Somebody started a chant. The
Yale graduates took it up by hundreds
until 1,500 of them shouted in
rhythm:
Oh, Freshman, put out that light!
Oh, Freshman, put out that light!
Oh, Freshman, put out that light!
That was Yale's greeting to Taft of '78. The welcome to President William Howard Taft, who happened to have been graduated from Yale and not some other university—Harvard, say, or Princeton—came later, when President Sheffield of the Yale Club and President Hadley sent big words over his head and admitted that the character of the man had something to do with his rise in the world as well as the Yale training.
But there were many moments when the graduates put aside the fact that they were entertaining the President. The old men who were graduated a little before or a little after Mr. Taft and had known him in college gravitated toward the dais by twos and threes, laughing and chuckling and poking each other in the ribs. Mr. Taft was on his feet most of the time.
"Bill, I wonder if you remember this one—" and Tom of '78 or Jack of '79 would reel off a story or a joke that hadn't been released maybe for thirty years. There was the story of the little red hen—but it need not be repeated. Mr. Taft remembered it, that was certain.
And while the handshaking and the reminiscences and the old jokes were keeping Mr. Taft busy on the dais, a cannonading of cheers and songs was fired at him from every table in the room. They sang him "The Old Brick Row" and "Yale Will Win," and when they had run through these they took up "Boola" again and again until the sweep of its rhythm had drawn the voice of every man in the room, including the President's.
