Oh,
you gingham uniform,
With stripes of white and blue,
I think somebody ought to write
A few kind words to you.
Some of us make you fancy,
While others make you plain,
But a uniform is a uniform
There is something in the name.
We wear you when we're sewing;
We wear you when we cook;
We wear you out upon the street
No matter how you look.
We spatter you with acids
And spot you o'er with ink.
We send you to the laundry
Where you shrink and shrink and shrink.
But all this unkind treatment
Just makes you closer cling;
It seems we cannot lose you
By doing anything.
When days at school are over
And it's time to lay you by,
I'm sure that every one of us
Will pack you with a sigh.
You have witnessed all our trials,
You have shared our triumphs too,
So when we think of life at Stout
Our thoughts will include you.
E.M.W.
Source: 1915 Stout Annual
