UIHistories Project: A History of the University of Illinois by Kalev Leetaru
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Repository: UIHistories Project: Book - Banks of the Boneyard (Charles Kiler) [PAGE 33]

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The Advent of Dr. Peabody But little thought or care was given to this For it did not disturb at all our fun. And merry were the moments at they flew, Until the well known "All Aboard" was played. We reached the station in Oiampaign in time To see the sun break out upon the morn.

37

I don't remember who this poet was, but he certainly made light of the depredations of '91, and refused to acknowledge that they accomplished anything by all the efforts put forth in Danville. This is the only time I have ever heard the class of '91 referred to by anyone of that period as "friendly/' Efficient, active, able, devilish, victorious, all of these words—and some which we can not print might be used, but never "friendly." You see I have never claimed superiority for my class over ' 9 1 ; the best we can claim is a draw. It is little wonder to me that '91 is still one of the best organized classes and one of the groups that has attained individual success throughout the years since graduation. Among them are some of my best friends of today—men and women whom I hold in high esteem. One of our best campaigners suggested that we lay low, find out the names of all of the enemy who would be on the program, kidnap them, and lock them up in the cold and dreary stalls at the Fairgrounds, which at that time was located in the University District. The north end of these grounds was John Street, the south boundary was Armory Avenue, the west, First Street, and the east end was Fourth Street. Except for the Fair which was held each year in August, these grounds were idle. The horse stalls were cold and dreary, and we chortled with glee as we visualized John and Dick Chest0, John Powell, and Tommy Haworth, Jay Harris, Charlie Vail, and all the others concerning whom we were just then singing our hymns of hate, locked up in these dirty and frigid horse stalls, while their relatives and friends waited in vain for them to appear on the chapel platform and do their stuff. But that class of '91 always was the luckiest bunch of bruisers ever assembled, and I will leave you to decide who came out ahead in the fight that eventuated. I was assigned to the committee whose job it was to capture Tommy Haworth, the class orator. With me were Robert Forbes