The Undergraduate Chair
With Ringing Wah-Hoo-Wahs, A Football Rally and Games, Dartmouth Ushers in the Autumn in Almost Prewar Fashion
A LOT HAS HAPPENED in Hanover during the last month. For one thing, Autumn has arrived. The artificial grass displayed in the department store windows has all died an unnatural death and has been replaced by artificial dead leaves. And the hills around Hanover are not too far behind in the latest styles. When I stop to think of it, I realize that this is about the time of year that College would usually be opening up and that the autumn brilliance which is marking the end of our semester would ordinarily hail a new college year. As yet there is no plan for speeding up the seasons.
For Hanover, October means raw, foggy mornings with fallen yellow leaves soaked onto the roads, the most noticeable early morning activity being the cadence of the V-i2ers marching around in the gloom. But by the time the morning classes are over, and the students pour out of the various buildings, the campus has turned warm and sunny with Indian Summer. The work of the learned professors is soon undone.
An afternoon walk to Balch Hill reveals an autumn scene better remembered than related: a little town of Hanover spread out below, occupying a small portion of a valley, which in turn occupies but a small part of the range of hills visible to the eye. The quiet is surprising—no rays of knowledge or intellect emanating from the buildings, not even a Voice Crying in the Wilderness; just a heavy silence broken by the occasional tinkle of a cowbell or the bark of an uneducated dog. So ageless does it seem, that one can scarcely tell the difference between New Hampshire and Vermont!
But if distance lends enchantment to Dartmouth College, direct contact stirs the blood of all but the most philosophical. I am thinking seriously of challenging the philosophy department to explain that strange phenomenon, the football rally.
Incidentally, not to forget the philoso- phers, the football rally has returned to Dartmouth. The night before the Holy Cross game was clear and cold, a typical fall night. Girls and alumni were milling around the Hanover Inn doorway. Some one was selling balloons and pennants on the corner. Commons had several lights showing, besides the regular red and green ones on either side of the main entrance (port and starboard, I'm told). Soon the distant thumping of the drums could be heard as the Band made up at Bartlett Hall. Then it came nearer and nearer, and louder and louder until "As the Backs Go Tearing By" seemed to come right out of the ground under foot. A torchlight procession over to the steps of Commons, speeches, a glimpse of the team; all this was consummated in a great bonfire which reflected on a thousand faces and cast alternate long black shadows and glows of pale orange light on Dartmouth Row, the pattern being determined by the whim of the dancing leaves. Gradually the fire died down and the crowd went home. I am still a little worried about the fact that some jokers from Holy Cross managed to get the microphone long enough to sing two Holy Cross songs.
As you have probably all been told, Notre Dame beat Dartmouth by a score of 64 to o. Of course you realize that if hadn't been for a few tough breaks we would have taken them. As it was, we displayed a remarkable talent for preventing them from scoring the "extra points" after the various touchdowns. Oh well, we all enjoyed seeing the Notre Dame steam roller. It's just too bad it couldn't have been Harvard they flattened instead of us. I was talking to a Notre Dame alumnus about the prospect of another game next year out at South Bend. He smugly explained that the only difference between playing Notre Dame in Boston and in South Bend was that in Boston they had only 35 men. "In South Bend," he said, "we use 65 men."
The rout did not dampen the undergraduate spirit, though. The trip down found the Band improving Dartmouth's already shaggy reputation with the B & M railroad by every once in a while sending a few members of the brass section down the length of the train to make sure that all the passengers knew that Dartmouth was in town again. I have it from the very best authority that the Parker House got the same treatment later on Saturday evening, and also that the usual small percentage of students got booted out of Boston's best hotels for making too much noise. This all goes to prove that morale is still pretty high up here despite the "rush job" and the fact that exams start next week.
