Class of 1916
If an early and large migration of ducks and other wild fowl is a definite indication of an impending tough winter, perhaps by a similar token we may gauge the intensity and volume of Balmacaan's Biggest Barbecue by the prolific and spontaneous fountain of class chatter that has gushed into the secretarial office in the past few weeks. The boys are very much on their toes, and Balmacaan's first roar has already rumbled thrice around the world. The first rumble caught Ed Riley, cane in hand and office-bound on Piccadilly, London, Leigh Rogers in the act of hanging up his shoes after a late diplomatic session at the Cafe du Coq d'Or, Paris, and "Eskie" Eskeline putting the poppies to bed in far off Manchuria. Instinctively the three paused, and facing east, repeated the mystic motives of the sorcerer, Balmacaan. The seals are set, the totems carved and the campfire kindled for the Big Return—June 18-June 26, 1926.
Earl Cranston has been to Boston and departed, but not without fraternizing with the "locals." Earl was a not infrequent attendant at the '16 luncheons during the summer, and we recall with considerable pleasure his vivid narration of events and experiences in the Yangtze zone of China. Completing his summer course at Harvard in late August, he attended a farewell luncheon with Mr. Filene and the Secretary and departed for Michigan. He expects to complete his graduate studies in New York during the coming year, and then again take the trail that winds 1300 miles into the mountains of central China.
Under the caption "Gay Dartmouth Grads Inspire Other Alumni," the Butte, Montana, press features "Ev" Parker as follows: "Everett Parker, who moved to Butte from the East after his graduation from Columbia a few years ago, gave his impressions of Butte young women. Mr. Parker took undergraduate work at Dartmouth and post-graduate work at Columbia. He spoke in high, astounding terms of the relative superiority of Butte young women over young women one encounters elsewhere. Mr. Parker, who has travelled extensively on the Continent, is an aesthete, a boulevardier of discriminating taste, and a connoisseur of beauty in many diverse forms, and his opinion of Butte girls may be taken as authoritative." That you may not judge too harshly of "Ev" it should be mentioned in passing that the above press comment emanated from a recent dinner of the Dartmouth College Alumni Association, Rocky Mountain Division.
Even a professional globe-trotter would fade under the strain of keeping pace with Stirling Wilson in the past few months. Under date of August 10 we were favored with a "carte postale" of the Hotel des Invalides containing the following news item: "The only place I haven't bumped into a Dartmouth man, but Prof. Licklider and 'Howie' Renfrew came over on the Homeric with me." Ten days later a postcard view of London announced that Sterling had bumped into Leigh Rogers escorting cane, gloves, and monocle down the Champs Elysees in Paris. "Spent two very interesting evenings with 'Leigh,' mostly at Zellis' where evening lasts until S A.M. Here for a short stay." And then under date of September 29 arrived the final bomb-shell in startling green type announcing F. Stirling Wilson as a member of the firm of Hames and Johnson, Inc., real estate and investments, of St. Petersburg, Fla. The contents of the letter make too good reading to be passed up, so we will continue in the December issue. Before turning, however, to the next Balmacaaner afield we must quote Stirling s parting sentence: "In spite of my distance from Lake Morey I'm counting on checking in when Jack English gives the signal for the opening chord."
Scarcely had we digested the abovementioned communication when Ernie Cutler called to advise that Bill Mott had been turned up as missing. Persistent inquiry brought out the fact that Bill, too, had been lured by the call of fortune and had taken the golden trail to the land of "wonderful winters and delightful summers."
During the latter part of August Fred and Dorothea Bailey, the two Misses Bailey, the maid in waiting, and even the Bailey cat and parrot, with full accouterment, stopped off in Hampton, N. H., on their way to Maine to spend Fred's three weeks' vacation and surplus assets. Gran and Ruth Fuller, previously reported as summering on the fashionable North Shore, were the host and hostess for the brief stop-over. The Secretary and wife, who spent their week-ends in a tree bordering the Fuller estate, completed the reception committee. Some two weeks later Gran ran across Abe Lincoln in a traffic tangle on the Newburyport turnpike, and after effecting a compromise with Abe's cash customer, inveigled the flying bachelor 'into a brief visit. It was afterward reported that the Russian princess at the Hotel Wentworth, Newcastle, N. H., had departed in a huff after waiting two hours for one C. K. Lincoln. The Fuller register discloses the fact that Howdy Parker and Belle Whiteomb were among the season's weekenders, but the natives will attest to the fact that "Howdy," bathing suit or no bathing suit, didn't venture within 'steen feet of the breaking surf. While the season cannot be classed as a complete success owing to the first absence in years of Gene McQuesten, it was officially closed upon the arrival and departure of Ralph and Ruth George. Under a broiling sun Ralph conclusively demonstrated that the wearing of the old-style fireman's galluses was not an impediment to his game of tennis. Take note that the Fullers are returning for the season of 1926.
Of the greatest interest to us all is the latest report from Don Fuller, stating that he is feeling very much stronger and hoping to resume active participation in the near future. Don has been regaining his strength in the quiet, country surroundings of Rowley, Mass., where he passed the last few months with his family. Perhaps it won't be a welcome sight when the curly blond head bobs into the Dartmouth Club of Boston once again.
On Thursday, September 24, the Boston Chapter of Balmacaan celebrated the third annual outing and field day at the invitation of Mr. A. Lincoln Filene. The scene was again laid at the Sandy Burr Golf Club, Wayland, Mass.
Since the Secretary was able to be present only long enough to meet the host and the visiting 1916 athletes at the start of the afternoon play, the recounting of the activities is left to Gran Fuller.
"Vic" Porter, "Ernie" Cutler, and Mr. Filene scored within the required figures of the "kickers" handicap tournament. Mr. Filene withdrew from the select circle, and Vic was the lucky man on the draw, winning a handsome leather bill-fold with gold edges. "Vic" passed this around the table, but received only a few calling cards and a sole penny.
Thirty men sat down to a sumptuous dinner at 6.30, and following this, a few moments of silence were observed in respect to the memory of our late beloved leader, Pete Soutar, who was with us at the 1924 outing.
Announcements were made of the plans for the football season, and the party then adjourned to Mr. Filene's home in Weston, where Mrs. Filene, her daughter, Mrs. Dodd, and a friend ably maintained the family reputation for hospitality. Each man was presented with a corncob pipe, the stem of which was shaved to permit the writing of names, class, and date. The pipes were later hung on the wall of the den to add to the already large collection.
Hobey Baker rendered his customary "softand-low" for the melodious duo of English and Upham, then more refreshments, and the party broke up in time to allow Mr. Filene to catch his morning train for the office. The execution of all details of the day's program was handled by Harry Floyd '09 in his usual efficient manner, and it was a real program and a red letter day for the Boston Chapter of Balmacaan.
We regret that owing to lack of space we are unable to make use in this issue of the very interesting news from DeWitt Stillman, Dan Lindsley, Ros Magill, Ed Kiley, Charlie Everett, Rog Evans, and many others of recent date. These notes will appear in the December issue.
Forget all else if you must, but remember the Balmacaan Roar and keep it howling! "Perc" Burnham awaits the magic papers that feed the bank.
Secretary, 35 Sargent St., Melrose Highlands, Mass.
