CLASS OF 1918

Eighteen dinners in New York at the Dartmouth Club have recently been well attended, as many as 25 members having been present. On one occasion our photographing mortician, George M. Davis, showed movies of the reunion to those assembled in the club rooms, and their excellence even to the subtitles was universally admired.

Dick Willey was seen in Gotham just prior to his departure for the Orient after a few months' vacation from diplomatic duties, which he spent in these states. He is again to be found back at his job in Calcutta, India. Like others in 1918 who have once been in the Far East, he seemed very anxious to go back to the Oriental life of ease and luxury he had been accustomed to.

Dusty Rhodes, our erstwhile ambassador to the court of St. James, has been establishing a reputation for himself as a writer of special articles. He has been a steady contributor to the Financial Digest, Equity, and several other magazines and newspapers. Principally, he is night editor of the HartfordCourant, which is enough of a grind for any one.

We hear that Harry Collins is now a very active member of the Chamber of Commerce at Seaford, L. 1., and has, through his oratorical influence, brought about the laying of concrete sidewalks in the town; that Francis Christy is planning to publish a law book in January on the "The Transfer of Stock," which is expected to become a reference book for all law firms, the last book of this type having been published by President Eliot of Harvard; that Lawrence Wallis is teaching in New York; that Chris Christgau did make Hanover after all this fall, though he didn't arrive in time to lead the 1918 baseball squad against itself at reunion; that George Arnold is now connected with the American consulate at Milan, Italy; that Ted Baer is selling Federal Trucks in Albany, and James Mytton is peddling securities in Kansas City.

Our star healer, Syl Morey, has recently had a swing around the New England and New York state circuit, and, as he puts it, "got some data on a few north country Eighteeners before they had dug themselves in for the winter." Here it is:

"In Hartford, Dusty Rhodes sneaked away from the newspaper office long enough to complain bitterly about his write-up in the reunion number of the ALUMNI MAGAZINE. He said to tell Jones that he, Dusty, was the soberest man on the campus. Jones' report of Dusty's behavior was ample grounds for a libel suit. Well, mebbe it was.

"I found Lewis Huntoon in Providence, buying all the evening papers as fast as they came off the press. He overwhelmed me with clippings to prove that he has become an important factor in the local Republican machine. This may or may not have anything to do with the fact that Rhode Island was one of the few states to go Democratic.

"Eddie Ferguson has jumped from wool to real estate. To show you how a man can get himself sold on his own business, Eddie started out by closing a deal with himself for a house in West Roxbury. After this encouraging start things have slowed up a bit, but not so slow that Eddie could make Commencement. Eddie retains all of his old familiar Boston twang, 90% of his Hanover and Newport youthful zip, and a lot more hair than some of the boys I might mention.

"My next encounter was with Hal Ross, Albany's wet wash magnate. I found Hal busy in the kitchen with a paint brush, paint can, and a lot of objects he said were painted swell. Anyway he had deposited a lot of paint around. You knew he was painting. The Ross prodigy has learned to turn a ringer at the age of 14 months, and the old man sees a great future ahead, with the son in command of the washery and himself pursuing elk in the north woods.

"Nuts Poole, Albany's dapper insurance agent, threatens Earley with extinction if he solicits north of Hudson. Nuts said this without knowing that Earley had bulged an extra 50 pounds in the last year, and now casts a menacing shadow not unlike the Mitchell Tire man's. Nuts himself is as trim as in the days of the $5.00 auto that once terrorized the Hanover natives.

"Ed Felt, with his wife in Texas, is the head whoopee at the Buffalo University Club. With Canada just across the river, Buffalo makes a pleasant and inviting place to visit.

"Whipple, Munson, and Tom Robbins still hold Medina, N. Y., in the hollow of their hands. Muns is now a full-fledged Doc, has a patient, a pair of ear phones, and a little black bag. Scottie Whipple is star salesman for the local sulphur works, and will still sit up all night to debate on any subject at all. Tom Robbins I missed, but his bank was pointed out with great pride by the other two councilmen.

"Then at the Yale game, we spied Jones peering through opera glasses at the opposite stands and cursing rain coats for being ankle deep—Stump Barr's ill-fated attempt to persuade a certain young lady that she was having a good time—Lewie Lee grousing because everybody didn't want to travel four miles from the Grand Central to his pet dive for dinner—Musty Pounds braving the rain in a mackintosh, an ulster, a rubber blanket, and a hot water bottle—Bankers Ross and McElwain sucking the boys in at 'dealer's choice'—"

Secretary, 953 Madison Ave., New York