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"WE'LL STAND AT THE BAR"

THE FIRST THREE HUNDRED YEARS ARE THE HARDEST

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

Celebrate Harvard's Tercentenary in the modern Manner! After the exercises follow the crowd to our new grill, where your favorite cocktail will be served. --Sign in a Massachusetts Avenue Window.

John Harvard's been outsmarted;

In a drear Yard he sits.

The cocktail hour's started,

And Harvard's at the Ritz.

The crowd's gone in a body,

And Sever broods with Straus.

"Take rye or a hot toddy;

The drinks are on the house."

Leave Harvard to the probers

Of history and death.

Our fate lies at Locke Ober's,

A rendezvous with breath.

We've had our fill of Gini,

Malinowski and the crew.

"Pass down my Dry Martini.

The olive, dear, for you."

The Puritan is mastered,

And Cotton Mather's dead.

So Harvard can get plastered,

And forget tomorrow's head.

The night grows ever blacker,

And Dunster lies with Hoar.

"Do have another cracker,

We can always order more."

Let learning feel not slighted.

Science has born its fruit.

But learning's torch is lighted,

And we must follow suit.

While Conant plans his litters

Of Western prodigies,

"Just add a little bitters,

And pass a napkin, please."

As the Three-Hundredth passes,

New joys for old suffice:

The frosting on the glasses,

The tinkling of the ice.

Three hundred years of liquor

Is Harvard's fame alone.

"The crowd is getting thicker;

You'll have to mix your own."

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