave to gay, But I can tell, and know full well, Priscilla walks our way."
Shortly after his return to college Richard celebrated his nineteenth birthday, and received these letters from his father and mother:
April 17th, 1883. MY DEAR BOY:
When I was thinking what I could give to you to-morrow, I remembered the story of Herder, who when he was old and weak and they brought him food and wine asked for "a great thought to quicken him."
So I have written some old sayings for you that have helped me. Maybe, this year, or some other year, when I am not with you, they may give you, sometimes, comfort and strength.
God bless you my son--
YOUR OLD MOTHER
who loves you dearly--dearly.
THE PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER PHILADELPHIA, April 17th, 1883.
MY DEAR BOY:
You are to be nineteen years old on Wednesday. After two years more you will be a man. You are so manly and good a boy that I could not wish you to change in any serious or great thing. You have made us very happy through being what you have been, what you are. You fill us with hope of your future virtue and usefulness.
To be good is the best thing of all; it counts for more than anything else in the world. We are very grateful that you have even in youth been wise enough to choose the right road. You will find it not easy to keep upon it always, but remember if you do get off struggle back to it. I do not know but I think God loves the effort to do as well as the act done.
I congratulate you my dear son, on your
It was first as an associate editor and afterward as editor-in-chief of the college paper, The Lehigh Burr, that Richard found his greatest pleasure and interest during his three years at Lehigh. In addition to his editorial duties he wrote a very great part of every issue of the paper, and his contributions included short stories, reports of news events, editorials, and numerous poems.
As, after his life at college, Richard dropped verse as a mode of expression, I reprint two of the poems which show him in the lighter vein of those early days.
A COMMENCEMENT IDYL
"I'm a Freshman who has ended his first year, But I'm new; And I do whate'er the Juniors, whom I fear, Bid me do. Under sudden showers I thrive; To be bad and bold I strive, But they ask--`Is it alive?' So they do.
I'm a Sophomore who has passed off his exams, Let me loose! With a mark as high as any other man's, As obtuse I'm fraternal. I am Jolly. I am seldom melancholy And to bone I think is folly, What's the use?
I'm a Junior whom exams. have left forlorn, Flunked me dead; So I'll keep the town awake 'till early morn; Paint it red. At class-meetings I'm a kicker, Take no water with my liquor, And a dumb-bell's not thicker Than my head.
I'm a Senior whose diploma's within reach, Eighty-four. On Commencement Day you'll hear my maiden-speech; I will soar! I got through without condition; I'm a mass of erudition; Do you know of a position!"
OUR STREET
"Our street is still and silent, Grass grows from curb to curb,
No baker's bells With jangling knells Our studious minds disturb. No organ grinders ever call, No hucksters mar our peace; For traffic shuns our neighborhood And leaves us to our ease.
But now it lives and brightens, Assumes a livelier hue; The pavements wide, On either side, Would seem to feel it too. You might not note the difference, The change from grave to gay, But I can tell, and know full well, Priscilla walks our way."
Shortly after his return to college Richard celebrated his nineteenth birthday, and received these letters from his father and mother:
April 17th, 1883. MY DEAR BOY:
When I was thinking what I could give to you to-morrow, I remembered the story of Herder, who when he was old and weak and they brought him food and wine asked for "a great thought to quicken him."
So I have written some old sayings for you that have helped me. Maybe, this year, or some other year, when I am not with you, they may give you, sometimes, comfort and strength.
God bless you my son--
YOUR OLD MOTHER
who loves you dearly--dearly.
THE PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER PHILADELPHIA, April 17th, 1883.
MY DEAR BOY:
You are to be nineteen years old on Wednesday. After two years more you will be a man. You are so manly and good a boy that I could not wish you to change in any serious or great thing. You have made us very happy through being what you have been, what you are. You fill us with hope of your future virtue and usefulness.
To be good is the best thing of all; it counts for more than anything else in the world. We are very grateful that you have even in youth been wise enough to choose the right road. You will find it not easy to keep upon it always, but remember if you do get off struggle back to it. I do not know but I think God loves the effort to do as well as the act done.
I congratulate you my dear son, on your