CLASS OF 1880
The class of 'BO attained distinction on its fiftieth anniversary out by winning the cup for the largest percentage of attendance 19 out of 23 living, and covering its quota in the Alumni Fund: pretty nearly nuf sed. 'BO has never bragged of its achievements like many other less distinguished classes—'79 for instance, or 1900, who grudgingly passed over this cup after holding it three or four years through the admitted chicanery of Clarence McDavitt 1900, president of the Alumni Association.
The boys began to trickle in on Friday. Tom Flint of California was the first to arrive; he came via the Panama Canal, and started early to avoid the drought. Friday was consumed in trying to locate in some familiar asylum. They looked for "Hod Frary," former, proprietor of Hanover's best hostelry, hoping to see him again wiping his carving knife on his one-time white apron. They looked longingly for "Bed Bug Alley," the scene of many an ancient battle, mental and physical. But after vain search for these familiar landmarks, the men reluctantly took quarters in the Inn and Wheeler, both of which had little of the appearance or spirit of '76-' BO.
Saturday we witnessed the Class Day exercises and tried to get used to the new regime. The old pine was gone, and the stump was a poor apology for the revered tree. I may say that the class of 'BO with their contemporaries did the first landscape gardening that ever marred the natural beauty of Observatory Hill by working with picks and shovels many Wednesday and Saturday afternoons. The address to the President made us think of fifty years ago, when Tom Flint addressed the Rev. Samuel Colcord Bartlett and reminded that reverend gentleman of the gracious suavity he had ever manifested to the class of 'BO. We also thought of the masterly oration on "The Heroic Character" by Jake Foster of our class, which character Jake, through the inspiration of his constant chum and mentor, Balaam Service, faithfully exemplified till his decease while a member of Congress from Vermont.
Sunday there was about a faculty percentage of the class at the baccalaureate service. Sam Perry regretted that "Par Leevs" was not in the pulpit. He always had a "dam lot of respect for Par Leevs." This sentiment suggested the tremendous development of small seeds in fifty years.
At four o'clock the class in its best attire (for you must know wives, daughters, and granddaughters were there) accepted President Hopkins' polite and thoughtful invitation to come early to his reception. At the President's mansion the class entirely forgot the Hanover they used to know. They were received without formality but with marked cordiality by President and Mrs. Hopkins, by many members of the faculty and their charming wives. In less time than it takes to write it everybody was acquainted with everybody, and the democratic Dartmouth spirit made everybody at ease and happy. They wandered through the grounds, beautiful as any sylvan scenes we had read about in Horace—now long forgotten—the original. At every turn we came on tables with punch bowls—temperature 93—and pretty girls with all sorts of dainties to eat. The scene bore no resemblance to Stump Lane or the Yale of Tempe of 1880. But—well, I can't do it any sort of justice with my vocabulary. You, of whatever class you are, go and see it every Commencement you can, be it first or fiftieth.
It is still Sunday, and in the evening we attended a concert by the Handel Symphony Society of Hanover. It was a fine performance. I may say this was not arranged by the spirit of Asa Bodge Smith or Samuel Colcord Bartlett. Things have changed in fifty years at Dartmouth. Sunday does not seem too good for anything.
Monday morning a good delegation of the class headed by Bobby Thayer, who, with "Chuck" Emerson, will be remembered as the founder of real baseball at Dartmouth (you remember it, for he has often told you so), saw the game between Dartmouth and Cornell. It was a fine game. The score a tie till the tenth inning, when it was broken by Dartmouth. Bobby conceded that the college had maintained well the high standard of baseball established by him and Chuck.
Then the alumni luncheon! All present! On time! 'BO sat up front near the speakers' table, a few on a platform raised about six inches above the common crowd. This continual special attention to the half-century men! Tom Flint was in the center of the head table because he had been president of the class for the full fifty years and present at every reunion except one, all the way from his California ranch. Tom has been president of the California State Senate six or eight sessions, so he sat nonchalantly and looked the part. The cup, above referred to, was handed to him grudgingly, as I have before said, by Clarence McDavitt 1900. Tom received it gracefully, and proceeded to deliver a speech for the class which he had been preparing for fifty years. It was up to standard, and had the conspicuous merit of brevity—mercury 96! There were some other speeches at this luncheon, but I am confining my narrative to 'BO.
Monday night the class had a banquet at the Commons, strictly dry except for perspiration—mercury 94. It was the hope of some of the less modest of the class that a complete and accurate history of the careers of members living and dead should be set in cold type and presented on this occasion. But Sam King, who was to make this a reality, was late in collecting the material, mainly because three or four of the fellows, notably Thayer and French, were reluctant to divulge the details of their doings to the eyes and ears of their classmates. After struggling to get our money's worth from the banquet, we discussed the anticipated history and voted Sam more time.
The occasion did not pass, however, without verbal interchange, serious, humorous, and reminiscent; philosophical, didactic, and inspirational. Sam Perry was called on for brief, informal remarks, and delivered a wellprepared, inspirational address on the scientific, political, civic, and theological progress the world has made in fifty years, and he allowed us to infer that much of this progress was due to the class of 'BO. We hadn't thought of this before, but accepted it without argument. Judge Webster Thayer delivered a didactic oration. This was a manifest development of his contact fifty years ago, when he exposed himself to the moral philosophy and Christian graces taught by Professor Noyes, more familiarly known from '76 to 'BO as Peanuts, who gave us as a parting prophecy and comforting assurance that if we did our best we should "enjoy all the success God intended us to enjoy." We have had an opportunity to size up our efforts and the Almighty's intentions. All of the boys contributed something of interest to the party. Pike spoke feelingly of the nourishment he had received from the College and Gaines' Pelton Club at $2.15 per week, "the same yesterday, today, and forever." Davidson gave a very interesting account of one of his several trips around the world.
If Barrett had been there, he would have told for the first time—there are some things that can be told for the first time with impunity on the fiftieth anniversary, because the fiftieth year class are exempt from arrest —who sawed off the legs of Prexy Bartlett's chapel chair one night. Barrett, one or two others, and Prexy were the only ones who knew who did it, and I doubt if Prexy was sure of it, because he never referred to the episode beyond announcing in chapel, "I know the culprit."
Piute Fellows would have told the pedigree and price per for the Trot (er)s he had in his stable from '76 to 'BO. Oh, 'BO is not without a history, and Sam King will bring it forth in due time. Sam examines most of the applicants for the more than three billions of life insurance written yearly by the Metropolitan, so you see he is busy. Tuesday morning we had a group picture, and all looked fresh and fine, good for a repetition of the event in 1980.
We marched into Webster Hall close up behind the more than 450 seniors to witness the Commencement program. That marching column of seniors, four abreast, with caps and gowns, was a wonderful spectacle to those who participated in a similar exercise fifty years before. They were only one in seven in numbers, without cap or gown or any other insignia of the fellowship of Bachelor of Arts to which they were to be admitted. There were three orations by the seniors in 1930; there were twenty-four in 1880.
The final adieus of the class to each other were informal as they departed one by one for their respective homes. With hearts full of gratitude to the Giver of Life and all its experiences for fifty years under the guiding star of our Alma Mater—God bless her—we went our several ways with nobler aspirations and more determined purposes than we had when we came to Hanover, and we agreed to come back as often as we could and as long as we could.
The following were present at the reunion: Henry W. Allen, retired engineer, 52 Blodgett St., Manchester, N. H.; Arthur Wesley Chase, retired educator, 3522 West Adams St., Chicago, Ill.; Dana Paul Dame, gentleman chicken fancier, 102 Suffield St., Agawam, Mass.; George Mathiot Davidson, wife, retired consulting chemical engineer, Chicago and Northwestern Railroad, 211 N. E. Avenue, Oak Park, Ill.; George Arthur Dickey, wife, granddaughter, life insurance, 1052 Union St., Manchester, N. H.; Charles Sumner Dutton, farmer, Gonic, N. H.; Thomas Flint, wife, retired ranchman and capitalist, 482 South St., Hollister, Calif.; Warren Converse French, wife, daughter, lawyer, 41 Park Row, New York city; John Edgar Ham, New Haven Railroad, South Attleboro, Mass.; Rev. George Henry Hubbard, retired Congregational minister and writer, 22 Central St., Cambridge, Mass.; John Horton King, wife, niece, retired merchant and capitalist, 103 Elm St., Malone, N. Y.; Samuel Thomas King, M.D., life insurance examiner, 319 Carlton Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y.; Samuel Sinclair Perry, wife, treasurer Massachusetts Bonding Cos., 20 Kilby St., Boston, Mass.; Rev. Clarence Pike, retired Congregational minister, 475 Central St., Cliftondale, Mass.; Rev. William Alexander Service, retired clergyman, 17 Spring St., St. Johnsbury, Vt.; Charles Henry Strout, educator, St. James School, Md.; Webster Thayer, wife, Superior Court judge, 180 Institute Road, Worcester, Mass.; Edson Walter White, wife, news editor Boston Globe, 266 Albion St., Wakefield, Mass.; Dr. Nathan W. Sanborn, professor of English, State University, Gainesville, Fla.
Letters were received from Willard Warner, retired, 430 South Crest Road, Chattanooga, Tenn., and William Isaac Clarke Smith, retired, who was taken seriously ill the day before he planned to start for Hanover, Sweet Briar Farm, Harvard, Mass.
Mrs. William E. Barrett came to Hanover one day during the reunion to see the members of the class. All were delighted to see her. Her home is Boothbay Harbor, Me.
Secretary, , 1052 Union St., Manchester, N. H
