Word: writer
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Dates: during 1870-1879
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...used to have the best coffee that could be obtained (except in private houses, of course) this side of Boston: its quality was fairly good, it was served hot, in the coffee-pot, at the table, and accompanied by hot milk. Our present coffee is the weakest the writer has ever seen, it is sparingly endowed with calorific properties, and plentifully supplied, in unknown and unvisited regions, with cold milk (perchance once boiled) and, I should say, with copper-filings, and maybe a pinch or two of snuff besides. At the Thayer Club we had every day good rolls with...
...compare the dinners: Memorial Hall does certainly supply us with better soup than did the Thayer Club, but, in other respects, the fare now is almost precisely the same as under the old regime. Certainly one of the worst, and to the writer an utterly inexplicable feature of that system has come down intact, namely, the furnishing to those students whose distance from home prevents their recuperating their strength with better fare on Saturdays and Sundays, the most abominable dinners on those days that could well be set on a table. A passage from Dryden is very descriptive...
...first place, the writer says that "the admirable finish and coloring which are now given to cathedral glass in American factories remove the necessity of importation." This is entirely wrong, since every piece of cathedral and antique glass which is used in the construction of windows in this country has to be imported, and that, too, from a few firms in England, as there are no other manufacturers either on the Continent or in America...
...remaining suggestions of the writer are in reference to producing and maintaining a better understanding and a more generous courtesy between the rival colleges...
...beautifully imagined to be lying between "death" and "tears." We fail to see the connection of death and tears with Greece and Rome, or why a man should search so eagerly for years at all. The next couplet is intended to show the high tone prevalent among the writer's acquaintances, but it can only happen in Montreal that joy is a regular "befaller" in woe and care. The denouement is certainly very sad; but it is at once seen that "he" would prefer even a gin-cocktail to "sobbing" with the author of this truly touching poem...