Blizzard last night. Roderick and Molly cuddled under the covers and listened to the howling wind.
This morning, Roderick awakes, sits up and tentatively plants a naked foot on the floor. Yow, it's cold. Donning his slippers, he pads over to the window to peer out at what the storm has wrought.
Great drifts of snow snake across the Quad. One of them touches the lowest branch of the Thinking Tree; branches of the Kissing Tree bend low under the weight of the snow.
The Adirondack chairs that populate the Quad are buried.
It's early, and nobody is up and about. The surface of the snow remains pristine. Roderick sighs. It's pretty.
Fortunately, the Dining Hall is connected to East Quad by a covered arcade, so there's no need to brave the snow to get breakfast. Molly and Roderick scuttle quickly across the arcade which, though covered, is open to the elements.
"It's freezing!" shivers Molly.
Roderick maintains his laser-like focus on the important things in life. "Let's eat." He heads for the scrapple counter.
"Excuse me, Roderick?" It's Mr. Wellington Wells, who runs the Old Ivy Savoyards.
"Hi," says Roderick. He's thinking about how many pieces of scrapple he will have this morning. Four sounds about right.
"We're doing The Mikado in March and need a Clarinet -- can you join us?"
Roderick pauses. Hmmmm. Bach Chorale every Sunday, three concerts this semester for the Chamber Orchestra, plus tonight's Vienna Ball and miscellaneous concerts like the Schubertiade. Whew, it's a lot.
"Did you say The Mikado? Sure, I'll do it."
The chit-chat makes him hungry. He takes six pieces of scrapple.
Tonight is Old Ivy's annual Vienna Ball, where Old Ivy students dress in their finest garb and waltz to the strains of the Old Ivy Strauss Orchestra under the direction of Mr. Wienerwald. Roderick agreed to play in the orchestra, so he cannot escort Molly; Molly does not care to be escorted by anyone else. There is no need for a piano in the orchestra, so Molly practices by herself on the Bosendorfer in the Conservatory while Roderick plays such favorites as Wiener Bonbons, An der schönen blauen Donau, Künstlerleben, Geschichten aus dem Wienerwald and the beloved Frühlingsstimmen, in which Anna sings the Soprano part.
In 1907, members of the Annual Ball Committee agreed to include polkas on the menu together with waltzes and quadrilles. This year Mr. Wienerwald has selected 'S gibt nur a Kaiserstadt, 's gibt nur a Wien!, the title of which translates from Viennese dialect to Only One Imperial City, One Vienna!.
The Annual Ball Committee has agreed to no changes to the musical program since then, though they did agree in 1937 to drop the toast to His Imperial and Royal Apostolic Majesty,Francis Joseph I, by the grace of God Emperor of Austria; Apostolic King of Hungary, King of Bohemia, Dalmatia, Croatia, Slavonia, Galicia, Lodomeria, Illyria; King of Jerusalem, etc.; Archduke of Austria; Grand Duke of Tuscany, Crakow; Duke of Lorraine, Salzburg, Styria, Carinthia, Carniola, the Bukovina; Grand Prince of Transylvania; Margrave of Moravia; Duke of the Upper & Lower Silesia, Modena, Parma, Piacenza, Guastalla, Oswiecin, Zator, Cieszyn, Friuli, Ragusa, Zara; Princely Count of Habsburg, Tyrol, Kyburg, Gorizia, Gradisca; Prince of Trent, Brixen; Margrave of the Upper & Lower Lusatia, in Istria; Count of Hohenems, Feldkirch, Bregenz, Sonnenberg, etc.; Lord of Triest, Kotor, the Wendish March; Grand Voivode of the Voivodship of Serbia etc. etc..
Abandonment of the toast had nothing to do with the death of the Emperor, the abdication of his successor, dissolution of his Imperial fief or subsequent political events; rather, the practice had emerged among Old Ivy students to take a drink after the reading of each province named in the title, so that after the toast the Ball tended to collapse into drunken chaos.
The time slot needed to read the official grand title and render the toast is now given over to playing the Kaiser Walzer.
