Junior Class Poem
Only one short year has passed
Since we were the Freshman (Mass,
And how we'd splatter plaster was some fun.
But now we 're really Juniors,
One more year and we'll be Seniors,
Then our funny splattering will be done.
For we '11 have to brave the tide
Without Hughes or Foster for our guide,
And I fear sometimes the waves will beat us down;
But with '' pluggers, " " probes'' and '' pullers''
We can build a craft of '' dollars,''
And if on this "boat," no one will ever drown.
But just here 'tis sad to note
That before we build our boat,
We may have to ride one built by U. S. A.
We won 't need our '' probes'' or " pullers,''
Nor will we need any dollars,
For on this boat our Uncle Sammy pays our way.
And so if by luck or chance
We safely land in France,
We '11 still hope to be a D.D.S. some day.
But if we shoulder guns
And march out against the Huns
All our Dental hopes will fade away.
We '11 then think what kind of men
We have, or should have been;
And if our chance for a "better place" seems fair,
Then our only hope or guide
Will be in Him who rules the tide
To bring us back or leave us '' over there.''
Cecil A. Pless.