Editorial – Dec. 19th, 1882

Editorial from the first Christmas issue of the Tiger, December 19, 1882
Editor's letter from the first Christmas issue of the Tiger, December 19, 1882

Dec. 19th, 1882.

THANKSGIVING has come and gone; it is, was, and ever will be a memorable day to us all– Amen.  Yale’s victory will haunt their classic walks and shades until early in the summer, when it will be driven off by the “three-basers” of our nine.
To the TIGER the day was one of feasting, drinking and stomach-aches.
After the first decision of the referee the Beast had but one word to express his sentiments, and that word was–(Ah! you thought we were going to give ourselves away and publish it, didn’t you?)  After the second he got right down from coach and started for the gate.  Then came the aforesaid feasting, drinking and stomach-ache.  Deimonico’s is a fine place, and is certainly “all it’ cracked up to be.”  Once seated at the centre table, the TIGER forgot his anger and his grief and proceeded to let out several barrier reefs and pitch in.
First came the soup, whose very odor seemed to say, “drink me and I’ll make you (m) oyster,” and the Beast at once assa (u) lt-ed it and proved that he certainly under stewed the purpose of his visit.  Next came Saladin the Great (est) profusion, accompanied by the most delicious Peach Preserves, which as the TIGER remarked to the waiter, “Might be musically called pp., because ’twas “very soft,” you see.
“Ah! life is indeed worth living,” muttered the Beast, as he waite for the next course, “and I don’t care one snap for all the Yale muckers in creation.  All the ‘daisies’ had on the Orange and Black, too, and that’s a great consolation.  Then Stevens cheered for us, and they say Harvard favored us, too. but I didn’t see or hear any of them.  Well, it don’t make any difference.  I don’ care one snap; no, sir; not one little snap (hic) who beats,” and he brought his glass down with a crash upon the table, which caused all the assembled guests to rise up in fear, and brought four different waiters hurriedly to his side, fondly imagining it was the click of a “dollar” against the table, all of whom were ––– disappointed.
“Ah! here he comes.  What! can this be a real 1883 spring chicken?  Quick, there, waiter! give me a ‘pullet‘ it.  Ah! thanks, kind friend, it’s elegant– elegant.  Waiter, here’s to your health.  (Hic.)  Give my regards to the cook, waiter, and tell her she’s (hic) immense.  Pass over that duck, will you, and I’ll (hic) dive under it.  Here’s to your health (hic) again, waiter, and here’s to everybody’s h-h-health.  Here’s to (hic) Princeton’s health and here’s to Yale.  Here’s to every (hic) body once (hic) more.  Here’s to Mr. Delmonico (hic), waiter, and  (hic) pass me that rabbit– may it live long and p-p-p-prosper.  I don’t care (hic) a snap for Yale or any (hic) other Delmonico (hic) mucker.  I can lick any (hic) man who slanders the (hic) cook, waiter, and I don’t care (hic) a blame for Mr. Delmon–(hic)–o or any other (hic) r-r-r-referee.  Here’s to Mrs. Delmonico (hic) and the children (hic) and (hic) the rest of the cook.  Let’s have a little (hic) wrestling match, Waiter.  You (hic) and me can lick (hic) Mr. Delmon–(hic)–o, and so (hic) can the cook.  Here’s to her  (hic) health.  (Hic.)  ‘Rah for Yale! TIGER (hic) sis, boom, Stevens.  The Referee (hic) didn’t make (hic) a single t-t-t-touchdown, ha, ha, ha!  I made (hic) ’em all (hic) myself.  So did Mr. Delmonico (hic).  Pass the (hic) eau de vie, waiter.  No, I’ll be (hic) blamed if I’ll ‘div-vy.’  I won (hic) the pot on three (hic) kings, and (hic) the cook, with the (hic) Referee to back (hic) it up.
“Here (hic)– let go of me.  I can get out (hic) without (hic) you or Mrs. Delmonico (hic) assisting me.  That’s all (hic) right, charge it (hic) to (hic) the cook (hic).  ‘Rah,-sis-boom-bah.  Har-Stevens-Yale-Referee and (hic) up for Mrs. Delmonico Langtry–g-g-g-g-good (hic) eve.
*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *
The above accounts for the lateness of the printer in “getting out” this number.  Printers should never drink as it is bad for their digestion.
P.S. – The TIGER fears he’ll die jesting.

You May Also Like