Class of 1900
A nice letter from Risley states that he is now in good shape, although he had a little illness during the past year. He is still pretty closely tied down with his work with the Dominion Coal Company, and probably regretted more than any other thing his inability to attend the reunion.
The only way to find out where classmates really live is to get out an address book. By return mail changes of domicile are quickly reported, so pull out your new directory and make a note that Don Tuttle's home address is 257 Pleasant St., Concord, N. H., and Len Tuttle's, 26 Kane Ave., Larchmont, N. Y. Both of them have guaranteed not to move until we get out another directory, which means five years staying where they are.
Well, old Butter is in the hospital again. He says it is for surgical repairs, and he, no doubt, is back in Concord by the time you read this note. He was quartered in the New England Baptist Hospital for about a month. Whether it is back and sitting trouble which he had before he doesn't state. We suppose that his sacroiliac has gotten out of kilter again, but he doesn't tell us anything on the postal card with the picture of the old frog pond on Boston Common which he has mailed to your Secretary. I suppose the night life of the frogs reminded him pleasantly of his home life in Concord.
Whether Fred Jennings' new house at Kennebunk Beach is finished we do not know. The only information we have is that there is a golf course quite near it. Fred has been going to Kennebunk Beach for many years. It's the place which has a golf course, that has a green where Chelsea Atwood helped Fred in the technique of putting when we had a reunion there several years ago.
Jim Woodman is pretty hilarious nowadays, not because he caught many fish this summer but because his boy, Everett, enters college after a brilliant career at Phillips Exeter. Everett captained the baseball team, won the Andover game al- most singlehanded, besides being one of the campus leaders in that great school. Expect to see Jim in Hanover pretty frequently for four years.
We have gotten so far in our class notes column without saying much about illustrious Hanover members of the class. They all expect some mention, however brief. Well. L. B. was in Washington all summer. The weather there was much too hot and severe. Will tell you later why he was in Washington but am not permitted to do so now. Charles Proctor won the old-timers' golf championship for the state of New Hampshire. He claims modestly that all of his opponents either had spavin, ring- bone, or defective vision. Charles, how- ever, has none of these ailments except a slice which causes him considerable mental distress when it occasionally appears. Perry Fairfield and Everett Goodhue have just been sober citizens of the town, doing nothing to endanger the good reputation of the class except that both of them play golf every day in the week.
We have quite a lot more news, but are holding a little back for the November issue so as not to get caught with nothing notable to relate. If we get into a jam, all we have to do is to go down to the Inn football Saturdays and then tell about the men we saw who were in college during our time.
We would like to put in a paragraph or two about the reunion, but having sent out a brief report we will just let it go down into history as one of the greatest academic events the College has seen in many a year. Homer's Memorial Address proved that without any further arguments. By the way, Homer was in Hanover this summer for a brief visit and won the Secretary's eternal devotion by climbing three flights of stairs to surprise us at our work.
In conclusion do not fail to read the obituary of John Long in this issue, not because of the way it is written but because of the illustrious and outstanding career which he had. Think of what war did to him, when today there are rumblings and rumors of another war. John Long and Bill Stickney were more conscious than any other Dartmouth men of the horror which modern warfare creates, for they saw the mangled, bleeding, maimed bodies which were brought back from the front to either die within a few days or to carry through life injuries which never could be wholly healed. These two men gave their lives to their country during those momentous two years, although both struggled on for a few years after it was normally ended. ...
Secretary, 17 No. Balch St., Hanover, N. H.
