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THE PLASTIC AGE

classes cheered the singers, except when the sopho¬ mores and freshmen sang: they always ‘razzed each other. Hugh led the freshmen, and he never failed to get a thrill out of singing a clear note and hearing his classmates take it up.

After each class had sung three or four songs the boys gathered in the center of the lawn, sand the college hymn, gave a cheer, and the sing wa?i over.

On such nights, however, the singing really con tinued for hours. The Glee Club often sang from the Union steps; groups of boys wandered arm ill arm around the campus singing; on every frater nity steps there were youths strumming banjos anc others “harmonizing”: here, there, everywhere young voices were lifted in song—not joyous no jazzy but plaintive arid sentimental. Adeline’ sweetness was extolled by unsure barytones am “whisky” tenors; and the charms of Rosie O’Grad were chanted in “close harmony” in every corne of the campus:

“Sweet Rosie O’Grady, She’s my pretty rose; She’s my pretty lady, As every one knows. And when we are married, Oh, how happy we ’ll be, For I love sweet Rosie O’Grady And Rosie O’Grady loves me.”