1916
Writing these lines late in September, knowing you will not read them for a month, I cogitate over the fact that it seems as if I am always announcing my entrance to or departure from some hospital or other, this time the Naval Hospital at Bremerton, Wash., which I shall enter day after tomorrow with tingles of anticipation. Naval hospitals (if you will pardon a personal note) are very deliberate. When they examine you, you are examined, and no foolishness about rushing things. Of course, they do wake you up at 6 a.m., just when you have fallen into a deep and restful slumber, after lying awake an hour listening to the argument between two pharmacists' mates in the corridor, and insist on your getting washed up and eating breakfast, or is it eating breakfast and getting washed up? Then there is the long morning, when you read the papers, listen to a few soap operas and try to decide what you will do while incarcerated to improve your mind, postponing final decision until after lunch, which is followed by a nice nap. After falling asleep reading a chapter from some deadly tome, you fall back upon Lorenzo Jones, Widder Brown and Portia Faces Life, until time to go downstairs and see the movies. From this you will gather that while I eat and sleep well, I just don't like to work, so hospitals appeal to me.
At this distance from home, and with no re- cent word from Jack English, it can be difficult to find news about our class to write. However, a day with the Burnhams, and another with the Blaneys, are worth writing about. It seems that the Western State Fair, in Puyallup, Wash, (about 30 miles from Seattle) has been here a week and playing to capacity crowds. I eased down to Puyallup, wondering how to pronounce .it, to give it a pre-view. As an old experienced country fair goer, I say it was terrific. I inspected each pig, cow, sheep, horse, bear cub, deer, beaver, otter, dahlia, apple, plum and trick squash. I watched the races, the calf-roping, the broncobusting, the fancy riding by Texas girls, the high wire acts, and the cowboys walking around in their tight-fitting dungarees, which flappers affect in eastern high schools, and their high boots and curled-brim houses. I ate peanuts, popcorn, hamburgers and hot dogs, carefully omitting the spun sugar candy which gets in your eyes and ears like steel wool insulation in your attic.
However—however, I say, there was much that X missed, so the following Saturday Percy and Aline Burnham, a couple of swell people to visit a fair with (Percy with his Brooklyn accent and Aline with her Mississippi musical dialect), and I drove down to Puyallup and did the Fair over again, this time taking care not to miss the tatting, embroidery, needlepoint, the hobby show, featured by fine photography and grotesque driftwood, and ending up with the grandstand show again, with wonderful fireworks. The papers say 350,000 visited the Fair during the week, including the Dartmouth contingent and the Scandinavian. Don't miss it next year.
The following day Hank Blaney picked me up at the B.O. Q. and drove me out to his new acres near the hamlet of Bothell. Hank has a little rambler, set in the middle of about two acres, which have apple trees full of fruit, all kinds of berries, corn, beans, grape vines, fine shrubbery and one of the biggest pine trees you ever saw. There is a view from the front yard over the little village, which looks like one of those on the Central Vermont, and of the Olympic Mountains, and, on clear days, a sight of Mt. Rainier. Marion talked about books she thought I should read while whipping up a wonderful dinner of ham, corn, which Hank and I picked, baked potatoes, salad, hot apple pie and ice cream, which we ate in front of the blazing fire. A most pleasant day with a classmate, and I went home loaded with apples and plums and when we reached the B.O. Q. X forgot to give Hank back his topcoat, and he had to come back after it.
Carl Eskeline and Lucille, touring in Mexico, sent me a card, showing the tree-lined Paseo de la Reforma, and I urge you all to do likewise—go to Mexico and send the secretary a card. Eskie should have something to tell us about when he gets back. But he says I'll have to interview him about his bullfighting.
Phil Nordell, the Ambler Rambler, wants to know who it was who waved at him on July 17 at the turn-off point from Route 5 to Route 10 across the Hanover-Norwich bridge. Phil was in a convertible with top down and the other guy was in a closed car, so Phil couldn't make out who he was and is sorry he did not turn around and chase him, such encounters with friends being one of the pleasures of the open road. Phil adds that it may be interesting to whomever is interested in vital statistics that of the 16 men who were the 1916 delegation in Casque & Gauntlet, every one is alive. The mathematical odds against 16 men aged about 22 being alive in 1951 is one to 1500. The moral of this may be, for all X know—join the C. & G. and live forever. Phil closed a very interesting letter, which I wish he would let me quote in full by saying: "While in Hanover on July 17, the street right in front of Dartmouth Hall was shut to traffic while one or more of the biggest of the ancient giant elms was being dismembered. Sictransit mundus." Well, if it were Washington State they would have cut the elm down long ago for export.
Hobey Marble writes from Portland, Me., where he and Dallea have been helping D.P.'s find jobs and places to live. Hobey remarks that there are many good weeks of delightful weather ahead before winter really elamps down, but as the "years go by I am less and less appreciative of zero weather and a couple of feet of snow."
Sally Fenno had an attack of meningitis in mid-summer, but early in August was back home and mending fast. By now, we hope, Sally is fully recovered.
Charlie and Mrs. Brundage announced the engagement of their daughter June to William Bowen Cater, of Montgomery, Ala. June graduated from Wellesley and Mr. Cater from Harvard.
Jim Colton is still busy with his Naval Reserve division in Worcester. He mentions seeing Ed Craver very often and playing tennis with him. Ed's youngest son was married in late August, but we have no details on the wedding. I have been expecting an account of the Cole family travels, so charmingly touched upon by Jack English, from Mrs. Cole (Lucille Deneen), who is the writing agent for the musical Coles, but no word yet. Can she have forgotten that she is still on the Balmacaan editorial staff?
H. BURTON LOWE 'l6 was recently elected chair- man of the American Chemical Society's New York Section. Executive vice-president of Reinhold Pub- lishing Corporation, publisher of chemical catalogs, he resides in Roslyn Heights, L. I.
Secretary, 8.0. Q., Pier 91, Seattle, Wash.
Treasurer, 27 Concord St., Nashua, N. H.
