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Image provided by: Hobart and William Smith Colleges
102 THIi HOBART HKKALI). fallen from the zone of “ Cheerful’ ' to “ Slightly blue.” Then comes another drop, when the goodbyes are said ; and as he bids Her a long- drawn-out farewell, he touches the “ U tterly dism a l’ point. Alter the last fam iliar landmarks have been passed and the train is scudding college-ward at the rate of thirty miles an hour, the indicator gradually moves upward, and by the time old Hobart’s classic w a lls are reached, our subject is in the zone of “ Able to s m ile.” The first night at college is apt to cause a down ward tendency of the needle, but the fam iliar faces and reminiscences next morning quickly send it up to ” J o lly.” But alas ! Our subject approaches the mail-box ; he takes therefrom a letter, directed in a boarding-school hand ; he seeks his room and devours its contents (the letter’s contents, w e mean) ; meanwhile, the indicator rushes downward in a manner that is appalling— shoots through all the zones from \ Baby blue “ to “ Indigo ; ’ ’ through “ Tired of life,” ” Ready to pla\r hearts,” and so on, till it strikes, with a click, the lowest point, “ Hom esick.' ’ One of the few things that are lacking in the equipment of the college, (according to the catalogue), is a chair of phrenology. A professor o f that science (suspected of having walked from Ithaca) established one, indeed, upon the steps of Trinity Hall last spring : but he fled in despair when called upon to probe for bumps on Richards’ cranium. But supposing such a chair should be established (with a cushion) the Observer could suggest several promising lines of investigation to the incumbent. For example, by exam ining the heads of those “ fiery sons of turm o il,’ ’ H o b a rt’s football team, he would doubtless find traces of a reversion to prim itive types, accounting for their love of that brutal and barbarous sport. Again, we suspect that he would find the bump of veneration in process o f degeneration among college men, if not entirely wanting. The good old times when college-students never abbreviated the names of their professors behind their backs ; never alluded to their sires as ' ‘ the old man ” o r 1 ’ the governor ; ’ ’ and would have blushed at the liberty takeu in referring to a certain institution as “ The A n n e x ” — are gone. T h e only individual w h o is held in due reverence is Jan, by whom our destinies are controlled, through the steam-pipes. Our ‘ ‘ oldest subscribers ’ ’ doubtless remember the ancient nursery rhyme, “ It is a sin to steal a pin, A s well as any greater th in g .” W h ile
