Word: warns
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Dates: during 1870-1879
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...chilling atmosphere which I am too weak to bear; and so I am dying, - yes, freezing - freezing to death! Sometimes the Freshmen take pity on me, and try to warm me. I heard that you were likely to do it, and so Humbug and I have come to warn you not to take the trouble. You would only prolong a wretched life, and every one would hate you, because, alas! every one hates me. I long...
...Some, like the boat-clubs, die a lingering death for want of victims; others are kept alive by men who are too zealous to take-warning by the fate of others, or too blind to heed the smiles and sneers of their classmates. The prudent man will stand aside, and let others make martyrs of themselves. Farewell, Freshman. We have more to warn to-night. Remember the watch-word, Policy! Farewell...
...great satisfaction, however, in this time of our success on the river, to know that the Captain of the 'Varsity will be with us this year, and will take his old thwart in the boat. To '82 we are looking with interest and expectancy. '82! The very figures warn us of our increasing baldness and our fast-falling gray hairs. May the Fates spare us long enough to see the Freshmen well started on the road to a "liberal education," and our own hopes realized in that tangible but often mystical thing, a degree...
...refused to renew their subscriptions to that estimable contemporary of ours. Their action is called "almost incredible," "a boyish trick," "an exceedingly selfish action," and various other pretty names. The reason of the withdrawal, according to the Targum, is "disappointment at the non-election of a friend." We warn all our subscribers, that as soon as one of them withdraws, we shall take a leaf out of the Targum's book...
...this very moment the Bell gave one loud peal, and fell prostrate before me. There, in our very midst, standing with implacable look, was the dreaded Jones himself. The soldier on guard had failed to warn us of his approach, and all was lost. Confusion reigned; the Gargoyles started on a run for Memorial, the Pumps stood helplessly trembling and shedding tears, the Bulletin Board nimbly crawled under the benches, and the Bell, half strangled by the grip of Jones, filled the air with the most shocking profanity. Terror-stricken, I took to my heels, and never stopped until safe...