Thank you for starting this thread!
I notice that the Batt contains a couple of poems about the original Rev.
My aunt, June Brown, was a young woman who had attended what became Texas Women's University for a year 1939-1940 but had had to drop out for lack of money.
Family connections got her a job as a secretary in the Genetics Dept. in the early '40s. She was much beloved on campus and found many friends among the cadets who gathered at the campus YMCA, a place to escape the rigors of Old Army life (the MSC had not been built, of course).
My aunt was a literary sort, and even at the time wrote a number of poems about the Corps and the lives of cadets on campus. These poems were often nostalgic and also filled with a sense of dread because all of the cadets were bound for WWII.
Many of her cadet friends called her "Spirit" because she ended the last stanza of "To the Aggies" with a personification:
When you go, you will leave many things
You love. But you will not fail.
You will not go alone. I shall be with
Each one of you every step of the way.
For when you go, a part of me will go with you.
And I am the Spirit of Aggieland.
The poems regularly appeared in the Batt and one is used as part of the introduction to The Cadence, which was a small hardbound book issued to the new fish each year containing pertinent information about A&M, including the Yells and the words to the War Hymn and the Spirit of Aggieland.
June also wrote a poem about Reveille, whom she knew, of course, but it was quite a bit later, in the 60s. She submitted it to Texas Monthly for publication (I have a copy of the rejection letter), but the editors--praising the poem--simply said they did not publish poetry.
Here it is:
Old Rev
(Mascot, Texas Aggies, 1931-1944)
Rev, . . .
Rev, . . .
Reveille!
Where are you, old dog?
Seasoned gridiron-halfer!
Court jester at yell practices!
Circler of bonfires!
Come on, Rev,
I know you're here somewhere . . .
Has the time been so long?
I remember when you used
To cut in and out among the Aggies
When the big T was being formed
Like a cow dog at roundup time;
Nights when you watched
From the corner of the room
With your head on your paws . . .
Always a sympathetic listener
During bull sessions.
Rev, . . .
Rev, . . .
Reveille!
You're under a tree somewhere,
You lazy, fat dog!
Just waiting with slit-eyes
For someone to give you a pat.
Old dog, if you'll come,
I'll help you up on my bench
And put your head on my lap.
I'll rub behind your ears
And hum The Songs
And chant The Yells
For you:
"1! 2! 3!
Rah! Rah! Rah!
Is my hat on straight?
Lend me your powder rag
Sweet Cherry phosphate!" . . .
Rev, . . .
Rev, . . .
Reveille!