By PAT McCALLUM

A freshman has many adjustments to make
I'm sure you all can recall,
But let me refresh your fond memory
Of a freshman's first walk down Maine's hall.

One boy searches desperately for A-102
But happens to be in Wing C.
You may think this is funny, but surely not us,
For where in the blazes are we?

Sliding, slipping, tumbling, tripping,
We Freshmen hunt for our classes­
Some screaming for help in their own silent way,
As they get carried away by hail masses.

Suddenly all freshman murmuring dies
As a senior strides down the hall, glowing.
He is the envy of all freshman's eyes,
For at least he knows where he's going.

And now I will close my little reminder
Of what a freshman's plea is about.
For now when you see a forlorn little freshman,
For heaven's sake please help him out.