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The Annual Bowl Fight at the University of Pennsylvania.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

A few days ago the bowl-fight was revived at the University of Pennsylvania after an interregnum of on year. There was an ominous hush in freshman and sophomore quarters when Prof. Jackson reached the last batch of third-honor men. Several sophomores had donned their war-clothes under the toga virilis, which in this case may be truly said to have covered many defects. After the announcements were all over, those whose hearts were not unduly weighted down with conditions, rushed to the halls to prepare for the fray. At the east end stood a couple of sophs gazing fondly upon their thirty-dollar darling, which was a striking illustration of the beautiful and useful combined in one, needing only the bowl-man held in its gentle embrace, after the manner of the acorn, to make the picture complete; at the other end stood the freshmen, in weighty council of war; now they come on with a rush and a shout. Out through the door the mass is squeezed, like a bed-sheet through a clothes-wringer, and down the campus they slide on the smooth crust of snow. The fight soon divided itself into two sections-the freshmen with the bowl man in their midst, striving to gain the gate on Thirty-fourth street, and thus put their man in safety, while the sophs were trying to tug the bowl after them and establish the desired union between bowl and bowl-man. But the fates were against them. Bowl and bowl-man got further and further apart, until the latter gained the street.

Now the freshman rushed back with redoubled forces and shouts of "Break it! Fire plug!" At this juncture one of the college reporters came upon the scene, and fired with noble frenzy he saw in his mind's eye the faculty dancing about, and one of them just escaping, by the skin of his teeth, from being placed in the bowl. Meanwhile the fire-plug had been gained, and ominous thuds began to tell of the severe ordeal the bowl was undergoing. Incensed, however, at being abused in such a way the fire-plug suddenly began to splutter and spurt, and in less than a minute the crowd was squirted away. This saved the bowl's life. For now the Meds had come and were doing their best to take the bowl to Medical Hall. When the college men saw that the Meds were gaining steadily they combined their forces. With united vigor they hurled themselves against the advancing phalanx. But in vain! On and on it moved until the bottom of the stone steps leading to Medical Hall had been reached. Here the hottest fighting of the day was done. The college men collected their forces at the top of the embankment and charged from above, creating great slaughter among medical hats.

Agan and again the Meds tried to gain the vantage point, but every time they were repelled. At last they had recourse to a stratagem. By a sudden flank movement they baffled the college men, and getting hold of the bowl they charged against the doors of the dead-room. A horrible sight greeted the college men, and they drew back with terror. But the repulsive grins of the "stiffs" were to the Meds only smiles of welcome from old friends. They closed the doors after them, and a minute later they showed the bowl from the third-story window to the howling crowd below. This ended the fight. The Meds won the victory, and often as the sophomore passes the Medical hall you may see him looking up, with a tearful glance of mingled fear and sorrow, to the windows of the dissecting-room, which contains the pride of his sophomoric existence.- Pennsylvanian.

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