My dear Jane,It seems like years since nineteen nine
Departed from South Hadley
To chronicle events my task,
Although I do it badly.'Mid waving kerchiefs and faint song
We watched you ride away,
And mournfully did we return
Each to her house without delay.Anon the dinner bell did ring
And from force of habit purely.
Down we went to assertain [sic]
The kinds of food provided, merely.'Twas roast (that unknown kind you know)
A browned potato, and a large green plum,
With car'mel pudding for dessert.
We ate a bit and chatted some.But how lonesome was that room!
You I'm sure can't comprehend.
Tables three in number empty
And departed, many a friend.The freshmen all were raving
At their fierce examination.
"Nineteen thirteen sure, we'll be,"
Said they without hesitation.Promptly afterward, as planned,
Nineteen 'Leven had election,
And as president they chose,
Ruth H. Richardson - perfection.Then for Vice, without delay
Sarah Allen we elected,
By a large majority
Just as everyone expected.Gretchen Barr's our treasurer,
Marjorie Graves our secretary.
Soon as business was complete,
We departed in a hurry.For the Social Club was giving
In the grove behind our chapel
An informal danse, [sic] and serving
Punch made out of grape and apple.Music by an orchestra,
Dancing by a few,
Illumination by grim torches,
Gave a most fantastic hue.We reached home in time to profit
From the very best surprise -
Rich and copious ice-cream,
With cake of most enormous size.'Twas in Amy's room we gathered,
Not a soul was lacking here.
While we ate we talked of seniors,
Seeming far away, yet near.Then we heard by telephone
That your banquet was just finished.
You were waiting for the toasts,
Till the dishes had diminished.Then a bell did us inform
That we'd have to hurry,
'Else a proctor would us find,
And she'd make us skurry. [sic]For your kindness to your sisters
We all join in thanking you,
And the most that we can do
Never can repay your due.Now, I trust you will be lenient
When this chronicle you judge,
For me it would be easier
To make a pan of fudge.And now in closing I would wish
In this your Mountain Day,
The very loveliest of times.
That's all that I can say.Mount Holyoke College,
June nineth.[A second note was enclosed.]
First we called her Jennie,
Now we call her Jane, But it doesn't matter
She is always just the same.She always has a smile,
And you can hear her laugh
As she stands beneath the window
Or comes walking down the path.What will we do without thee
Next year when thee is gone
Without thy smiling face
We'll be sad and all forlornTed H.