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Show UTONIANNineteen TwelveThe Junior PromenadeIT IS half past nine of the evening of February twenty-fourth. Glad to be free, the harmonious strains of Tannhauser swell tumultuously into the spacious University gymnasium. A bowing invitation from Governor Spry, a graciousacceptance from Mrs. Kingsbury, and together the Governor of the State and the wife of the University President lead off the grand march. The Junior Promenade of the class of 1912 is under way! Never has the big gym been more brilliant; never more artistically more appropriately decorated. A broad promenade, lined on either side by pillars of snowy marble, which in turn are spanned by crossbeams of the same glistening material, skirts the entire hall. Here, in open booths, ornate with brilliant electric insignia, with ferns and climbing greenery, with artistic outdoor furniture, the various fraternities and student clubs extend hospitality to their friends. And their friends, delighted, cluster about the inviting booths, refreshing themselves with cooling drinks, nibbling insistently at toothsome nuts, fruits, and confections. From a palm-banked balcony above the booths on the long east wall of the gymnasium, music, now dreamily caressing, now free and joyous, wafts down upon the dancers. Overhead there are stars in a deep blue sky. Beneath it, the gay folk, in gowns of soft pink and gold and in the dignified black and white of gentleman's evening dress, move in and out among the pillars like a royal gathering at an outdoor lawn fete of the balmy south. Enchanted by the atmosphere of it all, the dancers would have been happy to whirl on until Chantecleer roused the sun. But soft, the medley is over. Only the subdued murmur of happy but tired voices; the rustle of silken gowns; the occasional sleepy call of a distant cabby is heard in the hall. Ah, now the dancers are all gone below for their wraps. The musicians have come down from their-balcony. Suddenly the brilliant hall blackens and the Junior Promenade of 1911 is a dream.The costs of that dream to the Junior class-costs of time; of money; of temper; of strength, in quarrying the marble for the pillars of the collonade; of very life-blood that came from pricked fingers that were patching stars on the sky -did the pleasure of those few brilliant hours justify them? "A hundred times over,'' the Juniors answer, "for successful effort is worth any price. And to us, the class of 1912, there never was, there never will be such another delightful, beautiful-such another perfectly successful Junior Promenade.''156 |
