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皇國千字文

恭惟諾尊 降自高天

立鶺鴒教 闢蘆葦原

霊等鏡璽 澤遍乾坤

肇基二柱 伝統一孫

國非姫姓 含殷盧真

人悉男児 具日本魂

厥俗喜勇 翠鬟跨鞍

其性憎讐 黄口揮鞭

神帝以下 世出聖君

逆蘇之外 廷無暴臣

峭巖為壁 万里隣侚

蒼瀛作塹 四面回環

瀛政艶羨 遙望蓬山

徐福帰化 竊比桃源

蜻廷伸翼 地芥區寰

函X開萼 嶽奴崑崙

杵嶼清浄 夏宵没蚊

琶湖斂艶 雨時可船

武野暮色 蟾離草間

弱浦晴景 鶴渡葭邊

壌産瑞穂 黍稷稲綿

礦胎珍寶 銅鐡金銀

郊絶獅豹 毛物共馴

厩多騏驥 駿骨成群

嘉菓留馥 扶桑托根

栂茶芽緑 摂酒味醇

瑳玖蕾綻 麝臍猩唇

汰緋魚躍 瑠晴瓊鱗

参乃鼠族 五葉駢肩

兼即鳥羽 六銖争釣

書免秦火 篆X儼然

服用唐制 黼黻炳焉

就中介冑 最類軼倫

飾窮佳麗 質択精純

劍断蟒尾 刀駆魔氛

箭洞戦艦 鏃鑿虜干

綉X傾錏 菊蕋嬋娟

直槍閃刃 梨花繽粉

陣選奇騎 蝴蝶従軍

舸排捷艪 蜈蚣走瀾

洵是美土 須禦蠢蛮

歴代薄伐 諸将録勲

倭建踰塞 苦矢瑞臻

功后拓境 氈笠咸賓

坂進纛旆 遼羯遁奔

紀執斧鉉 呉狗逡巡

巴提奮拳 獰獣血玄

伊企啖臀 驕酋膽寒

責彼慢辞 莵郎雷嗔

輟吾遠使 菅氏更言

牛稚軽履 躡蝦窟灘

猿臂鳴鏑 響虻戸雲

北条斫案 鞭兵喪元

西府郤聘 明客赧顔

豊閤胸宇 禹域併呑

藤肥矛戟 箕跡摧残

X鬚偉略 豈沐猴冠

虎頭驍貌 是鬼上官

麑島石曼 著干青編

亀井琉珠 輝於素丸

奥主独眼 蔑視南蕃

狭侯隻手 攫取東偏

鄭森襲臺 蛟騰龍蟠

長政定暹 鴻飛鵠塞

照祖靖難 号令維新

臺公承緒 規模仍遵

臚館応接 只延流韓

藁街亙市 特容漢蘭

戈貫胡顱 千足勢振

榜示奸罪 三眼威懸

浜田匕首 脅甲比丹

兼子片槎 偵米利堅

憑咽喉険 函関泥封

備覬覦寇 鑰厳江門

郭帯鋒霞 喬松陰繁

旗擎朱旭 異葵葩薫

覇図極盛 宸居永全

徃昔寧楽 抵今平安

祭祀粛穆 儀陳瑚璉

簪笏端荘 班列宛鸞

堯階尚倹 帰存億年

周晢貴徳 鎮圧百藩

桜楊経緯 錦裏禁垣

楓櫨濃淡 画繞御園

才女捲簾 賞雪霽晨

鉅儒染簡 咏鶯囀春

洛筮己穏 浪速亦殷

綺羅輻湊 管絃喧填

鷦閣暁眺 竃蒸祥煙

蜆川夜游 橋漲軟塵

城聳楼櫓 睥睨朝鮮

港銜艫舳 吐納秋津

踴糶糴価 商賈専権

鬻漆絲品 牧伯通泉

如斯静謐 誰招災殃

歳当磨蝎 運属紅羊

凶鴉噪峡 妄爾鴟張

妖鷲摶崎 飽即鷹揚

蓮幕寛量 姑許跳梁

柳営深慮 務撫獗猖

蟹文狼藉 猾禮義郷

鴃舌侏離 擾翰墨場

卒学繰歩 穿窄袖裳

民癈踏佛 迷十字方

卓哉水烈 興乎常陽

辨別名分 率由典章

弘秦州道 夙護皇綱

奉鳳詔旨 先論海防

符号総見 梵器毀傷

軌同守屋 魑法掃攘

獻楠家策 語綴珪璋

奏善相議 詞挟氷霜

蠅糞空点 和璧失光

竜氣忽尽 莫邪折X

螽麟続胤 瓜X熾昌

熊羆継志 史筆焜煌

禊辰豪挙 壮心軒昂

燈夕快事 惰風消亡

筑嶺碧竹 建竿雖僵

萩塁紫英 幽叢愈香

我輩小蟻 意慕余芳

身在縲絏 憂及廟堂

踪似吉猛 寃亜古狂

嗚呼命也 臨釜投湯

唯所祈者 拒夷勤皇

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愛國百人一首ゑはがき:源頼政

minamoto-no-yorimasa.jpg

み山木のその梢ともみえざりし櫻は花にあらわれにけり
miyamagi no so no kozue tomo miezarishi sakura wa hana ni araware ni keri
unable to see the tops of the trees deep in the mountains we soon saw that they were cherry trees, revealed just by their flowers scattered in the wind

Poem by Minamoto no Yorimasa (源頼政, 1106–1180), a Heian period military official, courtier and poet. Before inclusion in the 1943 Aikoku Hyakunin Isshu, this poem was anthologized in the first volume of the shortest imperial poetry collection, the 1151 Shika Wakashū (詞花和歌).

The subject is preparing a wartime comfort bag (慰問袋, imonbukuro) for soldiers deployed during the Pacific War. Comfort bags included candy, postcards, letters of encouragement, toiletries, etc., and their preparation was a common activity for women in wartime Japan and occupied Korea.

松本盛昌, 愛國百人一首ゑはがき
東京:愛國社、昭和18年 (1943)。
Postcard, illustrated by Matsumoto Morimasa

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愛國百人一首ゑはがき

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松本盛昌, 愛國百人一首ゑはがき
東京:愛國社、昭和18年 (1943)。
Postcard envelope, illustrated by Matsumoto Morimasa

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A Grateful Mention of Deceased Bishops, by Clement Barksdale (1686)

A Grateful MENTION of Deceased BISHOPS

1. ABBOT, all Englands Metropolitan,
By Preaching, and by Writing, Honour won.

2. Abbot of Sarum, Regius Professor, taught
By’s Learned Lectures, and the Books he wrote.

3. Babington Worster may be read with gain;
A Writer very pious, very plain.

4. Bancroft and Whitgift, both in the prime Seat,
Both in their Books and Government were great.

5. Bilson of Winton, Great: No doubt of it:
Study the Obedience which he writ.

6. May Primate Bramhall, with prime Authors go;
His Divine Works we have in Folio.

7. Brideock of Chichester, two Kings did please,
For Latham-House, and other Services.

8. Bedel of Kilmore, He right Learned was,
With him his Irish Bible’s lost; Alas!

9. Bancroft of Oxon, built the Bishops House,
Burnt to the Ground by Rebels furious.

10. Carlton of Chichester, a grave Learned Man,
Wrote many good Books, Read them he that can.

11. Cosins of Durham, Kings Chaplain in’s Exile,
And wrote the Scripture History therewhile.

12. Creighton in War, and Exile, Kings attended,
Old faithful Creighton then to Bath commended.

13. Carlton (Guy) strong in arms, at Bristol he
Bishop, got o’re the Phranticks Victory.

14. Davenant Sarum, Professor Regius, stable,
In Life and Doctrine strict, yet peaceable.

15. Duppa of Sarum, Princes good grave Teacher,
A Confessor, advanc’d to Winchester.

16. Earl Worster, the Prince Charles’s Chaplain, first,
To the Exiled King made good his trust.

17. Frewen of York; Vice-Chancellor, an Actor
Vigilant, to make Laud our Benefactor.

18. Gauden at Exeter, had Laetitia,
For Anglicanae lacrimae & suspiria.

19. Godwin of Hereford Bishop, justly so.
His Kings and Bishops among good Books go.

20. Old Goodman wrote the Fall of Man, and more:
His Name at Gloster lives among the Poor.

21. Hall Norwich-prelate, he hard measure had:
Admirable Writer, under Persecution glad.

22. Harsnet of York, one of the first I find,
Who preach’d at Pauls, Gods Love to all Minkind.

23. Hacket of Lichfield, ingenious Preacher, very
Charitable; his word, Do well and be Cheery.

24. Holdsworth and Brownrig, good Bishops elect,
By the good King, by ungodly men reject.

25. Jewel of Sarum’s Works deserve gold Chain,
In every Church, wherein they yet remain.

26. Juxon of London, had kept Kings Treasury,
Kept his more precious Soul, when led to dye.

27. John King London, had three Sons of good Names,
Stiled the King of Preachers, by King James.

28. King (Henry) of Chichester, Preach’t first the Memory
Of Charles King-Martyr, thirtieth January.

29. New Colledg, Winchester and Wells may take
A fair example from Right Reverend Lake.

30. Laud Primate; See’s Council-Speech, and learn’d Book
Of Controverse, and on a Martyr look.

31. Lindsel of Hereford, for this special Act,
Is to be honoured, His Theophilact.

32. Matthews York, does in Pulpit Dominere,
Said Campian; Sure he was most Eloquent there.

33. Winchester Morley’s exile is renown’d:
He Preach’t to his great Master being Crown’d.

34. Morton of Durham Prelate, His Appeal,
Imposture, and of Providence, wrote with Zeal.

35. Nicolson Gloster’s Name shall not soon dye;
Preserv’d by’s Sermons and Apology.

36. Overal, after Nowell, Dean of Paul’s,
To Lichfield Consecrated to save Souls.

37. Parker, great Primate, rightly Consecrate;
In th’ great Queens Reign did Bishops propagate.

38. Parkhurst of Norwich Bishop, in that See
Vouchsaf’d to Print his Juvenilia.

39. Parry belov’d at Gloster, prefer’d thence
To Worster, latin’d Raynolds Conference.

40. Prideaux Worster, abus’d i’th’ Bishops Throne;
Famous i’th’ Doctor’s for Moderation.

41. Raynolds of Norwich, Merton Colledg bred,
Passions and Sermons, worthy to be read.

42. Rust late of Dromore, learnedly does tell
The use of Reason, Englisht by Halliwell.

43. Sheldon Dean, Preach’d the Kings Deliverance.
And was advanc’d to Archbishops Eminence.
‘And Sheldon fixed in so high a Sphere,
‘Raised at Oxford, the great Theatre.

44. Sanderson Lincoln’s Book might now silence
Dissenters doubts. Lectures of Conscience.
This Doctors Sermons at great rate are Sold;
For Solidness are worth their weight in Gold.

45. Sandys York-Primate, see his happiness
In his own Virtues, and his Sons no less.

46. York-Primate Stern, but lately from us gone,
Is worthy of an honourable mention.

47. Smith Glocester, great Hebrician is blest,
For great pains on the Bible, with the rest.

48. Spotswood Scots Loyal Primate, and his Son,
For Charles the first have suffer’d much, much done.

49. Taylor the Bishop, England and Ireland fills
With Nectar dropping from his Lips and Quills.

50. Usher Lord Primate, not one Land alone;
His Works in all the Learned World are known.

51. Philosopher and Theologer, these two
Compleat the grave John Wilkins, Bishop too.

52. Williams of Lincoln, honour’d, dishonour’d; this
Lincoln-Colledg-Chappel built, Honour is.

53. Wren Confessor, fifteen years in the Tower,
Constant in Loyalty to his last hour.

54. Whitgift with all his might this Church maintain’d,
And Bancroft likewise; both much Glory gain’d.

THE IV. KINGS.

The first James many learned works hath done;
Read first of all, Δῶρον Βασιλικὸν.

First Charles’s Wisdom to his Enemies known,
When came to light, Βασιλικὴ εἰκὼν.

The 2d Charles hath said and done such things,
Which make him famous with the best of Kings.

King James the 2d, God guide all his days,
In’s Brothers, Fathers, and Grand fathers ways.
He will the living Bishops love and keep,
As Kings before him did those now asleep.

Quae fama unius lecti, lux quanta Jacobos,
Qstendisse duos, atque duos Carolos.
What fame, what light for one Age, to have shown
Two Jameses, and two Charleses, in one Throne!

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In the year 1646 there was built in Rhode Island, for some of the richer men of New Haven, a new ship, of which one Lamberton was appointed master. On her arrival at New Haven, though of good and commodious dimensions, she was found to be so faultily built, that her captain often said she would prove the grave of those who might embark on board of her.

Nevertheless this did not prevent many from determining to sail in her, and lading her with goods for trade. In January, 1647, cutting their way through the ice of the harbor, they set sail. On board were many of the most notable of the New Haven worthies,—Gregson, Turner, and the “goodly Mrs. Gregson,” being among the number. A strange presentiment appeared to possess all minds as they bade their friends adieu. Mr. Davenport prayed, with tearful eyes, “Lord, if it be thy pleasure to bury these, our friends, in the bottom of the sea, they are thine.” Thus, amid prayers and fears, they departed over the sea.

But they returned not again. Bleak winter blossomed into spring, yet the pleasant waters of the bay, from which the ship had faded in the midst of ice and snow, were gladdened with no welcome sail. Neither were tidings of their arrival at their destined port brought by any of the ships from England. Distressing doubts and gloomy fears began to arise. The nameless presentiment which overshadowed all minds at the embarkation was now remembered,—ominous tokens and signs were noted. As the months passed on with still no news from the missing ship, even the most hopeful began to despair. Those who had at first surmised that she had been driven by contrary winds to a foreign port, and was, therefore, longer absent, gradually yielded to the conviction that they never more should behold the gallant vessel. There was mourning for their loss throughout all the colony, and much prayer to God, that, if it was His good pleasure, He “would let them hear what He had done with their friends, and prepare them with a suitable submission to His holy will.” Their fervent prayers were answered. In the month of June a terrific thunder-storm overhung the town, arising from the northeast. After this had passed away, and the atmosphere became serene, about an hour before sundown, a SHIP, like to the missing one, came gaily up the harbor with canvas and colors all abroad, sailing against the wind, neither tacking nor veering, but holding an onward course. She seemed rather to sail in the heavens than the sea, though she came no nearer the shore than is done by vessels of such large dimensions. Some, however, averred that they might have hurled a stone on board of her. Many were drawn forth to behold this strange vision,-this work of God. The very children cried out, “There goes a brave ship!” All that saw her said she was the very likeness and image of the ship they had lost. She continued in full sight from a quarter to half an hour, amid exclamations of the admiring spectators, who could distinguish the colors and rigging of the various parts. Suddenly there appeared on the top of the poop a man, with his left arm placed akimbo, and his right holding a sword, with which he pointed towards the heavens. Thereupon the ship vanished. First her maintop seemed to be blown off, her left hanging in the shrouds; then her mizen-top; then all her masting seemed blown away by the board; then careening, she overset, and so vanished into a smoky cloud, which soon was dissipated, and left the air as pure and clear as before. Greatly edified by the sight, the pious spectators hesitated not to say, “This was the mould of our ship, and this her tragic end.” They returned thanks to God for thus placing at rest their minds, disquieted by hopes and fears; and Mr. Davenport publicly declared, “That God had condescended, for the quieting of their afflicted spirits, this extraordinary account of His sovereign disposal of those for whom so many fervent prayers were made continually.”

[The above is almost a literal transcript from the original accounts of the appearance of this phantom ship, according to Mather’s Magnalia, Book I, 25, Winthrop’s History of New England, vol. II, 328. Peter’s Hist. of Conn. (London Ed., 186,) has a still different account; but as he pretends to borrow from Mather, I have not noticed it. I may add, that Winthrop places the appearance of the ship two years after its loss, while Pierpont’s letter, as given by Mather, makes the ship appear in the spring following. Winthrop speaks of the appearance of the man with the sword, while Mather only tells us of the ship.]

Yale Literary Magazine (1855), Vol. 21, pp. 118-119.

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2016 Advent Calendars

One again, the Metropolitan Museum of Art has a smaller selection of Advent calendars this year, having retired its trusty Cloisters Unicorn calendar.80014171_02_p

The lovely old New York-themed and Met Museum-themed versions are gone still, too.

In their place the standout this year is the pop-up Avian Calendar with twenty-four birds.

By far the most beautiful—and reasonably priced, unless you’re outside the UK—calendars again this year are from the National Gallery. The Altarpieces calendar opens to reveal a tritpych of the Madonna and Child with Sts. Dominic and Aurea:

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One of my favorites again this year is the National Gallery’s Brueghel calendar, showing the artist’s Adoration of the Kings:

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Williams-Sonoma is selling the Fortnum & Mason tea Advent calendar with a wooden calendar and 24 bags of tea.


The Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Massachusetts has two options: An American Christmas and Norman Rockwell’s Main Street.


Mount Vernon has a Mount Vernon-themed Advent calendar, full of historical information for $4.99:

What did the Washington family coat of arms look like? What is the key in the Central Hall? What was Martha Washington’s china like? All of these questions are answered in this insightful and fun Advent Calendar.


The trend of online Advent calendars about 10 years ago has continued to fade, but Advientos still provides a service to build your own online Advent calendar. The Anglican Communion Office, Society of St John the Evangelist and Lady Doak College have collaborated on a multilingual online calendar at AdventWord.

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Rambles in Old College Towns (1917)

We were to have the rare distinction of eating at Mory’s, that haunt dear to generations of underclassmen; not, to be sure, in one of the general rooms on the ground floor, but upstairs, in the Governor’s Room, unseen if not unseeing. Before that hour we had time on our hands that should allow an opportunity to get some idea of the various campuses and the buildings that enclosed them or fronted on them.

“Let’s go through that splendid arch under Phelps Tower,” Sister demanded. “It is something like Princeton’s Tiger Gate, through Blair, except of course that it is so very different.”

The description seemed to me entirely logical at the time, though perhaps it may puzzle those who have never walked through either. […]

“At Mory’s you’ll hear about some of the undergrad clubs,” he told us. “The Hogans, extinct for the moment, but unforgotten and probably to be revived, the Whiffenpoofs, the Pundits. And then there’s the literary side, the men who edit the Lit., the Courant and the Record, not to speak of the Yale Daily. They are a big influence in the college life.”

We felt that, aside from information, it was distinctly time for Mory’s. Sightseeing in cloistered campuses and wind-fresh Bowls had had its effect. We were, in short, ravenous. And there, awaiting us, stood our host, before the quaint little wooden building that shelters the famous restaurant.

A narrow, boxed-in stairway led us to the second floor and the Governors’ Room, with its great round table and Windsor chairs, its Hogarth prints on the wainscoted walls, its cheerful little windows with the small panes of an older day. Here on the oaken board the covers were set, and here, smiling with entire good nature at this invasion of his castle by the forbidden sex, was Billy, the steward, making us feel at home and welcome on the spot.

The menu at Mory’s resembles those in English chophouses. It is simple, excellently cooked and abundant in its portions. Sister and I found them too big for us, and we are quite capable of holding our own after a morning’s exercise such as lay behind us. The specialty that morning was scrambled eggs with bacon, and it was real bacon, savoury of the smoke house, no flaccid imitation treated with what is imaginatively described as “liquid smoke.” Toast, too, and tea, and wonderful pie with cheese. Students who have haunted Mory’s will later on in life bitterly complain to distracted wives, wondering why they cannot have meals “like Mory’s used to make.” Perhaps this is the reason why women are not allowed in the delectable place. At any rate, no mother sending her son to Yale need worry for fear he won’t get meals as good as those he gets at home. So long as Mory’s endures, homecooking has a goal set for it.

Over our luncheon we heard talk of the famous undergraduate clubs that have met at Mory’s these many long years, and have made the name dear to Yale men the round world over. How dear was made evident not so many years ago when Mory’s, having had two bad years, and finding the neighbourhood where it had been since 1871 to be no longer satisfactory, almost decided to quit. An item to this effect was printed in a New York paper and ran broadcast over the country, reaching even into distant ports in China, India, Southern islands below the far horizon’s edge—and back, post haste, came letters of desperate appeal from Yale men. What? Close Mory’s? It was unthinkable.

Luckily Mory’s didn’t have to close. It found new quarters within easy range of the University, and moved up, body and soul. For not only was the spirit of the old place completely transferred to the new home, but the very window frames, the furniture, the bar, the ancient black door with its bright brass trimming that admits you from the street, all these came too. Wainscoting replaced paper, the trophies of fifty years took their accustomed places over the identical chimney pieces, and Yale settled back, content.

It was Louis Linder who made Mory’s what it is, taking it from Mrs. Moriarty as a popular place where town men came more often than college members, a place known for good food and good drink, but lacking the distinction he gave it. Louis Linder loved the undergraduates, and they loved him. He made the place their place. Gradually it became completely identified with them, and with the graduates who had known it in their own student days. Now it is only members, and there are fifteen thousand of them, 95 per cent identified with Yale, and their guests, who have the entree. Before Linder died he had formed plans to make an association that should take the management of Mory’s, but death came before the arrangements were completed. His idea has been carried out, however, and the place is run by a board of governors whose services are entirely voluntary.

But the business side of Mory’s, though immensely important, is not the side that fascinated either Sister or me. It was the human side, and what a human place it is!

The most famous of the clubs that make their headquarters at Mory’s are the Hogans, at present suppressed, but due some happy day to revive again. The Pundits, whose huge old brass flagon stands nobly on its shelf till it is filled with cider for their feasts. Cider is their drink, and scrambled eggs, sausage, hashed brown potatoes, apple pie and cheese their food. The Cup Men, limited to six, one being a Bones, three Keys and two St. Anthony men, who own the great pewter loving cup with its six handles, carved over with the names of the various members, among which are such as W. H. Vanderbilt, Harry Payne Whitney, Jim Gamble Rogers, all Cup Men in their day. A particular cup is served, made from a recipe brought from England by Truman Newberry, later Secretary of the Navy, which is called for under the name of “Velvet.” The sessions of the Cup Men are lively, and prolonged, it is whispered, beyond the midnight hour at which Mory’s is suppose to close—“But,” as Billy told us, with his tolerant smile, “you can’t get them out.”

Then there are the Whiffenpoofs, also at present under temporary eclipse, for the college authorities have a way of sudden suppression when wild spirits grow too wild. The Whiffenpoofs have somewhat evaded extinction by holding a series of burial parties in which they take a fond and formal farewell to life, only to repeat the performance next year. They come in costume and they sing—besides other things of a joyous nature, as well as a noisy one.

Perhaps they, more than any other of the clubs, led to Mory’s being given the nickname of The Quiet House. It is not much used nowadays, but once it was more common than its real name.

Billy went on a scouting tour as we sadly refrained from eating more pie, and returned to report that the last student had gone, and we might go down and “see the rest.”

So down the crooked stairs we went and into the first of the several small square or oblong rooms into which Mory’s divides. In the Seniors’ room was the round table known as the Seniors’ Table, at which no man not a Senior, or guest of a Senior, may sit. Round about the room are the usual oblong tables for other classmen.

The round table is beautifully carved with the initials of those who sit at it, year following year, till it is so completely covered that there is room for no more. In the centre of each table is the circle of the Cup Men, with their initials, or their names, and dates of their classes, and among the other signatures are those of distinguished guests—we made out, among the many, a W. B. Y., cut by Yeats when he was a guest there. When each of these round tables is quite full, it is taken off and hung against the wall in one of the rooms, and a splendid decoration these tables make, the dark wood gleaming richly under the carving that has been beautifully done.

There is a lot of practicing at the other tables before the actual work on the sacred circle itself.

And as we went from one room to another, more items kept coming from Billy—how the Brown Game was the great day of the Whiffenpoofs, and that their parties had a distinctly Johnsonian flavour. Mention too of the wonderful Green Cup, whose ingredients are a secret, handed down from steward to steward, that costs six dollars a quart and is as delectable as it is potent. How the Hogans each had a name, such as the Kid, naturally the biggest and the huskiest of the lot, the Plain Hogan, the Pop, the Burglar, Birdie and so on. When a Kid Hogan has a son who is his first born, that kid is to be an honourary member; but so far the eldest have been girls. In the meanwhile presents are accumulating for the youngster. We saw them hanging on the wall, tiny boxing gloves, a small pair of Chinese clogs, sent by a Hogan from that distant place, a wonderful striped shirt and attractively smart little knickers, with other tokens of yearning affection. But so far the cradle is empty.

The Hogans were specially favoured at Mory’s, and they were dearly loved. Five or six only, they were the choicest spirits in the college. Food and drink was always free to them, and is to this day. Once a Hogan always a Hogan. They used to do clerical work for the restaurant in return for the “welcome home” they got there. The parties they gave are unforgotten, and they are spoken of in the places that knew them with reminiscent smiles.

We were shown a number of the champagne bottles emptied at the dinners of the different Hogan groups, each bottle signed with all the names, and the date. They stand on one of the chimneypiece shelves, a sturdy group, but Billy confessed that one of them, now and again, mysteriously vanished.

“They’re considerable of a souvenir,” he said.

On one wall, high against the ceiling, hung a scull. It was the stroke oar of those that won the great boat race of June 19, 1914, where only the fraction of a minute intervened between the Manners and losers.

“The Cup,” we were told, as we looked on its pewter splendour and noble proportions, “is never taken down unless one of the Cup Men is present. And when it is passed round the table, it must never be set down till empty.”

Among the prints and photographs on the wall we noted one of a stern-faced woman, in a circle of wild youths—youths who seemed to have looked on the cup longer than was good for them.

“That,” said Billy, “is Carrie Nation. You know she visited Yale, and the boys had great times with her. She was too busy looking at the camera to see what they were doing—and maybe they doctored the negative a bit.”

So there she stands, grim and stout, while behind her bottles and glasses are flourished, and at her feet the heads of the seated men droop in attitudes that suggest a vast lapse from sobriety.

We were even allowed to go into the bar, a small and cosy place, exquisitely fitted up with numerous shining instruments and glittering glasses, fountains for soft drinks, and bottles that held sterner stuff. “Everything’s close at hand,” as Billy expressed it.

All this is only a part of Mory’s and its many relations with the undergraduate body. But there was more of Yale for us to see, and we departed—reluctantly, as is probably the habit of those who go there.

—Hildegarde Hawthorne, Rambles in Old College Towns (New York: Dodd, Mead & Company, 1917), pp. 130, 137-145.

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