of fact, most of you like poetry very much. You never give me such good attention as when I read poetry. What’s more, some of you are writing the disgraceful stuff. But what happens when a man does submit a poem as a theme? He writes at the bottom of the page, ‘Please do not read this in class.’ Some of you write that because you don’t think that the poem is very good, but most of you are afraid of the contempt of your classmates. I know of any number of men in this college who read vast quantities of poetry, but always on the sly. Just think of that! Men pay thousands of dollars and give four years of their lives supposedly to ac¬ quire culture and then have to sneak off into a cornet to read poetry. “Who are your college gods? The brilliant men who are thinking and learning, the men with ideals and aspirations? Not by a long shot. They are the athletes. Some of the athletes happen to be as intelligent and as eager to learn as anybody else, but a fair number are here simply because they are paid to come to play football or baseball or wha not. And they are worshiped, bowed down to. cheered, and adored. The brilliant men, unless they happen to be very ‘smooth’ in the bargain, are considered wet and are ostracized. “Such is the college that you write themes aboui to tell me that it is perfect. The college is made up of men who worship mediocrity; that is theii
