1897
A picture of the living members of the 50year class is herewith presented to the alumni. We induced the cameraman to turn his clock back and picture us as we were on the old campus years ago. Here we are boys again returning to the College to renew our youth and sing our old songs again! "Climb up, ye little children, climb" was a spontaneous, rollicking song which we sang with a great deal of jollity. Where the tune came from is in doubt. We hope the class of '47 will join us in singing this song which fits the '47 numerals as well as '97.
We present the score of this song. Also in very sketchy form the score of an old song which we used to hear so often which might be titled, "The Sidewalks of Lebanon." This was sung to us by a wandering minstrel after a visit to "Leb." This singer had a good whiskey tenor voice and his song was given as a solo, rendered almost every balmy Saturday night; all Saturday nights were "balmy" for Pat. Out on the campus near Reed Hall by the college pump he could be heard singing for his own entertainment, and ours in the dormitory. He was one of the characters of Hanover, one of the few strange fellows that came onto the campus.
There were a number of these about college. The others didn't come on the campus, as I remember, at all. Sammy—was another one of these interesting town folk, a little man and a master of his craft. He made things. His wife was neither little nor literary. When a student was drowned while on a canoe trip on the river, her remark was, "I shouldn'ta thought that he wouldn'ta went if he couldn't have swum." I used to like to go to his shop and see him Use his hands. Another character named John was a nearby farmer and a very positive, hard-working quick-spoken man. He and another farmer, also named John—were the only two members of the Copperhead Party that I remember meeting in my college days, who lived in Hanover. The first John related his courtship and proposal of marriage in words that were exactly typical of him and his wife. I knew them well, during my post-graduate year. Of his love making and proposal he said, "I went up to the top of the hill (Balch hill) one time to carry up a yoke of oxen and they asked me to stop to supper. As I 'sot dawn' to the table I see there was a likely looking girl 'sot' opposite me at the table. After supper I stepped right up to her and said, 'Haw'd you like just such a man as I be?' She said she didn't know, and I told her I'd give her to the middle of the week to decide. She wrote me down the middle of the week she'd like me 'fus-trate,' and that's all the courting I ever done." This was direct if not perfect English. And from the way they discussed things together I think the courtship was exactly reported.
Another one of these was a man named "Hamp," of strong character. He liked kicking horses. Said they were tougher. Another one nick-named Sloppy was important. He was our sanitary officer—water in and slops out was his job. He was steady as a time piece and always respectful and I think respected by all. He carried the water to the dormitories on a drag in a barrel, filling up at the well on the campus, with his old spavined horse.
None of us will ever forget Nash, the driver of the coach taking us to and from the station. I've always had a fisherman's kindly feeling for him, for he was a fisherman going early in the morning as poachers should. He didn't tell us where he caught them but Erdix and I knew his secret.
July and August in Hanover were pleasant months for us at the Thayer School, and we met the townspeople more than during the college semester. In the summer we joined a dancing class. One of the older belles, a lot older and a good deal heavier than the average but at the same time very charming, got my Thayer School roommate, Jimmy Mann, arid myself mixed up in our names. She wrote me a note inviting me to a dinner party which I received knowing that she intended to invite him. Well, I was generous! He went and used my name and she never knew she had made a mistake.
This is the last call for our 50th. Let's all make up our minds to be there and take the old clock o£ time by both hands and turn it back and be boys again. As your secretary, I will undertake to record any true or half-true yarn that any classmate may relate, provided it is embellished in proper style proportionate to the number of retellings. "Butter" told me about a trip one time up in the hilly part of Vermont where he went to inspect the cutting of timber by a power company near a wood lot he owned, hoping to find that they had cut over his line (Vermont has a triple damage law for such overline cutting). Going up a steep, winding hill road of this "gore" town, he saw an old farmer with a horse and buggy coming down. Getting his car over as far as he could on the narrow road, he waited for the old man to pass. As the horse came opposite, he stopped and "Butter" said, "Good morning." No answer. Thinking the old man was deaf, he said louder, "Good morning." Still no answer. The third time loud and clear he shouted, "Good morning, Sir." The old man turned and asked, "Would you like to argue about it?"
Don't argue about coming! Get out the old gas buggy, take a train, ride a bicycle (Lull came to college on a 60-lb. Columbia), hitch- hike or just plain walk! Don't argue but come! '97 up, '97 up, '97 up. (June 13, 14, 15).
PRESENT ACTIVE MEMBERS OF THE CLASS OF '97 AS THE AEGIS SHOWED THEM: Secretary Ham crashes through with his second historical composite picture in as many months. Along with the scores of two popular songs of their undergraduate days are the Aegis pictures of the '97ers. Top row, left to right, Adams, Appleton, Balch, Bolser, Brown, Carr, Chase, Christophe. Second row, Day, Drew, Foss, Gibson, Gilman,-Ham, Heald, Henderson. Third row, Hilton, Goodenow. Fourth row. Holt, Huckins. Fifth row, Johnson, Kelly, Lull, McFee, Moloney, Meserve, Morse, Mosher. Sixth row, Noyes, Parker, Pender, Rollins, Rowe, Ryan, Sibley. Seventh row, Simpson, Smith, Tent, Temple. Eighth row, Tracy, Tuttle. Ninth row, Ward, Watson.
Secretary, 886 Main St., Bridgeport 3, Conn Treasurer, 53 State St., Boston 9, Mass.
