A Freshman's Prayer
YE who occupy the seats of authority at Emory, have mercy on
me for I am a Freshman and far from home. My condition seems
tightly corked up in this the first syllable of my classification.
Accustomed to the high places at home, I considered myself
worthy of distinction here, but Lo, Trig and Latin beset we with
Avoes innumerable. I know not whither to turn for aid. I am shorn of the glories
of my past achievements. I am told that my "certificate" is not my own but the
"property of the college."
Oft'times the gloom gathers round me. I would that I had an excuse to go
home, but fear that it would lower my standing Avith "HER" should I fail. To this
end let me screw my courage to the "sticking" point and resolve to be brave and
So then, ye men of the faculty, "doctored" be your names, yea let the hallowed
head of "Zeke" be crowned with olive, let zeros come if your work is not done.
Give us this day our daily lecture but deliver us from taking notes thereon for hard
it is to Avrite, think and listen together.
Forgive us our absence even as we forgive you for cutting a class. Lead us
not into Calculus and Chemistry and deliver us from Latin, for ours is the burden.
the toil and the struggle. Keep back thy students also from accumulating back
work and lead us gently along the path of a rise and we shall cross safely over the
dead-line of flunking and rest under the shade of a dip. Amen.