Word: octet
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Prophecy is a dangerous pastime; but the handhill of this octet shows a mocking similarity to the jacket of the previous volume. Is it possible that another parody is about to be born? The history of that ancient literary form is an honorable one in the University. Aristocrats and Proletarians are not forgotten; the Harvard Magazine, now serenely buried, was once a recurrent ghost who mimicked himself from vari-colored pages; and the buzz of a recent mockgad-fly still echoes...
Another of those attacks on the newly-hatched octet of Harvard poets...
...Harvard football songs. The organization is divided into a mandolin club and a banjo club. The mandolin club features semi-classical selections, while the banjo club limits itself to football songs and popular music. In addition the club introduces specialties such as a jazzy orchestra and a male octet. The officers this year are J. F. Bradlee '22, president; Howard Elliot '22, leader; E. H. Smith '22, secretary and treasurer; J. L. Walker '23, manager. The organization will be coached by William Rice...
...cast, as announced last night, includes ten major female roles and three male, besides a large chorus of women's voices, and an octet from the Glee Club. The singers and their parts are as follows: Aeneas, J. F. Lautner '21 Sailor, H. MacFadden '21 Sorcerer, M. A. Shattuck 2L. Dido, Miss Doris Underhill Belinda, Miss Mathilda Ward Attendant, Miss Lydia Leider First Woman, Miss Martha Bliss Second Woman, Miss Frances Doane First Witch, Miss Mildred Ellis Second Witch, Miss Susan Thompson First Sorceress, Miss Isabel Kellock Second Sorceress, Miss Mary Olmstead Spirit, Miss Ann Gardner...
...however, have swamped the hero whom the Atlantic surges could not harm. Condensation is sadly needed. Mr. Putnam would voice the emotions of a Nietzschean Superman trying to behave like an Elizabethan gallant, with disastrous results. His Sonnet (the form should not be divided like a Petrarcan sonnet, into octet and sestet) is a rash venture into archaic realms. Mr. Sanger's "Children's Land," faintly reminiscent of the song that thrilled the Brushwood Boy, is mildly pleasing though not distinguished. An occasional awkward line mars the smoothness of its metre. "Awakening," by Mr. Cram, wherein