CLASS OF 1926

Well, men, here we are one year and part of a summer out of college and what's to be said— doesn't seem that long, does it? Rather like a period of numbness, a coma out of which we might awake to find ourselves returning from a peerade to go to classes. The fact is, however, a class known as 1927 has marched up to receive their- diplomas and we go to second place. Instead of being known as the youngest alumni, we are now to be known as one of "the younger classes." Don't break down and confess it to strangers, however; simply say nonchalantly, "I was Dartmouth '26, you know." That, I'm sure, will identify us.

Our unofficial first was a thing of joy, I'm told. Rumors flew thick and fast; but I believed none, but waited for first-hand, reputable dope. It came in the shape of a letter from H. H. Gibson, a man of '26. He says, "It was a, great party nevertheless, and Mrs. Walker certainly gave us a fine meal." How, schoolmates, can we account for that underlined nevertheless? Frankly, I was puzzled. Perhaps you can help. In the preceding paragraphs Gibson had used words such as "condiment," "official mixer," "taster," "tray." My hope is that some one among those who attended, say Bob Salinger, Clyde Hall, Ted Sullivan, Herb Darling, Hank Greeley, or Carl Blunt, or Mac McGinn; perchance Colladay or Farwell; maybe Tom Littlefield or Babe Allen, Hayvvard, Smith, Sage, Collins. Oh me, can't one of these men enlighten the class? It surely must have been a "time of times." Why couldn't we all have been there!

Months of sleuthing and cautious inquiry have rewarded the 1926 scrivener with bits of news. Fraught with dangers but undismayed, this same scrivener has shadowed 1926 men, and profiting by their errors, he has garnered confidential information. Don't, for heaven's sake, breathe it to a soul—it might get around among the class—l mean we mustn't mention the fact that Barber, Semple, and Mann have gone abroad to be followed soon by Fred Hurd, who will study in Paris for a year, spend a few months in Germany, bum around the world, and then maybe teach. Nor would we have it out that Dick Smith will go with Ginn & Company, Boston, that Tully gyped the College out of a diploma this June, or that Lou Ingra- ham is in New Zealand. And, my dear, did you hear about Seely, secretary to a millionaire, touring the mountains this summer, then to Miami for the winter; and Borden, well, he got an "A" from Babbitt at Harvard and has actually a job at the University of Chicago next year. And they say that Pren Carnell is going into business in Albany, while Bob Breyfogle will be a student at Magdalen College, Oxford. Also, and mind you, this is confidential, John Ouzounian is selling shoes on the road, in a tray slung over his shoulder, I imagine. And Bernard Cooney is at Columbia Summer School getting ready to teach this fall; while Hugh Moore advertises Kelvinators in Detroit, and Per Merry is a department store man in Lexington, Mass. Keep all this quiet, you understand. Wes Ford can be found at Elgin, Illinois, A 1 Bishop at Newark, and Nick Nickerson with the Chase National Bank, New York. But I'm afraid I have told you too much already, especially since it is August. Besides, I'm a good little listener, so shoot me a few secrets. I sincerely don't promise that the class won't hear every bit of it.

I'm rather worried about the letters I owe to some of you. I appreciate them, every one, and they mean a lot to me. Sometimes, you know, the weeks slip by and they go unanswered. I hope each month that those of you whom I haven't written to will consider this communication a long epistle for your personal perusal. I mean it that way, if you don't mind by being personal. You get the idea?

As a class, we have to consider the question of the ALUMNI MAGAZINE for the coming year. Shall we again cover a blanket subscription with funds from the treasury, which we can do, or shall we drop that and rely on individual subscription? It is your Secretary's own humble opinion that as a class unit we will benefit more by continuing the present plan for another year as long as we can afford it. After that, I'm sure we won't be able to get along without the MAGAZINE. Let Doug, Siel, or me know what you think.

So much for this time. Bring on news of further exploits, achievements, and phenominal rises of 1926.

In '26.

Late Bulletin From the Hills

We have noted our harassed secretary's plea for enlightenment and will undertake to give some brief notes from the memories of eyewitnesses. The dinner was held on Saturday evening, June 18, planned and supervised by those capable dragomans, Ritchie Smith and Sid Hay ward. As the hour struck Messrs. Dick Mann, Carl Blunt, Bob Salinger, Monty Colladay, Jack Roberts, Heinie Sage, Hal Gibson, Tommy Farwell, Sid Hayward, Bob Breyfogle, Ritchie Smith, Jud Bellaire, Tommy Littlefield, Charlie Collins, Dean Chamberlain, Babe Allen, Doug Everett, Clyde Hall, Hump Campbell, Herb Darling, Per Johnson, Charlie Jost, and Clarrie Taylor filed into the room, and from then on the welkin rang and "the youngest class" took things under control in a way that bodes well when it has achieved its growth. We went away, irresponsible and carefree, after drowning our worldly cares in the only fit way to drown.

Later on Walt Moore, Randall Cox, Chuck Abbott, Eddie Fowler, Charlie Bishop, Red Raisbeck, Dick Sagendorph, Ted Sullivan, Joe Kinney, Granny Knight, and Maurie Quint arrived in town, so all in all it was a pretty sizable reunion.

It may be of interest to know that those hardy perennials, Pete Blodgett, Steve Ryan, and Curt Wright, have wended out into the hard, hard world at last.

The class of 1926 boasts the following additions to its holders of degrees as a result of the 1927 Commencement. Tiny Marsans, George Tully, Ed Dooley, Heinie Sage, Hump Campbell, Fred Wenck, George Starke, Red Raisbeck, Jud Bellaire, Eddie Hanlon, Okey O'Connor, Dan Drury—surely an illustrious collection.

We have a little human interest story this month—Red Boyce is working in a Federal Prohibition Office testing contraband. Rumor has it that when he has accustomed his constitution to all the brands he plans to pick up the discarded mantle of education. He claims that he will have the best preparation for a college career that can be obtained.

Daniel Webster's Plough

Secretary, 342 Madison Ave., New York