CLASS DAY AT ORONO.

IN the course of my summer rambles I wandered as far east as Orono, the seat of the Maine State College, and, happening there in the midst of their Class-Day exercises, I took the opportunity of studying the character and customs of that institution. There are probably so few in this University who ever heard of the place that I may be pardoned for mentioning its location on the Penobscot, twenty miles beyond Bangor.

Some one has defined civilized communities as those where one can get a good beefsteak; and as this article is rarely found east of Boston, the state of civilization that exists at Orono can be easily imagined.

The morning had been devoted to a contest in ploughing, for Orono is decidedly agricultural in its interests, and before three o'clock the class of '76 had donned their frock-coats and with resplendent button-hole bouquets were marching into the town-hall.

The exercises began with a waltz played by a band of stringed instruments, prayer by the class-chaplain followed, and then the orator was introduced. His theme was the connection between education and agriculture, and he proved conclusively, to himself at least, that the prosperity of a country depends upon the farmers, and that the cultivation of the soil ought to go hand in hand with the cultivation of the mind. He did not close without censuring the corruption of the times. The children of the so-called old families, he said, inherit more vices than virtues, and he wished to have it clearly understood that while some more favored collegians [sic] indulge in aristocratic amusement, the boys of Orono did not "squander their time and money in the gilded halls of vice." (Applause.)

I had expected to discover the poet by his long hair, but this is no mark of poetic genius at Orono. They might have all been poets if this had been the only qualification. It would be unjust to him to attempt to reproduce the sentiments his poem contained. There was an evident sense of relief in the hall when he sat down and the historian arose.

This gentleman's statistics of the number of beards, the ages, the religions, the sizes of shoes, and the weights of the class seemed to interest the people of Orono, and his record of the scenes of hazing his class had been through thrilled the audience with enthusiasm. The prophecy must have been even more uninteresting to a stranger. But the valedictory reached the climax of the absurd. After informing us that this was the last time his class would ever meet together, he thanked the President and Superintendents for their leniency, and expressed his gratitude to the people of Orono for what they had done. He confessed that when he came to college he had no inclination to go into society, he was awkward in entering a room. "But you have thrown open to us your parlors," he continued, "and have enabled us to acquire ease of manner and grace as well as dignity of bearing (!)."

He was one of the most awkward men that Maine, fruitful in this species, ever produced.

The class ode was then sung with great variety of time and feeling. The words compare favorably with Tupper's last ode.

"Through the morning of our life

We have toiled with patient care,

To enrich our minds with knowledge

For the part we have to bear;

While the memory of pleasures

Flits at times across our minds,

And the thought of boon companions

Do us more closely bind," etc., etc.

Can anything in the line of Advocate poetry equal

"And as we soon our comrades

Must bid an au revoir

To meet again on this fair earth

Or on the other shore"?

Orono preserves the pleasing custom of smoking the pipe of peace. After this ceremony was over the whole class of thirty-two shook hands. It was one of the most senseless performances the writer ever witnessed; the class standing in line and shaking hands with No. 1, No. 2, and so on in order until the end of the game; but it was a fitting close for such a remarkable Class Day.