Class of 1923

I happened to glance at a recent issue of The Dartmouth and found the following article:

"HEELER CATCHES PETE HOWE ALL ALONE IN DARK CORNER?

The following is one of a series of articles pertaining to former editors of The Dartmouth:

The 1923 editor of The Dartmouth was discovered in an obscure corner of The Atlantic Monthly offices, filing advertising contracts by countries. When he saw The Dartmouth's interviewer approaching, he (made as if to run, wincing from prospective publicity. We later found that this cringing modesty is often a telltale earmark of the advertising profession.

Backed into a corner into which he led your correspondent, who was then made comfortable with a morris chair and a Palaeopitus cigar caged in 1923 and treasured since, the public relations counsel then abandoned reticence and spoke unfalteringly from the heart:

"My experience on The Dartmouth was of unquestioned value to me. I wanted to marry a stern Episcopalian deacon's daughter, and was not making much progress in winning the cold parental consent. Just at that time, fortunately, a revered bishop died. By scourging the library (no, silly, I mean figuratively) I secured enough data for a profound and inspiring editorial on the late divine. It saved the day and won the hand of fair Nell.

"Then again, I wished to tell my lady of undying affection and turned out what I hoped would be my monument—a stirring appeal for admission to the curriculum of a course in Psychology of Love I and II. Unfortunately that evening the Dean chanced to be strolling—but that's another story.

"Other points—we had an unusually prosperous year in 1923, and with my share of the profits, I bought a wedding ring ($5.50), a ticket to New York, and two weeks' lodging at the Allerton House."

Mr. Howe mentioned briefly other factors which made the drudgery of Robinson Hall bearable: nice white hats of Palaeopitus, the privilege of marching in the mud right behind the band while drumming up trade for fall and winter mass meetings; priceless earlymorning conferences over the make-up forms with the then—and now it is hoped—president of the Norwich Fish and Imperial Quart Club; the opportunity of tucking in an occasional covert slap at national fraternalism and a corresponding boost for that first and only chapter (deleted by order New Hampshire Assembly, J. P. Richardson, King).

Mr. Howe has long since recovered from the superiority complex felt by all editors over advertising managers, and is now available to contract signers in the Eastern Manager's office of the Atlantic Monthly, 200 Fifth Avenue, New York. During 1927 a bright green button will be given all Dartmouth men sending in 12 page orders, and renewals will get a letter of introduction to any one or all of a dozen laddies writing insurance on Mr. Smith's w. k. sidewalks.

George McKee has been heard from once more. He is still selling Schrafft's chocolates and is doing very well. George has been forced to cut down on his golf playing since leaving college, but promises a mighty comeback this June on Hanover's renowned course.

Again congratulations . are in order. On Christmas day, Martin J. Suydam was presented with a son.

Jim McCabe writes from Winnipeg that he, too, is a proud father. Patricia Elizabeth Mc- Cabe was born on January 29.

Bob Charles is with the Craftex Company here in Boston. He is their chief chemist and spends most of his time working out new uses for Craftex.

Les Gutterman is putting through plenty of big deals these days. He is with the James H. Henderson Cos.—real estate—and will look after anyone interested in a house.

Please accept my thanks for the recent news forwarded to me. I have answered most of the letters and before long will attend to the others.

Secretary, 701 Cambridge St., Brighton, Mass.