I am not any social star,
But then--within my certain knowledge,
Like me, unknown to fame, there are
Some fifteen hundred men in college.
S.M. WILLIAMS.
_Harvard Lampoon_.
~When Witherspoon was President.~
Their manners had a formal cast
A century or more ago,
Their bow was suited, as they passed
To place in Academic row.
With "honored sir" and "humbly so,"
Their speech was truly reverent--
True learning did true grace bestow,
When Witherspoon was president.
The clothes they wore would now be classed
At best as but a curio,
Huge buckles held their slippers fast--
Low cut and pointed at the toe.
Gray powdered hair, small-clothes below,
A long blue coat fresh splendor lent--
In sooth they made a goodly show
When Witherspoon was president.
But when the trumpet's warring blast
Had knelled the fate that tyrants know,
They proved no laggards at the last,
And sprang to meet their country's foe.
Their master's words undying glow--
"To slavery there's no consent,
My fame, my life is on the throw--"
When Witherspoon was president.
Aye, manners, customs, clothes may flow,
Unchanging is such sentiment--
We would have done as they, I trow,
When Witherspoon was president.
DAVID POTTER.
_Nassau Literary Monthly.
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