An evocative woodcut of drunken frat boys falling down in the streets of Schenectady among the swine, from what stands as likely the first attack in literature on college fraternities: The Spy-Glass, edited by Fabricus Videns [Schenectady, 1840].
As the climactic canto the the “Modern Epic” included herein would have it,
“The swine, that chanc’d just then to stretch
Their quiet snouts along the ditch,
Much frightened at so queer a sight,
Gave each a grunt and took to flight.
Now Nature, as physicians say,
Provides for each emergency;
And when the stomach is oppress’d
With more than is can well digest,
It will most certainly complain,
And send its burthen out again.
And so, you see, it happened here,
Despite the pressure of the beer,
For, while our heroes’ dizzy heads,
Were resting on their pliant beds,
Their gin and oysters raised a rout,
And with a mighty rush came out.
Their loving friends, so good and wise,
All gather’d round to sympathise.”
(Sounds like a weekend in Ann Arbor after a football game.)