CLASS OF 1918
We have very little news oil tap this month excepting for some gossip our reliable Syl Morey has been able to pick up on the sidewalks of New York. Here is what he has to say:
"This might be called the 'Real Estate Section' of the '18 news, as it deals almost exclusively with that commodity.
"The most momentous happening is the announcement of the purchase of a mountain by little Ed Mader. Already the small boys 'round Millbrook, N. Y., are pointing with awe to Mader's Mountain. It seems that the renting agent for New York skyscrapers has gone and bought a natural born skyscraper all for himself. Stump Barr reports that Ed put in the entire summer scouring the country sides for a mountain up to specifications. He listed on a requirement sheet just how high the mountain should be, how many acres, how many dead and live trees, height and variety of each, number of berry bushes, sumachs, discarded motor cars, bears, snakes, and neighbors. Finally, said mountain was discovered hiding behind Poughkeepsie within binocular range of Vassar (a requirement suggested by the far-sighted Stump). Already half of the population of Millbrook has been drafted to erect a Mader-type log cabin and gauge out a hole for a swimming pool. If we are not completely fooled, invitations for an 'lB keg party should be out by the end of the, month.
"Next in importance is the news that our self-proclaimed President Stanley Jones, bloated with stock market profits, has bought a large tract of land at Westhampton Beach, L. 1., and will build either a Rhine Valley castle or an Atlantic Refining-Pergola type service station for a summer home. All in all, it looks as though the vacation problems of the Eighteeners hereabouts were nicely solved.
"Oh yes, another real estate customer is Dave Skinner. His so-called 'shack' at Rye, N. Y., turns out to be a 20-acre estate stocked with cast-iron deer and everything.
"Bob Knowles turns up as renting agent for a swank Rockefeller apartment on the Grand Concourse in the Bronx. The rumor that the tenants call him hard-hearted Bob is unconfirmed.
"Wart McElwain claims to have shot the Hanover course twice this summer, both times under a hundred. Maybe he did it the way his roommate Baron Ross shot an 87 at Hempstead. When the Baron's score was checked over by the tournament committee, it was found in good order except that the eighteenth hole was missing altogether. The Baron is still explaining.
"Stump Barr, that little rogue, has up and joined the Junior League at Forest Hills. This winter he counts on a bid from the most exclusive fraternity in the Garden City High School. The next thing you know he'll enter the class of '35 at Hanover."
We hear that Figgers Clahane is in the big city C.P.A-ing, but as yet have no information as to where is' he located.
Ned Ross has been touring the battlefields of Europe this summer showing his wife the scenes of his war-time escapades. We understand he has also written for the LebanonGazette a sequel to his famed "Letters from Ned."
It is only fair to mention that the Westhampton Beach colony included other Eighteeners beside the all-important Jones, namely, Red Wilson and Earley the agent. The latter complains that Jones ran the town too much to suit his own whims, and by loving up to the village police chief he had laws annulled at will.
We wish to con'ect the impression printed in these columns several months ago that Sandy Sanborn is located in Des Moines. He resides in Sioux City, lowa,—his old home town. He writes that his newly acquired mate is a real mountaineer. On their honeymoon they climbed Long's Peak, Colorado, which is 14,251 ft. high. That's quite an accomplishment in these days of our old age.
Dusty Rhodes writes that he is still "curing" at Gaylord Farm Sanatorium, Walling- ford, Conn., but expects to be out probably in another couple of months. Ernie Earley, who has seen him recently, also reports Dusty as much improved.
We were exceedingly sorry to learn from Dusty of the death of his mother, Angie 3. Russell Rhodes, on June 16 at Hartford, Conn. Mrs. Rhodes w'as a very active member of numerous women's clubs in Hartford, and was a tireless and unselfish worker in many charity organizations. She was known and beloved by many Dartmouth men who had enjoyed her hospitality at the Rhodes home. The class of 1918 surely sympathizes deeply with Dusty because of his great loss.
With his ears attuned to scandal-mongers and those of like ilk, our Prexy Jones has picked up the following gossip on summer happenings:
"Vacation notes have been compared, and Syl Morey awarded the oriole's nest for most mileage covered without leaving the state. In June he announced to a reeling world that he was leaving the following week for France, England, Holland, Germany, Slovakia, and Norway. He later amended this itinerary to include the Baltic states, so that he would have some place to talk about that those famous globe-girdlers, the Messrs. Earley and Jones, had not covered in their trans-Atlantic flights from collection agents. Fruit was bought, passports were obtained, and nausea insurance taken out. Then, with countless friends and stenographers waiting apprehensively to speed him off his mooring hawsers onto the gangplank, he suddenly decided the whole thing was too much trouble and shifted to Canada, via Nash. ($965 down—see Russ Smith.)
"Again flowers were bought. Again a lot of people got tight to celebrate—especially Mr. Morey's employers. And once again things loomed up as just too involved for any use. Mr. Morey finally retired to his ancestral farm up at Greenwich (no, New York state), where he spent four active weeks rocking in a cosy chair under an apple tree and contemplating his navel. Nobody knows yet—or cares very much—about his future plans.
"Rumor has it that Old Sampy Lewis, the former Menace of Montmartre, is once again on the loose. This time he is held to be in New York, though he is, according to Commissioner Whalen, 'working under cover' to date. The Vice, Bomb, and Bull Squads are sitting on the edge of their chairs these days, nervous as mice in a furnace at every ring of the telephone.
"E. H. Earley, specialist in twenty-year endowments and sophomore fathers, won the distinction of taking exactly twice as many strokes in the golf tourney, recently conducted by his company, as any other 'player.' He won a camel's hair loving cup, a celluloid skillet, and a heaping washboiler full of ripe, red raspberries. Ernie (as he is known to the trade) claims that his bill still has him in the red, however, as it included the following items: $18.50 in bets, $12.00 for gin which some brother agent got after signing his name, $5.00 cleaner's bill after playing out of ponds and puddles, $lO.OO for balls, and $4.00 caddy fees, which he did not pay because the lad was only half his size and should have been in school anyway, he says. Ern was going great guns, he declares, for the first four holes, which he streaked through in a sparkling 56. After that, he just went all to pieces.
"Pease and Elliman announce that they have sold a tract of wooded land to Colonel Barr's equerry, Lance-Corporal E. Mader. It lies deep in the forest up in back of Po'- Keepsie, but within telescopic peeping distance of next spring's regattas. The gallant soldier is erecting a lean-to of some sort on the premises, it is said, which may be reached in a brisk trek of three days by boat, car, oxen, and dogs.
"Fritz Cassebeer, the genial dispenser of aspirin and analyses, drove out to the Grand Canyon this summer with a car load of old Gillette blades and soiled collars which have been accumulating in his closet for the past twelve years. Fritz says it certainly was a sight to see the blades glittering and the collars twirling off into space. He fortunately snapped a few fast ones with his Graflex, though to the lay eye the result is barely distinguishable from that of a man with dandruff who has just whiskbroomed his coat collar vigorously.
"L. C. (Musty) Pounds and his cousin, S. Jones, turned back Father Time this summer by pairing up to score a startling triumph in the doubles (men's), of the Westhampton Country Club. Hobbling about with an agility of men barely half their age, the veterans raced through the first three rounds, by defaults, without the loss of a game. In the semi-finals they beat two college youths, who got to laughing so hard they had to be led off the courts and assisted to a doctor's. The finals furnished the real fireworks, however, when Pounds' twelve youngsters marched in bearing a huge banner inscribed, 'Do it for us, Daddy,' and paraded twice around the arena to the consternation of the opposition. Rather than risk spoiling such a demonstration, they showed their sportsmanship by walking off the court and forfeiting the match, though they forgot to shake hands with the victors, who stood waiting at the net, palms outstretched.
"No word has been received for a long time now of F. Runyon Colie, the Poisonous Pup of Paterson and points east. Can it be that, after all these years, he has finally succumbed to a self-saturation of his own bile and perished miserably and alone?"—Stan Jones. We have just been informed by air mail from Bill Dutelle that his first candidate for Wellesley or Smith arrived on September 22, and was weighed in at 9M lbs. Her name is Ann Elizabeth Dutelle. Otherwise Bill's record of building highways for the state of Illinois has been uninterrupted.
Your class news will appear regularly in the Alumni Magazine. Haveyou renewed your subscription?
Secretary, 953 Madison Ave., New York
