USA > Ohio > Butler County > Oxford > Old Miami, the Yale of the early West > Part 9
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"The half-box of collars and four or five dollars, With which every singer had started, Had from day to day been dwindling away Till the last collar and cent had departed.
With all their reverses and draining of purses, They still kept in sight of their glory, Till civic dissensions upset their intentions, And also put a stop to my story."
Baseball was then just coming into its own. It was no child's play either, in the original package. Curved balls were un- dreamed of, and the pitcher just stood up and sent hot straight ones whistling over the plate, that left a pale-green streak in the air. There were no great padded gloves, either, and when the batsman smote that whistling sphere square on the nose and turned it into soaring fly
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or careening grounder, horny bare hands were all there was to stop its progress. It is not surprising that scores were enormous under such conditions, and it was a poor "club" that didn't register at least forty "tallies" in a single con- test. Neither is it surprising that the young game was frequently attacked as rough and dangerous, and needed con- stant defense in words like these: "We are aware that there are some objections to the game of baseball, and that these objections are being urged by some of our ablest writers; but where is there another exercise so eminently fitted for develop- ing the bone and sinew of our youth, that is not attended with the same danger?" Nearly every able-bodied Miami man be- longed to a baseball club, and the roster of these organizations appears proudly in all the old publications, right beside the Greek fraternities and the literary so- cieties,
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There was one up-to-date extension of Miami's activities that didn't cost any- thing. Prompted by recent experience, the national government decided to in- stall military departments in a number of colleges, where an officer of the regular army should drill youngsters in the theory, as well as the tactics of war. Doctor Stanton fairly leaped at the op- portunity and soon had little old Miami placed upon the list, with Colonel Carle- ton detailed to teach the young idea liow not to get shot. The boys were elated- at first. Some of the old-timers who had seen service were strangely apathetic. But the younger fry could hardly wait to get their fingers on a musket and tog out in the fine new uniforms for a stroll past the "Scott House." Two new photog- raphers hurried into town on prospect of the beauteous military likenesses to be sent home to mother. All too soon came
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the reaction. The cloth for the uniforms was all winter in arriving, and then was so flimsy that the modest fellows blushed in anticipation every time they thought of bending over. The equipment, to be do- nated by the state, was even slower than the uniforms. The drill was irksome and the discipline severe. What was the use of all this panoply of war, anyhow?
Then some bright youth saw a light. These things would do splendidly to play pranks with. One biting winter night the battalion went into action, without awaiting orders from the Commander. The University cannon was stealthily drawn from its hiding-place, and pushed and pulled, with great pretense of se- crecy, to the commanding hill just in front of the Western Seminary. Aunt Helen was to have an appropriate mid- night salute. The old gun-barrel was packed almost to bursting, a long fuse
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was attached and lighted, and the cohort beat it double-quick to white and peace- ful coverlids in the dormitories. There was an explosion on the hill that brought all the little maidens bolt upright in bed and got the volunteer fire-fighters ready for immediate action. There were shrieks and moans and cackles through the halls for some fifteen minutes; and then the Seminary, being schooled in philosophic self-control and assured there was not another fire, dropped back into pleasant dreams of blue-eyed missionaries with sandy whiskers.
Next morning brought the sequel. A husky group of young Amazons took that horrid old field-piece, shoved it daintily over the somewhat slippery brow of the snow-clad hill, and let it roll and rattle down the incline until it sank beneath the waters of the little frog-pond below.
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Just about that time somebody up at Miami remembered that the old cannon was state property, and would have to be accounted for or paid for. Paid for? . Whew! Doctor Stanton had things under way in ten minutes, and it was not long till the culprits were located. There was only one punishment-restore the gun. From morning till night they toiled and muttered in the icy waters of that West- ern pond, while numerous coy young ladies, who were afraid of "snakes," made audibly unpleasant remarks from the heights above. Colonel Carleton him- self was popular, but there were few re- grets when he was withdrawn from the University and the department closed.
But bless you, pranks didn't stop for anything. Doctor MacFarland still tells with delight of his experience in a spring carnival where a certain Junior caught a Tartar. It was one of those stifling
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moon-soaked nights just before com- mencement, and there was deviltry in the very air. First the Juniors got into ac- tion, and removed the furniture from Doctor Stanton's office and class-room, carrying it all the way to the "Scott House" and leaving it on the much- abused flower-beds. Hardly had they left the building when the Freshmen ap- peared, eager to acquire some of the spirit of the institution. They promptly went to work filling the vacated rooms with fragrant new-mown hay from the campus, adding a liberal sprinkling of cord-wood and scrap-iron. About this time Professor Mac noticed the disturb- ance and sauntered over to take notes. Hardly had he settled in the shadows of the stair when the Juniors, flushed with achievement, returned and rushed the Freshies, intending to scare them out of their callow wits. At this point the pro-
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fessor stepped from the stairway and al- lowed himself to be grappled by the Jun- ior leader who came dashing down the halls. "I've got him!" yelled the captor, taking no gentle grip on the supposed Freshman collar. Now war experience will tell sometimes, and Professor Mac had seen too much service not to meet an enemy half way. There was a sound of frenzied tussling, the vision of a shape- less, struggling heap in the moonlight, and then the same Junior voice, hoarse with terror, was lifted up in one mighty wail, "Run, fellers, run! He's got me!"
About this time old Oxford herself was perking up quite a bit, thank you. For years she had rejoiced in a real rail- road that went nowhere in particular, had boasted two hotels that shared the business of one, and had absorbed culture in heroic doses from Erodelphian exhibi- tions and the public examinations at Ox-
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ford College. In the decade following the outbreak of war, three or four imposing two-story business houses were erected; and it is hard to stop a wave of civic im- provement once started. The reformers fixed hostile eyes on the old market- house between the parks, with its yawn- ing emptiness inside and its ungainly tower above. Once it was the pride of the community. Now, they said, it had to go, to make room for a modern town-hall where the populace inight assemble on festal days, and the fire laddies stow their pretty red helmets. Many of the popu- lace, who had taxes to pay, demurred at this, and the project gave signs of being talked into insensibility around the stove of the corner grocery. Then the Miami students took a hand. They reasoned it this way. As long as the village had in- tact one piece of public property like the market-house, civic economy would never
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permit her to tear this down and build better. Ergo, some disinterested party should do the tearing down.
One inky night the student body moved en masse upon the market-house. The procession looked like a well-equip- ped lynching bee, for there trailed behind them the longest, strongest, most mur- derous-looking rope to be had in Oxford. A half-dozen climbed to the tower and securely knotted the rope about it, while every fellow below spat on his hands and gripped hard, waiting for the signal. Oh, nothing much-they had just arranged to pull down the tower and help the village on a bit. The signal came, likewise the tug. The structure creaked and groaned, and slowly seemed to give a little. Then suddenly "Crack!" Also "Kerplunk!" With military precision four-score breathless students sat down hard in the Main Street inud and gave imitations of
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a back somersault. Something had had to give way, and it was the rope. Four successive times they patched up and pulled again-each time with greater caution; and finally, sore and disgusted, stumbled off through the darkness for home. But joy cometh in the morning! For breaking day disclosed the edifice no longer mocking them in its perfect pride, as they had feared, but actually pulled by sheer muscle some thirty degrees out of plumb, where it remained for years as a monument to student enterprise --- the leaning tower of Oxford. For be it known, that town hall wasn't built for a long time afterward.
In many respects the quaint old mar- ket-house, with its drooping top, and yawning, wind-swept interior, was sym- bolical. The time-honored structure of historic Miami was crumbling in decay, though the short-sighted patronage that
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laid hands to the rope could not complete its destruction. All too soon the winds were to howl through its deserted corri- dors, while newer institutions profited by its legitimate patronage. To the last, students continued to gather in goodly numbers and were unswerving in their loyalty to the decrepit, purse-pinched old establishment. To the last the old Miami spirit was manifest, and the old fire of common devotion shone in'the eyes of all the faithful in those student ranks. Right before them loomed dissolution, bringing severed ties and clouded ambi- tions. But they forced the old smile somehow, and the old songs rang bravely from their lips. Finally the demands of advancing education became such that the limited resources failed completely to meet them. The trustees confessed the absolute necessity of closing the Univer- sity until land-rents had accumulated to
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a working capital. With the Commence- ment exercises in 1873 the doors of Miami were formally swung for the last time on their clumsy hinges, and the village live-stock invited to feed at will upon the luscious campus they had coveted so long. Faculty and students drifted into other centers of learning throughout the land, and old Miami became a glorious memory.
For twelve years this memory lingered, and then the public would be content no longer. Alumni fairly pined away each June, without the privilege of sauntering once more be- neath the elms and swapping reminis- cences. Then, too, they had fine young sons to educate-just like their daddies, bless their hearts- and there was nothing like a few years of that old-time Oxford life to put a young fellow on his feet before the world. So
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the people clamored and the trustees did sums in arithmetic, and at last the pro- cess of rejuvenation began. Even then the commonwealth was slow to realize its responsibility; but as it gave, Miami prospered, to a degree beyond the fond- est limits of ambitious fancy.
At last the hour of jubilee has come. Aggressive modern methods have supple- mented the precious but antiquated tra- ditions of the past. New buildings now dot the spacious campus, redolent of paint and prosperity. Corridors are thronged with busy students, just as am- bitious and as callow as of yore. The old name is retained, with no thought of any- thing but a becoming reverence. Miami is a high-grade small college, with all a small college's advantages, and as such has already achieved a new and national reputation for sincerity of effort and ex- cellence of result. But no true child of
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her bosom will ever cease to honor those splendid ante bellum years when she was "The Yale of the West."
THE END.
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