Class of 1919
As we rush to press Christmas and the New Year festivities have just departed with a jingling of old St. Nick's sleigh bells and coin, leaving a satisfied feeling and a lot of bills. This old heart was cheered no little by the many Christmas greetings received from the boys all over the map—and cheered a lot by the thought of next June which was called to mind by the many notations appended thereto speaking of the coming Fifteenth Reunion. It seems to be on everybody's mind, which is no small tribute to the work of Louie Munro and his publicity committee.
And speaking of Mun, he called us the other day to ask if we would serve on a committee to interview applicants for admission to the College. We agreed, feeling just a little bit oldish that we should be considered in any way capable of determining whether or not a boy would make a good intellectually eager student. We went expecting to be a little embarrassed and somewhat bored, but we got fooled. Never have we seen such a likely looking bunch of youngsters as the fifteen or so we interviewed. Confident, well balanced lads, full of poise, eagerness, life, and personality. they all knew more what they were about than we did when we got through college —perhaps more than we know now. We left feeling that the board of admissions might be slightly confused because we rated everyone so highly, but with a distinct feeling of confidence in the future of the College if what we saw was representative of the entering class.
Having survived the absolute lack of temperature which ended the old year, we finally got the old car started the other night and spent a quiet evening with our fellow townsman, Hawka Hawks, discussing a bit of the new beverages. Hawka reports the investment business a little better from the point of view of Hawks' earnings, and looks forward to a better and bigger budget next year.
Max Norton tags on the end of some official correspondence an interrogation as to whether or not Mrs. Davis and the master will be in Hanover this winter. That is one of the troubles with these academic people in the hinterland. News of the depression has not yet seeped through. And at that we might.
Alden Crosby, for a long time associated with that grand old Boston institution S. S. Pierce (pronounced Purse), has now been made sales manager of their wholesale liquor department. If this assumes one half of the importance that it had before prohibition, that .will be a man-sized job. We would be glad to write an appreciation of any of the new importations or choice vintages A 1 might care to send us.
And to show how repeal has influenced even some of the better elements in the class and diverted many of our most serious minds from better things, we saw Spen Dodd, the day before Christmas, concentrating with some other big Boston business men on critical tasting of the wine list of a popular restaurant. We stopped and spoke to him, but, while he was formally cordial, you could see that the business at hand was on his mind and that he had no time for such airy persiflage as the Secretary had to offer.
We noted, not without some furrowing of the brows, that the annual note from Spider, which crops up with terrifying regularity like the income tax, the barber problem, and Congress, was in the mail the other day. This hurts us more than it does you, but, what do you say, let's be generous this year. We personally are taking a tip from Mr. Roosevelt. We are going ahead on the assumption that everything will come out all right and that the budget will be balanced by 1936. Why not? You couldn't possibly get 31,000,000,000 in the hole.
And then there's the subject of the Flamboyant Fifteenth. We promised last issue to rerun the report of the Tenth as it appeared in the initial issue of the Nineteen News, but we find that that was just the same as the dope in the ALUMNI MAGAZINE which is being run in Nineteen News now, and there seems to be no sense in repeating it. And where are the boys who always rally around at reunion time? Isn't it about time we heard from such as Rabbi Raible, Champ Clements, Bob Paisley, Red Washburn, Ted Townsend, Jim Wilson, Bob Stecher, etc. What about it? And the rest of you birds—a letter please.
From now on things will begin to speed up. The reunion committee is all set to go. Things are going into the mails. Costumes are being thought out—all with John Goss, Tom Bresnahan, Fat Jackson, and the very bow-legged Gale in mind. They will lend charm to all, be assured. Munro is crying for help. Anyone with an idea please send it along by return mail, either to your Secretary or to Mun at 30 Kilby St., Boston.
Secretary, 87 State St. Framingham Center, Mass.
