To Beth

She called me on the telephone,
   Said: “Hughie, dear at half-past eight
Be down at Roscoe Smith’s alone
   And oh, for Pete’s sake don’t be late!”

She took me down to the Fireman’s Ball
   We spent a joyous evening there.
She was the prettiest of them all,
   Of form and feature fine and fair.

A midnight lunch she gave me when
   Fatigued, we left the Legion Hall;
When we took leave about three-ten
   I had not spent a cent at all.

She took me to my dwelling place
   And fondly kissed me at the gate,
She squeezed me in a tight embrace
   And asked me for a future date.

Then I Awoke. It was a dream.
   I felt inclined to curse my fate,
But still I’m always off to bed
   In hopes to fulfill that future date                               -R. McK.

To the Freshman

Oh, the Freshman! How we love them!
   With their sweet and innocent faces.
 And their wild round eyes a-staring
   At a life so strange and new.
All their cute little mannerisms.
   And their simple childish graces.
With their happy prattling laughter all.
   Of childhood ringing true.

 Oh, the girls are Elsie Dinsmores
   And the lads are Fauntleroys all-
As sweet and pure as morning dew
   In heart and soul and mind:
Yet a few more years of high school
   And they. The girls and boys, all will
Be wise and toughen their brows
   Bu study seamed and lined.

Heigh-ho! They’ll twit the Freshmen then
   For being as now are they:
But glance across the Annual
   And see them while you may.

                         - R. McKenna