Class of 1914
If you like to read about the other feltow he, too, would like to read about you, which perfect correlation comes only through co-operation—and again we remind you it's news we want.
WIN SNOW ELECTED Typographical ambiguity prevents us from stating definitely whether, in the recent elections of the Crosscup-Pishon Post of the American Legion composed of Boston advertising men, "Win" is now athletic officer or child welfare director, or both. 0.K., "Win." You're 100% either way.
X'14X
Always glad to hear from "Bino" Knight. We hear he is a real he-man parson, devoting his life to the forgotten folk on New York's lower East Side. He reports himself and family well and happy. He, too, claims to be a "compleat tonsorial artist" and would like to compete with "Doc" Cook in a barbering contest, which is an idea for next reunion if a competition could be arranged. Any other entries?
X14X
LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON
"Doc" Cook, writing from the Hackley School on the Hudson, reports: "One ladon the squad, who plays roving center ondefense and halfback on offense, sweeps theends like a deer although only a freshman.He is Johnny Palmer's boy. When he startsrolling for the side-line he runs just likeJohnny used to coming down the pole-vaultrunway."
Glad to hear from you, "Doc." We'll watch Palmer Junior's progress. Keep us posted.
X14X
Had a fine letter from "Doc" Kingsford. His primary avocation seems to be the National Guard, on the staff of which he ranks as intelligence officer.
"Doc" states that while drowsing through a sermon one summer morning, which burdens the imagination somewhat, he had an idea. Here is the brain-childa composite 1914 song composed in church to the tune of "Mademoiselle," which recalls that mentally four walls do not a prison make.
Conscience stricken, he later changed the music to a psalm tune which Doc says has a "swing which will lift you off your feet." Every one is to contribute a stanza. Here's a sample:
Old Jake Bond was the roundsman's name; He was death on a poker game. That's the way he won his fame, But he slept ev'ry night from 11 till a. Oh, don't you remember the Chinaman's stairs?
Fourteen took them unawares. The Chink filled the air with celestial prayers But the boys paid the bill, and a little more too! Chorus: Yes, I think you'll all agree That's the play 'twas good to be In the days of long ago. (Crash Symbols!)
Doc wants ideas. He'll do the rest. Send your comments, suggestions, criticisms, and, above all, contributions to him addressed to High St., Westwood, Mass., or to the station to which you are listening. Good work, Doc; hope you have two hundred verses.
X14X
The recent bulletin contained numerous typographical errors as well as inaccuracies. For both, please pardon us. Page Junkins set us right in a couple of places, for example: It is Nasib Deverian who is in the rug business in Rochester and who has two sons about ready for Dartmouth. We learn also that Red Ramage took in the Chicago fair recently. Walt Daley was wrongly reported as with the Telephone Companyactually being connected with Robert Gair and Company, New York City—this last from Squint Herlihy.
Page writes that Mrs. Junkins is now slowly convalescing from an illness this past summer. Our best wishes for complete recovery.
X14X
MAKES HOLE IN ONE ON FOURTH SHOT
We are always glad to learn Bob Hopkins is in town. In the first place, our office is quite set up for the day when the operator repeats with pardonable pride that Mr. Hopkins is calling from the Ritz Carltonwhich, by the by, involves just a personal thrill in recalling once when we attended, on press tickets of course, a grand bazaar there for the indigent of Iracq or somewhere. Then again, Bob always has some swell stories. Be sure and have him tell the latest about the Big Indian in Chicago. It's a pip—with Doc Carleton doing a cornet obligato to the tune of the Sky Blue Water it would be a double knockoutwhich you will appreciate more clearly on hearing the story.
Having gotten involved thus far, we had best proceed with the golf. We warn you it's not so startling as Red's hole in one, but well worth broadcasting, nevertheless. Just a quiet Sunday morning foursome on the home course at South Norwalk, a delightful layout overlooking Long Island Sound. First nine in 45—not bad but could have been better. The eleventh, or maybe the thirteenth, is 380 yards. Good sound drive about 200 with a broad water carry intervening. Protecting the even fives to date, Bob elects a mashie to the edge, then a pitch and the customary two putts. Mashie went as scheduled, but .... his peeked pitch plopped. The ball retrieved, however, with only loss of distance, according to the local rule we are now playing four. By now you must have guessed the climax—high iron on the pin all the way, one bounce, a couple of hops, and a dribble, and in drops the ball.
Now, who else has a golf yarn? Bring 'em on.
X14X
IN RE VIAE MAINE ET ALIAE
Our reference to roads in the sovereign state of Maine, made in the recent bulletin, started a veritable barrage from Howard Potter, who is an official of the Public Utilities Commission in that glorious commonwealth. Hod explains at length why some roads are better than others, which has added greatly to our knowledge of state finance, and concerning the habits of Massachusetts citizens who "seem to delight in driving either in the center or on the left side."
We are justly rebuked for having stuck our neck out in matters where our ignorance is profound.
Hod informs us that he has become an amateur pilot, having owned his own ship for a year. Gradually we are getting the low-down on the extracurricula activities of various chaps. Good luck, Howard.
X14X
WHY REUNE?
Last month there was begun a series of bits about Hanover which you may have missed or never seen. We started with the new nine of the golf course.
This month take a mental stroll into Sanborn, which is one of the Library Group and houses the English department faculty. You can "Ah" and "Oh," and "I'll be hanged" to your heart's content as you stroll through the public rooms on the first floor. If you still know a faculty, you might be served a pot of tea before a blazing fire with erudition unconfined.
Remember the faculty offices in our time—always cold; too many bare desks crowded together; stale tobacco smoke, ugh!
But thanks to benefaction all is changed. The faculty offices in Sanborn are different, very different. We understand each prof was given the opportunity, while the building was under construction, to express his individual ideas in the decoration of his office. And can these boys express! You'll find Tudor and Gothic; Colonial and Victorian even chintz and crinoline and the tea things. Shades of George Ray Wicker! We even know a cupboard which contains . . . . but that would be treason.
Were we an undergraduate we should confer with the English faculty ad lib. and do our D. O. C. stuff in Sanborn.
Better plan to come back next June and see for yourself!
X14X
Pleasant Thanksgiving to all!
Secretary, 367 Boylston St., Boston
