Class of 1935

Women are not allowed to dine in the Hall of Trinity College, and the best story I know this month is about the girl who dressed up as a man, academic gown and all, in order to get in. She walked gingerly down the long hall between the astonished portraits of King Henry VIII, Isaac New- ton, Byron, and Stanley Baldwin and sat down at one of the rough uncovered tables with some undergraduates. Before very long the manciple, who pricks off the roll, got down to that end and with a quizzical stylus in one hand he regarded the new- comer with evident indecision but with no apparent surprise. Finally, in the bland voice common to manciples, he mildly inquired, "Are you a woman, sir?"

The other night, by some meteorological error, Cambridge was covered with snow. It was even crunchy for a little while, and the stars shone out and I thought of that crisp "dry cold" of Hanover. But people were unhappy, and when the next day it poured with rain, everybody was wreathed in smiles while young floods sloshed around the streets. The constant topic of conversation is the Mississippi flood. Very few have any idea how big the confounded river is and when I think of it myself I begin to wonder whether Charlie Drackett is floating downstream on top of a barn at thirty miles an hour. Somebody in the class lives in Memphis too, although ah disremembers fo' the moment. This catastrophe should have one good effect. It ought to improve Frank Corlett's business. He is Export Manager of the "Covered Wagon Company" in Mount Clemens, Michigan. They make these fancy trailers, or caravans, and ship them all over the world. Is your home under water? Buy a Corlett Caravan! It keeps the door away from the river.

Frank had a hard time getting started and he says that customs men are just as tough when you write as when you talk to 'em. "Every time a trailer is turned around,we have to prepare another set of documents or something." Mt. Clemens is close enough to Detroit so that Frank gets in once in a while to the Tuesday luncheons, but about the only fellow he's seen has been Bob Ferry who wandered through a maze of contracts to the managerial desk. In his hand he had some kind of marvellous invention to hold two pieces of metal together, chafeless and rattleless. But Corlett Caravans were then mostly of wood so they just reminisced. In his letter were a couple of pictures showing the loading of trailers for export. Now that reminds me that it might be an excellent idea if everybody sent me snaps like this—pictures of your job, the boss, your favoriate stenographer; or if you are one of the hymeneal brethren, the latest arrival.

Nemine contradicente, Douglas Eugene Saunders will grow up under the joint auspices of the class of 1935 and his father and mother, Don Saunders, and Fern Peterson Saunders. He was born September 21, 1936. All hail the Class Baby!

Curt Lamorey, who was last heard of in Sherwin-Williams and Co., writes from the Riverdale Country School near New York. He left the paint business when he was shifted from export to sales and is now a thriving member of the pedagogic band- taking kids to Cuba, Jamaica, and Haiti over Easter and planning to get back to France during the summer. "I am at present teaching French and Spanish in thisprivate school, and I am really crazy aboutit. The future may never be great financially, but at least I shall have time to enjoy the money I do make and take occasional trips back to la ville de perdition(for Gallagher) at de culture at de beaut e(for me) I am at present on dormitory duty, and the bells tell me I must tuckthe cherubs in bed and throw the toughones into their rooms."

Here's a letter from the habitue de la ville 3e p., now resting up in Oxford while the Thames indulges in a valiant attempt to emulate the Mississippi. "I hope youaren't so completely awash at Cambridgeas we seem to be down here, also in Cincinnati. The main object of this epistle isin regard to the question why haven't Ibeen receiving your scandal sheet, other-wise known as the ALUMNI MAGAZINE. Canyou elucidate in regard to this all important matter." Then the telegraphic style breaks down and a pleasant pastoral touch is added. "Rumor hath it that I have totake examinations this June. The kidhasn't worked, so hard since his last HourExam in Hanover!"

While I'm on the foreign news, is Charlie (Shorty) Lebeaux still in Greece? Yesterday I found a card from him which had gotten lost in the pages of a big and somewhat stodgy book. Finding the card was like finding a dollar bill in the trousers you are sending to the cleaners. At any rate this is what Shorty was doing: "I havebeen at the American School of ClassicalStudies and the University of Athens studying Byzantine Civilization. You can haveno idea of the 'hysychia' (peace) here onMount Athos, so before I fall asleep, I amsincerely yours, Charles Labazaud."

From the sedate confines of the Harvard Medical School, in the far from hysychious utterance of one G. F. Hill, comes substantiation of the wedding of Greene Cam- eron Duncan to some Texan belle. "School-master Hagerman and Lumberman Stowellstopped in yesterday and in a careless mo-ment I said, 'Yes,' to our annual scramblefor funds. I still think it will be a coup fora class to drop a dollar per man in a box atthe exit from the Bema to be applied thefollowing spring as a 100% representationfor the first class out—additional contribu-tions of course being acceptable The medical school thirty-fivers are hold-ing on. Dyer, Reagan and I eye JohnnyJewett with envy for he is now a wholeyear ahead of us." Last fall Jack and Bill Clark wept on one another's shoulder during the Princeton tie game and apparently through their tears spied Colton, Specht (Fnaph and Fnaph), Bill Feingold, Norm Rand, Si Millstein.

Colton himself has been moved into a new department of the Clark Thread Company in Newark. "We are responsible formaintaining an adequate stock of merchandise in all depots over the country.That means anticipating demand, orderingproduction, shipments, etc. It's good, butI'm still in a quandary " (cf. R. Benchley).

BERKEY BOOM

"By the bye I can't interest you in someNorth Shore Acreage, can I? We really havethe garden spot of America. Take for instance the weather situation right now. It'sraining today—but yesterday 70 and 75 inthe sun . ... no coats Really,Will, it's great." Berkey talking . . . . again. Jim has his own letterhead now and is handling part of his father's business- sales, advertising, and control, to use the Tuck School terms. I read an article the other day about the coming real estate slump in America and I've been worried ever since. Still if it stays 750 on Long Island, everybody'll be able to recoup growing bananas and breadfruit. A big New Year's eve party was indulged in by Jewett, Croninger (down from Schenectady), Howe, Meyers and Griffin. Arnie Sammis and Jim were going in but were dissuaded by the rain. Sam was laid up with jaundice, which is one lousy affliction as I know to my cost, and was three weeks late getting back to med school at Rochester. He made the work up, which is quite a feat at medical school. The New Year's party, among the 80,000 in Times Square as the light goes down or up or whatever it does at midnight, bumped right into Bill Chapman (with Price-Waterman Co.). Johnny Howe, after leaving the Consumer's Co-op to its own devices, is now working in the psychometric lab of Stevens Institute of Technology; "very enthusiastic." Dick Meyers has just been put in charge of selling "Sylphrap" to a pretty big slice of the country down south, with head- quarters at Atlanta. (Berkey calls it "transferred to Atlanta" .... tch-tch.) Johnny Jewett says: "Apparently, my lifeas a care free young 'un is over, for I'vejust signed away thewhole summer to takea junior internship at the Brooklyn Hospital. Expect the only time I'll see anyfriends will be when they come in withbroken legs or a touch of measles."

ODDS BODKINS: Somebody writes that "by an unexpected application of will-power" he stayed home Saturday night and wrote me a letter! Bud Fraser was spotted in the distance at the "Pirate's Den" in Westchester, whence Berkey, with the expert aid of three accomplices, purloined a beer mug holding two whole quarts. "Figure it out for yourself," he says. "Clothedin light summer apparel—[this was the summer, by the way, and not just Long Island]—I had to pass by our waiter, the waiter atthe next table, two guardians of theportals, and the first mate of that rowdy.crew of cut-throats, with a two quart mugconcealed on my person." The only explanation we can think of at the moment is that Fraser must have been doing something at that other table.

Jim Coppeto is still holding forth at the Marquette Medical School. He has just been elected treasurer of his chapter of Alpha Kappa Kappa medical fraternity, but is drowning sorrow over bad accounts in good Milwaukee beer. Ben Rein and Bill Bradt are hibernating somewhere there too, Ben in dental school and Bill selling insurance. Frank Specht has transferred to Bridegport—still with Firestone—and is living at the "Y" with Phil Hemphill. Ed Mitchell is celebrating his first wedding anniversary the 22nd of February, and is employed in the Texas Company in New York.

Another story and I'm through. Frank Corlett, in little Mount Clemens, Mich., is regarding his landlady a little quizzically since she keeps talking about going down to New Haven. "To me she looked a litteold for that sort of thing, but of coursedidn't say anything for a long time.Eventually, it got me down, and I cameright out with the question: 'Do you see any of the Yale games?' 'Yale games'she asked, rather bewilderedly, 'What doyou mean, Yale games?'" Frank explained carefully about the jinx and then: " 'Didyou ever see New Haven, Michiganr sheasked." Frank collapsed, and says he doesn't think she quite believes there is another New Haven, even now. Heigh-ho, it's a small world. I'll be in New Haven myself in a couple of days.

Secretary, Trinity College, Cambridge, England