CLASS OF 1915
The latter part of February and the first of March seem to be devoid of anything of interest. There is no news; everyone you meet immediately starts telling a tale of woe, of family sickness and the like; the coal bin is a mere shadow with no filling. And then the telephone bell rings and a familiar voice which is at once recognized as belonging to the happiest man in Pawtucket,— "No, I haven't got time to take you to lunch today, but I just wanted to report that numerically the Sutcliffe family remains the same." Truly Adameske.
But not so with the Howe family. Hal Claflin says that Don Howe has a daughter, which makes two boys and a girl for Don, I believe. But like a good uncle-by-law, Hal couldn't remember the new young lady's name nor whether she arrived in January or February, so it is up to Don to supply the missing date himself.
If there are any automobile salesmen in the class they ought to be able to sell Hal Claflin a car right now, as he is a red hot prospect, and only knows that he wants the best car for the least money. If he should meet George Read at the Motor Show, George will have made a sale.
Georgia Low, six-year-old daughter of Fletch and Margery Low, passed away February 13 following an appendicitis operation and subsequent infection. The severity of such a loss cannot be overestimated, and the sympathy of each member of the class has been with Fletch and Margery during their trial.
Joe Harris has forsaken the peach groves of Georgia and the payroll of Wm. Randolph Hearst. Now we find him listed in the selling organization of the Best Foods, Inc., with headquarters in the New York office.
John Kimball burst into print again the morning after the Boston alumni dinner,—it was an inexcusable oversight on the part of this reporter that the news was not printed last month. But the fact remains that John got himself elected a director of the Boston Alumni Association, which position he has so capably and efficiently occupied this past year.
Just a short time ago and just about long enough after he had been married, Red Folan had a housewarming in the family's new apartment. But it was all planned on the spur of the moment, and happened so suddenly that Red and Frances did not have time to invite any of the boys down. Some of the neighbors came in with pails of water, and the local fire department wet down everything within reach of the hose. Frances says that they didn't lose much in the fire, but everything was pretty well dampened.
Secretary, 24 Federal St., Boston
