CLASS OF 1931

"I think it's perfectly amazing—having so many of your classmates get together like this!" Thusly was our recent party in New York characterized bya young lady present. It was most decidedly a successful experiment—thanks to the efforts of that famous insurancer Charlie McAllister. 1931 is certainly making the most of its opportunites on Manhattan Island. And the enthusiasm doesn't seem to be confined to New York. Lookathis willya—from Pittsburgh! Dear Jack:

How's to let some of the far-flung members of the clan in on when and where these N. Y. C. '3l dinners are being held? It would give us a good reason to wander over to the cityand we sometimes need a couple of reasons before we move nowadays.

I got back from that God-forsaken continent of Europe about a week ago. The only Dartmouth man I met over there was Herb Sensenig '2B. We were at the same University (Bonn at Rhein) last semester. Deutsch is okay, and the beer and wine far above reproach—but a man does like a hot bath more than just once in a while.

On my way through the city I spent a night with the Boyntons. Pete is getting that professional air already. Called Ted Kilmarx—he was out working. I guess architecture isn't as easy as it sounds. Have heard from Davie Bender quite frequently; he's located with the Matson Navigation Company in San Francisco.

As for me, I'm going to try to find something to do for the summer. Guess I'll at least have plenty of rest. Let's have some dope on the dinners. GEORGE STEVENS.

Thanks for all the dope, George. About the dinners: when it's possible we announce the date in the ALUMNI MAGAZINE—when that cannot be done, Charlie McAllister sends a notice out to all the available names in the vicinity of New York.

Chicago is getting lined up in great shape. Latest word from Shorty Burr: Dear Jack:

Sorry I haven't had a chance to reply before this—but it's been only very recently that I've been able to get hold of the information I wanted to forward you.

Russ and Bob came out for dinner a night or two ago, which gave us a splendid opportunity to discuss plans for launching our gettogethers here in Chicago. I find them every bit as enthusiastic as myself over the idea and ready to get down to business immediately. First, we all agreed on sending a letter to the local '3l alumni, telling them of the dinners to be scheduled and asking for their support. We plan on having the class movies to show at the first dinner, which should be a big attraction.

Here's a little information about some of the Chicago boys which may be of some help in your filling out the column: Russ Beckwith is selling tomato products for a local Evanston outfit—Snead and Snead, distributors.

Bob Chapman is selling advertising space for the Cherry Circle Magazine, official publication for the Chicago Athletic Association. Pete Hamm is located with the Blakely Printing Company here. George Lill is a star salesman for the George Lill Coal Company. Bill Cornell has turned cowboy, and journeyed to a ranch in remote Wyoming in order to survive the depression. Yours truly parks himself at Rockwell N. Clancy Company, a local advertising agency.

Much obliged for your last letter, Jack. Sincerely yours, Evanston, Ill. SHORTY

Thanks, Shorty, and I know those dinners are going to be a welcome date to all the Thirty-oners in Chicago.

In Boston, where Dartmouth College has a subsidiary in the Harvard Graduate Schools, we are looking forward to the efforts of Henry Johnson, who is trying to organize 1931 in Boston. As soon as you're ready, Henry, New York '3l will take you on in any kind of a contest you care to name, provided the weapons are tall, cold, foamy, and plentiful. And if you hurry we might be able to hold the above fiesta in Madison Square Garden amidst the tumbling elephants and ringling baileys and barnums.

Speaking about Boston, here's an interesting side-light on the nursing industry: Hello, Jack: (Hi!—Ed. note.)

Just home from an operation for sinusall of which will probably mean I won't get any vacation this year! Happy thought! The nurse who brought me out of the ether, and who now knows more about me than I do myself, says that Russ Dennis, who slept when the sheepskins were given out last June, is pulling down 40 per teaching tennis at Manchester-by-the-Sea. Just another racket.

Cubby Miller is to be shifted to the Holyoke branch of the Norfolk Paint and Varnish to care for the lonesome girls at South Hadley. I fail to see how that will help the sale of paint any.

I expect to get my sea-legs back by another week—and will once again attempt to sell decorative and protective finishes for the home.

Yours in the bucket,

West Roxbury, Mass.

PEANUT WINSLOW

I'm not altogether sure about that "in the bucket" stuff—but anyway it might be that Charlie is referring to a paint bucket.

Before I forget it, let me publicly and most earnestly express my apologies to Jim Godfrey—you know, Jim, that I'm anxious as I can be to get every bit of news available about 1931, and it must be that your previous letter never reached me. Certainly it's not too late to extend the felicitations of the class and to wish you both all the happiness possible.

Dear Jack: I have been much distressed. I wrote you last fall concerning my engagement, and to this day I haven't seen the news in the columns of that great source of information, the ALUMNI MAGAZINE. Perhaps the letter was lost in the mail—at any rate my fiancee, who is the daughter of a Dartmouth man, feels that she has been neglected by the lack of publicity in our news organ.

Under the belief that my first report failed to reach you I'll repeat the facts.

On November 11, 1931—God, but it was a grand day, Hon. and Mrs. E. W. Leach of Concord, N. H., announced the engagement of their daughter Barbara to Mr. James B. Godfrey of Orlando, Fla., at cetera.

Barbara bears the treasured nickname of Bunny, and is the product of two generations of Dartmouth men. Her grandfather was of the class of '7l, while Judge Leach was a member of 'Ol.

Bunny was graduated from the Westover School in Middlebury, Conn., in 1928. Needless to say, Jack, I am engaged to the sweetest girl in the world, and I stand ready to prove my statement to any one who doubts my word of judgment.

This law school racket is certainly a strain. It has. gotten to the point now where a man can't even spare enough time to air his complaints.

I certainly enjoy your columns in the ALUMNI MAGAZINE. It must be quite a job to edit them each month, but I assure you that your efforts are appreciated by all members of the class.

Sincerely,

Cambridge, Mass. JIM

Weall, weall! Ef it ain't a letter from down in Maine: Dear Jack: Right off I want to tell you that you are doing a heap for us Thirty-oners who are stuck away out of the world. That column of yours is the only thing to give us the news of former intimates. The arrival of the ALUMNI MAGAZINE is my big moment each month. (Aw shucks!—Ed. note.)

Being away up in the woods I have very little news of Thirty-oners. What I have is mostly second-hand as gleaned from letters from Joe Mullan and Beany Thorn. Says Mullan of himself: "My own fortune continues being practically nothing. I'm still trying to find a decent job, and in the meantime diddling around Dad's office." However, Joe has possibilities in sight.

Art Kyle has left law school and is publishing a small-town weekly newspaper and magazine. Sounds pretty good.

Will Duddy has a new job, but Joe didn't say just what it was. Of all delightful things, Don Crane is soon to join our married ranks— the lady having much fame as a beauty. What her name is, you'll have to get someplace else. (How about it, Bones?)

Phil Clisby is still farming some place in the West.

Ed Studwell is selling electric irons in a department store, but made Carnival, as did so many of the Thirty-oners.

I did get away in February, and went to Boston, where I had quite a talk with my last year's room-mate, Dick Henry. He's at the Business School and appears to be doing mightily there. Saw Jimmy Rice, too. Of course, they both had a great deal to say about Buzz Jones' disappearance, but had no inkling as to cause or whereabouts. The same day I met George Phillips in Harvard Square. George had a huge pile of books under his arm. He invited me ar-ound to his apartment, which, he claims, is always open to Thirty-oners. He is working for his Master's in history.

Those Thirty-oners who took geography under Harold Kemp will be—or should bedelighted to know that he has just bought a new Ford that goes just swell (I saw it!).

As for myself, what else could I be but a school teacher? However, I was fortunate and got a pretty good position here at Kent's Hill, even though the place is miles away from civilization.

All of which reminds me that I was in Washington during Christmas recess, and found Bob Monahan '29 at Joe Dodge's. Bob was fresh from the West, where he has been fighting forest fires.

I guess this is enough from anybody, and I wish I had a bit of hot news for you, such as comes from O'Neil in Majorca. Give my best to the New York dinner crew. I think that is a grand idea. Keep up the good work.

Sincerely, Kent's Hill, Maine. TED JOHNSON

That's a mighty helpful piece of mail, Ted as well as a flattering one. Thanks.

Among the more important announcements which the Daily Dartmouth offers is that of President Hopkins' award of fellowships for next year. It's good to find the following excerpts from that announcement: "The Richard Crawford Campbell Jr. Fellowship for graduate study in English literature was awarded to D. E. Wilson '31 of Washington, D. C., who during the present year is a graduate student at the Harvard School of Arts and Sciences as the recipient of a fellowship from the College. He will probably continue his study at Harvard as holder of the Campbell Fellowship."

"The Fred Demerritte Barker Fellowship will be divided during the coming year between W. D. G. Casseres '3l and C. E. Odegaard '32. Casseres, a senior fellow during the year 1930-31, is a graduate student in Spanish and instructor in comparative literature during the present year. He plans to study French literature at the Sorbonne."

Listen, classmates, when you get your appeal from Beany Thorn or Charlie McAllister, our class agents for the Alumni Fund—kick in, willya? They don't expect much from us, so we have an excellent opportunity to report an unusual percentage of contributors, even if the amount is not very large. By now you know what the Alumni Fund represents. That purpose itself is really all we need to urge us.

Secretary, 405 West 23d St., New York