Class of 1914
Any class under our abundant life might acquire a postmaster, but to have a postmaster who is also a poet would seem to have some news value, and we have that combination—the same being Gail Gardner, who has been living out in Arizona ever since graduation, doing all the things the cowboys do and dabbling in cowboy poetry on the side.
Gail writes: "I was in the cow businessfrom 1916 until 1928, when I sold most ofmy ranch equipment. You can take a boyout of the country but you can't take thecountry out of a boy, so I kept a very fewcattle on the small ranch in Skull Valley.It is only twenty miles from Prescott, so Igo there Sundays and fool with the cattle.I raise enough to have a good beef when Ixuatit it and to make jerky when I feel likeit."
He hopes to make the next reunion, and we shall all look forward to seeing him. He enclosed a book of his poems together with his portrait, which is reproduced herewith, and we are sure he will be glad to sell you a complete outfit if you like the sample—and here it is:
THE SIERRY PETES*
(Or, Tying the Knots in the Devil's Tail) Away up high in the Sierry Petes, Where the yeller pines grows tall, Ole Sandy Bob an' Buster Jig, Had a rodeer camp last fall.
Oh, they taken their hosses and runnin' irons And mebbe a dawg or two, An' they 'lowed they'd brand all the longyered calves That come within their view.
And any old dogie that flapped long yeres, An' didn't bush up by day, Got his long yeres whittled an' his old hide scortched, In a most artistic way.
Now one fine day ole Sandy Bob, He throwed his seago down, "I'm sick of the smell of burin' hair, "And I 'lows I'm a-goin' to town." So they saddles up an' hits 'em a lope, Fer it warnt no sight of a ride, And them was the days when a Buckeroo Could ile up his inside.
Oh, they starts her in at the Kaintucky Bar, At the head of Whisky Row, And they winds up down by the Depot House, Some forty drinks below.
They then sets up and turns around, And goes her the other way, An' to tell you the Gawd-forsaken truth, Them boys got stewed that day.
As they was a-ridin' back to camp, A-packin' a pretty good load, Who should they meet but the Devil himself, A-prancin' down the road.
Sez he, "You ornery cowboy skunks, "You'd better hunt yer holes, "Fer I've come up from Hell's Rim Rock, "To gather in yer souls."
Sez Sandy Bob, "Old Devil be damned, "We boys is kinda tight, "But you aint a-goin' to gather no cowboy souls, " 'Thout you has some kind of a fight."
So Sandy Bob punched a hole in his rope, And he swang her straight and true, He lapped it on to the Devil's horns, An' he taken his dallies too.
Now Buster Jig was a riata man, With his gut-line coiled up neat, So he shaken her out an' he built him a loop, An' he lassed the Devil's hind feet.
Oh, they stretched him out an' they tailed him down, While the irons was a-gettin' hot, They cropped and swaller-forked his yeres, Then they branded him up a lot.
They pruned him up with a de-hornin saw, An' they knotted his tail fer a joke, They then rid off and left him there, Necked to a Black-jack oak.
If you're ever up high in the Sierry Petes, An' you hear one Hell of a wail, You'll know its that Devil a-bellerin' around, About them knots in his tail. (Copyright, 1929, in "Cowboy Campfire Ballads," by George B. German, with, permission of Gail I. Gardner.) (Copyright, 1935, by Gail I. Gardner.) * Sierry Petes—a range of mountains just west of Prescott, Arizona.
OCEAN TRAVEL DEPARTMENT
We guess we told you that the Burleighs did Europe in general and England in particular this summer. They are now back, and John will be glad to show you the post cards if you urge him quite gently.
We saw Win Loveland on the train to his summer home in Chatham. As you know, he is professor of English at Boston University and has been spending part of his sabbatical year in England tracing down medieval English manuscripts and searching for additional material for the coming year.
The Kenneth Grants wandered around the Caribbean this summer, emphasizing Bermuda for three or four weeks. One of our scouts, that famous salesman in the well-known Washington St. Dartmouth hattery, reports that Mr. Dutch Burnham called in recently with Mr. Allan Tukey. The former selected a hat for the latter, giving the address as The Normandie, French Line, New York City. This may mean that Mr. Tukey is Europebound, which we hope later to confirm.
45TH REUNION FEATURE 1914 SON DUPLICATES DAD'S FEAT
Such a caption may, we hope, appear in the metropolitan press some years hence, when Robert Allan Loudon breaks up the Commencement game with a home run even as his daddy used to do. So welcome, Bob (he arrived June 37), and may your class be as proud of you as we are of your dad. And we all hope to be in Hanover to see you graduate.
KEEPING SOMETHING FROM US DEPARTMENT
Mart Remsen reports that he and the Missus were startled one day this summer while motoring through the Connecticut hills by a sign looming up before them which read:
ROBERT HOPKINS, LADIES' HOSIERY MILL
. . . . which may be just a coincidence of name, but if a fact and there are free samples being offered, the sizes are nine and nine and one-half respectively, in colors to match the new fall wood-browns.
We had a pleasant visit from Roscoe DeWitt on his way back from Hanover after being awarded 1914's first honorary degree at Hanover. Roscoe hasn't changed a bit and bears his honors with extreme modesty. Although he wouldn't admit it publicly, he is one of the outstanding architects of the Southwest, having done considerable work for the Texas Exposition at Dallas, the larger hospitals in his community, Southern Methodist University, and many others.
He has visited a great many colleges pursuing his vocation, and he said that the Baker Library at Hanover is, in his opinion, the outstanding college library in the United States.
The class is honored in the awarding of the honorary degree to Roscoe, and we shall look forward to seeing him at our next reunion.
We understand that L. D. White has given up his work with the United States Civil Service Commission in Washington and has returned to his professorship at the University of Chicago. Perhaps we should have applied for that government job earlier.
Shortly after Commencement you received a bulletin from John Burleigh outlining the class position in the Alumni Fund. We are, of course, very proud of the administrative efforts of our Chairman and President Sig and the efficient cooperation which all members gave John Burleigh in his specific class efforts. To secure 104% of our class quota with 91% of the graduates of the class making a contribution, is, statistically, an outstanding job. But to get the complete picture one should mention this to Alumni Fund representatives of some of our sister colleges. To them it is quite incredible. They cannot be blamed for a bit of envy.
To us it is particularly attributable to the foresight of President Hopkins in organizing the Secretaries' Association, upon which the tradition of the Alumni Fund has so successfully been administered. We can all be justly proud of this year's success.
We have no news from Lester Little at this writing, although he is supposed to be in Canton, China. Last June he wrote that his son John would be a sophomore at Hanover this year, and his daughter was leaving for Switzerland and expects to enter Wellesley. We all hope he is unharmed in the present difficulties.
We spent a portion of this summer on Cape Cod and were intrigued by the roadside signs announcing "Win Webber's Beach Plum Jelly." We stopped at a couple of places and sampled the product, which is excellent, but we didn't see Win. We will be back for more next summer, Win.
BACK TO SCHOOL DEPARTMENT
We understand Win Snow has been taking a course in ceramics this summer at M. I. T. From some years' experience in the business of ceramics we trust that Win will acquire some of the secrets which have so successfully evaded us these past few years.
Pennell Aborn has been doing intensive work in personnel administration at Boston University this summer. He, by tlie way, is in charge of the personnel department at Tech.
While in Wilmington, Del., this spring we called Jesse Stillman who helps to make better things for better living through chemistry for the DuPonts. Unfortunately he was out, but we had a very pleasant chat with Mrs. Stillman, and they expect to be in Hanover at our next reunion.
From the address changes received we learn that Bob Dunbar is now shoe designer with the Allied Shoe Company of Elgin, 111.
Through the devious channels of Chet Butts 'll, looking for funds to pay off the mortgage on the house, we discovered that Art Emerson has retired from the Navy and is now living on Route 1 in Darlington, Md.
Kid Claeys is back in the United States on a permanent basis, we understand, with offices at 135 East 43d St., New York City.
Vahan Kalenderian—occupation not noted—also has a new address: 25 West 43d St.. New York City, which is the same as recently reported for Bob Hopkins, which makes us wonder if they occupy adjoining offices.
Jack Field is with the Basic Dolomite Inc., Maple Grove, Ohio. If Jack would tell us what Basic Dolomite is we would tell you.
We had a letter from Carl Howland in North Haverhill, N. H. He tells us he has given up the profession of school teaching, and has retired to operate the family homestead. Carl is the fifth in direct line to own and work this farm, and he says he is having a very pleasant time doing so.
HARVARD GAME
The class will meet at the Parker House, 5:30 P.M., Friday, October 32. We shall have a buffet supper, so please all come and come early and stay as long as you can.
If you have read thus far you have been reading the worst class notes in the best Class Notes section in the best alumni magazine in the United States, and it deserves your support. Likewise the class needs money to carry on its activities. Follow the lead of Doc Cook, who, months ago, sent in his dues and subscription for the ALUMNIMAGAZINE for the coming year. Send your remittance to John Piane, so as not to miss any of the issues of this outstanding magazine.
GAIL I. GARDNER
Secretary, 367 Boylston St., Boston
