Books

OF A HUNTER, NOW!

May 1945 Vernon Hall Jr.
Books
OF A HUNTER, NOW!
May 1945 Vernon Hall Jr.

By Arthur HenryStein Jr. '43. Argus Press, Albany, N. Y.,1944, PP. 54.

This little book, attractively printed and decorated with illustrations in the spirit of the poems by his father is, aside from the memories of his parents and friends, all that remains of the young man who wrote it. He was killed in a routine training flight over Walnut Ridge, Arkansas, in the summer of 1943.

Arthur Henry Stein Jr. was born in Albany, New York, and attended school at the Albany Academy which has established a Memorial Collection in his memory. He entered Dartmouth in the fall of 1939 and was active in college activities. He was a member of Sigma Nu Fraternity. He had intended entering medical school after graduating from college but the war caused him to postpone this plan and he joined the United States Army in 1943. He was a member of the Dartmouth College Air Corps Unit and was in training for a commission at the time of his death.

In these poems of nature, of love, of friendship and of philosophical musings, the themes of hunting and of war are the strongest. His emphasis on the first was the result of a lifelong interest; the second was presented to him by his Age. The product of both activities is death. He had seen death in the woods many times and when he thought, as he often did, what end this war might bring to him, he was able, not to accept, but to understand. So, he could say: When I am gone, then you must say, "Fulfilled, A life complete, with all its forces spent, Well used—or used at least—and competent." So shall the killer then be killed.

He who has contemplated death shall know it too. He knew his friends and killed them for his gain; The grouse, the deer. Then like fair game he knew Was fairly stalked and finally killed with pain. You shudder at this death, your shallow prayer Lies dripping on the stars. You do not know That you would find or shall find there In death, but autumn's life-fulfillment. So I'll see Tomorrow in the sun-drenched air Where someone dragged a buck out on the snow.