CLASS OF 1919

Bob Strong's last bulletin had in it an outSine of some plans for the annual Secretaries Meeting in Hanover. It said something about a prize for all those secretaries who have had Class Notes in every issue throughout the year, and we began to get all excited until we read on and found that there were enough strings on the offer to make a good tennis net. First, your record for promptness had to be good. Second, use of the English language would be considered. And third, legibility. We immediately lost interest, for while we have not, probably thanks to the generosity of Mr. John Moore Comstock, missed an issue, we are without fail rushing our words of wisdom to press three days after closing date, and we have a clean record for entire lack of promptness. You're all familiar with our habitual and cruel misuse of the English as she is writ, and even the best efforts of the editors can't get us by on this count. Lastly, our typing is only one degree more readable than our long-hand, so we give up at once. Oh well, maybe we'll get a prize for the most rounds of golf during the meeting.

While this will appear too late to inform any who have not already heard of it, we have been very much interested in the first annual Alumni Carnival, which the Outing Club is running over the 22d of February week-end. It sounds like one of the best parties we've heard of in a long time—all the events and excitements of the old undergraduate Carnivals without the necessity of sitting up all night and going to chapel in evening clothes. We don't know when the depression has irritated so much as when we tried to fit this into the budget and failed.

And speaking of the depression, as every one says we shouldn't, we are reminded of an incident that took place recently in California. A friend of ours was out there and looked up Freddie McCrea. Fred took him out to meet a few of the local boosters, and he happened to say something about the depression. Fred drew him aside and said, "You mustn't talk about the depression. We just don't talk about it out here. We don't know there has been a depression." To which my friend replied, "Well, you have to admit it's been a very light boom."

News is getting scarcer and scarcer. Here are the few tidbits we have been able to get together. The first new member of the Proud Poppers' Club for 1932 is Ernie Rautenberg, whose wife presented him with a baby girl on New Year's Day, the which is starting the year in good style.

Present and cheering lustily at the annual meeting of the Dartmouth Association of New York were Ingraham, Buttenwieser, Martin, Sandoe, Halloran, Robinson, Mullen, Goss, and Batchelder. And Mose Robinson has quit Pittsburgh and is now located in New York. Spider has completed his move from Rochester, and now has his furniture installed at 299 W. 12th St., New York city. It will certainly be convenient to have a buddy in New York who doesn't live 62 miles out on Long Island, or commute from Camden, N. J. How many guest rooms have you, Spider?

John Chipman is now working in Worcester and thereabouts, teaching the public how to get the frost out of a Birdseye lamb chop. He is apparently eating regularly, for we asked him to dinner some night and haven't heard a word from him. He sends a little news from that section. Chet Caswell he reports, has just been elected president of the Kiwanis Club for 1932—and we suppose has both his big flat feet on the ground. Rat Felton, one of Worcester's leading medici, complains that they don't get sick any more, and Caswell, their leading mortician, says what chance has he got if they won't see Felton.

John reports also seeing Pette, who is teaching math at Worcester Academy. He tried his hand in the ping-pong tournament at the Dartmouth night at the University Club, and let the 1919 laurals fall in a heap. You just can't play that game by elementary geometry.

We will end with the same old sob. We can't get together enough stuff for a Nineteen News without a letter or two. What do you say, we all write a letter to the Secretary and tell him how rotten his stuff is, and include just one good bit of news.

Secretary, , 87 State St., Framingham Center, Mass.