CLASS OF 1918
Once more we find Albert B. Street caught in the marital net. The girl is Miss Eloise Lanier Urner, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Henry Urner of Cincinnati, Ohio, where the marriage took place on April 28. The couple made a short honeymoon excursion to bleak, cold Halifax; but reports have it that the refreshments on the steamships en route were not equally barren of warmth. Al and his wife will live in New Haven.
We note that Prexy Jones made an extended trip to the Coast late this winter, from which vantage point he has sent all sorts of dirty post-cards to his friends here in the East. As another Eighteener remarked the other day, it is too bad that Dusty Rhodes did not have him as his advertising manager when he was in London, for we are sure he would have risen to the top of Buckingham Palace,—or the bottom of what-not, we know not which.
Of late we have noticed all sorts of words of wisdom appearing in the Sunday papers emanating from Dick White at the New Jersey State Agricultural Experimental Station relative to the proper methods of interring all kinds of insects destructive to flowers. His latest research tells why asters get the yellows, and how to keep their foliage green by wholesale slaughter of the responsible mites.
Phil Everett sends us a card announcing that his firm, Emery, Booth, Varney, and Whittemore, have moved into the Lincoln Building, 42d St., New York.
We have a newspaper clipping from a Paris paper stating that the irrepressible George Hull has been appointed general commissioner for France, Belgium, and North Africa (?) for the International Exposition of American Import Trade to be held in the Grand Central Palace, New York, during the week of August 4. He will have charge of the organization of the exhibit for the above countries and deserts, and will arrange for the delegation which will go to New York for the exposition. In the same article we learn that George has membership in the American Chamber of Commerce in France, and likewise is a member of the American Club.
While in Hanover recently your Secretary was glad to note a return to something resembling the sweat-shirt era. Two neckties in 50 undergraduates is the average, old clothes and old Fords are all the vogue, and even beards are in order. The naturalness of the present-day undergraduate is refreshing. He does what he pleases, acts as he wishes, goes whither he wants, and there is absolutely no pressure exerted on him to conform to type. Better yet, the regime of the iconoclast is definitely at an end.
A few days ago we received a letter from our hard working class agent, King Rood, which is much in the nature of an S O S asking for immediate assistance for the Alumni Fund. The present outlook as far as 1918 is concerned looks pretty black, and we will let his letter tell the facts. He writes:
"In response to your plea for news of 'Eighteeners' I will tell you some, but it's by no means good news. Quite the reverse in fact. Fred Leggett, chairman of the Alumni Fund, writes me that the returns on the Fund this year are coming in even more slowly than they did last year. The number of contributors is seriously down, and the amount of money is greatly below the amount on hand in 1929. He tells me that he is writing the class agents requesting them to pep up the campaign to the greatest extent possible. Further, he wants to know if the outlook appears brighter than the facts in the case of 1918, and mentions that our class should offer a specially fertile field for cultivating in this respect, as last year our number of contributors was only 57% compared with a showing of 71% for all classes combined.
"That is the news, and it is pretty black, isn't it? If there is anything that you can say in your Alumni Notes column that will make it any better, then, for the love of Pete say it! Here's a chance to employ all of your well known eloquence in overcoming sales resistence. Try to make some of the low-hangers reach for a checkbook instead of a sweet, conscience soothing excuse. Bring your well known cajolery into play. Suggest to them that a college can't live on college spirit alone, and that a check in the Administration Building is worth three Wah-hoo-wahs at the Yale Bowl or the Harvard Stadium. You might remind them that the stock market crash hit all the other classes just as hard as it hit 1918, and furthermore that as far as we know the average income for Nineteen- Eighteeners, relatively speaking is on or about the same level as that of the classes who are running rings around us in the matter of contributions.
"Make it strong, Freddy, and then say it over again and twice as loud. I know cases, of course, where certain of the boys honestly can't divert even $5.00 to this cause without foregoing some of the necessaries of life that are badly needed by their families. Happily, such cases are few and far between. On the other hand, some of the fellows are making definite sacrifices to subscribe to the Fund and must forego a trip to the theater, at least, in order to contribute. These fellows certainly deserve a whole lot of credit, and shine strongly in comparison with the others who can better afford to make a contribution, but, through negligence or indifference, don't.
"I am convinced that if you or I could talk face to face with the fellows that fall in this last mentioned class, we would come away in 90% of the cases with anywhere from $5 to $50 in our pockets. It so happens, however, that this business of being class agent is a labor of love (in some cases, maybe, of hate for all I know) and has to be carried on in addition to your regular job of earning money for bread and butter, shoes, etc. Consequently, each class agent can talk directly with a comparatively few of his classmates, and has to depend on the U. S. mail for better or for worse. Right now the worse seems to have it by a large majority.
"So Fred, oil up your typewriter and begin wearing out the keys in a burst of silvertongued oratory that will reach some of these fellows where they live."
On our recent jaunt to Hanover to attend the secretaries' conclave early in May, we confirmed all that King Rood has mentioned above. Our status in regard to the Alumni Fund is indeed at a very low ebb. Since our graduation we have filled our quota but once, and in the past few years have been near cellar position in the ranking of classes. At present writing we are even further in the ruck than last year, and it will take some pretty tall sleight-of-handing to raise us out of the mire to a place in the sun. Are we going to sit back and let all of King's industrious efforts go to waste this year? No one is asking us to make any real sacrifice; just give something, that's all!
Secretary, 953 Madison Ave., New York
