Class of 1917

You have probably all read in your local newspapers of the fact that Fat Spears has resigned from his position as football coach at West Virginia in order that he might accept a similar position with the University of Minnesota. Consequently, we all want to turn to and wish Fat the very best of luck, and so long as Minnesota never plays Dartmouth, we hope that he wins every game.

Hal Walker sent us a line the other day revealing the fact that Bill Spearin is the proud father of an eight pound son. This, of course, brings our attention to the fact that Bill Spearin has violated Rule No. 1 by failing to notify the Secretary of this tremendous event. However, Hal's initiative is a compensating factor, to be sure.

News of a similar nature, but sent direct, has been received from Monk Wells, for he announces that on the Bth of June a son by the name of David was born. Now that Congress is not in session and the Capital City is well vacated, Monk probably needs plenty of time to direct (?) the up-bringing of his son and heir. More power to him! But we hope that he has the common sense to shield his son David from the terrible atmosphere of intrigue that pervades his home town.

Continuing along the same vein, we turn to a scene in Potsdam, New York, dated the 16th of June, for in that place and on that date Carol Ingersol Sisson was born. The baby has a name which does not readily disclose the gender, but Walt makes a brief statement which identifies Carol as a young lady. Our heartiest congratulations, Walt.

The thinning ranks suffered another casualty in June. Bill Fitch, wearying of single life, took unto himself as wife Miss Maxine Elizabeth Spaulding, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. C. B. Spaulding of Chicago. She is a very attractive young lady, and we hope that the wholeclass will have an opportunity of meeting her soon. As Don Litchard remarked the other day,"We are certainly few in number." He is right, and it would almost seem as though an assembly of single men at the tenth reunion would closely resemble a G. A. R. encampment in the same year.

In passing, for those who picture our old friend Walt Ferguson as a little round butterball, we wish to announce that his thinning process has left him almost without identification.

Those of you who know and remember Newt Smith will be interested to know that he is now assistant manager at the Hotel Somerset in Boston, where he plans to stay the year 'round.

We had a short note from Jesse Hawley in June, and although his report was very brief, it does seem as though he had left Texas and located in or around New York city. If any of you see Clarence in your wanderings, waylay him and get the news of his activities.

Prof. Knowlton sent us a letter after he had read our paragraph of last month. Of course, he took exception to some of the statements made, but the really important part of his letter is the statement that he will be in or around Paris all summer, so that if any of you are cruising in these parts, and are strangers, you could probably get good dope on many points from Prof. He can be reached by addressing A. Heywood Knowlton, Care of Guaranty Trust Cos., 1 Rue des Italiens, Paris, France.

Sam Thieme, who has been carried as a member of our class, even though he did originally enter with 'l6, has come out of the fog with a long letter dated May IS. A quotation from his letter reads as follows: "You know, I originally entered the Halls of Hanover as' a 'l6er, and during my short and eventful stay was officially with that class, but I know of no higher honor than to be identified with 'l7 (Cliff Bean and Fritz Cassebeer please note), and as the last man I bought a drink for was Sandy Lynch, in Pittsburgh, go ahead and register me office and home as per above letterhead." He refers to his home as Fort Wayne, Ind., and if there is any change from that, we will let you know. Continuing his letter: If you run into Slats Baxter say "Howdy" for me. This is an open invitation to you both to let me know in advance of your intention to hit this arid state, and I will whisper to the gargon to dust off the grog bottle, and teach the local band the opening bars of D-A-R-T-mouth!"

That is the kind of news we like to get, and do not forget us, Sam, for so long again.

Secretary, 37 Arlington St., Cambridge, Mass.