r quaint old bridges among fair, green
hills; some for the Light, shooting out into the broad waters of the
open bay, their feathered oars flashing in the sunlight; some for
Savin's Rock, where among the cool cedars that overshadow the steep
rock, they sing uproarious student-songs until the dreamy beauty of
ocean, with its laughing sunlight, its white sails, and green, quiet
shores, like visible music, shall steal in and fill the soul until the
noisy hilarity becomes eloquent silence. And now, as in the
twilight-hour they are again afloat, you may hear the song again:

'Many the mile we row, boys,
Merry, merry the song;
The joys of long ago, boys,
Shall be remembered long.
Then as we rest upon the oar,
We raise the cheerful strain,
Which we have often sung before,
And gladly sing again.'

But perhaps the most interesting day of college-life is
'Presentation-Day,' when the Seniors, having passed the various ordeals
of _viva voce_ and written examinations, are presented by the senior
tutor to the President, as worthy of their degrees. This ceremony is
succeeded by a farewell poem and oration by two of the class chosen for
the purpose, after which they partake of a collation with the college
faculty, and then gather under the elms in front of the colleges. They
seat themselves on a ring of benches, inside of which are placed huge
tubs of lemonade, (the strongest drink provided for public occasions,)
long clay pipes, and great store of mildest Turkey tobacco. Here, led on
by an amateur band of fiddlers, flutists, etc., through the long
afternoon of 'the leafy month of June,' surrounded by the other classes
who crowd about in cordial sympathy, they smoke manfully, harangue
enthusiastically, laugh uproariously, and sing lustily, beginning always
with the glorious old Burschen song of 'Gaudeamus':

'Gaudeamus igitur
Juvenes dum sumus:
Post jucundam juventutem,
Post molestam senectutem,
Nos habebit humus.'

* * * * *

'Pereat tristitia,
Pereant osores,
Pereat diabolus,
Quivis antiburschius
Atque irrisores.'

Then as the shadows grow long, perhaps they sing again those stirring
words which one returning to the third semi-centennial of his Alma
Mater, wrote with all the warmth and power of manly affection:

* * * * *

'Count not the tears of the long-gone years,
With their moments of pain and sorro