A quietness comes into the '76 group following the reunion in June, an apparent lessening of activity, a falling off in the exchange of letters;—a lull doubtless due to the vacation season, to be succeeded by renewed interest in the autumn.
A classmate has this curious musing. "Atthe time of our graduation in I8J6 wenoted among the older alumni men whowere born in the closing years of theeighteenth century. During the latest Commencement, as the graduating class werefiling out at the close of the baccalaureateexercises in the Bema, we looked into thefaces of men some of whom would live oninto the twenty-first century. We had hadcontact with men living in three centuries,the eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth;and now with a group who would survive,in part, on into a fourth century. This experience can only be had, evidently, bythose graduating in the seventies of eachcentury, or about that period, and, takingthe whole alumni body, by about one inone hundred."
Fennel writes interestingly of his daughter's eighty-odd varieties of gladiolus in her acre of flower garden.
A grandson of William H. Gardiner '76, son of William H. Gardiner '06, Edward M. Gardiner, Seattle, Wash., enrolls in the class of '40.
One classmate finds high lights of the past summer in Kipling's prose (read for the first time), Dorothy Canfield's novels, Jerome Brush's published drawings and brief sketches of the members of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and in the cultivation of Iceland poppies.
Secretary, 411 High St., West Medford, Mass.