Class of 1919

Now that the frost has left the julip and gone to the pumpkin, we have to brace ourselves and get back to the job of making news out of nothing. An inspection of the files reveals that evidently the class as a whole has considered the summer months as no time to take pen in hand, for we find absolutely no news of any kind. This reduces us to dishing up to you a travelogue, "Nineteeners met in the Summer Hither and Yoning."

Going way back to last May and the annual secretaries' meeting, since which there has been no issue of this very fine publication, one of the features of the program was an address by Cottie Larmon on the progress of the Social Survey Committee. The whole meeting was agog to find out what was going on, what was going to be done, and when. They found out absolutely nothing. Mr. Larmon did an excellent job of speaking very attractively for a moderate length of time without disclosing one of the secrets with which they expect to startle the world next year. His opening remarks were even more mysterious to most of that august body, for on rising he said that it was a privilege indeed to address such a fine group, in fact he annually looked forward to the coming of the secretaries, for they frequently assisted him in adjusting his budget so as to get through the year, mainly through their misguided efforts on the golf course. Looking pointedly at Ed Leech and me, he said that he saw two of his greatest helps sitting in the back of the room, but that he missed the delegate from Buffalo (meaning Gale, who frequently crashes these meetings). To say that we were roused is to put it mildly. The next afternoon, just to put the professor in his place, Ed and we teamed against Earl Blaik and the same Larmon—and did we take them? It was a long time ago, but seven up remains vaguely in mind.

We got ourselves up to Hanover for Commencement, expecting to find Mai Drane and a large group of New Rochelliets, who had been urging us to promote a 16th reunion. We found neither Mai nor his gang, but there were several good Nineteeners about. Spider (as usual looking for his hat), Freddie Ives, John and Hester McCrillis were in Hanover in addition to the boys in urbe. And up at Twenty's picnic who should suddenly appear in the midst of things but little Jimmie Bear, the demon of Detroit.

Later, in July, the Davises, with young, spent a very happy week-end with the McCrillises at their Lake Sunapee estate. The Nortons came down from Hanover with John, and we inspected a ten-acre island just off the McCrillises' point with the idea of investing the class funds in a "Nineteen at Sunapee" project. We even had Norton steamed up under the pressure of our enthusiasm, but when he got back to the college counting house he reverted to his savings bank policy.

While we were in New York doing the watering places of Long Island, we intended to get into the city and see some of the boys—dig up some news and all that. However we kept putting it off until a rainy day, and it never rained. We did get in to dinner one evening with the very- much-about-town Martins. They took us to One Fifth Ave., the most famous address in the world, and we ate steaks out on the sidewalk in the New York manner. It was fun for us provincials.

This out-of-doors thing is getting into our blood, and we found ourselves in the Dartmouth Alumni Outing Club Ravine Cabin at Moosilauke several times this summer, where we enjoyed more than ever the grand hospitality of Peggy and Fordie Sayre. We took Norton with us once and fully expected to have to carry him most of the way in, but much to our surprise he made it quite well for a man whose only exercise since early youth was pumping a trombone during his undergraduate days. We managed to get in and out of Hanover several times during our week-ending in New Hampshire. McCarter we found out of town and vacationing with family in Maine; Cottie we engaged in combat on several occasions, and our average is still pretty good. Earl Blaik was off to Ohio for a part of the summer and we didn't see him. Max continues to add to his many honors and responsibilities. He has just been made treasurer (imagine!) of all Dartmouth out-of-doors activities, and a trustee of the Hospital, a very much deserved honor. We also met Ken Huntington, who was up vacationing on his farm in Orford, famous as the birthplace of the Great Norma, reunion pig. Ken reports that Norma had a litter of nineteen this spring, which is not surprising, and that none of the men about the place will have any part in her marketing. Ken says he guesses she will still be around for the 20th, and he will bring her with her current family.

The classes of 1919, 1920, and 1921 had a golf tournament, or day in the country, according to who your partner was. Personally we had Spen Dodd, who swept everything before him and won the high gross, needless to say the only honor won by our team. Rock Hayes and Art Havlin played against us and are still investing the profits through Paine Webber (advt.), which accounts for the current mild boom in the stock market. Elmer Pilsbury and Pete Grey were the other Nineteeners who played, but Bob Roland and Louis Munro were there for dinner. Elmer and we shared the stake in the big bagatelle contest after dinner, so that the day was not entirely disastrous in spite of Dodd.

And yesterday the paper carried the first reports of football practice. By the time this gets into print the Norwich game will be in the records. Phil Bird, still smarting under the treatment afforded by the University Club of Boston last year, sprang into immediate action, and has al- ready reserved the finest room for the night before the Harvard game in late October. Details of this will appear in the next Nineteen News. We are planning also to have the mixed luncheon Saturday noon before the game, somewhere in Cambridge within easy walking distance of the Stadium. We are arranging this year to have enough food to take care of Googins, who had a hard time last year, and a little more adequate supply of everything. It is our impression that everybody enjoyed the get-together last year, but we well realize that it was not as well organized as it might have been. We can promise that things will be 100% this time. New York is planning things for the Yale, Princeton, and Columbia games, the dope on which will come along later.

Scretary, 21 Longfellow Rd., Cambridge, Mass.