Word: campus
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...bull sessions, and even studies. Unless he's on a varsity team, its intramural program is his only athletic outlet, and, when he becomes an alumnus, its activities will form the foci for found memories, homecoming weekends, and pleas for financial support. More than any other part of the campus, it is the center of his life at Princeton...
Then follow the host of "middle clubs," subject to gradation among themselves no doubt, though here any explicit ranking would be less objective and not generally conceded: Campus, Cannon, Charter, Cloister, Court, Dial, Elm, Key and Seal, Quadrangle, Terrace, and Tower. Dial took this year's only Negro...
Certain stereotypes are associated with some of the clubs which, like all stereotypes, fail in many individual instances. They are, however, more reliable, on the whole, than the images connected with the respective Harvard houses. Thus, the campus "doers" or activity men are apt to be found in Cap and Gown or Quadrangle, and athletes tend to turn up, according to their inmost natures, either in Tiger Inn, the lair of "the gentlemen jocks," or in Cannon, home of "the sweaty ones." The captain of this year's football team, however, is in Ivy, which always has its pick...
Seven-thirty that Saturday evening and the entire class, bathed, brushed, shined, combed, and shivering, hurries through the dark night and biting wind across the campus to Prospect Street, where the grounds of sixteen plush clubhouses--and the not-so-plush Prospect Cooperative Club--stretch before them. The luckiest ones have received several bids, and join one of the big five...
...liquor and every door on Prospect Street spews forth a jubilant stream of staggering sophomores, juniors, and seniors. Leaning on each other, singing, shouting, a few pausing at the gutter to retch quietly for a moment then loudly rejoining the buoyant inebriated throng, they totter off toward the campus or a cafe where they can calm down with a cup of coffee. The fraternal transport is now at its beatific height. Arm in arm they reel indifferent to traffic or the piercing cold; one lifts his hands to the frigid heavens and races down the street backwards, his scarf...