The Feeder Trough When day is half done And Devosh she is thru The rush she is on For the hash and bif stew. At slingin' the soup, These serfs with the hoe Are mighty aderpt! With Pete in the fore Plus his mighty lunch hooks Demlittle is left For the rest of the gooks. But battle they do, These gumptious gaubeens, To gurgle and better Their bellies with beans. Then all hail to the glom-shop of ye old institoosh, The Aisles of Grease throw no better caboosh. Long may she reign to dish out the droff, To the Bridgets who daily trip up to the trough. "My naked torso! Who'd ever a thunk it?" Optimism As the ever cheery athletic members of Weber College, that little old church school in the valley, are often wont to say: "We had a disastrous season of basketball this year, our tema placing fourth in a four team tournament. But we cannot resist saying that our boys were also victors. Their's was a moral vicotry in every case!" Heh! Heh! So I took the bull by the horns, and did I squeeze! Ernest (Busybody) Steimle: "Just a bunche noise!" "Grandma" Cropley is some athlet. He hikes up to Malan's every day.