CLASS OF 1917
For those who read The Dartmouth it must be amusing to read all about the freshman picture which has just occupied front-page space, and notice omission of the fact that 1917 as well as 1916 knew the joy of getting a real, honest-to-goodness picture. We had two weeks in which to get the picture, as you all remember, but it only took one evening for us to assemble at the Gymnasium (of all places) and take the picture as the sun broke over, Hanover on Sunday morning with Pete Soutar snatching winks of sleep across the way at the Chi Phi House. This year the freshmen won, but owing to the devastating features of the combat there is again serious consideration of abolishing that famous old institution. It seems very safe to speak for the class in saying that the freshman picture for us did an awful lot toward welding together our class.
The class secretary attended the meeting of the Secretaries Association at Hanover a week ago. Going up he stopped at Nashua, and while there had his first glimpse of Doc Smith's famous twins, Bobby and Betty, as well as renewing his acquaintance with Mrs. Smith. The family is in splendid health, thanks to no doctor's bills. But it is a puzzle to dope out just what time D. G. has for the family in view of his numerous duties.
When in Hanover the Secretary had lunch with Charley Stone and Mrs. Stone. The Professor finds the Hanover climate and the wife's cooking very conducive to the addition of weight. And, judging from the sample of the cooking, it is easy to understand. Gosh, but it seems funny to poke your legs under the table of a real live professor at Dartmouth, and say, "pass the butter, will you, please, Charley?"
Also at Hanover the Secretary encountered one Richard L. Holbrook vending his wares to the unsuspecting merchants of the village. Dick looks fine and is quite in the midst of his work.
As to Hanover itself, it might be said that the good old town was doing its best to struggle out from beneath the solid crust of winter. Jake wished to be remembered to everybody, and Hi Croall looks for a mild summer. George McCarthy and Jim Campion (the Babson of Hanover) reports business conditions as satisfactory, but both seem to have a long lost look in their eye. Barney Thielscher had just preceded the Secretary to town, but had left before the latter's arrival.
Merle Maynard has left Nashua and gone to one of the high schools in Springfield. Details of the transfer are not forthcoming as yet.
Word has reached headquarters that bear out the suspicion that Mel Palin had tired of selling flivvers to Hindus and had returned to the U.S.A. Neither are details of this transfer forthcoming as yet.
R. W. (Rowdy) Clark reports a meeting-up with one Francis Reagan, formerly of West Leb and Hanover, now a polisher of the youth of America at the Stearns School.
Hunk Stillman sends a clipping from the faraway town of Seattle which reports an amazing theft iri the town of St. Joe, Mo. One of the thieves being named Arthur D. Stout prompted his (Hunk's) inquiry as to the last address the class had of Art. No truth to the report that Art has forsaken the Big City.
Winthrop Richardson Scudder, Jr., Cynthia Dudley Sewall,
Helen Turner Birtwell—The class of 1917 greets "you. That's three for Win, two for Bill Sewall, and one for Bill Birtwell.
George Montgomery, of whom the class has heard but little since college, is hitting very heavily in the scholastic league of Cambridge. George is an honor man at the Harvard Law School, and as a reward for his accomplish ments has drawn one of the biggest plums that come to graduates of the school. That is a desk with Cravath and Henderson of New York city. He may have lost a leg as an aviator in the King's service, but he certainly has kept his head.
By Brown's, mother sends word that the retired captain is engaged in research work in Honduras. He has been away for more than a year, and it seems about time that we were seeing that battered old war dog again. We certainly would like to see him.
It is suggested that there be a psychology clinic at the Tenth with Profs. Bushnell and Stone holding forth. Those in favor -
Forry Emery has moved to the office building in Boston in which the Secretary and Win Scudder hold forth. That makes three of us. Pretty soon the elevator starter will know all Seventeen men in Boston by their first names. Incidentally, if you want to start something just ask Win or Forry which one of the two plays the better game of golf. They're both neophytes, but oh, how the bug has bitten.
Here's Burt Gale's own story of himself: "No hits—no runs—no errors in the matrimonial league." Cleveland scouts please look this man over.
Jim Jones, formerly of Salem and now of Maiden, is one of the latest recoveries to the lengthening list of retrieved Seventeeners. He reports himself as married, and working hard with his Dad to keep the wolf from the door.
Jule Kuech sends word from Brattleboro that all goes well along the Connecticut.
The last five years have been "a period of unremitting toil dedicated to making America a better place to live in" for Bones Torrey. He represents the Torrey Roller Bushing Works in the vicinity of New York. He says that he recently encountered Tow Reycroft on the streets of the Big City.
Heinie Wacker is a budding young lawyer down in little old New York, with an office at 37 Wall Street. He recommends his arm chairs as being extremely restful, and invites any of the boys to call his bluff.
Down from the land of ice, snow and - (Canada) comes a message from Charley Wolff, who is a cotton buyer for the Canadian Connecticut Cotton Mills, Inc., of Sherbrooke P. Q.
Commencing next year all requests for the Aiumni Fund from 1917'ers around Boston will be made in conjunction with advice from Don Allen, who is an assistant cashier at the Internal Revenue office here in town. The truth will out, and believe you us, Don will have to pony up with some information concerning these wealthy, but hoarding, sons of Dartmouth.
Although awaiting confirmation, it seems safe to report that Karl Stillman has returned to his native town of Westerly, R. I., after a lengthy sojourn on the Pacific Coast.
"Nothing could be finer than to be in Carolina—" sung by Wesley C. Thompson, assisted by Hank Allison and Emerson Down Thompson (aged nine months). Wes says that Hank shows up every Sunday evening,, gets a square meal, and tends the infant. It sure would be fun to look in on that homely scene.
Those wishing, diamonds please take this address: Lawrence Doty, Wynberg, Cape Province, Union of South Africa. Ping is way off there buying leather for his firm back home here in Salem, Mass., but he surely ought to find time somehow to run out to the fields and pick up a few stones for his friends.
Bill Sewall, on account of personal and family matters, has been forced to give up his work on the Memorial Field Fund, and Rog Stone—whose address is 8 Irvington St., Boston—has taken it over. 1917 still needs $1000 to complete its quota, and in view of the fact that many of the classes, notably 1916, have pledged considerably more than their quotas, all Seventeeners who have as yet not contributed to the Fund are urged to communicate with him at once. The cause is a great one, the need for pledges urgent. And the pledges do not need to be paid before June 1, 1924.
Secretary, Ralph Sanborn, 37 Arlington St., Cambridge 40, Mass.
