A letter from Frank Howe reveals that he is still busy as a teacher of mathematics and science in the Fitchburg High School, a work that is conducted under some difficulties, as the school building, burned some time ago, has not yet been replaced by a permanent structure. Frank admits that he is no longer one of the youngsters, but counters by saying that he is not yet qualified for a pension, and takes increasing enjoyment in his work each year.
Despite a recent stay in the hospital, Nat Barrows reports that his health is restored 100% after his hard siege of last year.
Dr. Arthur Downing recently underwent a surgical operation in Brooks Hospital, Boston. He has now returned to his home in Littleton, and will rest on his farm there during the summer.
The Green Key Prom, in the past has made little impression on the Secretary, but this year it brought to Hanover Gilbert Balkam and Dana Sears, who, with Gil's son Gilbert (now a senior in the College), passed an evening at the Secretary's home. The class will regret to learn that Dana shows some tendency toward losing his hair; in fact, if he does not do something radical about it soon, he will, in the course of time, be in some danger of falling into the ranks of those who are commonly referred to as bald. The visit was a pleasant occasion to the Secretary and his wife, despite the fact that Dana was in a somewhat combative, not to say unreasonable, mood. The Secretary, having with some pride referred to the fact that the custom of college dances in May was founded by the class of 1900, Dana abruptly denied that such was the case, and even said that it was unreasonable to think that a group socially so uncultivated as we were in college could ever have thought of, to say nothing of having instituted, so elaborate a social affair as a dance. The Secretary attempted a rebuttal, but was compelled to admit, under Dana's relentless cross-examination, that he, personally, did not attend because of (a) lack of money, (b) lack of suitable clothes, (c) lack of a girl, (d) lack of ability to dance. Gil attempted to come to the rescue of the Secretary, but it developed that he did not attend the dance, either, although probably not for the reasons given above. So there was no direct evidence that 1900 ever gave a dance, and Dana, for the time, was triumphant. The socially minded members of the group should take him in hand.
Fred Jenkins writes from Mt. Verrton, N. Y., that physically he is not lip to par, but tries to keep up with class doings, and hopes that he may be able to attend some of the class functions in the future; a hope which is shared by every member of the class.
Joe Manion is New England representative for three furniture companies; one in Michigan, one in New York, and one in Pennsylvania. Like everything else, the furniture business has encountered its bumps in recent years, but it is now on its way back, and Joe anticipates a good year for 1936. He has two girls; the oldest just finishing junior high school.
Clarence McDavitt was good enough to give the Secretary some of his time when he was in Hanover recently for a meeting of the Athletic Council. Such meetings, the class should know, are exacting affairs, and Mac writes that he "was continuously engaged from the moment I left you onSaturday until I departed.from Hanover onMonday morning." Then, with the care for accuracy of a true business executive, he modifies this in a footnote by the phrase, "except for two short periods of sleep." Because of the laborious character of the work the Secretary determined long ago not to accept any offer to become a member of the Athletic Council, and with equal care for accuracy he adds the qualifying footnote, "an offer which no one in his right mindever dreamed of making."
Elizabeth, daughter of Dr. and Mrs. George W. Tong, was married in Brooklyn, N. Y., April 2, to William Stowell Gaffney of Weippe, Idaho. The officiating clergyman was the Rev. Cornelius B. Muste, of the Old First Dutch Reformed church, and the wedded couple left by airplane for Kalispell, Montana, their future home.
Elizabeth is a graduate of Wellesley, and also attended the graduate course in physical education in that college. Last summer she was councilor at a ranch camp in Montana. Here, on the top of a Montana mountain, she met her future husbarM, who is a graduate of the School of Forestry of the University of Idaho, and who is now connected with the government forestry service. The best wishes of 1900 go to these young people.
In another column appears a notice of the death of Harry Davis. In him the class has lost a loyal and faithful member.
Secretary, 11 North Park St., Hanover, N. H.