CLASS OF 1899

A letter from Tim Lynch too late for insertion in the class report contains some interesting items. Tim has supplanted George and Warren as the traveling apostle to the Californians. (Recalling the little girl in Sunday school who, when asked what the epistles were, replied that they were the wives of the apostles, we must remember that the apostle had his epistle with him.)

Tim and Detta were met in Frisco by Fat Foss, who drove up in a big car and took the Lynches for a tour of this city. Tim says that Walter has now gone into the insurance business.

They went around looking for A. H. Brown, but were unable to find him.

In Pasadena the Lynches were shown a wonderful time by the Kimballs. Kimmie, wife, and mother were hospitality itself. The Lynches missed seeing Willis Hodge, but Kimmie reported having seen him recently, and added that he was looking fine.

In Los Angeles they asked for the manager of the real estate department of the National City Bank, and found Ernest "Randolph Rab" Abbott, hidden away in a private office surrounded by stenographers, clerks, and flunkies. According to Tim, no real estate may be bought and sold in Los Angeles without Ernest's consent.

As we go to press, the Lynches are on Bright Angel Trail in the Grand Canyon. Doc Norton has written the disappointing news that he will not be in San Antonio when they come through there, as he will be away on business through the whole month of November, but Tim may stop anyway to get acquainted with the Norton family.

On Friday, October 19, there was a gathering of Dartmouth men at Concord, N. H. '99 was represented by Silver, Speare, and the Secretary. Other men of our immediate time included John Gault '95, Duncan '9B, Chan Sanborn, Clarence Butterfield, and Don Tuttle 1900. The chief speaker was Dean Laycock '96. The part of his speech which made the biggest impression upon his hearers dealt with the fact that he had predicted four years ago that Dartmouth's assets would increase from $10,000,000 to $20,000,000 inside of ten years, and now, with only four of the ten years gone, the assets were well past the $17,000,000 mark.

The old boys swapped stories as usual. The incident out of the past which caused the greatest merriment was the story of how Cav, aided and abetted by an upper-classman who is now a trustee of the College, induced a Scotch bagpiper to march, with colors Aying> into Stought's modern language room in the midst of a German recitation.

A '9B man recently confessed to his Secretary that his class, in selecting H. Philip Patey as their Secretary, had it in mind that said Philip was the best and biggest romancer (he employed a shorter and uglier word!) in college under Dr. Tucker, and offered to back him with money, marbles or chalk against any other Secretary on the list.

In a recent talk before Dartmouth, men, the Secretary spoke of the fact that the old Dartmouth names repeat in generation after generation. There are always Abbotts, Adamses, Bartletts, Browns, Chases, Clarks, Campbells, Lords, Parkers, Richardsons, Sanborns, and Sargents in Dartmouth. But when one picks up a modern catalogue and finds names like McCornack, Meserve, Lillard, Balkam, and Bankart, one realizes the strength of family tradition. As a matter of curiosity, a count was recently made of the names in the present enrollment of the college, which are duplicates of names found in the catalogues during the four years that '99 were undergraduates. The seven classes, '96 to 'O2 inclusive, aggregated about 850 men. At present there are 631 men in college bearing names of fellows who were in college with us: 149 seniors, 125 juniors, 163 sophomores, and 194 freshmen.

In the last issue of the MAGAZINE, a statement was made that George Rounds' address was unknown. This is no longer true. It is 511 North Woodward Ave., Birmingham, Mich. George wrote for tickets to the Northwestern game in Chicago, so evidently some of the men at the Pow Wow will have made contacts with him.

The Secretary was one of the speakers at Dartmouth Night. In the course of his talk he commented on the change in manners which had taken place among Dartmouth men in the last thirty years, giving full credit for his share in the reforming to Henry Teague 1900, who as the oldest living graduate of the Tuck School and the first comptroller of the Dartmouth College Dining Association, insisted that dignity and decorum should go hand in hand with proper dress and good manners at table. The next day, just before the Columbia game, he had the pleasure of discussing this with a group consisting of Henry and Gus Hadley 'OO, Jimmy Kimball 'Ol, Nate Sherman 'lO, at al. Henry acknowledged the corn, and the whole group fell to discussing etiquette, dress, etc., among the undergraduates of today as contrasted with those of former days.

The story was told of John Redington's request to Joe Wentworth to throw down the cow, and its consequences. The copperriveted, sandpaper patches of Neal Hoskins, and the whiskered oases on Johnny Warden's cheeks were contrasted with the sartorial and tonsorial elegance of the modern undergraduate.

One thing that worried the old grads exceedingly was to learn that wooding up was a thing of the past. One of them quoted the poem by George Green '9B:

"The good pine floors have stood it, While class on class have wood it; Let die the custom, could it? Woodin'-up? "No, let us go out dusty, From our Dartmouth old and trusty, With our custom never rusty,— Woodin'-up."

One fellow reminded the others of an occasion when wooding-up had actually been heard in the college church. A rather dramatic pastor was commenting on a college man's chance to prove his honesty. He told of an incident in his own freshman year in Trinity. He was flunking a chemistry examination. "The professor left the room. The book lay upon my desk. I opened it, closed it, opened it a second time, and then, my honesty rising triumphant, I closed it'with a bang!" A dramatic gesture, and the faint but distinctly audible tap, tap, tap, all around the church!

Another old grad insisted that he had heard wooding-up on a second occasion in the church, when, on the first Sunday in September, '9B, dear old Pa Leeds had come forward with the announcement that we had all been listening to every Sunday for years: "Sunday school—and Bible classes—as usual—at the close—of this service."

The New England School Superintendents' Association during the first week in November brought together a great number of Dartmouth men. Arthur Strong '92, Frank Johnson and Jim Pringle '97, Phil Patey '9B, Silver, Speare, Joy, and Benezet '99, Chan Sanborn 1900, Walter Young 1901, Erwin 'O3, and Walter May 'O5 were the men of about our time.

An item of interest to '9B men, which their secretary will undoubtedly fail to record, was brought out in the course of the conversation, when a group of the Dartmouth men assembled. It seems that Harry Goodall did not like the looks of Pate's growing waistband, and ordered him to restrict his breakfast to something like the following: one Casaba melon or its equivalent, one glass of orange juice, three soft-boiled eggs or poached eggs on toast, one piece of lean beefsteak, and black coffee. Pate is very unhappy over the prospect, but his thrifty soul consoles itself with the thought that this breakfast will cost less than his former menu.

The New England Normal School Association met in Boston on November 8. In order to play safe, the president appointed a nominating committee consisting wholly of the three living ex-presidents of the Association! Ernest Silver '99 was the chairman.

The Secretary enjoyed a little round-up in Boston with George Clark, Charles Donahue, and Jim Barney. The immediate occasion was the beginning of plans for the great Trigintennial in June, 1929. As it now looks on paper, it is going to be the best and biggest reunion yet. All sorts of plans are under way. Peddy Miller and Joe Hobbs are the only two members of the class who are not sure of attending, and both expect to be overseas at the time, although now that the date has been set forward to June 14, Joe may make it.

On October 27, the Secretary was called to Cleveland, Ohio, to meet with a committee of the N. E. A. in connection with the coming midwinter meeting, which is to take place in Cleveland. He called up Whiskers Crowell 'Ol, and was told that there was a Dartmouth luncheon that noon at the Statler Hotel. At the luncheon, when the president found that there was a graduate present who had seen the Dartmouth team in action recently, the Secretary was called upon to make a prediction as to the outcome of the Harvard game which was due to start within two hours. He did so, telling the crowd that the Harvard line was stronger and heavier than ours, but that Dartmouth had a good chance to win, because of its team work and superior knowledge of the game, and smartness of the individual players. A little while later the radio opened up, and the gloom began to thicken.

The Cleveland crowd is a very young bunch, but full of pep and enterprise. Mort Crowell and Ivan Greenwood are the two patriarchs of the group. A Williams graduate was present at the luncheon, for the purpose of making arrangements for a twelve- passenger plane to take part of the crowd first to Ithaca and then to Evanston, 111., by the air route. John Childs 'O9 was on from Chicago to sell the Pow Wow and the Northwestern game to the Cleveland aggregation. He spotted Ivan in the front row, and remembered him "as the plunging fullback of his freshman year.

On the day of the Norwich game, Jim Richardson was seated in his house, mourning over the fact that he was unable to see the team in action, when suddenly the door opened, and in poured four stalwart ex-football players, headed by Norman Crisp and Johnny Phillips. Assuring him that the doctor had said it was perfectly 0. K., they picked him up bodily, tossed him into an automobile, and drove it out upon the field. The experiment proved such a success, and the patient gained so much in health and spirits, that the performance was repeated at subsequent games.

Jerome Eastman, son of Walter, is entered for the class of 1933, along with Christopher Gerould and Theodore Allen.

Secretary, 88 Lowell St., Manchester, N. H.