Class of 1923

As these lines take form, your correspondent finds himself sadly reflecting that his stewardship of five years could well have been improved upon. It has been good fun, anyhow, and to a certain extent I think X am right in feeling some good has been accomplished. There have been men in our class to whom these periodic notes have been most welcome—men in far places with no contacts at all with the College except the ALUMNI MAGAZINE. On the other hand, most of the men in the class (because most of the class does not subscribe to the MAGAZINE) have been entirely without contact with your Secretary, and through him, with each other. This is true because I have not believed in issuing class news in any other form than notes in this magazine; first, because I have not believed in exhausting our treasury during the past four years when money has been few and far between, and second, because I have tried to force subscriptions to the MAGAZINE by omitting all other forms of communication. (This is no apologia. It is written because these matters are important questions of policy to which the class should give considerable thought; which study may well take place at the Tough Times Tenth when this issue of the MAGAZINE will appear.)

One worth-while object, at least, I have attained. Every scrap of information that has come to light about the class since 1928 is now "in the record"—neatly dated and pasted into two large scrapbooks, all safe and sound for posterity.

I hope my successor as Secretary will (1) enjoying being Secretary, (2) be located so that he will see a good many men, (3) have the faculty of making his notes less ponderous in tone than mine have been, (4) feel that sense of obligation without which no incumbent can best serve his classmates, and (5) maintain and augment the permanent records which I turn over to him.

I cherish still another hope, namely, that the 1923 Class Secretary will always resist the temptation and the apparent duty to include the collection of dough in his repertoire. Let's keep the job a clearing house of information about each other, and leave the dunning to other agencies. I believe it will pay.

I envy you guys that make Reunion! It will be a long, long time before my memories on the Fifth grow dim. Starting with the trip from Chicago with Moore, with our feet cocked up on the rear end of the train while we talked all night and winding up with the wild dash to the Junction (with just the shade of a lump in my throat at the thought that X would never be able to do it all over again).

We got to Hanover just before the sun came up. There was only one sound on earth—a banjo somewhere, and some bird baying the moon with the crooning melodies of the day—whatever they were back in 1928. We headed for the sound and before long this poor devil, who was graduating in a couple of days, had company—all of us on the roof of the Delt house. And in an hour (mind you, before six in the morning) the banjo had been packed and the improvised glee club had become a golf game. (That's how things went back in those dear, dead days when we were young, Maggie.)

But enough of this patter about the past! I thank the class for the privilege of serving it, hope ,you all have a

good time June 16-20, wish you all a brimming measure of health, happiness and prosperity. Salut!

Secretary. 293 E. Central Ave., Highland Park, Ill