Word: yalemen
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...gushed through hundreds of women's clubs; and in Owen Johnson's fictional character of Dink Stover has fired the hearts of thousands of pre-Hopalong boys. It is the land of the Whiffenpoof, the Boola-Boola, the tables down at Mory's. Waggish non-Yalemen never seem to weary of calling "For God, for Country and for Yale" the outstanding single anticlimax in the English language...
Such esprit comes partly from the fact that Yale is a dynasty, perhaps the most inbred of all the ivy-league colleges. Since 1766 only one president, James Rowland Angell, has been an outsider, and today 55% of its faculty are Yalemen. It also springs from a carefully nurtured sense of responsibility and community service. One result is that Yalemen have sallied forth from New Haven to found or be first presidents of 40-other colleges & universities, until Yale has become the most successful Johnny Appleseed in the educational orchard...
...years at Yale, the last Saturday in April has been Derby Day, an event strictly for the hearty. Donning inventively outlandish costumes, Yalemen and their dates pile into trucks, horse-drawn wagons, old jalopies and chartered buses, drive ten miles to Derby, Conn. (pop. 10,264) on the banks of the Housatonic. There they drink beer, play ball, smash each others' straw boaters, throw their girl friends into the river and generally have a loud time. Some time during the afternoon there are intercollegiate crew races, the ostensible reason for the whole celebration...
...these breezy customs. A university committee (nine facultyites, six undergraduates) decided it was all too much strain: too many fights, too many girls dumped in the Housatonic, too many truckloads (twelve in 1949) of beer cans and other litter to be hauled away afterward. One special cause of complaint: Yalemen and their dates had taken to filling water pistols with beer, discharging them at elderly ladies on Derby street corners...
...Yalemen were way behind Harvardmen at gulping goldfish in the late '30s, but last week they were in the van of the latest undergraduate seizure: the Dirty Shirt Club. The idea is simple. Each club member puts up $10, takes turns at wearing the same unwashed pink cotton shirt for a day at a time. The man wearing the shirt the day it falls apart wins...