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Butler Alumnal 
Quarterly 



APRIL, 1918 
Vol. Vll No. 1 



INDIANAPOLIS 






Edward J. Hecker 

Printer 
5241 East Washington Street 



./I 



Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Co. 



announce 



To Be Published in April 

a New Book by 

John Iden Kautz 
''Trucking to the Trenches" 

Letters from France, June — November, 1917 



The author has had some exciting experiences in many sectors of 

the front. 
His letters are written with a vein of poetic feeling that gives them 

decided charm and distinction. 



For sale at all stores where books are sold, or orders 
may be sent to 

The Alumnal Quarterly 

Price, $1.25 net 



[ButlerynlvRPsiiyj 



Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Vol. VII INDIANAPOLIS, IND., APRIL, 1918 No. i 

Founder's Day Address 

By Dean Stanley Coulter, Purdue University 

I presume that on an occasion such as this you have a right to 
expect that I should select some subject bearing upon education; 
that I should tell you something of what college education has done 
for the State of Indiana especially; how it has been borne in upon 
the consciences and lives of our people in such a way that they have 
poured out money for the founding of institutions of learning in a 
way that is perfectly marvelous. When you consider the amount 
that has been given for other institutions and then take the last 
twenty-five or thirty or forty years and consider the vast amounts 
poured into education by private individuals, by state and govern- 
ment, it is positively amazing. To those who are engaged in uni- 
versity work, whether as students or instructors, the question must 
come as to whether or not the returns we are giving are commensu- 
rate for all this expenditure of money and time and effort — but after 
all I am not going to talk about this. 

There is something wonderfully fascinating when we talk about 
the builders of great empires. One of the most fascinating sort of 
books one can read is that which tells the story of the builders of 
empires. When you consider the lives of the founders and builders 
of colleges there is always revealed a most fascinating story, and 
it would be most interesting and appropriate this morning to talk 
about the life of Mr. Butler and of those who worked with him; 
of their prevision ; of how they saw the future and saw the future 
needs ; of how in the days of meagre population, how in the days 
of little wealth as compared with to-day, they laid the foimdations 
which made Butler College possible; and other men, with similar 
vision and similar courage, laid the foundations which made other 



2 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

colleges possible, until all over this land of ours we have open doors 
of opportunity for young men and young women who want to come 
into the highest possible self-realization. When you begin to think 
of such a life you find it has in it an element of power, and above 
all it has a simplicity and ruggedness that comes as a compelling 
stimulus and as a constant inspiration. You think of their faith, 
their faith in you, and their faith in the fact that education is one 
of the foundation stones of the church ; their faith in God ; you 
think of their courage, their loyalty in the midst of difficulty, and 
of how you have entered into their labors. We are born into a time 
where we have to prove ourselves worthy of these far-seeing, brave- 
hearted, self-sacrificing men and women who made our opportunities 
possible, and so it is well that every year you come together to cele- 
brate Founder's Day, because in that far distant time in the past 
there were men and women who had vision and courage, who had 
hearts of faith, and who were willing to sacrifice that you and I 
might come a little more perfectly into God's likeness which is our 
divine inheritance. 

And yet in spite of the fascination of such a subject and of what 
it would mean to us now, I am going to depart from it a little bit, 
because it makes no difference what we would like to do, you and I 
cannot help thinking of and talking about the war ; and, regardless 
of what the subject is, we are sure to come back to that subject. 

I think perhaps more than anything else you and I need to-day 
to orient ourselves. We need to relate ourselves to the time of 
which we are a part. It is a little strange, is it not, how men's ideas 
will change as the years go on, about what constitutes great achieve- 
ments, about what constitutes wonderful work on the part of man ; 
it is a little strange, is it not, that men's ideas will change in a mar- 
velous sort of fashion as to what constitutes wonderful epochs and 
periods in the life of humanity; but it is infinitely more strange, is 
it not, that men's ideas of the type of men and women needed in 
critical times never has changed and never can change? Some of 
you who are older may remember that when you went to school when 
the school directors came or your friends came, if you were a little 
bright you were brought out on the front seat in order that you 
might make a show of the education you were receiving, and that 



Founder's Day Address 3 

about the very first thing you would be asked to do would be to 
name and describe the seven wonders of the world. Now, I think 
some of those here who are gray-headed, who have been twenty-five 
or thirty or forty or more years out of school work, would perhaps 
be able to name the seven wonders of the world. Of course they 
all know what they are : The Pyramids of Egypt, Pharos of Alex- 
andria, Walls and Hanging Gardens of Babylon, Temple of Diana 
at Ephesus, the Statue of the Olympian Jupiter, Mausoleum of Arte- 
misia, and Colossus of Rhodes. I am not going to do more than 
name them for you, but as children we had to describe them; they 
were believed to be the most marvelous works of man. They were 
talked about and had been talked about century after century as 
standing for the highest possible achievement on the part of man. 
I have heard in the last twenty years distinguished lecturers who 
tried to prove that we were a decadent race, since through all the 
ages such constructions as the Pyramids and the Temple of Diana 
had never been equaled. 

But I want you to think of this, whether there are not in this 
great world more wonderful monuments to the courage of man, the 
unselfishness and devotion of man? Did ever any one of these open 
up a new highway for humanity? Did ever one of them stand for 
a symbol which led millions and millions of people through suc- 
cessive generations into a higher and finer life? Are all of these 
so-called wonders of the world anything more or less than monu- 
ments of man's greed and selfishness, of his desire to show to the 
world his greatness and power? 

Then stop to think of this wonderful year — this year 1918, of 
which you are a breathing and pulsing part, begin to think of the 
material achievements of this year, and you will see that these 
so-called seven wonders of the world were children's playthings — 
things to be cast away broken. If you cast your eyes over the 
European heavens you will find that they are absolutely black with 
great machines, heavier than the air, traveling at a marvelous speed 
of sixty, seventy, even one hundred and fifty miles an hour. Now 
that wonderful discovery is, of course, being devoted to the work of 
destruction, but we have discovered a pathway in the air, and by 
and by when the world comes back to sanity and peace, when it 



4 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

comes back to brotherhood, we will use these highways in trans- 
portation and commerce. There is no wonder of the ancient world 
that begins to compare with that. We thought we had conquered 
the sea when we sent our great steam liners flying over the ocean 
in a constantly shortening time, eleven days, seven days, five days ; 
and then as if that subjugation were not enough, we began to send 
our vessels under the waves, with a constantly increasing radius of 
activity until now it is bounded only by the limits of the ocean itself. 
And while as is the case of the aeroplane, these underwater ways 
are now used for destruction, yet we have broken new highways 
under the waves, and by and by, when we find ourselves again, when 
we come back to our Godlikeness in some faint degree, these things 
will be used in the arts of peace. We have invented cannon that will 
throw their projectiles, a ton in weight, for twenty miles or more; 
we have explosives against which practically nothing will stand. 
We do not think much of such inventions until there is a disaster 
like that at Halifax a few weeks ago, and then we begin to realize 
what wonderful forces men are letting loose upon the earth. By 
and by these wonderful forces, instead of being used for destruction, 
will be used for the advancement of civilization, for giving people a 
more and more abundant life. Then we have the wonderful wire- 
less — indeed, there never was a time in the history of the world when 
there were such wonderful material achievements. 

But have you learned the lesson of the past? Have you caught 
the idea that living in such a time no ordinary life achievements will 
count ; that in a great time achievements must be great and in a great 
age life must be great. The trouble is that living in this marvelous 
year, living in this wonderful time, many of us have failed to catch 
the notion that we must fit ourselves to do wonderful things. 

In about 1666 — I am not so sure of that year, history is not my 
long suit, if that is a proper phrase to use on this platform — but in 
1666 there occurred the great fire of London, and in that fire some- 
thing over one-half of that great city, which was then as now the 
largest city of the world, was destroyed. Thousands of buildings 
were burned and tens of thousands of people were rendered home- 
less. In that same year there sailed out from the mouth of the 
Thames a few wooden vessels which constituted the fleet of England 



Founder's Day Address 5 

at that time. They sailed across to Holland and wrested from her 
the title of "Mistress of the Seas." And these two events, the fire 
of London and the victory of the English fleet over the Dutch fleet, 
loomed so large in the minds of men everywhere that ever since that 
time it has been called the Wonderful Year. Go home and look it up 
in your encyclopaedias and under "Wonderful Year" you will find 
that the year 1666 was so called because in that year occurred the 
great London fire and a notable victory of the English fleet. It was 
regarded as so marvelous that Dryden wrote a poem with that title, 
and possibly some of you have read it, or parsed it, or scanned it, 
or have done something with it — anything except appreciate it. Now, 
turn again to this year in which we are living; turn again to this 
year of 1918, and contrast the things that are occurring in the world 
with the events of the so-called Wonderful Year. Have you ever 
stopped to think that this war has involved over one-half of the na- 
tions of the world, and that the nations of the world which are 
directly involved in the v/ar dominate much more than one-half of 
the area of the earth, and that in their populations are included con- 
siderably over one-half of the people of the whole earth? Have you 
ever stopped to think that over forty millions of men have been 
called to the colors, and that over seven millions of them are already 
dead? Have you ever stopped to think that in this war, not only has 
there been great suffering, but that more than in any other war, 
orphans and widows and the aged have been allowed to starve to 
death, not by the hundreds or the thousands but by the millions — in 
the north of France, and Belgium, and Roumania, and Poland. And 
you are a part of that year. 

Not only is it a tremendous war in the numbers involved, but in 
the way in which it has been fought. Never has a war been fought 
in the same way. Death from shells, from explosives, from gas, — 
death from the air, from beneath the sea, — everywhere; and you 
are a part of that. Never was there a war waged that involved so 
much of the future of humanity. There have been great crises in 
the world's history, and great wars, but never a world war before. 
There have been local issues and national issues, but never before 
a world issue. Never a war in which the outcome meant so much 
to humanity. 



6 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

There never was a war that cost so much money. I am not going 
into this in detail, but we are talking in terms that we once thought 
beyond comprehension. Last year you know Congress appropriated 
twenty-one billions of dollars for the conduct of the war, and "a 
billion" rolled off our tongues very glibly. Do you know what a 
billion dollars is ? Some of you are thrifty and some of you are not. 
Some of you have a gift for saving money. Suppose you were able 
to save above all of your expenses a hundred thousand dollars a 
year. That would be a pretty good saving. Well, it would take you 
ten thousand years to save a billion dollars. A billion dollars is a 
good deal. If you had happened to have been born when Christ 
was born and had happened to have had somebody put a dollar away 
for you that minute, and the next minute another dollar, and the 
next minute another, and that had been kept up until this present 
year, then you would have one billion dollars. We appropriated 
twenty-one billion dollars. It costs about one hundred and eighty 
million dollars a day at present to stage this great world tragedy. 

It is great not only in the amount of money expended, but it is 
great also in its tremendous draft upon our hearts and sympathy. 
We have had our subscriptions for the French orphans, for the Bel- 
gian orphans ; we have had our Red Cross drive ; we have had our 
Y. M. C. A. drive and our Y. W. C. A. drive, and, thank God, we 
are going to have more of them. It is the only way in which those 
of us who are handicapped by age, or sex, or by a streak of yellow, 
can serve. It is practically all that is left open for us, and that is 
worth something; this, too, is part of the year to which you belong. 
And when you begin to think of all of the events of this year, great 
as they are, great in possibility, infinitely great in their significance, 
when you take together all the sorrows, all the groans, all the long- 
ings of a suffering humanity — that is the world of which you are a 
part. How does it compare with 1666, the so-called Wonderful 
Year? 

Now, the type of men and women that are needed in critical times 
has never changed and never can change. When we read the ac- 
count of a group of wonderful young men back in the history of 
the world — you will find this in a book that many do not use as much 
as they ought to — the Bible — you will find this description of these 



Founder's Day'. Address 7 

men who achieved mightily : "Their faces were set as a flint towards 
Zion." That is, they were men who were actuated by high ideals, 
men who had oriented themselves, who had adapted themselves to 
the situation, men who saw the Master's work and set their faces as 
a flint to its accomplishment. When we come to times like these, 
that is the type of man the world demands. 

Now, then, what is the moral of all this I have said? The moral 
is this that the intensity of your life and the quality of your life are 
going to be measured by the way in which you react to the stimuli 
that come to you from this wonderful year. The stimuli that come 
bearing in on you from all this wonderful achievement and inven- 
tion, from the conquest of material forces, that come to you from 
the trenches and battlefields of Europe, that come to you from the 
suffering and sorrows of the widows and orphans, from the groans 
of the wounded soldiers, these are the stimuli that are pouring in 
upon you. How are you reacting to them? I was going up to Ft. 
Wayne not long ago and as I sat in the car a man came and sat down 
beside me and began to talk. I am a fairly good listener — although 
you have no evidence of that — but really I am a pretty good listener. 
This man began to talk to me about the Y. M. C. A. drive, the liberty 
loan drive, the thrift stamps, the income tax, the price of corn — -he 
talked to me for forty miles, he touched on practically everything 
that is going on in this country at this time and finally said, "But I 
have one way of settling the whole matter. I simply ask myself what 
is there in it for you, old man ?" That is one reaction to the stimuli 
of this wonderful year, that is one type of reaction, — what is there 
in it for me ? 

Last summer I happened to be trying to rest for a little while up 
at my mountain home, and I went over the shoulder of Mt. Adams 
one day with a fine young fellow who is a graduate of Yale, of the 
Harvard Law School, who was junior partner in a great law firm 
in New York, with practically everything open before him because 
he had intellect, he had place, he had wealth ; but the call came and 
the young man left all this and entered the service, and three days 
after I talked with him on Mt. Adams he was to sail for France. 
As I sat there and talked with him he said, "Do you know, we men 
who are going across know better what we are up against than you 



8 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

people left at home. We have been told what the dangers are and 
the trials and sufferings and all that, but we believe it is worth while, 
for we have worked it out in this way — that it does not make very- 
much difference how long a man lives, what really counts is what he 
does when he is alive." That is another reaction. How are you 
reacting? This is a wonderful age, wonderful in achievement and 
in event. It ought to be, in God's name, the most wonderful year 
in the life of every one of us. Wonderful in achievement and won- 
derful in event, and the hopefulness of the situation lies in the fact 
that I believe more and more we are reacting as we ought to this 
wonderful series of events and achievements. That service flag 
shows, with many others like it, the response that the Indiana col- 
lege men are making, and that flag shows also our inheritance from 
those men and women who suff'ered and labored to make such insti- 
tutions possible — men and women quick to react in a wonderful and 
effectual way when the time comes. For we must remember that 
adjustment to the times is life and that failure in adjustment is 
death. 

How can you become sure that you are reacting properly? I am 
beginning to believe this — that every time I talk to young men and 
young women in universities I am finding their vision is getting a 
little bit broader, that they are looking outside of the spot in which 
they live ; that they have some thought beyond the fraternity of 
which they happen to be members ; that they are beginning to believe 
there are some things outside of the university walls; that they are 
thinking a little bit about the state in which they live, and that there 
has come into their hearts a series of stimuli from far across the 
ocean — that their vision is widening, so that, instead of seeing merely 
the little university world and all the ephemeral life of the university, 
they are seeing the great world with its sorrows and sufferings, its 
longings and cries for help. Have you waked in the morning feeling 
in some way or other an unaccountable depression, and wondered 
what it was, and then suddenly realized that it was this awful war? 
Your vision is expanding. If your vision is centered upon yourself, 
if it is centered upon the little things connected with self, you are 
living in a small universe ; but when your eyes and heart are cen- 
tered upon the world and upon the needs of humanity, then you are 



Founder's Day Address 9 

living in God's universe, and you are coming in some sort of fashion 
into the God likeness ; and because your vision has been broadened, 
because you no longer think in terms of streets and towns, of college 
and fraternity, of state, but think in terms of humanity, you are 
bigger and you are better and you are truer men and women than 
you have been in the past, or than you would have been unless this 
broad vision had come to you. 

I think there is another thing that is absolutely true, and that is 
that a good many of us are changing our values, or our notions of 
values. We have measures of men's achievements, we have meas- 
ures of men's character, that might have passed in the piping times 
of peace, when everything was prosperous, but we find now that 
these will not answer ; we find that many things that we have slighted 
are, after all, the eternal verities, the foundations of effective life. 
We had a sort of idea in those days of incalculable prosperity that 
we have had for the last twenty-five or thirty years in this country, 
that achievement, that success, that accumulation, measured a man 
and constituted true values. But now we are coming to a time when 
we see that that is far from true. Did you ever stop to think that 
the most wonderful group of men this sun has ever shone, upon is 
the five hundred thousand men of our selective army? Have you 
ever been to any of these camps, have you ever seen these splendid 
young fellows swing by, strong muscles, clear eyes, clean skin, men 
every inch of them? — your sons, that's who they are. But do you 
know that to get these five hundred thousand men, we had to exam- 
ine twelve hundred thousand men, and that seven hundred thousand 
of them were unfit? We begin to realize that the moralities of life 
and the cleannesses of life are, after all, the only eternal verities 
the only foundation stones. We are catching new values, success, 
accumulation, position — these are slight things in critical times like 
these. Absolute fitness is the demand of to-day. And there are 
many young men in college and many young women in college who 
are changing their values along these lines, and because they are 
changing them they are determining conduct. Let me tell you that 
the colleges of this land never had a year in their whole career where 
discipline entered so little into the consumption of time. Why? 
We are getting new values, and that is a sign of hope. We are 
orienting ourselves to a time like this. 



10 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

And then we are coming, I think, to another new measure as to 
the purpose and significance of human Hfe. I presume that, ten 
years ago, if I had been asked to name the most prominent man in 
our community, I would have thought of perhaps a half-dozen peo- 
ple, and I would have said that these were men who had accumulated 
much wealth and that they really represented the highest type of our 
citizenship. If some doubting Thomas had been there I might have 
gone further and said, "Just think of it — this man came into this 
community with absolutely nothing except his energy and industry, — 
and he has worked and achieved and worked and achieved and has 
accumulated wealth and has given it freely for the benefit of the 
community," That was the type of man we praised in those days. 
But now we are beginning to realize that work is not the measure of 
a man. We are catching the notion to-day that the only thing that 
measures a man in a time like this is service. If the man who is a 
man of wealth is also a man of service, well and good, but do you 
know there is a wonderful difference, just a wonderful difference, 
between work and service ? In work the results of your efforts bear 
in upon yourself; in service, what you have accumulated is poured 
out in unstinted measure for others. That is the difference between 
work and service. It has been a long time in getting into the minds 
of men, especially of young men, but when the Master himself came 
He said that He came not to be ministered unto, but to minister. 
He also said that he who would be greatest must be the servant of 
all, and in this wonderful age to which we are trying to adjust our- 
selves in some effective way, the lesson which we are learning is 
that life cannot be measured by work, by accumulation. It can only 
be measured by service. That service will not count if it is service 
that does not hurt; but service will go on and on into sacrifice and 
suffering. Do you know, young people, that about the chief task 
before us this year is the task of keeping our souls unashamed. We 
are living in a time v/hen young men and women cannot conceal 
their souls. All convention and formality will be stripped away, 
and our souls will stand out luminous in the day. And it will be 
splendid and glorious if you have reacted properly to your time, if 
you have caught the measure of manhood through service; but it 
will be ineffably mean and little if it shows selfishness and greed 



Founder's Day Address 11 

and self-seeking. The choice is yours, but you cannot conceal your 
soul. Some day I hope the battle will be won, and that splendid 
army of ours that is now in France will come back. You and I will 
perhaps see them marching down our streets with their strong, vig- 
orous stride, no longer boys but men. And when they come swing- 
ing down the street, I want to look them squarely in the eye and 
say, "Boys, I too have served, I have sacrificed and suffered." I 
do not want to say, "I lived here and you fought for me ; but I said 
the war is three thousand miles away, and so I ate fudge and went 
to movies and did as I pleased." You are not living in an age that 
permits selfishness. 

I have sometimes wondered when we first went into the war why 
it was that so many people believed that the war was already settled. 
We have been a self-seeking and undisciplined people because we 
were living in plenty and in comfort. But I want to tell you that 
a fudge-eating, movie-surfeited people are not the kind that win 
wars. It is the people who by service and discipline, by sacrifices 
repeated day after day until they have hardened and can stand and 
fight, these are the people who win wars. And it is only as you and 
I have reacted to this wonderful year and put ourselves into train- 
ing, as we subject ourselves to stern disciplines and acquire hard- 
ness that can resist and attack, that the war will be ended. How 
are you going to serve? In a thousand v/ays. How are you going 
to enlist? In a thousand ways. You have your opportunities, and 
when the opportunity comes to you, you respond. Do you know 
that right now there are only two classes of people in the coun- 
try — those who are helping to win this war and those who help the 
enemy — patriots and traitors. In time of war there can be no other 
classification. Those who are helping to win the war are in two 
parts. One part is represented by the troops who are in the camps, 
who are on the ocean, or beneath its bed, who are in the trenches 
over in France — and the other part of the army is the ninety-eight 
millions of us left behind. Do you know, my friends, that loyalty 
to duty and devotion to service is no less imperative upon us than 
upon those boys who went when the government called them to 
service? I had some work to do with the liberty bonds, and with 
the Y. M. C. A., and with the Red Cross. I came to one person 



12 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

after another who said, "I am getting tired of this ; when is this 
going to end?" I said, "Oh, Lord, how long, how long?" Living 
in an age like this and not adjusted ! What about those boys of ours 
in the camps over in France these cold, chilly nights, knowing that 
in the morning, just at the break of day, the summons will come that 
will send them over the top into No-Man's Land. As they sit there 
waiting for their summons, what are they thinking about ? I imagine 
they are thinking of many things, but they are certainly thinking 
this, they are wondering whether those of us they have left behind 
are making sacrifices that are worthy to be spoken of in the same 
century with the sacrifices they have made. Suppose the call would 
come to go over the top and one of the boys said, "Well, I went over 
last week, and it is not my turn — I am just getting tired of this. I 
am going to quit going over the top and let the other fellows do it." 
How have you reacted? Have you done anything of that kind? 
This is not the time to talk about whether the war might be avoided. 
If my house is on fire I am only asking how it can be put out. I do 
not discuss whether fire is profitable or desirable, whether it might 
be avoided— the only thing in which I am interested is how to put 
it out. We are not ready at this time to study the causes of the 
war, the possibility of having avoided it. We are in it and it will 
be won and won right if we can adjust ourselves to this wonderful 
year, and do our part in achievement and in sacrifice. 

I come to you then with this message — that the men who founded 
this college, that the men and women who gave of their efforts and 
prayers and means, who worked through doubt and difficulty, 
worked with the vision of men and women who would be fit for 
such a crisis as this. Are you ? Founder's Day calls you in no mis- 
taken tone. It is a clarion call both to vision and sacrifice. Are you 
big enough for the age of which you are a part? This thing will 
not be done separately. It will be done because each one of us who 
happens to be here to-day does his part day by day until God in His 
own good time brings peace again; but if I do not, if you do not, 
and somebody else does not do his part, then this long agony will 
be prolonged until perhaps the world is exhausted. No, it must 
be unity and it must be with recognition of the fact that in an age 
such as this, one wonderful beyond all ages, lives must be wonderful 



Founder's Day Address 13 

beyond all past lives ; sacrifices must be greater than in the past. 
I do not know what this year has in store for you, I do not know 
what it has in store for me, but I do know this, that I will be called 
to serve as never before, and I will be called to give as never before, 
and I will be called to sacrifice as never before, and I pray that God 
will give me strength to serve and to sacrifice. 

Hark ! I hear the tramp of thousands, 

And of armed men the hum ; 
Lo ! a nation's hosts have gathered 
Round the quick alarming drum- 
Saying, "Come, 
Freemen, Come ! 
Ere your heritage be wasted," said the quick 
alarming drum. 

Let me of my heart take counsel ; 

War is not of life the sum ; 
Who shall stay and reap the harvest 
When the autumn days shall come? 
But the drum 
Echoed, "Come ! 
Death shall reap the braver harvest," said the 
solemn sounding drum. 

Thus they answered — hoping, fearing. 
Some in faith, and doubting some. 
Till a trumpet voice proclaiming. 
Said, "My chosen people, come !" 
Then the drum, 
Lo ! was dumb. 
For the great heart of the nation, throbbing, 
answered, "Lord, we come !" 

And so to you reaping the labors of far-seeing, brave lives of the 
past, comes the call. Have you heard it? It matters not how black 
things may be, it matters not what discouragements may come to us, 
if M^e will be but courageous, if we will but fight on we can say: 



14 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Out of the night that covers me, 

Black as the pit from pole to pole, 

I thank whatever gods may be 
For my unconquerable soul. 

It matters not how straight the gate, 

How charged with punishment the scroll, 

I am the master of my fate, 
I am the captain of my soul. 

And Butler College was founded that you might be masters of fate 
and captains of your souls. 



The Power of the Dead 

By Maurice Maeterlinck 

[This article appeared in Le Figaro, All Souls' Day, 1916. The version 
in English has been made by Miss Ethel M. Damon, of Honolulu.] 

In a little book which is a sort of strange masterpiece, "The En- 
chanted Town," an English novelist, Mrs. Oliphant, shows us the 
dead of a rural town who, suddenly, indignant at the behavior and 
customs of those who live in the city which they themselves founded, 
revolt, invade the houses, the streets, and the public squares, and, 
under the pressure of their vast numbers, all-powerful though in- 
visible, force back the living, thrust the inhabitants out of the gates, 
and, setting a strong watch, refuse them entrance within their walls 
until after a treaty of peace and repentance has purified their hearts, 
made amends for their offenses, and assured a more worthy future. 

Without any doubt there is under this fiction, pushed apparently 
too far because we see only the material and ephemeral realities, a 
great truth. The dead live and move among us much more truly and 
with more effect than the most venturesome imagination could well 
picture. It is doubtful whether they stay in their tombs. It appears 
even more and more certain that they never let themselves be shut 
in there. Under the stones where we think them imprisoned there 



The Power of the Dead 15 

are only a few ashes which no longer belong to them, which they 
have abandoned without regret and which, probably, they no longer 
deign to remember. All that they were lives among us. Under what 
form, in what way? After thousands, perhaps millions of years, 
we still do not know, and no religion has been able to tell us with 
satisfying certainty, though every religion has done its utmost ; but 
we can, according to definite indications, hope to learn. 

Without considering further a potent but confused truth which 
for the moment it is impossible to define or render comprehensible, 
let us confine ourselves to what is unquestioned. As I have said 
elsewhere, whatever be our religious faith, there is a place where our 
dead cannot perish, where they continue to exist as actually and 
sometimes more actively than when they were in the flesh; it is 
within us that is found this holy place which for those whom we 
have lost becomes heaven or hell according as we come to a better 
understanding or as we separate ourselves from their thoughts and 
their desires. 

And their thoughts and their desires are always higher than ours. 
In raising ourselves, then, we shall approach them. We must take 
the first steps ; they can no longer come down, though for us it is 
always possible to mount ; for the dead, whatever they may have 
been in their lifetime, become better than the best among us. The 
worst, in sloughing off their body, have shed its vices, its little- 
nesses, its weaknesses which soon leave likewise our memory of 
them; and the spirit alone lives, which is pure in every man and 
can desire nothing but good. There are no evil dead because there 
are no evil souls. That is the reason that, according as we purify 
ourselves we give back life to those who are no longer alive and 
transform into heaven our memory which they inhabit. 

And that which has always been true of all the dead is increas- 
ingly so to-day when only the best are chosen for death. In the 
region which we fancy to be under the earth, which we call the 
kingdom of shades and which is in reality the ethereal region and 
the kingdom of light, there are at this moment disturbances as 
profound as those which we are experiencing on the surface of our 
earth. The young dead are surging into it from all directions ; and 
never since the beginning of the world have they been so numerous, 



16 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

so full of strength and ardor. While in the usual course of life the 
dwelling-place of those who leave us gathers in only weary and ex- 
hausted lives, there is not a single one in this matchless company 
who, to take up again the expression of Pericles, "has not gone out 
of life at the height of glory." There is not a single one who, hav- 
ing reached up toward, rather than gone down to, death, is not com- 
pletely clothed in the greatest sacrifice that man can make for an 
idea which cannot die. It would be necessary that everything 
which we have believed up to this day, everything which we have 
tried to attain there ourselves, everything which has elevated us to 
the point where we are, everything which has overcome the evil 
days and evil instincts of human nature, that all this should be 
nothing more than illusions and lies, if such men, if such an accu- 
mulation of worth and glory, had really been annihilated, had for- 
ever disappeared, were forever useless and voiceless, forever in- 
active in a world to which they had given life. 

It is hardly possible that it can be thus from the point of view of 
the external survival of the dead; but it is absolutely certain that 
it is otherwise so from the point of view of their survival in our- 
selves. Here nothing is lost and nothing perishes. Our memories 
to-day are peopled with a multitude of heroes struck down in the 
flower of life and quite different from the pale languid troop but 
recently there, almost exclusively made up of sick and old who had 
already ceased to exist before leaving the earth. We must say to 
ourselves that now, in every one of our homes, in our cities as in 
our villages, in the palace as in the darkest hovel, there lives and 
reigns a young spirit-dead in the radiance of his strength. He fills 
the poorest, the blackest dwelling with a glory which it would never 
have dared dream. His constant presence, imperious and inevit- 
able, is diffused there and maintains there a religion and thoughts 
which formerly were not known there, hallows everj^thing which 
surrounds it, forces the eyes to look up and the spirit no longer to 
descend again, purifies the air which is breathed there, the dis- 
course which is held there, and the thoughts which there gather 
themselves together ; and more and more as never before in so vast 
proportion, it dignifies, it ennobles, it liberates a whole people. 

Such dead have an influence as profound, as fruitful, and less 



The Clandestine Press of Belgium 17 

precarious than life. It is terrible that this experience has been 
undergone, for it is the most pitiless, and in such enormous num- 
bers the first that humanity has suffered ; but now that the trial is 
almost passed we shall soon welcome from it the most unlooked-for 
results. Very shortly we shall see the increasing of differences and 
the divergence of destinies between the nations who have gained all 
these dead and all this glory and those who were deprived of them, 
and it will be proven with astonishment that those who have lost 
the most are those who have kept their riches and their men. 
There are losses which are inestimable gains and gains in which the 
future is lost. There are dead whom the living would not know 
how to replace and the thought of whom does things which bodies 
alone cannot accomplish. There are dead who spring beyond death 
and find life again; and we are almost all of us at this hour the 
agents of a being more great, more noble, more important, more 
wise and more alive than are we ourselves. With all those who 
accompany him, he will be our judge, if it is true that the dead 
weigh the soul of the living and that on their judgment depends our 
happiness. He will be our guide and our protector: for this is the 
first time since history has revealed to us its calamities that man- 
kind has felt hovering above its head and speaking in its heart such 
a multitude of such dead. 



The Clandestine Press of Belgium 

By James Garfield Randall, '03 

The universal sympathy of the civilized world for striken Belgium 
is compounded of two elements. One of these is horror at the faith- 
lessness and savagery of the invader, and the other is a genuine fond- 
ness for a nation so full of pluck, so even in temper, and of such 
irrepressible national spirit. Belgian patriotism is unquenchable. 
Every effort of the occupying foe to suppress patriotic feeling — such 
as the forced striking of the flag, heavy fines for wearing the na- 
tional colors or singing the national hymn, learned attempts to prove 
the racial identity of Belgian and Teuton, and the rigid prohibition 



18 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

of all patriotic celebrations — has only reinforced the determination 
of the Belgians to preserve their national integrity and resist every 
Germanizing influence. 

Among the many obstacles in the way of a preservation of love of 
cotmtry is a systematic and complete stifling of the Belgian press. 
The invader has so entirely smothered independent journalism within 
the country that the people, in their efforts to resist intellectual 
strangulation, have built up a vigorous underground press which is 
one of the real wonders of this war. 

One of the first effects of the German invasion was to shut ofif 
the Belgian people from the thought of the outside world. All exist- 
ing Belgian journals were at once suppressed, and if they reappeared 
it was only after they agreed to submit to a drastic and humiliating 
German censorship. German newspapers poured into the country, 
and one or two Germanophil sheets from Holland were admitted, 
but foreign papers from the Allied countries were rigidly excluded. 
Furthermore, the circulation of certain previously printed editions 
was forbidden. For instance, no one was allowed to secure a cer- 
tain number of 1914 Illustre published before the Germans came, 
and containing portraits of King Albert, Poincare, George V, and 
other Allied leaders. A special German sheet, the Illustrierte Kriegs 
Kurier, a propaganda organ published in German, Flemish, and 
French, with pictures of the war from the German standpoint, was 
everywhere available. Two German news agencies were soon put 
into operation in Belgium, — the Courier Beige and L' Hollando- 
Belge. 

The Germans soon realized, however, that they themselves would 
suffer inconvenience from the lack of a Belgian press. So they pro- 
ceeded to create one. By using unscrupulous Belgians and by com- 
pelling some editors to continue publishing under their censorship, 
they soon had a series of so-called Belgian papers in operation, 
whose every word was censored or inspired by the occupying author- 
ities. Most of the editors indignantly refused to surrender their 
independence by submitting to the intolerable German censorship, 
and either discontinued their sheets or moved them to some foreign 
city such as London or Paris. In some cases editors were fined or 
imprisoned for refusing to publish their papers. L' Ami de V Ordre 



The Clandestine Press of Belgium 19 

was forced to appear under German control, and its editors were 
obliged to publish articles which they knew to be mere inventions. 

A preventive and punitive military censorship of the severest sort 
was imposed upon these pretended Belgian journals. Every line had 
to be submitted before publication to the censor, and instead of 
leaving blank spaces in place of deleted passages, the editors were 
forced to fill the columns with continuous matter, being supplied 
with a special typewritten journal from which articles of various 
lengths could be selected for the purpose. The German authorities 
did not live up to their original agreement in this respect, which was 
that articles should not be mutilated but merely stricken out, and 
that the blank spaces might be left. None of the Allied com- 
muniques were published at first in these pseudo-Belgian sheets, and 
later only occasional passages were presented. One of the papers, 
Le Bruxellois, went so far as to explain that French communiques 
were rarely issued and consisted of only a few lines. 

The impossibility of finding the truth in the denatured journals 
which have passed the censorship is cleverly suggested in one of 
the many jokes which the Belgians like to publish at the expense 
of their enemies. A German, killed in battle, went up to the gates 
of heaven. "Who are you?" asked St. Peter. "I am the soul of a 
German soldier," was the answer. "Impossible," replied St. Peter, 
"I have carefully read the censored newspapers of Belgium all these 
months, and they haven't yet announced the death of a single Ger- 
man soldier." 

A few examples will suffice to show the extent to which German 
official falsification has been carried. A series of pamphlets was 
circulated which purported to give the history of the war. In the 
report of the famous interview between Goschen and Bethmann- 
HoUweg the Chancellor's reference to a "scrap of paper" — the most 
significant thing in the interview — was left out, and Goschen's ref- 
erence to England's vital interest in the neutrality of Belgium was 
also suppressed. An article of calumny against certain notables of 
Anvers was represented as having been copied from Tijd. It was 
never pubHshed in that Dutch journal nor in any other, but was 
wholly false and was based on a bogus copy which was the work of 
Germans. Two sets of what purported to be the same edition of 



20 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

the General Anzeiger of Diisseldorf were prepared with identical 
date and serial numbering, but one was intended for circulation in 
occupied Russia and the other in Belgium, the news matter varying 
according to the audience. Photographs taken in Brussels did serv- 
ice as illustrations of the "entry into Antwerp," and certain touch- 
ing scenes showing "soldiers of the German Landsturm sharing their 
bread with French children" were wholly faked. Himdreds of such 
instances could be cited. 

The part to be played by Belgian editors was carefully cut out for 
them by the Germans. To quote La Verite, a daring secret journal, 
they were "to publish what the Prussian censor pleased and omit 
what he pleased; not to rejoice at Allied success, but to insist on the 
pretended success of the enemy's troops; to insert articles inspired 
by Prussian bureaus and reproduce Allied bulletins thrice-sifted in 
Berlin; not to denounce the massacres of Vise, Dolhain, Liege, 
Aerschot, Diest, Dinant, etc., but to wax indignant at the petty 
abuses of the Belgians ; to praise the enemy's organizations and 
remain mute regarding his exactions." It is to be said to the honor 
of the Belgian editors that they refused to accept such a role. 

All news issuing from Belgium has been controlled with as great 
a strictness as the news which enters. Writers from the outside 
find it impossible to get any privileges unless they are willing to 
write, at German dictation, of the "normal" conditions that prevail, 
of the beneficent effects of the German control, of the horrors of 
the native "francs-tireurs," and of the "falsification" of accounts 
regarding German atrocities. For the supplying of news to enemy 
and neutral countries the Germans early created the "Presse Cen- 
tral," under whose minute scrutiny all foreign correspondents had 
to work and through whose hands every word of news from Bel- 
gium had to pass. This bureau served as a publicity committee for 
all the governmental departments and as a censoring board for all 
printed matter originating in the country. The truth is, of course, 
smuggled out of Belgium in the long run, but it takes great inge- 
nuity to accomplish this. 

There is nothing in this war more appealing than the attempts of 
the Belgians to free themselves from this intolerable situation. 
Their secret methods of news propagation have admirably mani- 



The Clandestine Press of Belgium 21 

fested their alertness, their sense of humor, and their unquenchable 
patriotism. In the early days of the occupation the Belgians man- 
aged to secure Belgian papers from those cities that had not been 
invaded. Later, French and English papers, and genuine Belgian 
journals which had moved to foreign soil, such as L' Independence 
Beige, printed in London, were smuggled in, and significant pas- 
sages were copied on typewritten sheets which circulated along 
underground routes. Each of these secret typewritten journals had 
its special subscription list and there were fifteen of them in Brus- 
sels alone. In certain establishments it was possible to secure the 
use of an Allied newspaper for ten minutes for one or two francs. 

As the sale and distribution of all news not expressly authorized 
by the German censorship was strictly forbidden, and as these for- 
eign journals were particularly under the ban, those who used them 
were constantly in danger of incurring heavy penalties. A young 
girl was given two months imprisonment for buying foreign news- 
papers and copying articles hostile to Germany. Court-martial 
trial, imprisonment up to five years, and fines up to 3,000 marks 
were enforced for selling or distributing prohibited papers. Peo- 
ple were searched and houses were ransacked in order to locate 
these contraband sheets, and, in keeping with German psychology, 
the penalties were steadily increased on the theory that a sufficient 
application of force would break down even Belgian spirit. 

It was not long before uncensored papers, printed in Belgium 
itself, began to appear.* Of these clandestine journals the most 
vigorous and defiant is La Libre Belgique. No one knows where it 
is printed. Its habitat is fantastically referred to as "une cave auto- 
mobile" — which might perhaps be translated as a migatory cellar or 
a cellar on wheels — and its telegraph address is ironically given as 
"The Governorship, Brussels." The price is indefinite, varying 
"from zero to infinity," and there is no regular time of issue, but 
an average of three or four editions a month has been maintained. 
Not even the carriers know where the paper is published. All each 
carrier knows is the particular step in the ladder of distribution for 

*A fascinating volume by Jean Massart, La Presse Clandestine dans la Belgique Occupee, 
published in Paris, should be made familiar to the reading public of America. The -writer 
wishes to ackno-wledge his indebtedness to the author, whose first-hand observatons in Bel- 
gium have enabled him to present a story of absorbing interest. 



22 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

which he is responsible. If, therefore, the police capture a carrier 
with these verboten papers in his hands, they may visit the direst 
penalties upon him, but the printing and distribution of the paper 
goes on just the same. When a contribution is submitted to the 
editors, it takes ten or twelve days for the message to travel from 
one intermediary to another until it finally reaches the managing 
ofifice. 

With a charming audacity, the managers take particular pains to 
extend the privileges of their paper to the Governor-general, who 
always finds two copies on his desk whenever a new number is is- 
sued. One of the numbers prominently pictured his Excellency the 
Baron von Bissing with his "favorite paper" in his hands. The ac- 
com.panying note explained that "the dear Governor-general, weary 
of reading falsehoods in the censored papers, was seeking the truth 
in La Libre Belgique." 

The German authorities, in their rage at the defiance of this 
plucky little newspaper operating under their very noses, have 
made the most savage and elaborate efforts to hunt down the of- 
fenders. To handle the paper or even to have it in possession is 
made a serious offense, and a huge reward — originally 25,000 francs 
but later raised to 75,000 — has been offered for information leading 
to the apprehension of the editors and proprietors. Anonymous or 
fictitiously signed letters have poured in upon the governor, giving 
in the most precise fashion the exact location of the paper, and 
specifying all the turns and twists which searchers must make in 
order to discover the secret office. Acting upon this information, 
the police arrive at a house in great secrecy and after laboriously 
following the complicated directions discover that they have been 
made the victims of a practical joke. In one case the German 
searchers, fulfilling the instructions of an anonymous letter, were 
about to arrest a statue of Andreas Vesalius, the anatomist, before 
they discovered their mistake. 

One of the issues contains a long communication by the editors 
addressed to the honorable Governor-general impressing upon him 
the futility of this clumsy campaign against La Libre Belgique. He 
only wastes his time and money, they tell him, in bringing special 
brigades of detectives from Berlin and in starting his police out to 



The Clandestine Press of Belgium 23 

chase false scents. Regularly the paper appears after each of his 
expeditions. The benefits of his seizures and confiscations do not 
pay for the trouble and the ridicule of failure. The more he per- 
sists, the more their propaganda extends. The movable office of 
publication is capable of sliding from place to place with an ease 
which his Excellency would not suspect. The paper is pledged to 
continue as long as the German press by its lies and omissions seeks 
to sap the patriotism of the people, to weaken their resistance, to 
smirch their characters, and to spread discord and despair among 
their ranks, and in Belgium a pledge is a sacred engagement. As 
for killing La Litre Belgique, the thing is impossible. It is not to 
be grasped, for it is nowhere. It is an ignis fatuus arising from the 
graves of Belgian compatriots massacred at Louvain, at Tamines, 
at Dinant. But it is also the will-o'-the-wisp that issues from the 
tombs of those German soldiers who v/ere slain at Liege, at Wael- 
hem, and on the Yser, and who now see for what miserable project 
of domination they were sacrificed to the Moloch of war under the 
pretext of defending their country. It is finally the voice of all the 
mothers, all the widows, and all the orphans whose cries cannot be 
hushed. As the days pass this voice will ever grow in volume and 
will reach to the very frontiers. 

The tone of the paper is delightful. It always keeps its serenity 
of temper, and its spirit is irrepressible. The Belgians enjoy it and 
all the copies are carefully treasured. The usual circulation is 
about 10,000, but the paper proved so popular that the first five 
numbers were reprinted three or four times after their original pub- 
lication. 

One of the most interesting features of La Libre Belgique is its 
monthly air supplement giving in Flemish and French the news of 
the war. It is published abroad and scattered in Belgium by avia- 
tors. In suppressing this sort of journalistic enterprise, there is 
very little that the authorities can do except injure or penalize the 
residents of districts in which air visits are made; so after a rain 
of air supplements was poured over the promenaders in some of the 
Brussels boulevards, the citizens were forced to remain indoors 
within prescribed hours without lights. The Germans have also 
discharged under the airplanes shrapnel shells which explode on 



24 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Hearing the ground, so that those whose curiosity draws them to the 
neighborhood are in serious danger of injury. 

Besides La Libre Belgique, there are various other clandestine 
newspapers which have enjoyed varying fortunes, such as La 
Verite, which pubHshed seven numbers in May and June, 1915, and 
Le Beige, which lasted from September to November, 1915. A 
secret Flemish paper, De Vlaamsche Leeuw, announced itself as 
procurable "everywhere and nowhere," and referred to its editorial 
office as located "at the Kommandant's in Brussels, facing the print- 
ing establishment of La Libre Belgique." 

It is always with a delightful sense of humor that these daring 
journals refer to their own vicissitudes. La Libre Belgique once 
apologized to its readers for close association with such traveling 
companions as calcium-carbide, strong cheese and red herring, and 
expressed regret that the papers lacked the perfume of the rose and 
the violet. On another occasion the editors apologized for the late 
appearance of their paper, explaining that this edition on meeting 
the enemy "plunged into the water to swim for life and was 
drowned." The edition had to be reprinted. The readers are cau- 
tioned to respect the anonymity of the editors, and to avoid a curi- 
osity which might become treason. 

In addition to newspapers there are various other underground 
publications which circulate among the Belgian people. One of 
these is a necrology of Dinant, giving over six hundred names of 
persons massacred in that town and shot without trial, and others 
contain testimony of eye-witnesses regarding horrors committed 
by the Germany army. Prohibited post-cards have been circulated 
giving pictures of ruined Belgian villages which have suffered 
heavily at the hands of the invader, of the Belgian king, of the be- 
loved Mercier, and of Miss Cavell. The most vexing to the Ger- 
mans are those which give portraits of their spies. 

In Germany there is much talk of national "morale," of "holding 
out," of a "will to victory" (which, being interpreted, means a will 
to conquest). In that nation every discouraging influence is care- 
fully avoided. The people are fed on official news and are shielded 
from all that might dishearten. How vastly different in Belgium! 
Am.ong this people no act is omitted that might serve to sap their 



Washington Homes for" Country's Use 25 

national spirit, to blunt the edge of their patriotism, or to blast their 
sense of independence. Coarseness daily offends their sensitive 
taste ; an enslaving f rightfulness attacks their passion for liberty ; 
and bribery insults their personal honor. Yet in the face of it all 
there is no letting down, no moral surrender, no loosening of the 
national determination. There is a quiet and dignified outward 
submission which seeks to avoid offense, while always there is the 
inner protest of a fine nature which refuses to be degraded. There 
is real heroism in this steadfast firmness of spirit, in this will to die 
rather than to lose one's soul. 



Historic Washington Homes Taken for Country s Use 

From the Committee on Public Information 

With the war's proclamation a year ago everything in Washing- 
ton changed. The quiet, orderly, peaceful, smiling town, with its 
government routine, its particular prides and prejudices, suddenly 
threw off its garment of provincial repose, and, donning the uni- 
form of militancy, Washington became the capital of a nation at 
war. 

Everything in Washington has been made subservient to the na- 
tion's cause. No more are the glowing vistas of tree-bordered 
avenues and of pillared porticoes admired in the light of the setting 
sun; no more does the homely cottage which threw its evening ra- 
diance into the shadow of the great Navy building make its daily 
appeal to the thousands who pass. It has lost its charm because it 
disappeared in a night, and in its place to-day stands a ten-story 
building whose lights throughout the night tell of double work 
shifts. 

The very stones of Washington are to-day proclaiming war, for 
many of the historic old residences, whose function has been to live 
as largely for sentiment as for utility, have arisen in their might 
and are opening their doors to the hosts of military workers who 
are striving to perform the nation's duty. 

The building in Washington to which the most vital memories 



26 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

attach is the Octagon house, the mansion built at the instigation of 
his friend, General George Washington, by Colonel John Taylor, of 
Virginia. This house was built after the plan of William Thornton, 
designer of the United States Capitol, and it is one of the finest ex- 
amples existing to-day of a colonial house of the eighteenth century. 
It was the scene of some of the most notable social and political 
gatherings of the first days of Washington as the capital, but its 
prime interest arises from the fact that it was the house to which 
President James Madison removed the executive residence and 
offices after the burning of the White House in 1814. During his 
stay here, the Treaty of Ghent, which closed this country's second 
war with Britain, was signed by James Madison. 

This famous old Washington house was purchased some years 
ago by the American Institute of Architects, and is used as its head- 
quarters. When war created a shortage of space for the govern- 
ment's work, the owners of the Octagon house emptied the great 
drawing-room of its historic treasures, including the table on which 
the Treaty of Ghent was signed, and turned the big apartment over 
to the Navy Department for the use of its Naval Intelligence Board. 
The Institute has gone heart and soul into war work and is giving 
its services freely and widely in the matter of supplying architects 
and draftsmen for war emergency work. 

Beautiful Lafayette Square, around which so many of Washing- 
ton's historic memories cling, is giving up its old homes to the 
cause of war's necessity. A tall, white colonial residence of dis- 
tinction, directly facing the White House, w^hich served as the home 
of the naval hero. Commodore Stockton, and later of Slidell of the 
Southern Confederacy; of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy 
under President Lincoln, and of many other statesmen of the past, 
has recently been turned over to the War Department for use as 
headquarters for its Remount Division. 

A block to the west of the Welles house is the old home of George 
Bancroft, the historian, now in part given over to the war relief 
work of the State Department. Here, almost every day, comes 
Mrs. Lansing, wife of the Secretary of State, to take actual charge 
of the making of Red Cross garments and dressings for hospital 
use. 



Washington Homes for Country's Use 27 

Admiral Decatur's old home on the southwest corner, and Daniel 
Webster's handsome residence during the time he served as Secre- 
tary of State, on the northeast corner of H street and Jackson 
Place, still stand in this busy section, untouched by war's activities. 
A few doors below the Decatur mansion, however, the house which 
sheltered Webster after he had sold his larger property to the late 
W. W. Corcoran, is now in active use by the Committee on Public 
Information, whose chief is George Creel. This committee has 
also taken over one or two other houses in the block, including the 
home of Henry Clay. 

A house of interesting connection situated a few doors above the 
home of the Committee on Public Information was recently pur- 
chased by the National Congress of Mothers and Parent-Teachers' 
Association to serve an admirable war mission. This purpose is 
that of a clubhouse for enlisted men of the army and navy which 
will be worthy the capital. The building is spacious and convenient, 
comfortably and attractively fitted and furnished for the united 
benefit of the boys in khaki and the boys in blue, to whose comfort 
and pleasure it is to contribute while they are in camp at or near 
the capital, or when they come to it on a brief visit. The chief his- 
toric tradition of this house consists in the fact that while the White 
House was under reconstruction it served the purpose of Executive 
Mansion to President Roosevelt and his family. 

Another residence which served as a "Little White House" dur- 
ing another regime stands directly across Lafayette Park from the 
new service club, and has also been set to purposes of hospitality 
during the war. This is known as the Taylor mansion, because it 
was built by Benjamin Ogle Taylor. It later became the home of 
Senator Don Cameron. It was the residence of Garrett A. Hobart 
while he was vice-president, and later during the McKinley admin- 
istration it was occupied by Senator Mark Hanna, through whom it 
earned its executive title. For years it was the custom of this sen- 
ator to invite a group of chosen friends for breakfast every Sunday 
morning to meet the President of the United States at an old-fash- 
ioned breakfast, and here over the meal the solons discussed affairs 
of state. This picturesque old house has recently been purchased 
by the Cosmos Club of Washington, its war-time use being to serve 



28 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

as a center of hospitality to a share of the three hundred men of 
science, literature, art, and those "distinguished in the learned pro- 
fessions or in the public service" who, coming to Washington to 
lend their aid to the government of the United States, have been 
tendered the privilege of associate membership in the famous club. 
It has undoubtedly added to the interest of these men, as it has given 
years of gratification to its members, to realize that the main build- 
ing of the series acquired by the Cosmos Club was the home of 
President Madison when he left the White House, and the center 
of extensive hospitality by his wife for a long time after his death, 
and that it knows no other cognomen in Washington than the 
"Dolly Madison House." 

Historic St. John's, the "Church of the Presidents," situated di- 
rectly opposite the White House on Lafayette Square, is one of 
Washington's oldest houses of worship which are contributing their 
share to the war work of the nation. Here from times long past 
and until to-day the people have come to celebrate the joys and sor- 
rows of the nation, to memorialize past wars and to pray for that 
of the present. Presidents Madison, Monroe, John Quincy Adams, 
Jackson, Van Buren, Harrison, Tyler, Fillmore, Buchanan, Arthur, 
and Taft worshipped in St. John's, and every other executive head 
has walked across the picturesque park to attend service in the 
quaint little edifice, which stands much as it left the hands of its 
noted designer, Latrobe. St. John's has taken a deep interest in 
the enlisted men who have come to Washington, either to camp or 
to visit. To meet their need it has opened a restroom for soldiers 
and sailors, where the enlisted men are provided with living accom- 
modations at a nominal price. 

Lafayette Square, fronting the White House and the State, War 
and Navy buildings, and which holds this wealth of historic treas- 
ure around its border, itself speaks of the war. Not only does the 
equestrian statue of Jackson proclaim to the world in graven letters 
the solemn words, "Our Federal Union: It must be preserved," 
but the four monuments of Lafayette, Rochambeau, Kosciusko, 
and von Steuben, which ornament its four corners, speak the cause 
of world freedom for which men oppressed by autocracy left their 
homeland to fight for one which promised a liberty strong enough 



Washington Homes for Country's Use 29 

to last for all time. To-day thoughtful eyes look out upon those 
monuments and upon the vision of grass and trees of this most 
vital of Washington's spaces from buildings which hold the saving 
of the nation in their hands. 

Washington has an historic Army and Navy Club, but, like every 
other institution connected Mnth. the War or Navy departments, the 
sudden expansion of the nation's fighting forces overtaxed the club, 
for officers swarmed to Washington too fast to be absorbed by it. 
To meet this war emergency, a group of reserve officers conceived 
the idea of a United Service Club of America, with headquarters 
in Washington. Secretary of War Baker gave his hearty endorse- 
ment to the project and the United Service parent club was opened 
in Washington, with auxiliaries to follow wherever officers of the 
army and navy are gathered together on this or the other side of 
the Atlantic. For their headquarters the officers were fortunate 
enough to find at their disposal one of the fine old residences of his- 
toric prestige. This is the former home of the late James G. Blaine, 
on Dupont Circle. The spacious house, which was designed by Mr. 
Blaine and his wife without the aid of an architect, occupies the 
entire block between P street and Massachusetts avenue, and over- 
looks the beautiful plot of green sometimes called "Millionaire Cir- 
cle" from the wealth represented by the residents surrounding it. 
This house was purchased from the widow of Secretary Blaine by 
Mr. George Westinghouse, the Pittsburgh millionaire paying $150,- 
000 for it. The officers have leased the house from George West- 
inghouse, Jr., for their use during the war. Not only is the man- 
sion well arranged for its purpose and handsomely fitted, but Mr. 
Westinghouse has permitted the club the use of his furnishings, 
which include many valuable paintings, antiques, tapestries, and 
other articles of beauty and value. The United Service Club of 
America is not limited to reserve officers, but is open to all officers 
of the army and navy. 

Among other historic Washington residences which have con- 
verted their domestic halls into war-working bureaus is the house 
at 1623 Pennsylvania avenue, which was occupied by Andrew John- 
son while he was vice-president of the United States. The De- 
partment of State, which this house faces, is using it as its office of 
Foreign Trade Advisers. 



30 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

The Civilian Personnel Division of the War Department makes 
its headquarters in the Adams building at 1333 F street, which has 
clung to the name of the original building on its site, the Washing- 
ton residence of John Quincy Adams before he took up his abode 
in the White House. Directly opposite another President, Martin 
Van Buren, dwelt, and a sturdy little wing of that building yet 
serves an active purpose of to-day. 

Throughout the whole city of Washington private residences 
have been given to the use of the government for overflowing activ- 
ities, and half a score of apartment houses were summarily emptied 
of their occupants last fall that they might serve the more pressing 
official needs of the army and navy. The first private dwelling 
house in the United States to be contributed to the demands of the 
Red Cross was the spacious mansion of Herbert Wadsworth, which 
immediately on war's proclamation was offered as headquarters for 
the District of Columbia chapter of the American Red Cross. 

Another of the more modern Washington houses contributed to 
the cause of patriotism is the former "Playhouse," whose use for 
the war's duration was generously donated to the government by its 
owner, Mrs. Henrietta M. Halliday. This picturesque and attrac- 
tively furnished building was designed by Colonel J. L. Smithmyer, 
architect of the Congressional Library. It was placed at the dis- 
posal of the Woman's Committee of the Council of National De- 
fense, and is providing comfortable and convenient quarters for the 
group of women constituting this committee who are giving their 
services to the country. 



The Work of a Consular Officer 

By Samuel H. Shank, '92 

So much has been written about the consular service during the 
past few years that I have no doubt that most readers of the Quar- 
terly are infinitely better informed as to the duties of a consul than 
was the writer when he entered the service. But perhaps a great 
number still have a hazy idea as to what a consul actually does, and 
the old idea of the "Yankee Consul" as portrayed in the comic 



The Work of a Consular Officer 31 

opera no doubt still gives the tone to the mental picture of many, 
so I shall try to give a true description of the work. Please do not 
smile at that word "work" till you have finished the story. 

The first duty of every consular officer is to become familiar with 
the consular regulations. These were last published in book form 
in 1896 and consist of about 800 paragraphs, each one of which is 
an instruction regarding the proper conduct of the officer in execut- 
ing his official duties. During the last twenty years these regula- 
tions have been revoked or changed by thousands of instructions of 
the Department of State, or executive orders of the President. Be- 
sides these regulations and instructions, there are the treaties of the 
United States with the various countries which one must observe, 
as well as a general understanding of international law and some 
knowledge of the legal usages in the United States. 

On receipt of an instruction from the Department of State, it 
must be acknowledged and carefully noted in the permanent rec- 
ords, and also carried in the officer's mind, for one cannot always 
stop to read up the instructions to know what to do. As, for in- 
stance, when an American war vessel visits a port and the com- 
mander has paid his official visit at the consulate, the consul must 
then return the visit on board. As he is leaving the ship a salute 
of seven guns is fired (nine in case of a consul general) and unless 
he carried the regulation in his memory he might forget to stand 
with his top-hat in hand and face the vessel till the salute was fin- 
ished. And if he did forget and it were reported to Washington, 
it would mean a black mark on his efficiency record and a prob- 
able instruction from the higher powers calling his attention to the 
fact that he was lacking in his knowledge of his official duties. 

But, unfortunately, such pleasant duties as visiting naval vessels 
from one's own country are rare in the life of a consul and his time 
and thoughts are taken up with more commonplace matters. The 
work varies at different posts, but the one most common to all is 
the execution of invoices. The law requires that every shipment of 
goods to the United States of more than $100 value must be accom- 
panied by an invoice to be presented to the collector of customs at 
the port of entry. These must be prepared in triplicate, quadrupli- 
cate, or quintuplicate as the case may require. They must give the 



32 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

name of the seller, the buyer, the port of arrival, the port of entry, 
the kind of goods, the quantity, and the price. They must be signed 
on both sides of each copy by the shipper or his duly authorized 
agent who has a power of attorney on file in the consulate. The 
consular officer must put on his number, a fee stamp, and seal and 
sign each copy. In the case of food or drug products a certificate 
of purity must be attached, and one must remember which of the 
eighteen cities of the United States have chemical laboratories for 
examining such products in order to know how many copies of the 
invoice are required. To invoices of rags or hides a certificate of 
disinfection must be attached, and this must have its separate fee 
stamp and officer's signature. Shipments of antiques must be ac- 
companied by a declaration that the goods are over one hundred 
years old and paintings of American artists must have their special 
certificates. Invoices of sardines must have their special certifi- 
cates of "identification." Shipments of household effects require 
other forms of invoice, as do "American goods returned." At pres- 
ent each invoice must be accompanied by a certificate of currency, 
showing the depreciation of the local currency, and so each invoice 
must be signed at least six times. This office has executed as high 
as 170 invoices in a day, which means that one must sign his name 
seven or eight hundred times in a day. I have been thankful many 
times that my name was not "Wigglesworth" or "Throckmorton" ; 
in fact, I have discarded the initials and use only the last name in 
order to save time. 

Besides seeing that the invoice is properly filled out, we are ex- 
pected to see that the prices given correspond with the local market 
prices, but I fear that few officers live up strictly to that regulation. 
One invoice may contain a hundred or more articles and it would 
be impossible for an officer to know the market price of all of them 
even had he the time to look them over. The Department of State 
occasionally sends out instructions cautioning officials to scrutinize 
carefully the prices in invoices. A consul in the Far East in re- 
plying to one such instruction called attention to an invoice which 
contained over six hundred items, the first of which was "one 
carved ivory elephant." He wrote : "If I were able to tell whether 
that elephant were listed at the market price, I wouldn't be work- 



The Work of a Consular Officer 33 

ing for the United States Government for $5,000 a year." And 
still it was a part of his duties to know. Things may run along 
smoothly for months and no one be the wiser even if some articles 
have been undervalued, and then one morning you open your mail 
and find a letter from a collector of customs calling your attention 
to "two different invoices executed by you on the same day, one 
giving the price of human hair at 90 lire a kilo and the other at 
100 lire." You start out on a hunting expedition for the scalp of 
the "manufacturer" of human hair who has so basely tried to de- 
fraud the government, and after having visited a half-dozen estab- 
lishments you come back with a world of information which you 
impart to the collector in a manner so lucid that any professor of 
mathematics could understand it. In about two months you receive 
a letter asking for "the market price on the date of shipment." 
Having already informed him that there is no market price, as the 
dealers do not sell to the local trade (the natives do not buy their 
own hair) you repeat this information and then he requests his de- 
partment to send a special treasury agent from Paris to investigate 
the business. You then spend all of your "leisure" time for a 
month taking the special agent around to interview every one who 
ever bought, sold, lost, or stole human hair and after he (or she) 
has pried into the secrets of all the men in the business, he makes 
a report to the collector. After about a year the board of apprais- 
ers hears the evidence, reads the reports of the agent and the con- 
sul, decides that all foreign shippers are thieves and are in a trust 
to rob the United States Government, and assesses the duty at a 
price which they think any one who would sell human hair ought to 
pay and add 70 per cent, fine because he had not invoiced at that 
price in the first place, when, as a matter of fact, he had actually 
sold the goods at a price below his invoiced price. The honest ship- 
per pays his fine of $5,000 or $10,000 and then comes to the consul 
and wants to know what kind of a government there is in the 
United States of America anyway! Then is the time for a consul 
to use all of his diplomatic powers and he has to do a lot of "tall 
talking" in a foreign tongue to convince the irate shipper that the 
government is all right, but that his competitors were to blame as 
they were jealous of his success, and the board must be composed 



34 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

of a lot of blockheads who were prejudiced, but then "what can 
you expect of a lot of men who have no more ability than to work 
for $25 a day?" 

"Tell the gentlemen I shall see them at once." Oh, blessed relief ! 
He will have to go now, and I was at the end of my list of apologies. 

The messenger informs me that there are about twenty shippers 
who would like to speak with me. With outwardly polite apologies 
for disturbing me, but inwardly wanting to stiletto me, they demand 
to "know the reason why I have compelled them to raise the price 
of lemon boxes from 36 to 38 cents, when they can buy all they 
want for 30 cents apiece." After explaining that I have searched 
the town over for the philanthropist who would sell lemon boxes 
below cost and could not find him, I had been compelled to adopt 
the market price for their invoices to save them from paying a fine 
in New York for under-valuing their boxes, but if they would bring 
me a written offer of a lower price I would adopt it. One and all 
promise to bring me the offer next day, but I know they will never 
return with the offers and so go home to lunch, free for an hour 
from the troubles of others. 

Besides the work of executing the invoices, one must enter them 
in the fee book, showing their number, name of shipper, kind and 
value of goods, and the fee paid. Also the statistics of the quan- 
tities and values must be kept and a report made at the end of the 
year showing the increases and decreases of each article. One in- 
voice may contain dozens of articles, and when the invoices run 
into thousands it is no small job to keep the statistics. The Pa- 
lermo consulate had over 8,000 invoices in 1914. The original copy 
is kept on file in the consulate, the duplicate given to the shipper, 
and the triplicate sent to the collector of customs at the port of 
entry. The triplicates must be accompanied by a duplicate list for 
each port, giving the names of the shippers, the amount, and the 
fee. In the case of invoices of food products a fourth copy must 
be sent to the food and drug laboratory. 

Next in importance is the execution of notarial services. These 
include affidavits, certifying the signatures of officials, certifying to 
birth, marriage, and death certificates, executing claims for death 
benefits, pension vouchers, deeds, releases of mortgages, and taking 



The Work of a Consular Officer 35 

depositions for use in lawsuits pending in the United States. These 
latter may take several days if there are several witnesses and have 
to be translated from one language to another. 

Work varies in different posts and where there are many Ameri- 
cans the registration of citizens and the application for passports 
requires a great deal of time and work. This latter work has been 
materially increased since the war began, as no one can go from one 
city to another without his passport bearing his photograph and de- 
scription and the visa of the consul and local officials. Going from 
one country to another now requires more documents than it for- 
merly did to go around the world. 

At seaports there is a vast amount of work in preparing the bill 
of health for every vessel bound for an American port, seeing that 
seamen are paid off if they are dissatisfied with their treatment on 
board, paying for board and lodging of seamen stranded in port, 
paying their hospital bills when they are sick or injured, securing 
them employment on other ships or paying their passage home if no 
employment can be found, settling disputes between masters and 
crews, and, in rare cases, settling bottomry cases. At such ports as 
London, Liverpool, and Gibraltar this work is enormous. 

Where there are many emigrants it is necessary to have a physi- 
cian examine them for trachoma and other contagious diseases and 
to have men to examine their baggage and if necessary to disinfect 
the same. All doubtful cases are referred to the consul, and he fre- 
quently must go on board ship to decide whether certain persons 
may depart or not. The number of emigrants from the port of 
Palermo in 1913 was over 61,000, and the work of examining the 
passengers and their baggage required the services of a doctor and 
six men. 

Each week the consul must obtain the vital statistics and report 
the total deaths and the cases and deaths of all contagious diseases 
and forward the report to Washington. In case of an epidemic he 
must cable reports to the government, and see that each ship leav- 
ing a port in his district is properly disinfected. 

When hides or rags are to be shipped, they must be disinfected 
under the supervision of the consulate, and proper certificates of 
disinfection must be attached to the invoice. 



36 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

In Canada consuls are frequently required to seal freight cars 
which are loaded for interior ports in the United States. This is 
not a pleasant task at best, but when one has to drive three miles 
with the thermometer 40 degrees below zero and climb between 
cars covered with snow and ice, put a wire through the latch of a 
box car door and press on a lead seal, do this on four doors of 
twenty different cars, he commences to think that the consular serv- 
ice is not all a thing of glory and wishes that he might have some of 
the fellows back home assisting him at such a "pink tea." 

These last two services are the only kinds of consular work that 
are not done at the Palermo consulate. 

At the end of each quarter a report has to be made of all the 
transactions which have been made by the consulate. A copy of 
the fee book, fee stamp account, clerk hire account with vouchers, 
contingent expense account with vouchers for every item of ex- 
penditure, list of visas of passports, list of telegrams sent, postage 
account, services to seamen, and various other forms have to be 
made out and sent in. An account current has to be made out 
showing the moneys received and the amounts expended and the 
balance, if any, sent to the United States treasurer. Some con- 
sulates do not collect enough fees to pay the expenses, but this con- 
sulate has remitted in one year nearly $10,000 after paying all ex- 
penses of salaries, rent, and other incidentals. Before the war the 
consular service collected almost enough to pay the total expense 
of the service. 

Besides these routine duties, consuls are instructed to make re- 
ports on a multitude of subjects. Some of these are for the gov- 
ernmental departments while others are for private associations or 
individuals. The subjects have an unlimited range, such as air- 
ships, motors, tractors, windmills, wood-working machinery, tex- 
tiles, control of floods, street building, hardware, sewage disposal, 
educational systems, stock breeding, cinematographs, fire protec- 
tion, street railways, paper, municipal improvements, methods of 
packing, flour milling, coal, laces, typewriters, buttons, etc., etc. 
Officers are supposed to report on anything that may seem to offer 
an opportunity for the extension of American trade, or that may be 
of interest to any line of endeavor in the United States. The writer 



The Work of a Consular Officer 37 

has reported on everything from wheelbarrows to Zeppelins. One 
official said he had written at least two reports on every subject now 
known to man, and felt like offering a reward to any one who could 
discover something on which he had not reported. 

Three or four thousand letters are received at a consulate in a 
year, and many of these are from manufacturers seeking informa- 
tion regarding the prospects of new markets in their respective 
lines. Often a questionnaire is sent which requires technical knowl- 
edge to answer and a consul may spend a month collecting infor- 
mation for his reply. I know of an officer who reported on some 
thirty-five subjects in answer to one letter from a chamber of com- 
merce. 

Much of one's time is taken up with people coming in for infor- 
mation and assistance of one kind or another. One day a woman 
came in and said she had a brother who had been in America for 
twenty years and she had had no word from him for eleven years. 
"He lives in Wisconsin, and would you be so kind as to call him up 
on the telephone and let me talk to him?" And this occurred in 
the land of "Kultur." Many call with the request that they be sent 
to their relatives in America. Some rather intelligent Americans 
have had the idea that all a consul was for was to send them home 
when they were short of funds, and many of them cannot be made 
to believe it when told that the United States Government would 
not give them a dollar to prevent them from starving. There is a 
surprising number of respectable beggars who have traveled over 
Europe at the private expense of consuls. Their usual plea is that 
if they can reach such and such a port they can work their way 
back home on some ship and the consul contributes enough to get 
him to the next consulate, where he works the same or another 
story. 

There are naturally some pleasant features about the service. An 
officer and his family have entree to the best society and are always 
accorded the courtesy due their rank. Invitations to all public 
functions are a matter of course. These sometimes prove a little 
embarrassing to a newcomer until he has learned the customs of the 
country. I know an officer who was told that he should wear his 
dress suit to a 1 o'clock banquet in Germany. He was so doubtful 



38 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

that he took his frock coat along in a carriage till he went into the 
hotel and saw others in evening dress and so sent his other suit 
back home. One does feel rather foolish walking around all after- 
noon in evening attire, but when every one else is doing the same 
the foolish feeling gradually wears off. But I never could bring my- 
self to walk down the street at noon in a dress suit without an over- 
coat as I have seen dozens of the best citizens doing on a hot day. 

One of the pleasantest features of the position is the extreme 
courtesy shown a consular officer in common with other officials in 
foreign countries. There is that deference and respect for the rep- 
resentatives of the government, so often lacking at home, which 
makes the administration of the law much more effective. I have 
often wondered how our lack of attention and deference must 
strike some of the representatives of other nations when they are 
sent to the United States, especially when they have been stationed 
in a country which observes all the niceties of etiquette towards 
foreign representatives. As a matter of course consuls are invited 
to all state banquets and other functions, but I think these are at- 
tended as a duty rather than as a source of pleasure by the ma- 
jority of men in the service. 

Many think of the service as a fine opportunity to visit foreign 
countries and study foreign customs and habits, and such it is, but 
they forget that in living in foreign cities many of the ordinary 
comforts of life at home must be forsaken and the pleasure of asso- 
ciation with life-long friends is lost; that at best you are a "bird of 
passage" and about the time you are beginning to have a few real 
friends in a place you are transferred to a city (or town) where 
you know no one, where you may not understand a word of the 
language and where you did not desire to go. And this shifting 
from one post to another is especially trying to the families of con- 
suls. The sacrifices which most officers have to make in selling 
their household goods and paying their transportation often 
amounts to all they have been able to save from their limited sal- 
aries. One consul who was transferred from France to the Azores 
lost over $5,000 and his salary was $3,000 a year. Many men have 
had to resign because their salaries were insufficient to live on and 
they were running in debt. 



From Our Soldier Boys 39 

As mentioned above, a consul is required to delve into an un- 
limited number of subjects and he thus gets a broad view of life 
and its activities, but he has not sufficient time or opportunity to 
study any one business till he becomes an expert. And his absence 
from his own country for a number of years prevents him from 
forming business and social relationships which are a permanent 
asset in life. He may spend half a lifetime in serious, conscien- 
tious work, and v/hen he leaves it he has not as much as the cor- 
ner grocer to point to as his achievement in life; and when he re- 
signs he has not even the pension voucher of the common soldier to 
remind the government that he served it well, and he goes to join 
the host of the unhonored and forgotten. 



From Our Soldier Boys 

*" Tis God' s voice calls ; how could I stayV 

Whitney R. Spiegel, ex-'18: 

"Somewhere in France." 

The best thing you folks back home can do is to write letters, 
and after they have been finished to sit down and to write more 
letters. Yesterday's mail was the first I had received in fifteen 
days, so you can imagine with what interest I devoured the news. 
I was more than fortunate in the number I received — twenty, so I 
ought not to complain. It really would be better if mail came every 
three or four days, instead of from fifteen days to three weeks and 
then have enough to start a post office. 

It was great news to hear of Butler's glorious football season. 
I have thought of the college many times, and have wondered how 
every one was getting along. I suppose you had a great time when 
Harry Perkins brought his team from Camp Taylor to play Butler.' 
Tell the Butler students that the money they contributed to the 
Y. M. C. A. is the best investment they could have made. There 
is no institution for which I have higher words of praise than the 
Y. M. C. A. Many, many enjoyable evenings I have spent in their 
little frame huts, listening to their Victrola or piano. Really it 






-ur^ 



-^■^tf-- 



40 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

makes one think he is back home as he listens to the old songs he 
has heard so many times as he sat about the grate fire. As this 
stationery shows, I am writing now in the Y. M. C. A. 

There is a great "bit" going on over here, but what is most inter- 
esting is censored. I am trying, however, to remember most of 
the things of importance to tell you when I return. 

This town of "Somewhere" is a great place. It has no doubt 
received more prominence than any other city in the world. To 
describe it would be as hopeless a task as my learning French. The 
French language is hard to conquer. You can study and study and 
think you are progressing finely, until you hear a Frenchman talk, 
and you are then sure you have never heard the language before. 

There are many historical places of which I had read, and now 
it is my pleasure to see them with my own eyes — a treat I had never 
dreamed would be mine when burning the midnight oil to learn 
about them. 

I have not told you much news, but if this conveys to you Butler 
people my thanks and appreciation it will have served its purpose. 
My thoughts are with you a great deal. I am not with any Butler 
boys or any one I ever heard of. 

Robert E. Larsh, ex-'19: 

"Somewhere." 

Somehow to-night it is not easy to write. I can think of a mil- 
lion things I want to say, but the regulations say no. So, if this 
is a little rambling, blame it on the war. 

This has been a beautiful day. We have so few of them that 
we take great care to mark them down. It has been cold, but the 
kind of cold that makes you feel that you have taken a new lease 
on life. It braces me up anyhow. Now please do not get the im- 
pression that I am down and out, for we have too much to do that 
is interesting to feel so. 

I am in one of those many Y's which are popping up all over 
France. They are doing a great work. There is usually a canteen 
connected with them where we can buy tobacco, candy, canned 
goods, and other little articles which we miss so much. There is a 
large music room connected with this, where are given some really 



From Our Soldier Boys 41 

fine concerts. You would not think such music could be found in 
an army band, but the Minnesota band has some of the bands back 
home wiped clear out. 

I broke the record and went to church this morning. This surely 
is a red letter day. Freddy Daniels and the bunch out of our can- 
tonment went. This was the first service our chaplain had held, so 
we decided to start out right. You know we have to march in 
some sort of formation everywhere we go, but v/e didn't know what 
would be the regulation formation for church, since it's not in the 
book. We finally lined up in the shape of a cross with Danny 
leading and I at the foot. We did get serious when we got there 
and enjoyed the service very much. 

You ask if I ever see the Butler boys. I think I see about fifteen 
every day. Besides Danny, there are Duke Witherspoon, Art Bryan, 
Storey Larkin, Ed Whitaker, in the same company with me ; then, 
Fritz Wagoner in the supply company, and about five in Battery 
E, so we are not a bit lonesome. I hear from "Tow" pretty often, 
too, and hope to see him soon. He seems to be enjoying himself 
and getting along finely. I think he has been to Paris twice— once 
on leave and once on duty. He surely makes a good soldier. Carlos 
is over here, too, with the 15th F. A.; so, you see, the Butler boys 
are well represented. 

A book of poems came to me for Christmas, and I do enjoy sit- 
ting by the stove and reading it. I have read clear through and 
have started it over again. It moves whenever I move and it's 
going to take a journey soon. I lent it to one of the boys while 
I was away on a trip. We compare notes on which poems are the 
best, and at times we get into pretty lively discussions. He has 
a book of Huxley's Essays which helps to pass the time between 
retreat and bedtime. We got pretty hot the other night over "On 
a Piece of Chalk." The whole cantonment was in before we got 
through, so you see our time is not spent so badly. 

"Tow" BoNHAM, '18: The copy of "Character and Heroism" 
has come. It certainly deals with subjects of vital current inter- 
est, but its thought would be more effective in time of peace. 
Words on heroism are superfluous over here, for heroism is con- 



42 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

sidered a form of doing one's duty. Sacrifice, too, is just plain duty 
as millions of men have done it. As to character, why, character is 
made daily here. Every skirmish tends to bring out what is in a 
man. A man's whole future may be moulded by incidents which 
occur in the soldier's daily routine. The life of a soldier is very 
different from the life of the civilian and for the most part makes 
him much more useful all round. 

There is little time for me to write, but I think of you all at But- 
ler many times, be sure. Good night. 

Hiram B. Seward: 

New Britain, Connecticut. 

Yes, I am a present-day Rip Van Winkle — only my sleep has not 
lasted so long! I guess there have been more things happening 
which will make history during these few weeks or months than 
during Rip's long years of slumber. 

To you I have been asleep or dumb for a mighty long time; to 
myself — dumb probably, but not slumbering all the time, for things 
are happening every minute these days and we all keep upon the 
move. What with thinking of all the terrible happenings of the 
war, of my many friends in the conflict, of my scattered family, 
of you people at home — and then of our work here — why, I just 
about keep my head busy. We have been very busy at our factory 
for the past six weeks, and part of my work has been especially 
heavy because of the many embargoes. 

First, I wish to thank you for the Quarterly, which I enjoyed — 
the letters from the boys in France were of especial interest be- 
cause I knew every one of the writers. "Tow" Bonham's note did 
not sound much like him — there was no humor or sarcasm — just 
matter of fact. Bob Larsh's was natural in its sound — he will 
make some soldier, too. If Vollie Forsyth were just there to com- 
mand the Irvington bunch they would lick the Fritzies all by them- 
selves. 

I keep fairly well posted as regards Indianapolis, as much as one 
might expect to gain through the newspapers, for I get the News 
and Sunday Star. One of my Daily Illinis of last week showed a 
picture of the raising of Illinois' service flag, consisting of over 



From Our Soldier Boys 43 

twenty-six hundred stars. From the News I noted that Glen Loy 
and Henry Jameson had both been made first Heutenants, which 
fact I was duly proud of. 

Since the 30th of January I have been a private in the service 
and have been dubbed one of General Pershing's Advance Guards 
and Captain of the Boy Scouts. Some youngster on the street 
to-day informed me that I was too little to wear the said uniform! 
I guess I will always expect to be "kidded" about my great stature ! 
The military name of our branch of the service is, The Ordnance 
Enlisted Corps of the National Army. The last steps of my enter- 
ing the service were performed in Washington, with the customary 
formality. The greater part of the clothes issued me I received at 
the Washington barracks, where they had that one-hundred-thou- 
sand-dollar fire. The overcoat was wet and heavy and strong with 
smoke. One of the fellows here says that it is darker in color than 
the others because it has more smoke in it. Everything I received 
had to be altered so that now I have a very good fit. 

On the 20th of February I had the honor and great pleasure of 
being raised to the degree of a Master Mason here in New Britain. 
My father came up from Pittsburgh for the occasion and you may 
be sure I was glad to see him after these months. We had almost 
a week together, during which time we had a real visit. 

While in Washington I saw a number of old Butler people and 
spent one evening with Theo Kingsbury, wife, and family, and 
Scott Brewer and Eda. We had some "talk fest" and a real home 
meal, too. I visited Fred Schortemeier, chatted with Anne Mur- 
phy, Sergeant Kuebler, who is a chemist at the American Univer- 
sity, and saw Mr. Tom Shipp. To get to see some one at the new 
War building at 6th and B streets, is a real job now. If you have 
no pass, you have to sign up and then wait until some G. A. R. 
guide takes you in tow. The partitions or walls are all made of 
plaster or beaver board. No one smokes in that building — mighty 
hard on the United States Cigar Stores Company ! 

I am stationed at the same plant as last fall and any news from 
home will be greatly appreciated. My best wishes to all the boys 
across, and regards to any and all friends in Irvington. 



44 Butler Alumnal Ouarterly 

Lieutenant Hilton U. Brown, ex-: We just came in out of 
the dark night after giving Mr. Boche "two rounds." He gave 
us a good shelling to-day, but the men have grown so used to old 
Heinie's shells that they go right on with their work without bat- 
ting an eye. They have found that it is comparatively easy to tell 
when the shell is coming close and the men usually have time to 
duck into some shelter before it "lets go." 

It is still snowing a little outside, but the weather is not cold and 
we feel that the winter is about over. We have had enough cold 
v.-eather during maneuvers to do us the rest of our lives. I do not 
particularly fancy getting up in the morning and having to thaw 
out my shoes before I can get them on. But it all goes in a day's 
business in the army. In fact we are far from uncomfortable in 
our daily routine, though, of course, by turns, we have long night 
hours and are glad to get to our comfortable dugout, with a stove 
and plenty of light and ventilation. 

John Fuller, '17, Petrograd: I have been wanting to write to 
you ever since I reached Petrograd in September, but somehow 
the days have slipped by so rapidly, each one has been so well filled 
with work, that here it is New Year's eve and I find myself just 
getting to it. I am going to have more time on my hands from now 
on, I think, than I shall know what to do with, but in spite of that 
I know of no better way of spending a New Year's eve than by 
writing to old friends. I know that it will be several months be- 
fore this letter can possibly reach you, if it should reach you at 
all. but I hope you will not have entirely forgotten me or thought 
that I had forgotten my promise to let you hear from me some- 
times. 

I arrived here on September 15 with the six other fellows who 
made up our party — one of them from Indianapolis, by the way — 
after a very pleasant trip. We were held up for five days in Hali- 
fax and for six in Stockholm ; but the latter delay gave us a chance 
to see something of the city, so we didn't mind it much. From 
Stockholm to Petrograd by way of Haparanda and Tornea was a 
long and not awfully comfortable journey, but we made it at last, 
and, by great good fortune, without losing any of the baggage 



From Our Soldier Boys 45 

which filled our twenty odd trunks and a few extra bags and suit- 
cases, baggage which had been our greatest care since leaving New 
York; though there was a time when I carried some of my papers 
up my back inside my clothes and had my pockets filled with every- 
thing they would hold from my bags. That was because they have 
a failing for taking toilet articles and all papers and notes away 
from travelers as they cross the border into Russia. It was just 
by chance that we escaped a personal search. 

Since getting here time has not been allowed to hang heavily on 
our hands for a day ; we have hardly had time to think about being 
homesick, and that in spite of lack of many of the things we took 
as a matter of course at home. I am quite used to the absence of 
sugar and milk now, and to the coarse, black bread that very soon 
we shall probably be only too glad to get at all; but it was pretty 
hard at first to get up in the morning to coffee, bread, and jam for 
breakfast, with the prospect of soup, potatoes, and meat for lunch 
and dinner, without kicking. At first I tried living in an apartment 
with a couple of other fellows with a maid to buy our food for 
us and stand in the bread-lines, but that arrangement wasn't very 
satisfactory, so I am now getting a few more of the comforts of 
home living with a family of Poles ; and getting a little practice in 
my Russian as well. Petrograd was just recovering from the 
Kornilof affair when we got here — recovering after a fashion, that 
is. It is far from "well" yet. But the excitement was just dying 
down so we had the experience of seeing the city fairly quiet for 
almost a month. Then the Bolsheviks got busy after a couple of 
weeks of threatening all sorts of dire things. Since then they have 
carried out all their threats and more, too, so that we have acquired 
the habit of believing them when they promise anything in the way 
of trouble nowadays. Some of the fellows here had passed through 
the revolution of March and July, so they were prepared for the 
one in November; but we who had newly arrived were more them 
satisfied with the one revolutionary experience and are not wishing 
for any more excitement as we did at first. It is only within the 
last week or so that desultory firing could not be heard at almost 
any time from some section of the city; now it has quieted down, 
though there are still too many armed civilians, the "Red Guard" 



46 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

they are called, in evidence. German and Austrian officers and 
"prisoners" are not lacking on the streets ; more are scheduled to 
arrive this week, though no one seems to know exactly what for. 
The Constituent Assembly after many delays will probably be al- 
lowed to meet this week, and if it does we shall probably be in for 
another revolution of some sort. 

The bank work [in the Petrograd branch of the National City 
Bank of New York] so far has been very interesting and has kept 
us very busy up to the present, working week days, Sundays, and 
holidays. The Russian calendar is two weeks behind ours, you 
know, so even on Christmas Day we were down at it as usual. 
Right now we are doing nothing, and from present signs won't 
have very much to do from now on, for last Thursday our Bolshe- 
vik friends paid us a visit in force and informed us that the bank 
was closed ; and we have had to take their word for it and cease 
all operations, even from doing our inside wxrk behind closed 
doors. We had become used to that, for the last three weeks, we 
have only been open for an hour a day to the public and then only 
allowed a thousand roubles a day to a customer ; for with the State 
Bank, the sole source of supply of rouble bills, closed, all the banks 
are very short of cash. Now we are only permitted to sit at our 
desks by asking the right of the red-headed lieutenant who acts as 
our "boss." We come down every day as usual hoping that we 
may be allowed to work, only to sit around all day reading the 
papers or playing cards. This morning even cards were denied us, 
for the "boss" came in in rather a bad humor and tore them up. 
He evidently doesn't approve of card-playing in his bank. 

It takes two or three months for mail to travel between Russia 
and America, so I suppose the school year will be drawing to a 
close at Butler by the time this reaches you. I often think of the 
old school and wonder to what extent the changes of the last few 
months have wrought there. I heard from George Kingsbury at 
Camp Shelby recently, and he enclosed in his letter a couple of 
Collegians which gave me a little of the Butler news. I was sur- 
prised to see that the enrollment was greater than ever this year, 
but I suppose it is as true of schools as it is of men that you "can't 
keep a good one down." 



BUTLER ALUMNAL QUARTERLY 

ISSUED JANUARY, APRIL, JULY, OCTOBER 

Published by the Ahimnal Association of Butler College, Indianapolis, Ind. 

Subscription price, one dollar per year. 

Entered at the Indianapolis post office as second-class mail matter, March 
26, 1912. 

Officers of the Alumni Association — President, E. W. Gans, '87; First Vice- 
President, John W. Atherton, '00 ; Second Vice-President, Ruth Aller- 
dice, '06; Treasurer, Carl Van Winkle, '14. 

Secretary and Editor of the Butler Alumnal Quarterly — Katharine M. Gray- 
don, '78. 

Founder's Day 

Dean Coulter's address given in chapel was the sole celebration 
of Founder's Day. It made a deep impression upon all who were 
fortunate enough to hear it, and we are happy to present it to our 
readers. 

Stanley Coulter, of Purdue University, is one of the men who 
have enriched Indiana, one in whom the fine spirit of his pioneer 
ancestry finds worthy expression. Inherited strength and cultiva- 
tion have given to Professor Coulter's responsive nature an unusual 
power over young people. The Butler students felt it; they knew, 
timely as the message was, that back of it was a noble personality. 

Memorial Day 

The observance of Memorial Day in the chapel has grown to be 
more and more a college event. And it should be so. The last few 
years have awakened men's conscience to the inexpressible debt 
they owe to those who made the supreme sacrifice for the preserva- 
tion of the Union. Fitting, therefore, it is that all should join on 
this occasion in an expression of gratitude and reconsecration of 
self to higher ideals. 

Doubtless, when the present conflict will have ended, there will 
be a great Memorial Day — a day dedicated to the heroes of many 
races. Apropos of this thought we give elsewhere Maeterlinck's 
address on "The Power of the Dead," a memorial to the Belgian 
dead. 



48 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Memorial Day this year comes on Thursday, May 30. There are 
to be exercises in the chapel as last year. The alumni generally are 
invited and it is hoped that they will plan to be present. Definite 
announcements of the speaker and the program will appear later in 
the daily press and the Collegian. 

Commencement 

The features of Commencement week will be as heretofore : 
Baccalaureate Address on Sunday afternoon, June 9; Philokurian 
reunion, June 10; Class Day and Alumni reunion, June 12; Com- 
mencement, June 13. It is hoped the Alumni will be present in 
large numbers. The Alma Mater never needed her loyal children 
more. 

Class Celebrations 

The Golden Anniversary falls this year to the Class of '68. The 
present directory of the class is: Alexander C. Ayres, Indian- 
apolis; Scot Butler, Irvington; Mrs. F. C. Cassel (Barbara 
Blount) , Rossville, Indiana ; Harry C. Ray, Shelbyville, Indiana ; 
Walter S. Smith, Irvington ; Edwin Taylor, Evansville, Indiana. 
Time has starred the name of Alcinda T. Blount (Mrs. J. A. Can- 
ady), who died December 12, 1890, at Rossville, Indiana; Samuel 
H. Dunlop, who died December, 1910, at New York City; Dr. Jo- 
seph W. Marsee, who died December 3, 1898, at Indianapolis ; 
Mary M. Moore (Mrs. McConnell), who died April, 1911, at Ox- 
ford, Indiana; Anna W. Scovel (Mrs. Chauncy Butler), who died 
December 3, 1894, at Indianapolis ; Granville S. Wright, who died 
November 5, 1909, at Indianapolis, 

The Silver Anniversary falls to the Class of '93. Its directory 
is: Stella Braden (Mrs. Jesse L. Brady), Oroville, California; 
Jesse L. Brady, Oroville, California ; Harry S. Brown, Arkansas 
City, Kansas; Evelyn M. Butler, Irvington; Edward H. Clififord, 
Dayton, Ohio ; Julia R. Fish, Indianapolis ; Will D. Howe, Bloom- 
ington, Indiana ; Frank F. Hummel, Chicago ; Lona L. Iden, Nobles- 
ville, Indiana ; Dr. Daniel W. Layman, Indianapolis ; John Minnick, 
New York City; Mary E. Thomas (Mrs. J. E. O'Brien), Placer- 



Resignation of Mr. Winders 49 

ville, California; Bertha B. Ward, Indianapolis; Frank F. Wil- 
liams, Wabash, Indiana. The one starred name is that of Luther 
A. Thompson, who died in July, 1907, at Indianapolis. 

A Change in the Faculty 

Professor James Brown, of the chemistry department, has re- 
tired from the faculty to assume the duties of chief chemist for the 
C. E. Eping Corporation, manufacturers of chemicals and essen- 
tial oils. His work will consist largely of organic synthesis. 

Professor Brown came to Butler College in 1911. He and Mrs. 
Brown identified themselves with the life of the community to an 
unusual degree. The best wishes of the Quarterly follow them to 
their new home in Brooklyn, New York. 

John McBride, '15 (A. M. University of Chicago, '16), will assist 
in the advanced classes, and Karl Means, '14, will be in charge of 
the general chemistry classes. 

Resignation of Mr. Winders 

The resignation of the Rev. Charles H. Winders, of the Downey 
Avenue Christian Church, to accept a pastorate at Hannibal, Mis- 
souri, has caused much regret at the college and throughout Ir- 
vington. During the eleven years of Mr. Winders's life in our midst 
he did much to help and to endear himself to the community. He 
has at all times been keenly alive to the interests of the college, and 
will be truly missed by the students. 

The Quarterly congratulates the church at Hannibal in its choice 
of a pastor and will follow Mr. Winders and his family with much 
interest and good-will. 

Successor of Mr. Winders 

Clarence L. Reidenbach, '12, has been unanimously chosen by 
the congregation of the Downey Avenue Church to succeed Mr. 
Winders and will enter upon his duties not later than July 1. 

Mr. Reidenbach is well known already in Irvington. He was 
born in Edinburg, Indiana, February 14, 1889. His parents died 
when he was a youth. He went to Nineveh to live with his grand- 



so Butler Alumnal Ouarterly 

parents, and was graduated from the high school there in 1907. 
He entered Butler College in January, 1908, and was graduated 
with the A. B. degree in the class of 1912. 

During his college career he preached at New Palestine, which 
was his first charge, and also for the St. Paul, Oaklandon, Little 
Sugar Creek, and Williams Creek churches, maintaining himself 
and making his own way through his whole college course. 

In the meantime he participated in athletics, was captain of the 
best baseball team the college ever had, played a good game of foot- 
ball and tennis, was a member of all the debating teams and helped 
to win every intercollegiate debate in which he participated. He 
was a member of the Tau Kappa Alpha oratorical fraternity and of 
the Delta Tau Delta. 

He entered the Yale School of Religion in September, 1912, and 
was graduated with the Bachelor of Divinity degree in 1915, re- 
ceiving his degree }nagna cum laude and was named as honorary 
traveling fellow of the school. He has been a member of the uni- 
versity debating teams. All the time he has been supporting him- 
self in the university by preaching. 

In 1915 Mr. Reidenbach married Miss Hildred Hughes, whom 
he had met in college. She was interested in Y. W. C. A. work in 
Indianapolis before her marriage. 

Dean Charles R. Brown, of the Yale School of Religion, has 
written of Mr. Reidenbach : "He is one of the strongest, finest, and 
truest men we have had in our school during the seven years I have 
been dean. He was graduated two years ago with the highest hon- 
ors of his class, and has done excellent work since his graduation 
in courses looking toward a doctor's degree in June (in philosophy 
and history of religion). 

"He is an all-round man, has a warm, sympathetic heart, an un- 
selfish interest in his fellows, and a splendid spirit of loyalty. He 
is far and away the best preacher in the town where he preaches, 
and besides is an influential factor in the Christian life of the com- 
munity. He is captain of the divinity school baseball nine, which 
has the habit of defeating all the neighboring seminaries. He is 
sure to be an eflfective leader wherever he goes. He has the intel- 
lectuality and the culture necessary for a college community. He 
preaches a warm-hearted, evangelical message." 



Personal Mention 

Miss Mary Pavey, '12, is teaching in the high school at Marion, 
Indiana. 

Miss Mary McBride, '14, is teaching English in the Earl Park 
High School. 

Elton R. Clarke, '15, is stationed at Fort Oglethorpe, Georgia, in 
the medical department. 

Miss Ruth E. Dens ford, '15, is teaching mathematics in the high 
school of Areola, Illinois. 

Robert A. Bull, '97, is in France at the head of an important 
steel construction company. 

Roger Wayne Wallace, '09, has enlisted in the aviation corps, 
stationed at Camp John Wise, San Antonio, Texas. 

Mallie J. Murphy, '08, has left Washington for France, where he 
will do publicity work for the American Red Cross. 

President T. C. Howe, '89, conducted the funeral services of Mrs. 
Emsley Johnson. He also assisted at those of Miss Grace Blount. 

Miss Laura Ann Reed, '17, has returned to her home in Green- 
field, after several months spent with relatives at Stillwater, Minne- 
sota. 

Paul Ward, '14, who took his Ph. D. at Union Theological Sem- 
inary in New York City last June, has joined the aviation signal 
corps. 

Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell V. Bailey (Ellen McMurry), both former 
students, have returned from North Dakota to Indianapolis for 
residence. 

Joshua C. Witt, '08, has transferred his residence to Binangonan, 
Rizal, Philippine Islands, where he is connected with the Rizal 
Cement Company. 



52 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Mr. and Mrs. Stanley Smith, former students of the college, have 
returned from Chicago to Irvington for residence, and are at home 
in North Irvington avenue. 

The Quarterly expresses its sympathy to Mr. Marshall Reeves 
and his family in the death of Mrs. Reeves, which occurred at St. 
Petersburg, Florida, on March 13. 

President Scot Butler, '68, Mrs. Butler, and Mrs. Georgia But- 
ler Clifford, '91, have spent several months in Florida, near Mr. 
Chauncy Butler, '69, at Interlaken. 

Mrs. Evelyn Jeffries King, '91, has returned to Irvington after 
several months spent in California. Enroute she visited at Salt 
Lake City, J. C. Smith, '88, and family. 

The latest return of alumni to Irvington for residence is that of 
John Moore, ex-'89, and Mrs. Flora Green Moore, ex-. Their son 
Paul is a member of the freshman class. 

Milton O. Naramore, '83, is actively at work in Chicago fighting 
King Alcohol, and all that Billy Sunday is there warring against. 
Mr. Naramore is one of the secretaries of the meetings now in prog- 
ress in that city. 

The music of Founder's Day was furnished by our friends, Mr. 
Frank M. Ketcham and Mr. Homer Van Wie. Many times have 
they given much pleasure to Butler College audiences, and are always 
cordially welcome. 

E. W. Gans, '87, president of the Alumni association, writes of 
his work in connection with the War Trade Board of Washington. 
It would be difficult to define just what the work is, but every one 
who knows Mr. Gans knows that, wherever he is, he is useful and 
helpful. 

The Quarterly has learned with deep regret of the serious illness 
of Mr. W. N. Pickerill, '60, while at St. Petersburg, Florida. Mr. 
Pickerill's interest in and loyalty to the college have never wavered 
or lessened — a stimulating example of alumnal acquaintance and es- 
teem w^hich should be more general. 



Personal Mention 53 

The present semester finds in the freshman class, George Dick- 
son, grandson of W. N. Pickerill, '60; Marian, daughter of Otis 
Webster Green, '90, and Gertrude Johnson Green, '92; and Philip, 
son of D. C. Brown, '79, and Jessie Christian Brown, '97. 

Carl Barnett, '10, has received an appointment to Y. M. C. A. 
work. He goes to San Antonio for a few weeks, and then will be 
one of twenty men to see oversea service immediately. Mr. Bar- 
nett's church at Brazil voted him a leave of absence and several 
months' full salary as a token of their appreciation of his services. 

John G. McKay, lawyer of Indianapolis, known as an athlete 
and football coach at Butler College and other places, one time 
state tennis champion, has gone to Fort Omaha. He has enlisted in 
the balloon section of the aviation corps. He will be at Fort Omaha 
eight weeks in a training camp, and presumably will then go to 
France for service. 

Professor A, K. Rogers, formerly of Butler College, now of the 
philosophical department of Yale University, visited friends in 
Irvington on April 1, While in the city he was guest of honor at 
a luncheon given by Professor Coleman. Mr. and Mrs. Rogers 
have built a home in New Haven. Mrs. Rogers is actively interested 
in a reformatory for women located at that place. 

We are pleased to place in this issue a new advertisement, that 
of the Houghton, Mififlin Company, of a book they are on the eve of 
bringing out. The author, John Iden Kautz, a former student of 
Butler College, is a son of F. R. Kautz, '87, and Mrs. Harriet Iden 
Kautz, ex-. His letters in the last Quarterly have evoked much very 
pleasant comment and have given for the new volume a spirit of 
anticipation. 

Captain Richard George, who attended Butler College, 1911-1913, 
graduated from Purdue University with the class of 1916, in the 
chemical engineering department. He entered the second Officers' 
Training Camp at Fort Benjamin Harrison. At the end of a month 
he was sent to Fortress Monroe to take work in the Coast Artillery 
Camp, from which camp he received his captaincy. Since Decern- 



54 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

ber 13, 1917, he has been stationed at Fort Hamilton, New York. 
He is probably on his way now to France. 

Elvin Daniels, '14, sails for France this month to engage in Y. M. 
C. A. secretarial work. Mr. Daniels leaves a prosperous work at 
Kentland, Indiana, which he is largely responsible for. We quote 
from The Community of February, 1918; "Through the efforts of 
Rev. Elvin Daniels and other energetic and broad-visioned men of 
Kentland, a community house was recently built. Four years ago 
a survey of local conditions was made and the real needs of the com- 
munity ascertained. Then the campaign for a general meeting place 
started and finally proved successful. Kentland's community house 
is a finely finished structure, size 60 feet by 90 feet. It has been 
deeded to the local school board and is under the management of a 
board of directors, composed of the superintendent of schools, a 
member appointed by the school board, and five of the largest con- 
tributors to the building fund. Money for its maintenance is secured 
from paid admissions to athletic and other gatherings, for the com- 
munity house includes a splendid gymnasium as well as a large audi- 
torium. In passing it is interesting to note that during the past year 
Kentland developed a state championship football team." 



Marriages 

Smith-Layton. — On January 10, in Indianapolis, were married 
K. Wesley Smith, ex-, and Miss Mae Layton. Mr. and Mrs. Smith 
are at home in Indianapolis. 

Ransom-Marsh.— On January 16, were married at Christ 
Church, Indianapolis, Lieutenant Robert Bundy Ransom and Miss 
Helen Marsh, ex-'20. 

Wright-Gay. — On February 2, at Indianapolis, were married 
Lieutenant Clifford Ruskin Wright, of Camp Taylor, and Miss Dor- 
othy Gay, ex-. 

George-Graham.— On March 1, at New York City, were mar- 
ried by Rev. J. C. Day, formerly of Irvington, Captain Richard 



Births ' 55 

George, ex-' 14, and Miss Mary Ellen Graham, '14. Captain George, 
of the United States Coast Artillery, will soon leave for France. 
Mrs. George is at home with her mother, in Indianapolis. 

Oldham-Forsythe. — On March 14, at Indianapolis, were mar- 
ried Clarence E. Oldham, '15, and Miss Gladys Marie Forsythe. Mr. 
and Mrs. Oldham are at home in Irvington. 

Caldwell-Felt. — On March 23, in Irvington, were married 
Howard Clay Caldwell, '15, and Miss Elsie Rebecca Felt, '17. Mr. 
and Mrs. Caldwell are living in Kokomo, Indiana. 

Montgomery-Hall. — On March 28, were married in Irvington, 
at the home of the bride's parents, Mr. Robert Hall, '91, and Mrs. 
Orpha Jeffries Hall, ex-, Mr. Walter Henry Montgomery and Miss 
Marjorie Hall, '15. They are at home at 129 Downey Avenue. 

Freeland-Parker. — On April 7, at Denver, Colorado, were 
married Dr. Haynes Freeland and Miss Mary Parker, '14. Dr. 
and Mrs. Freeland are at home in Denver. 



Births 

Stephens. — On January 25, at Morristown, Indiana, to Mr. Fer- 
ris Stephens, '15, and Mrs. Beulah Burkhardt Stephens, ex-' 18, a 
son — James Clayton. 

KiRKHOFF. — On January 26, at Irvington, to Mr. Louis N. Kirk- 
hoff, '16, and Mrs. Ruth Cunningham Kirkhoff, '15, a daughter — 
Barbara Jean. 

Davison. — On February 22, at Spencer, Indiana, to Mr. Frank E. 
Davison, '14, and Mrs. Davison, a daughter- — Clara Frances. 

Offutt. — On February 28, at Greenfield, Indiana, to Mr. Sam- 
uel J. Offutt, '02, and Mrs. Nell Reed Offutt, '11, a daughter- 
Elizabeth Reed. 

Davis. — On March 10, at Irvington, to Mr. Charles B. Davis, 
ex-, and Mrs. Maude Martin Davis, '12, a son — John Mark. 



56 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

LooMis. — On March 10, at West Lafayette, Indiana, to Profes- 
sor N. Edward Loomis and Mrs. Lucile Didlake Loomis, '08, a son 
— Arthur Hale. 

LovELL. — On March 16, at Zion City, Illinois, to Mr. Ormond E. 
Lovell, '17, and Mrs. Lovell, a son — Robert Edwin. 



Deaths 

Blount. — Dora Grace Blount, '87, died at her home in Irving- 
ton, on January 20. Miss Blount was daughter of the Rev. B. M. 
Blount, '59, and Mrs. Blount. To the aged mother and to the sisters, 
Mrs. Erastus S. Conner, ex-'85, and Mrs. Josie Warman, the Quar- 
terly sends its sincere sympathy in their bereavement. 

To some lives God gives it to pass the measure of their earthly 
being in retirement, revealing their deeper nature seldom and in 
silence nourishing their soul on the spirit gifts of His world. It is 
of such the poet sang. 

Their daily teachers had been woods and rills, 

The silence that is in the starry sky, 

The sleep that is among the lonely hills. 

It is such the heart of Nature draws to itself, — 

This child I to myself will take ; 

She shall be mine, and I will make 

A lady of my own. 

The stars of midnight shall be dear 

To her ; and she shall lean her ear 

In many a secret place 

Where rivulets dance their wayward round, 

And beauty born of murmuring sound 

Shall pass into her face. 

It is they whose mind and heart are fresh and pure in secret ways, 
even as a woodland flower hiding its sweetness except to him who 
lifts the encircling leaves with tender touch. 



Deaths 57 

Such was the life of Grace Blount — reticent, living quietly the full- 
ness of her soul, yet giving of its measure in helpfulness to under- 
standing hearts and human need. Hers was a poetic mind seeking 
the beautiful wherever she might find it, loving it most in a child, 
in the resurrection life of the spring with its glad song of birds, its 
greening blade and opening flower, and in man's interpretation of 
life and thought through the world's rich heritage of books. More 
and more as days passed by her soul lifted itself in striving to lean 
on the bright and beautiful. 

Children were her delight and to them she gave largely of her 
love. It was her lot to open the long road of learning to many child 
friends whose tender thought and affection accorded her are fitting 
commemoration of the sympathy and understanding with which she 
helped them on their early way. Child life awaking to maturity 
called forth quick response. In her own words, "There is nothing 
so lovely as a young girl." 

The outdoors was the home of her spirit, calling with irresistible 
voice to cast aside the cares of earth under the wide and starry 
sky, where winds blow free and where flowers bespeak God's mes- 
sages to quicken and bring rest. Birds were her delight. To her 
they were "April poems that God has dowered with wings." 
Throughout her life she made of them a careful study, wooed them 
to her home, knew their names and calls, and wandered away from 
the trails of men to seek them out in their hidden haunts that she 
might know them the better. Spring was the loved season of the 
year because it brings life again and hope and gladness to all the 
world. And of the spring months, April was the favored one with 
its "upward impulse in everything." She found it truth that "Look 
up and be glad is the law of spring" ; and with the poet she rejoiced 
in the coming of 

. . . happy April, fair maid of sun and showers, 
With her heart filled with music, and both her hands 
with flowers ! 



For- 



April is here ! 

There's a song in the maple, thrilling and new ; 

There's a flash of wings of heaven's own blue ; 



58 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

There's a veil of green on the nearer hills ; 

There's a burst of rapture in woodland rills; 

There are stars in the meadow dropped here and there ; 

There's a breath of arbutus in the air; 

There's a dash of rain as if flung in jest; 

There's an arch of color spanning the west; 

April is here ! 

Not unheeded was Ruskin's admonition, "Make for yourselves 
nests of beautiful thoughts . . . treasure houses not made with 
hands for your souls to dwell in." Her mind was a dwelling place 
of fair forms. Books were to her as king's treasures and on them 
her inner life was fed. She loved them for their noble truths and 
high thoughts and she made them her own through long association 
and knowledge of them. A conscientious student of their hidden 
riches, she learned to lean on them and to count them unfailing 
friends. 

To speak intimately of Grace Blount is to do her injustice unless 
one make mention of her loyalty to those who numbered themselves 
among her friends. College days opened up for the years to come 
rich friendships, which, given sacred place, were an inspiration as 
they wove themselves into the fabric of her life and made it glad. 
Yet even as she received in fellowship, so did she return. Such a 
tribute did a friend bring: "She was always so kind and cheery and 
genuine that I loved to meet her and talk to her." She was un- 
swervingly true to those she loved, nor was any sacrifice too great 
to make for them. Those whose life had reached its sunset hours 
found quick sympathy and tender service at her hand. Her con- 
ception of filial duty was high and she did not fail in its fulfillment. 
The church was an object of her devotion and in its various min- 
istries she found expression. She responded ever to human need 
as she saw it, remembering the injunction, "Let not thy left hand 
know what thy right hand doeth." 

Those who waited upon her passing find comfort in the April lines 
she loved: 

O soul of the springtime, its light and its breath, 
Bring warmth to this coldness, bring life to this death; 



Deaths 59 

Renew the great miracle, let us behold 

The stone from the mouth of the sepulchre rolled, 

And nature, like Lazarus, rise, as of old ! 

******* 

. . . in blooming of flower and budding of tree 

The symbols and types of our destiny see ; 

The life of the springtime, the life of the whole, 

And, as sun to the sleeping earth, love to the soul ! 

An Appreciation. 

"And yet thy heart 
The lowliest duties on herself did lay." 

We are often halted in life's warfare by the question, "What 
should be the measure of a man's life?" Surely not worldly success, 
though that is a satisfaction; not the admiration of the public, 
though that is inspiring; not the praise of friends, though that is 
gratifying. To fill well wherever life has placed one — that is a 
standard by which to be judged. "She hath done what she could," 
is an ideal to be striven for. 

There died in January a member of the class of '87, who had lived 
a quiet life, doing the "daily round of trivial tasks" faithfully and 
well, giving generously of herself and her means where it was 
needed. A joy was she in the home, a help in her church, a pleasure 
and comfort to her friends, not reaching out in a big way to touch 
many interests, for it was her nature to shun prominence. Each 
day she did what she could. 

She loved the simple things of the world — the flowers, the woods, 
the sky. She loved gentle influences — kindly souls, good books. She 
kept in close touch with the best in literature ; she made the great 
writers her daily companions. 

With marked heroism she accepted the fatal illness against which 
she struggled for months, never complaining, never making extra 
work, grateful for the little things done for her — a brave, true, 
sweet, generous spirit was Grace Blount. J. G. 



60 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

TiBBOTT. — Osmund H. Tibbott, a student of Butler in the later 
seventies and early eighties, died in Washington, D. C, on the morn- 
ing of January 20, 1918, following a surgical operation. Pneumonia 
was the immediate cause of death. 

After teaching a few years in Indiana, Mr. Tibbott entered the 
United States government service in the early nineties, and in De- 
cember, 1893, married Miss Elizabeth Winship, of Washington, 
D. C. There are two sons, Edward Winship, a student at Cornell, 
and Lloyd, a student of the University of Pennsylvania. After go- 
ing to Washington, Mr. Tibbott continued his education, graduating 
in law at Georgetown University. For three years he served as 
assistant auditor in the Philippine Islands, under Governor Taft; 
and since his return to the States in 1905, has been connected with 
the Bureau of Forestry. 

Osmund Tibbott was a great lover of the out-of-doors. All plant 
life seemed to respond affectionately to his sympathetic touch. His 
flowers were the most radiant, his grapes the most luscious, and his 
vegetables the most crisp and finely flavored. He loved order and 
beauty, and utilized the precious hours away from office duties in 
beautifying his home and its surroundings. He was full of the com- 
munity spirit, and always exerted an influence for the highest and 
best ideals wherever he dwelt. 

Each one of those who have known him and loved him best are 
saying with the poet, 

"I cannot think, I will not say 
That he is gone — 
He's just away." 

Toon.— Henry Clarence Toon, ex-' 15, died at the Great Lakes 
Naval Training Station, Great Lakes, Illinois, January 21, 1918, 
at the age of twenty-seven years. The funeral services were con- 
ducted by the writer at the home of a brother, C. F. Toon, 438 
Colorado avenue, Indianapolis, January 25. Interment was in the 
family lot at Buck Creek Chapel cemetery. 

We were the best of friends, — we were more than that, we were 
chums. Boys who go through high school together, attend the same 
college, live and eat together, should be the closest of friends. We 



Deaths 61 

sympathized with each other, for we were placed in somewhat sim- 
ilar circumstances; we rejoiced with each other; we were interested 
in each other's welfare. The afternoons took us both to manual 
labor in order to make our way, and in the evening we sat and ate 
and told of our experiences, and tried to find the humor in each 
other's experience. 

I was laughing most of the time, for Clarence saw the humor in 
everything and gave the fullest expression of his appreciation of it. 
He did not always get his lessons, our baseball team did not always 
win, his work was at times tedious, and his health was not the best, 
but there was a contagious enthusiasm about him which kept us all 
smiling, a cheerfulness abounding in his industry which made us all 
hopeful. His was a soul that was ordinary, yet big. He inspired 
others who went out and obtained prizes and honors and popularity. 
He himself sought none. Many of his fellows tried to explain the 
approach to divine truth by well-worn theories, but Clarence's re- 
ligion was 

"The heart benevolent and kind the most resembles God." 

When the war broke out, it was his ambition to enter the first 
training camp, but the physical requirement was too rigid. After 
some months of waiting, in which we felt as if there must be some- 
thing for him to do, he gained admission to the radio department 
of the navy and v/as assigned to the Great Lakes Training Station. 
The work and exposure overtaxed him. The spirit was willing but 
the flesh was weak, and the end came as a surprise to us all. He 
went to his death as heroically and with just as sacrificial a spirit 
as did any on the field of battle. We honor him the same. 

A short time after he was assigned to his training station he asked 
us not to forget that he was among the "Butler boys" in service, and 
asked that he be remembered as one doing his "bit." Butler has not 
forgotten her first son who fell in the struggle for freedom. On 
Founder's Day when the service flag was raised again with its addi- 
tional stars, 150 in all, a gold one was placed in the middle of the 
field. That is his star, a silent witness to an unselfish and a noble 

life. "He hath done what he could." 

Stanley Sellick, '16. 



62 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Johnson.— Katherine Griffin Johnson, wife of Emsley W. John- 
son, died on January 29, after a very brief illness. She was the 
daughter of Dr. Loyal B. Griffin, of Greenfield, Indiana, and had 
taught for several years in her native county before entering But- 
ler, where she graduated in 1903. She received a degree also, from 
tlie University of Chicago the following year. Afterward she 
taught in the high schools at Maxwell, Summitville, and Greenfield. 

It was while she was attending Butler that she met and became 
engaged to Emsley Wright Johnson, of the class of 1900. She 
leaves, besides her husband, two children — Mardenna, aged seven, 
and Emsley Wright Johnson, Jr., aged four. Since her marriage, 
Mrs. Johnson had lived in Indianapolis, where she took an active in- 
terest in things educational and literary and had gathered about her 
a large circle of friends. To these and to her old Butler associates 
her sudden taking away has brought deep sorrow : — sorrow and 
sympathy for the little family who need her so sorely, and sorrow 
and regret that so admirable and useful a woman should have gone 
from us. 

Katherine Johnson's activities embraced all the wide range of in- 
terests in which the ambitious woman of to-day finds herself in- 
volved. She was fully awake to the importance of everything re- 
lating to the public schools. Owing to her sympathetic and intel- 
ligent participation in her husband's affairs, she had a clearer un- 
derstanding of politics than the average woman. To her literary 
and club work she devoted the same ardent application which en- 
deared her to her professors in college days. 

Her intellectual pursuits, however, failed to distract her atten- 
tions from her obligations as mother and housewife. She was never 
so happy as when absorbed in the skillful handling of some house- 
hold task. To the fashioning of a dainty frock for Mardenna, and 
to the thrifty occupation of canning and preserving she brought the 
same blithe and capable spirit. In all the varied and essential lines 
of housekeeping and homemaking her energy and personality 
counted for much. 

Our friend had many agreeable qualities, — a companionable and 
friendly nature ; a contagious zest for pleasures of the right sort ; 
appreciation of music, drama, and literature; and a fund of prac- 



Deaths 63 

tical "good sense." Above all, however, she possessed that at- 
tribute so pleasant to live with, — an equable and cheerful tempera- 
ment. In these days of "nerves" and hysteria, or boredom and dis- 
content, it was a pleasure and a satisfaction to find her always the 
same, — happy and absorbed and enjoying, to the fullest extent, life 
in all its complex relations. 

Louise Brown Atherton, ex-'09. 

Nichols. — Mrs. Mary Nichols, of Irvington, died on February 
15, at the Methodist Hospital, Indianapolis. 

The most of us, I dare say, when we remember our college, recall 
to mind certain personalities which influenced us during those by- 
gone days. And it is the happy association we have had with choice 
spirits that remains most dear to us throughout all our life. 

When the news came on Saturday morning, February 16, that 
Mrs. Mary Elizabeth Nichols had died the night before, after a 
short illness of pneumonia, there came to her old friends a sense of 
a great loss. And she had hundreds, yes, thousands of friends far 
and wide throughout the land. 

Mrs. Nichols, or "Aunt Mary," as so many came to know her, 
moved from New Carlisle, in northern Indiana, to Irvington away 
back in 1884, bringing with her her only child, John D. Nichols, 
who later entered college and graduated in 1890, and is now a suc- 
cessful physician in Indianapolis as he was a successful student and 
athlete in college days. Mrs. Nichols opened up a boarding house 
very soon after coming to Irvington and subsequently built a de- 
lightful home for herself on the southwest corner of University 
and Downey avenues. For several years this was the home of girls 
only, but many others came here to take their meals. It was a 
favorite gathering place and it was a merry home for Butler stu- 
dents, surrounded by a good clean atmosphere. After her son's 
graduation, her brother, Mr. George Brown, and his good wife, 
purchased the home from Mrs. Nichols and continued the board- 
ing house, maintaining the same traditions of helpfulness and good 
care for all who came within its reach. Then came the death of 
Mrs. Brown, a great sorrow to the hosts whom she, too, had helped, 
while she presided over this home. Mrs. Nichols at once came to 



64 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

the assistance of her brother and resumed her old place in the man- 
agement of the boarding house. She failed rapidly at the last, but 
she was faithful in every detail of hospitality to the very last bit of 
her strength. 

Who can measure the usefulness of her life? A multitude she 
has helped. Unnumbered little deeds of kindnesses unknown to 
any but the recipients and herself are to be set to her credit. Al- 
ways sympathetic, ready to serve, industrious, frugal, and con- 
scientious. She was a rare soul. 

Just after her death a letter, to a mutual friend, came from one 
of her "boys" of these later days, enclosing another to her. His 
request was that the letter be read to Aunt Mary if she were living, 
but if not to return it to him unopened. She had been, he said, a 
mother to him. And that sentiment voices the feeling of many an 
old student of Butler College. Men and women now in middle life 
and carrying responsibilities and burdens of position think of this 
faithful little woman, fine Christian that she was, with the rev- 
erence they pay to their mother. She has done a great part for 
many a one of us. We loved her in life. We cherish her memory 
now that she has gone, and we know that it is well with her, for she 
is numbered with that great host of those who have served their 
Master well while here below, and are considered worthy of that 
most welcome praise in all the universe, "Well done, good and 

faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." 

A Friend. 

Good. — Lieutenant John Charles Good, '17, died of pneumonia on 
March 30, at Camp Dodge, Iowa, and was buried from his home in 
Indianapolis on April 3. 

Biitler suffers another sorrow in the loss of Lieutenant Charles 
Good and another gold star appears on our service flag, the roll of 
honor. 

"Charlie" was a whole-souled, democratic fellow, who played 
square in any game, and put his energy where it counted the most. 
Butler's loss is great and his many friends grieve that the genial 
comrade has gone on without the chance of seeing the active service 



Deaths 65 

for which he longed, but they may gladly know he would have met 
any crisis well and given his best to the service. As it is, he saw 
his duty and did it well. 

Mingled with our sorrow is our pride in one of Butler's loyal sons 
who has given all that he had to the service which called him and 
gave it gladly. He was one who did not lose sight of the great truth 
that their first duty is not to make a living, but to live — and to die, 
if need be — in the defense of the flag and all that it stands for. — The 
Butler Collegian. 

Carver. — Mrs. Mary Metcalf Carver died at her home in Irving- 
ton on March 30, and was buried at Crown Hill. 

Mrs. Carver's death was not unexpected, coming as it did after 
a long illness. Early last fall her strength began to fail before an 
attack of acute anemia. Without suffering, she gradually grew 
weaker and finally fell asleep on the night of March 29-30, passing 
out of life so gently that her going seemed hardly to mark a change. 
Mrs. Carver was seventy-four years old and until very recently was 
one of the most active women in the community of Irvington. She 
was a leader in many of the organizations of the Downey Avenue 
Christian Church and one of the most faithful members of the con- 
gregation. For many years her house was the home of a large group 
of men and women, including at most times students and professors 
of Butler College. No one who came into contact with Mrs. Carver 
in this way could fail to be profoundly influenced by her piety, her 
simplicity, and her wonderful capacity for effective work. Mrs. 
Carver was a student of the old North Western Christian Univer- 
sity in 1866. Her name appears as Mary Metcalf on the old records 
of Ryland T. Brown's classes in botany and physiolog}^ Her 
daughter Lola was also a student of Butler College. 



Our Correspondence 

Florence Hosbrook Wallace, '08 : I hope these times will not 
put a stop to the Quarterly. Every one looks forward to its com- 
ing. 

Nellie Kern, '00, Provincetown, Mass. : I am teaching Eng- 
lish in this quaint old town on the tip end of Cape Cod. The air 
the sky, the water, the sand-dunes, are wonderful. Our harbor is 
almost as beautiful as the Bay of Naples and the sunsets are quite 
as magnificent. It is a place dear to artists and writers. But it is 
a long, long way from Indiana where my best friends are. How- 
ever, the Alumnal Quarterly will bring news of them. 

Samuel H. Shank, '92 : The Quarterly did not arrive till some 
time in December, when I received both numbers and they were 
verily "devoured." I hope that you are receiving the proper sup- 
port from all the friends of Butler, as some of us at least are deeply 
grateful to you for the pleasure you afford us. I would be willing 
to double the price rather than be deprived of this pleasure. 

My visit during commencement was one of the brightest spots 
in many years of my life, and I wonder if you who are constantly 
enjoying these blessed associations can appreciate them as we who 
are less fortunate. 

I suppose that to-night the clans are gathering for Founder's 
Day, and I hope that new courage may be given those who are 
carrying on the work. Keep the vision bright in the mind's eye and 
it will surely manifest itself to the world. 

I hope the commencement this year will be as delightful to all 
who may attend as it was last year to me. 

Kindly remember me to Tom Howe, Eva Butler, Professor 
Bruner and other members of the faculty. 



Attention 

The annual alumni fee of one dollar for 191 7-' 18 was due October 
1. Will you kindly remit as soon as possible to the treasurer, 

Carl Van Winkle, 
Butler College, Indianapolis. 




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Butler Alumnal 
Quarterly 




COMMENCEMENT NUMBER 



JULY, 1918 
Vol. VII No. 2 



INDIANAPOLIS 



Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Vol. VII INDIANAPOLIS, IND., JULY, 1918 No. 2 



ISSUED JANUARY, APRIL, JULY, OCTOBER 

Published by the Alumnal Association of Butler College, Indianapolis, Ind. 

Subscription price, one dollar per year. 

Entered as second-class matter, March 26, 1912, at the post office at Indian- 
apolis, Ind., under the Act of March 3, 1879. 

Officers of the Alumni Association — President, Mrs. Jessie Christian Brown, 
'97; First Vice-President, William G. Irwin, '89; Second Vice-Presi- 
dent, Lieutenant Justus W. Paul, '15; Treasurer, Carl Van Winkle, '14. 

Secretary and Editor of the Butler Alumnal Quarterly — Katharine M. Gray- 
don, '78. 



And David rose up early in the morning 
and left the sheep; . . and he came 
to the trench as the host was going forth 
to fight and shouted for the battle. 

—I Samuel XVII, 20 



Commencement Address 

NEW LIGHT UPON OLD VALUES 

By Dr. William Douglas Mackenzie 
President of Hartford Theological Seminary 

It is indeed a great honor and a very great delight on this beau- 
tiful morning in these most lovely surroundings to be here. It 
makes a commencement address seem almost like taking a holiday, 
to be speaking under these trees and with that beautiful stretch of 
ground in front of one. 

We are living through a day which long centuries after this will 
be remembered as one of the greatest days in the history of human 
nature. You of the graduating class entered college just as the war 
began. You are going out into the world just as America goes fully 
into her tremendous task, and through those four years you have 
had the unusual experience which none of those who preceded you 
for two generations have had, of being compelled to read, to study, 
to think, to live amid quiet academic surroundings, with the echoes 
of a world tumult coming in upon your ears and the terrors of a 
world agony invading your hearts, and if at first you were too young 
and inexperienced to understand all that it meant, I know with the 
ripening processes of those four years that the continual unfolding 
of the meaning of the world's life to-day has taken your hearts and 
minds perhaps higher and deeper than those of many preceding 
graduating classes ; for we live in an amazed world, — a world 
aroused and amazed. 

When we look beyond the four years into our recent past it seems 
as if we had been living in quiet and easy days. The busiest man, 
the most burdened man of five years ago, as he looks back, almost 
sighs and pines for the quiet of those busy days and the sense of 
ease even in those crowded hours of life. To-day we are aroused 
and amazed. We are living more intensely; we are looking upon 
life more deeply; \\t are trying to understand human nature 
thoroughly. For, ladies and gentlemen, the war is something much 
more than the ordinary war that concerns only the fortunes of two 



70 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

peoples and a slight readjustment of their relations to one another. 
The war is shaking the world; the war is compelling us all to deal 
with human nature as such. It is human nature that is, as it were, 
at war with itself. It is struggling through this terrific experience 
to understand itself. Human kind is compelled to go to the founda- 
tions of things, tear away the superstructures of easy convention- 
alism and hazy superstition and look down fearlessly and afresh, 
aroused and amazed; to look down into the very foundations and 
ask questions we had not dared to ask and face answers and possi- 
bilities we had not dared to face before. 

I propose in a very brief address on a very vast subject to say a 
few words on each of four things on which we are getting new light 
upon old values ; four directions with which we of the educated 
classes, we of the college and academic world, are concerned. I do 
not wish to speak merely of the causes of the war or the issues of 
the war or the methods of the war, except in so far as these concern 
us here in an effort to understand more deeply what human nature 
is and whither human nature trends. 

In the first place, we have had a new light thrown upon the mean- 
ing of education, — of the disciplined mind. The war of experts is 
creating now a world of experts. The stress of the war has com- 
pelled men and women to penetrate into regions which hitherto 
seemed remote from anything like military interest or military value. 
They are finding that in order to be efficient in warfare, on the 
dreadful fields of Flanders and among the poppy fields of France, 
they must penetrate into remote regions of knowledge and of 
organization, of industrial activity and social interest, — penetrate 
far into them and get a deeper grasp of them than they had before, 
and draw them all together into one great central interest, draw 
them all together to create one great mass of national efficiency, and 
in every direction that kind of work cannot be done superficially; 
it cannot be done carelessly. The man or woman who thinks that 
he or she can know this or that easily, and who in ordinary times 
would have escaped with a superficial knowledge and worked out a 
struggling little existence on very poor furnishings, — that man or 
woman now who would undertake anything seriously for the gov- 
ernment or for the nation must come to a standard of efficiency, a 



Commencement Address 71 

standard of knowledge, a standard of power whose test is the war 
and whose supreme qualification is the fitness of that person in do- 
ing that work to serve the country in the hour of its great need. 
We therefore have imposed upon us a new standard of mental dis- 
cipline, of personal efficiency. This is going to react upon our col- 
leges, upon our universities, upon all our institutions. It may even 
get down to little Johnnie in the kindergarten, and some day per- 
haps the supreme law of the kindergarten will not be, "Now, John- 
nie, you have been working at that a long time, — about seven min- 
utes. What would you like to do next?" Perhaps we are coming 
to the time when little Johnnie must learn that he must work twelve 
minutes, — five minutes more — even when he is tired, in order that 
his will may be developed and that he may learn the difficult task of 
self-control and self-direction, even against what little Johnnie 
would like to do. Perhaps we shall get down to that length ; but at 
any rate, it stands to reason, it is obviously inevitable, that among 
the higher schools of the land and throughout our colleges and 
universities there is henceforth to be created a new standard of 
power, of thoroughness. We are going to get away from letting 
men and women easily through their examinations and giving them 
marks that are fixed rather by good nature than by accurate and 
stern adjustment to facts. We are going to have a way of dealing 
with our whole task of education that is imposed upon us by this 
world-wide demand for accuracy, for the attainment of something 
like expert knowledge and efficiency in those things which a man 
or woman undertakes as his life task and contribution to the gen- 
eral good. 

Now, when we have said that, we are face to face with another 
fact, namely, that the development of education not merely disci- 
plines the mind, but forms the character ; not merely forms the char- 
acter of the individual, but establishes the character and directs the 
spirit of the whole nation. What the world is most amazed at just 
now is the difference of one nation from the other nations of the 
world; the difference of its character, of its spirit, of the direction 
of its policy. The world does not deny, — at least those people in 
the world who know anything about it do not deny, — tliat in that 
empire of Germany there are many excellent and beautiful char- 



72 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

acters, that there are many men and women of piety and sincerity, 
and simple, pure earnestness of soul ; but what they find is that the 
character of the people of the whole nation as it expresses itself 
outwardly to the world has been imposed upon that nation by cer- 
tain standards and methods of education and by a control of the 
training of the young by those who are in supreme military author- 
ity over the people. 

That brings us to our second subject, namely, that we are not 
only face to face with a revaluation of education as it is a discipline 
of the mind and the personality, but we are face to face with edu- 
cation based upon a revaluation of its moral results. We have al- 
ways known that education bore upon character. We realize now 
how deeply it bears on character. We have always known that the 
nation that selects its destiny and the direction of its history, and 
then trains its people in that direction, is training their character 
to aim at that at which the nation aims. We knew it vaguely; we 
knew it hazily. We applied that principle somewhat superficially, 
somewhat easily, in our own land. We had many educationalists 
calling upon us to reconsider our constitution and to deal more 
deeply with the training of our people in character and in spirit, 
but somehow the matter was still remote from the general thought 
and taken by most of us easily. 

What do we find across the water? We find that the German 
Empire formed certain definite conceptions about what it is to be a 
nation, what it is to be an empire, what it is to be a people among 
all the peoples of the world, and then, having formed that concep- 
tion, proceeded to impose it upon the whole people through the pro- 
cess of education; for the military authorities of that empire were 
not content to deal with citizens when they came to the age of en- 
trance into the army and deal with them in the barracks and on the 
drill ground and on the rifle and gun ranges and in their regimental 
life. It was not content with that. It knew that into those bar- 
racks, upon those drill grounds, would come young men who had 
already had their characters almost completely formed, and that 
those characters would remain with them, and that the spirit they 
brought there would be brought to bear upon the meaning of their 
life there, and that they would pass out of the army into their citizen 



Commencement Address 73 

life carrying with them the standards of criticism which were given 
to them before they entered the army. The conclusion was obvious, 
that the training of the boys and girls must begin very early and be 
all directed toward giving them those convictions, building up in 
them that spirit, filling them with that national purpose which they 
must take with them into the army, so that when they became sol- 
diers of the Kaiser they shall know already and have learned for 
many years what to be a soldier of the Kaiser means and in what 
direction Germany is moving. Accordingly they went down into 
education and the policy of training their children with a view to the 
creation of a great armed people. How did they do this ? They did 
it, first of all, of course, through the spirit and lips of their teach- 
ers, themselves drilled thoroughly, severely, constantly, not only in 
universities but in their advanced normal schools, for this very pur- 
pose, and they did it through the textbooks that were used. If a 
book of geography had maps in it that showed in Argentine, in 
Brazil, certain settlements as German colonies, certain settlements 
in the United States marked as German colonies ; if those books 
were put into the hands of the young children and their world out- 
look was colored with German colonies in different parts of the 
world; if they were taught, as they were, that Belgium was a part 
of Germany that for a time has been under foreign government; if 
these and other forms of instruction in geography and in the dis- 
tribution of the nations to-day, — if that was poured into the chil- 
dren's minds, it all opened up to them and established the standard 
by which they were to interpret the place of Germany in the world, 
and not only the place to-day but the destiny of Germany in the 
generations to come. These are only little illustrations of the 
thoroughness with which this work was done of giving a direction 
to the thought and giving specific quality to the character and pur- 
pose of a whole people by means even of education in the earlier 
stages. 

Now, a further theory was worked out; for, after all, every na- 
tion lives on its philosophy of life. Every nation lives on that form 
of philosophy which ultimately is the pervading religion of the peo- 
ple; and there was given to the people a certain philosophy of na- 
tional life from which this war is the logical deduction, — of which 



74 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

it is the logical expression. The first step in that philosophy is this : 
that every nation exists, every government exists, in order to enable 
the nation to secure self-expression and self-development; and self- 
expression and self-development are words that must be used in 
their largest and most indefinite sense. Every nation that is healthy, 
that is growing in its numbers, that is full of energy, looks forward 
indefinitely to an expansion that is without limit, and every nation 
has a right to cherish the hope and the purpose of that self-expres- 
sion and that self -development in a large and in an unbounded fu- 
ture. In the second place, the chief means of self-expression and 
self-development of a nation ultimately is through its military con- 
trol over itself and over other peoples. It may become necessary, 
and therefore right, for a nation that is seeking self-development to 
take possession of the territories of a weaker and a decadent race 
and fill up those territories with its own virility and occupy them 
for its own national purposes. Therefore, when you look upon the 
necessity of an army in relation to the self-expression and self-de- 
velopment of a people, you must confront the fact that war is not a 
war of armies ; it is a war of peoples. This amazing doctrine has 
been laid down for the last twenty years or more, explicitly, not 
only by the philosophers and historians, but by the military author- 
ities of that empire. It is a nation that goes to war with nations, 
and, therefore, you are not at war with the soldiers of Belgium ; you 
are at war with the people of Belgium ; you are not at war with the 
soldiers of France ; you are at war with the people of France ; you 
are not at war with the little contemptible army of Great Britain; 
you are at war with the whole people of Great Britain ; and there- 
fore you have a right to do to the people whatever you have a right 
to do to a soldier. If it is necessary to kill the people as it is to kill 
the soldiers, then you must kill them. Further, in the development 
of a nation under military control, there cannot possibly be any 
limit prescribed to the use of whatever instruments it finds neces- 
sary, and the taking advantage of any occasions that occur in the 
history of the relations of that people with other peoples ; therefore, 
there is no limit, for instance, to the knowledge that you must try to 
get of the resources and of the military strength and of the inward 
policy and the direction of character of neighboring nations or na- 



Commencement Address 75 

tions at the other side of the world; therefore, you must set up great 
offices in your capital city, and there you must have men utterly 
skilled, utterly trained, utterly efficient in their knowledge of all 
parts of the world, and they must seek into all parts of the world in 
order that they may know the facts. Moreover, since war is in- 
evitable some day, they must seek out long before war is declared to 
prepare within that country for the making of a successful war. 
Now, that, of course, means something very much more than that 
somewhat innocent claim that every nation has made and the no- 
blest nations have acted upon, that you must have a secret service ; 
that you must get what information you can about other peoples, 
about their military strength and methods. It goes far beyond that. 
There is nothing in a people more characteristic than the fearless- 
ness with which they draw conclusions from premises which they 
have laid down, and the conclusion to be drawn from the right every 
government has to know about every other government and people, 
is that you may use any of your citizens in any part of the world, 
in any relations in which they stand, to get that information ; and 
the result of that is the creation of a world-wide system of indi- 
vidual treachery. Nothing to my mind has been more astounding, 
more horrifying, than the revelation of this universal world-wide 
system of treachery that has been established by one government. 
You can trace it through Australia, through India, through China; 
you can trace it through the United States, through Mexico at this 
hour; you can trace it through the republics of South America. I 
knew about it twenty-five or thirty years ago in my native country 
of South Africa, where my father had to meet it in some of the 
earlier stages of its development. You find it, of course, all through 
France and Belgium ; you find it sinking into and undermining the 
whole kingdom of Italy, — a system of treachery that seems a logical 
deduction from that very evil premise that every government ought 
to try to know something about the method and equipment of other 
governments of the world. Moreover, if your war is to be carried 
out thoroughly after you have prepared for it in this way, there are 
no limits to the instruments and the weapons and the methods to be 
employed. For example, if you find that it is necessary to send from 
Belgium women and children in front of your regiment against a 



76 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

British regiment, and that is the way to obtain a victory, to prevent 
your battalion at a critical moment from being shot down, your duty 
to the country, your duty to the nation, your duty as one fighting 
for success, your duty, they say, is to put those women and children 
there. And it was done, — done repeatedly. This is no mere accu- 
sation of an atrocity from the outside ; it is a revelation from the 
inside. The documents belong authoritatively to the German army 
itself that establish that as an actual method deliberately employed. 
If you find that by sinking the heart of Paris you will sink the heart 
of the French army and so gain an advantage in the battlefield and 
be more likely to win the war, then you must sink the heart of Paris. 
But, how are you going to sink the heart of Paris when your armies 
are fifty to one hundred miles away at their nearest effective point? 
The only way is to use bombs or long range guns, and you cannot 
be sure that only soldiers in the streets of Paris shall be killed by 
those things, — and that would not sink the hearts of the people very 
mxuch if you could select them and kill only those. Drop the bombs 
and let anybody be killed. Your aim is to sink the heart of Paris 
and of London and of any other city whose courage, heroism, and 
nobihty of spirit are sustaining the courage, heroism, and nobility 
of spirit of their armies in the trenches. All that, you see, is a ques- 
tion of morality. The war is forcing upon the world a reconsidera- 
tion of the ultimate standard of honor, the ultimate standard of 
right. The whole world is facing the question whether that kind of 
logic is to prevail over those standards of honor and righteousness 
and mercy that hitherto in a Christian civilization we have con- 
sidered to be supreme. How are we to down this monstrous, even 
worse than heathen system of doctrine, — for no heathen empire ever 
reasoned out of a conclusion so ruthless those early principles that 
made savage warfare even by the Assyrian Empire possible as it 
invaded the coasts of the Mediterranean? Of course, we can fall 
back upon the instinctive human consciousness of honor and right, 
that indefeasible conscience that somehow seems to lie dormant in 
human nature, awaiting only the touch and the moment and the 
spring that calls it to life, and it awakes to declare eternally the su- 
preme standards of righteousness and truth and honor. We can 
fall back upon that, and many have done so, and in our Christian 



Commencement Address 77 

nations as a whole it is true that standards of honor exist that pre- 
vent men from working out that logical conclusion. Perhaps if they 
had fifty years of training by military authority that might be over- 
come. It is conceivable, perhaps, that even Americans fifty years 
after this might do it if we had a system of education that worked 
out with that terrible consistency, with that unwearied thoroughness, 
training up our children and the nation that their individual sense 
of honor must be given up when the country commands them to do 
something, and that their individual conscience must fall down be- 
fore the dictates of necessity, uttered by the supreme authority of 
the land. Perhaps that is possible. That is what has been done 
with a noble and generous people, the people of Germany, and they 
have been, through fifty years, brought to such a position that sol- 
diers who revolt in spirit against these things, and have put their 
revolt on paper and sent the record to Mr. Gerard, the Ambassador 
to Berlin of the American republic, so that those soldiers while put- 
ting that on record, saying, "I am a Christian and hate these things," 
yet go and do it. They are under the compulsion of fifty years of 
training. Now, what is there against that with us? There is just 
that indefeasible sense of honor and self-respect in the citizen who 
has not been educated after that manner and into those ideals. I 
have been telling a story to one or two friends in the last few days 
that came to me recently, of a British officer being questioned here 
by an American soldier. He said, "Why don't you British do to the 
German prisoners what the Germans are doing to the British pris- 
oners?" And he stated some of those things that we know have 
been done, may be done to my own nephew, a prisoner there now, at 
this hour. We don't know. They are not all alike, but the best are 
very bad. He said, "Why don't you make it known that you will do 
in France and England to their prisoners just what they do to 
yours ?" The British officer said, "Yes, yes ; perhaps we ought ; but, 
don't you know, sir, we cannot do it." They cannot get themselves 
to do it ; they cannot get their men to do it ; they cannot get the Red 
Cross nurses to do it to the German wounded and German sick in 
their prison camps ; they cannot get the Americans to do it. You 
could not get my boy to go and kill German babies, although they 
told him that he would be killed himself if he refused to obey mili- 



78 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

tary authority. You could not get him to do it, and why? Because 
deep down in the hearts of our boys there is that sense of honor, 
that sense of self-respect, that sense of pitying humanity, that sense 
of generous self-sacrifxce, that will make, I trust, the best American 
soldier say, "I would rather die than obey an order to be cruel to a 
little child." 

But, that is education. That is education, and our American col- 
leges and schools are educating the citizens of America in the nur- 
ture of the Christian faith and in the standards of Christian mor- 
ality, and if our President stands to-day as the interpreter to the 
world of what the purposes of a Christian civilization ought to be, 
it is because way back in his boyhood and in his college days such as 
you have passed through, Woodrow Wilson received teachings such 
as you have received. He is interpreting the spirit of a nation whose 
education ever since its foundation has been based upon the un- 
changing and indestructible laws which flow from the spirit and will 
of Jesus Christ. 

For, after all, the German will say, "I may interpret conscience 
as I like and you can interpret it as you like," and here are two 
systems of conscience that clash there on the battlefields of Europe. 
It is not two armies, but two systems of conscience ultimately that 
are grappling at the throat of the other, to put it as a despicable 
thing into the past. Which is despicable, — their standard of na- 
tional conscience, their military ideals, or our standards of national 
conscience and our standards of military purpose and spirit? But, 
then, that is argument. They will say, "We know we are right." 
On the other hand, it does not just do to say that we know what the 
will of God is, because the German says, "I am doing the will of 
God. God is with us, and I am doing the will of God just as much as 
you are doing the will of God." And so you are thrown back upon 
the question, "How do you know what the will of God is?" We of 
the Christian faith, we, trained in Christian universities and col- 
leges, we, who belong to Christian churches, we, who have been nur- 
tured in the faith and knowledge of that one great, supreme, unique 
personality that illuminates the history of the world as no other per- 
sonality, as no other principle of life can ever dominate mankind, we 
say and we know that the character of God has been translated in 



Commencement Address 79 

a human face, and when we want to know the will of God we see 
it in the face of Jesus Christ, and we know there is no other way of 
dealing with the question of what is conscience, what is honor, or 
even what is the will of God, but to go to Him in whose face the 
answer has been eternally and openly revealed to us. We go to Him 
through whom the Eternal looked upon the human conscience and 
flooded it with the illumination and the glory of God, translated into 
the human face of Jesus Christ, and I know of nothing upon which 
we can more strongly insist than that our nation should set itself 
through the terrible lessons of this war to work out its tremendous 
problem as to how the whole nation shall consent to have its chil- 
dren trained, brought up, their characters molded, the destiny of 
America controlled from that fountain-head of truth at that throne 
of supreme authority. That is part of the work that lies behind men 
like your President, the president of your college, his trustees and 
faculty, and the trustees and faculties of all the colleges and univer- 
sities in the country. How are we going so to direct and control 
the education of America that its whole character and spirit shall 
be left, not indefinite nor its foundations uncertain, but shall be con- 
trolled and directed so as to produce in the nation the features and 
the face of Jesus Christ? 

There is another direction in which new light is coming upon old 
values. The world of America just now is not merely as I said 
aroused and amazed. Thank God it is awake, alive, active, su- 
premely active. There are men and women here who wondered 
what they talked about and what they were interested in and what 
they did four years ago. There are men and women in all our big 
cities who four years ago lived only for themselves. They may have 
belonged to their party in politics ; they may have belonged to a so- 
cial settlement group ; they may have belonged to a church ; they 
may have belonged to some institution that played a little with phi- 
lanthropy and had little streamlets of mercy flowing out over the 
wounds of humanity. They may have spent a little time and a little 
money on those things, and felt as if those were gentle ointments 
that salved their own consciences when the conscience got a little 
raw, at church on Sunday mornings w.hen the minister was un- 
usually impressive. But to-day those men and women are sacrific- 



80 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

ing themselves, some of them fortunes, some of them large salaries; 
they are sacrificing what sometimes costs more, they are sacrificing 
their time ; they are sacrificing many social interests that before 
seemed the whole of life and to-day they seem nothing at all. They 
are giving them up and they are putting in twelve hours a day work- 
ing at what? Upon the needs of humanity. They are working for 
their people ; they are working for their nation ; they are working 
for their soldier boys ; they are working for the wounded of all na- 
tions ; they are working for the devastated regions of France and 
Flanders and Servia and Roumania ; they are working for humanity 
wherever humanity is broken and bleeding and sick and like to die, 
and they are doing it gladly. One knows of men who have hardly 
had an automobile ride for weeks who would have had them every 
day in ordinary times. One knows of men and women who would 
have been languishing perhaps in a retreat for the neurotic who are 
tremendously active and gloriously healthy at this very hour ; so that 
the head of one of those institutions of enriching mercy complained 
recently, — no, I must not say that ; he is a fine man, living according 
to the low lights ; he is all right, — but he said recently that the war 
had practically destroyed his business. Now, what does that mean? 
It means that people are going out to live for others. 

We heard a great deal about social service and we had many, 
many platform and pulpit orators tell us what that meant and how 
we should all go in for it, but you didn't know how to begin, and you 
didn't know how far to go, and you did not want to give much 
either of yourself or your cash for it. But now, I tell you, ladies and 
gentlemen, I know that in all your hearts there is no limit to what 
you will give, there is no limit to what you will do for other people 
in this very hour of America's and the world's agony. And what 
does that mean? It means a greater joy, a greater peace of mind, 
a greater personal strength. I see people who are made over again, 
a new light in their faces. I know prominent men who seem to me 
to have a more elastic step, a more eager tone in their voice ; they 
seem to me to be more of real men because they are living more 
completely for other people. Is this to end when the war ends, and 
is it only a brief spasm of joy? Is it only a fleeting glimpse of the 
face of Christ who served even unto death for the sake of man- 



Commencement Address 81 

kind? Is it to pass away when the war is over and are men and 
wtomen to go back and say, "Now, let's begin that club over again," 
and "I am glad there is no more knitting to do," and "What shall we 
read? Now, we are tired of reading about the war. Let's get some 
more novels," and, "I don't know ; I wanted to go to church while 
my boy was at the front, but now he is back again safe and sound 
and his wounds are healed, I don't know but what we will go out 
for a ride this morning." I wonder whether the life of service, 
whether the instinct of worship, which has been so aroused and in- 
tensified in these glorious, although lurid and fearful days, is going 
to disappear again. It depends upon you, — you of the graduating 
class. If the war lasts two, three, four, or five years more ; if it 
be five or six or seven years before the boys come home again, — if 
it be anything like that — you will be in the midst of your days ; you 
will be in positions of responsibility. What spirit are you going to 
carry into the world? Are you going to say, "Henceforth my whole 
life is going to be one long question as to what I can do for others, 
and not how much I can do for myself ? How much can I find out 
that human needs really are? How much can I find out the depths 
of human sorrow? Where can I find that there are no limits to 
human wounds of all kinds everywhere? I will give myself to the 
healing of the wounds and the meeting of those needs and the min- 
istry of those human hearts." 

Then there is another direction in which revaluation has come 
upon us. It has come upon us very suddenly; upon many people 
with almost an agony of soul. Over in France very early some of 
their most skeptical men of letters found themselves face to face 
with a situation they had never anticipated and changed their minds, 
— men like Paul Bourget and men like LeDuc who were living 
easily, writing brilliantly, dealing earnestly with nothing other than 
what was superficial and skeptical as to human nature and human 
destiny, were flung back off their base. They found men and women 
everywhere going about with the marks of sacrifice upon their 
faces ; they saw those endless lines of brave French soldiers going 
out to the front and into the trenches, there to bleed and die for 
their country. They saw older men and women saying farewell to 
them at the station. They would hear a French woman say to an- 



82 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

other, "Do not cry just now; he can still see you." They looked 
into the agony of the human heart; they looked into the sacrifice of 
human life ; they asked themselves the question, "Is it really true 
that there is no great and glorious mind that controls human his- 
tory, and is it true that there is no future for the individual man?" 
They gazed into what Paul Bourget calls "The Meaning of Death" 
in the title of one of his books. They gazed into the meaning of 
death ; they asked themselves afresh what dying means, what dying 
leads to, what life really is going to attain through the dark portals 
of death. Is it nothingness, dust, and shadow, as the old Roman 
poet sadly said we all are ? Or, through those portals do we go into 
a real world, a real life, a world more wonderful, a life more full 
and rich and real and varied even than the world in which we live 
now? The doctrine of immortality has always been interesting, but 
interesting to a great many people simply as a far-off and dim mat- 
ter. They found out from doctors and from the experience of their 
friends at death when they live to be old enough and die it comes 
easily, that there are not many haunting fears, not many dread ter- 
rors on most deathbeds nowadays. It only arose when some bright 
boy died, when some little child was taken aw'ay from the fireside 
and the lap of her mother. But to-day think of all the men that are 
dying, and all the brothers, husbands, and sons that are giving them- 
selves, giving themselves utterly unto death for country, for fath- 
ers and mothers, — like that young man who was asked why he en- 
listed when he had been serving in an ambulance on the other side. 
He said, "I saw those devastated French homes ; I saw those wives 
and mothers wronged and mistreated ; I thought of you, mother, and 
of my sister, and I could not keep out. I had to go in." 

If that boy dies, is that the whole story? Those of you who have 
boys at the front have faced this matter, and all of you have faced 
■ it for your neighbors and your friends, and it means there has a new 
value come upon us all of our relations to the life to come. The 
doctrine that all we were to do was to live here and let the future 
take care of itself, is now discovered in the world's catastrophe to 
be a mistaken doctrine. We know we cannot live fully, we know 
we cannot understand life now unless we grasp somewhat and un- 
derstand somewhat the reality and the meaning and the glory of the 



Commencement Address 83 

life which is to come. It is the life encircling this life; it is the life 
penetrating this life. It is these eternal values claiming us even unto 
death that give our life its dignity and give to us all our day, our 
supreme opportunity. There is not a man or woman here with a 
boy at the front who has not brooded and prayed about that matter, 
and if they have believed in God they had to pray, and if they did 
not believe in God they still cried out to the unknown God, cried out 
of a heart whose reasons were better than their intellects, cried out 
in the right direction, for relief and sustenance and hope. 

We are having a revaluation of life in the light of eternity. We 
must learn to live as immortals. If the German doctrine is true, 
then humanity might as well give up living for the future, and this 
world is only an elaborated savagery and man is only an elevated 
animal, with animal passion and greed and cruelty and lust. But, 
if man is more than that, — if a man has a life more than this life, 
then he must learn to walk the earth as immortals would walk it, 
and he must fill his heart and his mind with new interpretations of 
the world of business, of education, of city life, of national life, of 
the home, just because he is interpreting afresh the life of his boy 
as he goes out to France to die. You cannot only hope for them 
there and not hope for yourself here. You cannot fasten the idea 
of immortality upon that boy at the front and not upon the boy that 
is here and the girl at your side. You must fill all life with that 
meaning: "Noblesse oblige," — it will be as we arise to the dignity 
of human nature, behold it in its endless glory, see into the indis- 
soluble life divine, that we shall begin to understand how great a 
thing it is to live and to serve in this world. For, if this world is 
all, all its service is as nothing. If this world is not all, then all its 
service is worth all the world that is to come, and it is the glory, the 
majesty of life so interpreted and so understood that perhaps all 
America will win as all America mourns. Perhaps this is what 
America will win through her tears. Perhaps this is the great gift 
the dying of the boys at the front will give to us here, — a message 
across the seas, a message out of the unseen : "I live ; I live hence- 
forth, there in Indianapolis, in Butler College ; henceforth live, 
work, teach, learn, labor, as in the light of the life I lived, who once 
was with you and went to France and died and lived forever." 



84 Butler Alumnal Ouarterly 

May you of this class, out of the dark years through which we are 
all living, get some glimpse of those glorious lights which seem to 
me to break through the darkness and to fall upon the fundamental 
facts of our experience and deepest problems of our human nature, 
and all your life will be unfolded as we try to see our boys at the 
front unfold in the fatherhood of God. 



Baccalaureate Sermon 

By Frederick E. Lumley 
College of Missions 

"If wishes were horses beggars might ride," is an ancient and 
whimsical saying of unknown and perhaps trivial origin. More- 
over, it is fragrant with irresponsible indolence and effortless fu- 
tility to the undiscerning. It is easy and natural to conclude that 
beggars should never have horses ; but even if they should, no one 
is foolish enough to believe they are born of wishing. 

On reflection, however, was not the human race in beggary to begin 
with, and was it in any sense deserving of horses? But now we be- 
hold it well equipped with the swiftest steeds of flesh and steel. And 
we have to ask, whence came these excellent friends and servants of 
man called dogs, horses, steam engines, automobiles, and aeroplanes? 
And why did they come ? What else began the complicated process 
of animal, vegetable, and physical domestication but wishing? 
When your attention is drawn to it, what else has energized the 
world of matter and motion and whipped it into usable forms? 
What else but the intense longing, the hot desire, the burning wish, 
the unquenchable craving? For "every wish is like a prayer — with 
God" says Browning, and Shakespeare knew the wish was father 
to the thought. It was nothing otlier than wishing, and its nimble 
offspring, thought, that transformed wolves into dogs, animals as 
wild as the winds into horses, the mutterings of savages into lan- 
guage and literature. "Necessity is the mother of invention," and 
the wish is the mother of necessity. And were we the perfect "gar- 
deners of our inclinations" all things would be possible to us. 



Baccalaureate Sermon 85 

It is not insight that first distinguishes man ; neither is it capacity 
for logical inference; nor is it artistic skill. It is the impulse of 
deep desire, it is the "vigorous discontent that goads us from torpid 
ease, or worse" that straightway gives birth to reason and plumes 
itself with the crowning perfections of our civilization. 

"It was the eager wish to soar 
That gave the gods their wings. 

"When baffled lips demanded speech, 
Speech trembled into birth. — 

"When man's dim eyes demanded light 
The light he sought was born — 
His wish, a Titan, scaled the height 
And flung him back the morn ; 

"From deed to dream, from dream to deed, 
From daring hope to hope. 
The restless wish, the instant need. 
Still lashed him up the slope." 

— Don Marquis. 

And what is Germany to-day but the sinister embodiment of the 
malignant wish to power ? For years her villainous Kaiser has been 
distilling his wishes into thoughts and organizations for Der Tag. 
He has been playing with a force which, having overturned the 
world and spilled the blood of millions, will return and destroy him. 
The President may press a button in Washington and let loose the 
complex forces of a Panama Exposition. But that is nothing com- 
pared to the release of a continuous stream of white, hot sparks 
from the soul, which we call wishes. 

It is, therefore, of the utmost importance to survey what young 
people habitually desire, for the answer that is possible in an ordered 
universe is inevitable. But do they want the inevitable answer? 
Could they stand the shock of it when the appearance of some 
things precludes the appearance of other things? When the train 
comes into the depot it brings our loved ones whom we joyously 
embrace, but also a number of crooks and undesirables, and possibly 
the bodies of some who have passed beyond. We are warned, there- 



86 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

fore, that life can never be fully satisfying until we can choose 
wisely as well as wish strongly, and this few people are striving 
to do. When a body of water digs itself into a convenient channel 
and is able to flow freely and powerfully to the sea, it thereby sur- 
renders one kind of freedom and seals its fate. So any desire, or 
set of desires, continuously expressed, cuts a groove which has its 
issue in fixity and imprisonment, for other desires, having been 
thwarted all the while, atrophy and vanish. The unwise wisher is 
left a slave, an automaton. 

It is of such a tragedy that I would speak to you this afternoon. 
One day a man of distinguished mien, well in the forenoon of his 
life cycle, came to Jesus and fell on his knees in respectful oriental 
fashion. He was in dire straits. The questioning face soon ex- 
pressed its meaning in words. "Good Teacher, what must I do to 
inherit eternal life? What lack I yet?" And this incident is so 
bristling with suggestions upon what is worth wishing into existence 
and safe to wish into existence, that I crave your thoughtful atten- 
tion while I attempt to isolate some of them. 

The brief sketch of the man hints at four characteristics. First, 
he was a comparatively young man, thirty-five or so, and thus in 
the extremely fertile period of life when much of the creative work 
of the world is done, when the die is cast for greatness or for medi- 
ocrity. It would astonish any person to find the numbers of per- 
sons who have gained distinction before thirty-five. Among great 
military leaders we think of Scipio, Charlemagne, Conde, Alexan- 
der, the Macedonian madman, Hannibal, and Napoleon — 

"Who, born no king, made monarchs draw his car. 
Whose game was empires, and whose stakes were thrones, 
Whose table, earth — whose dice, human bones." 

In art we think of Raphael, Correggio, Michelangelo, Canova ; in 
invention, Galileo, Newton, Pascal, Whitney, Stephenson, Wedge- 
wood, Watt, Edison, Rennie, and Sir Christopher Wrenn. And so it 
is in other fields of human endeavor. The spirit and the resource- 
fulness of early age are priceless possessions. The man who came 
to Jesus was still young. 

In the second place, he was in a position of authority, and what 



Baccalaureate Sermon 87 

have men and women not dreamed and dared to gain power? To 
say nothing of those who are born to rule and who assume the mas- 
tery of men as Rossetti assumed the mastery of colors, and who re- 
gard their Hves as failures unless they determine the comings and 
goings of human groups, there are the added hosts who are prodded 
to dominating enterprise by the habits of ambitious parents, the 
kicks of superiors or the dislocation of the times in which they live. 
History has countless descriptions of the unquenchable thirstings 
for power and ever more power, and of the ingenious devices em- 
ployed to gain it. Forsaking all else, men have braved the deeps, 
searched inhospitable lands, struggled through almost impenetrable 
forests, delved into the polluted streams of political sectionalism, 
and climbed to "bad eminence" over the mangled bodies of the 
flowers of nations. And are we not witnessing, in these tense days, 
the hateful results of diabolical machinations on a gigantic scale? 
In a recent article on the Kaiser, former Ambassador David Jayne 
Hill describes the developing insanity of imperialism. And as far 
back as 1890, when this young man was able to dismiss his only 
rival, Prince Bismarck, he gave notice to mankind in language which 
we now clearly comprehend, standing as we do in tears amidst mil- 
lions of fresh graves, that the world war was to be expected. But 
the most astounding proof of how completely William the Damned 
mastered Germany is in this: a people, proud of their success in 
puncturing ancient superstitions, had to swallow with an expression 
of enjoyment, the Kaiseridee, the belief that the All-Highest was the 
direct gift of God exclusively to the German nation. What will 
some men do for power? Look at the imperial boomster of PotS' 
dam. The young man who came to Jesus had power ; he was a ruler 
in the synagogue. That was not comparable to Potsdamic authority, 
to be sure, but it was a high position for the time. 

Thirdly, this young ruler was rich. And again I summon you to 
remember what people have done for material wealth. Into the ice- 
bound regions of the Arctic, into the softening realms of the tropics, 
under the earth and over it and above it, men have gone to be rich. 
They have deserted family and relatives; they have abandoned 
music and art and science ; they have taken liberties with verities in 
order to have what all the world declares most desirable. Mammon 



88 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

is a god with the most worshippers and his devotees never weary 
of singing the Te Deum. PhilHps Brooks once said that if an 
American saw a silver dollar on the other side of hell, he would 
jump for it. Well, millions of men have seen millions of dollars on 
the other side of hell and have jumped. Vast numbers of them have 
lost themselves in the fiery vortex but the merry game goes on, so 
great a good does wealth seem to be. This young man had great 
possessions and the game of dollars was won for him. 

And now one more characteristic is worthy of notice ; he was 
moral and religious. And again we are compelled to observe how 
desirable these qualities have been to human beings. You remem- 
ber the remarkable fortitude with which the anchorite sect known 
as the Stylites sat on the tops of their high pillars in all moods of 
the weather. You remember the Indian fakirs who recline in com- 
fort upon beds of spikes. You must have heard of the distressing 
ordeals of the Cree Indians. And most of us have heard of Latimer 
and Ridley and the illustrious martyrs of the church who were sat- 
isfied in their fading consciousness that they had agonized for that 
which was beyond price. This rich ruler had measured up fully to 
the moral standards of the age. 

The character of this man is now before us. He was young, pow- 
erful, rich, and righteous. Great possessions, these four, — a "big 
four" to command the respect and excite the envy of the majority of 
men. And now what other goods do human beings search for ? Do 
not these appear to be the chief ends of human endeavor? Do they 
not clearly include the major values of human experience? Youth 
and wealth, power and righteousness ! Most people, I fancy, would 
say there was nothing else worth having. 

But here is where the tragedy begins. This man had something 
else. He had these four great things and something more. He ac- 
cepted these and the other he could not avoid for he had not learned 
the way. He had not asked for this fifth quality; he hadn't asked 
for anything. The whole flock came and settled upon him and 
crushed him. You recall that I said we could not have some things 
without some other things. This is what our young friend found 
out — when it was too late. And what was this other gift? It was 
a sickening disappointment, a most distressing inquietude. And the 



Baccalaureate Sermon 89 

result was that while others all about him were going "over the top" 
to victory he was left in the trenches in despair. He felt a kind of 
creeping moral paralysis. He seemed to have everything, yet noth- 
ing that really satisfied. He seemed to be full, and yet was starv- 
ing. And while it is somewhat indecent to stare at a man undergo- 
ing torture, I must put convention aside and ask you to do that 
with me to-day. There are many valuable lessons in the miserable 
plight of this young man, and some of them I shall try to point out. 

To begin with, let me observe that this quartet of major goods 
was the product of grace and not of grit. For instance, it was 
through no fault of his that he was still before the meridian of life; 
his parents had seen to that. Moreover, his wealth was too great to 
have been gained by personal application. The public office was 
probably the offering of some influential relative and he had never 
known any other than habits of probity. Some credit is doubtless 
due him for having conserved what had been entailed. But there 
was not one element in his outfit for life that had cost him anything. 
He was fortunate in his possessions, we say, but he was most unfor- 
tunate in the manner of their acquisition. All were gifts, bestow- 
ments, donations, grants. The wealth and the moral standard, of 
which he was the heir, had cost others something, but they cost him 
nothing. Therefore they never could be ethically possessed, for the 
very process of acquisition had incapacitated him for moral dis- 
crimination. 

We can see that this man was the victim of overindulgence and 
complete misunderstanding. He had been done the indignity of be- 
ing regarded as a sponge when he had once felt himself a man. He 
turned out to be an absorber rather than a contributor. He had 
reached the goal of life on the bosom of a tide undirected by him- 
self. He was simply a decent, hand-carved, standardized unit in 
society. 

Now, there are increasing numbers of young people headed in 
this same direction. This is a growingly rich and benevolent 
country, and there are multiplying numbers of wealthy, orthodox 
people who are searching everywhere for unwary young men and 
women around whose necks they can fasten a string and hang until 
they are dead. It was never harder to escape the avalanche of do- 



90 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

nations and remain free, A college friend of mine had the extreme 
misfortune to touch quite unconsciously the heartstrings of a rich, 
decadent old lady, and then be compelled, through fear of exposure, 
to accept several thousand dollars for education expenses. 

"And then it seems he woke, and waking, died ; 
Calling on things that he had long forgot." 

But what self-respecting, independent individual cares to ■ die 'by 
suffocation? Having ambition, pluck, and energy, and not being as 
spineless as a banana, who will accept a complete outfit for life 
without turning a hand? Who would consider it if there was clear 
vision as to all that was involved in it ? Who wants to be condemned 
to affluence, influence, and orthodoxy from birth? If you can im- 
agine a life without effort, devoid of the delicious tingle of personal 
triumph and the warm exultation of individual victory, entirely free 
from the daily necessity of rational choice, you can comprehend the 
predicament of this man and uncover the reason for his disillusion- 
ment. 

And of how much more value, in the course of human events, is 
such a man than a sheep? Of how much more significance, in a 
world of laborious effort and costly achievement, is he than a cer- 
tain tie-post I once saw ? Like this young man, it, too, was young, 
having been cut from the forest when set up. It was also rich in 
forest memories, stuffed with nourishing juices, and fragrant witli 
the delicious odors of new wood. It held a prominent position at 
the entrance of a fine home, and it had often served to nip in the 
bud the lawless intentions of many Jerusalem ponies tied there by 
the most respectable people in the neighborhood. It was also carved 
and decorated and perfectly fitted to its surroundings, never having 
killed or stolen or committed any of the numerous naughty depre- 
dations credited to men. Now, where is this tie-post inferior to the 
breathmg biped that stands still in the world and allows the proces- 
sion to drape the worth-while things of life about him? 

And growing out of this suggestion is another to the effect that 
the young ruler had acquired the habit of construing life in terms of 
inheritance. Not only had he accepted everything in the past, but 
his mouth was open toward the future. He had about everything 



Baccalaureate Sermon 91 

but was yet unsatisfied, though whatever additional comfort he re- 
quired was also to be a gratuity. He thought he wanted eternal 
life, but he would accept it only as a gift. Even amidst unrest and 
vexation of spirit, no thought of constructive effort, private initia- 
tive, native resourcefulness, had been born within him. It seems 
clear, then, that he had been pauperized. The natural, buoyant, 
ambitious, creative self-expression of young manhood had been dis- 
couraged and thwarted until it was capable of but one more feeble 
flicker. 

At this time I am wondering if any of you have so conceived life. 
Probably not. But there are thousands of your kind who are being 
taught to wander about aimlessly, like Mr. Micawber, killing time 
until that great and notable day when death or some equally accepta- 
ble combination of circumstances confers upon them the lordship 
of an enormous, unearned, and undeserved and dangerous patri- 
mony. As I have said, if you expect something to turn up it prob- 
ably will, and you will have to reap the harvest no matter what it 
is. It is increasingly easy to "get by," if that is your game, for 
opportunities increase with wealth and so do soft heads. But see 
the end from the beginning. Do not take chances. Your education 
should help you avoid that peril. A little self -analysis will reveal 
your present direction and you can easily make sure whether you 
regard the world as a huge orange to be sucked and then discarded 
or whether yours is the spirit of Browning when he said : 

"I was ever a fighter, so — one fight more, 

The best and the last. 
I would hate that death bandaged my eyes, and forbore. 

And bade me creep past. 
No ; let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers. 

The heroes of old, 
Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears 

Of pain, darkness, and cold." 

And Browning also tells us of the erudite grammarian who was 
"dead from the waist down." The people I am trying to describe, 
those who have learned to construe life in terms of inheritance, are, 
on the contrary, dead from the waist up. This is by far the greater 
calamity. 



92 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

A third suggestion is released from this incident. It is this : What 
any age labels best is usually only good to each succeeding genera- 
tion. The young ruler was adequately outfitted according to his 
time, but was still unsatisfied. And meditating upon this situation 
and others, I have come to believe that every young person is an 
absolutely new creation, an entirely original inflorescence, and hence 
an unknown quantity. And the treatment accorded, not to be fatal, 
should be as original as the subject of it. But it never is. From 
the very beginning, a host of pestiferous meddlers called parents, 
relatives, friends, teachers, guardians of the faith, and whatnot, 
gather about to begin the initiation. And they never let up until 
they have standardized and ordered the growth of thought, feeling, 
and behavior so that the individual will be in perfect accord with 
the age in which he lives, on the one hand, or until they have elimi- 
nated him, on the other. And the spoliation thus accomplished pro- 
duces a tragedy often carried to the grave as an incommimicable 
secret. Jesus understood this situation well, for He, too, was a 
victim, and hence the narrative tells us He looked upon this man 
to love him. There was comradeship here in suffering. 

Possibly a story will convey my meaning more clearly. When 
Saul was king of Israel he was often faced by the Philistine host. 
One day Goliath, the Philistine leader, came out boldly and chal- 
lenged the Hebrew king to settle the affair by a duel. Saul was 
paralyzed with fear. But David taunted him and, getting no re- 
sponse, announced his willingness to tackle the giant himself. Being 
unarmed — as the elders always think youth is — it was proposed that 
David wear Saul's equipment. This was an honor, indeed, to wear 
anything that belonged to a king. The idea flattered and pleased 
him, and so he got into the armor. But it fitted him like Charlie 
Chaplin's shoes, for Saul was a big man and David somewhat un- 
dersized. Consequently his efforts at warlike maneuvers were as 
graceful and dexterous as those of a British tank. Thus far the 
picture is entirely conventional. Now comes the originality; David 
took the ponderous thing off and, with characteristic youthful re- 
sourcefulness, produced a sling-shot from his clothes and went out 
to battle. The bystanders gasped. This was a new thing in their 
experience. They said David was a fool and a heretic for refusing 



Baccalaureate Sermon 93 

the old folkways. They knew he would perish without the armor 
of the past. But they could not see that he was certain to perish 
in the armor of the past, because it did not fit. 

Thus, out of this attempt of those in authority to level down, and 
the resistance of the newer arrivals in their efforts to reach up, there 
develops the gravest problem that human beings have to face. It 
seems right to produce conformists, but it causes stagnation. It 
seems right to cultivate self-expression, but it proves abortive. 
Therefore, I beg of you to learn to think clearly for yourselves and 
to avoid the tragedy of social seduction, on the one hand, and the 
tragedy of unaided combat, on the other. A sample of what the 
elders transmit to the rising generations came to me in an examina- 
tion paper the other day. There are "acres of diamonds" in exam- 
ination papers, you know. An Indianapolis school teacher was writ- 
ing on my examination in the extension course and felt it neces- 
sary to explain why she was late and had arrived all out of breath. 
She said she started in plenty of time but before reaching the street- 
car line a black cat crossed her path and she simply could not pro- 
ceed. Accordingly she retraced her steps to the starting point and 
began again. But this is only one of the countless false beliefs and 
foolish practices handed down as the wisdom of the past which 
it is an abomination to reject. It is wholly unsafe to swallow any- 
thing simply because it is ancient. All things must be tested and 
careful discrimination is needful to sift the chaff from the wheat. 
And the wheat is what you need, not always what somebody thinks 
you need. Even when that is done, there is needed, in addition, an 
honest expression of that which is peculiar to you, an exhalation 
of your own original fragrance to the world. More than that you 
cannot do ; less than that is cowardice. What will happen to you 
if you vary from the standards of correctness is beside the point. 
If you choose to be a mere routineer your portion will be a deep 
dungeon called formalism, filled with a deadly gas called tradition. 
If you select the path of innovation you will mount the hill of per- 
sonality and breathe the free ozone of truth at the top, no matter 
what is done to your body. 

Christ made one supreme effort to save this young man. He 
diagnosed the disease accurately and then made one sharp, short 



9.4 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

stroke of the ethical blade. "Sell your goods." He probed deep 
into.the ruler's life for the remaining spark of originality, initiative, 
and courage, "Sell your goods." It was a cry of warning. Be 
free once more. Jump out of your dungeon before the doors close 
over your head forever. Ydu have always been receiving good 
things, now try giving awhile. You have always been pampered 
and you are about to spoil. Try service. "Follow me" a while 
and see if you will not enjoy life more than you do. Desert your 
riches, escape the plaudits of men, do a new thing under the sun 
and see what happens. But the probing only revealed dead timber. 
The young man's faith had been pinned so long to goods, rewards, 
and standards that 

"Faith, fanatic faith, once wedded fast. 
To some dear falsehood, hugs it to the last," 

And now we have a plain answer to that old theological puzzle: 
What must a man do to be lost? Nothing. 

"Better a pauper, penniless, asleep on the kindly sod — 
Better a gipsy, houseless, but near the heart of God, 
That beats for ears not dulled by the clanking wheels of care — 
Better starvation and freedom, hope, and the good fresh air. 
Than death to the Something in him that was born to laugh and 

dream. 
That was kin to the idle lilies and the ripple of the stream." 

— Don Marquis. 

In the light of certain theological viewpoints I would like to point 
out that the answer of Jesus to this man was a plain, practical, 
specific prescription for an individual case. 

Again, I ask you to consider why this young ruler came to Jesus, 
a young man, for help. Jesus had no riches in the accepted sense. 
He was not in any official position. He was not even moral and 
religious, according to the prevailing standards of the time. Why 
seek Him out? 

There are many reasons that have been assigned, but I shall men- 
tion only one, and that, to me, of paramount importance : the young 
are, after all, the chief helpers of the young. This man's parents 



Baccalaureate Sermon 95 

could do nothing for him. The elders could advise and warn and 
lecture ; but they could not sympathize ; they could not understand — 
him. He was newer in the world than they. But some way Jesus 
understood, and hence this promised to be a fine case of mutual 
attraction and mutual aid, upon the same age level. As the young 
man observed Him there were surely evidences of freedom. He 
had the magnetism of positiveness ; there were flashes of merriment, 
looks of relentless purpose, gestures of immense strength, hints of 
deep resourcefulness, and mystic gleams of salvation. For the 
moment, perhaps, he might have been saying: 

"Once more I long to join the virile race; 
For I was blind till now — " 

but when he heard the price, it was too high ; he could not meet it 
and turned away in sorrow. 

And why have millions through the centuries sought this Man's 
help in the hours of gravest uncertainty? The answer is in poetry 
and prose, in song and speech, in picture and statue, in heroic deed 
and patient endurance. There is a quiet communication of some- 
thing so that the world's great have joined in making Christ say: 

"I am the soul and spirit of your songs; 
I am your ballad's grief, your lyric's fire, 
I am the light for which your yearning longs ; 
Your curious rapture and your sick desire. 
I am the burden that your lays beseech ; 
The one refrain that flows through all your themes, 
I am the eerie glamour of your speech, 
I am the mystic radiance of your dreams." 

No man can explain this influence; but all men can experience it 
and that is the chief thing in an emergency. Class of 1918, you have 
studied your Plato, Socrates, and Hegel ; you have pored over your 
Euclid, Newton, and Boyle ; you have diligently searched the works 
of Darwin, Mendel, and Thompson. That is good. You are now 
broad and tolerant. Have you searched the character of Jesus? 
Do you know His program? If not, there are yet other worlds to 
conquer. To stop content at any point is to be caught and im- 



% Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

prisoned. The past will catch you if you don't watch out. The 
best only escapes the decay of time and does not turn to ashes in 
one's mouth. The issue is clear; wish strongly, but learn to choose 
wisely and you will have the experience of him who said: 

"Standing on tiptoe ever since my youth, 
Striving to grasp the future just above, 
I hold at length the only future — Truth, 
And Truth is Love." 



On the Journey to Tibet 

By Roderick A. MacLeod, '14 

The voyage from San Francisco to Hongkong, via Honolulu, 
Japan, and Shanghai, is familiar to many readers. Keen-eyed tour- 
ists and literary people have made this journey frequently, and have 
recorded their observations in delightful style. It is, therefore, dif- 
ficult for an ordinary missionary to add anything new and inter- 
esting to that which has been written concerning the above voyage. 
Of this part of our journey, it is enough to say that the voyage was 
delightful ; and that, after a month of pleasant sailing on the Pacific, 
we landed at Hongkong on September thirtieth. 

The journey from Hongkong to Batang, via Haiphong, Yunanfu, 
Tali, Likiang, Weisi, and Atuntsu, is not so familiar as the voyage 
mentioned above. Few Americans have journeyed to Batang. Be- 
sides, sailing on the Pacific is "tame and domestic to one who has 
rov'd o'er the mountains afar." The wild and high mountain ranges 
of Western China impress their awful forms with a thrilling eflfect 
on the traveler. It is, therefore, an easy matter for one to write 
interestingly regarding these regions, which are so grand in their 
wildness, and yet so little knowm. 

At Hongkong w^e were introduced to the mountains. The harbor 
of Hongkong winds its narrow way for several miles between high 
and rugged hills. The city itself is "set on a hill." From the deck 
of the steamer it appears very beautiful. Terrace rises above ter- 



On the Journey to Tibet ^-^7 

race, each containing a beautiful home, partly hid in tropical foliage. 
The streets wind from one elevation to another in a pleasing manner 
far up to the summit of the mountain. 

The apparent beauty of the city is its chief recommendation. The 
heat is oppressive. A sort of inertia, due to the tropical climate, is 
felt even as late as October. Europeans say that they lose ten per 
cent, in efficiency as soon as they land. 

Hongkong is a mixture of "East" and "West." There are no 
signs of fusion. The British are British and the Chinese are Chinese. 
The conspicuous and beautiful parts are occupied by the British; 
the obscure and unattractive parts by the Chinese. There are broad, 
paved streets, clean and shaded v^ith trees; but there are narrow, 
rough streets, dirty and hot. The British influence is present among 
the British ; but the Chinese are not any more British or any better 
off than in any other part of China. There are streets of filth, chil- 
dren covered with sores, old people in rags and begging, and multi- 
tudes who do the work of beasts of burden in order to get insuffi- 
cient food, rags of clothing, and wretched shelter. There is little 
evidence of British culture among the masses of Chinese. British 
law and the preaching of the gospel does not seem to have made 
any impression. They receive the gospel of salvation as the Chil- 
dren of Israel, when they were in bondage in Egypt, received the 
message of Moses. "They hearkened not unto Moses for anguish 
of spirit and for cruel bondage." It is interesting to note that the 
Christian message promises the adding of "these things" — what we 
shall eat, what we shall drink, and wherewithal we shall be clothed. 

We remained at Hongkong for a week. Our time was occupied 
in purchasing supplies for the overland journey and in arranging 
passports and passage for Haiphong. On the seventh of October 
we embarked on the S. S. Atlantique and set sail for Haiphong. 

The good ship Atlantique and her crew were of the French, 
"Frenchy." Shrugging of shoulders, waving of hands, flashing of 
eyes, begging of pardons, drinking of wine, animated conversation, 
and other interesting characteristics of the French people could be 
seen or heard at any time. The voyage was pleasant and we landed 
at Haiphong on October ninth. 

Haiphong is the seaport of Hanoi, the capital of French Indo- 



98 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

China. It is a busy little place. Most of the imports and exports 
of Tonkin pass in and out at this port. The French custom houses 
are here, and all imports are subject to a careful examination. All 
goods which do not come directly from France are subjected to a 
tariff tax at an exorbitant rate. It cost us $45 to get $300 worth 
of goods — some of which were not new — through the French 
customs. 

In the matter of colonization, the French government seems very 
despotic. The freedom and welfare of the Tonkinese is a secondary 
matter. That Tonkin may become a profitable addition to France 
is the question of first importance. To this end, both the resources 
and the people of Tonkin are exploited. It is true to the "consistent 
inconsistency" of human nature, that a liberty loving people like the 
French should be such despots in colonization. 

The French have built a railroad from Haiphong to Yunanfu. 
The building of this road is a remarkable work. It is 596 miles 
long and occupied eight years in building at a cost of $40,000,000 
and thousands of lives. In the Manti Valley it is said that every 
sleeper represents a human life. The country through which it 
passes is so mountainous that extraordinary engineering skill was 
necessary in the construction of the road. There are hundreds of 
tunnels and bridges which were constructed under the greatest dif- 
ficulties. We had heard much of the railroad from a Frenchman 
on board the S. S. Atlantique and were anxious to travel on it. 

We left Haiphong for Yunanfu on this wonderful railway on 
October fifteenth. We were glad to leave the greedy French and 
the stunted Tonkinese. The latter are a little folk — small of body and 
mind. They live in miserable hovels and have a peculiar custom of 
blackening their teeth. Perhaps they are not so wretched as we 
thought. The climate of Tonkin had so depressed us in body and 
mind that we lent part of our own misery to every creature we met. 
At any rate, we were glad to get our bags and baggage on the queer 
little mountain train and start for Yunanfu. 

To Hanoi, our first day's journey, is only a four hours' ride. 
There was little to be seen but boundless rice fields on every side. 
The train does not travel after night on this road, so we stayed all 
night at Hanoi. This is a large city, but we did not see much of 
it as it was late when we reached there. 



*•>■ 



On the Journey to Tibet 99 

From Hanoi to Laokay, the road winds along the side of very 
steep hills which slope down to the Red river. The scenery was 
beautiful. The fresh green mountains were a very refreshing con- 
trast to the hot mud flats about Haiphong. 

Laokay is on the border between Tonkin and China. Chinese 
soldiers are quartered here. It was interesting to be awakened at 
five o'clock in the morning by a company of buglers who were in 
training. The confusion of tongues at Babel was harmonious as 
compared with the ear-racking discords of these Chinese buglers. 
Another "weariness of the flesh" at the place was the custom 
officials — especially the French. All these things, however, were 
more amusing than disconcerting. We enjoyed them. 

The section from Laokay to Amitcfieou is the most beautiful part 
of the road. The mountains rise to tremendous heights on all sides. 
The train winds along the side of a precipice. Every few minutes 
it passes through a tunnel chiseled through the solid rock. Beauti- 
ful bridges span foaming torrents. Streams of water, almost 
churned into spray, dash down the precipices. We noticed one of 
these in particular. It was several hundred feet above us ; and, at 
one place, the water was falling perpendicularly for about one hun- 
dred feet. Half way down the fall, the water was dashing against 
a projecting rock, and sending a great stream of water outward, 
like a giant hose. The bridge over the gorge below the fall is a 
single span and connects two tunnels which are bored through the 
opposite sides of the gorge. There are about two hundred feet of 
almost perpendicular rock above the point where the tunnels and 
bridge pass, and about two hundred fifty feet from the bridge to 
the rushing stream below. It was a thrilling experience to stand 
on the platform of the car, while the train passed from one tunnel 
to the other over the wonderful span of steel which connected 
the two. 

This "land of the mountain and the flood" is not without its 
perils. In the rainy seasons tremendous landslides occur. Huge 
boulders and large m^asses of earth are precipitated down the sides 
of the mountains. These avalanches carry everything in their path 
to the river below. We noticed a place where the railway had been 
recently carried away by a landslide. The work of repairing was 
still in progress. 



100 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

The people who inhabit these regions lead a miserable existence. 
They dress in rags, live in huts of mud and straw, and constantly 
beg travelers for coins. The poverty of these people is due, in part, 
to ignorance. In the neighborhood are vast quantities of mineral 
deposits, which might easily be turned into a means of subsistence; 
but the inhabitants do not know how to profit by the mineral wealth 
of their country; and no one has shown them the way. The one 
who possesses the knowledge which these poverty-stricken people 
need, and withholds it, is guilty for their poverty. Samuel Johnson 
said rightly : "He who voluntarily continues ignorance, is guilty 
of all the crimes which ignorance produces ; as to him that should 
extinguish the tapers of a lighthouse, might justly be imputed the 
calamities of shipwrecks." 

Our fellow passengers were no less interesting than the people 
we passed. The white folks were an Australian named Johnstone, 
an agent for the British American Tobacco Company, and a French 
family — man, woman, son, dog, and perfume. The human part of 
the family group were very small of stature, lean, and nervous. 
They were in an intense state of excitement continually. On one 
occasion their passions lost all bounds and they came to blows. The 
son, a youth of ten years, got off the train at a place where the train 
stopped, and did not get on until it had started and was going at 
a fast rate. As soon as he could get hold of him, the father rained 
blows with fist and palm on the daring youth, until we thought the 
boy was severely hurt. When the father was through, the mother 
began a rapid-fire conversation with the unfortunate lad. She 
waxed faster and warmer in speech ; and, finally, losing her self- 
control, she flew into a fury, and slapped her son on the face as 
long as her frail hand could endure the assault. Having spent her 
fury, she bathed her bruised hands in perfumed alcohol ; and, when 
her son recovered — which he did in a remarkably short time — she 
administered the same soothing lotion to his face. The appearance 
of a bottle of claret restored a temporary peace. 

The other passengers were Chinese. These could teach the Amer- 
ican "shopping woman" how to increase greatly the amount and 
variety of goods which she might take on the street car. For in- 
stance, one Chinaman had four boxes, each about the size of a suit- 



On the Journey to Tibet 101 

case, a huge bag of cabbage, a bunch of bananas, and a box con- 
taining two live rabbits. The other Chinese passengers had a sim- 
ilar amount, but we did not reckon exactly how much each had ; for 
they did not inconvenience us as much as the Chinaman who had 
the cabbage, rabbits, etc. He occupied the seat opposite us, and 
his baggage occupied most of our seat. Only one of us could sit 
comfortably at the same time. 

As the heat of the day began to beat down upon us, we began to 
realize that in this part of China is the fountain of all foul odors. 
From each box oozed forth a countless variety of nauseating fumes, 
which combined to form Chinese smell. An occasional breeze from 
the French quarter was a great relief. 

As we approached Yunanfu, we passed a lake of wondrous beauty 
— Lake Tien-chin. Its color was a perfect turquoise blue; and, at 
several places, its banks consisted of perpendicular rock, rising in 
one place to a height of over two thousand feet. 

We arrived at Yunanfu on the eighteenth of October. We went 
to the home of Mr. R. B. Wear, the Y. M. C. A. secretary. There 
we met Mr. H. B. Baker, of the Batang Mission, who came to meet 
us and to guide us to Batang. 

Yunanfu is the capital of Yunan Province. This city is 6,400 
feet above sea level, and is the largest city in this part of China. 
There are several foreigners among the population — one family of 
Americans, Mr. Wear, his wife, and son. We found great excite- 
ment in Yunanfu. A few days previously an unusual and severe 
hailstorm had swept over the city, and the cause of the storm had 
been discovered. It was due to the uncovering of a dragon carved 
on an old monument, which, in the course of time, had become 
partly buried. All the city was pouring itself into the mulberry 
grove outside the city wall, where the monument stands. We fol- 
lowed the crowd and saw the monument. It is a gray stone shaft, 
about twelve feet in height and carved profusely with figures of 
the Buddha. The lower part has a lengthy inscription in both 
Sanskrit and Chinese characters. Below the inscription is the figure 
of the dragon. It is very old — the monument of a Buddhist priest 
of the fourth century A. D. Chinese scholars were busy copying the 
inscription. 



102 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Another cause of excitement was the preparation for the invasion 
of Szechuan. The governor of Yunan was gathering all the men 
and horses he could find, and organizing them for a march on Sze- 
chuan. The streets were crowded with soldiers ; and various rumors 
of the possibility that the soldiers would strike and loot the city were 
current. 

The commandeering of the horses by the governor greatly incon- 
venienced us. Since we could not obtain horses, our goods must be 
carried as far as Talifu by men; and, therefore, must be repacked 
from boxes into baskets. Each basket must weigh about fifty 
pounds. They had to be packed very carefully, as the coolies are 
liable to stumble on the rough roads of Yunan. 

We were forced to remain in Yunanfu for nine days. Most of 
this time we were busy preparing our caravan, so we did not have 
much time for observation. We were interested in the Chinese 
funerals, with their fearful bands, paper images, and white-clad 
mourners. Another interesting custom is the Chinese way of set- 
tling disputes. The contending parties come to the policeman's 
box and state their grievance. Often they are both speaking at once. 
Soon a large crowd is gathered about them, and a general uproar 
follows. Every one says what he thinks and has to shout in order 
to make himself heard, for a score of people are trying to express 
themselves at once. The policeman decides according to the opin- 
ion of the majority of the mob, charges the loser ten cents, and sends 
them away. 

There is a good deal of quarreling in Yunanfu. The women espe- 
cially have very bad dispositions. It is not uncommon for a 
Yunanese woman to take her stool, sit before the house of the one 
who has offended her, and there rave, abuse, and cry from morning 
until night. 

Our party left Yunanfu October twenty-ninth. It consisted of 
Mr. H. B. Baker, Mrs. MacLeod, and the writer. Mrs. MacLeod 
rode in a sedan chair, carried by four men. This was her first ride 
in a sedan chair, and she did not sit to suit the chairmen, who kept 
up a continuous protest until she got seated to suit them. Mr. Baker 
and I rode each in a "Hwagon." A "Hwagon" is made by arrang- 
ing a seat of rope between two bamboo poles. It is carried in the 



On the Journey to Tibet 103 

same manner as a sedan chair, but is very much lighter. My 
"Hwagon" was carried by three men, two in front and one behind. 
We had gone but a short distance when the foremost man stumbled 
and fell. I was precipitated onto the man immediately in front of 
me; but fortunately did not injure him and was not injured myself. 

As we approached Nganlindjou, another accident happened. It 
was rather amusing. The chairmen have a custom that the fore- 
most man must call out all the obstacles and dangerous places in 
the road. The leader cried, "Dig gold" (meaning, a deep ditch). 
The rear man shouted, "How deep?" and the leader responded, 
"Dig ten feet deep," thus conveying to the others the depth of the 
ditch in their path. Just at that moment the cross piece in the 
"Hwagon" snapped, and I was plunged into the ditch. It was five 
feet instead of ten. Fortunately, I landed on my feet, and was not 
hurt in any way. A walk of three miles to Nganlindjou completed 
the experience of the day. 

Our coolies were an interesting lot. Each of them carried a hun- 
dred pounds, fifty pounds in each of two baskets, which were sus- 
pended one from each end of a pole laid across the shoulder of the 
carrier. There were only six out of the fifty-four coolies who did 
not smoke opium. All went along at a sort of dog trot rate for 
about twenty-five miles each day. It seems cruel that men should 
do such work, but they are glad to do so in order to live. 

At Nganlindjou we spent our first night in a Chinese inn. From 
a sanitary point of view, the Western stable is far superior to the 
room in which we stayed. The floor was "of the earth, earthy." 
There were no w'indows. Knotholes in the partitions between us 
and the adjoining rooms accidentally admitted air, but it was more 
foul than that of our own room, because the adjoining rooms were 
filled with opium smokers. Our door was kept shut for fear of 
thieves. The ceiling and corners were covered with cobwebs. It 
was a stuffy and dirty place. 

We did not sleep very much. Our coolies were lodged in rooms 
about us and it took them until midnight to get settled down. It 
seemed that each man wanted to know the location of every other 
man, and to gain this information each coolie called the name of 
every other coolie, and every other coolie answered. Some such 
performance, it seemed to us, went on until after midnight. 



104 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

As soon as the coolies located one another, the hungry Chinese 
fleas began to locate us. This they did with unquestionable accuracy. 
These silent searchers were more effective in banishing sleep than 
the noisy searchers already referred to. Gradually we became inured 
even to flea bites and fell asleep. 

We were awakened at an early hour the next morning, and our 
minds immediately reverted to a sensational fact, of which we were 
made aware the day before; namely, that we were about to enter 
one of the worst robber sections in China. The appearance of 
twenty soldiers at the head of the caravan eased our minds. During 
the forenoon, this escort marched before the caravan, but, in the 
rfternoon, as we approached a place where people had been recently 
robbed, the caravan was halted, huddled closer together, and ordered 
to march before the escort. This was done to prevent any of the 
coolies from straggling behind and falling into the hands of lurking 
robbers. After all this precaution, we did not meet any robbers 
and arrived safely in Laoyagwan. The inn at this place was quieter 
and cleaner than at Nganlindjou. 

The stage from Laoyagwan to Lufeng is the most dangerous on 
this route. So many people have been robbed at a pass which is 
three miles from Laoyagwan that it is named the "Lion's Mouth." 
Two weeks before we passed through, Mr. Allen and Mr. Graham, 
both of the China Inland Mission, were robbed at this place. The 
robbers took all they had, even to Mr. Allen's false teeth. Mr. Gra- 
ham was carrying a package to a friend in Yunanfu, and begged 
the robbers to return it to him. 

"If it were my own," said Mr. Graham, "I should not ask for it." 

"The poor foreigner !" repUed one of the robbers. "His head 
cannot stand the hot sun. Give him back his hat and coat." 

At this suggestion, they gave Mr. Graham his hat and raincoat; 
and he and Mr. Allen went on their way, scantily clad, but rejoicing. 

The "Lion's Mouth" pass is by nature suited to the purpose of 
bandits. It is a gap in a high and wooded ridge which runs across 
a narrow valley and connects lofty mountains which form the sides 
of the valley. At the north side, and at the point where the ridge 
joins the mountain, there is a very high peak. From this lofty 
eminence the robbers can command an excellent view of the road 



On the Journey to Tibet 105 

for a distance of several miles east, and an equal distance west, of 
the ridge. If the bandits determine to rob a party, which is seen 
approaching three miles to the east of the ridge, they sneak along 
the wooded western slope of the ridge and await their victims at 
the "Lion's Mouth." If the party to be plundered is seen approach- 
ing three miles to the west, the robbers use the wooded eastern slope, 
as effectively as the western slope. When the robbery is completed, 
the bandits have the advantage of a safe retreat into the wild and 
almost inaccessible mountains. 

We asked how the band of robbers in this vicinity came into ex- 
istence. Our cook, an intelligent Chinese, told us that they were 
remnants of suppressed rebels, deserters from the army, and victims 
who, when robbed, decided to cast their lot with those who had 
robbed them. 

When we were within a half-mile of the "Lion's Mouth," our 
caravan was halted. Our escort, thirty-four soldiers, deployed and 
crept up to the top of the ridge. After reaching the top, they peered 
down the other side for a long time. When they were satisfied that 
the way was clear, they signaled for the caravan to advance and 
we passed safely through the "Lion's Mouth." 

Within eight miles of Lufeng there is another place famous for 
robberies. At this place we saw a gruesome sight. The branches 
had been lopped off two spruce trees which stood one on each side of 
the road. In a conspicuous place near the top of each tree, a human 
head was suspended by a cord which was passed through the mouth. 
These heads were placed there on the day before and were not yet 
decomposed. The blood was still dripping from them. We shall 
never forget the ghastly expression of those horrible faces. Our 
cook soon ascertained the story of these heads. On the day previ- 
ous, a band of two hundred highwaymen attacked a company of 
seventy-five soldiers who were on their way to Yunanfu. This 
boldness on the part of the robbers was due to the fact that they 
had robbed the town of Lufeng a few nights before and had taken 
the arms and bugle of the few soldiers stationed there. As the sol- 
diers approached, the leader of the bandits, an ex-soldier, sounded 
the bugle as a signal to attack. The soldiers instantly fired on the 
bandits, killed two of them, including the leader, and took three 



106 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

prisoners. The dead bandits were beheaded on the spot, and their 
heads hung as a terrifying example, one on each side of the road. 

At Lufeng, we had difficulty in getting an escort. The official 
was rather indifferent. Finally he furnished the escort and we pro- 
ceeded. The escort was a mixture of all stages in military progress. 
Some were armed with large knives, others with old Chinese guns, 
and a few with modern rifles. 

In the forenoon the road was very difficult — a narrow, rocky path 
through a wooded mountain valley. In the afternoon we entered 
the territory of the Shedji official, and there the road was much 
better. Work had been done in repairing the road and the woods 
had been cut down for fifty yards back from the road, so as to 
prevent a surprise by robbers. 

At Shedji we met Dr. and Mrs. Hardy on their way from Batang 
to America. They reported great difficulties which they had experi- 
enced on the road. We found the official at Shedji very gracious. 
He called on us in person and promised us an escort over the dan- 
gerous mountain road to Gwantong. Our escort from Gwantong 
to Tsuchong was very interesting. It consisted of a solitary old 
man. He was small of stature, carried a long knife, and followed 
Mrs. MacLeod's chair all the way to Tsuchong. 

Occasionally along the road we observed a high pole which looked 
like a flag pole. On closer observation, we noticed that a lantern 
was raised to the top of the pole, in the same way that we raise a 
flag. This lantern is lighted in the evening in order to keep away 
the evil spirits, which do all kinds of mischief and prevent the chil- 
dren from sleeping. 

The city of Tsuchong is surrounded by a massive stone wall and 
from without appears to be quite clean, but within it is exceedingly 
filthy. Here we were visited by workers from Miss Morgan's Mis- 
sion. They were bright, cheerful, Chinese girls, very different from 
the inexpressive, inert Chinese women which we saw along the way. 
The difference that the Christian religion makes in the Chinese, espe- 
cially the women, is very remarkable. 

A short distance on the other side of Tsuchong we met Miss 
Morgan herself, who was hurrying home to meet us. She is an in- 
dependent missionary, supported by friends in America. She 



On the Journey to Tibet 107 

dresses in Chinese costume and eats Chinese food. We thought 
her a very interesting and clever woman. 

Near Liho we met parrot merchants. Each man carried about 
a hundred parrots on racks which were fastened one on each end 
of a pole. The legs of the parrots were fastened to the rack by 
small chains. These birds come from Burma and are captured alive 
by placing a sticky substance on the branches of the trees on which 
they roost. 

The inhabitants of this region are, for the most part, aborigines — 
a branch of the "Lolo" tribes. They are a sturdy looking folk and 
differ noticeably from the Chinese. In ways of living, the Lolos 
have copied from their conquerors. Even the custom of foot-bind- 
ing has been taken over by the Lolo women. 

To the northwest of Liho there is an independent tribe, known as 
the "Black Lolos." This tribe has never been conquered by the 
Chinese, although numerous expeditions have been sent against them. 
Very little is knov/n of this tribe. The attempts of the Chinese to 
take their territory has made it impossible for any one to enter their 
country. At the present time, it is not unusual for the Black Lolos 
to capture the Chinese and make slaves of them. 

These "Tribes people," as they are called, do not seem to have 
any temples. At least we did not see any along the road. Occa- 
sionally, however, we saw people prostrate themselves before shrubs 
and trees and burn incense before large rocks and trees. This led 
us to think them Animists. 

From Sachiao to Pupeng is the longest stage on the road — thirty- 
five miles. The first half of tlie journey is over a wooded mountain 
region which was very beautiful in its variegated shades of green. 
The last half is a barren rock country. 

We tried to get pictures of the "Tribes people" at Pupeng, but 
they fled in terror at the appearance of the camera. 

As we were about to leave Pupeng, we observed the head coolie 
in a violent argument with one of his men. The man was refusing 
to go any farther. He had used up all his opium and said that he 
could not carry. He was forced to go. In the afternoon I noticed 
him and he seemed very wretched. 

About 1 :30 in the afternoon, as we reached the summit of a very 



108 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

high hill, we noticed a beautiful snow mountain. It seemed only 
a few miles to the north of us. Imagine our surprise when we were 
informed that it was one hundred eighty miles away. It is twenty- 
two thousand feet high, and is situated twenty miles northwest of 
Likiang. The snow-capped peak may be seen at a distance of three 
hundred miles. 

Thirteen miles to the west of Yunanfu we saw a remarkable cave, 
the entrance to which is one hundred fifty feet wide. It had many 
large ramifications, but we could not stop to explore them. 

The view from the summit of the ridge eight miles east of Hongai 
was very delightful. Green grassy mountains with steep sides un- 
folded their tremendous forms to our view as we advanced. 

Our arrival at the small country towns caused no small stir; or 
rather, from one point of view, inactivity; for all manner of work 
ceased. The whole town lined up along the street through which 
we passed, and gazed with wonder and amazement at the foreigners. 
It was especially curious to see the foreigners eat, and a gazing mob 
constantly surrounded the place where we ate. We tried to get pic- 
tures of these crowds; but, before we could get a proper focus, 
only a few brave ones remained. The majority fled in terror. 

At Hongai the police entered the inn at which we were staying, 
and began to seize the opium and to break the pipes of our coolies. 
The coolies were going to beat the police and would have done it, 
were it not for the interference of our cook, who succeeded in paci- 
fying them. It was some time, however, before the coolies got 
settled down. 

On the tenth of November we reached Erh-hai, a beautiful lake, 
which is thirty miles in length, and surrounded by high mountains. 
Hsia-gwan, on the southern extremity, is an important trading point 
on the route from Yunanfu to Burma. 

The children of this community had a small patch of red cloth 
sewed on the shoulders of their garments. The reason for the red 
patch was a deadly epidemic of measles, which was raging at that 
time. This epidemic, it was believed, was used by the deity of hell 
as a means of securing ten thousand children, of which he was 
in need. Red is a sure protection against the Evil One ; hence the 
red patch. 



On the Journey to Tibet 109 

Tali was our next stop. We were entertained at the home of W. 
H. Hanna, of the China Inland Mission. At this point we secured 
horses to carry pur loads. Our goods were transferred from baskets 
to boxes of a size suitable to be strapped on the backs of Chinese 
ponies and mules. 

Tali was the storm center of the Mohammedan rebellion which 
occurred about half a century ago. It is estimated that ten millions 
of the inhabitants of Yunan province lost their lives as a result of 
this rebellion. The last city to fall was Tali. Here the Mussulmen 
were securely protected by impassable mountains on the east and 
west, and by the impregnable fortresses of Shan-gwan on the north 
and Hsia-gwan on the south. The fertile valley of Erh-hai easily 
supported the population. After a long siege, the Chinese troops 
promised not to loot the city nor kill any of the people if the Moham- 
medans would admit them. The Chinese were admitted, and be- 
haved well for a few days ; but the subtle treachery of the Chinese 
was at the bottom of things. At a given signal, the Chinese troops 
fell on the Mohammedans and slew the entire population — thirty 
thousand people. Within the city wall there is a huge mound in 
which there are over ten thousand Mohammedans buried. It is 
twenty-five feet high and one hundred twenty-five feet in diameter. 
Beside the mound there is a ditch through which a small stream 
passes under the city wall. Through this opening the terrified peo- 
ple attempted to escape. A corpulent man got stuck in the passage 
and dammed the water. This accident barred the only way of 
escape, and collected the fleeing Mohammedans in one place — all 
had made for the ditch. The Chinese surrounded them and slaugh- 
tered them mercilessly. The dead were stacked in the high mound 
referred to above. There are three other such mounds without the 
wall, but they are not quite so large as the one within the wall. 

We left Tali on the eighteenth of November. After we left 
Shan-gwan, we did not come to a town of any importance until 
Likiang. At night we put up at little mountain hamlets, and at 
noon we ate in the open where water could be obtained. Along the 
Erh-hai, there are plenty of wild ducks. Mr. Baker shot four, and 
we enjoyed several meals of fried duck. Fifteen miles north of 
Tali, we came to a place where there were a nimiber of hot springs. 



110 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

The steam rose from them for considerable distance along their 
courses. The water at the source was quite hot. The rooms in 
which we slept at night were in private homes. They were the 
"spare rooms," and were usually half filled with corn and other 
farm produce. 

We arrived at Likiang on November twenty-second. Mr. Kok, 
a Dutch missionary of the Pentecostal Missionary Union, met us 
and conducted us to his home. We spent the night with him. Mr. 
and Mrs. Kok and their two little boys, Peter and Paul, were de- 
lightful people. They speak English. We had a very pleasant visit 
with them. 

A short distance from Likiang we came to the Yangtze, and fol- 
lowed its course for several days. At this point the Yangtze is a 
narrow, rushing stream about a hundred yards wide, and with high, 
rocky banks. The mountains here are almost barren. Agriculture 
is impossible, and the people live by raising goats, large flocks of 
which could be seen along the sides of the mountains. 

On the twenty-sixth of November we left the Yangtze and 
crossed over several high mountain passes. One of these is eleven 
thousand and another twelve thousand feet high. The sides of the 
latter are covered with a heavy growth of a large variety of wood. 
Near the summit is a heavy growth of large pine. At the top of 
the mountain there is a barren space one mile in length. This place 
is infested with robbers. The day we passed through a party was 
robbed. We saw a quantity of rice on the ground. The robbers 
had dropped it while hastening away at our approach. 

We had an escort of "Tribes people," armed with bows and ar- 
rows. This may sound very ancient ; but, in the hands of our escort, 
these weapons are very effective. While resting at noon time, three 
of our escort gave us an exhibition of their skill in archery. They 
shot at a spruce stump one foot in diameter and forty yards distant. 
One arrow went exactly into the center of the stump ; another struck 
a little below the center; the third missed the stump. The arrows 
that struck the stump were in so deep that they could not be with- 
drawn. Besides this accuracy, which is good for a hundred yards, 
these weapons are made more deadly in warfare by the use of poi- 
soned arrows. Near the head of the arrow there is a small neck filled 



On the Journey to Tibet 111 

with a deadly poison. The arrow cannot be withdrawn without 
breaking the head off. The result is certain death, unless a surgeon 
be immediately available. 

The houses in these regions are very rude structures. The first 
story is built of mud, and serves as a stable. The second story is 
built of small logs, which are fitted together after the fashion of the 
log cabin. The roof is composed of rafters, fastened at the top and 
at the walls with thongs of bamboo; strips of wood laid across the 
rafters, also fastened with bamboo ; and short boards put on like 
shingles, and held in place by large stones. Few nails are used in 
the construction of the house. There are no windows and the doors 
are very low — five feet high — very hard on a foreigner's skull. 

The weather was cold and we had trouble keeping ourselves warm. 
The natives did not experience such difficulty. They built a large fire 
in the center of their room, and formed a circle about the warm 
flames. The smoke filled the room, so that no foreigner could stand 
it ; but these people, being inured to such conditions from childhood, 
live happily in the midst of the densest smoke. 

We were delayed at Weisi for four days. It was difficult to get 
horses to go further north, as the road is very dangerous and fodder 
scarce. Finally we got the horses to go as far as Shedji — four days 
north of Weisi. 

At Hsia-Weisi we came to the Mekong, a narrow, rushing tor- 
rent. Occasionally it is crossed by a curious bridge. A rope, made 
of bamboo, is stretched across the river and fastened to posts on 
either side. One end of the rope is elevated. At this end, the per- 
son who wishes to cross places a hollow piece of wood over the rope, 
fastens himself with a strap to the hollow piece of wood, and shoots 
down to the other side of the river. We saw horses and goods sent 
across the river in this manner. 

At this place — Hsia-Weisi — two Catholic priests were killed four- 
teen years ago. Their compound was also looted. An interesting 
story is told of the death of the man who carried the spoil from 
the compound. It was after night and the man was naturally 
afraid. He had not gone very far when he heard a rattling in the 
box ; and, thinking the noise to be caused by a spirit, he began to 
run. As he ran, the noise became louder. He was so terrified that 



112 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

he was afraid to stop and untie the box, which was strapped on his 
back. The result was that he ran so hard that he died within a 
short time after he arrived at his destination. Forty miles south 
of Hsia-Weisi, on the Mekong, two German explorers met their 
death at the hands of the natives. This happened twenty years ago, 
as the explorers were attempting to follow the course of the 
Mekong. 

The road along the Mekong is very rough and dangerous. For 
the most part, one has to trust "horse sense" in the literal meaning 
of the phrase. The ponies are more sure-footed than men and walk 
along fearlessly on the narrow paths, chiseled out of the side of a 
precipice, where a false step would mean death. A man walked 
before the caravan and sounded a large gong, in order to warn any 
approaching party. In some places it is impossible for horses to 
pass each other ; and in a few places, the loads had to be taken off 
of the horses. The road was so narrow that an animal with a load 
could not pass. On the right was perpendicular rock; underfoot, a 
rocky path, a foot and a half wide ; and on the left, a drop of two 
hundred feet to the foaming, rushing waters of the Mekong. 

Mrs. MacLeod had a dangerous ride in the sedan chair. She had 
to get out and walk many times. In one place, a shower of stones 
came rushing down the side of the mountain and some of them hit 
the chairmen, as they were trying to walk across a steep place, where 
the path had been obliterated. 

The most dangerous places are where the road consists of a rough 
scaffolding against the side of the mountain. Branches are spread 
on the scaffolding and covered with stones and clay. When these 
are new they are safe ; but, as they are never repaired until they give 
away, one never knows when they are safe. One of them gave way 
under the second horse behind mine ; and the horse and load rolled 
down a steep bank into the river. The horse and load belonged to 
a Tibetan party which had joined our caravan. Fortunately the 
horse was not killed, although the slope to the river was very steep 
and a hundred feet high. 

The people along the way from Shedji to Atuntzu are Tibetans. 
These are very much like the Highland Scotch — very superstitious, 
frank in expression, laugh heartily, and get violently angry; are 



On the Journey to Tibet 113 

kind-hearted and cruel; in short, they are an easily read example 
of the paradoxes of human life — a striking contrast to the inscruta- 
ble Chinese. 

Atuntzu is eleven thousand feet above sea-level and is very cold. 
We were compelled to stay here for six days. We could not get 
enough horses to take our loads. As a last resort, we sent half of 
our loads on ahead, and left the other half to be forwarded later. 
Our provisions were carried by "Ula," a custom which the Chinese 
have forced on the Tibetans. This custom was originally intended 
for the benefit of Chinese officials ; and, in many cases, worked hard- 
ship on the people. "Ula" means that the people of one village have 
to furnish transportation for officials to the next village. Foreigners 
are classed as officials, but they always pay for their transportation, 
whereas the Chinese officials do not always do so. 

Thirty miles southwest of Atuntzu, on the Mekong Divide, there 
is a magnificent snow mountain, which is twenty-two thousand feet 
high. It is considered sacred by the Tibetans ; and large numbers 
of pilgrims from Lhasa and other parts of Tibet may, at any time, 
be seen passing through Atuntzu. We saw several bands of these 
pilgrims. They carried their provisions on the backs of sheep, 
which, after they have walked around the snow mountain, are con- 
sidered sacred. These pilgrims endure great hardships. Many of 
them never complete the pilgrimage. Mr. Perronne, a musk mer- 
chant at Atuntzu, told us that there was one ravine, near the foot 
of the mountain, into which so many people and animals had fallen 
that there were ten feet of bones at the bottom of the ravine. The 
pilgrimage completed assures the pilgrim of peace and prosperity 
in this life, and Nirvana in the life to come. 

Our caravan from Atuntzu to Batang was very small. We had 
with us only provisions, bedding, and other necessities. These were 
carried on the backs of ponies, mules, yaks, cows, and people. 

Five days north of Atuntzu, at Yendjin, there are salt wells which 
produce large quantities of salt. At this place we met with our first 
accident. Mrs. MacLeod fell downstairs and fractured a rib, 
loosened a tooth, and cut her head. It is hardly right to say that 
she fell downstairs; rather, she fell into the place where the stairs 
ought to be. The stairway, in a Tibetan house, consists of a square 



114 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

hole in the floor and a notched log, serving as stairsteps. Mrs. Mac- 
Leod forgot about the presence of this dangerous place, and, while 
walking across the room in the dark, stepped into it and fell eight 
feet to the ground. The notched log impeded her fall, but frac- 
tured one of her ribs. 

It is a five days' journey from Yendjin to Batang. The road is 
very mountainous — some passes thirteen thousand feet high. The 
view from these high passes is wonderful. Tremendous snowpeaks, 
covered with perpetual snow, lift their heads on all sides. The tem- 
perature is very cold at night, but pleasant during the day. Two 
days north of Yendjin, we passed through several miles of spruce 
forest. While in this forest, a messenger from Batang met us. He 
was loaded down with a Christmas dinner sent by the folk in our 
mission station. This was an unexpected treat. In an open space 
near the edge of the forest we ate our Christmas dinner. 

During the last three days of the journey we were so anxious to 
reach Batang that we did not fully appreciate the grandeur of the 
country through which we passed — mountains piled on top of moun- 
tains as far as the eye could see and on all sides. 

On December twenty-seventh we crossed the Yangtze. People, 
animals, and provisions were huddled into a large flat-bottomed 
boat. The horses jumped over the sides into the boat, and seemed 
quite expert at that performance. When all was aboard, the boat 
was pushed off the sand and rowed, by means of large oars, to the 
opposite side. 

On the next day we climbed an exceeding high mountain, and in 
the evening descended into the beautiful valley of Batang (Plain of 
Cows). Hue's account of entering Batang became very real to us: 

"Towards midday the caravan halted at some ruins, to drink a 
cup of tea and eat a handful of tsamba ; we then climbed to the top 
of the red mountain, and from the height of this great observatory, 
admired on our right the magnificent, the enchanting plain of Ba- 
tang. We found ourselves all at once transported, as it were by 
magic, into the presence of a country which offered to our view all 
the wonders of the richest and most varied vegetation. The con- 
trast, above all, was striking. On one side, a somber, barren, moun- 
tainous region, almost throughout a desert ; on the other, on the con- 



On the Journey to Tibet 115 

trary, a joyous plain, where numerous inhabitants occupied them- 
selves in fertile fields, in the labors of agriculture. The Chinese 
Itinerary says : 'The canton of Batang is a beautiful plain, a thou- 
sand lis in length, well watered by streams and springs ; the sky 
there is clear, the climate pleasant, and everything gladdens the heart 
and eyes of man.' We quickly descended the mountain, and con- 
tinued our journey in a real garden, amid flowering trees and ver- 
dant rice fields. A delicious warmth gradually penetrated our limbs, 
and we soon felt our furred dresses oppressive ; it was nearly two 
years since we had perspired, and it seemed very odd to be warm 
without being before a fire." 

Since Hue's time, Batang and its suburbs have been destroyed by 
an earthquake ; and ten years ago, the war between the Chinese and 
Tibetans caused the destruction of most of the Tibetan houses. 
There are still many staring ruins, but Batang is rapidly recovering 
from the wanton destruction of the Chinese. 

We received a very warm welcome when we reached Batang. 
Some of the natives met us outside the city with firecrackers. Mr. 
Ogden's school lined up along the road and saluted us. All were 
glad to see Mr. Baker back and to greet the new missionaries. Mr. 
Ogden and Dr. Shelton with his two daughters met us at the edge 
of the city. They took us to our own home where the other mis- 
sionaries and children were awaiting our arrival. These good folks 
had equipped our house with necessary furnishings, to be used until 
our own were unpacked. It certainly seemed delightful to live once 
more in a civilized home. 

We left Chicago on the twenty-sixth of August and arrived at 
Batang on the twenty-eighth of December. On the whole, the jour- 
ney was pleasant and interesting. We were glad to reach Batang, 
however, and to settle down to work. 



'Trucking to the Trenches' 



[The following review of "Trucking to the Trenches," by John Iden 
Kautz, ex-'i8, is reprinted from The Indianapolis News.^ 

"Trucking to the Trenches" is a war book that is different. It 
was written by an IndianapoHs man who did not know that he was 
writing a book, regarding a branch of war service that he did not 
know he would enter, and about which little is popularly known. 
The Houghton- Mifflin Company is the publisher. John Iden Kautz, 
a slender lad, whose defective eyes caused him to be refused by the 
American arrny, volunteered for the field service in France — one of 
the hundreds of American college boys who did the same thing in 
the spring of 1917. He expected to drive an ambulance provided by 
his college fraternity, the Phi Delta Theta, but there were delays 
that caused him to take up a service for which there was an imme- 
diate and pressing demand in the French army — that of driving the 
great five-ton motor trucks, whose work is so essential to the success 
of the armies. 

It is a service with which little of what is ordinarily called the 
glory of war is associated, though the trucks are frequently under 
fire, and are subject to their own peculiar dangers. But there is a 
special glory, as this little book unconsciously shows, in accepting 
manfully and devoutly the service nearest at hand and doing some- 
thing of vital usefulness in the great task of preserving the world's 
liberty. 

The book is made up of letters home, written with no intention of 
authorship, and arranged for publication without the writer's knowl- 
edge. "These letters," writes one of the family in the preface, "are 
so interesting and so close to us that we fear almost to give them to 
the world. They are just home letters, and perhaps it would have 
been just as well to keep them — home letters. They are written by 
a boy who is not far from the 'holes in knickerbockers' time, and 
are just the everyday happenings of six months' trucking service." 

But the great American family that the war has made of us will 
be interested, too, in the rapid physical and spiritual development of 
one of its boys into strong manhood, fit to meet great and manly 



"Trucking to the Trenches" 117 

tasks. As the weeks passed, and he felt himself growing in special 
knowledge and usefulness in the task in which men were so badly 
needed, young Kautz abandoned the idea of the ambulance service, 
for which there had been a surplus of volunteers. 

When American recruiting officers arrived in France they waived 
the question of eyesight in view of the value of his experience with 
the French, so that after his six months under a foreign flag he 
joined the American army transport service. 

The letters cover the period of his French service, from the voy- 
age to France to the time of entering the American army. There is 
an interesting sequence to the letters in gradualness of the approach 
to the actualities of war and the battle front. Even in France itself 
there are regions where it seems impossible that this terrible war can 
be near, but the letters show a swift realization of the plight of 
France and a desire of being of service to a country that has borne 
so much. 

Then as training and experience draw the writer nearer and 
nearer to the scenes of battle, there is the desire always to get still 
closer and regret over not being able to go into the front trenches. 
Getting to third or second line trenches and within range of machine 
guns as well as field guns, does not seem enough. The comparative 
safety of the trucks seems cowardly to the young writer desiring to 
do all when so many are risking and giving their lives, but later 
there is reconcilement in the thought of the necessity of the work 
and the wisdom of not uselessly exposing the trucks. 

"I suppose," young Kautz writes after about a month of service, 
"that we can never make the name that the ambulance corps did for 
itself. There is none of the romance or glory, no chance of gaining 
the distinction that the men who came before us honorably did with 
their little ambulances. Mostly it is just hard, plugging, jarring, 
straining labor with five-ton loads, which may be anything from logs 
to shells and nitroglycerin." 

It is interesting to glimpse big battles from an angle unusual to 
war books — that of the transport service. A letter of Sunday, July 
twenty-ninth, for instance, says : "There is a terrible battle on up 
ahead — you will have read of it — on the Craonne plateau. We don't 
get much authentic news, but an English paper only two days old 



118 Butler Alumnal Ouarterly 

that drifted into camp yesterday called it 'a second Verdun,' and we 
are hauling thousands and thousands of shells. 

"For the last three days we have been in no more than four con- 
secutive hours in which we had to get fuel, food, and provisions for 
the next trip. So battles are measured by the rush work of carry- 
ing up shells and other supplies. There are long hours when the 
drivers must go without sleep until they see things." The writer 
tells also in one place of sleeping strapped to a seat and getting a 
violent jolt of the chin on the knees in being waked up by an acci- 
dent. 

A vivid idea of the immensity of the traffic necessary to carry on 
battles is given in the letter of July twenty-ninth. "I suppose," he 
writes, "one can't realize the magnitude of all this till one sees it. 
Can you imagine all the traffic in Michigan boulevard (Chicago) 
turned into trucks and horses going in roads one-third as wide as it 
is, day and night? Can you imagine this happening on every road 
going up to the front in a distance greater than that from Indianap- 
olis to Chicago? 

"The other day we passed five solid miles of horses and guns go- 
ing up — it is not an uncommon sight, but a wonderful one. Think 
what it takes to feed that many men and horses, then multiply by 
thousands. Think that beyond the rail terminals it must all be 
hauled by horses and motor car. Then there are the shells. We are 
only one section of twenty-four cars out of more than two hundred 
thousand, yet every time we load with shells the load, exclusive of 
the cars, which are exceedingly valuable, is between $78,000 and 
$100,000 worth, depending on the kind. We are learning to shrug 
our shoulders and say : 'C'est la guerre' in the best French fashion 
now to almost everything that goes wrong." 

Again and again the writer speaks of the remarkable luck of the 
American truck drivers in escaping death, as compared with others 
in the same service, but he notes in a September letter : "The boys 
are behaving splendidly when we get in tight places. Last night 
when the boche were shrapnel sniping at a pare, the bunch sat back 
and sang 'A Perfect Day' and laughed. To-night as they are pre- 
paring to go on they are whistling, though they are hollow-eyed with 
fatigue." 



"Trucking to the Trenches" 119 

Yet with prolonged and exhausting hours of work and with ex- 
posure to the almost constant rains and mud floundering, this slender 
youth seems to have thrived in health and been unusually free of 
colds. In a letter of September twenty-ninth he writes : 

"To-day is my second full day of rest in twenty-four days, and it 
was naturally welcome. I have had ten hours of sleep, the first bath 
for two weeks, a shirt hunt for fleas, have patched up the holes the 
mice chewed in my blankets, had a late breakfast of cold coffee and 
mouldy bread, and shall spend the next few hours in writing letters. 
The sort of thing I have just written looks rather odd in print [type- 
written print], but really it isn't bad. For a little while my more or 
less fastidious sense revolted, but I soon got used to it all, and the 
way I have thrived under conditions certainly indicates that it 
doesn't hurt any one. I have stored up enough good health the last 
four' months to last me the rest of my life. We sort of live by com- 
parison over here, anyhow. The other fellow is almost always worse 
off than you are, so you count yourself lucky in any event, and let it 
go at that." 

Many times in the letters the writer expresses gratitude over be- 
ing able to do a bit toward relieving some older man of France from 
the exhausting duty which his younger body is better fitted to per- 
form. In a letter of November twentieth, he says : 

"Lately there have been many long and difficult trips and we have 
been so short-handed that, where the French sections we are with 
have two drivers to the car and extra relief, we have had only one 
driver and no relief. It is a good thing we are young, for older 
eyes and 'tireder' bodies couldn't stand the strain of continual days 
and nights. As it is we have weird fancies and 'see things' a lot, but 
get through somehow. 

"May we brag just a bit to say we only wrecked one car and 
smashed three on the last trip, while the Frenchmen dropped them 
over cliffs, tore down bridges, hung them in trees, and turned them 
over and burned them all along 150 miles of road. Don't blame the 
Frenchmen, though — three years of it have worn their nerve and 
stolen their 'night eyes.' Try turning off your lights some night 
when you are driving through the country, rain or fog — try just a 
minute of it and compute the nervous strain of six hours of that 
through trafifiic." 



120 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Previous letters told how the motor trucks must travel entirely 
without lights. 

Again in a letter a few days later — November twenty-sixth — is 
this : "It is rather laughable ; on the very evening when I wrote you 
that we were dug in for the winter and that the work would not be 
bad at all, they ordered us out, and we've been on the road five days 
and nights, stopping only now and then to fill the cars with gas and 
oil. 

"It has been rather terrible, the worst we've ever had. I drove 
alone, and for the first two days and nights I never left the wheel. 
There was no food, for the supply trains were hopelessly wrecked, 
and I went all that time on half a can of salmon and some hard- 
tack and chocolate. 

"You don't have any idea what that means, do you? Forty-eight 
hours with your fingers cramped around a steering wheel, rain beat- 
ing in your face and stinging your eyes till they cried and stung and 
stuck half shut, straining to see in the dark, fighting the wheel and 
fighting sleep, knowing that if the latter got you the former would 
too; passing the wrecks of carloads of troops that had toppled over 
and wounded their charges ; fighting that which we most dread, the 
fire underneath in the brakebands that creeps toward the gas tanks 
before you know it's there. 

"There will be more of that to-morrow. We are far to the north 
of the desolate plains of Flanders, helping the English in their splen- 
did push on Cambrai. To-day we rest, and God knows we need it. 
I slept eight hours last night lying in the mud under my car, which 
was too fully loaded to climb into. There is oil and mud in my face 
and in my hair, I have not shaved for a week, my clothing is torn 
and burned and water-soaked, and I'm cold to the bone. 

"Really I thought in a half-delirious sort of way that I was going 
to die or go mad like Clarke, and have to be choked unconscious. 
He, poor chap, after ditching his car four times and having it catch 
on fire once, went completely. Practically all of us were 'seeing 
things.' I can laugh at it now, but not so then. 

"You see, the salmon had been open much too long. I knew it, 
but I was starved; so the ptomaine caught me at the wheel. I re- 
member laughing crazily a long time as I drove. Once I 'shyed' at 



From Our Soldier Boys 121 

something on the road and crashed through a fence, but came up 
in time to keep from going over." 

There are many pleasant touches of Ughter incidents in the book. 
One of the finest things about it is the spirit the letters show of de- 
sire to serve, and the spiritual effect of being confronted with tre- 
mendous facts of the war, though there is no readily quotable pas- 
sage to illustrate this. It is the more impressive because one feels 
that it is representative of the spirit of young America generally, and 
it is the consolation for the pain that thousands of American fam- 
ilies must suffer in the losses that have come and must come in far 
greater measure. 

Young Kautz served gladly with the French, but he was more 
glad to join the American army. "It is good to have American food 
and clothing again, and officers who speak your own language and 
understand your Wiays," he writes. "One feels a little better to be 
under one's own flag — something that means a lot more than you 
think until you've tried another." 



From Our Soldier Boys 

"'7^/.y God's voice calls ; how could I stayV 

Lieutenant Myron M, Hughel, '17, Camp Funston: This is 
Commencement Day at Butler, and to-day and during the past few 
days when commencement festivities have been going on in Irvington 
memory has been particularly strong of the college, the class of 1917, 
and my old college friends. When some four hundred officers arrived 
here in what seemed in December to be the most unsatisfactory place 
on earth to live, we were repeatedly urged to discipline ourselves 
in the matter of writing or talking about the military in any way by 
which it might get into print. In many camps there is wide publicity 
of events and aspects of training, but here we were impressed with 
the importance of forming the habit of avoiding print in order that 
later when real information was to be concealed we would have no 
tendency to do otherwise with it. But I am sure that no one could 
find it amiss for me to write now a letter for the Quarterly that 



122 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

I may express to my friends in the faculty and to my classmates 
and to all my Butler friends my hearty good wishes for them all 
this day. 

Funston would be a lonely sort of place if it were not that we are 
kept busy all of the time and that the spirit of the army is one of 
such genuine comradeship. The camp is barren as can be. There 
is grass, of course, in spots and on the hills surrounding the canton- 
ment on all sides, but among all these plain, monotonous wooden 
buildings there is not a single tree. Nor is there any such diversion 
for hours off duty as there is in some camps situated near large 
cities. We are about half-way between two little towns that have 
very little of the quality of attraction about them. We have better 
entertainment on the Zone, in the middle of the cantonment, than 
we can expect when we go to town. 

But we have had a chance to do some good hard work and the 
interest of every one in Funston is centered on the object of our 
training. For a time I was on duty enforcing quarantine in the de- 
tention camp here, and later was attached to the division personnel 
office, but for the past few weeks I have been drilling recruits. 
Throughout all my associations with the men of all ranks here I 
have been impressed with the wonderful spirit of our National 
Army. Drafted men? No! Their spirit rather bears out Presi- 
dent Wilson's significant remark that the men who are called are 
merely called by selection from a nation which volunteers in mass. 
They come with a conception of why they are here that makes 
them, with few exceptions, willing and ready to work hard to learn 
what they must learn to be able to do their best against the Ger- 
man menace. In all ranks is this readiness to work and this eager- 
ness to learn that will eventually make the National Army effective 
as a fighting force and famous as a real factor in the war. It is a 
serious-minded army that Uncle Sam is going to pit against the out- 
law nations, and it cannot but win. 

It is mighty hot here now and no way of escaping old Sol's fury. 
It seems that Kansas has a climate of extremes. I frosted my ears 
time and time again in the sharp winds that raced through this val- 
ley during the winter months until we were permitted to wear the 
knitted helmets ; and yet the sun is beating down so hard now that 



», 

From Our Soldier Boys 123 

one's feet almost burn if one stands at attention very long in a place. 
We all wear leather chinstraps here and you would be amused to 
see how each man's coat of tan is interrupted by a line of white 
down each cheek under the chinstrap. 

I think of Butler and my old friends often and hope sincerely that 
they may continue to prosper. 

Lieutenant Earl T. Bonham : As to that statement about be- 
ing an officer of the first company that got a shot at the boche, I 
might tell you that I was an officer in the first regiment to get the 
first crack. You know that we went up to the front with quite a few 
men and quite a few batteries, and as to which of aboul; ten bat- 
teries fired the first shot is still unsettled. However, I might as 
well claim it though, for no one knows for sure. 

To comply strictly with the censorship regulations would be but 
to tell about my health and the weather, but I will tell you that we 
are at the front and giving them hell all the time. The boche had 
an idea that they were tough, and the other night came over imder 
a barrage to try to clean us up. To their sorrow, however, we were 
on the job and placed a cute little barrage behind them so they 
could not get back to their trenches. There they stood between the 
devil and the deep blue sea, between two barrages through which they 
could not pass. Our machine guns stretched out a bunch of them 
in No Man's Land, and as soon as their barrage had lifted to enable 
them to come on into our trenches, they came — as wild a bunch of 
scrappers as ever greeted any one. Of course some of our boys 
were stretched out, but they killed a bunch of Huns and captured 
the rest. It is believed that not an invader got back to his trenches. 

I don't know whether I ought to tell this stuff or not, but you 
called for something of the adventurous nature, and if there is any- 
thing more so than a trench raid, I don't know what it is. 

Lieutenant Justus W. Paul, '15 : We are finally on our way 
across, but it has not been any pleasure trip so far. There were a 
thousand and one little things that came up at the last minute and 
kept us on the jump. After we embarked there were just about as 
many details to look after. 

We have a good boat and a fine bunch of officers. There are two 



124 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Y. M. C. A. men and they have a movie machine and other means 
of entertainment, so we shall not lack for recreation. The guard 
and other details keep us busy part of the time. The other time is 
devoted to reading, playing cards, etc. There is a big ship library 
and in addition a large Y. M. C. A. library. One of the main pas- 
times is listening to tales of "subs" from the ship officers. They 
have some dandies. * * * 

We are floating about in the war zone now and should be in port 
in a couple of days. There hasn't been any excitement of any kind 
and I hardly anticipate any as we have a sufficient convoy. The 
most daring "sub" wouldn't have much of a chance to get us, and 
if she did we have plenty of boats and rafts. The food is fairly 
good. I haven't missed a meal yet and have had several extras. 
The worst part is the darkness at night. Everybody goes to bed 
about eight. Can't even smoke at night. I have been on watch up 
in the crow's nest two days out of every three. We work in four 
reliefs — two hours on and six oif. It is rather hard on sleep, but is 
quite an experience and breaks the monotony. * * * 

We are finally here and settled temporarily. We are quartered in 
wooden barracks much the same as those we had at Fort Harrison. 
Everything is so beautiful and so quaint and yet so sad and some- 
what run down that you seem to be swallowed up by the environ- 
ment. Spring is here, the grass is green, the brightest green I ever 
saw — and flowers — every house has a flower garden that would 
dazzle your eyes. The houses are quaint little affairs with colored 
trimmings, the main part always being white. The whole town 
seems like a spot of heaven to see it from a little distance, but when 
you get down into it, there is the steady flow of black along the 
street. Women of all stations and ages are dressed in mourning 
and yet they are so brave — always smiling and bright. I don't 
think I shall ever forget my first impressions here. * * * 

I was away up in central France the other day — rather three days, 
on special duty. I passed through many interesting towns and 
places but can't give the names. I met a lieutenant from Fort Har- 
rison there. He was also at Hattiesburg. Chrisman is his name. 
We had a fine chat. * * * 

Just came off guard. Have been on twenty-four hours as usual, 



From Our Soldier Boys 125 

only Jimmy fell in a river last night and as a result I had to stand 
the whole tour. Usually we divide it. * * * it is so hard not 
to write of all the interesting things I see every day. There are so 
many things to be done here and they have to be done at once so 
we hardly know what to expect in the way of duty. There is one 
thing I want to have spread around. Tell any one you see who is in 
the army, that it is not necessary to bring tobacco. We can get all 
we want at our own canteens and at the commissary and the price 
is better than at home. But every one does need a canvas basin and 
bucket, * * * 

The company nearly went crazy when the mail came. They don't 
have much chance to write and I suppose a lot of people in the 
States don't write to them because they don't get answers. If every 
one knew the eagerness with which the men wait for mail, every one 
would write to a soldier. It makes tears come to your eyes to see 
the expressions on the faces of the men who don't get any letters. 

* * * Now I am going to study a little French. I am getting 
along fairly well but it is slow work. However, I shall be able to 
give Dad some lessons in slang and trench idioms. * * * There 
is a party down at the Officers' Club to-night — rather, an entertain- 
ment. Some music, a bit of elocution, a cup of tea, and a cake. 

* * * There doesn't seem to be any idea of our leaving this part 
for some time. No doubt you are glad to hear that, but it is very 
dull and uninteresting. I much prefer to be throwing shells at the 
Huns. * * ♦ 

I have lots of news this time. Bob Kennington landed Sunday. 
He came down to see me last night and we went around town a bit, 
but I had an engagement with a French officer and his wife. He is 
adjutant at a big prison camp near here and is going to take me 
through the camp some day. There are about 3,500 boches there. 

* * * 

Had some more visitors to-day. Halford Johnson — you remem- 
ber him at Butler, perhaps — and McGuire, who was first sergeant 
of Battery F in the 139th. * * * j have a great many friends 
here. I go out to see several French families and could not ask for 
nicer people. And we have some very funny experiences, too. Yes- 
terday the captain of Company K brought his company to attention 



126 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

and saluted a man who looked for all the world like a French gen- 
eral, but who turned out to be a postman. And I have heard dozens 
of Americans ask for "des yeux" instead of "oeufs." I have a din- 
ner engagement to-night with a French family. 

Merrill J. Woods, ex-'18 : In the first place I want to thank you 
for the Quarterly. The three years that I spent at Butler are ban- 
ner years as I look backward. I would probably have graduated 
with this year's class, had not the hand of destiny beckoned me else- 
where. That elsewhere at the present happens to be Camp Shelby, 
but the hand is pointing more and more in the direction of early 
service across the seas. 

You have probably heard much of army life, and I won't bore 
you with an account of the deadly routine which stands out as the 
most prominent feature of it. In the ordnance corps, our work 
varies mostly in the amount of it that has to be done each day. 
Ordnance work consists in the handling of the fighting materials of 
an army. All guns and ammunition are handled by our organiza- 
tion. The work calls for expert armorers, qualified munition work- 
ers, and experienced storehouse keepers. I have about completed 
my apprentice course in all branches except the ammunition section, 
which I expect to start on in about three weeks. In addition to the 
two hours of classroom work each day, I am on duty at the supply 
division four hours a day and have three hours of rifle drill. This 
just about keeps a man busy, don't you think? 

The real part of staying at Camp Shelby is in keeping cool these 
days, when it is a cool day if the temperature gets below ninety de- 
grees. I feel at times that I am not doing nearly so much for the 
good of the service as I could elsewhere, but right now I haven't 
much choice. 

Lieutenant H. U. Brown, Jr., '19 : May 3 — We are getting what 
we came over here to get — action. If we were to stop to think 
about it we would find we were dead tired because night and day we 
are on the go. We were out last night at eleven o'clock and did not 
get back until after daylight, but we accomplished our purpose. The 
future seems to be full of just such "parties," but ammunition sup- 
plies have to go up and we cannot win the war if we quit when we 



From Our Soldier Boys 127 

feel tired. But we know the Germans lose as much sleep as we do, 
and probably more from the way the guns are barking. We live in 
an old chateau perched on a wooded hill. It is of ancient date and 
furnishings. I found in my room an old book, written in English 
and printed in 1718, dealing on the subject of religion. Just now I 
am reading "Prayers for Sick Persons." Fortunately, I am not sick. 
Some of these prayers, I fear, would really kill a sick man, and yet 
they are good stuff when one is in a prayerful mood. 

I feel myself lucky in getting over here. Some of the officers of 
my acquaintance are going home for a few months to train the new 
army, but all of us would rather stay over and see this thing through. 
Time passes swiftly. There is no chance to get homesick. We try 
to see the comedy side of every incident, and our battery from cap- 
tain down is as cheerful a lot of men as one could find. War is not 
so bad if you don't pay too much attention to the horrible side of it. 
A laugh and a cartoon will help to drive the blues away, and in 
no degree contribute to the welfare of the enemy, nor to the mis- 
fortune of your own men. I know that Paul [brother of the writer] 
is not downhearted, and you know I am not. 

May 5 — I must stop the letter I have just started, because some 
sixth sense tells me that a package is about to be received. Sure 
enough, here it comes, and with it the "gang" came in. The pack- 
age was duly appreciated by the multitude. One lieutenant as he 
consumed a cigarette and a portion of the chocolate, settled himself 
comfortably and absorbed the most welcome reading matter, re- 
marking: "After all, magazines are the best things to send." 

It is extraordinarily quiet to-night, possibly because it is Sunday, 
at least I think it is that day. It is hard to keep up on the days of 
the week when they are all alike. Speaking of horses, I have one 
that outranks the steed we used on the Mexican border. He is hard 
to see unless you get a side view, because he is not exactly what you 
would call plump. Among his other qualifications he is afraid of 
automobiles and shell fire. As both of these are common articles 
(we are near the roads) you can imagine what a good time I have. 
When he hears a shell coming he begins to shiver and shake, and 
when the shell bursts he leaps sideways into the ditch. W'hen he 
hears a machine coming he stops until it gets even with him and 



128 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

then wheels, plunges, and lies down. This horse makes walking a. 
pleasure. 

But this poor beast has been my friend, and I feel compassion for 
him, for the same shell that got me upset the "critter" and rendered 
him sure enough "hors" de combat. 

May 14 — Well here I am with a bandage around my head and 
another around my leg, wounded in the biggest show of the war and 
now lying up in the best hospital in the world. I have borrowed pen 
and paper from one of the nurses to write you a line about the little 
affair. By the time this reaches you, you will have learned already 
of my being slightly wounded. It happened when I got too close to 
a bursting shell. I received a scalp injury above my left ear and a 
flesh wound on the left thigh. Neither one of them amounts to much 
but Red Cross people lost no time in giving me first aid and ship- 
ping me back to this hospital. 

It only took about three hours in all for me to be hit, transferred 
about twenty miles to the rear in a Ford ambulance, have the pieces 
of steel cut out and sink into sound sleep enjoying ether dreams. I 
thought the stretcher bearers were making a mistake when the am- 
bulance stopped in front of this mansion. They took me up the 
marble steps and in past the bronze doors. I was afraid to take a 
deep breath for fear I would wake myself up. They put me down 
in a big hall. 

A lady comes up and sticks a cigarette in my mouth, lights it and 
remarks, "After you have had your bath you will just get in bed in 
time for your breakfast." And Sherman said war was hell ! This 
good hospital is operated by the French, and is one grand relief after 
being so long in dugouts and billets. Six others share this good 
ward with me — an English officer, a doctor from the foreign legion, 
an American lieutenant in the aviation, another lieutenant of artil- 
lery, a captain of a machine gun battalion, and signal corps major. 
A sister of M. Clemenceau is a nurse in this ward, or at least she is 
around a great deal. She is a noble character. She has been dec- 
orated three times for service, and has such a motherly nature that 
one can feel her presence in the room even if one is sleeping. She 
speaks a little English, and says our men are splendid and show won- 
derful spirit and courage in the hospitals. I do not expect to be 
here long. I should be back for duty in a week. 



From Our Soldier Boys 129 

May 16 — This is only my fourth day in the hospital, and I already 
feel like an old-timer at this game. I would be enjoying myself 
thoroughly with little to do but sleep in absolute silence on downy 
pillows, if it were not for the thought that somebody back home 
might get a report of my injury and worry. But I guess there is 
bound to be some worrying during this whole war. I am well taken 
care of, and by the time you see these words I shall probably be 
back with the battery, where I will try not to get wounded again. 
But be assured of this fact, if either Paul or I get injured, or if any 
one in America fears for the injury of his son, remember the Red 
Cross is taking good care of us. I know now what I am talking 
about. 

Some American nurses dropped in to see us. They were the first 
American girls I had seen since I left New York eight months ago. 
One of them gave me a tablet from which this sheet is torn. One 
gave cigarettes and they all donated flowers and oranges. They 
were "some gang," with lots of pep and fun. Another bright period 
in the history of my stay here was when my friend, the aviator, 
whose bunk is next to mine, was visited by his group of brother 
aviators. That also was "some gang." They shook this old hos- 
pital from stem to stern. I guess they violated all the known rules 
of the institution. They insisted on seeing the wounded man's in- 
juries, they ate the cookies the nurses had brought him, they scuf- 
fled within reason with him and with me and with one another and 
generally had a "swell" time. They were a fine group of young 
fellows, full of life and every one of them (there were seven) had 
a decoration of some kind and some had all of them. Their stay 
was prolonged, possibly in the hope that the fair nurses would come 
in, but the nurses know better and had important work in other 
wards where the really sick and suffering are receiving their ten- 
derest care. We get along so well in this ward that we really don't 
need much attention and they give us pretty much our own way. 

May 18 — We have here a French aviator that was wounded the 
other day when six Germans attacked him. He was far over the 
boche lines but he won his way back to safety, bringing some im- 
portant photographs along. He was hit in the leg by a machine gun 
bullet but the Croix de Guerre he is now sporting on his night shirt 



130 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

(it was brought in to him last night) seems more than to make up 
for his injury. I find myself in good condition. My head is almost 
healed up but my leg is going to keep me here for some time. They 
don't allow wounds to heal up in a hurry. They keep them open, 
making them heal up solidly from the bottom. I have plenty of 
time to think of you folks back home, tearing down strawberry 
shortcakes every day. Well, don't worry about us. We are also 
having a good time. Pretty soon I will be allowed to go out into 
the park, and later on into town — oh, boy ! After six months in the 
mud — look out ! 

May 23 — I have been transferred from Hospital No. 1 and am 
now at Base Hospital No. 34. Part of my time is spent now in 
wondering if I am justified in cursing my leg. It is not painful at 
all but will take time to heal. Somebody tells me I can count on 
a month, which is quite a disgusting admission to have to make. The 
wound itself as made by a shell fragment was small, but the doctor 
had to do a deal of cutting to get it and so I have to sit around now 
and wait for the blankety blank cut to get well. 

The wounds around my ear have healed, but I guess I shall have 
a couple of beauty spots there. At any rate those scars shall be 
treated with all due respect. It is a rather hard job to lie in a hos- 
pital, even as good a one as this is, far away from the battery, when 
one knows that they are holding the line, and that every man could 
be of some help (at least he always thinks so) if he were there. The 
country about here is beauitful. I am not so far from the old school 
where I spent my first three months in France. I didn't think I 
would be going back along the same line some day on a stretcher. 
Neither did I think that day we went to Ft. Harrison that just a 
year to a day from that date I would be taking a ride in an ambu- 
lance over here. However, I am willing to take another ride in it 
if it will help win the war. We are not afraid of being wounded, be- 
cause we know of the good treatment of the hospitals. Well, the 
doctor is here to probe around in that leg. I might not use strictly 
classical or Sunday school language if I wrote during his explora- 
tions and so I close and give him the right of way. 



The Sixty-Third Commencement 

The commencement was in every respect a war commencement. 
The spirit of the week was dominated by thoughts about the great 
war. Every theme of address or talk centered upon the war. What- 
ever decoration was used, it was the colors of our native land. In- 
separable from the stars and stripes floated our service flag. No 
thoughts, no words, no hopes or prayers excluded our absent boys. 
This deep feeling of appreciation and constant reiteration of in- 
debtedness to the distant students was impressive — very impressive. 
And with it all followed a dedication of self to their great task. A 
solemnity pervaded the atmosphere of the week — not depressing, 
but purifying and uplifting. 

BACCALAUREATE SERMON 

The baccalaureate sermon was preached by Dr. Frederick E. 
Lumley, of the College of Missions, in the chapel, on Sunday after- 
noon, June ninth, at four o'clock. It is given elsewhere in this issue. 

PHILOKURIAN REUNION 

The reunion of the Philokurian Literary Society was held Mon- 
day evening, June tenth, in the Philo hall. The attendance was not 
large, but a splendid spirit prevailed and the program was thor- 
oughly enjoyed. Old times came back and all appeared once more 
in the heyday of college life. 

After the devotional exercises and roll call, Mary Louise Rum- 
pier, '17, sang. Mr. Everett Scofield, '09, president of the Philo 
Alumni Association, spoke of the organization and purpose of these 
annual gatherings. He then introduced B. F. Dailey, '87, who com- 
pared the old time Philokurian Society with the present day ten- 
dency. He said he thought he understood the spirit of up-to-date 
Philo and would offer some remarks on the subject of "Love, Court- 
ship, and Marriage." Miss Muriel Brown, ex-, read two war poems, 
and Miss Jean Brown, '19, told something of the social side of 
Philo at the present time. Harry Martindale, '11, read selections 
from his original Philo poems, which were enjoyed, as they always 



132 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

have been. Speeches were also made by Edward Baird, '09; Kath- 
arine Martin, '12, and Carl Means, '14. All spoke of their debt to 
the society and their interest in its welfare. 

For over forty years the Philokurian Society has been a vital 
factor in Butler College life. Its alumni number hundreds and it 
is hoped that the annual gathering next year will be largely attended. 
The following officers were elected for the coming year : President, 
Everett Scofield, '09; vice-president, Mae Hamilton, '18; secretary- 
treasurer, Catharine Martin, '12. 

CLASS DAY 

The Seniors on Wednesday morning at 10 o'clock were greeted 
by a well-filled chapel. The following program was presented : 

Piano Solo Miss Ruth Cannaday 

Poem Wallace Wadsworth 

Violin and Piano.... Misses Eda Bachman and Cannaday 

History Miss Mildred Morgan 

Piano Solo Miss Cannaday 

Prophecy Class of 1918 

"One Word More" Miss Mary Padou 

The poem, history, and closing words are given. A unique feature 
of the program was the presentation of the class prophecy in 
dramatic form, written by Miss Mary Virginia Kingsbury. The 
play represented the class holding its first reunion twenty years 
hence in the old chapel. After handshakings and greetings and 
identification of the dramatis personae, the class is called to order 
by the president of 1918, Richard Moore, who, after a few intro- 
ductory remarks, presents the speakers of the occasion : 

"The Professors as I Remember Them".... Mildred Hill 

"Some Recollections of Butler" Neil Kershaw 

"How Butler Has Helped Me in Tibet" 

Opal Burkhardt 
"Our Soldier Members" Katharine Burton 

Then all adjourn to a class dinner. Following the exit. Miss Mary 
Padou appears upon the platform and says : 



Commencement Week 133 

I am the Spirit of Butler College. I sprang from the head and 
heart of a great man as Athena of old sprang from the head of 
Jove, the Mighty. Shining heavenly fair with the dazzling bril- 
liancy shed by the light of a great-minded motive and a self-sacri- 
ficing heart, I arose and had my being. 

In the days before my birth other great, noble spirits had arisen 
in the pioneer settlements of Indiana. The spirit of education had 
begun its great work of inspiration, of noble and high endeavor 
for the larger things of mind and heart. Great minds had con- 
ceived great spirits. Caleb Mills had conceived the thought of our 
public school education. But as yet Indianapolis had no institu- 
tion of so-called higher education. Then, in the mind of Ovid But- 
ler the germ of the thought of a college for the city of Indianapolis 
grew and developed until when it had attained full growth, I, the 
spirit of Butler College, was born. 

I, mightier than any institution, mightier than buildings or 
campus, mightier than equipment or endowment — I, the animating 
spirit, which is never daunted and never dies, came forth to do my 
great work in the world. I was to be the pervading influence in the 
lives of many generations. 

What made my existence possible ? Did I owe my being to great 
wealth, to a thoughtless generosity? No, a thousand times, no. 
The man who made my life possible, was not rich. True, he had 
valuable land, but he also had a large and valuable family. Why 
did he not, as is the manner of men, care only for the future of 
his own, and let the remainder take care of themselves? Because 
there was in his heart a great desire for service, a wish to do for 
his fellow men. I was the result of that tremendous wish; I was 
and am a dream come true. 

This dream was not for a restricted college. From the very be- 
ginning the broad, far-seeing mind of its founder had ordained that 
I, under my sheltering wings, should shelter and give of my best to 
all, women as well as men, without regard to race or color. 

From the very beginning of the institution in 1851, when it had 
its home on College avenue, on the original Butler farm, I was 
ever present. Through the patient, plodding years that always char- 
acterize the beginning of any great work, I never faltered. I was 
often weary, but never absent. 



134 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Then came the War of the RebelHon. Butler's men, one hundred 
and fifty strong, went forth to battle. Among them was Joe Gor- 
don. He was my embodiment. He had all my determination and 
hope and youthful enthusiasm. He, with many others, never came 
back. Deep, deep was the wound I felt. 

Wound followed wound, and blow followed blow, for after the 
terrible conflict came the dreadful panic of the seventies. Not only 
the student body, but the funds of the college as well, were depleted. 
The board of trustees decided to move from College avenue to the 
wilds of Irvington, for wilds they then were. That meant prac- 
tically a new beginning, for Irvington was a long way from the 
city of Indianapolis, with a mule car system as the only way of com- 
munication. But dogged determination and sheer will power kept 
me alive, and not only alive but strong and energetic. 

With the years came many influences to help keep my flame 
alight. Occupying the Demia Butler Chair of English Literature, 
the first chair of its kind in the country, was Catharine Merrill. 
Needless for me to state what she has done for me, the Butler Spirit. 
Needless for me to state what Scot Butler has done. They, along 
with others who have preceded and succeeded them, have been the 
contributing powers which have made "mine the figured flame, 
which blends, transcends them all." 

Through all the years that have followed, my dominating quality 
has been the climbing from hope to hope, to realize the longing of 
my founder, his coworkers and disciples. 

But now again, within the past twelve months, I have suffered the 
crudest blow of all, far heavier than that which the Civil War in- 
flicted. As of old, the sons of Butler have answered their nation's 
call. But wherever they be, whether in training camp or trench, I 
am ever with them, ready with inspiration and ennobling love, ever 
recalling to them the best of the best, ever giving to them the far- 
seeing sight which recognizes the optimism of the future, though 
oft it be clouded with smoke and flame and the belching wrath of 
a cruel power. The way lies straight before them. 

And I, the Spirit of Butler College, who through trial and tribu- 
lation have maintained the dignity and inspiration of my very be- 
ginning — I show to you who are here, the vast, unbounded prospect 



Commencement Week 135 

that lies before us. Go, do thy best, and I will always be with you, 
to help you to dare and to do ! 

CLASS POEM 

By Wallace Wadsworth 

When hold the brutal foe his form upreared 

And ruthless tore the torch from Freedom/s hand, 
The sound of a gathering m,ighty storm arose, 
In clouded wrath was righteous might disclosed. 
That darkling spread its shadow o'er the land. 
***** 
I 
Within these halls where learning's fire glows bright, 

With days made full by pleasant little things. 

We worked and loitered, this our world, its bounds 

Our classroom walls, these wooded campus grounds, 

Its peace unmarred by distant strife of kings. 

II 

'Twas here we learned the warmth of friendship's flame, 

Here to the full we lived each present hour. 
We worked a little, played a little more. 
And pierced the veil the future held before 

With dreams engendered by each new-found power. 
Ill 

The paths ahead lay broad and straight and smooth, 

Unshadowed through the vista of the years ; 
But as we gazed, with youthful surety. 
There came a tremor of the earth, and we 

Turned each to each with sudden unknown fears. 
IV 
And then, from out the chaos, there took form — 

Insistent, calm — a voice that all must hear, \ 

A stirring note that drew away our gaze 
From contemplation of those pleasant ways, \ 

The paths whereon our goals had gleamed so clear. | 

i 



136 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

V 

They heard and heeded, those, our comrades, friends, 

Nor mourned the sudden dimming of the sun. 
They left their places here for us to fill ; 
With steady purpose and unfaltering will 

They turned themselves to the task they had begun. 
VI 
And they have gone who but a short while past 

Were here among us, one with us in all 
Our sports and pleasures, — then, o'er night 
It seemed, they heard, and grew to manhood's height, 

With manhood rose in answer to the call. 
VII 
And we, to whom they've left their places here, 

We think ofttimes of them, but are we true 
To their warm surging memory, have we met 
Their glorious unselfish sacrificial debt? 

We've taken their joys ; what of their duties, too? 
VIII 
Beyond us lies the world, a darksome world, 

With myriad needs, with many wounds to bind. 
And mates have gone from us, perhaps to give 
Unto the death for right ; but we must live 

To keep alive the fires they left behind. 
IX 
Our lot is not the battle's bloody wrath. 

Nor is our pathway marked so sharp and clear, 
But, so long as true hearts and loyal minds 
Find undone tasks within our land's confines. 

That long shall we find place for service here. 
***** 
Even now, within the cataclysmic fire, 

Some one of those, perchance, has been struck low. 
Can we not say, for each proud star displayed. 
Here beats true hearts, like them for right, arrayed? 
Shall not we here each swear that solemn vow? 



Commencement Week 137 

HISTORY OF THE CLASS OF 1918 
By Mildred Morgan 

In accordance with the time-honored custom of Butler, we were 
told to write a history, to gather together facts, and, where facts 
and gossipy memory were lacking, to draw on imagination, so 
that in future years when classes less filled with Thomas Taggarts, 
Lew Shanks, Charlie Chaplins, General Glenns, Platos, and Kewpie 
Davis's shall be discouraged of success, they may rake out our his- 
tory and from our past achievements find inspiration. 

Will you go back with me to the fifteenth of September, 1914, 
and behold the class of 1918 as it takes its first street-car ride to 
Butler, and witness its thunderous entrance and open-armed wel- 
come into the portals of Butler College? Filled with tender high 
school memories and egotism, many of us holding tightly to our 
memory books, filled with a superfluous amount of pep and enthu- 
siasm, we came — 129 strong — and undertook to tell Professor Put- 
nam that he didn't know anything about what we should take, and 
President Howe that the campus needed cleaning, that bon ami 
would be good for the windows, and that we would like a new 
"coed" recreation hall. The next day after our arrival, we discov- 
ered that our suggestions had not been fully appreciated, and we 
also discovered that we were rated as nothing more than a raw- 
boned, green-hued bunch of rookies, and that the Butler faculty 
had learned to march to a difljerent tune from "Hail, Hail, the 
Gang's All Here." We were ushered to chapel, where we were told 
that cigarettes belonged on the other side of the railroad track in the 
watchman's tower, and that chapel was the place where Professor 
Johnson used to tell the giraffe story- — that must have been in the 
days of Pythagoras, for it seemed to have been only a memory when 
we first came. We also learned that dancing on the campus with 
gentlemen was a thing tolerated only at the College of Missions. 

Pretty soon, finding that no one else could curb our superfluous 
energies, we were allowed to delegate that privilege to some of our 
own species ; so on September twenty-ninth we held our freshman 
election and chose Ralph Stephenson to be our boss, and as his 
assistants, Irene Pritchard for vice-president, Mildred Hill for sec- 



138 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

retar}', and Richard Moore for treasurer. Since our meetings were 
so severely disturbed by some who wished to learn the secrets of 
our magic power, we chose Johnny Ferree to act as sergeant-at- 
arms. Among other things that stand out in my memory in the early 
part of that freshman year were Freshman English and Miss Keene 
with her much bedecorated Forest-of-Arden hats and super-vogue 
waists ; and Richard Moore as the front seat occupant, with his 
dangerous eyes and sense of humor and peculiar artistic ability, and 
several premature exits from the classroom and subsequent fears 
and aimless wanderings about Butler's classic halls. In that con- 
nection, I also recall piles and piles of notebooks, filled with peculiar 
little curlicues, called phonetics. Phonetics are mighty fine things — 
they make efficiency experts, help us in dish-washing, scrubbing, 
patching punctured tires, and incidentally in speaking more cor- 
rectly. Among other important happenings that freshman year were 
various and varied chapels devoted to Student Control Methods of 
Examinations, and one particular time when some one surprised 
us by bringing out some splendid musicians from the Indianapolis 
Conservatory of Music instead of the usual pros and cons of Honor 
Methods; and we surprised them by adding to their harmony the 
charms of seven little alarm clocks timed at five-minute intervals 
and carefully concealed behind the pictures. Those little clocks 
could have shown John Philip Sousa a thing or two about real har- 
mony ! For years we tried to find out the ingenuous author of that 
clever method of intervention and finally learned that it was Ruth 
Cannaday, Virginia Tillie Kingsbury, and Anna Mary Collins. 
Snakes and various nauseating odors also varied the chapel services 
that year. 

But the thing that shines forth with the brightest light in my 
Happy Memories' Book was the events of a certain October fifteenth, 
when we received a special gilt-edged invitation from President 
Howe to appear en masse in chapel. Of course we were a popular 
bunch and had graced many social functions with consequent finger- 
ings near the Bonehead path, heavy eyes, and delayed arrivals in 
the early morn, so in order to preserve our youthful freshness, and 
mental as well as physical health, President Howe published an 
edict at this eventful party. This edict was second in literary and 



Commencement Week 139 

political importance only to the edict of Milan and read to the eflfect 
— no more parties — no more dances — no more after 9:30 hours — no 
more nothing except communication with books ; penalty for viola- 
tion of said rule was forfeiture of the privilege of attending classes 
for a matter of a week or two. Parties were defined as anything 
more than two and a chaperon and a chaperon was required for 
them. Henry Jameson, Fritz Wagoner, and Lela Kennedy used 
up all the chaperons in Irvington and had to start all over again. 
Though we swore in our Double D Society to stand by each other, 
by some kind of a Potsdam-like system of spies our culprits were 
apprehended, so Niel Kershaw, Esther Murphy, and others of us 
had some nice little vacations. 

In spite of our limitations, it was a marvelous year. We won 
everything from mumblety-peg to secondary championships in foot- 
ball, and had victorious bonfires every week and a splendid football 
banquet where Ralph Agnew won immortal fame by that little 
speech, "Nobody knows what I'm going to say but God and me, and 
now nobody knows but God." 

We had vacation on Washington's, Lincoln's, and Wilson's birth- 
days that year. 

Sophomore year — as Professor Hall says, the year of wise-fools — 
we were more subdued ; we had learned some things to do and some 
things not to do ; and had now passed from the rookie to first class 
private stage. As insignia befitting our newly acquired rank and 
corresponding dignity, we donned the regulation orange and purple 
hats which made their appearance en masse at every football, wed- 
ding, and other public function that occurred. 

We chose as our leaders Clifford Kirby for president, Helen Duke 
for vice-president. Bertha Coughlen for secretary, and Carl 
Amelung for treasurer. Our class business consisted in various 
suggestions for a class party, but we couldn't decide whether it 
should be a fishing party or a Japanese lawn party, so we dispensed 
with it entirely. It was during our sophomore year that the Eco- 
nomics class won immortal fame through the peculiar disappearance 
and subsequent cremation of a bunch of examination papers, and 
subsequent public confessions of the culprits on final examination 
day. This year was made famous by the entrance of Whitney 



140 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Spiegel, Agnes Foreman, and the Bernhardt-like Genevieve Downs, 

without whom our dramatic ability, as will be shortly divulged to 
you, would have been sadly lacking. This year was also made 
famous by Ruth Cannaday with her seven ministerial suitors camp- 
ing on her footsteps ; and the departure of Bill Young, Bill Wiedrich, 
Bill Peacock, and Tuck Brown for the cacti of Mexico. During 
this year the 10 to 11 :30 club made its appearance and held its meet- 
ings in all of the available machines beneath Professor Coleman's 
room ; and sent code messages to one another by means of machine 
horns or otherwise amused themselves by disturbing Professor Put- 
nam's money-making schemes by playing "duck on davy" and "three 
deep" near his sanctum sanctorum. Had holidays on Washington's 
and Lincoln's birthdays that year. 

Junior year was our greatest year ; all of our officers were ushered 
in unanimously and we attained the rank of lower noncoms. Our 
officers were Fred Wagoner, president; Mildred Hill, vice-presi- 
dent ; Oscar Hagemier, treasurer ; Fern Wright, secretary ; Wallace 
Wadsworth, editor-in-chief of the Drift. Our Drift was the finest 
that has ever been published, from Helen Matthews's frog ode to 
Johnnie's chapel speech, and, more than that, we were the first class 
to attempt one in four years — and our junior prom, with its moon- 
light dance, cabaret, and Roepke's floral decorations (which haven't 
been paid for yet), was the best in Butler's history. But let me tell 
you a little secret — Whitey Hagemier has been grieving ever since 
about the smallness of funds collected and as juniors we had sev- 
eral secret meetings and passings-of-the-hat over it. The jazz ball 
takes its place alongside of the prom as a junior product and a most 
memorable social affair. One morning last year we came to school 
and found quite a generous supply of plastering upon the floor in 
the upper halls ; there was much speculation as to what caused it 
and much gossip about an animal's having been transported to the 
upper regions along with all of the chairs from some of the class- 
rooms. We were never able to find any very definite information 
concerning the escapade, but we heard that Helen Findley, Clarence 
Blackford, and Charity Hendren were responsible for it. Neither 
were we ever able to learn who was so self-forgetful as to place a 
cigarette in the mouth of the distinguished gentleman to my rear. 



(^ 






Commencement Week ''' /A>/ 141 

Dramatics flourished last year, with "The Brixton Bui'glary" and 
the dainty little maidens of "Safe in Siberia." The addition of Pro- 
fessor Harrison, with his Shelley-like enthusiasm and fondness for 
waltzing, to the faculty and a crop of engagements marked our junior 
year. Had a vacation on Washington's birthday. 

Last year we began to find ourselves ; out of our various activities 
we learned that we could be good for something. Probably 
acquaintance with Professor Jordan, ethics, Aristotle, and those 
wicked old Hedonists helped us to learn that. And so we came on 
to our senior year — in many ways the best and in many ways the 
hardest year for us. In the first place we found our numbers re- 
duced from fifty-four last year to thirty-four this year. Some of 
our finest boys have gone on a little farther and found themselves, 
and have gone to fight for those things which Butler helped 
them to know to hold dear. Of our number nine are with 
the American army in France — Duke Witherspoon, Fred Daniels, 
Tuck Brown, Whitney Spiegel, Halford Johnson, Carl Amelung, 
Squidge Larkin, Fritz Wagoner, and Ralph Stephenson; and 
four are here in training camps — Merrill Woods, Henry Jame- 
son, Harry Perkins, and Dean Fuller. Things have happened so 
thick and fast that I found it necessary to consult Virginia Kings- 
bury's diary to stick to facts at all. Others of our number have 
heard another call for service and some have left us while others 
have stuck by the ship. They are Henrietta Minton, Helen Gill- 
man, Waide Gillman, Agnes Binkley, Anna Carlstedt and Bertha 
Shellhorn. Many others have appeared in sparklers and pins (they 
say that Florence Wood and Helen Reed couldn't sleep at all the 
night after theirs arrived) and some are lurking in the shadows of 
secrecy. We could divulge much but we have one more day to 
live. We started out to have a party for each newly engaged one; 
but when one tried it on us twice and others followed fast, we gave 
up in despair. 

Early in September we chose our senior leaders — Corncob Rich- 
ard Moore for president, Mae Hamilton for vice-president. Opal 
Burkhardt for secretary, and Ralph Agnew for treasurer. Since 
then we have had a meeting every week, and recently after every 
chapel service. Our business has been weighty, ranging all the way 



142 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

from a dance with five unmarried men and twenty-six unmarried 
girls, to a wiener and onion roast at the Foreman's cottage, and 
always the sepulchral question of Roepke's floral bill. We have 
been so democratized and Butlerized and loyalized this year that 
we have almost merged into the brickbats of this building, of which 
Professor Jordan loves so well to speak. We have, in between 
philosophy papers, weighty debates as to the educational value of 
attending college on days twenty-two degrees below zero, Tippe- 
canoe battle papers, Y. W. C. A. stunts, selling tickets for "One 
Drop More," knitting in chapel and writing to soldiers, attending 
training camp and soldier dances just for patriotic purposes, found 
time to have three parties all of our very own. All of them were 
characterized by the nonattendance of the male members of the 
class except, perhaps, that faculty dinner, for which our five men 
deserve a croix de guerre. Nothing has disturbed our general peace 
except the fact that Butler was able to get coal during that little 
cold spell, and the appearance of some words on the ill-fated tower 
which miraculously disappeared before some of us less suspicious 
beings had an opportunity to view them. Another important senior 
fact was the lack of a holiday on Wilson's or Washington's or Lin- 
coln's birthday, which was probably made up for by a delightful 
Cleanup Day and Liberty Loan parade. 

We have donned the uniform of black and white — mostly black. 
Did you knov/ that we had it all fixed up to wear white slippers but 
Miss Graydon says that it is not becoming to the academic dress 
to wear them, so to-morrow we appear in borrowed black ones. We 
had already received the highest noncom rank when we donned our 
caps and gowns ; but we've learned to march to the tune of "Butler 
Will Shine" and how to salute our superiors, so to-morrow we get 
another commission and we leave Butler a somewhat less learned, 
and less hilarious group than when we came. After to-morrow we 
will be only a tradition and some other class will tell of our pranks. 
Nothing will be left of us except a stack of biweekly papers, along 
with the monkeys and Zulu implements of war in Professor Lum- 
ley's little anteroom; or perhaps a beautiful picture which will soon 
grace these walls — a stately picture. Beneath those black caps (with 
tassels on the left) you will see us, the class of 1918. To-morrow 



Commencement Week 143 

we take our last street-car ride to Butler — eight miles a trip, two 
times a day, makes eighty miles a week ; in forty weeks that means 
3,200 miles; in four years makes 12,800 miles. Now, how much 
would that make at eight cents a day? 

We leave Butler College — its memories, traditions, and seven- 
o'clock sociology exams — to you to make of them what you will. 
We know that the old bell will probably drop through the ceiling 
again when we leave ; but we've heard the call of service, and we 
hope to answer it, and so we leave the street-car rides and Gillum's 
to you other noncoms who follow in our fotsteps. 

ALUMNI SUPPER 

At five 'clock the alumni began to gather on the green east of the 
main building. One hundred ninety-seven who had engaged plates 
in accordance with the wishes of the committee having the supper 
in charge, and a number who had not engaged plates, were present. 
A new plan was adopted this year of charging 50 cents a plate and 
allowing a committee the enormous labor of preparing the meal. 
And let it here be said that the delicious supper was prepared under 
the able chairmanship of Mrs. Marjorie Hall Montgomery, '15, and 
her assistants. The supper was served cafeteria style. The classes 
were well represented, from 1856 to 1918. 

As the shadows began to fall, the company adjourned to the 
chapel, where the program was given, with John W. Atherton, '00, 
first vice-president of the association, presiding. The class of 1918, 
grouped about the piano, led the singing of college songs. Mr. 
Atherton called upon the secretary to read a letter received from 
E. W. Cans, '87, president of the association, who is connected with 
the War Trade Board at Washington : 

It is with great regret that I must deny myself the pleasure of 
accepting your invitation, transmitted through your Secretary, to 
join you this year in your annual "feast of raisin (bread) and filet 
of sole." Two major (and many minor) events prevent: (1) A 
young lady I am much interested in, has invited me to enjoy on the 
same day, an elaborate bill (and bills) in connection with the close 
of her years of study at Vassar, the college of her mother's choice 



144 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

thirty years ago, and which holds vital interest for us both ; and (2) 
we have not yet at Washington licked Kaiser Bill and cannot long 
refrain from making it as hot for him as possible. 

Your invitation takes me back in a history-making year to the 
joy of our last get-together ; to the indescribable pleasure of letting 
the ladies who did the work, do it in the way they chose, dignified 
with the high sounding name of "delicate diplomacy" ; of the splen- 
did results produced by the committee of the whole ; the supper 
seldom equaled, never surpassed ; the appetites ditto ; the splendid 
spirit of the meeting in the chapel ; the large number of classes rep- 
resented ; Mrs. Atkinson's eulogy of "Youth" that dyed our gray 
hairs black again and made us feel like "six-year-olds ;" the many 
representative children of former graduates ; even the stolid old 
chapel with its pedagogic air all its own, resounding to the merry 
laughter, bring back to me sweet memories, as the odor of a rose, 
the image of its donor. But this year these legacies of the friend- 
ships of college days must be my inheritance and not the chance to 
enjoy them again. 

While location here deprives me of these pleasures, it gives a 
wide opportunity for duty of a sterner sort. The war, with its 
main objective well defined, and to accomplish which every energy 
of the nation is bending, has withal resulted in a general awakening 
of the nation on innumerable collateral subjects. The giant is find- 
ing his real strength — his real domestic duties, long left undone. 
The citizen long unthinkingly accepting the advantages of this bene- 
ficial republic, is now awakening to the fact that he has obligations 
to perform. 

The interesting and gratifying feature is that the tremendous 
tasks now forced by necessity on the government in myriad fields, 
in large part, are producing results of lasting benefit. In controlling 
the commerce of the country, fundamental trade information is 
obtained that will give us the key to a future prosperity of untold 
magnitude and benefit. The requirements of the government for 
trained men and women have opened fields of activity of unmeas- 
urable extent. It is no longer "What shall we do?" but, "Where 
shall we get the people who can do?" 

And the way our citizens are responding to this call would make 



Commencement Week 145 

any one's patriotic zeal rise to fever heat. A constant stream of 
patriots apply for the privilege of "doing anything they can" — and, 
given the opportunity, they do. Millionaires and day laborers work 
side by side in many places. Men who count their annual income 
in seven figures, work sixteen hours a day at routine work and are 
a brilliant example to the young plodder. There can be only one 
outcome to the activities of a nation thus awakened ! 

And the college graduate — this is his day! (Men are referred to 
here as also embracing the women.) Kaiser Bill is the Moses who 
has led the college graduate into his promised land ! 

The college man and woman are wanted by the military of all 
branches, by government departments of all kinds, by Red Cross 
activities, by manufacturers of newly discovered industries — and 
our dear lady friends not so favored are in such demand that the 
individual is lost in the demand for hundreds, thousands, tens of 
thousands, in many departments, and the demand seems still as 
great as ever. 

It is a world disaster that, like all others, gives endless openings 
to the men it develops. It is a lifetime opportunity I am grateful to 
have, and which in some measure compensates for the tension of 
duties and separation from many good friends. To the college 
people this is their opportunity and like loyal alumni you are all 
rising to the occasion. Before another anniversary let us hope it 
will be lasting peace, so we can all get together again. 

A committee consisting of Miss Graydon, '78 ; T. C. Howe, '89, 
and H. U. Brown, '80, was appointed to reply to the letter. 

The nominating committee, John R. Carr, '00, chairman, reported 
the following ticket for next year : 

President- — Mrs. Jessie Christian Brown, '97. 

First Vice-President — William G. Irwin, '89. 

Second Vice-President — Lieutenant Justus W. Paul, '15. 

Treasurer — Carl Van Winkle, '15. 

The report was accepted, and the officers declared duly elected. 
The report of the acting treasurer was read by Stanley Sellick, '16: 



146 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

TREASURER'S REPORT 

June 13, 1917, to June 12, 1918 
Receipts — 

Balance on hand $225.31 

From Board of Education through error 26.24 

Quarterly dues 424.00 

Contributions 267.50 

Disbursements — 

Alumnal Quarterly $615.01 

Printing and stationery 43.30 

Postage 21 .80 

Stenographic work 96.58 

Drama class 50.00 

To Board of Education to correct error 26.24 

Additional cost alumni dinner June, 1917 3.21 



$943.05 



856.14 



Balance $86.91 

Unpaid Bills — 

Stenographic Work $4.50 

Postage owing Butler College 20.00 

Printing 1 1.44 

35.94 



Total balance $50.97 

The supper committee for next year was appointed by the chair 
Mrs. Edith Keay Fowler, '99, chairman ; Mrs. Walter Kessler, '95 
Mrs. Grace Julian Clarke, '84; Mrs. Anne Hughes Wilkinson, '07 
Mrs. Florence Hosbrook Wallace, '08. 

The roll was called by classes with the following representation: 
1869, 1 ; 1878, 1 ; 1879, 1 ; 1880, 1 ; 1884, 1 ; 1886, 2; 1887, 2; 1889, 
1; 1890, 3; 1892, 2; 1893, 2; 1894, 3; 1895, 1; 1896, 1; 1897, 2; 
1899, 1 ; 1900, 2; 1906, 2; 1907, 1 ; 1908, 1 ; 1909, 2; 1910, 1 ; 1911, 
2; 1912, 1; 1913, 2; 1914, 6; 1915, 7; 1916, 9; 1917, 9; 1918, 17. 

The necrology for 1917-'18 was read: 



Commencement Week 147 

Charles Eugene Underwood, '03, July 3, Indianapolis. 

Dr. John A. Campbell, '60, July 20, Steamboat Springs, Colorado. 

Dr. Lucien D. Campbell, ex-'80, August 27, Steamboat Springs, 
Colorado. 

Walter Raleigh Couch, '72, November 22, Golden, Colorado. 

Dora Grace Blount, '87, January 20, Indianapolis. 

Osmund H. Tibbott, early 80's, January 20, Washington, D. C. 

Henry Clarence Toon, ex-' 15, January 21, Great Lakes Naval Train- 
ing Station. 

Mrs. Katherine Griffin Johnson, '03, wife of Emsley W. Johnson, 
'93, January 29, Indianapolis. 

Lieutenant John Charles Good, '17, March 30, Camp Dodge, Iowa. 

Dr. John P. Avery, '60, April 9, Indianapolis. 

William H. Brevoort, '62, April 23, Vincennes, Indiana. 

The class of 1918 was voted into membership of the association. 
Ten-minute talks, which in part are given, followed, beginning with 
Miss Mae Hamilton, '18: 

Miss Hamilton: It is with regret as well as with joy that we, 
the class of 1918, become members of this organization. Regret — 
yes, we are having a queer little twist at our heartstrings as we come 
to the realization that our college days, with all that they have 
meant to us and the hundred-fold more that they are going to mean 
to us, are over. There is a pang at the thought that the things that 
have been so much our very own are soon to become the possessions 
of some one else. Now that we are about to separate, the friend- 
ships, which we have too often taken for granted, have become very 
dear to us and we are going to miss them sorely. Even now, we 
know that there will be times when just a sight of these old build- 
ings and just a glimpse of this campus would bring to us more 
heart's ease than anything we could think of. But the thing that 
we feel most strongly as we are about to leave college, is a great 
wave of love and appreciation for the professors of dear old Butler, 
as we just begin to realize what they have meant to us. Their 
patience, their unfailing interest, and unfaltering faith have been 
the impetus to continued effort, to a determination to reach the 
goal. It is they who have awakened in us our highest ideals and 



148 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

standards, who have given us a vision of truth, who have fired our 
imaginations so that at times we have caught ghmpses of what the 
world might be if it were ruled by love and justice. It was then 
that an ideal was newly born, to many of us, an ideal of unselfish 
living, an ideal of service for others. We could not help but feel 
a sadness at the thought of leaving the atmosphere which they have 
created for us. 

"We feel we owe a debt to them 
Which never can be paid." 

And yet — I say we are eager to be leaving. There has never been 
a class leave Butler that has had so much await them. Surely the 
world has never demanded, and rightly so, so much of the college- 
trained man and woman. A part of the men of our class are already 
"over there" bearing the brunt of it all. We must measure up to 
their standard of service. We, too, must find our places, bear our 
share of the burden. We, too, have heard a call, and with Luigi 
answer, " 'Tis God's voice calls, how could I stay?" 

So, to you who have done so much to keep the spirit of Butler 
the warm, living, vital thing she is to-day; to those who have made 
this, our alma mater, possible ; to our professor friends ; to dear, 
old Butler College herself — we pledge our loyalty, our very best 
selves. We promise to you, this day, to use to the best of our abil- 
ity, "the whole store of strengths" which you have all laid in store 
for us, in service for our college and our fellow beings. It is the 
desire of the class of 1918 to add in some way to the spirit of Butler, 
which we have found strong, fine, beautiful. 

Claris Adams, ex-'lO: I am reminded by this introduction of 
a story that I heard some time ago, of a little colored boy who had 
been given a verse of scripture to learn. The verse was the words 
of the Master when He said, "It is I, be not afraid." The boy 
learned this verse until he had it letter perfect, but when he got up 
to say it, in the presence of a room full of people, he said, "It's just 
me, don't get scared." And so it is "just me," and I hope you won't 
get "scared." 

The dear lady who used to attempt to teach me public speaking 
told me never to begin with an apolog}', but when Mr. Atherton 



Commencement Week 149 

told me that he had carefully prepared the program for the eve- 
ning, I felt that an apology was due. The reason I am on the pro- 
gram is that there are two ladies to whom I can never say no, and 
one of them is Miss Graydon, and she spoke to the other one before 
she spoke to me. 

I was reminded of a story as I listened to the roll call by classes, 
one that Chauncy Butler told himself, of a conversation he held 
with a boy of sixteen. "How old are you, my boy?" he asked. "Six- 
teen," was the answer. "That was just my age when I went as a 
drummer boy in the war." "What war was that," he asked, "the 
Revolution ?" 

When the classes of this association meet, it seems to be custo- 
mary to tell of wonders done by each class. That makes me think 
of the rivalry between Los Angeles and Seattle, two great rival 
cities on the Pacific coast. Los Angeles has no harbor. At a con- 
vention in Los Angeles, at which a man from Seattle was present, 
one man after another told of the glories of Los Angeles, ending 
with, "If we only had a harbor, we would become the greatest city 
in the United States." Finally, the man from Seattle, who was very 
much disgusted, rose and said : "I will tell you a secret by which 
you can have a harbor and become the greatest city in the United 
States. Just get a long pipe and extend it from Los Angeles to the 
coast, and if you suck as hard as you blow, you will have as great 
a harbor as we have in Seattle." 

And so I feel in regard to the Alumni Association, that if we all 
put our shoulders to the wheel, we would have a much more liberal 
representation here at the alumni meeting, and we should back up 
the men and women who are giving so much of their lives in the 
service of their country. I do want simply to add my tribute of 
affection to the expression of gratitude to this institution which has 
meant so much to every man and woman who has been a student 
here within its walls. This is the home of our youth. This is the 
home of our young manhood and our young womanhod, where we 
spent some of the happiest and most pleasant and profitable days 
of our lives. It is here that we were molded into useful men and 
women and formed ideals that will sustain us, let us hope, in all 
the storms of our life. Butler College means more to us than simply 



150 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

an institution of education. It is what we gave here, as well as 
what we learned, that will be the most treasured to this institution. 
I can't remember for the life of me what I studied under Miss 
Graydon, but I cannot forget what I learned from her. I will 
never forget that Miss Graydon and the other professors who gave 
us more than instruction, who gave us association with their lives 
that will sustain us, gave us their ideals. It is character and not 
culture, or perhaps a combination of both that counts. That is why 
a small school overshadows a great institution. Not long ago there 
was a great deal of criticism against college men, that they were 
interested in frivolities instead of learning the best things of life, 
and a great number of people said that colleges were not doing the 
things for which they stand. That flag is the answer to that. These 
boys in the service are now vindicating their institutions. You find 
everywhere that the college athletes are among the leaders. These 
youths have been transferred into men. With the spirit of "Do or 
die" they will go against the German line and will break it with 
the same spirit that they used to break the opposing football lines. 
And that is the way I expect "Tow" Bonham to handle the Kaiser. 
In this day, men will have to show themselves men, as those on the 
battlefield have shown themselves to be. Those golden stars on 
the flag will not be long alone, for there will soon be many more. 
We will have the pride of knowing that they have striven for a 
great and noble cause. And we, by doing our part here at home, 
must keep our covenant with those heroes of Butler College. 

Miss Corinne Welling, '12 : For sixty-three years our Reverend 
Mother has been sending her beloved seniors into the world. We 
are representative of that great group gathered together here year 
after year, glad again to creep back into the fold — glad to wander 
beneath the oaks and beeches, glad to walk the halls, and glad to sit 
in the old chapel. These are all the same. Yet aside from these, 
we have come back to a somewhat different college in each of our 
minds. We are living in memory: we come back to the college as 
we knew it as a student. It will probably always remain to each 
of us what it was during our four years' sojourn. 

There are some of us, however — the present seniors, especially, 



Commencement Week ISl 

and we who linger here as their instructors, who know a new col- 
lege. It has its roots firm in the past ; it is being watered by the 
storm clouds of a world's struggle, and unfolded by the sunshine 
of liberty — and it is flowering. 

Can't you remember when the contributors to the Collegian used 
to keep college opinion properly tempered by such remarks as these : 
"Don't let your studies interfere with your college life." 
"It is not what you know, but what the professor thinks you 
know." 

"Just carry books, look wise. 
Use bluff, and you'll hypnotize 
Prexie, till he will advise 
A diploma for you guys." 

Of course there are still some students whose ambition never ex- 
ceeds the "get-by" stage. But their day is past. That spirit may 
linger in the crevices, but it is afraid of the 1918 college attitude. 

The keynote now is preparation. And the students are begin- 
ning to believe (what we have been telling them for years) that 
they are to be the future leaders ; and they are getting ready to take 
their places. They are working to a purpose, a pure, noble pur- 
pose — service to humanity. Everything else is falling to the back- 
ground, significantly, without pressure from the faculty. This 
seriousness is manifest in the students' care in their choice of 
courses — the cinch course is losing its popularity, and in its place 
stands the course that offers the greatest preparation to a student 
for his life-work. It is manifest in the attentive attitude in the 
classroom, in the careful preparation of daily lessons. Yet withal 
we are delighted to see that Jack is not a dull boy. He still knows 
how to play, and he enjoys his play more because he needs it more. 

In hand with this seriousness is the sister virtue of college spirit. 
Butler is still as close to Indianapolis, and Indianapolis is probably 
as attractive as ever. But she is losing her hold on Butler students. 
College comes first. There is a fine spirit in her organizations — a 
unified purpose to back to the full all the common interests of the 
college. There is a very genuine friendship of every student for 
every other student. The student body is steadily pushing into the 
foreground the college Christian associations — the common meet- 



153 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

ing ground of student life. And these organizations are determining 
the social ideals and spiritual perspectives. I challenge the charge 
that Butler lacks college spirit as a fallacy. 

More remarkable than the present serious attitude of the students, 
than the dynamic college spirit, is the patriotic fervor. The little 
poem that Mary K. O'Haver, a junior, wrote, is not idle verse: 

"As I knit, while I sit, 
On a sweater for a kit. 
Or a sock, or a mit, — 
As I knit, while I sit, 
I am hoping it will fit, 
That the heel won't rub and hit 
On a blister and unfit — 
As I knit, while I sit. 

"As I knit, while I sit, 
I'm not blessed with skill or wit ; 
I only do my bit 
As I knit, while I sit ; 
But I know I will not quit 
Till I've made the whole outfit, 
Sweater, scarf, sock, and mit — 
As I knit, while I sit." 

The knitting needles ply through the chapel services; the Col- 
legians, and letters, and remembrances pass in steady travel to the 
army camps, the naval stations, and the Western Front. Eighteen 
hundred seventy dollars was raised by the students and faculty for 
the Y. M. C. A. and Y. W, C. A. war work. Every activity of the 
college has contributed to the support of some phase of the war. 
Every Tuesday for eight weeks eighty per cent, of the students 
grouped themselves into classes to study our ideals of democracy 
and the relation of our Christian principles to them. These we 
have done — but these are the least part. 

There hangs the symbol of our greatest gift — the record of our 
lads who are going up to the supreme sacrifice. Some of these are 
alumni, but many of them are from the student body of the last two 



Commencement Week 153 

years. How proud we are of that flag! It is the donation of the 
Sandwich Club, and zealously have they guarded it through the 
year. It hangs in our chapel ; it led our division in the Liberty Loan 
parade; it hung above the stage at the presentation of "One Drop 
More"; it stretched over the porch of the College Residence at the 
exercises on Memorial Day ; and it shall grace our commencement ; 
an emblem of the patriotism that is at the heart of our college life. 
Fellow alumni, the college was good in our day — the college 
that each of us pictures in memory. But "the old order changeth," 
and a new and greater college is in the making. She calls on you — 
not as a gallery of pictures, but as a living spirit — to help her, like 
Merlin, to "follow the gleam." 

A musical number was given at this point by Miss Beth Wilson, 
'15, 'cello; Miss India Wilson, '19, violin, and Miss Mary Ann 
Zoercher, '17, piano. 

Mrs. Jessie Christian Brown, '97: I am very much over- 
whelmed at the announcement of Mr. Carr. This is the first time 
I have ever been president of anything. Womicn, however, have 
the right to be president of anything except the United States. It 
was too bad that we had to tell those old bald-headed men how old 
we were when we regisered and then not get to vote. 

There is an advantage of being a member of a coeducational in- 
stitution. A teacher once asked her pupils what animal always fol- 
lowed man. One bright little boy answered "Woman." 

I haven't any subject for my talk this evening. I was not given 
any subject to talk about, but Miss Gray don limited my talk to ten 
minutes, and you who have heard me know that I am just getting 
started in ten minutes. Perhaps it is just as well that I do not name 
my subject, for one time when I announced my subject, the head- 
lines in the paper came out the next morning vv^ith, "Women's Bat- 
tles on Meats and the Garlic in the Bible." 

I could reminisce, but I do not really have very interesting remin- 
iscences to relate. And yet at the time I entered Butler College the 
pavements began to make their appearance. I came out here a per- 
fect stranger. My mother came with me. She felt that she had 
one anchor and that was Professor Benton. I remember the first 



154 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

day I went into Professor Brown's Greek classroom. I wondered 
who that thing was behind the desk. I was so frightened I could 
not remember the name of the textbook I had used in high school. 
But the next day I came back, I decided to marry him. Of course, 
I did not tell him about it right away, but he found out later. 

I want to speak to you this evening from the standpoint of a 
parent. I have a child in Butler College. I am very happy that I 
have my boy here in Butler. Ever since he came into the world 
I have dreamed of his being here, and now that he is in Butler, it 
seems like a dream realized. Some one asked a caretaker in an 
estate in England how it was that the grass was so soft and velvety, 
and the answer was that they had cared for it and loved it for about 
two hundred years. And so the way in which to make Butler finer 
and better is to love it from generation to generation. This may 
seem like a wild dream and perhaps it is. 

One time little Hilton Brown came over to my house for luncheon 
and the boys all drew pictures and we guessed what they were. 
No one could guess what Hilton's picture was about, and finally he 
told us it was a "dog fight." When I asked where the dogs were he 
replied, "Oh, you can't see the dogs, this is just the fight." And so 
it is with the Americans now. This is just the picture of the fight. 
You can't see the boys. The pictures of the boys are written in our 
hearts. But at the same time one should not be gloomy. We are 
happy that the boys are doing their part. 

I know of no school anywhere where our boys and girls can be 
better taken care of as to their education and character than at But- 
ler College. Young people can get as fine, true, sincere education 
here at Butler as any institution in the country. The things worth 
while I may have in my mental and spiritual character I received 
at Butler College. And I cannot be grateful enough that Butler 
College started me on the right road. I am therefore glad to have 
my child here. And there is something else and that is the deep and 
sweet friendships that are formed in a college like Butler. The 
friendships are so eternally satisfying, so golden, that are formed 
in a small college. I want my boy to have the deep, sweet, sincere 
friendships that are formed in a college like Butler, as well as to 
get the education. 



Commencement Week 155 

This is a literal transcription of v/hat one boy over there wrote 
back to his girl. "Darlingest : We are not in the same place to-day 
that we were yesterday, and if we move to-night, we will not be 
in the same place to-morrow that we are to-day. Yours, Darling." 
The Butler boys will certainly have something more interesting than 
that to write back to those at home, but anyway, the boy had love 
in his heart. 

I think of that little verse of Walt Whitman, when he said, "I 
have only one song I like to sing, and that is love of comrades." 

Frank F. Hummel, '93 : After this introduction I am afraid 
to tell you what my superintendent told me when I went into busi- 
ness. I had been teaching in Kokomo, Indiana, and when I handed 
my resignation to the superintendent he said, 'Well, in a few years 
more you could work up to a principalship or a superintendency." 
"But business pays more," I replied. "Then go into the school book 
business, but I am thinking of the good you can do in the world." 
That sentence has rung in my mind for the last twenty years. If 
you stay in the school teaching work your opportunity to do good 
is very great. If you go into business your opportunity to do good 
is not very great. Now, I do not believe that and neither do you, 
but there is this fact, my friends, that the attitude of the public 
toward the business man is not quite what it ought to be. We do 
not think of our friends in business as being dishonest, but suspicion 
rests on those whom we do not know. The pendulum has begun 
to swing the other way. It seemed to be the tendency to forget that 
the source of all the necessities of life is in the great indispensable 
organizations. We think that if we could get into the personal 
letter files we would find there the records of corruptions. We 
think if we could get the information from the inside we would find 
rottenness back of their success. Usually an audience does not like to 
listen to a business man because facts are without flavor or without 
juice and that is what an audience wants. The trouble with most 
of us is that we do not think enough for ourselves. We like to hear 
the speaker who has splendid diction and all that is very pleasant 
to hear. We do not like to deal with facts. I think, my friends, 
that this is a pretty good time for us to change our mental attitude 



156 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

toward certain groups of men. Those of you who are not in busi- 
ness perhaps do not appreciate the uneasy days that rest on the busi- 
ness men. We do not know what is ahead of us. Material is in- 
creasing in cost so rapidly that we can hardly keep track of it. And 
what is true of school book business is true of any business. This 
is a time when every man, especially every business man, should be 
patriotic. And when I say patriotic, there are some classes I do 
not want anything to do with. The profiteer, especially the man who 
will flatten the purses of the women and children. Another class 
of men, and that is a certain kind of politician who will jeopardize 
his country — the lives of our soldiers as well as those of the women 
and children. We should be patriots. By patriots I mean men who 
do their duty as they see it, it makes no difference if their next door 
neighbor does not know what they are doing. 

This one point I want to make. In these trying times when you 
are doing everything you can, there is one thing you can do for 
business and that is to get your mental attitude right. Do not let 
any man tell you that business men are dishonest. It is what a man 
does with his money that puts it to the test. Wickedness comes from 
the way money is spent. If I could accumulate enough money to 
leave $10,000,000 to Butler College, you would not care how I got 
the money; you would say, "He spent it right." I do not believe 
that when the war is won and peace is made, that victory will be 
complete unless it makes us reconstruct our public opinions. Regu- 
late your own mind. 

Mr. H. U. Brown, '80, read the following Alumni Honor Roll: 

'86, Thomas U. Raymond. '10, Alonzo Hartley. 

'94, John W. Barnett. '11, Harold Tharp. 

'97, Robert Alexander Bull. '12, Wood linger. 

'97, Dr. Samuel McGaughey. '13, George Cullen Thomas. 

'98, Errett M. Graham. '14, Elvin Daniels. 

'02, Dr. William Shimer. '14, Xerxes Silver. 

'08, Mallie J. Murphy. '14, Paul Ward. 

'08, Paul Wiley Weer. '15, Bruce Robison. 

'09, Roger W. Wallace. '15, Elton R. Clarke. 

'10, D. Sommer Robinson. '15, B. Wallace Lewis. 

'10, Carl Barnett. '15, Justus W. Paul. 



Commencement Week 157 

'15, Edward Ploenges, '17, Leroy Hanby. 

'15, William W. Wiedrich. '17, Andrew Hopping. 

'16, J. T. C. McCallum. '17, Myron M. Hughel. 

'16, Francis Payne. '17, Earl McRoberts. 

'17, Austin Clifford. '17, Avery Morrow. 

Mr. Brown expressed earnestly the need of gathering and safely 
keeping all information possible concerning the alumni and former 
students in service — the facts of their enlistment, their photographs, 
and letters and journals, and anything relative to their great 
activities. 

Professor Putnam, of the faculty, spoke, emphasizing the neces- 
sity of this move and appealing to the alumni to assist by sending 
in any information concerning any enlisted man who ever attended 
Butler. 

Miss Graydon was appointed to compile a history of the Butler 
soldiers. 

With the singing of "America" the gathering adjourned, though 
many reluctantly left the old chapel. 

THE CLASS OF '68 

At four o'clock on the afternoon of June twelfth, at the home 
of Scot Butler in Downey avenue, in Irvington, Dr. Butler, Judge 
Ayres, and Mr. Walter Scott Smith met at Mr. and Mrs. Butler's 
invitation to observe the golden anniversary of the class of 1868. 
Just fifty years ago on the nineteenth of June, there graduated 
from the old North Western Christian University the following 
young men and women : Alexander C. Ayres, Scot Butler, Alcinda 
T. Blount, Barbara P. Blount, Samuel H. Dunlop, Joseph W. Mar- 
see, Mary M. Moore, Harry C. Ray, Anna W. Scovel, Walter 
S. Smith, Edwin Taylor, and Granville S. Wright. The Butler 
home place was beautifully decorated with flowers for the occasion, 
and Mr. and Mrs. Butler were assisted by their daughters, Mrs. 
Clifford, Miss Butler, Mrs. Recker and Mrs. Tefft. During the 
afternoon a number of old friends called to extend congratulations, 
among whom was Mrs. A. C. Atkinson, of the class of 1856, the 
college's first graduating class. Many entertaining stories were told 



158 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

of college days at old North Western, and Mr. Smith sang a group 
of songs of his own composition, one entitled, "Fifty Years Ago," 
being especially for the anniversary. Letters were read from the 
following members of the class, regretting their inability to be pres- 
ent : Mrs. Barbara Blount Cassel, of Rossville ; Mr. Edwin Taylor, 
of Evansville, and Mr. Harry Ray, of Shelbyville. Sitting in the 
pleasant twilight reviving old memories and listening to Mr. Butler 
reading the class letters, all, whether members of the class or not, 
felt the truth and beauty of the lines with which Harry Ray closed 
his letter : 

"Long, long be my heart with such memories filled. 
Like the vase in which roses have once been distilled; 
You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will, 
But the scent of the roses will hang round it still." 

THE CLASS OF 1893 

The class of 1893 observed its twenty-fifth anniversary by a re- 
union on the college grounds Sunday afternoon following the bac- 
calaureate sermon. A picnic lunch was served at six o'clock under 
one of the big oak trees on the campus and the survivors of '93 
enjoyed a repast of chicken salad, sandwiches, coffee, ice cream, and 
cake as they sat at ease on cushions and garden chairs under the big 
tree that has shaded so many alumni plays. Will Howe, now head 
professor of the English department at Indiana University, acted 
as master of ceremonies and called on each member of the class 
to give an account of himself. In the following short talk he re- 
called the old days and the members of the class : 

Twenty-five years ago, the year 1893, in the month of June, fif- 
teen raw recruits went forth to battle. To-day they come back to 
their Alma Mater with broken column — one has fallen by the way- 
side — bringing reinforcements who will take up the burden after 
they have laid it down. No class that has gone forth from the holy 
precincts of Butler ever left with higher purpose or cherished higher 
ideals. No class looked forward more eagerly to taking their part 
in the big game. What we have not done is all too plain to us who 
have been both participant and spectator. What we have done re- 
mains to be recorded by the judicial historian when the game is 



Commencement Week 159 

over and the books are closed. On that baccalaureate day we were 
fresh and ready, and as we sat in the front seats at chapel and lis- 
tened to the wise words of our beloved President Butler, ve 
searched ourselves to find whether we were made of the stuff that 
would stand the strain. We rejoiced over the wise leadership that 
had been our blessing; we little realized that the teaching of those 
years would become so bright as the days went by ; we peered vainly 
into the future to read what was in store for us. To-day, like Henry 
Esmond of old, we are returning, bringing our sheaves with us. 
With a quarter of a century behind us we may take inventory of 
what has been done and of what we have. 

This is no time for mere flattering speech. Now it is the truth 
only that we are asking, and as we look into each other's faces — 
some of us have not met since that commencement day — in the midst 
of war, in the hurry and worry of middle-life — what of the record? 

Jesse Brady, manly and honorable as a business man, who has 
been true to the ideals that Butler held before us. 

Stella Brady, cheery and worthy as an ideal wife and mother. 

Harry Brown, quiet and unassuming as a student, who has made 
a place for himself with an honorable name in his western com- 
munity. 

Eva Butler, no older after twenty-five years of honest service as 
teacher and guide. 

Ed Clifford, painstaking and industrious as a student, who has 
been true to the highest ideals of service to humanity. 

Julia Fish, ever the same genial and interesting Julia, one whom 
we like to think of after these many years. 

Frank Hummel, distinguished in the business of the distribution 
of books. 

Lona Iden, the same faithful and conscientious Lona that we 
knew of old, true and loyal unto the very end. 

Dan Layman — we are proud of our only doctor, of what he has 
done and of what he will yet do before the books are closed. 

John Minnick— some weeks ago I saw him in the High School of 
Commerce in New York City and I was proud to know him as I 
saw him. then, respected and admired as one of the chief men in 
that big school. 



160 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Frank Williams — who ever knew Frank that did not love him, 
always a true and honorable citizen and friend. 

Mary Thomas, now Mrs. O'Brien, faithful and worthy as she was 
in those Butler days. 

Belle Ward, doing her part in a quiet and honorable way. 

Luther Thompson, the only one who has passed on, of great 
promise, perhaps the one who we should have said in '93 would be 
among the last to leave us. The inspiration of his life — honest, 
upright, manly, true, and loyal — God never made a soul of finer steel. 

One shall be nameless, a mere teacher who has lived on the mem- 
ories of those happy days and tried not to dishonor the friends he 
left at Butler. 

What would we not give to have them all here to-day as they 
are now or as they were then ! 

This is the roll. Now citizens and parents, who have kept burn- 
ing the fires of faithfulness and loyalty and patriotism and have 
not been pushed aside from the path of duty and unselfish service. 
So far all have escaped the penitentiary, not one has become a mil- 
lionaire, one a banker, one a doctor, one a lawyer, one a minister, 
two business men, three teachers, three wives and mothers, and 
three yet stubbornly unyielding to innumerable suitors. 

Before I close I wish to record the names of those who meant 
so much to us in counsel and leadership. Allen R, Benton and 
William Thrasher, both of whom, although they have gone beyond, 
have left rich memories with us of the old days ; our beloved Presi- 
dent Scot Butler, the finest Roman of them all ; Demarchus Brown, 
Henry Lane Bruner, Harriet Noble, Thomas Iden, Hugh Miller, 
Thomas Carr Howe, since elevated to the presidency, who has kept 
Butler true to her old traditions. No class ever sat at the feet of 
worthier guides, honest in scholarship, true in ideals, and loyal in 
devotion. 

I have tried to turn back some of the pages and to lead you to 
look again on the old happy scenes and happy faces that we may 
meet the future without flinching, and 

"Greet the unseen with a cheer. 
Strive and thrive ! cry speed — fight on, fare ever 
There as here." 



Commencement Week HjI 

Letters from absent members of the class were then read, also a 
poem by Mamie Hay Minnick. 

Those present at the reunion were Lona Iden Lacy, with her 
husband, Frank Lacy, and their son and daughter, Albert and Mary, a 
sophomore and a freshman at Butler during the past year, who were 
both interested listeners to the story of the days when their parents 
were in college. Julia Fish, who lives at the Blacherne in Indian- 
apolis and spends all her time doing Red Cross and French relief 
work in a most strenuous fashion, helped to dispense the hospitality 
of the evening and was declared to be handsomer than ever. Frank 
Hummel brought back to suburban Irvington some of the polish and 
tone of his Chicago home. With him was Mrs. Hummel, who is 
an old friend of some of the class, and added much to the pleasure 
of the gathering. Eva Butler left the girls at the dormitory to their 
own sweet devices while she joined in the revival of twenty-five- 
year-old memories. Frank Williams motored over from Wabash, 
bringing his wife and daughter Dorothy, a young lady who has in- 
herited the famous Frank Williams eyes. Will Howe was on hand 
with all the old enthusiasm, thoughtful appreciation and wealth of 
ideas that made him a class favorite when he was a quarter of a 
century younger. Dan Layman, with Mrs. Layman, was a most 
welcome visitor and contributed his share to the happy memories 
of bygone days. Lee Burns, an ex-member of '93, and Mrs. Burns, 
added to the pleasure of the reunion by accepting the invitation to 
be present. The class as a body adjourned to pay Dr. Scot Butler 
a visit at the home place in Downey avenue. They were all wel- 
comed most heartily by Mr. and Mrs. Butler and Mr. and Mrs. 
Perry ClifiFord, and many jokes and good times were revived con- 
cerning the student gatherings at the Butler home place in the early 
'90's. 

The class presented President T. C. Howe with two Liberty 
Bonds for Butler College to indicate on their twenty-fifth anni- 
versary of graduation their appreciation, honor, and love for their 
Alma Mater. X. Y. Z. 



162 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

SENIOR CHAPEL 

The last chapel of the year is given over to the Senior Class. This 
year the speakers were Richard Moore, Mary Padou, and Benjamin 
E. Watson. Richard Moore said : 

I appreciate the opportunity that I have to-day, as the first senior 
president since the Civil War, to represent not only the men in my 
class who have fought their battles at home and played the waiting 
game with such pluck, but those who have already gone into the 
army camps and those who are now on the firing line in France. 
I realize, then, that I am speaking for those absent as well as present, 
and that while they from the height of their present deeds would 
probably be able to express with greater appreciation what Butler 
has meant and does mean to them than I can, nevertheless I feel 
that I am honored to be given a chance to represent them even in 
this small measure. 

It is generally known that what a man spends most of his time 
and energy upon proves to be what he cares most for. My first inter- 
est in Butler came through services rendered on the football field as 
water-boy. There was great rivalry among Hen Jameson, Tuck 
Brown, Happy Harland, and myself for the coveted position. It 
was the way the fellows on the Blue and White team fought that 
inspired us boys to fight hard and play the game fair. It was then 
that we formed the great corncob and Indian gangs. The fort used 
to be in Cross's old barn and the range took in all of Irvington, 
especially the college campus from the C, H. & D. tracks back of 
Irwin Field on the south and Emerson avenue on the west. Drill 
was held every Saturday morning and the attack took place in the 
afternoon. I can see old "Perkie" now, in his overalls, worn ragged 
at the bottom by running through weeds and thickets, with an old 
army belt around his waist full of corncobs, a shield in one hand, 
ammunition in the other, and depicted on his countenance every 
phase of grim determination and hallowed wrath at his fellow bel- 
ligerents as he bellowed out, "Come on, gang, I just saw Rot and 
bunch beatin' it around the corner of the alley." And I dimly re- 
call the sound of a voice through the battle din, "You scamps, keep 
out of my garden." It was one of the enraged nonbelligerents who 



Commencement Week 163 

believed that the longest way around was the sweetest way home, a 
view contrary to our reckoning that the shortest distance between 
two points is measured on the straight line joining them. 

Little did parents realize when they received the tired warriors 
in the evening and bound up the damaged fingers and applied salt 
water to the chiggers, that some day the corncobs would give place 
to the hand grenades. 

Of course, we did not anticipate anything as great as the war, but 
we knew that if we were ever called in defense of our country the 
inspiration we got on the sidelines would not be in vain. 

When we entered college, few of us knew the significance of what 
a college education means, just as we did not realize the benefits 
we derived from our corncob battles. Now that we are at the end 
of our four years' work, we begin to comprehend the greater value 
of college experiences. We have learned that there are things worth 
fighting for. It does not take much study to become a fighter — any 
one can develop into a good soldier after careful training in a 
camp, — but the men who are in need are those who have not only 
that quality but an understanding of the principles they are fighting 
for. There are enough men for the bulk of our army. What the 
government wants is leaders. I think it has been proved since we 
entered into this great war that the men who give the best account 
of themselves are either college graduates or those who have been 
connected with college. As in business life so in the army, the col- 
lege men are always given the preference. Every man who has the 
opportunity now of completing his college work owes it to himself 
and to his country to do it. It is really a harder fight for the college 
student than it is for the man on the firing line. The man on the 
firing line has really only one idea in mind, — that is of giving his 
life to the cause of his country, — while the young man in college 
is struggling with that same desire and yet must carry his school 
work. 

The impressions and associations made here during our four 
seemingly short years will always be a source of benefit and inspira- 
tion. It will be our aim in whatever we do to uphold the standard 
set for us by those who have preceded. 



164 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

THE DAY 

The Commencement exercises were held in the open shady spot 
facing the residence. At 10 o'clock the academic procession, con- 
sisting of the senior class, the faculty, the trustees, the guests of 
honor, and the speaker of the day, marched, as usual, from the Bona 
Thompson Memorial Library to the campus. By the courtesy of 
The Indianapolis News, the music was furnished by the Newsboys' 
Band. The invocation was pronounced by the Rev. Z. T. Sweeney. 
The address of the occasion is given elsewhere. 

The president of the college conferred the degree of Bachelor 
of Arts upon : 

Ralph Leslie Agnew Fannie Violet Hyde 

Eda Bachman Ruby May Keefauver 

Helen Annis Barry Lela Florence Kennedy 

Clarence Blackford Neil Kershaw 

Agnes Foreman Binkley Virginia Mary Kingsbury 

Opal Okuki Burkhardt Charles Day Lutz 

Katherine Burton Richard Harvey Moore 

Nellie Ruth Cannaday Sara Mildred Morgan 

Anna Junge Carlstedt Esther Murphy 

Anna Mary Collins Mary Harriet Padou 

Chester Davis Helen Margaret Reed 

Eugenia Smith Dent Bertha Coughlen Shellhorn 

Helen Findley Gillman Marguerite Ulen 

Julia Mae Hamilton Wallace Carter Wadsworth 

Charity Ann Hendren Benjamin Ernest Watson 

Cordelia Carney Higgins Florence Elizabeth Wood 

Mildred Ross Hill Fern Wright 

The President then said: There are other names on this list 
which you have doubtless noted on the printed program in your 
hands. They are the names of those who would be here to-day were 
they not in service, having obeyed the call of duty to other parts, 
and none of us can think of them without emotion. They are Lieu- 
tenant Earl Terence Bonham, in France, a great football player, 
a great football captain, a fine all-round athlete, who went into the 
camp and was sent upon the completion of his term at Fort Har- 



Commencement Week 165 

rison to France, and was assigned at once to duty in the first bat- 
tery that fired in the first action against the Germans ; Sergeant Fred 
Daniels, — and we all like to think of Fred; Private Oscar Christo- 
pher Hagemier, at Camp Sherman, another true-hearted, fine lad; 
Lieutenant Henry Michener Jameson, Camp Taylor, a stalwart, 
manly, noble descendant of a sturdy, great race ; Corporal Halford 
Johnson, another beloved friend in France ; Lieutenant Whitney 
Rau Spiegel — he also completed his term at Fort Harrison and went 
to France with that quartette ; "Tow" Bonham (because it is only 
thus we knew him), and "Tuck" Brown (Hilton U. Brown, Jr.), 
who is to-day recovering from his wounds in a hospital on the 
French front, and Paul Ragsdale, who is over there in the trenches ; 
Whitney Spiegel is one of the first quartette to go ; Sergeant Charles 
Garrison Winders, Camp Shelby, a big-hearted, genial lad, loved by 
all, the son of the beloved pastor for years of the Downey Avenue 
Christian Church ; Private Merrill J. Woods, Camp Shelby, another 
true-hearted lad. Those eight would be here to-day, and perhaps 
there are others who might have completed their course had they 
remained, but these were definitely within reach of concluding with 
this commencement. 

These eight are a part of that great group that represent us in 
action in the service of their nation, — two hundred of them now; 
they are over there. We used to think and wonder whether these 
boys and girls of these days were of the same stuff as the one hun- 
dred and sixty-six that went out from the old North Western 
Christian University, now Butler, in the days of the Civil War, to 
help, as a distinguished speaker said in a great address from this 
platform here on Memorial Day, to keep this nation fit and make it 
adequate that in these days it might save or help to save the liberties 
of the world, as in those days it assured the liberty of a race. These 
boys and girls in these days we now know are no less sound at heart, 
no less lovers of their native land, no less disposed to be ungrudging 
in hazarding, if need be, their lives for the welfare of their fellows. 
So there is a part of the record of this college, a part of that mag- 
nificent record that is being made by the college men throughout the 
length and breadth of this land, so that we know to-day that we 
have not been deceived as we fostered and strove to make these col- 
leges what we wished to see them. 



166 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Now, you young men and young women, this is the very last thing 
we can do for you. I have given you in the name of the college, 
and very gladly, a bit of parchment which says that you have com- 
pleted a certain course of study, and that you are for that reason 
entitled to that precious thing, — and it is a precious thing indeed, 
a treasure to be coveted — the Bachelor of Arts degree. I want to 
congratulate you with all my heart upon having come thus far on 
the way. Look back on the years, — the grade, the high school, and 
now the college, and you have chosen well. You have made your- 
self of the elect. I congratulate behind you the fathers and mothers, 
the brothers and the sisters, and all who love you, because I know 
the tug at their heartstrings that those feel when they think of 
you, — and don't ever forget that. I congratulate you upon being 
able to live in these; most glorious days. We have had a great mes- 
sage this morning — words of very truth in every accent from be- 
ginning to end. I would that you might heed all that our great 
speaker has said to you throughout your lives ; but I would have 
you remember now that you are going out into the day of greatest 
opportunity, and, as I have said to you before, those who are here 
to-day of the class of 1893 and who celebrate to-day their twenty- 
fifth anniversary, feel this way: "Would that we were just going 
out into action as you are now, when life means so much, when 
opportunity is everywhere about you." Perhaps your only danger 
is the risk of confusion in making choice of the most useful thing. 
So, friends, hold yourselves as precious. Your lives are very dear 
and very choice, and as you go out be of good courage, and, oh, be 
strong in your faith. We know now as we did not know a few 
years ago what it means to have a faith in the great God, and what 
it means to have His son, Jesus Christ, as our elder brother. That 
is the thing that makes it easy for the boys who are over yonder 
to "go over the top" into "No Man's Land" and on beyond. 
Friends, keep yourselves always in the shadow of the Master. Hold 
your lives precious and dear and acquit yourselves as good Amer- 
icans, and thereby justify what the members of your faculty have 
striven to do for you, and what, more than that, the founders of 
this college and all other colleges have had in mind when they gave 
of their time and their best that you and we might thus profit. Go, 



Commencement Week 167 

friends, in the fear of God and in the fellowship of his son, and God 
will bless you to the end of your days; and whether it be a short 
time or long, it matters not, just so you are found every instant 
doing your duty. The rest will take care of itself. God bless you. 

I have the announcements of certain honors. The highest stand- 
ing for the college course is determined upon the basis of at least 
three years of residence in the college. Accordingly there are some 
who have made high records who are excluded because of a shorter 
residence here. The highest standing for the entire college course 
are: 

Mary Virginia Kingsbury, 
Eda Bachman, 
Helen Annis Barry. 

A number of years ago we established here a Senior Scholarship. 
That carries with it certain honors and relief from fees through the 
senior year. That scholarship is granted to the student because of 
excellence in class work, of high character, and of promise, so far 
as we can determine, of great future usefulness. I take great pleas- 
ure in announcing the award of that scholarship to Miss Mary 
Katherine O'Haver. 

This, as I mentioned a moment ago, is the twenty-fifth anniversary 
of the class of 1893. We hope to have with us to-day some members 
of that class. They met together here on the campus Sunday after- 
noon. This is a note which I wish to read from that class : 

"To Butler College, our Alma Mater : We, the members of the 
class of 1893, on our twenty-fifth anniversary, do hereby give two 
fifty-dollar government bonds of the Third Liberty Loan. Even 
if the gift in itself is small, we hope to be able to show something 
of the sense of appreciation and gratitude which we feel to Butler 
College. We treasure what we have learned there. We cherish the 
friendships formed there. We shall never forget the college and 
we trust the college will never forget us." 

My friends, this concludes our exercises of this the Sixty-third 
Commencement. Will you kindly rise while we are dismissed by 
the Rev. Raphael H. Miller, secretary of the Men and Millions 
Movement. 



Scholarships for French Girls in American Colleges 

The Association of American Colleges is arranging to bring one 
hundred French girls to the United States for the academic year 
1918-'19 for attendance at American universities by means of schol- 
arships. The scheme provides that each institution shall take two 
girls and pay their entire collegiate expenses and board, w^hile the 
French Government will pay their traveling expenses to our country. 

The enthusiasm with which many colleges have entered upon this 
plan is another indication of the soundness of the patriotism of the 
American college and of the earnestness of the authorities to render 
the largest possible service in behalf of the new world democracy. 
One of the college presidents has written, "You may include our 
institution as one of the schools that is quite willing to accept its 
share in responding to a nation as noble as France and as heroic in 
its defense of their homes and country." 

As chairman of the Department of Education, Woman's Section, 
of the State Council of Defense, Miss Katharine M. Graydon has 
been asked to take this matter up with the colleges of Indiana. Earl- 
ham College and DePauw University have consented to take two 
young women each, while Indiana University is taking one graduate 
student through another channel. It is earnestly hoped that our col- 
lege may be able, through her management or through her generous 
friends, to enrich herself by bringing into our midst two of these 
French girls. 

News from the Board of Trustees 

At a recent meeting of the board of trustees John E. Canady, of 
Anderson, Indiana, and Merle Sidener, of Indianapolis, were elected 
to fill the vacancies created by the death of James B. Pearcy, '88, and 
the resignation of John H. Frazee. 

Two new departments were created, a department of Education 
and a department of Household Economics. 

Earl H. C. Davies, Ph. D., of Washington University, was ap- 
pointed professor of chemistry. 



The Friendship Circle 169 

Miss Evelyn Butler, A. B., Butler College, 1893 ; A. M., Columbia 
University, 1917, was made professor of English (Demia Butler 
Chair of English Literature). 

Miss Anna Weaver, A. B., Leland Stanford, Jr., University, 1898; 
A. M., ibid., 1899, was made professor of Greek (Jeremy Anderson 
Chair of Greek). 

Memorial Day Address 

One of the memorable occasions of the year was the observance 
of Memorial Day. The exercises were held on the campus. The 
guests of the day were the senior classes of Manual Training High 
School, of the Technical High School, and of Shortridge High 
School. The program consisted of general patriotic singing, ot a 
brief talk by Mr. E. U. Graff, superintendent of the Indianapolis 
public schools, and of an address by Dr. A. B. Philputt, pastor of 
Central Christian Church and member of the Butler College board 
of trustees. It was a noble address and we deeply regret that we 
are unable to present it to our readers. Now and then the old col- 
lege rings with a fervor and eloquence worthy of the Hebrew 
prophets, an expression of righteousness which glorifies the sur- 
roundings and makes for the highest inspiration. Such was the 
utterance of the speaker on May 30. 

The Friendship Circle 

The Friendship Circle is a unique alumnal organization which 
has been meeting for two years. It had its inception on Jime 12, 
1916, when Georgia Butler Clifford, '91, entertained at luncheon the 
women who were graduated in her class, a few other college friends, 
and Miss Harriet Noble, professor of English at Butler from 1883 
to 1893. This meeting of former friends, classmates, and teacher 
was also a celebration of Miss Noble's birthday, an anniversary 
which Mrs. Clifford had kept in mind through the years since her 
college days. The occasion was so delightful that more frequent 
meetings of the group were suggested, and from that sprang the 
idea of a club. 



170 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

The organization is in reality a loving tribute to Miss Noble, who 
as teacher and friend has been a vital element in the life and devel- 
opment of the women who are its members. Every one of them 
has retained through the passing years a friendly relationship with 
their teacher, corresponding with her when away and seeing her 
frequently. The name. Friendship Circle, symbolically expresses 
the idea of the organization : Miss Noble, the true center ; its mem- 
bers, the radii of the circle, and all bound together by the golden 
hoop of friendship. 

The meetings are held once a month at the homes of members. 
Since the food administrator's ban on afternoon refreshments, the 
circle has been gathering for luncheon each month. On Wednes- 
day of commencement week the birthday of Miss Noble was again 
celebrated at the home of Rose McNeal Kessler, '95, with a delight- 
ful luncheon. Mrs. Kessler lives down on Pleasant Run, where 
students of the old days were wont to hunt botanical specimens. It 
is a hardly recognizable region now, for a broad boulevard sweeps 
through its midst and has cleared away the most of the delightful 
tangle of vines and shrubs and wild blossoms. But Rose has man- 
aged to retain for herself much of the old quiet and charm and lives 
in a veritable garden of birds and flowers. During the afternoon 
Miss Noble spoke of her birthday the year before, when she had 
been in a sanatorium at Battle Creek, Michigan, and of what the 
circle and its friendship had meant to her during the months of ill- 
ness there. She expressed the hope that the Friendship Circle 
would live on and on through the years. Mrs. Myrtie Sewell Whit- 
sel, '86, of Chicago; Mrs. Emma Engel Bales, ex-'93, of Winches- 
ter, and Mrs. Emma Johnson Davis, '94, of Oxford, Ohio, were 
guests of the afternoon. 

The members of the club besides Miss Noble are : Georgia Butler 
Clifford, '91 ; Evelyn Butler, '93 ; Julia Fish, '93 ; Eva Jeffries King, 
'91; Orpha Jeffries Hall, '93; Romaine Braden Schell, '90; Grace 
Julian Clarke, '84; Corinne Thrasher Carvin, '86; Julia Graydon 
Jameson, '90; Mary Galvin Davidson, '94; Georgia Galvin Oakes, 
'95; Letta Newcomb Wright, '92; Mary Brouse Schmuck, '91 ; Jen- 
nie Armstrong Howe, '89; Rose McNeal Kessler, '95, and Vida 
Tibbott Cottman, '90. 



"One Drop More" 171 

Deep in the hearts of all these women is sincere gratitude to their 
Alma Mater, Butler College, the source of their sweet common 
memories ; she who gave to them the opportunity for forming these 
rich, lifelong friendships, and the inestimable benefit of contact 
with such teachers as Miss Harriet Noble and all the old corps who 
become dearer and nearer as the years roll by. A. B. C. 

Butler College Bulletin 

Many interesting facts are contained in the Bulletin of 1917-1918, 
among them this enumeration of students : 

Graduate students 15 

Undergraduate students 419 

Special students 3 

Teachers' College Study Department 238 

Summer session 80 

Teachers' Normal Course 14 

Total 769 

Deduct for names counted twice 13 

Total number of students 756 

"One Drop More" 

The atmosphere of the college has naturally and rightly been 
serious, — to some somber ; but on May 25 the students and faculty, 
trustees and alumni and friends joined in a rollicking, frolicking, 
dramatic entertainment given in the Masonic Temple by the Biology 
Club. The farce was written by Miss Mary K. O'Haver, '19, and 
Miss Jean Brown, '19, and was also staged by them. Great credit 
is due the girls for their accomplishment. The dramatis personae 
was made up entirely of the boys of the club, and they carried off 
their parts with gusto, whether a sweet maiden, or a Red Cross 
nurse, or a knitting mamma. The proceeds netted the club about 
$200. 



172 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Some Requests 

Since the secretary of the Alumni Association has been appointed 
to compile a history of the Butler boys who are wearing the colors, 
she makes a very earnest appeal to the alumni and friends for help. 
This work will be of little or no value unless it be well done; there- 
fore, the request goes forth for your assistance. Our first effort will 
be to gain the name and home address of every boy who has ever 
been connected in any way with Butler College. From that point 
we can work out to fuller information. 

Will you not, without being personally asked, send in to the sec- 
retary the two items mentioned above of every Butler boy you 
know who has enlisted? Do not rely upon some one else answering 
this request, but please answer it yourself. The sifting can easily 
be done here. 

With all the information possible, the secretary hopes to meet 
her appointment by compiling material which will eventually make 
a volume on The Butler Student in the Great War. 

The secretary also asks for your address whenever you change 
your residence. Letters come in, sometimes quite sharp, asking why 
the Quarterly fails to reach subscribers. The failure is due to one 
thing and one thing only — you forget to inform us of your removal. 
Please remember this. 

The treasurer wishes to remind those who have not paid their 
alumnal fee for 1917-1918 that it would be most gratefully received 
now. The Quarterly must be self-supporting, it is self-supporting 
when the alumni pay $1 per year; but when only a fraction of the 
fees come in, matters at this end are hard. If the Quarterly pos- 
sesses any value to you, why not pay for it? 



Personal Mention 

Mrs. Mary Montgomery McKay, ex-, with son, visited college 
in May. 

Mrs. Mary Stilz Talbert, '12, and son spent commencement week 
in Irvington. 

Miss Gwyneth Harry, '14, is spending the summer vacation at 
the University of Wisconsin. 

Earl S. McRoberts, '17, has received an appointment to the United 
States Radio School, College Park, Maryland. 

Dr. Haynes J. Freeland and Mrs. Mary Parker Freeland, '14, are 
at home at 1756 Race street, Denver, Colorado. 

Miss Mary Gans, daughter of E. W. Cans, '87, graduated from 
Vassar College in June; Miss Adelaide Wise, daughter of E. P. 
Wise, '87, from Hiram College. 

The Biology Club scholarship of $125 was awarded to Miss Mary 
Brown, '19, who will attend the summer course of the Marine Lab- 
oratory at Woods Hole, Massachusetts. 

Of the English department. Miss Corinne Welling, '12, will spend 
the summer vacation at Boulder, Colorado; Professor Evelyn But- 
ler at Coltmibia University, New York. 

It was pleasant to see at the alumni supper Mrs. Alice Secrest 
Snider, '66; Mrs. Mary Stewart Cochnower, a former student, of 
Cincinnati, and Mrs. Mary Laughlin Sims. 

The Quarterly is pleased to report the convalescence of Mrs. Ira 
W. Christian (May Durbin, ex-'81), at her home in Edinburg; of 
Miss Lola Conner, '17, and of Miss Beth Barr, '15. 

President Howe, '89, entertained at luncheon on commencement 
day. Dr. William Douglas Mackenzie, Dr. Scot Butler, '68, Dr. Jabez 
Hall, Dr. Morrow, Dr. Philputt, Abram Cory, R. H. Miller, W. G. 
Irwin, '89, and Rev. Z. T. Sweeney. 



174 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Layman Schell, '21, son of H. S. Schell, '90, is stationed at Port 
Royal, South Carolina. 

Fred Harvey Jacobs, '16, returned from Yale University in time 
to spend commencement week in Irvington. 

Miss Vera Koehring, '16, is spending the summer in Miss Ger- 
trude Tuttle's camp near Burt Lake, Michigan. 

M. M. Amunson, '05, of the First Church of Christ, Brooklyn, 
New York, has been granted a leave of absence and is serving in 
France. 

George W. Hemry, '05, has been appointed to Y. M. C. A. work 
overseas, and is now probably in France. He sends his kindly re- 
membrance to all Butlerites. 

The degrees of Doctor of Philosophy were conferred at Yale upon 
Clarence L. Reidenbach, '12, and Bachelor of Divinity upon Fred 
H. Jacobs, '16; Master of Arts at Indiana University upon Edith 
Hendren, '17, and Alice Dunn, '16. 

The annual Sandwich Club banquet was held on May 7, at the 
Downey Avenue Christian Church. At it were seen of the alumni 
members T. W. Grafton, '80 ; E. E. Moorman, '99 ; Frank Davison, 
'14; Elmo Higham, '14; Stanley Sellick, '16. 

At the commencement exercises of the Indiana College of Music 
and Fine Arts on June 15, Miss Mary Louise Rumpler, '17, ap- 
peared as vocalist on the program of the artists' course, and Miss 
Flora Maude Askren, a former student, as pianist. 

Dr. Samuel McGaughey, '97, has received a commission as cap- 
tain in the Medical Reserve Corps. He was one of the first physi- 
cians to ofifer his services to the government when the recent call 
was made for three hundred additional physicians from Indiana. 

Miss Nellie Kern, '00, is spending her summer at The House of 
Good Will, East Boston, Massachusetts. She writes that she is 
"enthusiastic over this opportunity to live in a settlement house in 
the Italian quarter. Two years ago I taught a class of Italian girls 
and fell under the charm of this work." 



Personal Mention 175 

Howard Caldwell, '15, has enlisted as seaman in the United States 
navy. 

Mrs. Hazel Collins Lloyd, '13, of St. Louis, and children, spent 
June in Irvington. 

Mrs. Emma Johnson Davis, '94, returned from Miami, Ohio, to 
spend commencement week in Irvington with her parents. 

Charles M. Fillmore, '90, has resigned his charge of the Hillside 
Christian Church and accepted the pastorate of Eastern Heights 
Christian Church, Indianapolis. 

D. Sommer Robinson, '10, has been serving since March as chap- 
lain on the transport "Frederick." Mrs. Robinson and four-year- 
old Dan remain in Cambridge, Massachusetts. 

Miss Mary L. Winks, '15, is at Washington, where she has entire 
charge of the filing for the administration and planning sections 
of the engineering division of the Ordnance Department. 

Karl S. Means, '14, received a fellowship for 1918-'19 at the Uni- 
versity of Chicago, but in the dearth of teachers of physics has been 
persuaded to remain another year at Butler. The college appreciates 
this decision of Mr. Means. 

Mrs. Mary Galvin Davidson, '94, has returned to Saranac Lake, 
after a few days at home. In June her eldest daughter, Margaret, 
was graduated from Shortridge High School, and her second daugh- 
ter, Katharine, was operated upon for appendicitis. 

It was pleasant to see again on the campus James G. Randall, '93, 
and Mrs. Randall. Dr. Randall is professor of history at Roanoke 
College, Virginia, and one of our most valued alumni. He was en 
route to the University of Illinois, where he will teach in the sum- 
mer school. 

John Fuller, '17, wrote in March from Vologda, a place of 50,000, 
strictly Russian. He tells of meeting three bears one night walk- 
ing up the main street. Probably his evening walks have been dis- 
continued. Strict censorship prevents enumeration of various ex- 
periences. He finds in the town little food at exorbitant price. 



176 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Mrs. Anne Hughes Wilkinson, '07, and family have moved to 
Marion, Indiana, for permanent residence. 

Mrs. Emma Engel Bales, ex-'93, of Winchester, Indiana, was the 
guest of Mrs. Vida Tibbott Cottman, '90, during commencement. 

A. L. Ward, '99, has accepted the pastorate of the Christian 
church at Franklin, Indiana. The Quarterly sends congratulations 
to both pastor and people. 

The Butler Alumnae Literary Club has elected for 1918-1919 the 
following officers : President, Miss Eva Lennes, '08 ; vice-president. 
Miss Corinne Welling, '12; secretary-treasurer, Miss Barcus 
Tichenor, '10. 

Here at Butler we are all happy in the appearance of John Iden 
Kautz's letters in the volume, "Trucking to the Trenches," and 
commend it to the alumni. The book will find a worthy place in the 
literature of the war. 

Mrs. Myrtella Sewell Whitsel, '86, of Chicago, and Mr. Whitsel 
were in Irvington during commencement week, the guests of Mrs. 
Corinne Thrasher Carvin, '86. It is hoped not so many years will 
pass until Mrs. Whitsel returns again. 

Dr. Alexander Jameson and Mrs. Jameson, '90, accompanied Miss 
Katharine M. Jameson, '16, to Hattiesburg, Mississippi, where the 
wedding of Lieutenant Lewis and Miss Jameson took place on Sun- 
day evening, June 23, at six o'clock, at the Presbyterian Church, 
the chaplain of the 150th Infantry officiating. 

Dr. Clarence L. Reidenbach, of New Haven, was installed as 
pastor of the Downey Avenue Christian Church on Sunday, July 7. 
He was elected to fill the pulpit in March, at which time he was 
studying in the graduate school of Yale University. He has recently 
received the degree of doctor of philosophy. He is a graduate of the 
Yale School of Divinity, New Haven, Conn., taking his theological 
work following graduation from Butler College in 1912. On Tues- 
day evening, July 8, a reception was given to the new pastor and his 
wife. Mrs. Reidenbach was Miss Hildred Hughes, a former student 
of the college. 



Personal Mention 177 

Mrs. Margaret Wynn Milligan, '06, has returned after a visit of 
several weeks with her husband, Lieutenant James W. MilUgan, 
stationed at Fort Adams, Rhode Island. 

Jasper T. Moses, '03, is serving in Washington in the editorial 
department of the Intelligence Division of War Trade Board work 
Mrs. Moses and the four children are at Newcastle. 

Mrs. Cordelia Butler Tefft, daughter of Dr. and Mrs. Scot Butler 
and a former student of the college, is in Irvington with Mr. and 
Mrs. Perry H. Clifford, while her husband, Dr. William Henry 
Tefft, is serving overseas as Lieutenant-Colonel in the Medical Corps 
of the United States Army. 

E. E. Moorman, '99, is the new teacher of the Friday Noon Bible 
Class for Sunday School Workers, conducted at the Young Men's 
Christian Association building. For a number of years he has been 
pastor of the Englewood Christian Church of Indianapolis. The 
Friday Noon class was organized in September, 1901, and has had 
only two permanent leaders. Judge J. W. Thompson, from 1901 to 
1911, and Thomas C. Da)v from 1911 to 1918. Its purpose is to 
serve teachers of the International Uniform Sunday School Lessons, 
and for many years it has been conducted as an all-the-year-round 
class, open to all men and women who desire to attend. 

On June 24 occurred an event of interest not only to the immedi- 
ate family of which B. F. Dailey, '87, and Miss Urith Dailey, '17, 
are closely connected with Butler College as alumni, but also to a 
large circle of friends and to those interested in the history of Indi- 
ana. On a farm near Clinton, Indiana, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Dailey 
celebrated the sixtieth anniversary of their marriage. Every living 
descendant and descendant-in-law was present at the family gath- 
ering and dinner, twenty-five in number. Mrs. Eliza Dailey Cook 
and Mr. Cook, three children, and two grandchildren; B. F. Dailey, 
Mrs. Dailey, and three children; Mrs. Emma Dailey Bradfield. a 
former student, three children, and one grandchild, were among the 
number. Mr. Dailey is eighty-two years of age, Mrs. Dailey seventy- 
seven. They were married sixty years ago and came as groom and 
bride to the farm and house which have remained their home ever 



178 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

since. There their six children were born. There their three chil- 
dren have died. There have occurred all the joys and all the sor- 
rows incident to their long journey. There has radiated an influence 
which has blessed the community. They both came of fine, sturdy, 
pioneer stock of the kind which has made and enriched Indiana. 
Mrs. Dailey was Miss Linna Wright, member of a family which has 
given twenty-three preachers to the West. Her grandfather came 
to Indiana from Lexington, North Carolina. Her father, then a 
boy of twelve years, wanted to walk all the way, and did so as far 
as Putnam county, except the one day which sickness compelled 
him to remain on the wagon. Mr. Dailey's father's family came 
from Butler county, Ohio, in a wagon, and in 1824 settled on a farm 
in Parke county. 

The Irvington community enjoyed a privilege on the afternoons 
of June 29 and 30, when Mrs. Jennie F. Jeffries opened her house 
for the display of a rare collection of Oriental rugs and textiles. 
A Persian gentleman, Mr. Moustapha Avigdor, is in possession of 
this collection, and through the influence of Mrs. Moddie Jeffries 
Williams, '97, of Toledo, was willing to visit Indianapolis. Mrs. 
Williams, a connoisseur of Eastern weaving, interpreted the rugs, 
while Mr. Moustapha supplemented her intelligent talk by opening 
the eyes of all present to the significance of many characteristics 
previously unknown. His love for his possessions and his tireless 
cordiality in showing and explaining their value were appreciated 
by all present, among whom were many of our alumni. 

Among the alumni seen on the campus were : Mrs. N. E. Atkin- 
son, Mrs. Alice Secrest Snider, Mrs. Mary Stewart Cochnower, Scot 
Butler, A. C. Ayres, Walter Scott Smith, Chauncy Butler, Barton 
W. Cole and Mrs. Cole, Mrs. Mary Laughlin Sims, B. F. Kinnick, 
Annie Tibbott, Mrs. May Thornton, Katharine M. Graydon, 
Demarchus C. Brown, Charles W. Moores and Mrs. Moores, Hil- 
ton U. Brown and Mrs. Brown, Mrs. Clarence L. Goodwin, Ellen 
D. Graydon, Cora Smith, Mrs. Grace Julian Clarke, William C. 
Smith and Mrs. Smith, J. P. Findley, Mrs. Myrtella Sewell Whitsel 
and Mr. Whitsel, Corinne Thrasher Carvin, Jane Graydon, Erastus 
Conner, B. F. Dailey and Mrs. Dailey, R. F. Kautz and Mrs. Kautz, 
George H. Clarke, A. M. Hall, Perry H. Clifford. W. G. Irwin, T. 



Personal Mention 179 

C. Hov/e, Mrs. Nettie Sweeney Miller, H. S. Schell and Mrs. 
Romaine Braden Schell, Mrs. Vida Tibbott Cottman, C. M. Fill- 
more, India Martz, Mrs. Georgia Butler Clifford, Adolph Schmuck 
and Mrs. Mary Brouse Schmuck, Mrs. Eva Jeffries King, Mrs. 
Orpha Jeffries Hall, W. F. Lacy, Mrs. Letta Newcomb Wright and 
Mr. Wright, Bertha Thormeyer, Evelyn Butler, Julia Fish, Will D. 
Howe, Frank F. Hummel and Mrs. Hummel, Mrs. Lona Iden Lacy, 
Dr. Daniel W. Layman and Mrs. Layman, Frank Ford Williams 
and Mrs. Williams and daughter, Mrs. Emma Engel Bales, Clara 
Goe, Mrs. Emma Johnson Davis, Willis K. Miller and Mrs. Isabella 
Moore Miller and son, Mrs. May Brayton Johnson, Edgar T. For- 
syth, Mrs. Georgia Galvin Oakes, George V. Miller and Mrs. Pearl 
Jeffries Miller, Charles Richard Yoke and Mrs. Yoke, James C. 
Burkhardt, Mrs. Jessie Christian Brown, Mrs. Edith Keay Fowler 
and Mr. Fowler, John W. Atherton and Mrs. Louise Brown Ather- 
ton, John R. Carr and Mrs. Elizabeth Whitesides Carr, Fred Robin- 
son and Mrs. Robinson, John W. Moore and Mrs. Flora Green 
Moore, Mrs. Florence Moore Huggins, H. L. Herod, James G. Ran- 
dall and Mrs. Randall, Ruth Allerdice, Golie Stucker, Pearl For- 
syth, Carl Turner and Mrs. Daisy McGowan Turner, Clay Trusty, 
Elizabeth T. Bogert, Everett Schofield, Lois Kile, Charles O. Lee 
and Mrs. Lee, Monta Anderson, Barcus Tichenor, Eva DeWald, 
Mrs. Sidney Hecker Warfel and Mr. Warfel, Harry H. Martindale, 
Mrs. Gertrude Pruitt Hutchcraft, Irma Bachman, Catharine Mar- 
tin, Mrs. Mary Stilz Talbert, Corinne Welling, Mrs. Hazel Collins 
Lloyd, Martha Kincaid, Helen Tichenor, Mrs. Juliet Brown Cole- 
man, Mrs. Ellen Graham George, Gwyneth Harry, Robert Hamp 
and Mrs. Dorothy Kautz Hamp, Karl Means and Mrs. Means, Mrs. 
Cornelia Morrison, Carl Van Winkle, Mary Williams, Mrs. Alta 
Barmfuhrer Kane, Mable Felt, Margaret Griffith, Mrs. Bernice Hall 
Glass, Mrs. Marjorie Hall Montgomery and Mr. Montgomery, 
Louis N. Kirkhoff and Mrs. Ruth Cunningham Kirkhoff, John Mc- 
Bride, Clarence Oldham, Grace O. Small, Ferris Stephens and Mrs. 
Stephens, Amy Banes, Edith Eickhoff, Annette Hedges, Fred H, 
Jacobs, Vera Koehring, Hanna Mueller, Stanley Sellick, Grace 
Thomas, Florence Moffett, Urith Dailey, Mary Louise Rumpler, 
Ruth Habbe, Mary Zoercher, Florence Wilson, and many others. 



Marriages 

GiLLMAN-FiNDLEY. — On April 27, at the bride's home in Irving- 
ton, Mr. Waide Gillman, ex-'18, and Miss Helen Findley, '18, 
daughter of J. P. Findley, '86, were married. Mr. and Mrs. Gill- 
man are at home in Brown county. 

Shellhorn-Coughlen. — On May 30, at the Fourth Presbyterian 
Church, Indianapolis, Lieutenant Robert Hamilton Shellhorn and 
Miss Bertha Coughlen, '18, were married. Lieutenant and Mrs. 
Shellhorn left immediately for Fort Sill, Oklahoma. 

Thompson-Faust. — On June 14, at Baird, Texas, Mr. Stith 
Thompson, '09, and Miss Louise Faust were married. Dr. Thomp- 
son is professor of English in the University of Texas. 

MiLBURN-HuRST. — On June 19, at the bride's home, Indianapolis, 
by the Rev. C. M. Fillmore, '90, Mr. William S. Milburn and Miss 
Gladys Helene Hurst, '16, were married. Mr. Milburn is stationed 
at Paris Island, South Carolina, in the radio wireless service, where 
the bride accompanied him. 

Nethercut-Habbe. — On June 20, at the bride's home in Indi- 
anapolis, Lieutenant W. R. Nethercut and Miss Ruth Habbe, '17, 
were married. Lieutenant Nethercut is stationed at Camp Dix, 
Dallas, Texas, where he and his bride are at home. 

Kirby-Weaver. — On June 22, in Indianapolis, Mr. Clifford B. 
Kirby, ex-'18, and Miss Mary Milburn Weaver were married. Mr. 
and Mrs. Kirby are at home in Indianapolis. 

Pate-Harris. — On June 22, at Bloomfield, Indiana, Mr. Baxter 
Pate and Miss Verna Harris, '16, were married. Mr. Pate is sta- 
tioned at Chillicothe, Ohio, where he and Mrs. Pate will for the 
present be at home. 

Lewis-Jameson. — On June 23, at Hattiesburg, Mississippi, Lieu- 
tenant Philip Curtis Lewis and Miss Katharine Merrill Jameson, 
'16, were married. Lieutenant Lewis is stationed at Camp Shelby, 
where he and his bride are temporarily at home. 



Births 181 

Ryan-Noland. — On July 1, at the bride's home in Anderson, 
Indiana, Captain Oswald Ryan, a former student, and Miss Rebecca 
Noland were married. Mr. Ryan is captain of Battery D, 2nd In- 
diana Field Artillery, and is prosecuting attorney of Madison 
county. He is at present stationed at West Point, Kentucky. 

Groom-Banes. — On July 6, at the home of the bride's parents 
in Indianapolis, Mr. Stewart B. Groom and Miss Amy H. Banes, 
'16, were married. After a motor trip through the East, Mr. and 
Mrs. Groom will go to Charleston, South Carolina, where the bride- 
groom is in service with the Naval Aviation corps. 

Browning-Hendren. — On July 6, at the home of the bride's 
parents in Indianapolis, Mr. Henry L. Browning, ex-'18, and Miss 
Charity Hendren, '18, were married by Mr. Stanley Sellick, '16. 
Mr. Browning is stationed in service with the Aviation corps at 
the Speedway. He and his bride will be at home, after a short 
wedding trip, in Indianapolis. 

Births 

Streightoff. — To Professor Frank H. Streightoff and Mrs. 
Frances Doan Streightoff, '07, on January 11, 1918, at Greencastle, 
Indiana, a son — Frank Doan. 

Hamp. — To Mr. Robert W. Hamp, '14, and Mrs. Dorothy Kautz 
Hamp, '14, on May 15, at Indianapolis, a daughter — Marian Joan. 

Myers.- — To Mr. Samuel Myers and Mrs. Lettie Lowe Myers, 
'08, on April 20, at Indianapolis, a daughter — Bonnie Bess. 

Carr. — To Mr. John R. Carr, '00, and Mrs. Elizabeth Whitesides 
Carr, '07, on April 22, at Indianapolis, a son — John Robert. 

Murray. — To Mr. James L. Murray, '09, and Mrs. Lucy Hughes 
Murray, ex-, on June 11, at Indianapolis, a son — William Hughes. 

Gilbert. — To Dr. Gilbert and Mrs. Margaret Crockett Gilbert, 
ex-'16, on April 16, at Ann Arbor, Michigan, a son — Quinter 
Olen, Jr. 



182 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

MiNTON. — To Mr. Ralph C. Minton, ex-'17, and Mrs. Henrietta 
Cochran Minton, ex-' 17, on May 18, at Indianapolis, a daughter — 
Media Catherine. 

Deaths 

Avery. — Dr. John P. Avery, '60, died in Indianapolis on April 9, 
in his seventy-seventh year. He was buried from his home in Crown 
Hill. 

Brevoort. — William H. Brevoort, of the class of '62, died at his 
residence, 522 Busserou street, Vincennes, Indiana, at 2 a. m., April 
23, 1918, at the age of eighty years, two months and ten days. He 
was the last survivor but one of the class of which Addison C. 
Harris, prominent lawyer, and once United States ambassador to 
Austria-Himgary, and Alvin I. Hobbs, distinguished preacher, were 
members. 

Brevoort, in the old North Western Christian University time, 
under Professors Benton, Hoshour, Brown, and Hoss, was a dili- 
gent and an efficient student. He had a high standing in his studies, 
and was notable for his sterling honesty and conscientiousness, not 
only in the classroom, but in his social and business relations. It 
was unthinkable that he would do anything dishonorable or petty. 
These characteristics followed him through life. Soon after his 
graduation, for a brief interval, he taught effectively the high-school 
branches in Columbus, Indiana. But he devoted himself to agri- 
culture. He was not content to follow the methods of farming 
prevalent in his youth, but kept in touch with all the progress of 
the last two-thirds of a century in invention and in discovery. One 
of his classmates, in making an extended tour with him of his city 
and surrounding miles, was surprised by the spontaneous marks of 
deference and respect shown him by all his acquaintances, who 
seemed to be everywhere. The Vincennes Sun, the oldest newspaper 
in Indiana, and moderate in expression, on the day of his death, 
said : "He had a large circle of friends and associates in his business 
pursuits, who will miss his confidence, advice, and good judgment." 

By the exercise of that poise and concentration which marked 
his course in college, he acquired a large property, mostly real estate. 



Deaths 183 

He died the owner of about seven thousand acres of fertile soil, 
touching Vincennes and the Wabash river, and extending down- 
stream about nine miles. He was the largest landowner in Knox 
county, and it may be doubted whether any natural person in Indiana 
owned a larger number of cultivated acres. For many years he 
struggled for the construction of a levee to protect from overflow 
the vast stretch of which his land was a part. A few years before 
his death he succeeded. The levee was built ; it took his name ; and 
his lands were assessed $75,000 as benefits. One of his sidelines was 
the purchase, rearing, and sale of live stock. Thus, he converted 
the raw material of his farms into animal tissue, decreasing labor 
and increasing profit. 

William H. Brevoort was a son of a physician. Dr. Jason F. 
Brevoort, of Dutch, not of German extraction, retired at the time 
when the subject of this sketch was in college, and resident and 
owner of a considerable landed estate in Bartholomew county. 
William H. moved to Knox county in 1865, and bought a small 
parcel of land around which his extended acres grew. In 1869, he 
married Miss Harriet Mantle, a daughter of Dr. John M. Mantle, 
through whom he became closely connected with the Judah fam- 
ily, well known throughout Indiana, and with numerous descendants 
of Noah Noble, governor from 1831 to 1837. Harriet Mantle died. 
In 1876, Brevoort married Miss Amelia Shattuck, whom he sur- 
vived. He left but one child, John M., the issue of the Mantle mar- 
riage, who is a Butler alumnus, '90, is married, and lives contiguous 
to the homestead. 

William H. Brevoort was a zealous member of the Christian or 
Disciples' church, and an earnest believer in the propagation of 
its tenets, based, as he thought he knew, on the text of the Holy 
Bible. He lived a life of honest, of intense, endeavor. He never 
did a conscious wrong. He dared to say and to do whatever he be- 
lieved to be right. He had the true chivalry — moral courage. He 
lived and he died, sans peiir et sans reproche. 

Austin F. Denny, '62. 

TiMNEY. — Kenneth Timney died at his mother's home in Fair- 
land on April 7. Kenneth, better known as "Tommy," entered But- 
ler in the fall of 1912. He was genial and soon had many friends. 



184 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Spring found him in his place on the baseball team, helping to bring 
honor to his college. Upon leaving Butler at the close of one year's 
work, he began teaching at Shelbyville, but ill health there forced 
him to cease all labor. However, he won for himself a place in the 
hearts of all with whom he came in contact. Perhaps the most 
fitting word to say of Kenneth is that his life was not lived in vain, 
for it leaves to all who knew him fond memories — memories to be a 
source of strength in times of trouble. Karl S. Means, '14. 

Allee. — Alice Catharine, infant daughter of Ruth Hendrickson 
AUee, '11, and the late Eugene Allee, died on June 17, in Indian- 
apolis, and was buried at Cloverdale, Indiana. Mr. Allee died on 
April 14. In this brief notice lies a depth of sorrow, for which the 
Quarterly sends to Mrs. Allee its tender sympathy. 

Our Correspondence 

Mrs. Ethel Woody Horton, '07 : I feel as if I must steal Ring 
Lardner's words and say that I am following "in the wake of the 
war," or, more accurately, war construction. Since last June my 
husband has been with the firm of Bates & Rogers, of Chicago, who 
are doing government contracts. This work took him first to Rock- 
ford, Illinois, where he superintended many barracks. Last winter 
he was doing his bit in the construction of the Hog Island shipyards, 
and now his firm is doing warehouses on the Susquehanna across 
the river from Harrisburg. The children and I have followed Mr. 
Horton from place to place, enjoying the sight-seeing possibilities, 
as well as the privilege of being near him in these days of wartime 
uncertainties. Just now we have a delightful camp in the moun- 
tains, where the youngsters can run and shout to their hearts' 
content. 

I did certainly enjoy the April number of the Quarterly. 
Although I never miss one of the items of "Personal Mention," I 
appreciate the articles which make it a magazine worth anybody's 
reading, whether an alumnus of Butler or not. Best of all, however, 
it takes me backward to the old campus, the time-worn, much-loved 
buildings, and to that beautiful epoch in my life — my college days 
at Butler. 



Our Correspondence 185 

Roderick A. McLeod, '14: I am sending you a copy of a digest 
which I made of a diary I kept on my way to Batang. It was my 
purpose to send a copy to all of my friends ; but as I am occupied 
with pressing work at all times, I cannot do so. If you think it 
interesting enough, please pass it to the faculty of Butler. I am so 
sorry that I cannot write well, for I admire greatly — indeed I am 
thrilled by — the style of good writers. 

There are so many things of which I want to write you that I 
do not know where to begin. First of all, let me mention the beauti- 
ful silk flag which came to us. We shall always treasure it as the 
standard of Americanism. We shall always be grateful for this 
precious gift. 

We are both in good health. Mrs. MacLeod recovered rapidly 
from the injuries incident to the fall which I mentioned in the 
"digest." The climate is splendid. The days are pleasant, and the 
nights cool. Batang is 9,500 feet above sea-level, so the air is pure 
and dry. There is plenty of pure cold water. All things make for 
good health. 

It is now (February 24) the time of the Tibetan New Year, an 
event celebrated with great enthusiasm. The Tibetans are very 
fond of music and dancing, and at New Year's time they do a great 
deal of dancing. Last night a group of young people — our neigh- 
bors — came in and danced for us. It was charming to see the nat- 
ural grace of these mountaineers. They sang as they danced, and 
seemed so carefree and happy. 

We are busy at the study of Tibetan. It is a very interesting 
language, full of interesting expressions. For example, the words 
for "be careful" are "keep your mouth and eyes together." 

How we long for news from America, especially during these 
eventful times. Most of the news we get is three months old. The 
mail is very uncertain. ' Please send me the Quarterly. I love Butler 
College, and I want to know what is going on. 

Irene Hunt, '10: The Quarterly arrived yesterday. It is al- 
ways interesting and satisfying. Just now the intimate letters from 
the boys at the front are especially attractive because they help us 
to see the war from several points of view. I hope the commence- 
ment season will bring many alumni into touch with the college. 




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Butler Alumnal 
Quarterly 



OCTOBER. 1918 
Vol. VII No. 3 



INDIAN APOI.IS 



Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Vol. VII INDIANAPOLIS, IND., OCTOBER, 1918 No. 3 



ISSUED JANUARY, APRIL, JULY, OCTOBER 

Published by the Alumni Association of Butler College, Indianapolis, Ind. 

Subscription price, one dollar per year. 

Entered as second-class matter, March 26, 1912, at the post office at Indian- 
apoHs, Ind., under the Act of March 3, 1879. 

Officers of the Alumni Association — President, Mrs. Jessie Christian Brown, 
'97; First Vice-President, William G. Irwin, '89; Second Vice-Presi- 
dent, Lieutenant Justus W. Paul, '15; Treasurer, Carl Van Winkle, '14. 

Secretary and Editor of the Butler Alumnal Quarterly — Kathariije M. Gray- 
don, '78. 



The Spires of Oxford 

I saw the spires of Oxford 

As I was passing" by, 
The gray spires of Oxford 

Against a pearl-gray sky. 
My heart was with the Oxford men 

Who went abroad to die. 

The years go fast in Oxford, 
The golden years and gay, 

The hoary colleges look down 
On careless boys at play. 

But when the bugles sounded war 
They put their games away. 

They left the peaceful river, 
The cricket-field, the quad, 

The shaven lawns of Oxford, 
To seek a bloody sod — 

They gave their merry youth away 
For country and for God. 

God rest you, happy gentlemen. 
Who laid your good lives down, 

Who took the khaki and the gun 
Instead of cap and gown. 

God bring you to a fairer place 
Than even Oxford town. 

— Winifred M. Letts. 



Induction of the Butler College Unit of the Students 
Army Training Corps Into the Federal 
Service, October 1, 1918 

Picture the old college building set in the autumn glory of its field, 
looking down upon serried rows of three hundred boys standing at 
attention ; at one side of the flagstaff Lieutenant Henry E. Dodd and 
Lieutenant W. Scott Harkins ; at the other side President Thomas 
Carr Howe, Mr. Hilton U. Brown, Mr. Demarchus C. Brown, Judge 
James L. Collins, while a semi-circular border several rows deep of 
students and alumni, of Civil War veterans and parents and friends 
outline the whole, and you have the scene of October L 

At 11 o'clock The Indianapolis News Newsboys' Band struck up 
the strains of the national hymn, and slowly the flag rose until at the 
top of the staff it flung itself to the breeze. Lieutenant Dodd 
stepped forward and said: 

"I have been sent here by the War Department as commanding 
officer of Butler College Students' Army Training Corps. You 
to-day have been sent here, or rather have volunteered to come 
here, to help swell the big army of the United States. We are going 
to lick the Hun by doing so. To-day in this country there are seven 
hundred and fifty colleges doing exacth^ the same thing at this 
time. I know that every one of you men here is in the right spirit, 
to become good officers and good soldiers. I know you are going to 
cooperate with the institution and with the military authority to 
make this unit one of the best in the State and in the country. 
I am here to see that you do so. Don't worry. Things will go along 
smoothly. 

"Now at this time I want you to stand at attention while I read 
the oath to the flag, and as I read and stop you will repeat what I 
have said. Remember, this is a very solemn obligation. Probably 
you will never forget it : 

" T pledge allegiance to my flag and the Republic for which it 
stands ; one Nation, ir.divisible, with Liberty and Justice for all.' 



190 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

"Now, attention to the Orders of the War Department, the Sec- 
retary of War and General March." 

The "Orders" were read by Lieutenant Harkins : 

"message of the president of the united states to the stu- 
dents' ARMY training CORPS 

"The step you have taken is a most significant one. By it you 
have ceased to be merely individuals, each seeking to perfect him- 
self to win his own place in the world, and have become comrades 
in the common cause of making the world a better place to live in. 
You have joined yourselves with the entire manhood of the country 
and pledged, as did your fathers, 'your lives, your fortunes, and 
your sacred honor' to the freedom of humanity. 

"The enterprise upon which you have embarked is a hazardous 
and difficult one. This is not a war of words ; this is not a schol- 
astic struggle. It is a war of ideals, yet fought with all the devices 
of science and with the power of machines. To succeed you must 
not only be inspired with the ideals for which this country stands, 
but you must also be masters of the technique with which the battle 
is fought. You must not only be thrilled with zeal for the common 
welfare, but you must also be masters of the weapons of to-day. 

"There can be no doubt of the issue. The spirit that is revealed 
and the manner in which America has responded to the call are in- 
domitable. I have no doubt that you will use your utmost strength 
to maintain that spirit and to carry it forward to the final victory 
that will certainly be ours. Woodrow Wilson." 

"message of HON. BENEDICT CROWELL, ACTING SECRETARY OF WAR 

"As college students you are accustomed to contests of physical 
force. You are familiar with the tedious training and self-sacri- 
ficing discipline that are required to develop a team that can win the 
game. You know that the contest is won by teamwork, push, co- 
operation with one another and coordination of every individual 
talent to the single purpose of common success. 

"In the military struggle in which you are about to enter, the same 
conditions prevail. In order to succeed, many weeks of thorough- 
going training and drill are essential to develop the coordination of 



Induction Day 1^1 

skill and imagination that are essential to achieving the vast and 
vital end to which the country has pledged its every effort. The 
fighting machine will come into effective working order more rap- 
idly in proportion as each individual in it devotes his full attention 
to the particular service for which he is best qualified. In entering 
upon this training as student-soldiers you have the opportunity of 
developing your abilities to the point where they will be most effec- 
tive in the common struggle. I am sure that you will do this in the 
same spirit and with the same enthusiasm that you have always ex- 
hibited in the lesser struggles to which you have been accustomed to 
devote your energies. I am sure that you will rise to this oppor- 
tunity and show that America, the home of the pioneer, the inventor, 
and the master of machines, is ready and able to turn her every 
energy to the construction of an all-powerful military machine, 
which will prove as effective in liberating men as have the reaper, 
the aeroplane, and the telephone." 

"message of general march, chief of staff 

"The Students' Army Training Corps has been organized to as- 
sist in training a body of men from whom the United States will 
draw officer material in large numbers. The need for these officers 
is one of the most imperative connected with our large army pro- 
gram, and patriotic young men -will be given an opportunity to ac- 
quire this training with the knowledge that they will thus be en- 
abled better to serve their country in the great drive which is to 
come. Superior leadership spells success in war, and it is the duty 
of every member of the Students' Army Training Corps to do his 
utmost to qualify as a leader of men." 

President Howe then addressed tne Unit as follows : 
"Members of Butler College Students' Army Training Corps — 
young gentlemen — we are here to-day to win the war. It is not our 
fault that there is a vv^ar to be won. That job has been thrust upon 
us. If this republic is to last, if everything that our fathers have 
cherished and held most dear, if the things that your grandfathers 
fought for and perhaps died for, are to continue to endure, this v.-ar 
must be won. German}^ and the things that Germany stands for, as 
she is to-day, cannot continue on this globe in peace with the things 



192 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

that this nation and the Entente Allies stand for ; and it has come at 
last to a showdown, and Ave are winning the war; but we are still, 
perhaps, a considerable way from the end. 

"Now, you men to-day, and all of us here to-day, are taking part 
in something that has been an event the like of which has not hap- 
pened before in the history of mankind. This is the greatest repub- 
lic the world has ever known, greatest in resources, in population, 
and in ideals, and the time has come when we have to exert ourself 
to our utmost to preserve our very existence ; and you — think of it, 
fellows — you men here have the imperishable honor of being called 
upon to take a star part in that immortal performance. Never be- 
fore have the citizens, the young citizens just coming into activity 
as you are, had a chance to come up in this fashion and take part in 
the greatest endeavor of which mankind can be capable. I con- 
gratulate every one of you that you are here this morning, and — 
think of it— as the Lieutenant has put it, reading the Orders from 
Washington, you are a part of a great army of men, perhaps from 
a hundred and fifty to two hundred thousand, all over this country, 
doing the same thing. Is patriotism dead? No. It never was more 
alive in the world than it is to-day. And you men here, whether you 
live long or whether you live a short time, are going to look upon 
the step you have taken to-day as the proudest thing you have done 
in your life ; and if it is given you to live long years and your heads 
become hoary with honor, this day will look brighter and brighter 
to you, when you stepped out and took your part on the side of 
everlasting justice, to help your republic establish that in the world. 

"Now, young men, just one word — I am not here to talk long to 
you ; there are others who will have something to say to you — I hope 
that this college is in this job to win the war- — and it has been since 
the war began — with all its might. The commanding officer comes 
here because we desired him to come here. We chose to be a part 
of this thing. This is not a double-headed jurisdiction. We are 
one. You are under the jurisdiction of the commanding officer; 
you are also under the jurisdiction of the college. Neither consid- 
ers itself better than the other. We are all committed to the same 
task, and we are going to bend every effort, gentlemen, to do the 
thing right ; so that when the end of this war comes we may go out 



Induction Day 193 

and see the boys and greet them as they come marching home from 
victory, when they have put Germany where she belongs. 

"Now, my friends, I am going to ask Mr. Hilton U. Brown, 
president of the Board of Directors, to say a word to you ; and after 
him Professor Demarchus C. Brown, his brother, who for twenty- 
five years or more, was one of our honored professors, and now 
State Librarian ; and following him we Vv^ill have a few words from 
Judge James A. Collins, a man known throughout the length and 
breadth of this country for his efforts for the welfare of mankind. 
These men will say a few words in their order, without further in- 
troduction." 

Mr. Hilton U. Brown : 

"Gentlemen, I am here in behalf of the directors of Butler Col- 
lege to bid you welcome, and to extend the same hand which has 
power in it because it has love and affection back of it, and has 
already been extended by this institution in two other wars. Only 
a half-century ago nearly every man in the college was called to the 
front. Many of them never returned. Some returned, and some 
even are here, honored members of the Board of Directors to-day. 
Later others went into the Spanish-American war. Last year more 
than two hundred of the students of this institution enlisted for this 
great war; and now you come, already three hundred of you are 
enlisted in this corps, and more are following. Three hundred men 
at Sparta held the pass against the enemy. Three hundred such 
men as you can work such wonders as my feeble tongue cannot de- 
scribe. The Government has seen fit to appeal to the colleges, 
through this gentleman in uniform, to give their great service in this 
immortal period, the world's crisis. There is not the slightest lin- 
gering doubt in the minds of any of you, nor of us, nor of these 
friends who are here, that you will render the kind of service that 
the United States expects you to render, and which tliose who are 
'over there,' and whose reverberating guns you can almost hear this 
very moment, have rendered. Already at least five. of those who 
went out from these halls last year have paid the full tribute of their 
patriotism, and scores of others are in hospitals and we know not 
where; but we know that their service is a hundred per cent., as 
yours will be. 



194 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

"As the president said, we congratulate you. Yours is the oppor- 
tunity of all times ; and we not only congratulate you, but in behalf 
of this institution we pledge to this Government all its resources; 
and we back that with its history and its honored traditions. We 
bid you Godspeed." 

Mr. Demarchus C. Brown : 

"I deem it a great honor, gentlemen, to stand in the presence of 
young men, to face the youth who are so rf " dy to do the work of 
the world. And youth is a wonderful thin§ We think of its joy 
and its vitality, of its willingness to play, of i\.s willingness to work, 
of the fact that it is the beginning of things ; and so we deem it a 
great honor to stand in the presence of young men, and of young 
women, too, willing to give their service to the country. We honor 
your fidelity. We honor your willingness to go into life's tremen- 
dous struggle. But now comes a different call from anything you 
have ever had before. You are not now called to the ordinary duties 
of life, but to serious training, training that will lead you to face 
death and to face it rightly, and we have no doubt that you will. 

"You know we always look upon the Government as something 
to help us, as the means of our protection, as our security, as some- 
thing that brings happiness, joy, and content; and right that is, be- 
cause that is our idea of government. But now comes the reverse. 
The Government says, 'I want you to give that up; I want you to 
come and help.' And why is this? What is the reason that we are 
now turning about face, and are going ourselves into this serious 
work? It is because conditions have changed; because this protec- 
tor of yours has been attacked when about its peaceful duties; be- 
cause the lives of your friends, of your fathers and mothers, if at 
sea, have not been in safety; because the Government has tried to 
keep a fair neutrality and has failed because of the rutlilessness of 
others. These are the reasons that the conditions are now changed. 
Another reason is that a foreign government, through its officials, 
has planned against our security. It is not worth while to mention 
the fact that the German Foreign Secretary laid plans for an at- 
tack upon this country through Mexico. It is not worth while to 
comment seriously now upon the fact that the Embassador of Ger- 
many, while in our own land, supposedly an officer of peace, was 



Induction Day 195 

planning against our own safety. These are the reasons now why 
the reverse has come about, and it is your business and my business, 
and the business of all of us, to help to the very best of our ability, 
if necessary to lay down our lives. 

"These, I maintain, young men, are good reasons why you should 
stand here in the presence of the flag and in the presence of these 
Government officers and take the mighty oath that you have taken. 
It is a great thing to think that you are now, soon possibly, so far 
as we know, to go to the battle front. We read in history of the 
Crusade to preserve the Holy Land, but what sort of a crusade is 
this? Not merely to preserve the land of Palestine. Not merely 
to preserve in a great way a small section of land, of territory in 
Asia. But to protect the ideal of the Holy Land, the ideal of jus- 
tice, which is far greater than the other. To protect women and 
children who have been ruthlessly slaughtered. To protect the 
great ideas of justice which we all love so deeply and so profoundly. 
What a mighty crusade that is. How many hundreds and thousands 
are willing to cross the mighty ocean that these ideals may be pre- 
served. In such a crusade you and a good portion of the youth of 
this land and of this community are ready to go at once to preserve 
these ideals, and I have therefore only a few words to say. 

*T take off my hat to you. I salute you on all occasions. We re- 
joice in your vigor, Vv^e rejoice in your vitality, we rejoice in your 
glorious youth, and we salute you here on this campus. We deem it 
a mighty honor that we can stand uncovered, not merely before this 
flag, but uncovered in your presence, because in you are tied up our 
feelings of patriotism ; in you are bound up our love ; in you are 
bound up our honor; and in behalf of this community, in behalf of 
this college, in behalf of these people standing here I rejoice, and I 
salute you with all honor." 

Judge James A. Collins : 

"President Howe, members of the faculty, and officers and mem- 
bers of the Students' Army Training Corps, soldiers of the great- 
est republic in the world, I greet you. 

"Mr. Hilton U. Brown and Professor Brown have both presented 
to you the thought of the wonderful transformation that comes to 
this collegiate institution in the thing that is making history to-day, 



196 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

the establishment in more than five hundred colleges of these stu- 
dents' training corps. That transformation has come about because 
of the tremendous struggle that is now going on across the sea. 

"When the Hague Peace Conference met a few years ago, repre- 
senting as it did the most advanced thought of civilization, it set up 
a new standard ; and it seemed as though all disputes and difficulties 
between nations, as those between individuals, would be settled in 
courts of arbitration, and the blood of men would never flow again 
on the field of battle. Nineteen fourteen saw the dreams and hopes 
of civilization blasted by Germany's declaration of war. Like a 
bolt of lightning from a clear sky, that evil empire turned loose the 
dogs of war and all Europe staggered. 

"We were a lawful country and a peaceable country. We had 
no part in their disputes or differences. It was a matter of utter 
indifference to us who sat upon the throne of Servia. We believed, 
and we had a right to believe, that Germany could not and would 
not involve us in this struggle. Optimistic and satisfied, we pro- 
ceeded on the even tenor of our way. Great was our surprise, how- 
ever, when we learned that the ocean, the mighty highway of the 
world, was to be made the battlefield for the submarine. Accepted 
as an idle threat, it proved a stern reality when the cable flashed its 
awful message that the Lusitania had been sunk to the bottom by 
the German pirates of the sea; and the awful toll of women and 
children sent to their death without warning and without oppor- 
tunity to escape shocked the civilized world. From that moment 
it became our war. Diplomacy and the fine arts of the diplomat 
could never right that wrong. The voices of those dear dead were 
stilled forever, and their tears mingled with the waters of the sea, 
but their spirits cried aloud for revenge against that inhuman mon- 
ster, the outlaw of the ages. War was inevitable. No nation, how- 
ever peaceful and loving, could avoid a conflict that involved its own 
existence. 

"Beginning with the rape of Belgium, Germany has written the 
bloodiest chapters in all history; and if the mind could conceive of 
a combination of all the cruelties of all the rulers of all the king- 
doms, ancient and modern, the terrible savagery of the Indian, the 
ferocity of the South Sea Islander, the atrocities of the unspeakable 



Induction Day 197 

Turk and the savage Zulu, we would have then some conception of 
what the HohenzoUern family means by war. Waging war under a 
code that they substituted for the legalized measures of warfare, 
rape, murder, plunder, and arson followed in the wake of her vic- 
torious troops. Waging war under a code that assaulted little chil- 
dren and wounded the tender babe at its mother's breast, that as- 
saulted and murdered the aged and infirm, that plundered churches 
and gassed hospitals, that wantonly destroyed everything and left 
everything a waste ; a code that crippled and deformed and blinded 
its victims ; a code so complete in its comprehension of barbarism 
and murder that his satanic majesty must have blushed for shame. 
And right then we were forced to meet this titanic struggle ; and in 
defending our own right we shall fight for the things that stand for 
pure democracy, for the right of all people to have a voice in their 
own government, for the right and liberty of all nations to do the 
things which may achieve a just and lasting peace among ourselves 
and all nations. 

"As President Wilson has well said, to such a task we can dedi- 
cate our lives and our fortunes, everything that we are and every- 
thing that we have, with pride in the knowledge that the day has 
come when America is privileged to spend her blood and her might 
for the principles that gave her birth and happiness and a peace 
which she has treasured. God helping her, she can do no other. The 
cruel barbarism of this gigantic struggle is the destruction of human 
liberty and the restoration in the conquered territory of the ancient 
paganism of the Hun. At this very hour every single town and 
province under the dominion of the German armies is controlled, 
and under her terms of peace will be controlled forever, by Ger- 
many. Should she emerge from this struggle carrying out this 
plan and dream of hers of a Mitteleuropa, Belgium, Poland, Rus- 
sia, Roumania, and Servia, controlling as she does one million one 
hundred and twenty-one thousand square miles of territory, with 
one hundred and eighty-seven millions of people under the sway of 
her brutal policy of force, the hopes of democracy would be blasted 
for centuries to come. The only way to save the world from tlie 
menace of Prussian aggression, to make democracy safe, is to win 
the war ; and America is going to win the war. Upon the shoulders of 



198 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

our citizenship is now placed the burden of the struggle and we have 
to assume it firmly, believing that with the aid of Almighty God 
democracy will have a new birth of freedom that will sweep from 
every throne every titled tyrant in Europe. 

"Our entrance into this mighty struggle has brought to desolated 
Europe hope and inspiration. In the rising tide of democracy the 
allied nations see the radiant dawn of a new day dispelling the 
clouds of hate and revenge, and shedding the sunlight of civilization 
and Christianity for the social regeneration of mankind throughout 
the world. 

"Gigantic as the task is, America will never be found wanting. 
Our angels of mercy with the badge of the Red Cross are to be 
found in every stricken town and city in Europe. We are minister- 
ing to the wants of the unfortunate and teaching the immortal les- 
son that no man liveth to himself alone. Our treasure is being 
poured out to the sick and wounded and is providing food for the 
hungry and clothing for the naked. Humanitarianism has ever been 
a cardinal principle of democracy, and in this colossal struggle be- 
tween autocracy and democracy, between Christianity and German 
'Kultur,' there must be no failure on our part. The success of the 
German armies would erase from history the scroll of Bunker Hill, 
Valley Forge, and Gettysburg. Aye, it would wipe out the fame of 
Washington and Lincoln ; and more than that, my friends, it would 
make the Lord's Prayer idle rhetoric, Gethsemane a farce, and Cal- 
vary a grim mockery. This nation of a hundred millions of people, 
with a wealth of two hundred and fifty billions of dollars, will not 
fail the world in this hour of need, nor will she permit the change 
of a single line of her glorious history. Who will say that tlie stars 
and stripes will not yet gild the horizon of the new century, and 
spread throughout a war-cursed and war-ridden Europe the spirit 
of human liberty. 

" 'Your flag and my flag ! 
And how it flies to-day 
In your land and my land 
And half a world away." 



The Chapel Talk on Opening Day 199 

"At this very hour our gallant boys 'over there,' under the leader- 
ship of Pershing and Bundy, are breaking the Hindenburg line and 
driving the Germans back over the line, and no power will stop 
them until they have planted the stars and stripes on the imperial 
palace in Berlin. 

"Oh, my young friends, this is a glorious privilege of yours, a 
glorious privilege for democracy; and as you and I read the mag- 
nificent history of the Anglo-Saxon race, the marvelous achieve- 
ment of democracy, and we recognize the glorious triumph of 
twenty centuries of the Gospel of Pity and Love, we are right in 
believing that the victory will not be to the Napoleons of the world, 
but to the men of brotherhood and peace. We see a militant Chris- 
tianity leading the vanguard of the nations 

" 'Till the war-drum throbb'd no longer, and the battle flags were 
furl'd 
In the Parliament of man, the Federation of the world.' " 



The Chapel Talk on Opening Day 

By President Thomas Carr Howe 

I want to say a few words to you this morning about college life. 
I congratulate you most sincerely upon having chosen to be in col- 
lege. I congratulate you upon a world situation that makes it neces- 
sary for a cry for help to go out from the heads of the nations to 
all of the young folks throughout the length and breadth of the 
world to concentrate their thoughts and their life activities upon 
the higher values, upon the higliest possible ideals that prevail 
among their respective peoples. Some of these peoples may of 
course be mistaken, as we are quite sure they are ; but I congratulate 
you upon the fact that the President of the United States and all of 
those in authority — governors, cabinet ministers — all alike — have 
called upon you that you should rally your forces in this unparal- 
Iclled emergency to the support of the great republic. I am very 



200 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

proud that I am spared to be here to-day in this world to witness 
this thing and to see how you, children of ours and of our fellows, 
are not deaf to the cry that goes out, that you see clearly, and that 
you are willing to consecrate your lives to a great ideal. 

I have tried to think of what I ought to say to you as college stu- 
dents, most of you to-day for the first time, and my mind has run 
back — you will pardon me for this bit of personal reminiscence — 
to the day, now thirty-four years ago, when I first set foot on these 
beloved grounds; how I as a boy just out of high school and by no 
means equipped as you all are, coming from your splendid schools 
of these days — how I came here with fear and trembling, seeking 
for something called an education, the meaning of which I did not 
know, but somehow I had been told that I ought to seek training to 
get ready to do something in the world. And I have tried to-day to 
think what it would have been that might have helped me most just 
then. Perhaps you are difTerent from what I was. I shall take a 
chance, however, that human beings are more or less alike the world 
over, or at least we in America are more or less alike the nation 
over. We are brought up more or less alike, barring of course some 
outstanding differences ; but in the main we are a good deal alike 
and we go through the same course, and I take it we have somewhat 
the same aspirations, the same fears and tremblings. I felt timid, 
but at least I put on a bold front and sustained myself as best I 
could, and I am thinking that many of you this morning have the 
same feeling — and I want to help the boy or the girl who needs 
help. If any one does not need the help that I can offer, I hope you 
may find it elsewhere. But I am thinking some of you may be at 
sea somewhat, and I want first of all to bring you this message — be 
of good cheer ; do not be downcast ; do not be discouraged. You 
have this great advantage I think over some of us who are older, 
that you have a somewhat more definite course marked out for you 
than we had. There was in those days no great crisis confronting 
this nation of ours. To-day we as a nation have just one thing to 
do, and that is to win the war ; to win the war because it is neces- 
sary ; to win the war, as was said yesterday, because we must do so 
if this nation is to continue under the liberties and blessings we have 
known and have grown to appreciate. And yet, with all those 



The Chapel Talk on Opening Day 201 

things, with the fact that many of you young men are entering col- 
lege and the service of the nation at the same time, and that is a 
fine thing, I suspect there may come times — not right now, but 
perhaps before long — when you will have doubts and discourage- 
ments. Again I say, we are not dififerent from others ; others have 
passed through like times. Take that young man there [pointing 
to the portrait of Joe Gordon] who spent his life in the struggle of 
1861-'65. Those fellows went out from these halls and other col- 
leges without the kind of preparation and training you are going to 
have for service when you go. You are going under much different 
conditions — and better conditions. So I want to urge you, be not 
at any time discouraged or cast down, for there is a good God who 
is ruling this world and who in His mysterious way is going to per- 
form His wonders and cause righteousness, with your help, to pre- 
vail. 

This is the first thing that I would have you keep in mind — do 
not be discouraged or cast down in any way ; do not in any way lose 
your self-respect; put a high value on j^our life. In time of war we 
think it is a period of destruction. I wonder if any of you read an 
estimate made a few days ago in connection with the discussion of 
this great Fourth Liberty Loan, of the great expenditures which 
we are making in these days and have made since we entered the 
combat. It was shown there that the greater part of the great funds 
raised and expended was a great investment in increased transpor- 
tation facilities, great docks and railroad systems, and numberless 
things that are needed in the development of this new form of civ- 
ilization which we see before us to-day. All of this is by no m^eans 
lost, and the many, many thousands of men, say those who are lay- 
ing down their lives on the battlefields, are not losing their lives. 
Ah, no ; thousands of these men, if they had stayed at home in hum- 
drum peace — and I am not praising war, God forbid — but it is a 
solemn fact that hundreds of thousands of those men. if tliey had 
stayed at home, would have lost their lives. Some men are finding 
their lives to-day because of the great opportunity for high endeavor 
and for great investment of self — greater than has ever before hap- 
pened in the history of the world. So while it is a terrible fact that 
it has taken a war to do this, it is not all a time of waste. 



202 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Your life to-day has a higher value, girls and boys, than it has 
ever had in the history of mankind. You are more precious to-day, 
and particularly you with the free, red blood of America coursing 
in your veins, because America must come out of this war as a 
leader of the world's forces ; she must come out as a leader in Chris- 
tian activities ; she must come out as a leader in social betterment ; 
she must come out a leader in the education of her folk; she must 
come out a leader in finance, as she is now. And it is to you boys 
and girls that the nation, and not the nation alone but the world, is 
looking to supply this leadership. You do not know where you are 
going or what you are going to become. I heard the other day of a 
boy whom I have not seen since he sat before me in my classes as a 
student in Harvard University, twenty years ago this fall. He was 
a good, solid, honest student. I have heard of him now and then, 
how he had gone from the university, after completing his course 
and taking his doctor's degree, to become professor in Dartmouth 
College. Four or five days ago one of our boys in Washington told 
me that this lad, now a man with gray hairs, is the private secretary 
of the Chief of Staff of the United States Army; he is the first one 
to get the news that comes across the cables of the movements of 
our soldiers ; he makes the maps in accord with these reports and 
furnishes them to the General Staff and upon this they can base 
their calculations as to further movements of the troops. 

You do not know what you will be called to do. That is a tre- 
mendously responsible place, and you are called to respect the God- 
given thing you contain — human life in its finest form, and here to 
start or to continue the best development of it so that you may fill 
your place, if not to-day or to-morrow, in the years that are to come. 

Again an example. There is working in Washington, and there 
has been for years, a man whose name perhaps you know and that 
is about all. He was born in humble circumstances out in Missouri 
in an adjoining county to the general in command of the United 
States troops in France. These two boys have had a somewhat sim- 
ilar course of development, but this man in particular came to be 
a student in Harvard. In connection with his military work he 
studied law and graduated from a law school at one of the Western 
universities. He was particularly interested in military law, and 



The Chapel Talk on Opening Day 203 

when the word came to raise an army in this nation— and we know 
now full well that you cannot send out a cry and have, as a former 
Secretary of State eloquently said, "a million men spring to arms" 
in any effective way. That does not happen in these days when war 
is a thing of brains. When this nation was faced with the problem 
of finding the troops to go into the breach and save France, bled 
almost white, and England, striving her utmost — how was this to 
be done ? It was evident that the volunteer system was inadequate ; 
there had to be a draft, although the idea was repugnant at first. 
But when that thing was decided this boy was ready with the infor- 
mation, the technical knowledge, to arrange the draft that came 
last year and the draft under which you fellows have registered. I 
refer to General Crowder. That man is one of the big men in the 
world to-day because he has helped by his knowledge, acquired by 
long, hard study and use of the midnight oil, coming forward when 
he was needed and giving to the entire world a superb example of 
efficiency that an efficient nation had not dreamed of. And he gave 
us a chance to keep military and civilian men together so that we 
do not have one class arrayed against the other. There have been 
no draft riots here as there were in the time of the Rebellion ; there 
have been no disturbances worth mentioning, and that is due to the 
fact that there was a boy who gave himself to a particular Hne of 
study and equipped himself, and when the time and the emergency 
came he stepped forth and put us right. Is not that a great thing? 
And yet it is only one example of thousands we are seeing all about 
us in these days of the man who is ready. But, my young friends, 
that readiness does not come over night. It comes because the boy 
or the girl has gone through the schools, the grade school and the 
high school — and you have done exceedingly well that you are as 
well equipped as you are — and then have been willing to go beyond 
that and train themselves to the utmost so that they can serve the 
best. 

And so while I exhort you not to be discouraged and downcast, I 
also say respect yourselves, respect the life that is within you. 
Many of you just now do not appreciate, the meaning of that, but 
remember that great issues depend often upon small matters. There 
have been a number oi times in this war when the simple turning 



204 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

of a hand would have won the war one way or another. You know 
the story, do you not, about the EngHsh fleet that failed to take 
Constantinople? If you do not you should read it. You know 
about the battle of the Marne and how it was won, and why in a 
number of instances the Germans have failed because of some in- 
significant circumstance, apparently, which the opposing side took 
advantage of. And so no one of you dares to disregard the talents 
that are within you. It is your duty, as never before in the lives of 
any of us, that you should have that self-respect that will make you 
insist upon, in the first place, not wasting a particle of your physical 
energy. Do not misunderstand me. You dare not waste a particle 
of your physical energy. We must win this war, and it may take 
that bit of energy you waste, in an idle moment, to win the war. 
Do you think that is putting it extremely ? Oh, no, it is not ; because 
the lack of that may make you fail when you are called to the test 
that will win or lose. You dare not neglect any opportunity that is 
given you for intellectual equipment or discipline. I wish you men 
and women could see all of the letters that come to us from the boys 
across yonder, fellows who were careless here, we thought, but who 
in the face of that awful crisis have grown into men, and they 
write back to us, "For God's sake, train yourselves. Tell the boys 
and girls back home to train themselves." A few days ago we had 
a letter from a boy who was with us last year. He has two soldier 
brothers over there. He wrote back and said that he was afraid I 
might read his letter in chapel. (I think he wanted me to read it 
and I am going to one of these days). And then he sent his love to 
a number of members of the faculty and asked me to break it 
gently. I have not had the time or courage to undertake the task 
yet. But he said, "You cannot tell the fellows back there too much 
about training their minds. Tell them to study hard." And he was 
ehe sort of a fellow that did not like to be told that. He went on, 
"If this war is over next summer when school is open, you can bet 
your boots I will be there." 

One of the most eloquent sermons I have ever heard about that 
thing came from one of our boys who had been in college a com- 
paratively short time, speaking of this being a war of brains and 
the need for training. He was back here a few days ago — a major 



The Chapel Talk on Opening Day 205 

now, think of it ! — and he emphasized the same thing — train your 
minds and equip yourselves. And while you take care of your 
bodies and preserve your energy and make use of every bit of op- 
portunity you can get to study and to learn for the war and for 
what is coming after the war, because that will be the big time, 
after the war — do not forget that you owe a great debt, a great 
obligation to think of the spiritual side, because without that side 
the physical part and the intellectual part have no value ; they are 
as nothing. So do not forget, men and women, to respect your- 
selves, to respect the life that is within you, and remember that it is 
more precious than ever before in the world — and to train your- 
selves in body, equip yourselves in mind, and to do all you can to 
train yourselves spiritually. We are just beginning to see along the 
horizon the first rays of the sun of a new age, and I tell you I con- 
gratulate you with all my heart that you are going forth to walk in 
the splendor of the noonday of the new time when that sun has 
more fully risen. And it will be your part, as never has it been be- 
fore, to help build the nation — listen well to this — to help preserve 
its liberty and to see that Prussianism does not get a hold upon us, 
that we are in no way infected by it because we have had to meet 
it and fight it. 

Now you have come to college to be with us, some for a long time 
and some for a short time. The college welcomes you, and I wish 
I had time — as I have not — to say the things that are in my mind 
of the part the college — the college which had its beginnings over 
there on the eastern coast of this country in 1636 when the first 
college was founded — how that college plant has grown and grown 
until it is the men who have come out from these colleges with their 
training who will beat down and drive back the foes of light and 
freedom, because it is the college men that will do the job and that 
are doing it. The college has a great share and must ever have a 
great share in the work of civilization. 

My mind has gone back this morning to what the college offers to 
us. These words were written by a great soul long before this war 
began, but they are true words and perhaps some of you have not 
heard them so I will read them to you this morning, with the hope 
that you will carry a part of them with you. This is the offer of 



206 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

the college to men and women : "To be at home in all lands and all 
ages ; to count Nature a familiar acquaintance and Art an intimate 
friend; to gain a standard for the appreciation of the other man's 
work and the criticism of your own ; to carry the keys of the world's 
library in your pocket and feel its resources behind you in whatever 
task you undertake ; to make hosts of friends among men of your 
own age who are to be leaders in all walks of life; to lose yourself 
in generous enthusiasm and cooperate with others for common 
ends ; to learn manners from students who are gentlemen, and form 
character under professors who are Christians. This is the offer 
of the college for the best four years of your life," and, because of 
the changed conditions, I add, "for whatever time you may have to 
spend there." 

There is much in my mind that might be said, but there is one 
word I want to read to you, a chapter that we love better than any 
other chapter in any book in the world. And remember at all times, 
though we hear much about hate and songs of hate in these days, 
that after all the biggest thing in the world these days is not hate, 
and we are learning that fact more than ever before — it is love, and 
so I want to read to you, in concluding these remarks, this chapter, 
which is the finest thing that has ever been written or spoken about 
it, so far as we know, by any man : 

"Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and 
have not love, I am become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. 

"And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all 
mysteries, and all knowledge ; and though I have all faith, so that I 
could remove mountains, and have not love, I am nothing. 

"And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though 
I give my body to be burned, and have not love, it profiteth me noth- 
ing. 

"Love suffereth long and is kind; love envieth not; love vaunteth 
not itself, is not puffed up, 

"Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not 
easily provoked, thinketh no evil ; 

"Rejoiceth n.ot in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; 

"Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, en- 
dureth all things. 



Fog 207 

"Love never faileth : but whether there be prophecies, they shall 
fail ; whether there be tongues, they shall cease ; whether there be 
knowledge, it shall vanish away. 

"For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. 

"But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in 
part shall be done away. 

"When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, 
I thought as a child ; but when I became a man, I put away childish 
things. 

"For now we see through a glass, darkly ; but then face to face ; 
now I know in part ; but then shall I know even as also I am known. 

"And now abideth faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest 
of these is love." 



Fog 

By P. W. W., '14. 

First experiences in the air are still unusual enough to have a 
romantic touch for the popular mind. Although much of what has 
been written about aviation has been overdone, in an effort to in- 
crease the already too obvious halo of sentimental adulation, the 
fact remains that a novice in the flying game does get peculiar 
thrills. He gets these thrills in a way not possible to him later, 
when he has become habituated to his ship. The first flight, the 
first solo, his first loop and Immelmann — perhaps these are more 
exciting than any subsequent formation work or night flying. 
Knowledge takes the wonder away, and flying is too obviously a 
technical job which has to be done for any one to remain perma- 
nently sentimental about it. Even the high diver at a circus comes 
to lead a prosaic enough life; though he may not have candor 
enough to admit it ! But he can't deny an occasional thrill ; neither 
can an aviator. 

One of the most interesting of my experiences as a flying cadet 
had to do with a fog. I was returning from a spot forty miles dis- 
tant from the field one raw misty morning about eight o'clock. As 
I spiralled up from the ground I drew into a fog bank at an altitude 



208 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

of two thousand feet. On the way out I had remained below this 
mass of cloud, mentally resolving to go above it as I returned. So 
up I went, nose into the mist, as the world below disappeared. Rud- 
dering south by my compass, away from the field, I held the lub- 
ber's line on the S. It was gloomily dark, and raw vapor with a 
coarse edge to it stung my cheeks and choked my lungs. Water 
dripped from my wires, struts, and all trailing edges. I wiped my 
goggles repeatedly. I began, furthermore, to realize how much the 
flyer relies on that distant horizon when in the air; for, when I 
looked away from my compass, I began to circle. I could see noth- 
ing around me but a nebula of milky vapor. 

After a seemingly interminable period of struggle, the mist be- 
came softer and warmer. Gray changed to white, with an almost 
velvety feel. Suddenly I saw, not thirty feet away from me, an 
enormous ball of fire. Although startled, I headed straight at my 
old friend ; he couldn't be so terribly misplaced as he seemed ! And 
then I wallowed through the top of the cloud. 

The situation beggars description. I was level with the surface 
of a tossing celestial sea of billowy foam. As far as the eye could 
reach, nothing but cloud ! My old ship drew speedily up, even as an 
emerging Aphrodite, and revealed to me three mountain peaks in 
the distance. I recognized them as the highest points in Southern 
California. How squat they looked! Like little islands in an un- 
charted ocean. Above this richly barren landscape hung a sky of 
Russian blue. The contrast with the world below was intoxicating. 
The sun warmed with a positively familiar intimacy. I felt at 
home, although not another living being was in sight. 

The thrill overpowered me; I literally shouted with glee. My 
appreciation of nature had so far been heightened as to give me 
ecstacies. I dived down into the fog and back up into the heaven 
above in large "zooms." I pulled up a few hundred feet and nosed 
down for three sizzling loops w^th the power full on — even that 
didn't satisfy me ; I did a fourth one. The experience was most 
novel. As I looked down from the top of the loop, the cloud below 
gave me the weird sensation of falling upward — into the sky. So 
over and over I went, watching my shadow with its rainbow halo 
play on the bank of foam below. 

Wearying of the play I took up ray course home. Near tho hom« 



Compulsory Training 209 

field I nose-dived through the fog, out of the gorgeous upper air 
into the cold dank mist of the underworld. I landed with the feel- 
ing that I had experienced the classical "descent into Hades" ! 



Compulsory Training 

By Lieutenant Kenneth Victor Elliott, '20 

Died of wounds received '''on the field of honor'' 

The recent agitation in Butler College concerning the national 
crisis is an evidence of the most healthy state of mind which has 
existed here for years. The fact that we are considering seriously 
national and international affairs is a manifest that we have in our 
midst, not college boys and girls, but college men and women. The 
effect of the recent disputation upon the lethargic element of the 
institution is even more encouraging. It has made it think. 

We Americans must realize that we are not only playing a part in 
a world crisis, but that we have arrived at a national crisis of our 
own. The supreme test of a democracy, as a practical form of gov- 
ernment, is before us. Have all our wars been but blood-drunken 
orgies? Did the heroes of Valley Forge die in vain? Did Wash- 
ington, Franklin, and Patrick Henry pursue a will-o'-the-wisp ? We, 
their descendants, are called upon to confirm or repudiate them. 
We must prove that individual comfort in a democracy does not 
jeopardize national ideals. 

Until recently, Europeans symbolized America with liberty, free- 
dom, and democracy. To-day they do worse than condemn us — 
they pity us. Just imagine an American abroad, once regarded as 
an adventurous cavalier of a free and virile country, being pitied 
because he is an American. Will patriotic sentiment be allowed to 
sit neglected and despondent by a cold hearthstone? Shall we allow 
prestige, clad in the frayed and faded raiments of a bygone age, to 
pass down the dusty road to history? God grant that we shall not. 
Some may say that in our golden might we can ignore foreign opin- 
ion; but we cannot, for the opinions of foreign nations, which are 
not enemies, are "contemporaneous history." 



210 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

The resolution favoring universal training, which was adopted by 
a large majority of the male students, is a worthy expression of But- 
ler's stand in the present situation, but that it was opposed by an 
obviously sincere and thoughtful minority is regrettable. Perhaps 
the exact purport of the resolution was misunderstood. The resolu- 
tion advocated universal training — not proscription— and there is a 
vast difference. 

Universal training is simply an intelligent preparation for what 
is at our national threshold. To advocate it is but an expression of 
willingness materially to support our commander-in-chief, our 
President. 

It is contended that universal training is undemocratic. It is not. 
Under a voluntary system do you think it democratic when an en- 
thusiastic bricklayer trains while an effete butterfly dances ? Should 
a struggling student learn military tactics while a corpulent capi- 
talist practices monetary tactics? No. Universal training is es- 
sentially and absolutely democratic. It includes rich and poor, high 
and low. Switzerland, probably the most democratic nation in the 
world, has had universal training for years, and, as a result, can 
turn out as high a percentage of trained men as tyrannized and mil- 
itaristic Germany. Australia, undoubtedly the most democratic 
commonwealth of any kingdom, has adopted in a modified form the 
Swiss system of universal training, which is neither inconvenient 
nor oppressive. 

Therefore, let us support this resolution as a unit. You, Butler 
student, are no longer an irresponsible child. You are an important 
citizen of a great republic and you dare not shirk your duty to it. 
You are the beneficiary of a long and righteous rebellion, and you 
must keep the faith of its instigators. The nation is a seething ele- 
ment in a g}Tating world, and you are one of its trembling atoms. 

Theological students who opposed the issue, if you wotild gain a 
seat on the golden stair, prepare to help exterminate that spirit in 
Germany which uses the decalogue as a blotter for its treacherous 
notes and indulges in all the felonies of the criminal category. The 
gun is the most expressive commentary on the Bible. 

Students of Butler, let us recall that resolution and make its 
adoption unanimous. Let the esprit de corps of Butler be liberty, 
loyalty, and love of country. 



From Our Soldier Boys 

'" Tis God' s voice calls ; how could I stay?'' 

Sergeant B. Wallace Lewis, '16, Camp Funston. My civilian 
life is a past dream. In the short time I've been in the army I have 
so absorbed the military that really I am military to the core. The 
soldier is different from other people — he dresses differently, talks 
and acts differently, and thinks differently. The most serious eco- 
nomic questions bother him little ; art, music, love, are a closed book 
with us until . 

You asked me if this vv^as a popular war. Emphatically Yes. 
There are about 25,000 men here (over 75,000 have been sent out of 
this camp since last fall), and I believe there aren't over ten men in 
camp who aren't r'arin' to go. Our battalion is composed of volun- 
teers entirely — -rich men, college men, poor men, roughnecks, but all 
volunteers. Our morale is not a bit better than theirs. The spirit of 
this army is wonderful. For illustration: 

The other day we received an order from the War Department 
calling eight of our men for immediate oversea duty. They all went 
up to the medical officer for a special final examination. When they 
came back we could hear them one-quarter of a mile away yelling 
like fiends, and running and whistling; that is, six of them. Two 
were turned down and one of them cried like a baby. The other was 
terribly downcast. Now those men (the six of them) were going 
at once into the nearest approach to Hell this world has ever seen. 
They howled for joy. You can't beat an army that oft'ers its life 
with a yell of joy. 

To-morrow morning our battalion (456 men) marches down to the 
train and embarks for an unknown destination. W^e only know that 
we are going near the Gulf. Three months will see us at the latest 
among the men of the American Expeditionary Force, General Per- 
shing in command. By the time you receive this, we will be way 
down South, God knows where — we don't care. Uncle Sam takes 
care of his sons. 

I have had the good fortune to be made a corporal. One hundred 



212 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

seventy-five volunteers entered the battalion at the same time I did. 
Six were made first-class privates and I was made a corporal. I feel 
a little pride in the achievement, in that promotions are few and far 
between in the Signal Corps. We have college men in our company 
who have been here since November and are still privates. 

I could tell you all about camp life, if I had a ream of paper and 
a month of time. It is intensely interesting and healthy. I have 
gained eight pounds, can hike with the best of them, can eat like a 
hog, and can sleep like a log. There's nothing like the army as a 
physical developer. 

There is one great problem worrying the army. We know we are 
all right, that we are in this thing to tlie bitter end. What we are 
afraid of is that the civilian population will wear out, will tire of the 
war before we get it won. W^e are afraid the American people 
haven't the nerve stamina for a long war — and it will be a long war. 
They may tire of eating fish and cornbread, of wearing old clothes 
and buying Liberty Bonds. They may feel that they are called on 
for too great sacrifices. We are offering our lives gladly. If they 
are as game as we are, there is no question of the ultimate result. 
Without their cooperation the thing will fall through with inglor- 
iously. 

I wouldn't trade this uniform and the chevrons on it for anything 
in the world. It is a rare privilege to be one small cog in Uncle 
Sam's citizen army. I hope I come back; but, if worst comes to 
worst, I'm game. 

Camp Stanley, Texas — It is with pleasure I accept your congratu- 
lations for my trifling achievement. However, I am about as far as 
I shall ever get in this branch of the service. The Signal Corps, es- 
pecially the radio end of it, in which I am, is notoriously hard to get 
anywhere in, as the work is extremely technical and demands elec- 
trical engineering ability of a high degree. Besides, only the super- 
man and the fool for luck ever rise from the ranks to a commission, 
I wouldn't want to be picked for a commission, because that would 
necessitate going to a training camp for at least three months and I 
don't want to waste that amount of time from active service. No, a 
sergeant's warrant is as high as I aspire. The sergeant is the most 
important man in the whole army, after the generals. He is the 



From Our Soldier Boys 213 

connecting link between the officers who plan and the men who do. 
He is one of the men and his influence is greater than any officer's. 
If hard work will get me there, I will wear the three chevrons before 
the war is over. ♦ ♦ * 

Now to be serious. I think President Wilson has finally waked 
up, and is doing his best for the country, which is some best, too. I 
noted the appointment of the men you named with pleasure. How- 
ever, with all your respect and admiration for the big business man 
and his genius for organization, don't overlook the fact that the 
fighting man is after all the man who will lick Germany. His is the 
opportunity for the great sacrifice. It is he who bears the brunt of 
Germany's hate. * * * Never in my life did I see a single man 
animated with half the seriousness and nobility of purpose that char- 
acterized every man in the whole army. Never since I entered the 
service have I seen a single trace of heroics or grand-stand playing. 
It is every man for the good of the whole, whatever may happen to 
himself. We sometimes talk about what is coming to us, though not 
very often. There is no bombast or boast in any one, simply a quiet 
determination to do one's duty. I believe every man in our organi- 
zation is already a hero. There isn't a man in the company who 
wouldn't follow our captain through hell. That is the quiet and un- 
conscious effect of the wonderful discipline of this army. Army dis- 
cipline is the greatest moulder of character in the world. It is bet- 
ter than a college education. When I first came here the thought of 
subjecting my body and soul without recourse to the directions of 
my superior officers was repulsive to me. I was an extreme individ- 
ualist. Then I saw the light. It is only by submitting without ques- 
tion to my superiors that I achieve the greatest individuality. By 
conforming to discipline I reach the greatest ability to be of service. 
My power for good is increased by the giving up of my own direc- 
tion of myself. And the peculiar thing is that after a time the con- 
formity to discipline becomes a pleasure. The same thing is true of 
every man in the company. Being a vohmteer company, we have 
men from all walks of life. We have boys who left college to come 
to war, who left even high school. We have business men who gave 
up profitable businesses of their own. We have sons of the rich and 
of the poor. We have men from nineteen different States. All this 



214 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

in a company of sixty-two men. Now there is no distinction between 
them. The son of the woman who washed for the family of the 
rich man is now a sergeant over the scion of the wealthy ' house, 
who, a private, scrubs the kitchen floor. Funny ! When the war 
is over, the army is going to turn over to civil life thousands of 
the finest citizens in the world: men who have known what it is 
to sacrifice for another; men who have been taught by the 
school of hard experience to give the other fellow first considera- 
tion. The rejuvenation of America will come. Business and poli- 
tics both will be purified, because these men can't stand the taint 
of crookedness. They will have lived under conditions where such 
things would mean death to themselves and their comrades. They 
will have been taught by experience that the straight and narrow 
is the only path. Oh, I tell you, things are going to be great. 

The captain and I were talking yesterday and the talk switched 
around to home, which it will do every time when army men talk. 
They can't help it. Home is the greatest place on earth. When 
he spoke of his mother's death his eyes filled with tears. Imagine 
a man in civil life allowing himself such a display of emotion. A 
man would feel disgraced over such a thing, because a man is not 
supposed to have any feelings of that sort. You know man's 
habitual emotional restraint. In the army things are different. We 
are all together, we live a simpler and closer life than civil con- 
vention would permit. Our captain is an old soldier, somewhat 
hardened by years of campaigning; and yet, when he spoke of 
his mother his eyes filled with tears. What wouldn't a fellow do 
for a man so strong and gentle as that? Who was it said "the 
bravest are the tenderest, the loving are the true," or something 
to that effect? I believe it now. He is a born leader of men. He 
is stern and absolutely just. The men's respect for him is a queer 
mixture of love and fear, something like a religionist's feeling for 
God. He has an almost foolish pride in his men. We have in him. 
The most peaceful man in the company would fight his own brother, 
if he spoke ill of our "skipper." The captain would lick the colonel 
if he intimated that our company could be improved upon. Hon- 
estly, now, can such an army be beaten? 

I am writing this while on duty, in the intervals when not busy; 



From Our Soldier Boys 215 

so it is probably incoherent, disconnected, trite, tautologous, verbose, 
ununified, wordy, dry, stale, and what not. That, however, will 
not be accepted as an excuse for you to do any less than your best 
in reply. Write me another good old Butleresque dissertation. 

Corporal William E. Hacker, '16: We've been over the top. 
We were relieved yesterday after several days' action, and on one 
of these days, or rather nights, we led off an attack in cooperation 
with the tanks and went "over the top." We helped start the Huns 
on the run, and they're still running. French cavalry started after 
them after the units with which we were working were given re- 
lief, so it's said, rode at a gallop for twelve kilometers before they 
found the dirty Huns. I can't begin to describe it all ; it's too big 
a story — too cruel, too full of pathos, suffering, wonder, thrills, 
bravery, sacrifice, horror. Yet it's a nightly experience, one that 
calls for every fibre of manhood that's in a man, and shows up 
every atom of cowardice. We came out of that attack with fewer 
men than we went in with, who, though tired, hungry, torn, and 
dirty, were unbroken in spirit. One would hardly imagine a man 
could be calm under such circumstances, but he is^at least that 
was my experience. Fears of death are dispelled and, somehow 
or other, dogged determination to see it through or die in the at- 
tempt takes the place of everything. 

I've lived a thousand years in the last few days. I've seen enough 
already to repay me for my several months of training and all. One 
can't realize what a vast machine this military business is. The 
roads, which by the way are all wonderfully good, except for occa- 
sional holes, are busy with continuous streams, one moving each 
way, every minute of the day and night — ammunition trains, am- 
bulances, troops, supply wagons. The villages through this sector 
are mostly ruins, the fields blotched with shell holes, every hill with 
a series of dugouts or trenches, the ground yellow in many places 
where the dreaded mustard or yellow cross gas shells have struck. 
But we don't call it "No-Man's Land" any more. It's France, and 
France it will be, for the Germans are meeting their W^aterloo now. 
They hate the Americans worst of all. They call us "hell dogs," 
and it's the Americans, more than any, they're scared of. I think 



216 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

the Yanks have put some pep in the "Blue Devils," the French, for 
they are fighting as they never fought before. Their most common 
greeting for the Americans is "Boche Finis" — the Germans are 
being finished — and we believe they are. You might believe this 
as strongly as we do if you would see some of the prisoners, how 
starved and poorly dressed they look, how glad they are to be pris- 
oners and get good meals and rest. They are crying "Kamerad" 
by the hundreds, their hands thrown up as the Americans advance 
on them. Then, if you had seen German women among these pris- 
oners who had been chained to machine guns and forced to fight, 
or boys thirteen or fourteen years old, and old men, you might 
think, too, it's "Boche Finis." 

But the Boches are still in the game and they're still putting up 
a deuce of a lot of fighting. The Americans don't mind the beggars 
in a hand-to-hand clash — they're easy pickin' then, but they do dread 
their big artillery barrages and their gas. I had the pleasure of 
wading through several of these barrages, jumping from shell hole 
to shell hole, and I got a taste of their gas, but not enough to affect 
me. I got mustard gas on my clothes, and had to cut most of my 
pants away to keep it from soaking through and burning my skin. 
I thought of every mean thing I ever did in my life during these 
few days, and repeated over, time and again, "The sins ye have 
committed two by two ye shall pay for one by one." 

Well, I've written more than the censor will ever let by now, 
although I don't feel as if I have said a thing. Give my regards 
to all my friends. 

Ralph Wilson (son of Omar Wilson, '87) : Being with a bunch 
of casuals, I have moved about over England and France quite a bit 
more than if I had come with my old division. I wish I could tell 
you of some of the towns I was in, but I can say hardly anything, 
you know. Have been in action under artillery and machine-gun 
fire. We have respect for the Germans' barrage and machine-gun 
fire, but not for their fighting ability in hand-to-hand encounter. 
They cannot stand the bayonet well. They are tricky, but they "go 
some" when they slip it over an American. We don't take any pris- 
oners unless we positively must. A dead German is the only good 



From Our Soldier Boys 217 

one. I have seen young boys among their dead. They have to 
chain lots of them to their guns, and occasionally we find women 
fighting along with the men. 

We are doing the attacking, and yet, if you count the dead, you 
can see how much better soldiers we are. In places where they fell 
back fast, we would find one dead American and about fifteen dead 
Huns. One of us is good for at least three of the enemy. 

If you follow the news reports of the big drive, you may read of 
some of the battles our division figured in. Have been lucky so far 
and am still in good health. Have never worked so hard before. I 
am in Company A, 110th Infantry, 28th Division, A. E. F. * * * 

I could not get writing paper, so I tore these sheets out of an old 
book I found in a farmhouse. I am still in active service and have 
not yet been wounded. I am just awfully lucky ; have had big shells 
fall around me, have been sniped at, have gone "over the top," and 
have done all there is to do — about. Have never worked so hard 
under all kinds of conditions in my life, but I still am in pretty good 
physical condition. I have seen strong men lose their nerve because 
of being under shell fire so long and in a continual worry. But I 
have not lost mine and don't think I will. I always stop and reason 
it out and am as I always was. 

I did get homesick for the first time ; I guess, maybe, it was what 
I have been through. I won't tell you what that was, for a good sol- 
dier is not supposed to complain over hardships. But I would just 
have given anything if I could have been back on the old place once 
more eating fruit, — a longing one gets now and then that can't be 
explained. I just got to wondering how everything looked, and how 
all the work was coming on, and what you both were doing, and 
when I would get back, and how things would be. I tried not to 
think too much about it, but I couldn't help thinking how much I 
really did want to be back for a while, anyhow. 

We are never allowed to build fires on account of the aircraft 
seeing them, so we sleep in the rain and the mud, while we cuss and 
wish and do the best we can. Now I can go to sleep under shell 
fire nearly as well as on a quiet night. You can dream here of all 
the good times gone and of fine dinners back in camp and of all 
kinds of good things. But most of our work and moving is done 



218 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

at night, so those dreams are generally cut short by a kick from 
some sergeant, who orders you to fall in within five minutes for 
detail or march or any kind of work that you don't like. 

I think our outfit will be going back before long, as we have only 
three lieutenants left, and not nearly enough men for work. The 
28th Division has been hit pretty hard. 

I v/as in a picked bunch of forty from the regiment to do patrol 
duty in "No-Man's Land." I shot a German machine gunner with 
my pistol. We ran into each other in the dark. I have been in sev- 
eral close-up fights, where it was so smoky and dark we could not 
see, fighting hand-to-hand and using automatics and hand grenades. 
Somewhat exciting? I have had all the excitement I want now, — 
believe me. I have some money I took from the first boche I was 
absolutely certain I had killed alone; have helped to get a good 
many. I have a watch I took from a German that a fellow named 
Brown and I captured when a patrol of eighteen of us went out one 
night to get information. I hope I'll still be as lucky as I have been, 
for narrow escapes are so common here that it isn't worth while to 
mention them. 

I think the United States will give Germany enough when we get 
into full swing. I should like to tell you of our fighting and our 
life, but you have read all about it anyhow. It is just as the book 
and magazine writers say, only maybe not so interesting. 

It takes nearly as much "guts" to stick a boche on his knees howl- 
ing "Merci, Kamerad !" as to stick one coming at you. I regard a 
German as an animal to be hunted and killed. They are not so 
human as our own men, — anyway I won't think so. 

In the daytime in the front line, about all there is to do is to fight 
flies and smoke. You cannot imagine how bad the flies are with so 
much dead stuff about. I smoke quite a little. The government fur- 
nishes the tobacco. I think it does one more good than harm here, 
but I never cared anything about the weed until I got here where 
everybody uses it so much. I do not yet like coffee, but sometimes 
we get good wine and cognac. 

Corporal Edward S. Wagoner, '20: I have just returned from 
the evening «;ervices at the Y. Heard a talk by a private, one of 



From Our Soldier Boys 219 

the doughboys. It is the second talk I have heard from the dough- 
boys here, and both talks have impressed more than any other I 
have heard since we've been at the front. The beauty about them 
is that they can't hand out a word that they are not sincere in, for 
their audience is the men they live with twenty-four hours a day 
and they would be mobbed for hypocrisy if they were not sincere. 

The first fellow I heard was a small, cross-eyed young man who 
showed all signs of having bucked the most stubborn battle that 
the game of life offers. His voice was slightly more audible than 
a loud whisper. Dave Brown— his name alone gives the picture. 
He had no wonderful command of the Bible, but what he knew 
he knew, and is making a brave attempt to live up to it. A tear 
dimmed the eye of alm.ost every fellow throughout the talk. This 
is sufficient proof of his sincerity. 

The talk to-night was better, was given by one who seems to 
have had more of a chance in life. It was just as impressive, per- 
haps for the same reason. 

These fellows, and there are many more of them, are doing an 
invaluable good to us all. We are rapidly coming to realize that 
this war has been brought not upon us, but upon the people of the 
world, wholly through our sins. It is a war of incalculable man- 
power, in which God is going to win a distinct victory. This fact 
is the thing that is bringing us to our senses. This is why there is 
such a noticeable change in the American young men, especially 
those over here. The lesson is becoming exceedingly practical. We 
are learning rapidly that a victory against sin is a far greater step 
toward home and final peace than the taking of the helmets of a 
hundred Boches. 

I am sure we will win a big victory because it has been shown 
that our principles are by far cleaner than our enemy's ; but tlie 
great victory is going to be God's over mankind. The great element 
which is uncovering this valuable fact is the Y. M. C. A. It is the 
Association which rounds up such as I have heard, and they are the 
means of spreading its influence. 

I hope that in a few days we will be helping in the big war. It 
will be our golden opportunity and I think we'll show up well. At 
least we are seasoned and all are anxious to go. 



220 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

[Edward's wish was realized. He did "help in the big war." 
After weeks in a base hospital the following letter was sent to a 
friend.] 

I have been lying here all afternoon trying to think of something 
to write that might be of interest to you. I could tell you how that 
"210 H. E." shell accidentally found my hiding place, but you have 
probably heard that a dozen times already. And I might tell you 
of the fine vacation I have had since then in the hospitals with 
the nurses, and riding around France on a hospital train, but all 
this stuff is secondary to the fun we are having. At the time I 
left the gang we were chasing those Dutch scoundrels so fast that 
we couldn't keep up with them. One evening, after we had ad- 
vanced all day, we asked some fellows along the road where the 
front was. "It was about a mile up the road from here this morn- 
ing, but I don't know how far it is now," was the reply. Well, it 
took us three days to get there, and they weren't nearly finished 
when I left. I'm going to get back in time to help rim 'em some 
more. 

Got six Collegians and an Alumnal Quarterly in the last mail. 
The Biology Club's play seems to have been the hit of the year. 
Hope to have a chance to see it over here. 

There are several Sigs here, three in this hospital unit, a couple 
of surgeons and another patient ; so, you see, I'm not lonely. 

Fritz [his brother] was here to see me last Sunday all dolled up 
in officer's togs. 

[There are of the alumni who remember Howard Cale, that fair- 
minded, loyal, honorable gentleman of the class of 1866. Mr. Cale 
loved his Alma Mater and served her long as valued trustee. For 
this reason we copy from The Indianapolis News of July 20 the 
following letter from his son Harrison.] 

I am in a hospital in Paris suffering from mustard gas poison- 
ing. I was severely burned in the eyes, lungs, and on the body. I 
was blind for four days, but was able to read newspaper print 
to-day. My body is a bright pink, but the burns were not deep. I 
was in the gas for an hour at the point where it was thickest, so as 
to the condition of my lungs no one can tell. This gas poisoning is a 



From Our Soldier Boys 221 

peculiar thing. One might be apparently well, and dead the next 
minute or live a long, long time. Any way, I am out of the war for 
a long time. 

Henry J. Allen, of the Red Cros.s, came to see me as soon as I got 
here and they have done everything that could be done to make me 
comfortable. I am walking over to the mess hall now, about a hun- 
dred yards away, and able to get around quite a bit, but I have to 
watch constantly not to overdo myself. 

We met the Crown Prince's First Division of Saxons, the famous 
Prussian Guard. We halted them in our way to the front. It looked 
like the evacuation of Belgium in 1914. Every one was moving pel- 
mell out of the way of the German horde. My company was in the 
thickest part of it all, as we held the center of the line all during the 
fighting that ensued during the next fifteen days and nights. We 
captured the town of Bussares. I was the twentieth man on the 
place. 

We marched down over fields into the Prussian machine guns and 
took them with our hands. I was in the center of the big field when 
eight out of my twelve men were killed by machine-gun fire. I got 
up, and with the remaining three, ran one hundred yards across the 
open to a woods, with five machine guns shooting at us and not one 
of us was hit. Bullets cut my clothing in the front and on my 
back. We gave the Huns an awful beating, destroyed three divi- 
sions and put an awful crimp in their drive on Paris. A few days 
ago we moved forward to attack the Huns. 

We have won the regimental honor and my regiment is now en- 
titled to wear the cord around the left arm. General Pershing gave 
us the fourth citation for bravery. I went through it all and was 
never struck by a bullet or a piece of shrapnel. 

During the barrage the Germans dropped 40,000 gas shells on us. 
It lasted from darkness to daylight. We were in a woods and dug 
in the ground in little holes, 2x6 and 2x3 feet deep. The entire 
woods were blasted down. We, for the most part, took refuge in a 
road, but it was mighty little in the way of protection. Jime 2 
stopped the drive on Paris. June 7 captured Bussares and defeated 
the Crown Prince's finest body of troops. June 14 wiped out by 
mustard gas. This is a record that will go down in histor}^ of the 
Marine Corps as the greatest feat ever performed by a single unit. 



222 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

[Copied from George H. Seldes, Special Correspondent with 
American Troops in France. Lieutenant (now Major) Bonham is 
our Carlos W. Bonham, ex-' 17.] 

With the American Army, Marne Front, July 18. — "You're in 
luck," said Lieutenant Bonham. "We've just killed our pet rabbit." 

He led the way down the path and around the shell holes, past 
two or three houses which had been poked through by two-hundred- 
pounders, and into another deserted dwelling which was now the 
mess hall of the unit. 

We were in luck. We had a table and real chairs, not old shell 
crates, china on the table, spoons, at least one for every three din- 
ers, and enough forks to go around. We had roses on the table, 
sticking out of empty cases of 75's. On the walls were pictures, a 
large lithograph of the battle of the Marne, Papa Jofifre in colors, 
the virgin holding the child, a crucifix, and a crayon drawing, sub- 
ject unknown, probably the finest effort of the youngest of the fam- 
ily. 

Everything had been left to this battery by the civilian French 
who had fled when the Germans advanced toward Chateau Thierry, 
Including the pet rabbits. Our infantry and our artillery had met 
first the fleeing peasants, then the looting Germans, and now they 
were replacing the farmer and his wife, and the children who toil, 
fighting to give their homes and their acres back to them. 

"We've got company," announced the lieutenant as we entered. 
"It's lucky we kept the rabbit until to-day, isn't it?" 

From the next room came a grunt. We looked in. The floor had 
been covered with about a foot of hay, fresh mown hay from the 
field behind the house, and over it was a blanket, and on the blanket 
two or three officers were sleeping. They got up. 

"Didn't get any sleep last night," said one. 

"Stay out late at the dub?" 

"No, just had a little party — little gas and shell party," he replied. 

By this time the odor of good cooking from the kitchen was be- 
coming strong. Out in the road we saw a lineup of men, walking 
to the galley for their chow. That made us hungrier. 

Lieutenant C. W. Bonham, of Indianapolis, then told me about 
the pet rabbit. True, he said, the French family had raised it and 



From Our Soldier Boys 223 

all its little brothers and sisters, for the purpose of eating them, but 
it went against the feelings of the men of the mess, all artillery offi- 
cers, to kill anything that didn't have a fighting chance or a chance 
to run away. "Let's go in and eat," he said. 

We sat down at the round table. The orderly placed the bread on 
a large French platter, and then produced some real fresh butter, 
bought at a neighboring farmhouse. Finally he appeared with the 
rabbit stew. 

The captain insisted that I help myself first. The pot passed 
around the table. There were a few jests about the good friend the 
rabbit had been of all the officers present, and about the tears that 
had been shed on his departure. Every one prepared to eat. 

"Kerrrrrr — boom." 

Up the street was an explosion. 

"Kerrrrrr — boom." 

Up the hill to ot\v right was an explosion. 

From up the street came the sounds of shouting and scurrying 
feet. 

From the hillside came the sounds of groaning horses and beat- 
ing hoofs. 

"Ssssssst — boom." 

A little nearer this time. 

"Gas masks — get your masks on !" some one called out. 

As this was one of the usual messes in France at which the eti- 
quette of the day calls for a mask slung over the shoulder, we soon 
had them ready. Then out we went, officers and orderly and cook, 
out into the road, and into a hilly wheat field. 

The Germans continued their messtime hate for half an hour. 
They threw shells into the village, into the echelon line, where sev- 
eral horses were killed and others stampeded, into the highway and, 
farther away, they sought to hit our guns. There was notliing for 
us to do but wait. 

Lieutenant C. M. Maclean, of Savannah, Georgia, told me how, 
during the attack on this sector, his battery came riding up from the 
Paris road until it reached the position it was to take. The guns 
were turned around. The men brought up shells. 

"Three minutes after our arrival," said Lieutenant Maclean, "we 



224 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

had a perfect barrage over the boche. One of their prisoners after- 
ward asked one of our men whether it was true that the French or 
Americans had invented an automatic 75." 

Lieutenant Bonham told me about his dugout in the artillery line. 
"Vv^e had a German shell come plump into it night before last," he 
said. "Big shell, too. But it didn't explode. Lucky dud; that's 
why three of us are alive to-day." 

"Luck?" said Lieutenant Maclean. "Why, look at this." He 
held up the back wing of his coat and showed me the holes in it, 
three or four jagged rents about an inch long each. 

"Got those last night," he said, "sleeping out on the hill. The 
boche bombarded us, just as he is doing now, and we all went up 
there to sleep. I brought this coat along and spread it out near me, 
within finger distance if I felt too cold. Along came some shrap- 
nel, and did this, but didn't touch me." 

"Yes, they say it's healthy to sleep under the stars," said Lieuten- 
ant Bonham. "As for me, I've got a 'to let' sign on my artillery 
dugout." 

We spent the half-hour in this manner. Nobody seemed to mind 
the shelling of the village. Finally it ended. 

We tramped back to the farmhouse and entered the dining room. 
At once every one thought of the rabbit stew, cold and unappetizing 
on the table and untouched. 

The captain called for the orderly. There was no reply. A mo- 
ment later, however, he entered. In his hand he had a piece of shell. 

"Burst in the back yard, sir," he said, "and threw dirt all over the 
roses." 

"Dig out those two cans of California pineapple we've been sav- 
ing for a grand occasion," said the captain. "I'm hungry." 

The rabbit stew was eaten cold. The pineapple followed, and 
every one had two or three cups of hot coffee. They told me after- 
ward this was their first real meal after five days of hardtack and 
"monkey meat" — the South African dried beef which the French 
had supplied. 

"W'e'll be glad to have you come around and mess with the artil- 
lery any time," Lieutenant Bonham said in parting, "but we can't 
always promise a meal as good as this. There was only one pet rab- 
bit, you know." 



From Our Soldier Boys 225 

Hilton U. Brown, Jr., ex-'19: Recent developments have caused 
me to delay the finishing of this letter, and since I left off I have had 
some great experiences. I came as near being killed as I ever will 
come if I am in war a hundred years. I was mounted on a horse 
last night, about 9 o'clock, preparing to go on a little expedition, 
when all of a sudden a shell burst directly under my horse. I did 
not know what happened until fifteen minutes later, when I awoke, 
suffering from fright more than anything else, and was told what 
happened. My horse was literally disemboweled, a fragment going 
entirely through him, and only stopping when it struck the steel 
saddletree. I am none the worse for it, not even shell shock, but 
the horse was my own, a great friend of mine, and I feel as if I had 
lost a close companion. 

If the shell had burst ten feet away I undoubtedly would have 
been torn to pieces by fragments, or shocked insane. But the faith- 
ful old brute saved my life. I have thought a good many times 
to-day of the experience and I want to tell you that I have prayed to 
God several times, thanking Him for His mercy. 

This story sounds rather "fishy," doesn't it? But while I know of 
no other escapes any more miraculous, one happened in my com- 
pany to-day. A shell came into a trench in which two of my men 
were observing, but it failed to explode. If it had, we would never 
have known what became of them. But God was with us and not 
"Gott mit uns." I might say that only about one-twentieth of 1 per 
cent, of the shells fired fail to function, 

"1 am inclosing a picture post card which I took from a German 
prisoner. They are not allowed to keep things of this character and 
usually they make good souvenirs for us. Our men are from every 
State in the Union and many foreign countries and I have not as yet 
run across any from home except a reserve officer. I have many 
good wishes for the continued success and future of old Butler and 
may her sons distinguish themselves so as to do credit to her name. 

Last night the Germans gassed us and gas is the most terrible thing 
a soldier has to deal with. We think we are pretty well trained in 
gas defense, which we are, but Fritz pulled a new one on us. Here- 
tofore, gas has been sent over in regular gas shells, which do not 
make much of an explosion and which can readily be told from high 



226 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

explosives. But this new one is to combine gas with high explosive 
and he caught us unaware. Every time I get around gas I am more 
afraid of the devilish stuff. Ask any soldier whether he would 
rather be shelled or 'gassed and he will invariably tell you, "Give me 
shell, any time." 

You can't appreciate its dastardly work until you see some of its 
victims, and then your blood boils within you and your animal or 
brute instinct arises, and you think of what you would like to do to 
every squarehead this side of hell. Only a while ago I put this prop- 
osition up to one of my officers: If we should be victorious and 
succeed in bringing Germany to her knees, would it not be justice 
to torture every boche and finally kill him, and then, after stamping 
out everything that savors of German kultur, to divide the country 
up among several different nations ? 

Of course this would be justice to them, all right, but it would de- 
feat the purpose and ideal for which we are fighting. It is only a 
sample of my thoughts, brought on by their hellish w^arfare, but I 
tell it to you to let you know what I think of them. 

Probably the censor will delete most of this, but I w^ant to appeal 
to you as an American patriot to do all in your power to hurry the 
people along. It seems that they have been lagging, in a measure. 
Do you realize that Germany is making her final and colossal effort 
this summer to win? We are holding them now, but by a mighty 
effort, as you will know when you see the casualty lists. I tell you 
this is not the prattle of a pessimist or an alarmist, but a plain state- 
ment of facts. 

The Americans have fought valiantly and in our sector have ad- 
vanced several kilometers. They have surprised the French and 
brought forth much praise from every one, including General Per- 
shing. They have to fight valiantly, because they are up against 
good soldiers who supplement their work by all the devices that are 
forbidden in civilized warfare, and it is a question of self-preserva- 
tion. 

I have often thought of what a godsend this w^ar has been to our 
country. It has given us time to at least present an army formidable 
enough to make a creditable defense of our land, but I think if the 
French and British are defeated, what a menace this German mon- 



From Our Soldier Boys 227 

ster will be to us. We will have been the gainers in the end if it 
costs us a million men. And here is one who is willing to be one of 
those if the Germans are completely defeated and subdued and a 
lasting peace is assured. 

I wish you could be here long enough to see the spirit of the offi- 
cers and men. They are well fed, well clothed, have all the neces- 
sities, but they are always up against great odds. You know that 
normally one American can whip two Germans because he has right 
and liberty on his side. But when they put three or more against 
him he would be doing the impossible to vanquish them. Perhaps 
ere this reaches you the lists of unfortunates will have been pub- 
lished. 

I ask you, do you think these lists will spur the people to a greater 
activity? The question is really unnecessary for I know the answer. 
But these sacrifices are really pitiful. If we were reinforced, per- 
haps the lists would be normal. It might be of interest to tell you 
that we captured 350 prisoners to-day, but that is a mere drop in the 
bucket. You undoubtedly know that we are having open warfare, 
no longer trenches and dugouts and the like, for the line is chang- 
ing every day and no one can really define its limits on the map. 

Lieutenant John Paul Ragsdale, ex-'12: I am sitting in my 
little hut just back of the lines, in delightful solitude, writing by tlie 
light of— I was about to say two candles, but one has just burnt out, 
so there's only one. I am quite sure that the much revered Presi- 
dent Lincoln had nothing on the A. E. F., when it comes to candle 
light. When one has a lamp, he is in luxury; and as for electric 
lights, look out, for if the colonel finds it, he'll surely be after your 
billet for himself. 

By this time (September 11), no doubt, college will have begun. 
But what a change of faces among the men ! I wonder if any of 
the familiar names are still there. Butler has surely lived up to her 
traditions in the noblest manner, and one is proud to think that he 
may be counted as a representative of such a loyal, patriotic insti- 
tution. 

During the spring months, it was my great privilege to see some 
of the college men quite frequently. Daniels, Larsh, W^hi taker, Ed 



228 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Wagoner, and I were members of many a well-remembered "But- 
ler reunion." And of all the enjoyable times that we did have! 
Since June, however, we have missed these gatherings. 

Variety is the spice of life. Just at this time I feel very well 
seasoned. Our life for several months has greatly resembled a 
checker-board. We have fought the Hun here ; then, there ; then a 
little period of rest to get ready for another try at him. And, I am 
proud to say, he has not yet been able to beat us, and from the pres- 
ent disposition of our officers and men — their high morale, their un- 
daunted courage, their everlasting up-and-at-them spirit — I do not 
think the order of things will be changed. 

And what a comfort and strength to us to know that those at 
home, those who are dear to us, are praying for our success, are 
backing us up with all their strength to the last drop, and with their 
goods to the last penny. And I am sure that the time is not far dis- 
tant when those prayers will be answered and victory will crown 
the Allied arms. 

Now a word about myself. I had been second in command of 
a machine gun company for some time, when, about two weeks ago, 
I was ordered into regimental headquarters as assistant adjutant. I 
had served in headquarters once before as inspector, but had gone 
back into the line at my own request and had stayed in the line long 
enough to do my little part in driving the Hun back. My work 
now is very agreeable, though also very new, and, consequently, re- 
quires quite an amount of application and study. However, I hope 
to make good. 

My second candle is burning dangerously low and warns me of 
my hour of retiring — which operation, I might state, consists of re- 
moving one's boots, rolling up in a blanket, and wishing for a good 
old Indiana feather-bed. 

Please remember me to all my old college friends and tell them 
we'll be coming back home soon. 

Sergeant Robert L. Larsh, ex-'19: I'm way back from the 
front now for a short rest, where I cannot even hear the rumble of 
the guns. 

It has been very beautiful, sunny France for sure, but to-day it 



^ From Our Soldier Boys 229 

is raining hard and is disagreeable for nearly everything except 
writing and reading. We are living in barracks, supposedly rain- 
proof, but I'm sitting in between drops now. My mess cup is about 
half full — water which was intended for my bed ; but this is not bad 
— ^just part of life. ♦ * * 

The Quarterly was late in coming. I have just finished reading 
Dr. Mackenzie's address, and it is needless to say that it has helped 
me to see things differently. I think I'm like the rest of the boys. 
I get tired of this over here, disgusted with the life, and rather lose 
sight of what we are here for, the big ideals we are fighting for. 
Reading this address to-day makes it all clearer and easier. Of 
course we are all game to the end, but it does get awfully tiresome. 
Some of the things I have seen on this last big push will stay with 
me always. It leaves bitterness in the heart against the Hun. 

Some of the French people are left in a very pitiful state. Even 
as far back as we are, we see the women out in the wheat fields 
gleaning. They go along and rake up or pick up the loose wheat, 
and, maybe, after a few hours they are able to gather a very small 
bundle. However, they seem happy, nevertheless. The people 
nearer the front are the ones affected most. We passed through 
any number of small towns which are laid in absolute waste. Upon 
our return, we saw these poor people returning and trying to take 
up life again — a hopeless task, it seemed to me. 

Danny has gone away with his detail to a wireless school. He'll 
be gone about three weeks. All of us are getting along finely. Eddie 
Wagoner was pretty severely wounded, but is getting along all right, 
from what I can find out. 

Lieutenant J. T. C. McCallum, '16: After many wanderings 
and sojoumings, but mainly wanderings, I am able to write to you 
and say that I have been in one place for ten days. It was a trip 
we had ! Naturally, with a bunch of rookies there was plent}^ of 
hard work, but all the same there was pleasure along with it. The 
voyage across was great. Very few were sick, for which the size 
of the boat and the calmness of the sea were responsible. We 
traveled in first-class staterooms on a great Atlantic liner; and ate 
— my, but I ate enough for ten. So you see Uncle Sam mixes a 



230 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

party in with hard and tiresome work. I could not but feel what 
a time a fellow might have on the same boat in peace times. As 
it was, we had some lords and ladies on board. I must say that 
I never gave the subs a thought, although one lieutenant in our 
stateroom was almost scared stiff. Poor fellow — and he expects to 
make a machine gun officer of himself, too. 

We made a brief stay in England and I saw a good deal of the 
country'. Fortunately the weather was perfect and everything ap- 
peared at its best. It is undoubtedly a beautiful and well-kept little 
country. One does not see any men except real old men and broken 
down and wounded soldiers, and yet every hedge and garden is in 
perfect condition. The women of England are certainly doing their 
part nobly. One sees more men in France than in England, in fact 
I believe that England shows the signs of war more than does 
France. * * * 

I am liking this place. We passed within the roll of thunder from 
the guns one day, August 8th, when the English made their big 
drive, but since then I have been out of range. We are now wait- 
ing our turn and working hard on our guns. 

The towns in which we are located are quaint old places with 
narrow, winding streets and solid stone houses. Nearly every vil- 
lage has its chateau which dates back to the twelfth century. We 
have our headquarters in a chateau here, and our official entrance 
is over the royal moat and through the royal arch. And my ! you 
should hear the stories that our boys tell about it. You see we have 
to censor the letters and we get the full benefit of them. It has been 
the headquarters of every military leader from Coeur de Lion on 
down to Jeanne D'Arc, Napoleon included, as well as some old 
Irish chieftains. 

This is one of the gardens of France; vineyards on all sides. 
Wish some of the boys and girls could be here to enjoy the moon- 
light of the beautiful region. I want to talk to somebody who can 
understand my lingo. Best of luck! 

Lieutenant Earl T. Bonham, ex-'18: It is still my good for- 
tune to be on the front — the place very much coveted by a vast num- 
ber of anxious and chafing true-blooded American lads, eager to 



From Our Soldier Boys 231 

take their chance with the Hun. They sometimes think that they 
are too young and inexperienced to tackle a veteran Hke the boche, 
but the same kind of fine young fellows have been initiated daily 
only to learn that they are individually equal to him and in their 
own minds confident that they are superior. We must give the ad- 
versary his just dues, though, for he is a worthy opponent except 
for his absolute disregard or ignorance of fair play. This latter 
characteristic has cost many a German life which might have been 
and undoubtedly would have been spared had his opponent any 
faith in him. 

There is no need for worry, and, while some may not return, they 
will not have remained in vain, for victory is more inevitable every 
day. It is a hard struggle, but one the result of which will be a 
thousand times worth the effort. * * * 

How is old Butler? Will certainly be glad to see the old place 
again when this is all over. Regards to all. 

Sergeant Murray Mathews, '13: I am up here [Vancouver] 
as a sergeant in the Spruce Production Division of the Air Service 
of the army. We are making soldiers out of men who cannot 
pass the overseas examination, and then are sending them to the 
forests of Oregon and Washington to get out spruce for aeroplanes. 
While this work is hardly that of a real soldier, it is absolutely 
necessary, as the aeroplane is playing a very important part in the 
war now. Once a month an overseas examination is given and it is 
surprising how many men become physically perfect after a turn 
in the woods. Of course our base hospital is full of men who have 
been operated on to make them better men, and they in turn soon 
join a regiment for overseas duty. The government is doing a won- 
derful work for the country by having this camp here, in that thou- 
sands of men have been given medical service (which they never 
would have had in civil life) and are turned out cured. 

My recommendation for a commission is in now and I hope to 
receive it soon. There are three of our family in the army now. 

The Quarterly comes gratefully to me. 

Floyd E. Huff, '16: While I am not in the army, still the work 
here is 100 per cent, war work. \A'e are in tl;e work wirh but one 



232 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

purpose, "Lick the Kaiser." As our share we have been making 
over one and a half million pounds of T. N. T. [trinitrotoluol] per 
month for the United States navy and the French army. This 
amount is about one-third of all the T. N. T. made in Pennsylvania, 
and that is much when you consider the fact that there are about 
twenty plants in this State making it. 

It is highly interesting work and full of excitement. So much is 
this true that when one gets into the explosive game only one thing 
will remove him, — that which removed one hundred eighteen last 
May here at the ^tna Chemical Works, of Oakdale. That was my 
lucky day and I am thankful for it. The day before, I put in about 
eight hours at the building the first to blow up. How I escaped I 
know not, for some of my best friends were lost. 

My best regards to all Butler friends. 



Our Casualty List 

Seaman Henry Clarence Toon, ex-'15, died of pneumonia at the 
Great Lakes Station, on January 21, 1918. 

Lieutenant John Charles Good, '17, died of pneumonia at Camp 
Dodge, on March 30, 1918. 

Lieutenant Robert E. Kennington, ex-'15, killed in action at the bat- 
tle of Chateau Thierry, on August 8, 1918. 

Lieutenant Kenneth Victor Elliott, '20, died on August 31, 1918, of 
wounds received in France. 

Sergeant Henry R. Leukhardt, ex-'12, died of pneumonia at Camp 
Pike, on October 2, 1918. 

Lieutenant Hilton U. Brown, Jr., ex-'18, severely wounded on May 
13, 1918. 

Edward S. W'agoner, '20, severely wounded on July 30, 1918. 

Corporal William E. Hacker, '15, severely wounded on August 8, 
1918. 



The Opening of College 

We have returned to a transformed Butler College. It is impos- 
sible to make our readers realize what has happened on the campus. 
Indeed, even we who live in Irvington and who had seen hard-work- 
ing professors throughout the vacation preparing for an unpre- 
cedented enrollment, were not in readiness for the matriculation of 
September 30 and October 1. 

The interested observer, however, sees more than improved sur- 
roundings and enlarged numbers ; he cannot fail to be impressed 
with the spirit of fine endeavor which pervades the whole institu- 
tion. The frivolous element which too often creeps into academic 
life has been eliminated. The student who at times has attended 
college with no apparent motive higher than "to get by" is not in 
evidence. The "high seriousness" of Matthew Arnold's preaching 
seems pervasive. 

This condition places no light obligation upon the teacher. His 
task was never a more elevated opportunity. His present mission 
is to develop practical efficiency and mental alertness ; but it is more. 
There lies upon him a double insistence for quickening the soul as 
well as the mind of his classes; for showing the beauty of scholar- 
ship in relation to life and thus revealing the glory of God. 

The time is not less great for the professor than for the student. 
Surely this is living. 

Military Training for Colleges 

Last spring the Secretary of War authorized the following an- 
nouncement : 

"In order to provide military instruction for the college students 
of the country during the present emergency, a comprehensive plan 
will be put in effect by the War Department, beginning with the 
next college year, in September, 1918. The details remain to be 
worked out, but in general the plan will be as follows : 

"Military instruction under officers and non-commissioned officers 
of the army will be provided in every institution of college grade, 
which enrolls for instruction 100 or more able-bodied students over 
the age of eighteen. The necessary military equipment will, so far 



234 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

as possible, be provided by the government. There will be created 
a military training unit in each institution. Enlistment will be 
purely voluntary, but all students over the age of eighteen will be 
encouraged to enlist. The enlistment will constitute the student a 
member of the army of the United States, liable to active duty at 
the call of the President. It will, however, be the policy of the gov- 
ernment not to call the members of the training units to active duty 
until they have reached the age of twenty-one, unless urgent mili- 
tary necessity compels an earlier call. Students under eighteen and 
therefore not legally eligible for enlistment, w411 be encouraged to 
enroll in the training units. Provision will be made for coordinat- 
ing the Reserve Officers' Training Corps system, which exists in 
about one-third of the collegiate institutions, with this broader plan. 

"This new policy aims to accomplish a two-fold object: first to 
develop as a great military asset the large body of young men in the 
colleges; and second, to prevent unnecessary and wasteful depletion 
of the colleges through indiscriminate volunteering, by offering to 
the students a definite and immediate military status." 

At Butler College has been located one of the units of the Stu- 
dents' Army Training Corps of the National Army. Three hun- 
dred men were inducted into the Federal service on Tuesday morn- 
ing, October 1, the exercises of which occasion have been given 
elsewhere. 

To locate three hundred boys when all college buildings were 
more than full was not a light task; but with the use of the g>'m- 
nasium, the College of Missions, the Sunday school building of the 
Downey Avenue Church, and with the opening of many homes in 
the community, the boys are being accommodated until final ar- 
rangements are made. 

The college is spending $20,000 upon two barracks, a mess hall, 
and a bath house ; and by the time The Quarterly reaches its read- 
ers all will be completed and in operation. The new buildings are 
placed upon the old tennis court north of Irwin Field (that old field 
remembered by some as the nesting place of meadow larks ; by oth- 
ers for the heroic effort of Newton Browder, '16, in converting it 
into a tennis court), and in the hands of Lee Burns, a former stu- 
dent, are an architectural addition to the college surroundings. 

Lieutenant Henry E. Dodd was commanding officer of the unit 



The Faculty 235 

until the organization was completed. He was succeeded by his 
personnel adjutant, Lieutenant W. Scott Harkins, who is an alum- 
nus of Central College, Kentucky, and who has attended the infan- 
try training school and the personnel adjutants' school of Fort 
Sheridan. He is in full sympathy with athletics, having been a star 
player in his Alma Mater. 

The Faculty 

The faculty has returned from vacation refreshed in appearance. 
The schedule is in the main that of last year, although to meet the 
present need certain new courses have been added, as, the Great War 
and its Aims, Recent European History, Literature of the War, 
Household Administration, Dietetics, Food Economy. 

Dr. Earl H. C. Davies from Washington University is established 
in the department of Chemistry as its head. Miss Winifred Siever 
from Columbia University presides over the new department of 
Home Economics. The Quarterly welcomes most cordially these 
two new members of the faculty, and trusts that the college and its 
life will become to them a matter of as sincere interest as to those 
longer connected with the institution. (Axiom: the longer and the 
more intimately one knows Butler College, the more devoutly is one 
touched by her concerns. H confirmation be necessary, turn to the 
President of the Board of Directors of Butler College.) 

Mrs. Jessie Christian Brown, '97, is teaching three French classes. 
Richard Moore, '18, has charge of three sections of Trigonometry. 
Mrs. Gladys Banes Bradley, '20, presides over the class in Solid 
Geometry. 

There are of beginning French, ten sections ; of Freshman Eng- 
lish, eight sections ; of Freshman Mathematics, five sections ; of 
Freshman Chemistry, three sections. 

The College of Missions 

The College of Missions has favored Butler College many times, 
both institutionally and personally. It has brought into our midst 
a group of fine scholars and of finer men ; it has given to the com- 
munity over and over again the privilege of hearing great speakers ; 
it has enriched Irvington life in a very decided manner. Its faculty 



236 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

has been cordial to Butler College not only in admitting to classes 
Butler students, but also in numberless other ways, sharing its op- 
portunities with and offering its hospitality to our faculty and stu- 
dents. 

When the question of housing and feeding the Students' Army 
Training Corps staggered the Butler officials, it was the College of 
Missions faculty who stepped forward graciously offering their 
dining room (to be vacated by their own students), their parlor to 
be used as a hostess room, some of their recitation rooms to supple- 
ment our own insufficient number. It was a genuine Samaritan 
deed for which every friend of Butler College should be duly 
grateful. 

Enrollment 

A comparative view of the enrollment to date of 1917 and of 
1918 is: 1917-'18 1918-'19 

Men Women Total Men Women Total 

Old 57 157 214 50 144 194 

New 71 118 189 302 132 434 

Total 128 275 403 352 276 628 

Scholarships for French Girls in American Colleges 

In our last issue note was made of the fine step taken by the Asso- 
ciation of American Colleges in offering to supply scholarships suffi- 
cient to cover collegiate expenses for those French girls whom the 
French government would choose to send and for whom it would 
pay the traveling expenses to this country. As chairman of the 
Department of Education, State Council of Defense, Miss Graydon 
was asked to take this matter up in Indiana. Earlham College and 
DePauw University had each already consented to take two young 
women. In addition, Butler College has now taken two ; Purdue 
University, two; Franklin College, two; St. Mary of Notre Dame, 
two ; St. Mary of the Woods, seven ; making in all nineteen young 
women of France provided in Indiana with a college education. 

The scholarships at Butler are the gift of Mrs. Jennie Armstrong 
Howe, '89, and of Mr. George Landon, of Kokomo. They are held 



Scholarships for French Girls 237 

by two sisters, Mademoiselle Madeleine Postaire and Mademoiselle 
Marguerite Postaire, of Paris, who are domiciled at the College 
Residence and settled in their work. 

It is needless to say what this will do for Butler College — being 
blest while blessing, we are sure. 

M. Cestre, Exchange Professor in Harvard University, has told 
how the heart of the French nation has been touched by this act 
of the Association of American Colleges, and among other things 
says: "Our women sttidents will be eager to profit by the wide 
advantages tendered to them. All the French men and women who 
know America will not fail to explain to them the splendid field 
opened to their observation, their desire to learn and their endeavor 
to achieve. America has preceded all countries in the creation of 
seats of higher learning for women; she is the country where the 
opportunities of work and success, independence and public service, 
intellectual and social development, are the most nearly equal for 
men and for women. There is a variety of knowledge and technical 
ability accessible to women here which our French girls will find 
most valuable. In this country of strenuousness, enterprise, and 
daring there is a bracing atmosphere of active and bold undertaking 
which will be no longer uncongenial to our girls, since they have 
put their hands to so many things in France during the war; they 
will learn to turn this new spirit to good account for the activities 
of peace-time. Your schools of nursing, your scientific applications 
of hygiene to private or social life are in advance of what we have 
done in this line. In the domain of study you have more generously 
assimilated the education of girls in the classics or in the higher 
sciences to the education of boys. The department of English in 
your colleges will ofifer first rate resources for those of our girls 
who want to teach English in France ; they will be able to interpret 
America in her best aspect, having learned to know her idealistic 
life and having breathed the free, vivifying, cheerful, and sober air 
of your universities. 

"While they are on this side of the ocean they will be the inter- 
preters of France to America. Among the five French girls who 
have just arrived at Cincinnati as Fellows of tlie Universit}^ one 
had lost her old family homestead and all her property, burnt and 
trampled to atoms in Lorraine; another had served as nurse in an 



238 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

ambulance near Verdun ; another had done dutiful service in a hos- 
pital of a large city, where she had attended to and comforted hun- 
dreds of wounded soldiers, and, alas ! seen many of them die of 
incurable wounds. Among those who are to come some will have 
gone through the ordeal of terrible anxiety and suspense when Paris 
was threatened; some will have had a narrow escape at Nancy or 
in Paris under air raids. All will have tales to tell of trial or be- 
reavement in their families. By simply relating their daily experi- 
ences they will bring nearer to your American young women the 
tragic realities of this war, ruthlessly unchained by Germany to 
flood the world with blood and accumulate ruin and destruction. 

"Some of these French girls will be led by their altered circum- 
stances, or tempted by the hold this American life will lay on them, 
or induced by the appeal of apostleship, to stay in this country as 
teachers of French in schools and colleges. They will be perma- 
nent, living witnesses of the shameful treatment inflicted by Ger- 
many on her neighbors, and also the token-bearers and the thanks- 
givers testifying to the generous friendship of America and to the 
undying gratefulness of France. They will supply, to some extent, 
the need of good French teachers in this country after the war, pre- 
venting (let us devoutly hope) the greatest evil which might befall 
American education, namely, that the teaching of French, out of 
misplaced, good-natured slackness, should be passed over to the 
Germans, male or female, turned idle by the discrediting of Ger- 
man classics by American children. How many of such German 
teachers know French? And in what spirit would they interpret 
la douce France, even if they sincerely tried to do justice to her 
humane civilization and gentle sociability?" 

For Service in Italy 

Mrs. Maria Reynolds Ford, who has been a teacher of Spanish 
for the last three years in the College of Missions and who has en- 
deared herself to many of the faculty and students of Butler Col- 
lege, has received an appointment through the Lake division of the 
American Red Cross as a social worker in Italy, and has sailed from 
New York for her post of duty. Mrs. Ford's experience in social 
service includes ten years of educational work in San Juan, Porto 
Rico, and Argentina, and a year and a half as field secretary for 



To Professor Coleman 239 

the Woman's Board of Missions prior to her connection with the 
college in Indianapolis. 

No better choice could be made for carrying strength and succor 
to suffering Italians than that of Mrs. Ford, and the best wishes of 
The Quarterly go with her. 

The Butler Alumnae Literary Club 

The club will meet during 1918-'19 on the fourth Saturday of 
each month from September to May. The officers are : President, 
Miss Eva M. Lennes, '08; vice-president, Miss Corinne Welling, 
'12; secretary-treasurer. Miss Gretchen Scotten, '08, 

The program will consist of reports and discussions of the cur- 
rent magazines, and will be in charge of the hostess of the day. 
The practical war work for the year will be sewing for the Bel- 
gian babies. 

The schedule of meetings is as follows : September 28, with Miss 
Lennes, '08 ; October 26, with Miss Power, '08 ; November 23, with 
Miss Binninger, '07; December 28, with Miss Pavey, '12; January 
25, with Miss Scotten, '08; February 22, with Mrs. Wallace, '08; 
March 22, with Miss Welling, '12; April 26, with Miss Bachman, 
'12 ; May 24, with Miss Hoover, '08. 

To Professor Coleman 

The Quarterly extends to Professor Coleman its sincere sym- 
pathy in the sorrow which has befallen him in the death of his 
father. 

Mr. Louis H. Coleman, who died suddenly last August, was an 
unusual character, and a whole community mourns his loss. He 
had long lived in Springfield, Illinois, and had become an integral 
part of every good enterprise whether in the world of business, or 
of social betterment, or of religion. He was kindly, hospitable, re- 
tiring, loyal to every obligation of home and of church and of 
country. 

As one hears of this Christian gentleman, one feels the noble 
inheritance of the son who walks in our midst and who in his 
quiet, selfless, scholarly manner gives an invaluable impulse to the 
best life of Butler College. 



Personal Mention 

Miss Jessie Breadheft, '13, is at Washington serving in the mail- 
ing division of the ordnance department. 

Kenneth Barr, '16, after two years absence in Albuquerque, New 
Mexico, spent October at his home in Indianapolis. 

Mrs. Susanne Davis Thompson, '08, is in Indianapolis with her 
aunt, Mrs. A. M. Robertson, while her husband is in the service. 

Miss Edith Habbe, '14, has gone to Washington, where she is 
serving in the educational department of war work of the govern- 
ment. 

Mills Judy, '20, looked in on Irvington friends in October en 
route to the Students' Army Training Corps of the University of 
Cincinnati, of which he is a member. 

Mrs. Katherine Jameson Lewis, '16, is at home with her parents 
while Lieutenant Lewis is oversea. She continues her teaching of 
English at the Shortridge High School. 

Raymond C. Kramer, '16, has removed to Decatur, Illinois, where 
he is connected with the American Hominy Company. It was pleas- 
ant to have Raymond pay the college a good-bye visit. 

Word has been received of the safe arrival oversea of Lieutenant 
J. J. Hinman, Jr., '11, who is in the sanitary corps of the National 
Army. His service lies chiefly with the water supply work. 

While John W. Burkhardt, '10, is in New York City for the pur- 
pose of medical care, he is enjoying the privilege of the public 
library, as well as other countless advantages of the great metrop- 
olis. 

A cable message to the Bank of the City of New York announces 
that John L. H. Fuller, '17, is in Sweden. It is a matter of grati- 
tude that John is out of distressed Russia and it is hoped that he is 
on his way home. 



Personal Mention 241 

Professor James G. Randall, '03, is serving in an important ca- 
pacity with the Shipping Board at Washington. 

Lieutenant Robert M. Brewer, ex-'17, of the 163d depot brigade, 
Camp Dodge, spent a short furlough in Irvington in the summer. 

Dr. Edward A. Brown, '95, has received a captaincy in the medi- 
cal officers' reserve corps and is located at Fort Oglethorpe, Georgia. 

Dr. Aubrey L. Loop, ex-'99, holds a commission in the Medical 
Reserve Corps and is now stationed with the base hospital at Camp 
Gordon, Georgia. 

Miss Edith Hendren, '17, took her master's degree last June at 
Indiana University. She is now teaching English at the Technical 
High School of Indianapolis. 

Miss Barcus Tichenor, '10, is attending the New York City Pub- 
lic Library School. Miss Hazel Warren, '17, is studying at the New 
York State Library School at Albany. 

After spending several weeks in Irvington in the summer, Fred 
H. Jacobs, '16, returned to New England, where he presides over a 
church at South Norwalk, Connecticut. 

Lieutenant Justus W. Paul, '15, is now stationed in England 
where, it is said, he drives a thirty-ton tank as he joy-rides over the 
obstacles which stop all ordinary progress. 

Miss Clara Mclntyre, a former teacher of French in the college, 
received a doctor's degree at Yale University last June. She is now 
assistant professor at the University of Wyoming. 

Lieutenant Henry M. Jameson, ex-' 18, is located at Kansas City 
as commanding officer of the Students' Army Training Corps com- 
prising the students of the Polytechnic Institute and of two dental 
colleges, a unit of five hundred members. 

Mrs. W. J. Karslake (Grace Gookin, '00) has removed from 
Iowa City to Buffalo, New York, where Professor Karslake, for- 
merly connected with the faculty of Butler College, has taken a po- 
sition in industrial chemistry. 



242 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Miss Blanche P. Noel, '00, is teaching French in the State Nor- 
mal School at Marquette, Michigan. 

Miss Laura Ann Reed, '18, and Miss Katherine Riley, '17, are 
attending the Robert W. Long Hospital Training School. 

Mrs. Eda Boos Brewer, '14, is at Omaha, where Lieutenant 
Brewer is an instructor at Fort Omaha in the balloon school. 

Miss Vera Koehring, '16, is en route to the Philippine Islands, 
where she will teach in the government schools. Mrs. Koehring ac- 
companied her daughter. 

Miss Anna Burt, '08, after five years' absence on the Pacific 
coast, has returned to Indianapolis, and is teaching English in the 
Manual Training High School. 

Bloor Schleppey, ex-'12, marine, while in the city in September in 
heavy marching order, addressed the Indianapolis Athletic Club on 
modern marine corps instruction. 

Kenneth Badger, ex-'13, has received a captaincy and is now sta- 
tioned at Camp Gordon, Georgia. Lieutenant Everett Badger, ex- 
'15, his brother, is fighting in France. 

Lieutenant Hilton U. Brown, Jr., '19, has been discharged from 
the hospital and is now back with the Seventh Field Artillery. Rag- 
ged wounds from fragments of shell were slow to heal, but the pa- 
tient has recovered sufficiently to return to the front lines. 

Miss Mary L. Winks, '15, has gone to France as filing clerk in 
the engineering division of the ordnance department. Of the 2,500 
women who applied, Miss Winks was one of the first chosen. She 
has made a fine record at Washington, of which the college is justly 
proud. 

Mrs. Walter S. King, '91, entertained for several days in the 
Slimmer Edward King, Mrs. King, and their three children. Mr. 
King entered college in '87, and remained three years. He was cor- 
dially received by his Irvington friends, who hope he will return 
soon again. 



Personal Mention 243 

Word has been received of the arrival oversea of Lieutenant 
Francis W. Payne, '16; Lieutenant J. T. C. McCallum, '16; Lieu- 
tenant M. M. Hughel, '17; Sergeant Dean Fuller, ex-'17; Corporal 
Frank Sanders, '19; George H, Kingsbury, '20. 

Mrs. Herbert Warfel (Sidney Ernestine Hecker, '11) has moved 
with her little family to Richmond, Indiana, where her husband has 
engaged in teaching. For many favors The Quarterly is indebted 
to Mr. Warfel. Its best wishes follow Mr. and Mrs. Warfel wher- 
ever their path may lead. 

Our friend, Charles H. Caton, '76, is said to be 100 per cent, pa- 
triotic, and no one doubts it. Between speaking for the Council of 
Defense, helping to harvest the fields, and assisting in carrying out 
food regulations which urge the use of fish instead of beef and pork, 
he has spent a busy summer. 

Arthur A. Johnson, '95, is first lieutenant of the Twenty-second 
Regiment of Engineers at Fort Benjamin Harrison. Mrs. John- 
son, '95, is doing war service in the intelligence section of the War 
Department at Washington. She is said to have passed the highest 
civil service examination of her department. Congratulations ! 

Miss Mae J. Hamilton, '18, began work as membership and social 
secretary of the Indianapolis Y. W. C. A. on September 10. She 
assumed a part of the work of Miss Pearl Forsyth, '08, who is 
spending the year in study at the Y. W. Training School of New 
York City and at Columbia University. 

On September 18th, Mrs. B. M. Blount celebrated her eighty- 
eighth birthday. Many ties, seen and unseen, bind Mrs. Blount very 
close to the college. The Quarterly sends its congratulations and 
best wishes to her, hoping that as her days so may her strength be. 
She has learned 

"The best is yet to be. 

The last of life, for which the first was made: 
Our times are in His hand 
Who saith, "A whole I planned. 
Youth shows but half ; trust God : see all nor be afraid !" 



244 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

James Challen Smith, '88, spent a few hours in Irvington recently. 
He was returning from Washington, where he had been called in 
interest connected with war work. He is Federal administrator 
of the Working Boys' Reserve of Utah, and is doing there a fine 
work. "Challen," said President Howe, "is one of our boys to be 
proud of. His work in educational lines, his standing among liter- 
ary people, his patriotic service, do great credit to the college in 
which he was reared." It was a matter of regret that Mr. Smith 
could not linger longer in our midst. 

Halsey R. Keeling, ex-' 16, advertising manager of the Haynes 
Automobile Company, Kokomo, has become a member of the 
Sidener-Van Riper Advertising Company, having been elected to 
the board of directors and vice-presidency of the company. He 
took up his new duties in Indianapolis on October 14. Mr. Keeling 
has had practical experience in advertising and selling. While in 
college he was connected with The Indianapolis Star, then with 
the Studebaker Automobile Company, then with the Armstrong 
Cork Company, of Pittsburgh, and then with the Haynes Automo- 
bile Company. Mr. and Mrs. Keeling are both former Butler stu- 
dents, and it is pleasant to have them return to a residence nearer 
the college. 

Edward James, '21, has received a commission of pilot and sec- 
ond lieutenant in the United States Aviation Corps. He is now sta- 
tioned at Dayton, Ohio. On October 9, Ed flew over Irvington, to 
the excitement of his neighbors and friends and the small boys on 
the street. It was truly a wonderful sight to see that young man — 
yesterday a boy — handle his machine in so skilful and graceful a 
manner; now low, over his home, as if to assure his mother; now 
over the college, as if he would shout a "hello" ; then soaring to an 
invisible height. Charles James, his older brother, we feel to in- 
clude in our list of serving boys, although he never attended But- 
ler. There are ties besides those of kinship. The influence of Mary 
James Jacobs, '14, was strong enough and lasting enough to bind 
her whole family to our college. Charles has been a year in France 
and has been gassed twice. The sympathy of the whole community 
has gone out to the anxious parents. 



Personal Mention 245 

The Freshman class shows the following genealogy: A grand- 
daughter of W. W. Leathers, '60 — Zelda Wallace Clevenger; a 
daughter of Major W. W. Daugherty, '61— Maria Matilda; a son 
of T. W. Grafton, '80— Warren ; a daughter of Omar Wilson, '87— 
Dorothy; a son of James B. Pearcy, '88 — William Thomas; a 
daughter of Thomas C. Howe, '89, and Jennie Armstrong Howe, 
'89 — Charlotte; a daughter of Alex. Jameson and Julia Graydon 
Jameson, '90— Lydia; a son of Elva Bass Yarling, ex — Maurice 
Bass; a daughter of Benjamin Davis, ex — Dorothy; a daughter 
of R. F. Davidson, '91, and Mary Galvin Davidson, '94 — Margaret; 
a daughter of H, L. Herod, '03 — Henrietta. 

Wednesday, October 2, was observed as the formal opening of 
college. At 10 o'clock the crowded chapel greeted the faculty in 
academic dress. The program consisted of "America," sung by 
all; prayer offered by Dr. Morro; vocal solo, "Goodbye, Summer" 
(Tosti), rendered by Mrs. Everett C. Johnson; a brief talk by Dr. 
Clarence L. Reidenbach; announcements by Dr. Coleman; the ad- 
dress of the occasion by President Howe (given elsewhere) ; solo, 
"When the Boys Come Home," by Mrs. Johnson ; the singing by the 
audience of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic"; the benediction 
pronounced by Dr. Hall. In the afternoon the faculty and their 
wives received the students from 4 to 6 at the home of President 
and Mrs. Howe. 

He used to be known as "Red" Bonham when he played a star 
game of football on the Butler campus three and four years ago. 
Now he is Major Carlos Bonham, of the Fifteenth Field Artillery 
of the second division. He has just returned from France, where, 
until after the middle of August, he was hotly engaged in heavy 
fighting in which the second division participated. This was the 
division that came to the relief of the French in the nick of time 
at Chateau Thierry. Major Bonham gives the credit to the marines 
and infantry of his division for the overpowering success of the 
Americans, and says that the artillery made it possible for them to 
advance. He has been sent to this country to give instruction in 
training camps, and is now at Camp Travis, Texas. Alajor Bon- 
ham's brother, "Tow" Bonham, ex-' 18, is a first lieutenant of the 



246 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Seventh Field Artiller>' in the first division. These two divisions 
for a time fought side by side; but the two brothers were never 
able to meet in the year that they have been in France. Major Bon- 
ham spoke several times while in Indianapolis of the eager spirit 
of the young American fighters as they go into action against Ger- 
man machine gunners, "The men are often too eager to get at the 
Germans," he said, "and as a result get in front of their own bar- 
rage. Americans back home would feel proud if they could see 
those young fellows, many of them under twenty-one years old, 
going into action against the Hun. I regard the Germans as good 
fighters and have found that many of them are brave men. They 
are not beaten yet, and I believe the American public should know 
that. Many of the German prisoners showed they were glad to be 
captured but others, especially officers, were surly and arrogant." 

When the influenza struck the college unit, an infirmary was im- 
provised on Ritter avenue, back of the drug store. A vacant build- 
ing was hastily cleaned and placed in order by college folk and 
friends ; beds and bedding, stove and cooking utensils and an ice- 
box, with the furnishings for sick trays ; soup and fresh eggs and 
jelly and other things to add comfort were speedily forthcoming. 
The mothers of the community responded as if their own boys 
were lying there. Three professional nurses were secured; the 
ordering was done by Mrs. F. R. Kautz of the Red Cross ; the cook- 
ing was done by Jane Graydon, '87, who merrily kept the boys from 
homesickness; while Professor McGavran and Professor and Mrs. 
Putnam were frequently present to lend a helping hand and to cheer, 
as were Mr. H. U. Brown, Mr. Howe and others. There were cared 
for during the epidemic thirty-eight boys, all recovering. 



Marriages 



Atherton-Mitchell. — On April 13, at Schenectady, New York, 
were married Russell Atherton, ex-'14, and Miss Cornelia J. 
Mitchell. Mr. and Mrs. Atherton are living at New London, Con- 
necticut. 

Agnew-Adams. — On July 15, at Indianapolis, were married Mr. 
Ralph L. Agnew, '18, and Miss Elsie F, Adams. Mr. and Mrs. 
Agnew are living in Irvington. 

Tibbott-Brewer. — On August 11, at Newton Center, Massa- 
chusetts, were married Mr. David Watts Tibbott, ensign of the 
United States Naval Reserve Force, and Miss Dorothy Brewer. 
The groom is the younger son of Mr. and Mrs. E. F. Tibbott, of 
Germantown, Pennsylvania, former students of Butler College, 
and long its loyal friends. 

Stevens-Davis. — On August 13, at New York City, were mar- 
ried Dr. John Egbert Stevens and Miss Margaret Davis, ex-'15. 

Bosart-Reed. — On September 9, at Wilmington, North Carolina, 
were married Sergeant Russell S. Bosart and Miss Helen Margaret 
Reed, '18. Sergeant Bosart is stationed with the artillery at Fort 
Caswell, where Mrs. Bosart will remain until marching orders come. 

Bradley-Banes. — On September 10, were married at the bride's 
home in Indianapolis, Lieutenant Clark H. Bradley, ex-'20, and 
Miss Gladys Lillian Banes, '20. Lieutenant Bradley has sailed 
overseas in the tank corps and Mrs. Bradley has returned to her 
home and to finish her course at college. 

Bonham-Sprague. — On October 5, at the Second Presbyterian 
Church of San Antonio, Texas, Major Carlos W. Bonham, ex-'16, 
and Miss Beth Sprague were married. ]\Iajor Bonham is stationed 
at Camp Travis, Texas, where he is in command of the 53d Infantry. 
Mrs. Bonham is engaged in Red Cross work at Fort Sam Houston 
Base Hospital near Camp Travis. 



Births 

Newlin. — On May 1, at Clinton, Iowa, to Mr. Ivan Newlin and 
Mrs. Melissa Seward Newlin, '12, a son — Willard Seward. 

Jordan. — To Mr. William Jordan and Mrs. Hortense Winks 
Jordan, ex-' 18, at Rensselaer, Indiana, on May 26, a daughter — 
Mary Acenoth. 

Peterson. — To Mr. Raymond F. Peterson, '20, and Mrs. Georgia 
Fillmore Peterson, '16, at Indianapolis, a daughter — Margaret 
Frances. 

M.^NCHESTER. — To Mr. Burgess Manchester and Mrs. Margery 
Hopping Manchester, ex-'20, at Terre Haute, Indiana, on August 
18, a daughter — Margery. 

Marshall. — To Dr. Thomas Marshall and Mrs, Lucile Carr 
Marshall, '08, at Charlestown, Indiana, on September 11, a son — 
Wilford Carr. 

Lewis. — To Lieutenant Joseph Edwin Lewis, ex-'15, and Mrs. 
Marie Peacock Lewis, '15, at Indianapolis, on September 22, a 
daughter — Betty Marie. 



Deaths 

"Leaves have their time to fall. 
And flowers to wither at the north-wind's breath. 
And stars to set; but all. 
Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death !" 

KiDD. — The Quarterly has received the following card: "With 
deep sorrow, Kidd Drawn Steel Company, Aliquippa, Pennsylvania, 
announce the death of their president, Mr. Walter Scott Kidd, on 
Thursday, June the twentieth, nineteen hundred and eighteen." 

Mr. Kidd belonged to the late '70's and by the students of that 
time is remembered most pleasantly. 



Deaths 249 

Garvin. — On the honor roll of the gifted men who have graced 
the faculty of Butler College must be placed the name of Professor 
Hugh Carson Garvin. 

He was born at Chillicothe, Ohio, February 8, 1844. He died 
at Eldon, Missouri, July 12, 1918. From 1905 until the time of 
his death he was pastor of the Eldon Congregational Church. He 
was a student in Bethany College and Miami University and spent 
two years in the universities of Germany and France. For six 
years he taught English in the government school at Munich, 
Germany. 

At Butler College he was professor of German and French from 
1881 to 1889. In 1889 the first Butler Bible School was estab- 
lished with Professor Garvin as dean. The course of study cov- 
ered four years, the requirement for admission being that for the 
junior year in college. The work was largely the translation and 
critical study of the text. This covered the entire New Testa- 
ment in Greek and a very large part of the Old Testament in 
Hebrew. This school called together a group of young men who 
became very much attached to their teacher. Some combined the 
work with the college course while to many it was post-graduate 
work. 

When Professor Garvin resigned in 1896 the Bible school was 
discontinued. After this he gave himself largely to study and lit- 
erary work. In 1908 he issued the book, "What the Bible Teaches," 
a work which attracted the attention of biblical students throughout 
the land. 

Professor Garvin was a linguist of rare attainments. He was 
master of Hebrew, Greek, and Latin. He spoke German and 
French as readily as he did English. Spanish and Italian were 
also at his command. His skill was exerted not so much in the 
literary as in the technical study of language. In this he had few 
equals in this country. 

In the study of the Bible he delighted to compare the different 
texts, and raced his students through the various versions of the 
ancient tongues. The text was his hobby. Not to study about the 
Bible but to study the Bible was his aim. His theology was biblical 
rather than systematic. His work as an exegete classed him as a 



250 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

lower rather than a higher critic. He spent little time on ques- 
tions of introduction. He seldom entered the field of apologetics. 
As compared with the modern rationalistic point of view, Professor 
Garvin was a conservative. To get at the spiritual purport of the 
Scriptures was his delight. The fundamental principles of the 
Gospel he expounded in an illuminating, rational, and scriptural 
fashion. 

Professor Garvin was noted for his Industry. No student under 
him studied so hard as he. He was simple in speech as in man- 
ner of life. The arts of the orator were not his. He staked all 
on the naked truth. He could suflFer for conscience' sake, but he 
was a stranger to the tricks of diplomacy, nor would he have yield- 
ed to them though it had given him a whole college for his very 
own. He combined the rare gifts of scholarship and piety, of 
courage and humanity, of rugged honesty and charity. 

The "boys" who are scattered wide will recall the happy hours 
when "the old man" in frock coat, with black beard and pompadour 
hair, walked back and forth in his classroom and expounded to 
them the mysteries of the kingdom. As one of them, let me bear 
witness that I have traveled far and I would not give what I got 
from H. C. Garvin for all I ever got from any man I ever met. 

B. F. Dailey, '87. 

Kennington. — Lieutenant Robert E. Kennington, ex-'15, was 
killed in action on August 8. To his stricken parents The Quarterly 
sends tender sympathy. 

Robert E. Kennington, who died fighting valiantly for his coun- 
try on August 8, 1918, was an Indianapolis boy. He was the only 
son of Mr. and Mrs. Ralph E. Kennington, 2344 College avenue. 
In 1917, when the first call came for volunteers, and before the 
draft law was passed, Robert E. Kennington joined the first Of- 
ficers' Training Camp at Fort Harrison. He cam6 out of that 
school with the rank of second lieutenant. He was immediately 
sent to the training camp to be prepared for overseas duty. In 
the early spring of 1918 he went "Over There." On account of 
his gallantry and ability he was soon promoted to the first lieu- 
tenancy of his regiment and lost his life in leading his company 



Deaths 251 

in the battle of Chateau Thierry. No details of his death have yet 
come to his parents, but those who knew Robert best know that 
he died at his post doing his duty bravely. He was twenty-five 
years of age and a young man of much promise. He was bright, 
clean, and courageous. He attended Butler College, and gradu- 
ated from the Central Law School, of Indianapolis, and was just 
entering the practice of law when the call for troops came. 

He had numerous friends who mourn his loss, but who rejoice 
in the fact that he gave his all for his country willingly and cour- 
ageously. He was one of the first to go; others doubtless will fol- 
low, and, while his parents and friends will mourn his loss, they 
have the satisfaction of knowing that he met a hero's death with 
unfaltering courage. His life was full of promise and his untimely 
death was inexpressibly sad. He will be long remembered as hav- 
ing met a hero's death. Joseph B. Kealing, '79. 

Following is a memorial to Lieutenant Kennington, written by 
Charles W. Moores, ex-'82, and adopted by the Indianapolis Bar 
Association : 

"Lieutenant Kennington is the first Indianapolis lawyer to lay 
the 'costly sacrifice' of his life with its joy and promise, 'upon the 
altar of freedom.' 

"We of the profession whose ideals and whose duties were dear 
to him adopt this memorial to a brave young soldier who left his 
chosen profession to answer the call to the colors, and who gave 
his life that civilization might be made secure, and that happiness 
might become possible for all humanity. 

"Robert Kennington was a thorough student of the law, on the 
threshold of a professional career that gave promise of high achieve- 
ment. Unusual personal charm endeared him to those with whom 
he came in contact and won for him a host of friends. His ambi- 
tion to succeed did not tempt him selfishly to crowd ahead of others. 
Straightforward, manly ways, kindliness toward others, a winning 
smile that made one glad even for the most casual meeting, .are 
qualities that we recall. To these should be added the high ideals 
that took him so quickly into his country's service, enabled him to 
face death and give 'the last full measure of devotion' to the cause 
to which his life was pledged. 



252 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

"Most bar memorials tell the story of men who after long years 
of professional activity have been called to die, and it has been 
our lot at such meetings to recount the successes of our elders who 
have been faithful to the ideals of a great profession. Now our 
task is heavy with an unwonted sorrow. Robert Kennington's 
career at the bar was like his career in arms, all too brief. At 
the bar it was full of promise ; in arms a single month brought 
immortality. The torch he so bravely held aloft he has thrown 
to us that in his spirit we, too, may hold it high. 

"It is his happy lot to be remembered always as one who by way 
of splendid death has entered into eternal youth." 

Elliott. — Lieutenant Kenneth Victor Elliott, '20, died in France 
on August 31 of wounds received in action. The Quarterly sends 
deep sympathy to the parents in Sheridan, Indiana, for this keen 
though glorified sorrow. Kenneth was the second of eight sons, 
the oldest of four in the United States service. 

The Red Cross nurse who attended him has written Mr. and 
Mrs. Elliott : "Everything possible was done to save his life, but 
the infection had done its deadly work before he had received first 
aid. The doctors did everything possible that he might live. One 
young man gave a portion of his blood to try to save him. The 
funeral took place at 3 p. m., September 2, and was strictly mili- 
tary. He was very brave and his duties in military service were 
always with him. He had a friend, Lieutenant Hernandez, who 
was allowed in the room for a few minutes every day." 

Kenneth Elliott came to college in September, 1917, after hav- 
ing served four years in the navy. This service was followed by an 
extended tour of England, South Africa, and Australia. While 
here he took a prominent part in college activities, especially foot- 
ball and dramatics, and was an unusual all-'round favorite. In 
the spring he joined the first Officers' Training Camp at Fort Ben- 
jamin Harrison, from which he received his commission. He was 
stationed at several eastern camps before going across. 

We give elsewhere an article from his pen which appeared in 
The Butler Collegian of March 10, 1917. His words are read to-day 
with a new significance. 

A tribute is paid to Lieutenant Elliott by Meredith Nicholson in 



Deaths 253 

his new book, "The Valley of Democracy." Mr. Nicholson met 
the lieutenant on a train on the way to Washington. The officer 
made such an impression that the writer used the recollection of the 
talk in his book to tell of the fine types of young men attracted to 
serve the country in war. Mr. Nicholson says : 

"The West has no monopoly of courage or daring, but it was 
reassuring to find that the best blood of the Great Valley thrilled 
to the cry of the bugle. On a railway train I fell into talk with 
a young officer of the national army. Finding that I knew the 
president of the Western college that he had attended, he sketched 
for me a career which, in view of his twenty-six years, was almost 
incredible. At eighteen he had enlisted in the navy in the hope of 
seeing the world, but had been assigned to duty as a hospital orderly. 
Newport had been one of his stations ; there and at other places 
where he had served he had spent his spare hours in study. When 
he was discharged he signed papers on a British merchant vessel. 
The ship was short-handed and he was enrolled as an able seaman, 
which, he said, was an unwarranted compliment, as he proved to 
the captain's satisfaction when he was sent to the wheel and nearly 
(as he put it) bowled over a lighthouse. His voyages had carried 
him to the Orient and the austral seas. After these wanderings 
he was realizing an early ambition to go to college when the war- 
drum sounded. He had taken the training at an officers' reserve 
camp and was on his way to his first assignment. The town he 
mentioned as his home is hardly more than a whistling-point for 
locomotives, and I wondered later, as I flashed through it, just what 
stirring of the spirit had made its peace intolerable and sent him 
roaming." 

Stainsby. — On September 20 died in Indianapolis, George, the 
infant son of Claude V. Stainsby, '17, and Mrs. Stainsby. 

"He took the cup to drink, 
Too bitter 'twas to drain, 
He merely touched it to his lips 
And placed it down again." 

The Quarterly sends to Mr. and Mrs, Stainsby its sincere 
sympathy. 



254 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Leukhardt. — Sergeant Henry R. Leukhardt, ex-' 12, died of 
pneumonia on October 2, at Camp Pike, Arkansas. To his father, 
sister, and brothers The Quarterly sends its sincere sympathy. 

Henry (who does not hold him in memory as "Heiny"?) entered 
college the autumn of 1908. He was a fine type of athlete and 
played a star game at football. A year ago he enlisted and was 
attached to the aviation corps. All the energy and fire and skill 
of football were turned into this far nobler game. 

A recent letter is so characteristic, not only of Heiny, but also 
of the spirit of many boys, that we give a few sentences : "What 
I want most of all is a chance to go across. I would be a fine big 
'boob' when it's all over over there and never to have my hand 
in it. I know that there is such a thing as doing my bit here at 
home, but I'm full of the old pep and want to let it out where it 
will do some good. Also, I want a chance at a commission, as I 
feel capable of making good." 

The longed-for commission arrived the afternoon before his 
death, but he never knew it. Promotion and the call for higher 
service have come. "My ways are not your ways, saith the Lord." 

Robinson. — On October 3, at Cambridge, Massachusetts, died 
of influenza, Daniel Sommer Robinson, Jr., only child of D. Som- 
mer Robinson, '10, and Mrs. Robinson, at the age of four years. 

The love bestowed upon little Dan, the hope and joy and pride 
wrapped in him, had reached us here at the college, and in some 
way, perhaps, we realize the crushing effect of the blow. Not 
greater sorrow could have come to the parents, but by the grace 
of God and the strength of their own souls they will walk on and 
face their mutilated future like war-heroes. Our tender sympathy 
goes out to them. 

Ayres. — Alexander Craigmile Ayres, '68, died in Indianapolis 
on October 12, at the age of seventy-two years. 

Since going to press the news of Judge Ayres' death has reached 
the college. In its next issue The Quarterly will have more to say 
of this worthy alumnus, able lawyer, honorable citizen. 



Our Correspondence 

Mrs. Raymond F. Horton (Ethel Woody, '07) : It is good to 
know that the love of Butler follows her children even to so re- 
mote a place as Panama City. We came down to Florida at the 
end of July and expect to be here all winter. We are on beautiful 
St. Andrews Bay. Our house is on the beach road, so that the 
blue water lies at our very feet. We have enjoyed the bathing and 
fishing almost from the moment of our arrival. Trips in our motor 
boat are classed among the big events in our calendar. 

Mr. Horton is with the same company, building shipyards and 
ships in connection with the American Lumber Company. So well 
have they infused "pep" into the native laborers that they were 
able to lay the first keel at the end of the third month. To use 
the Florida expression, we feel as if they had done "a right smart." 

My chubby babies are grown so big that one of them is going to 
school and reading in a primer. The little girl will be five to- 
morrow. To them Florida is one big, happy sand pile, and the bay 
the nicest, warmest puddle they ever splashed in. * * * 

Some day I surely will return to Butler, even if I have to appear 
as all sorts of a "has-been." It is wonderful to think that always 
the faces of youth will fill the dim old halls, but it gives me a pang 
when I think, should I happen to return, that I would know abso- 
lutely none of them. Those who happen to become famous dur- 
ing their absence are awarded an introduction and a seat on the 
platform ; but I have no grounds on which to claim for myself such 
distinction. The tie that really binds us and compels us to return 
is a lingering hope that a few people still care for us and would be 
glad to see us. We like to feel that we are remembered and live 
on in the happy thought that it is so. The Quarterly sustains this 
belief and every time we read it, we have warm little thrills in our 
hearts just as we did in the days when one of you professors wrote 
"Good" on our manuscripts. 

My kindest regards to old friends. 

Mrs. Philip C. Lewis (Katharine Jameson, '16), Camp Shelby: 
The other day I was settling my accoutrements for an afternoon of 



256 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

letter-writing when a soldier brought me a note from Phil. He was 
drilling a few hundred yards from our house and desired a drink 
of lemonade. So I fixed a thermos bottle full, took it to the edge 
of the battlefield and opened a self-appointed canteen. When Phil 
had his share, Edgar Good ran up for a drink, raised his glass, and 
said, "Here's to Butler College !" That would make a touching 
little tale for The Quarterly, if it could be transferred to the edge 
of No-Man's Land. 

Do you like the booklet of selections from Browning sent out to 
the soldiers by the Browning Society ? Surely there is no one whose 
philosophy more amply and healthfully fits these times than his. 
And I keep thinking how, his own line changed from Burns and 
Shelley to himself, he "watches from his grave" and feels the pulse 
of a Titan age. I am sorry he is not alive. If I had been com- 
piling the little book, I should have included for war-brides Pom- 
pilia's last address to Caponsacchi, for the army is full of our 
"soldier saints." 

We have been reading aloud in whatever rare moments we could 
snatch. Sunday we read "The Spirit of Lafayette" by James Mott 
Hallowell. By myself I have read "The Return of the Native," a 
history of New Orleans, "Evan Harrington," Coningsby Daw- 
son's latest "Out to Win," Alden Brooks's "The Fighting Men," 
and rather minutely the Book of Psalms. It has not been unpatri- 
otic for me to read, for I have discovered that I can knit and read 
at the same time with advantage to both processes. I like to think 
that I may have knit into my socks some of Coningsby Dawson's 
gallant thoughts. He helps me more than any war writer I have 
read. He turns the bitterness sweet by his own strong sight of 
the religion of heroism. In his last book, if you have not read it, 
is a most beautiful picture of Domremy and an American soldier 
who haunted Joan's birthplace like a pilgrim at a shrine. He honors 
America by giving her help in this war the same place that Joan 
of Arc's service filled in that other war. 

By the way, speaking of noble expressions, I read this morning 
the comment of a Spanish newspaper upon the speech of an Amer- 
ican general. I do not know who the fortunate man was who could 
express in one little sentence America's complete casting-off of 



Our Correspondence 257 

gain: "When we return to our country we shall do so empty- 
handed; we shall take nothing back but the ashes of our dead." 

Newton C. Browder, '16: For two years I have been attend- 
ing the Harvard Medical School. Last January the Government 
had all medical students enlisted in the Medical Reserve Corps, 
so that they could finish their course. There seems to be a great 
shortage of doctors, and the Government does not want us drafted. 
It seems as if our four years would never end. It makes one feel 
almost like a slacker, when he knows all the other boys have gone. 
Some of the medical students have enlisted anyway, against the 
advice of the authorities; and often I feel that I cannot stay out 
of the war any longer. However, for my mother's sake, I feel that 
I ought to wait, as Clififord and Maurice are in it. I am enlisted 
and my oldest brother is soon to enlist on the Pacific coast. 

Clifford graduated from the Chicago Law School in June, 1917. 
For nine months he was a struggling young lawyer in the great city 
of Chicago. As he began to succeed, the draft law came. Know- 
ing that he would be drafted in the summer of 1918, he decided 
to enlist in a branch of the service to his liking. He chose the Naval 
Officers' Training Corps at a Chicago pier. In six weeks he ex- 
pected to be sent to Annapolis, but the Government changed its 
plan and sent him to Cleveland. Now I understand he is to be sent 
East for training. 

Maurice has beefi for the last two years at the Annapolis Naval 
Academy. This summer he is convoying transports across. I do 
not know where he is, but when I last heard he was down in Vir- 
ginia. He writes that the "sub" caused him to lose his roommate, 
who was on a torpedoed boat. 

What little I have seen of Boston and Eastern people I like, but 
I do not have much time to cultivate their acquaintance on account 
of my studies. The Government lays down the rules of "No con- 
ditions." Not only that, but you have to swear you have enough 
money to complete your next year at the beginning of each 
year i * ♦ * 

I do not dare to let myself think too much about the dear old 
college and my friends, becavise I get so lonely. The Butler 



258 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Alumnal Quarterly gives me great satisfaction, especially the let- 
ters from "the boys." How their personal traits stand out ! "Tow" 
would never have to sign his name, nor would John Kautz. Surely 
the paper makes all the boys feel there is somebody back home 
who cares. 

I suppose "Prexy" is the same "Prexy" as when I was there. 
Please remember me to all my friends. 

William A. Holliday, D. D., ex-'60, Plainfield, New Jersey: 
I find so much of interest in The Quarterly that I wish to be put 
on the list of subscribers. I note in the commencement number 
the address of Dr. Mackenzie. I happen to have some acquaintance 
with him; used to give instruction in the seminary of which he 
is president, but ceased to do so about the time he was called there. 
This address, as all he does, reads well. 

Then as to information of men of about my own time, there are 
the deaths of Avery and Brevoort. I remember Denny, who writes 
of the latter, quite well ; but had wholly forgotten Brevoort himself. 
Avery's family lived across the street from us. 

Alumna: You will be interested to know that while we were 
in Nashville, returning from the South, we called on Dr. Carey 
E. Morgan, '83. We found him very cordial, the same kind of 
gracious, serious, afifectionate cordiality that endears Mr. Hilton 
Brown to us all. Mrs. Morgan, '84, I had not seen since I was a 
child. We found her the handsome matron in her home. Two 
sons are in war service. Their youngest child, a daughter, a chip 
off the paternal block, was recently married and lives at home. 
Dr. Morgan had just ofifered himself for several months of war 
service to the Y. M. C. A. and was planning to leave soon. 

We were told that he was greatly beloved in his community, was 
held reverently by his congregation. It was no unusual thing for 
him to fill the pulpit in a Catholic church or a Jewish synagogue. 
Recently when Nashville was seriously threatened by a street-car 
strike, he was chosen as the one man to mediate between the two 
forces. He cleared up the affair and was presented with a hand- 
some gold watch by the employees of the company. 



Our Correspondence 259 

We heard several pretty stories like this of him : "Last Sunday 
when in Nashville, I went to Dr. Morgan's church. While the con- 
gregation was singing a hymn, Dr. Morgan came down from the 
pulpit and shook hands with me, saying, 'I always greet the soldier- 
boy when he comes to us.' I could see after he had returned to his 
place that he knew who I was. As he passed down the aisle, after 
the sermon, he said, 'I want to see you before you leave the church.' 
When through with the others, he came to me with hand extended 
(I had to slip him the Sigma Chi grip) and said, 'Boy, your father 
is one of my dearest friends. God bless you !' " 

Robert W. Buck, '14 (student of medicine in Boston) : The 
Quarterly is always welcome, and especially during the war, though 
I cannot say that its perusal tends to calm the restlessness of us 
stay-at-homes (at least for the present) when we read of all the 
wonderful things the boys are up to. Did you ever hear of such a 
small number of persons doing such a variety of hair-raising things 
all over the world at once ! Butlerites are surely born to rove and 
to meet adventure. 

Omar Wilson, '87: The last issue of The Quarterly has come 
and has been eagerly read. It is such a treat and I am so grateful 
for it. * * * I'm especially glad that there can be placed in it 
the names of so many alumni and former students who visit the 
college and campus. Year by year the list of (to me) unknown 
names grows longer, yet there always are many whom I know and 
am glad to read of. The record of names of those appearing on 
the campus on commencement day was one of the pleasantest 
things in the paper. Every one who reads it must fancy himself 
among the glad throng. The Friendship Circle ! I'm so glad of 
it for Miss Noble's sake. Who conceived it? Rose MacNeal or 
Vida Tibbott. I'll guess. For those of us who cannot come back 
The Alumnal Quarterly is an especial blessing. Of course you 
must print and wish to print and ought to print the longer papers — 
baccalaureate sermon, commencement address, etc., but don't ever 
give up the personal mention. We read the essays and forget them, 
but we forget not the dear ones we've known there. 



260 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

What good letters the boys write — Hilton and John Kautz ! A 
volume of Tuck's would hustle John's book to keep up. I have 
"Trucking to the Trenches," — sent it to my boy Ralph shortly be- 
fore he started to France. Have not heard from him for many 
weeks. He may be in this great drive. In the casualty list one night 
I read the name "Ralph Wilson," but on the next line was the ad- 
dress of New York City, and I breathed again. * * * 

I am sending Ralph's letter for you to see, as you ask. He is up 
against the "real thing" and tells his experience in his own boyish 
way. Since reading it I never feel content to go to bed. I want to 
go out and "sleep in the rain and mud" and so imagine I am worthy 
those youngsters who "for our to-morrow are giving their to-day." 

R. A. MacLeod, '14, Batang, Tibet : There is very serious trou- 
ble here now. For some years the Chinese have been encroaching 
on the Tibetan territory. Now the Tibetans have turned tables and 
are driving the Chinese back as fast as the Chinese can retreat. It 
would be more exact to say that the Tibetans have taken everything 
so far, including the Chinese soldiers. The Tibetan army is now 
sixty miles from Batang and have instructions to take all the region 
west of Tachienlu. This they can easily do. They have a well- 
trained army of several thousands and all armed with modern En- 
field rifles (the kind the British use) and plenty of ammunition 
and several cannon. They were on the way to take Batang when 
the Chinese officials sent Dr. Shelton to arrange a truce in order 
to discuss peace terms. In this matter he was successful. A truce 
of two months was arranged. The Tibetans will surely win out; 
and if the Chinese don't come to terms they will take Batang and 
all they want. The Tibetan general is a capable man ; his troops 
are well-trained and crack shots. They drill in English style. One 
of them is equal to ten Chinamen. In case Batang is taken, the 
Tibetan general promised to protect the foreigners, that is, the 
missionaries. 

While Dr. Shelton was on this mission to the Tibetan general, 
the latter sent a letter to the Dalai Lama at Lhassa and asked that 
Dr. Shelton be permitted to open a hospital at Lhassa. A favorable 
reply is expeced shortly. 



Our Correspondence 261 

Tell me something about the war. Don't say anything that would 
offend the censor or I won't get the letter, which would be a calam- 
ity, I'm sure. 

Mrs. Hugh Garvin writes to an alumnus : The church has asked 
me to stay on here at the Doctor's regular salary. They are doing 
everything they can to keep me, but I do not think that would be best. 
I have accepted a position to teach Latin and French in Proctor, 
Minnesota. Wilhelmina will teach in Chester, Pennsylvania. I 
would not deprive Dr. Garvin of the luxury of being free from his 
crippled body and near the Christ whom I think he understood better 
than the average man, still I am terribly lonely. 



Notice 

With all the financial demands of the day, do not forget your 
annual alumni fee. The Quarterly is dependent upon it. Send 
one dollar to the alumni treasurer, 

Carl Van Winkle, 
Butler College, Indianapolis. 




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Butler Alumnal 
Quarterly 



JANUARY, 1919 
Vol. VII No. 4 



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INDIANAPOLIS 



Entered as second-class matter March 26, 1912, at the post 
office at Indianapolis, Ind., under the Act of March 3, 1879 



Butler College 

1[A11 Departments of the College are 
under competent instructors. 

TfConveniently and pleasantly located 
in the attractive suburb of Irvington, it 
offers superior inducements to those 
desiring collegiate education. 

^Information freely furnished on appli- 
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1[ Address President of Butler College, 
Indianapolis, Indiana. 



I with uncovered head 

Salute the sacred dead, 

Who went, and who return not. Say not so ! 
****** 

to the saner mind 

We rather seem the dead that stayed behind. 

Blow, trumpets, all your exultations blow ! 

For never shall their aureoled presence lack ; 

I see them muster in a gleaming row, 

With ever-youthful brows that nobler show; 

We find in our dull road their shining track; 

In every nobler mood 
We feel the orient of their spirit glow, 
Part of our life's unalterable good. 
Of all our saintlier aspiration ; 

They come transfigured back, 
Secure from change in their high-hearted ways, 
Beautiful evermore. 

Lowell. 



Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Vol. VII INDIANAPOLIS, IND., JANUARY, 1919 No. 4 



Lest We Forget 

By Julia Graydon Jameson, '90 

I am not a pessimist. I have a deal of faith in the nobility of 
human nature, and yet I have reason to believe in its selfishness 
and its love of self-indulgence. 

I feel that we did stand on the brink of an abyss and knew it 
not, because we were sated and intoxicated by the love of pleasure 
and ease and indulgence. We were where the Roman stood before 
his fall ; our "paths dropped fatness" ; we ate, drank, and were 
merry, forgetting that to-morrow we die; we had placed other 
gods before Him; we worshipped the golden calf — wealth and all 
that it buys; in the things of the body (particularly if it be our own 
body) we revelled, and we honored him who could revel more 
than we ; we closed our eyes to sins that are abhorrent in the sight 
of God, and glossed over and excused shortcomings that we nursed 
in our hearts, all of us. 

"But when the bugles sounded — War! 
We put our games away." 

All that was magnificent in man surged to the surface, his sins 
fell from him as dried cuticle, parched by fever. He was reborn, 
baptized by fire, the dross of his soul consumed; the flabby mus- 
cles of indulgence tightened and grew tense with use; his spirit. 
stripped before his God, stands glorified. He has walked the heights 
his Master trod in Calvary ; he has radiantly given his life for oth- 
ers, his all, himself; he has given as humbly, as selflessly, as the 
Nazarene. 



266 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

God has saved us from ourselves ! Not easily, but in the travail 
of our souls. 

Thank Heaven ! a day of serious vein is upon us. The love of 
being witty, no matter at whose expense, the joy of being accounted 
funny and clever, even though it be at the sacrifice of things sacred, 
has been the ruling passion and the criterion by which one was 
judged. But this earthquake that has wrenched and torn the world 
and humanity has brought us down to the bedrock of serious thought 
again. The question often comes to our minds, no doubt, and some- 
times to our lips — for how long have we learned our lesson. Has it 
hit us hard enough to be abiding ? We have not yet parted with our 
precious ones, we have not seen our sacred hearthstones ravaged, 
we have eaten a comfortable substitute bread and have gone without 
bacon, but is it burned into our souls ? Is it not timely to pause for 
a few minutes and put into words what is revolving in our minds, 
that we may plant deep in our souls some of the lessons of those 
awful and glorious days? Lest we forget anything that may be of 
profit to humanity in exchange for the mammoth price that has been 
paid ! 

I approach this subject reverently, with head uncovered and latch- 
ets unloosed. The price that has been paid is life, the flower of our 
lands has marched out blithely and with song on their lips to meet the 
Great Adventure, to pay the ultimate toll, if need be, for their ideals. 
In the quiet, in the aloneness, in the sorrow of it all, we are left to 
gather out of this chaos some new ideals that will stand the shock. 
Unworthy things must be lost in the shuffie. 

In the first place, let us think of some of the lessons that Ger- 
many, under her Prussian leadership, has to teach us. Booth Tark- 
ington, in a recent article in "The American," embodies some of the 
thoughts that have been running in my mind. Let us be absolutely 
honest with ourselves. Are we perfectly sure that we have none of 
the vanity of the Kaiser? Are we priding ourselves in any wise upon 
ancestry, blood, family, education? Those things, put where they 
belong, are on the debit side of the column, not the credit ; they are 
obligations, not a glorification. Are we sure we are not just hitting 
the high spots in our ancestry, and forgetting that every family has 
its skeleton ? 



Lest We Forget 267 

Are we in any wise the snob — servile to the man whom circum- 
stances have placed above us, and insolent to the one below ? 

Are we perfectly sure that we are free from the sin of self-r'ght- 
eousness, that we never judge God by ourselves, or point out the 
way to Him ? 

Are we sure that we always face ourselves squarely? In the 
words of Mr. Tarkington, do we ever "prettify" our sins? Do we 
always call black, black, and white, white, when it is in ourselves? 
In his words, "Wilhelm prettifies murder, killing, throat-cutting, dis- 
emboweling, rape, incendiarism, robbery, conquest, foul faith." A.re 
we sure we do not prettify the foreclosure of mortgages, or the tak- 
ing of high rentals for our property for illicit usages, or the hold- 
ing back on Liberty bonds or Red Cross ? 

Are we sure that we have bought until we are pinched, not just 
what it was comfortable to buy? Are we sure we do not prettify 
stealing by calling it "kleptomania?" Are we sure we do not call 
laziness ill-health, or do not let ourselves down easily by saying that 
our neighbor has executive ability, when she is only willing to put 
things through by dint of hard work that we are not willing to do? 

Are we sure that our conception of culture is not spelled with a K, 
that means the cultivation of the mind and not the spirit? 

Are we sure we are willing to employ the thrift and hard work 
of a German, when we want to put things through ? 

Do we always know the difference between thine and mine ? 

Are we sure we are not cultivating that higher criticism of re- 
ligion, whereby Germany began to fall? Faith is of things unseen. 
a frail and delicate fabric that cannot be handled nor dissected nor 
accounted for by rule. It is typified supremely in "the child trail- 
ing clouds of glory," fresh from the hand of God, His gift. It can 
no more be analyzed, accounted for, nor touched than the fragrance 
of a flower, or the bubble with its rainbow hues. 

Are we sure that our educational system is not subsidized, or is 
it absolutely open to the sunshine of truth ? 

This war is not wholly tragedy, nor an unalloyed evil. It has its 
compensations. We have learned tremendous lessons. Will they 
abide, or can we forget? Our boys are giving their dreams, their 
hopes, their lives for an ideal. To be worthy of them we must safe- 



268 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

guard ourselves lest we forget the lessons of the spirit, while it trod 
the wine press. 

Can it be that we can ever forget the gentle art of giving as we 
have learned it? The grace of giving some and then more and then 
more, the answer always of "ready" when the call comes. This has 
been a year of Christmas spirit, that selfless love that has encircled 
the earth. Will we ever let it grow cold? Has the lesson been 
burned into us, so that we may never return to our selfish ways 
again ? 

Several years ago organized charity tried to ask this people for a 
community fund that would take care of all charities comfortably, 
and not have to be always begging for the help His poor have a right 
to receive. Our leaders in philanthropy stood back of this and 
asked for $20,000, a mere pittance from a comfortable town like 
this. Weeks of tireless labor were spent in preparation and when 
the crucial time arrived the committees were barely able to secure 
$11,000. It Avas the man of moderate means who did it, too, as it is 
to-day. If the rich man pinched as the poor man does to-day, the 
Fourth Liberty Loan would have been oversubscribed without effort. 
Will we ever be without a War Chest, at least a chest that shall 
administer the community's philanthropy in a dignified way? Will 
we ever go back to spending so lavishly on our own comforts and 
pleasures that we can forget to blush when our own desolate and 
poor are uncared for ? 

Can we ever forget the pay we have known in real hospitality — 
the hospitality that gives the home welcome to those who need it, 
not to those who can return it. The joy of making a lonely soul 
happy for a few hours ! This generation has learned to be so selfish 
of its homes. Sacred, by all means, but for that reason the greatest 
gift when shared. Our mothers and grandmothers took in lonely 
children and gave them the blessed atmosphere of home, as well as 
education. They shared, not gave. This generation has been accus- 
tomed to give only what it did not want, and that meagerly. Lest 
we forget ! 

The biggest thing this war has asked has been the giving of self, 
not only indefatigably of the body, but of the spirit. The pam- 
pered nature, or the sharp tongue, or the quick criticism that has 



Lest We Forget 209 

held itself in check has done more than to conquer cities. They, at 
least, will never forget. They have seen a vision. 

I have the picture in my mind of one of the leaders in the Red 
Cross work — indulged, admired, beautiful, brilliant, sharp and cold 
as steel. She told me : 'Tt is my business to meet the people that 
come in from out of town to learn our organization. I take them 
over everything and explain each minutest detail, and then repeat 
it all and repeat it again. After I have talked the same things over 
and over for several hours, I feel tempted to say : T have told you 
all I know over and over again. Now you must excuse me that I 
may return to my work.' But I dare not say this. I must patiently 
go on and let the long hours of the night complete the work the day 
could not get in." Alongside of her beauty and wit, now walks 
patient sweetness. It will always flow in and around her life in 
gracious bounty, sweeping into a forgotten past her keen and cold 
brilliance. The war has fully rounded in her a royal nature. And 
she is only one. 

This generation had grown to be so complex in its living. Selfish- 
ness had made so much indulgence a necessity of our lives. For 
others, we have been able to strip it all off in the twinkling of an eye, 
for the sake of others will we not always leave it off? Lest we for- 
get that life is too sacred to be cluttered with the trumpery of living 
and the detail of form ! 

I heard a woman say this summer : "Have you not been surprised 
how much you can find in a woman sitting next to you at Red Cross, 
who is not perhaps of your class?" She, a parasite on society, ac- 
cepting what marriage brought to her and giving naught in ex- 
change ! Every drop of American blood surged v.'ithin me. Have 
we forgotten that our fathers died to wipe out that class distinction, 
that there is no aristocracy among us, but that of goodness and of 
service? But goodness is so uninteresting! the cry of ten years ago, 
not so to-day. The blase girl with streaming eyes who humbly says 
to the rough Highlander, "Please, may I touch the hand that has 
saved the world," voices the cry of to-day. The officer that binds 
the feet of his privates after a blistering hike is walking the path 
his Master trod. Down with class distinction forever ! 

Lest we forget the beauty of friendship, the glory of gratitude, 



270 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

and the dignity of righteous wrath. Everything that is sacred in 
life has been outraged and ravaged by what Kipling calls "the beast 
that walks like a man." Nothing but generations of contriteness 
can wipe out the stain of murder and crime, and no dignity can for- 
give where penitence does not ask. Two magnificent nations threw 
themselves into the breach and held the beast from us until we had 
made up our minds to hear the cry of agonizing humanity. Thou- 
sands of American lads will come home to us alive and whole be- 
cause thousands of our blood — brothers from the British Isles — have 
been killed and mutilated and have taught us how to escape. They 
rose to the rank of full military partner with France — and there is 
no higher rank. "Lest we forget !" 

A college man said in chapel a few years ago, in talking of a por- 
trait that hung on the walls, of a noble head, pierced by a rebel bullet 
in the Civil War : "The spirit of that day is dead, the modern 
youth is so pampered." At the first sound of the trumpet those same 
boys "took the khaki and the gun, instead of cap and gown. They 
gave their merry youth away for country and for God." Lest we 
forget, that patriotism must live in peace as well as war, it must al- 
ways find expression in our best effort — to serve the commonwealth, 
to lift the stranger that is within our gates, to keep down crime. 

Last winter when the thermometer was only content at ten degrees 
below zero, a boy wrote me from a Southern camp : "I must stop 
now, and break the ice on my water bucket to wash my face for 
mess," then quickly, lest I should pity him, he added: "My! but 
it puts pep in you to wash your face in ice water." This from a boy 
whose whole life had known a steam-heated home and bathrooms of 
assorted sizes. This spirit deserved that of his soldier-bride who, 
when she had seen him sail, wrote : "Do not feel sorry for me. 
Now I can share his glory." Patience ! Fortitude ! Life can never 
seem hard again. We never can forget. 

But greatest of all the lessons — the nations of the earth sit as lit- 
tle children about the knees of their Heavenly Father. As a little 
child plunges from a height with perfect faith that the strong arms 
of his father can never fail him, so the world knows that it must 
plunge into the dark unknown ; there is nothing else to do, and it has 
the sublime faith that a Father-love will uphold it that it may not 



An Appraisal of William N. Pickerill, '6o 271 

dash its foot against a stone. Religion, stripped of all its powers, is 
simply love — love that has perfect faith, that yields itself to that 
abiding care that has wrought all things in the universe, that sends 
the planets singing in their course, with whom the hairs of our 
heads are numbered, who guides the arrow in its flight, who notes 
the sparrow's fall, who doeth all things well. Lest we forget, first 
to hold His hand and walk with Him ! 

Worship must take a new shape. Forms must be lost forever. 
We who as individuals make up the church, must hear the message 
Joshua brought to the Israelites who beheld Jericho, as they awaited 
the crossing of the Jordan — "Sanctify yourselves, for to-morrow the 
Lord will do great things among you." This is our bit. 

The imperishable gift of this war is that the souls of men have 
stood stripped before God. 



An Appraisal of William N. Pickerill, '60 

By Austin Flint Denny, '62 

It would be presumptuous to assume that any reader of the 
Quarterly does not know that Butler College is a derivative of the 
North Western Christian University — a mere change of name. The 
resounding pretentious title gave place to the simpler modest one. 
In this theme we are approaching the beginning of things. For 
mere logic, some obvious things must be stated. Since brevity may 
have had its influence in the change of name, now, for mere brevity, 
will suffice the initials, N. W. C. U., tersely significant to the early 
alumni. 

N. W. C. U.'s first faculty, first curriculum of collegiate study, 
and first power to confer the learned degrees, came into existence 
in 1856. It is noteworthy that, in this first year, there were three 
graduates, two with the degree A. B., and one with B. S.. who came 
into the senior year from Bethany College — possibly to escape con- 
tact with the environing sympathy for African slavery. It is inter- 
esting to recall that, of these, one remains, and she resides near the 



272 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

college grounds. It is equally notable that for every year thereafter 
this college has had a class of graduates; that the class of '60, of 
which the subject of this sketch was a unit, was the largest in the 
first twenty-three years ; that the second class, '57, had but two 
members, of whom all trace since has been lost ; and that the class 
of '63 totalled one, of whom the president, in his baccalaureate 
address, quoting from the lioness made famous by TEsop, said : 
"We have only one, but he is a lion." 

Remarkable, in that early day, for the number of its graduates, 
fourteen, was the class of 1860. Of these, many are historically 
familiar to the recent alumni ; and William Nimon Pickerill was the 
last survivor. He passed to that inevitable bourne, November 5, 
1918, after attaining an age of more than eighty years. His life 
was varied, but modest and unobtrusive, while more than ordinarily 
successful in every particular gauged by a justifiable ambition. 

William N. Pickerill was born October 11, 1838, in Byrd town- 
ship. Brown county, Ohio, on a farm, where he worked and where 
he attained a common school education, until he was nineteen years 
old. At that age he entered the Ohio Wesleyan University, where 
he finished part of his junior year. Thence, owing to its connection 
with the Christian or Disciples' church, as well as to his respect for 
the faculty, he went to N. W. C. U. and graduated with the degree 
A. B., in June, 1860. He was a member of the Phi Delta Theta, 
then perhaps the strongest of the Greek fraternities in the college. 
After his graduation, he taught school for six months at his birth- 
place. While in college he made choice of the law as a profession, 
and there and afterward made progress in its study. He went from 
Ohio to Centerville, Indiana, and studied law with George W. 
Julian, the celebrated abolitionist and statesman. There he was 
admitted to practice law. On the call of the President for 300,000 
troops, sharing in the patriotic furore to put down the rebellion of 
the Slave States, he left Centerville, went to Indianapolis, signed 
up for membership in an infantry company then organizing, wherein 
he was billed for a sergeantcy but declined to be sworn in owing to 
an unfortunate dissention among the men of the company. He 
enlisted, however, July 18, 1861, in Company F, Third Indiana 
Cavalry, which was attached to the Army of the Potomac, and in 



An Appraisal of William N. Pickerill, '6o 273 

which he served for three years, without attaining a rank higher 
than that of corporal. He was in seventjz-one engagements, includ- 
ing the renowned battles of Antietam, Fredericksburg, Chancellors- 
ville, Gettysburg, and the Wilderness. 

After his discharge, he returned to Brown county, Ohio, formed 
a law partnership, was elected and served as mayor of Georgetown, 
stayed there until 1866, was prosperous in business, and married 
Helen Macklen, November 29, 1865. In December, 1866, he moved 
to Clinton, Henry county, Missouri, a sparsely settled and isolated 
region; practised law, was elected as prosecuting attorney of a cir- 
cuit of five counties, which election, ex officio, involved the attorney- 
ship of his home county. The region was invaded by a trunk rail- 
way to which his county made an extravagant donation of $600,000, 
and became apparently prosperous, but overreached, in both county 
and inhabitants, borrowing from Eastern capitalists at high rates 
of interest. A drought, a plague of chinch-bugs and grasshoppers 
brought financial ruin and a deluge of foreclosures. Inflated values 
were exploded, and there was a rush to sell out, on the principle of 
the devil taking the hindmost. While Mr. Pickerill was not, per- 
haps, ruinously mortgaged, he joined in the prevalent flight, sold 
his possessions at a loss and abandoned Missouri. He came to 
Indianapolis in 1875 and entered the practice of law. at which he 
was continuously engaged until his physical disability intervened, 
except for eight years of service as special examiner of the Federal 
Pension Bureau. Notwithstanding, his interest in politics and his 
previous success in political preferment, he was never an applicant 
for any local office in Indiana. 

His wife died December 23, 1879. They lived together fourteen 
years. He never remarried. Quoting his own words : "Rearing of 
our children then became my life work ; and it was with great satis- 
faction that I saw them grow into promising manhood and woman- 
hood." Of his wife he said: "She was of the purest Hfe, gentle. 
lovable, and patient ; and the labor of her life had been to make her 
home a heaven for her husband and children." 

After his children had married and left the parental domicile, he 
gave much attention to the study of English classics, while keeping 
close touch with current events and literature. He traveled, visiting 



274 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

distant parts of the United States and Canada. Governor Marshall 
appointed him to represent the State in the dedication of the monu- 
ment to Indiana soldiers and sailors on the battleground at Antietam. 
Going there in that mission, he visited Gettysburg and other battle- 
fields in which he had been concerned and returned with details of 
great interest to his comrades and friends. 

At St. Petersburg, Florida, he was struck, January 16, 1917, with 
paralysis, from which he never fully recovered. He died of blood- 
poisoning at the Methodist Hospital, Indianapolis, November 7, 
1918, while the premature jollification over the end of the world-war 
was so hysterically celebrating in Indianapolis. Had he been alive 
in full vigor, he would have rivaled the most enthusiastic in his 
delirium of joy for peace. 

His surviving children are Mrs. Harriet P. Laycock, widow, 
Zanesville, Ohio; Mrs. Robert W. (Maude) Neighbor, Oakland, 
California; Mrs. George W. (Blanch) Dickson, Indianapolis, In- 
diana ; Mrs. Esther Breeman, Oakland, California. A son and 
daughter died, without issue, after the death of his wife. 

Although he was reared in the Christian, or Disciples', church, 
and two generations of his forebears were enthusiasts in that de- 
nomination, he married a Presbyterian ; and, without dissent, "be- 
lieving," he says, "that any church founded on the teachings of the 
Holy Scriptures and which taught righteousness, was a safe guide 
for any man through life," he joined the Presbyterian church. He 
was a Mason, a Knight of Pythias, and a Son of the Revolution. 
His most important connection with any social organization was 
with the G. A. R., in which, as a member of the George H. Chapman 
Post, he was prominent, a leader, and never evaded any service 
within his reach. 

Early in his career, with infinite patience and industry, he col- 
lected the names of 2,250 descendants of his grandfather. Samuel 
Pickerill, and with pertinent facts concerning these, circulated 
among them a pamphlet, the result of his researches. 

In 1906, he wrote and published in a fine book, a "History of the 
Third Indiana Cavalry." His beautiful dedication deserves a place 
in this sketch : "To the brave men of the Third Indiana Cavalry 
who served in the Civil War, whether now living, or sleeping where 



An Appraisal of William N. Pickerill, '6o 275 

loving hands have laid them or in unknown and unmarked graves 
in Southern lands, this volume is affectionately inscribed." 

His memory stirred by his recent visit to the Southern battlefields, 
he contributed to the Quarterly for October, 1913, an interesting 
article entitled, "Gettysburg After Fifty Years." In this he incor- 
porated a description of the battle. It has been said of Victor Hugo, 
writer, not warrior, that he wrote the best description of the battle 
of Waterloo that has ever been written. For one not skilled in 
warfare to compare Pickerill's description with others of greater 
prominence would be overbold. But in that article the vividness 
of reminiscence, the spontaneity of feeling, the purity of diction, the 
musical cadence of the unpretentious periods, and the wholesome- 
ness of it all, give it a high rank as a literary production. If William 
N. Pickerill, lawyer, not writer, had not been "to fortune and to 
fame unknown," who shall say that this modest production of his 
should not take high rank as a classic ? * 

He left a manuscript in which he detailed the events of his own 
life, and of the lives of his ancestors through two generations, 
reaching a date twelve years before the end of his worldly life. The 
descendants of many an ancestor would keenly appreciate such a 
record. In his family, this manuscript should be brought down to 
"the last sad rites," while the material and the ability are available. 

For fifty-seven years he was a member of the bar and was held 
in honorable esteem. No one suspects him of dishonor or pettiness. 
He was diligent in his research both of fact and of lav\^. After his 
accustomed preparation, he was a formidable opponent in a trial. 
No higher tribute can be given a lawyer than to say, as was true 
of him, that he kept his clients. As a citizen he stood for the right, 
as he saw it. As a father, and, since he himself has said it, "as a 
mother," the highest praise is his desert. 

*The reader will pardon a slight digression. The N. W. C. U. commence- 
ment of 1863 was held three da3rs after Pickerill, unknown to the faculty and 
students, had been engaged for three days in the three days' battle of Gettys- 
burg. President Benton, in his baccalaureate address, alluding to the terrific 
losses and carnage of the Union troops as the price of their victory, so swayed 
his audience that it gave way to tears. 



iFor (tememtirance 

"Their name liveth for evermore" 

Lieutenant Hilton U. Broivn, Jr. 
Lieutenant Kenneth Victor Elliott 

Lieutenant John Charles Good 

Lieutenant Robert E. Kennington 

Sergeant Henry R. Leukhardt 

Private Harold Russell Mercer 

Sergeant Marsh W. Nottingham 

Lieutenant Bruce Pettibone Robison 

Seaman Henry Clarence Toon 



To Lieutenant Hilton U. Brown, Jr. 

Our neighbor boy, a comely lad, 

With dreams poetic in his heart, 
Left books, and college games, and sports, 

In war's wild din to bear his part ; 
He braved the menace of the deep. 

The treacherous, murderous Prussian bands ; 
His youthful soul with fervor filled 

For the oppressed in conquered lands. 

Dear neighbor boy, what glory came 

To you upon a far-off field ; 
The glory only he can know 

Who sees the hosts of darkness yield ; 
Who, soul undaunted, met the foe, 

And peaceful sleeps 'neath Argonne sod ; 
A modern knight, who raised his sword 

For Freedom, and for Freedom's God. 

Deborah Edgeworth. 
Irvington. 



From Our Soldier Boys 

'" Tis God' s voice calls ; how co2ild I stayV^ 

Lieutenant Paul V. Brown, son of Mr. and Mrs. H. U. Brown, 
wrote under date of November 8 : 

"Hilton died the way all soldiers would like to die, quickly, 
while doing his duty on the far-advanced battlefields of a great 
drive. * * * 

"He was buried shortly after he fell, in the little town of Nouart, 
not far from where he died. I am writing while we are stalled on 
the road, waiting for the bridge over the Meuse to be built, and this 
note will be forwarded by special inessenger through the courtesy of 
the Y. M. C. A. and the chaplain. 

"Always we sought each other in our spare moments. It may be 
hard to understand how two brothers could be such good chums. 
We could laugh and joke under the worst circumstances, when we 
were brought together, for it was impossible not to feel cheerful 
when Hilton was about. When one of us returned from some par- 
ticularly dangerous mission the other was waiting ; and how glad 
we were to see each other and compare notes of what we saw and 
felt when going over with the infantry. 

"It seems only the irony of fate that Hilton should have gone 
through all the dangers of these campaigns and then be killed when 
standing by his guns figuring firing data for the advance position to 
which the guns were constantly moving. I had just returned from 
the infantry. Hilton and I had lain down and slept together for a 
few hours just before the order came again to advance. I was 
bringing the battery into position when an officer, mistaking me for 
my brother, told me that he thought I had just been hit. Then I 
knew that the one dearest to so many hearts was gone. 

"I have seen and felt many things in these last terrible days ; but 
I hope that I am soldier enough to bear up and continue to do my 
duty as I know you would want me to do." 

excerpts from letters of Lieutenant Hilton U. Brown, Jr., '21 : 
. "We are getting what we came over here to get — action." 



From Our Soldier Boys 279 

"I have many good wishes for the continued success and future 
of old Butler. May her sons distinguish themselves so as to do 
credit to her name." 

"I have thought a good many times to-day of the experience [his 
horse had been killed under him], and I want to tell you that I have 
prayed to God several times, thanking Him for His mercy." 

"I have often thought of what a godsend this war has been to our 
country. * * * We will have been the gainers in the end, if it 
costs us a million men. And here is one who is willing to be of 
those, if the Germans are completely defeated and subdued, and a 
lasting peace is assured." 

"Time passes swiftly. We try to see the comedy side of every 
incident, and our battery from captain down is as cheerful a lot of 
men as one could find. War is not so bad if you do not pay too 
much attention to the horrible side of it. A laugh and a cartoon 
will help to drive the 'blues' away, and in no way contribute to the 
welfare of the enemy." 

"I have just realized that Butler College is again in session and 
am going to take the time to send my best wishes and hopes for a 
big year. We are camped out in a woods where a few days ago the 
elusive Hun pursued his mysterious and evil ways. He is a luxury- 
loving animal, the boche, — he needs must have electric lights and 
beds and rustic retreats wherein to drink his national drink, while 
we are content to do without any lights at all, to sleep in the mud 
beneath the trees, and quench our thirst with chlorinated water. 
How low and vile he must think us, — exceptionally so, now that we 
are making him travel several kilometers daily toward home and 
mother." 

"You people back there on the campus should be proud of the old 
school, for it is doing its share over here. There were not a few 
Butler boys who went over on the last offensive, and they are only 
representative of all Butler folk. We that are here are only luckier 
in that we have the best opportunity to be of immediate service." 

*T have been unlucky in that I have not met many of the 'old 
gang.' I saw Fritz Wagoner at an officers' training school in Sau- 
mur, and 'Tow' Bonham here in the regiment, but that is all." 

"I received my Butler Alumnal Quarterly just before the dri\ ^ 
opened up, but had time to read it through and enjoy it thoroughly." 



280 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

"If you have a football team this fall, please detail about a dozen 
husky young fellows to 'root' for me. I hope I am back to do my 
own cheering next year." 

From the last letter, dated October 23 : 

"They were more than five to one against us, but we were in their 
rear, and we opened a rifle and pistol barrage on them ; and when 
they did not take advantage of their numbers, we rushed them with 
bloodthirsty yells, which in my own case were much fiercer than I 
really felt. 

"I leveled my empty pistol sternly at them, and they raised their 
arms in token of surrender. Frightened as I may have been, I 
actually had to laugh, because it was so unreal and impossible. It 
was all actually as it used to be when we played war in the yard 
back home years ago — exactly the same, even down to empty pistol. 
One of the prisoners could speak a little English, so I terrorized 
him into telling the others in hot haste what I wanted them to do. 
He handed over his belt and pistol, which I hope to bring home with 
me as souvenirs. 

"In picking around the front line just after we had gained ground, 
I spied a German crouching in the underbrush. I seized my pistol, 
but when I looked at the man a second time, I saw that he was shak- 
ing with fright. I went to him and asked him why he was in hiding 
— a foolish question, but what should one say ? He did not under- 
stand English, so I tried French. This time he got my meaning and 
told me he had been wounded by shellfire and had been lying out in 
the open two days and nights. 

"He was 'fed up' on stories of what Americans did to Germans 
and so had hidden in the brush and had not been picked up by the 
first aid men. I looked him over and found he was badly injured. 
He was almost gone from loss of blood, thirst, and exposure. He 
nearly passed away when, instead of braining him, I handed him my 
canteen. Then I called stretcher bearers and food. As a token of 
gratitude he gave me the blood-soaked five-mark piece which I in- 
close. I did not think much of all this at the time, but afterward I 
felt happy to know that this poor wretch had found that the Ameri- 
can soldiers were neither cruel nor bloodthirsty." 



From Our Soldier Boys 281 

Verses by Hilton U. Brown, Jr. 

[Copy of verses found in the effects of Lieut. Hilton U. Brown.] 

Soldier dying, soldier dead, sleep undisturbed, 

No more for you the sword of red or wrath uncurbed. 

Your soul, gone to those hights above, 

To that far land of light and love, 

Is unperturbed. 

No need for you to fear hell's fire, whom duty becked. 
To fight in field and rain and mire, in cities wrecked. 
You joined the forces of the right 
To stop a demon wielding might, 
And hold him checked. 

It is that those who, holding power yet craving more, 
Did cause on earth this leaden fire of death to pour, 
Shall learn to fear far fiercer hells 
Than screaming shot and bursting shells 
Ere this life's o'er. 

For they shall hear in all their dreams by day or night. 

The widows' moans, the dying screams caused by this fight, 

And let them flee by sea or land, 

A desperate fear with burning hand. 

Will hold them tight. 

In years to come we shall not bow to brutal force. 

Your children who are helpless now will find a source 

Of power in God's own way. 

When peace and love shall both hold sway 

And run their course. 

B. Wallace Lewis, '16: 

Somewhere in France, November 2, 1918. 

I write this just after the big news of Turkey's capitulation, and 
I tell you there is some rejoicing here in France. We look for the 
fall of Austria at any hour and that will leave Germany alone to 
face the downfall she has brought upon herself. Germany is now 



282 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

where Macbeth was when he said : "Life's but an empty shadow, a 
poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then 
is heard no more." There is no future except the hell she has 
made. V\'q must not be moved to pity by the awful spectacle of the 
death of a nation's soul, because they have forfeited the right to 
pity. Ourselves and our allies have suffered too much to cry zvith 
the villain of the play — nest-ce pas? 

We are still a long way from the Front — but we are still helping 
to win the war, if only by being a part of the army the Kaiser said 
America could not raise, and if she did she could never send to 
France. We are giving moral support to the Allied cause, anyhow. 
If the present good news keeps up, we may never see the Front, 
which would be a pity. I should hate to miss seeing it after Johnny 
Kautz has been there two whole years and Paul Ragsdale one. At 
first I was afraid we would never get to France. Now I am afraid 
we will never get to the Front. Oh, well, if we were there, we 
would be anxious to get back. I believe half the psychology of the 
army is to keep the soldiers dissatisfied — then they will go anywhere. 
In the training camp in the States they chafe at inaction and want to 
see foreign service. In concentration camps in France they want to 
go to the Front. At the Front they want to go to the rest camps in 
the rear. A pretty safe bet is that a soldier always wants to be 
where he is not. But first, last, and always there is one place they 
all want to go all the time and that's home. Safe or not, wounded 
or whole, long in the service or a ninety-day wonder, they all want 
to go home. Home, the place where they treat you the best and you 
treat them the worse ; where you're at the same time the best satis- 
fied and the most discontented. The place where the voice of con- 
science is your reveille and the murmur of the inner man your mess 
call. The place where taps are determined by circumstances instead 
of the clock. The place where you can dine a la carte once in a while 
and not have a whole table d'hote thrown at you in spite of pro- 
nounced gustatory likes and dislikes. The place of luxury, leisure, 
sleep, and baths, clean towels and white sheets, carpets and chairs, 
warm rooms and running water, plumbing, silverware, friendship, 
business, music, newspapers, and pie. The place where some one cares 
if you've got wet feet, or you knock cigarette ashes on the floor. 



From Our Soldier Boys 283 

The place where you can confide in something more sympathetic 
than a bunkie who snores, or an inferior who looks down on you. 
The place where you can reach in your pocket and feel a good, hon- 
est, self-respecting one-hundred-cent American dollar instead of a 
measly and self-depreciating franc. The place where you can wear 
a white collar, duck church on Sunday. Well, now that it's all set- 
tled that home is the best place of all, let's all go there right now, 
never more to roam, never more to join the army, never more to 
grumble. 

November 5, 1918. 

The good news continues to filter through, and we are coming 
closer and closer to the end, aren't we? Perhaps, who knows, next 
Christmas may be the happiest this old world has seen for many a 
long year. Just leave it up to the Yanks. If it is humanly possible 
they'll end it by the holidays. 

For the first time since the war began I hear people talking freely 
and confidently about the end. The first year no one dared to look 
ahead ; not only was the end uncertain as to time but as to its out- 
come. The second year the same. One wondered if the belligerents 
could endure another year, but no one dared to prophesy. The third 
was very discouraging. In spite of heroism and sacrifice and appall- 
ing effort the end could not be seen. But now ! One man says next 
week, another next month, and even the most pessimistic says the 
first of the year. It was America that turned the tide. And if I 
never get to the Front, I shall be proud as long as I live to have been 
a member of our own A. E. F. The world has already seen the 
farmer boy, the clerk, the laborer, the professional man of France 
and England and Italy and Germany fight, and remarkable fighters 
they have proved in the last four years. During the last year they 
have seen the farmer boy, the clerk, and laborer of our own United 
States play the same game with his more experienced colleagues and 
his vastly more experienced foe. And to date he has outclassed 
them all. He is just a little more intelligent, a little more daring, a 
little better led, a little better equipped, and immeasurably better 
spirited than the best they've got on this side. The American sol- 
dier is the best there is, and I want him to get the credit he deserves 
for pulling this war out of the fire at the worst hour of all. 



284 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

We "grouse" (I heard a Britisher say that word for "grumble" 
and it suits me) a lot in this army. We grouse at the cooks, we 
grouse at our beds, we grouse at our pay, we grouse at everything 
and everybody, most of all the Hun who is the excuse for our being 
here. But, honestly, there's not one of us who means it. There is 
not a man in our outfit who would trade places with any civilian in 
the States. We are having the experience of our lives, right now; 
and though we argue hotly that we would never join another army, 
and that we would wait till we were tied and dragged into it before 
getting another war, there's not a man in our company who wouldn't 
jump exactly where he did if he had it to do over. 

Probably you have searched in vain in my letters for some slight 
grain of information or news. We can say anything, but tell noth- 
ing. After the war, however, and we are back home, I defy any old 
censor to censor my tongue. You will hear the whole story some 
day, but you'll never read it. Until then 

Lieutenant Whitney R. Spiegel, ex-'18: July 28. — I have 
just come in from seven days of fierce fighting, having gone "over 
the top" six times. I suppose the last two weeks will stand out as 
the most momentous days of my life. Joining a company on the 
11th of July, going into an attack on the 17th, and being in com- 
mand of the company on the 21st is a pretty full week. 

We left for the attack on Tuesday night and went "over the top" 
at 8:20 a. m., Wednesday, July 17th. We had to walk through a 
terrible bombardment, which, of course, claimed some victims. The 
biggest miracle to me was that just as I stepped out into "No 
Man's Land," an artillery shell exploded at my feet and lifted me 
up in the air, and, will you believe it, I didn't receive a scratch. 
However, it claimed my corporal and wounded three other men. 
We crossed "No Man's Land" and took the village on the other 
side, but the Boche artillery at once started to demolish the town 
and we went on. We lay in a small brook for two days, and on 
Saturday evening we were "over the top" again and advanced more 
than twelve kilometers. You have no doubt read all about the fight- 
ing, little suspecting that I was in it. W^e stopped in a woods Satur- 
day night and Sunday, and Tuesday night — over again. 



From Our Soldier Boys 285 

It was here that our two lieutenants were slightly wounded, 
This left only the commanding officer and m.yself. Tuesday, just 
as we were ready to go over again, he received word to go back 
home as an instructor and receive promotion to captain. Can you 
imagine a more "novel" time to receive such an order? This left 
me the only officer in the company, and I am still in command. 
Another lieutenant was sent me yesterday, and I expect a captain 
soon. 

Really, I never saw such game and courageous young fellows 
as are in this company. They kept plodding along during those 
severe days without a whimper from one of them. They are now 
sitting around singing and playing. * * * 

There ought to be a law not to take any prisoners but to kill them 
all, as a Boche is only good when he is dead. They continue to do 
the same barbarous acts to-day as they did in 1914, and they will 
continue to do them as long as they live. Can you imagine going 
into a private home, tearing out fine paintings and taking good 
Oriental rugs and putting them in their dugouts? Is it a wonder 
every American wants to kill every Boche he sees? 

I thought I was a strong believer in God, but after the way I have 
come out of this, I am a great deal stronger, and know that Some- 
body is watching over me. Last Sunday we advanced twelve kilo- 
meters on the Boche. I put that down as the day I did more for 
Christianity than I ever did or hope to do, outside of giving my 
life. 

September 26. — To-day is the Big Day. When you receive this 
letter, look at the papers and see what happened. Our guns are 
certainly working. The windows and walls of this dugout are shat- 
tered every time one goes ofif. Here's hoping everything is as suc- 
cessful as all in the past six weeks has been, or since July 18. 

Yesterday my promotion to a first lieutenancy came through, and 
I was sworn in. I received a French paper yesterday which stated 
that the British army in Palestine had taken 25,000 prisoners, and 
captured the supplies and transportation of two Turkish armies. It 
looks as if the Allies are being crowned with success everywhere. 
There is plenty going on, but I can't tell it. In a few days there 
will be some wonderful news. * * * 



286 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

In the Chateau-Thierry, or second battle of the Marne, we started 
at Belleau Wood. Here was our worst fighting. I wish you could 
hear the bombardment. It is glorious to think the effect this is hav- 
ing among the Germans. 

AvREcouRT, France, December 8, 1918. 

A Merry Christmas to you all ! * * * 

The news of the armistice was certainly wonderful. From letters 
I have received, you people in Indianapolis must have had a wild 
celebration. Not so with us. We ended the war in a very different 
manner. We were in the front line preparing to go "over the top" 
at 1 :30 p. m. Orders had been received at 7 a. m. of November 11, 
to open attack at 1 :30. We had made all preparations and the 
artillery was making its bombardment, when a runner brought the 
message that hostilities would cease at 11 o'clock, 11th of Novem- 
ber, 1918. Nothing could have been more welcome, and yet the 
men gave but a cheer. The news was unbelievable, it struck us 
dumb. 

Our regiment has been in the second battle of the Marne, the 
Saint Mihiel offensive, and the battle of Verdun from October 25 
to November 11, 1918. This last experience at Verdun was the 
worst we have ever had. The old Boche was determined not to 
yield an inch at this point, and he surely carried out his threat. 
This sector was at the pivot of the German retreat, and an advance 
there would have cut off a great amount of their supplies. The 
small towns of Haumont, Flabas, Samogneux, Ville de Chaumont, 
and Beaumont will always stand out in my memory, when I think of 
this sector. The papers have told you in detail of the Saint Mihiel 
offensive and the Chateau-Thierry fight, so I shall not try to add 
to what you already know. 

At your earliest moment, write me all about Butler, and give to 
all my friends my best wishes. 

It is rumored that we are to return soon, but we know nothing 
definite. To think of Indianapolis seems like a dream. I can't 
believe I shall ever be there until I have both feet "planted" in the 
Union Station. 

Lieutenant Wood Unger, '12, with the 357th Infantry, wrote 
from a hospital in France : I lived more in three hours in one day 



From Our Soldier Boys 287 

than in all the rest of my life up to that time. By 8 a. m., I 
thought surely it was time for nightfall. It was glorious, and to 
serve with the splendid American manhood here is a privilege I 
well appreciate. Our captain was wounded in the first few minutes 
and I had the company for four days until I was hit. When I 
counted up my losses it hurt. One corporal I lost that not all the 
blood in the best division Germany has or will ever have could 
pay me for. 

Captain William Mathews, ex-' 14, from a hospital in France 
writes under date of October 30: Since the 1st of June it has been 
one continual round of hard fighting. You probably know how our 
division stopped the Boches in the first weeks of June in the vicinity 
of Chateau-Thierry. It was our battalion that went into Belleau 
Wood 958 strong and came out about 300 and with just six officers. 
I was one of them. Those were surely strenuous days. I'll never 
forget them as long as I live. Somebody was getting it all the time. 
W^e had no trenches — just small fox holes you dug with your best 
friend, the shovel. During that time I saw several men go stark 
mad from the shellfire and strain. 

We were pulled out of there at night and loaded into camions. 
We traveled all night and till noon the next day. We were un- 
loaded up north of Crepy. Then we hiked the rest of that day and 
the rest of that night. The hike that night was the worst I ever 
took. Our battalion moved single file down a road jammed with 
three lines of traffic. We were twenty minutes late getting up to 
our jumping off place the morning of the 18th, but we "went over" 
just the same. We had a wonderful barrage. The Boche did not 
put up much resistance and surrendered readily. With my men we 
took seventy-five prisoners and eight machine guns inside of the 
first hour. 

Then we walked for three miles till we reached our objective. 
The tanks were with us and helped mightily. That night we went 
over again and went for about a mile. The next morning other 
units jumped us, but we remained in support till the morning of 
the 20th. When our division was relieved and got back I was 
completely all in. We had had no sleep or food for sevent}--two 



288 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

hours and the strain of the past seven weeks got me. I lost my 
nerve after all the danger and the fighting was over. 

Well, I went to a field hospital and they sent me in by the 
wonderful hospital train. I finally ended up at Nantes. And who 
should I meet at the station but Tuck Brown, of Indianapolis. It 
did seem good to see him. 

I felt so ashamed of myself at that hospital that I left in a week 
and came back to the unit. A little later we went into the St. 
Mihiel show. It was a snap. The Boche was all packed ready to 
surrender. After that show we went up in the Champagne country 
and helped the French out. We attacked the morning of October 3 
and the first day was easy. We had our artillery. But the second 
day we were beyond range of our artillery and it grew pretty warm. 

While our battalion was executing a local attack the second day 
I stopped a shrapnel ball. It went in my leg just below the knee 
and went to the bone. I was never more surprised in my life, than 
when I was hit. I had been through so much without being hit that 
I thought the Boche did not have my number. It surely knocked 
my feet from under me, and I did let out a good strong curse. My, 
but it made me sore. And then I became scared for the first time 
in a long while. I wanted to get out without being hit again, I 
crawled back half a mile and found some stretchers and so I 
did get in. 

I have a real nice wound. It has not pained me in the least. They 
had to operate on me twice to get the bullet out. I have it now as 
a souvenir — one of the very few souvenirs I have. 

This hospital I am in is a splendid place. We have good beds, 
the very best of food and service, and the staff is efBcient. It is 
simply ideal. And the subway is but a block away. It whisks 
you down to the Place de I'Opera in a very few minutes. 

I am enjoying myself every minute. I am studying French and 
French history on the side, and making good use of my time. It 
will be a couple of months before I get back to the outfit. 

I am sick of war. And so are all the boys. We are so sick of it 
that we do not want a peace unless Germany surrenders com- 
pletely. We want no more wars. We want to finish it right while 
we are at it. We fight hard because we want to finish Germany 



From Our Soldier Boys 289 

and get back home as soon as possible. Europe will boil and give 
off a bit of steam for several years to come. 

Lieutenant John Paul Ragsdale, ex-'12: November 9. — 
It is a coincidence that I note in your letter a reference to the Ger- 
man offensive of July 15th, when I think that my regiment, and I 
with it, was partly responsible for the halting of that drive before 
it even started. We were defending Chalons, and we defended it. 
And then only a few days until we were driving the Hun northward 
back of the Ourcq. These are wonderful experiences we have had. 

This is being written in a building formerly occupied as a German 
headquarters. They moved out one night and I moved in the next. 
They left a piano behind in which I have found some pleasure. 
There are many French civilians about, who received us with the 
honor they would have accorded royalty. Poor people! But they 
are happy now in spite of their four years of bondage. 

H. N. Rogers, ex-, formerly of Indianapolis, recently of Laurel, 
Mississippi, writes from France where he has been a hut secretary 
of the Y. M. C. A. Passing through Paris the day of the signature 
of the armistice, he says, in part: Yesterday, November 11th, was 
a memorable day in France, particularly in Paris, where it was my 
privilege to be en route to my new assignment. It was a delirious 
joy that the people of the French capital expressed over the signing 
of the armistice. The celebration, which lasted through the entire 
night, went unabated in its magnitude. 

Allied flags, including Old Glory, were hung from every nook 
and corner, and immense throngs of civilians along with French, 
English, and American soldiers, formed an endless procession. The 
indelible impression of that day in Paris will never be forgotten. 
Paris was hysterical. 

I have seen football demonstrations in America, when large col- 
leges have been victorious over their foremost rivals, but such a 
celebration was child's play in comparison. "Vive la France," "La 
guerre est finie," one hears everywhere. 

After a long, anxious silence, a letter, under date of November 
29th, has been received from Lieutenant Carl C. Amelung, ex-' 19, 



290 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

which says, in part : Last spring all members of the A. E. F. wrote 
their mothers on Mothers' Day. To-day those same men, who 
survived the great war and suffered the hardships of all those dark 
and bitter days, are writing to their fathers as "Dad's Christmas 
letter." Such is this. The work you sent us over here to do has 
been done and we leave it to you if we have not done a mighty 
good job of it. What say you? The Third Army, of which the 
grand old Thirty-eighth Infantry is a member, is headed toward 
Germany on a triumphal march and as the Army of Occupation, 
So you see we shall get to speak a little "Dutch" and trample on 
German soil before our return trip. We do not know when we 
shall get to come home, but we are not worrying as that will come 
in due course. 

Before going on much further I must not forget to tell you what 
a wonderful help the people at home have given us during this 
great struggle. From a personal standpoint, I greatly appreciate the 
cooperation, cheerfulness, and ready assistance you and every mem- 
ber of the family has given me. Kindly accept my heartiest thanks 
and convey to the folks my deepest appreciation. 

On Christmas day as you sit down to that wonderful dinner of 
turkey, cranberry sauce, and all the trimmings, that I am sure 
grandma will have for you, just add to your words of grace thanks 
to the good Lord for His guidance, care, and protection which has 
enabled me to come safely through a bitter struggle. 

We are all glad the war is over, and we know the folks back 
home feel the same way. 

Lieutenant Myron M. Hughel, '17: December L — We are 
well and happy, impatient to return, and working just as hard with 
this organization as during the war. 

Desha T. Wilson, '20, Fort Sill, Oklahoma: December 15. — 
Have been attending the school of fire for light artillery at Ft. Sill 
for the past six weeks, preparatory to the observers' course here at 
the flying field. We cadets have just been commissioned as second 
lieutenants in the reserve. Not being called to active duty, we are 
not allowed to wear our bars until we have finished our course 
and have won our observers' wing. Our course, as a whole, 



From Our Soldier Boys 291 

has been very interesting. During the twelve weeks in ground 
school many things were made clear which I think can be 
useful in any walk of life. We finished a six-weeks' course in 
artillery gunnery and reconnoissance at the school of fire here at 
Ft. Sill. We were given two weeks in shooting on the range. This 
work was very interesting, and showed how very important the 
work of the artillery has been in the prosecution of the great war. 
Give every one at Butler my best regards. 

Seaman Joseph H. Seyfried, '20: I ask to be remembered 
among those who, though far away, guard with tenderness and 
reverence the memories of dear old Butler. 

Lieutenant Earl T. Bonham, ex-'18: 

In Rhenish Prussia, December 7, 1918. 

Christmas is drawing near and my thoughts are more and more 
of home and the old college. It is seldom that I have any news of 
the old school ; in fact, it has been over a week since we have had 
any but the German newspapers or have heard from the outside 
world at all. 

No doubt you know that we are marching on Coblenz. Our trip 
for the past week has taken us up the Moselle valley. The people 
are scared to death of us and when we appear in a town the women 
cry and beg us not to harm them. Of course there is no need for 
that. We try to be cold, firm, and just to them, in keeping with the 
spirit of a military occupation and of the country we represent. We 
demand the best to be had and the people are only too glad to grant 
our every wish; consequently, there has been no trouble whatever 
and we anticipate none. 

You have doubtless heard of Hilton's death. It certainly was a 
blow to me and to all of the officers of the regiment. \\> were ad- 
vancing up the Meuse and Tuck's battery had just gone into position 
and three of them were working over a map. A plane came over and 
spotted them. The next moment a shell fell, killing Tuck and an- 
other lieutenant. It is a very sad thing, but the most desirable and 
honorable death of all. I was about two hundred yards from them 
at the time and did not know that any one had been struck. Paul 
Brown is now in the regiment. 



Tributes to Two Boys 

We here give further information concerning the death of 
Lieutenant Kenneth V. ElHott, '20; also, a letter written to Mrs. 
Elliott by Mr. Meredith Nicholson, thinking other hearts, too, 
may find comfort in it: 

Base Hospital 23, A. E. F., France, September 12, 1918. 

Since the sad news came to you of the death in the hospital of 
your son. Lieutenant Kenneth V. Elliott, of Machine Gun Com- 
pany, 58th Infantry, I feel sure you must have wished to know 
something of his illness. 

He was admitted to Base Hospital 23 August 10th, having been 
wounded in the right hip while in action August 7th. Because 
of the infection of the wound with gas gangrene it was necessary 
to amputate the leg at the hip. Following the operation the infec- 
tion subsided, and the surgeon. Captain Herbert Smith, hoped for 
the Lieutenant's recovery. This hope persisted for two weeks, as 
he made a wonderful fight, and seemed to be gaining strength. 
But on August 29th a second infection developed, of the strep- 
tococcic type. As soon as this became evident, it was realized that 
recovery was impossible. The progress of the infection was very 
rapid. On August 31st your son was quite restless until about 2 
o'clock in the afternoon, when he became quiet, and remained 
practically unconscious until the end, which came at 3 o'clock. Be- 
sides the nurse. Father DufTy, chaplain of the 165th Infantry, 
was with your son at the last. No doubt he has written to you. 

The burial was held at 3 o'clock in the afternoon of September 
2d, from the little English church in the town. The ceremony 
was conducted by the Reverend Arthur Washburn, chaplain. The 
coffin was covered with a beautiful American flag, and bore a 
sheaf of flowers, the gift of the American Red Cross. Convales- 
cent officers were the pallbearers. After the service in the church, 
the body was taken, attended by a militar}- escort, to the cemetery, 
where it was laid away with full military honors. As we stood 
at the graveside during the reading of the Episcopalian burial 
service, and as the last notes of "Taps" died out on the air, I 



Tributes to Two Boys 29.'^ 

know the thought of us all went out to the home that had been 
called upon to make this sacrifice. 

As I write these details, I wish I might somehow picture for 
you your son's surroundings during his illness, and the place 
where his body lies. The cemetery is on a hilltop at the outskirts 
of the village, overlooking a peaceful, lovely valley and wooded 
hills which remind me of home. There is a plot set aside for 
American soldiers, and the graves are carefully registered and 
tended by the army. 

In the hospital Lieutenant Elliott had a cheerful room which 
was far more homelike and comfortable than one would imagine 
an army hospital could be. He had a special nurse night and 
day, and every possible means, including blood transfusion, was 
used to aid him in the splendid fight he made for recovery. He 
could not have had more devoted care in a hospital at home. 

Knowing his remarkable personality, you will not be surprised 
to learn that your son inspired affection in all who came in con- 
tact with him. Doctors, nurses, and orderlies all showed the 
keenest interest in him. We soon found out some of his tastes 
and preferences — that he liked ice cream, for instance, and certain 
brands of cigarettes, and that he preferred roses on his bedside 
table — and every one took pleasure in getting things for him. He 
was always most grateful, too, for even the slightest attention. 

As Hospital Visitor for the Home Communication Service of 
the Red Cross, I saw Lieutenant Elliott as often as his condition 
permitted. He talked to me a little about his home and his college 
days. His mind was occupied principally, however, with the war, 
and we were all impressed with the fact that he was a remarkable 
soldier. Considering the severity of his injury, his mind was 
surprisingly clear for a few days before the second infection 
developed, and during that time he took great pleasure in having 
some one with him. He liked to be read to. I remember finding 
a brother ofificer reading a newspaper to him one day, and his 
nurse told me that he had enjoyed hearing her read from the 
Bible. 

These are only little things, but perhaps they will make you feel 
a little nearer your son in his last days. Our acquaintance with 



294 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

him, brief as it was, enabled us to realize somewhat the greatness 
of your loss. You must already have heard, as we did, that he 
was wounded in an advance in which his courage and enthusiasm 
had placed him far in the lead. And I feel sure that even in your 
great grief you must be filled with pride in his character and his 
achievements. 

Please permit me to express to you my deepest sympathy. If 
there should be any way in which I can serve you, please do not 
hesitate to write to me. Very sincerely yours, 

EVADNE LapTAD, 

Home Communication Service, American Red Cross. 

Meredith Nicholson : October 19, 1918. * * * i need 
not say that I was deeply shocked and grieved by the sad news of 
your boy's death. No boy I ever met interested me as much as he 
did. He made a deep impression upon me by reason of his sim- 
plicity, his wide range of interests, his fine ambitions. We talked 
a long time on the train that night, and mostly of the sea, — of the 
rush of great waters and the stars and the way of sailor folk. He 
was like a good book. The poetry of the sea had entered into his 
soul, the mystery and wonder of it. It was an inspiration to know 
him. The memory of his manliness, his high aims, his understanding 
of those things that are of good report, will always abide with me. 
He spoke of you that night as a mother would like a son to speak 
of her. I told my wife and children about the meeting and spoke 
of him to many friends and was glad to pay my tribute to him in 
print. In a way he became my boy, too ! 

"Good lives do not go out ; they go on !" And your son had lived 
a full life and it is not for us to think that it is not complete and 
fully rounded, or that it perished in the thing we call Death. He 
gave the most precious thing he had for his country and for the 
women and children of the world, and he is one of the heroes of 
this mighty war for freedom and justice and mercy. And I like to 
think of him as he said goodbye that night, hopeful, courageous, 
with no fear in his eyes of what lay before him. He sails some- 
where, beyond our knowing, upon a good ship in tranquil seas, with 
friends about him and happy isles ahead. 



Tributes to Two Boys 295 

The expressions which came to Mr. and Mrs. Brown have been 
numerous and fine. Because they show young Hilton in his many- 
sided character, the parents have kindly allowed the readers of The 
Quarterly to see a few. 

The following verses were written by Mrs. Jackson, wife of 
Major Ed Jackson, formerly of Irvington, upon hearing of the 
death of Lieutenant Brown : 

STARS. 

Long ago in an eastern sky 

Shone a star that was silvery bright; 
It guided the way to a wonderful child 

Who came to the earth that night. 

He left His Father's beautiful home 

For sacrifice, service and pain, 
And he gave his life — "He so loved the world" — 

But He did not die in vain. 

To-night in many a quiet place 

Is a star of gleaming gold ; 
It also points to a wonderful boy 

Just as the star of old. 

He sleeps to-night in far-oflf France. 

The oppressed have found release, 
And the angel chorus repeats again 

The song they sang of "Peace." 

Tarkington Baker : The word comes to me to-day for the first 
time of the death of Hilton. May I express to you my sense of 
real, personal loss ? In the work at Butler College, I came to know- 
Hilton well — to admire him for his fine, sterling qualities and to 
feel for him a genuine afifection. No student in Butler at that time 
was held by his fellow students in higher regard. "Tuck." with his 
gayety, his humor, his manly boyishness, and his boyish manliness, 
was the life of every gathering of which he was a part. He was, 
by nature, the very sort of stuff that makes the soul of bravery and 
courage. 



296 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Words cannot measure his sacrifice nor appraise his character. 
But I could not, on receipt of the news of his splendid death — and 
he died, I think, as "Tuck" would have wished to die — refrain from 
expressing to you my deepest sympathy. My high regard and my 
affection for Hilton speak for me. 

Delavan Smith : It is a hard blow to bear, for Hilton had lived 
just long enough to give proof of a fine temperament and nobility 
of character. Then, too, he bore his father's name, and gave every 
promise of bearing it worthily through life. This is the hard side 
for you to bear. Consolation may be found in the noble and willing 
sacrifice the boy made for his country and righteousness. His fine- 
ness of spirit in time to come will be a rich and satisfying memory 
to you and Mrs. Brown and to brothers and sisters and all who 
knew him. 

Most of us get through life with little to show for it other than 
material pursuits — the world little better for our existence, some- 
times worse. Hilton in his short life has developed a quality fit 
for angels and has made the grandest possible contribution to 
humanity. 

It is too bad that the pick of the land should have to be sacrificed 
to curb the greed of God's creatures. Christ showed man the way 
to avoid all this ; but in the two thousand years that have elapsed 
since His preaching, man seems to have progressed but little. Maybe 
the awful waste of this war may produce an awakened spirit more 
worthy of the Great Teacher. 

John H. Holliday's son was one of the very first victims from 
Indianapolis of the war. His letter to Mr. and Mrs. Brown is, in 
part : 

"I want you to know how deeply we sympathize with you and 
Mrs. Brown, for we can understand the magnitude of your loss and 
the grief of separation that comes with every day. I think our boys 
were alike in many ways and we have the same experience. These 
fine lives are a great price to pay, but humanity is getting a great 
consideration for them, I believe, and in that faith our dead have 
not died in vain. To give oneself to such a great cause and to aid 
our Heavenly Father in bringing in His Kingdom on earth is to 
have accomplished the greatest thing possible and the cup of life 



Tributes to Two Boys 297 

could not be made fuller. Could we ask more for our boys if it 
were ours to plan their destinies, as we recall their manliness, high 
ideals, and attractiveness ? 

"One great consolation to us has been the thought that his life 
was complete and that he had been found faithful and been pro- 
moted to a sphere where the same abilities and lovely qualities would 
go on in growing service of some kind to his Father and his fellow 
creatures. There is not the regret that would ask for a different 
ending. He was a precious blessing given to us to train and enjoy, 
but the time came when he was needed elsewhere and God took him. 

"Regret ! No. Grief for the separation, pain that comes with 
each recollection, yes. That is the burden of each day, but with it 
great pride and satisfaction that he met the supreme test and proved 
himself the man that from his infancy we hoped he would be. 

"Grief will be with us, not so poignantly, probably, for God per- 
mits time to dull the sharp edges gradually, but I think the joy will 
increase, the joy of knowing that it is well with him, and that it is 
well that he lived such a life and died such a death." 

To Lieutenant Hilton U. Brown, Jr. 

So you are dead in far Argonne, and the lovely land of war-swept 
France you fought to save holds you at last in close embrace. 

We who knew you, saw you grow from childhood into perfect 
youth, straight, clean, and tall, looking life in the face with clear, 
untroubled eyes and joyous smile — challenging unafraid the brood- 
ing shadows that ever hem us round about — we might have known 
or guessed the hero spirit waiting for its call. 

Boundless our pride to know such youth has walked among us. 
While waters run, clouds blow, and earth is green, need we have 
fear for our dear motherland that breeds such men? 

Dead in Argonne ? Nay — but in the glorious throng innumerable 
of heroic souls joyously triumphant, radiant new shriven, from the 
fields of sacrifice — flower of our youth sweeping past the great 
archangel — he the dragon slayer of the flaming sword saluting 
greets them : Hail, brothers mine ! for ye have slain your dragon. 
Welcome to your glorious rest ! 

Lo, even as Christ died for men, so have ye died for Christ. 

W. Forsyth. 



298 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

December 13, 1918. 
On behalf of the faculty of Butler College, we write to express 
the sympathy of the whole college with you and your family at the 
death in battle of Hilton U. Brown, Jr. We remember vividly his 
cheerfulness and his talent while in college, and the very large 
share he took in the life of the place. We had looked forward to 
his return to us matured and ennobled by the experience and re- 
sponsibilities of a year's fighting for Freedom and Humanity. It 
was with the sense of a personal loss that we heard that he had 
laid down his life for the cause for which he fought. We share 
with you, however, the rich consolation of knowing that Hilton 
achieved great things and contributed even by his death to the sal- 
vation of the whole world. C. B. Coleman, 

E. N. Johnson, 
J. W. Putnam, 
For the Faculty of Butler College Committee. 

In reply Mr. Brown has written : 

"My family and I appreciate keenly the sympathetic expression 
which you, as a committee of the faculty of Butler College, have 
forwarded to us in relation to the death of our son. Lieutenant 
Hilton U. ^rown, Jr., in action November 3. 

"The tribute you have paid to his memory we shall treasure 
through all time. It seems to me now that I can see in his whole 
life he was leading up to the great sacrifice. At least we know 
that he was willing. He crowded into his short years all that is 
worth while in life — no matter how long and how great the span. 
Under cover of a cheerful and smiling exterior we know that he was 
realizing the purposes of life and was endeavoring to make its bur- 
dens light as possible for others. He had marked affection for the 
college and for all of you — an affection which perhaps was not 
always on exhibition, but which was nevertheless sincere and deep. 
One of our chief happinesses is that many of his friends really knew 
him and appreciated not only his developed but latent qualities. No 
honor that you could bestow on us could equal in value the praise 
that you could have accorded to him. 

"Please thank for us all that have had to do with your action, 
and believe that we would speak, if we could, as he would if Hilton 
himself were here." 



The Butler College Unit of the S. A. T. C. 

An Impression 
By Christopher B. Coleman 

The signing of the armistice and the sudden collapse of the Stu- 
dents' Army Training Corps, which was abandoned at the end of 
hostilities, ought not to make us forget the possibilities which the 
plans of the War Department held earlier in the year for both the 
government and the colleges. There is little question but that had 
the war continued through the summer of 1919, the Students' Army 
Training Corps would have proved of inestimable value in sifting 
out material for noncommissioned and commissioned officers and in 
giving them preliminary training under the best possible conditions 
as well as in preventing the temporary disappearance of men from 
our colleges. While, therefore, it must be admitted that as a fact 
of history the three-months' experience has been largely fruitless 
and unsatisfactory, the colleges are not to be blamed for entering 
into the scheme, nor is the government to be condemned for pro- 
posing it. 

As was the case in most of the 516 colleges in which military 
units were established, there were a good many mistakes of one 
kind or another made at Butler College. Many of these perhaps 
ought to have been avoided, but the consideration that in any pro- 
ject of great magnitude involving entirely new questions and ad- 
justments, only the universal prevalence of administrative genius 
could prevent confusion and disorganization, ought to lead us to a 
kindlier judgment than has sometimes been pronounced upon the 
occurrences of the last months. The final adjustment has not yet 
been made in such important matters as college credit to be given 
for the work of the individual students and as financial settlements 
of the government with the colleges. It is entirely too early, there- 
fore, to attempt to give a final estimate of the experiment, but I 
doubt whether many colleges regret their participation in it. 

As actually conducted, the experiment seemed to show that mili- 



300 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

tary life and academic work do not fit well together. It could be 
justified only by the crisis precipitated by the need of a very large 
number of new officers for the training of a large drafted army. 
Since the early termination of the war put an end to the experiment 
before the drafted army came into existence, no one can say posi- 
tively whether the Students' Army Training Corps was the best way 
to meet the crisis or not. All of us, however, engaged in the enter- 
prise can have the satisfaction of feeling that we did our best and 
that in its primary function, the training corps seemed to be on the 
highroad to success. 

The Butler College unit contained on its roster the names of 264 
men. These were inducted into service at various times during the 
first three weeks of October. Equipment of all kinds was at first 
lacking and was not fully supplied until two days after the order for 
demobilization had been received. Though badly handicapped by 
the lack of equipment, the men made considerable progress in 
knowledge of military life and tactics. The appearance of the two 
companies which were organized, in the last days of their existence, 
was a tremendous improvement upon the early drills. Second only 
to the lack of equipment as a handicap was the inability of the War 
Department to supply officers. For more than a week of a most 
critical period in the organization of the unit one man had to 
shoulder the entire burden of the command of the unit, — a thing 
beyond the capacity, probably, of any man in the service. The bar- 
racks and mess hall were erected as rapidly as possible and ready 
for occupation before equipment of cots and bedding was provided. 
The men therefore had a taste for more than a month of actual 
army life. The appearance of the barracks and their construction 
was far better than in the case of the ordinary army barracks. The 
whole scene when the companies were drawn up for inspection be- 
fore the barracks was one of which the college might well be proud, 
a scene which will linger long in the memory of those who saw it. 
The college is to be commended for its willingness to risk financial 
loss by constructing ornamental and habitable barracks, and the 
Bums Realty Company is entitled to great credit for the plans of 
construction and their execution. 

The order for demobilization was received on Tuesday, Novem- 



The Butler College Unit of the S. A. T. C. 301 

ber 26. Most of the men were released from service in the first 
week of December. It was certainly a mistake that demobilization 
was not deferred until the end of the term as announced under gov- 
ernment orders. Many students were prevented from finishing a 
term's work and from receiving any college credit whatever for 
their work. Many who probably would have continued their college 
work were deterred from doing so by the desire for a vacation upon 
dismissal from service. It would have been far better had demob- 
ilization been deferred at Butler College as it was at the other col- 
leges of the State until the 21st of December. As it was, the great 
majority, over two hundred, of the members of the Students' Army 
Training Corps discontinued college work, at least for the time, after 
demobilization. 

The epidemic of the influenza interfered with the work of the 
Students' Army Training Corps, as it did with everything else in 
October, November, and December. The hospital which was hastily 
improvised on Ritter avenue, under the direction of Dr. Walter F. 
Kelly, was on several occasions filled to capacity. Absences from 
college work, made all too numerous by military assignments, were 
vastly increased by the epidemic. It was a source of great sorrow 
that one of the most popular and promising men of the corps, Wil- 
son Russell Mercer, died at the hospital as a result of an attack of 
influenza and pneumonia. 

From an academic point of view, the fall term of 1918-'19 has 
been most unsatisfactory. From a military point of view, consid- 
erable progress was made, but judgment must be withheld in view 
of the absence of any final test. It is possible that everything would 
have worked out satisfactorily had the experiment continued long 
enough. As it was we can only say, it might have been. 



BUTLER ALUMNAL QUARTERLY 

ISSUED JANUARY, APRIL, JULY, OCTOBER 

Published by the Alumni Association of Butler College, Indianapolis, Ind. 

Subscription price, one dollar per year. 

Entered as second-class matter, March 26, 1912, at the post office at Indian- 
apolis, Ind., under the Act of March 3, 1879. 

Officei-5 of the Alumni Association — President, Mrs. Jessie Christian Brown, 
'97; First Vice-President, William G. Irwin, '89; Second Vice-Presi- 
dent, Lieutenant Justus W. Paul, '15; Treasurer, Carl Van Winkle, '14. 

Secretary and Editor of the Butler Alumnal Quarterly — Katharine M. Gray- 
don, '78. 



Founders Day 

The celebration last year of Founder's Day was limited to the 
address in the chapel made by Dr. Stanley Coulter, of Purdue 
University. In the conditions of war, no other features of the 
occasion were needed to honor him whose birthday it is our wont 
to observe ; and no address could have been more worthy the time 
or the place or be held in more pleasant memory. 

This year February 7 falls in the mid-year vacation. Through 
the press the friends of the college will be notified of the definite 
arrangements. It is hoped the alumni will come together in increased 
numbers to pay tribute to all Butler College has stood for during the 
past. The last nineteen months show a noble record, and is it not 
our sacred privilege, if not duty, to recognize more loyally than 
ever before our collegiate inheritance? 

The Returning Boys 

There is talk about the college of the welcome that shall await 
our returning heroes and of the form of appreciation Butler College 
shall extend to her splendid sons. A variety of suggestions is made. 
The readers of the Quarterly are called upon for added proposals 
as to a desirable recognition. Certainly too deep an appreciation of 
the service of these youths who have offered and have given their 



Butler Man in Italy 303 

lives for justice, freedom, humanity, cannot be expressed. Now 
is the time for Butler spirit to show itself as never before in a 
form of high gratitude. Not a moment's hesitation was in the 
souls of these boys. Shall there be in ours upon a worthy recogni- 
tion of their service? 

Butler College War Service Record 

The secretary of the Alumni Association is working on a War 
Record of Butler College students. It is her desire to secure the 
name and address of every man who has ever attended Butler 
College and thus to secure full information concerning those who 
have been actively engaged not only in military or naval service, 
but also in Red Cross, Y. M. C. A., or other forms of civilian work. 
To gather the data desired, blank forms have been mailed to every 
alumnus. Perhaps one-fourth of such blanks have been returned. 

The Alumni Association voted last June to prepare a history of 
the part the Butler boys have taken in the war. Miss Graydon 
was appointed to do this work. It is her purpose to compile a 
volume on "The Butler Student in the Great War" which will help 
to commemorate the valiant spirit and deeds of the students. There- 
fore, she makes earnest appeal to the readers of the Quarterly for 
letters, parts of journals, documents, photographs, — any informa- 
tion concerning any of our boys. All material will be carefully pre- 
served in the memorabilia files and returned to the rightful owners. 
Now that it is possible to have photostatic copies made of valuable 
possessions, we do not hesitate to make this appeal. This is history, 
and we hope the Butler friends will not hesitate to lend their neces- 
sary assistance in making it accurate, valuable, and worthy. 

Butler Man in Italy 

It is interesting to note that a Butler man led the first regiment 
of United States troops to arrive in Italy — Colonel William ^^'allace. 

Colonel Wallace, who has been in the regular army since before 
the Spanish-American War, sailed from the United States June 10 
and was in France, close behind the front, for a month before being 



304 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

sent to Italy. An American correspondent, describing the arrival 
of the regiment, says that when it reached Italy the enthusiasm of 
the Italians was literally overwhelming. The progress of the sol- 
diers was marked by applause as though it were a triumphant pil- 
grimage, for the Italians desired to welcome them not only as allies 
but as brothers. And the veterans of the Piave greeted with their 
entire souls the representatives of the young American army. 

The first train, with Colonel Wallace and a company of workers, 
together with supplies, reached the Italian boundary late on the 
night of July 28. Italian civil and military authorities were waiting 
to greet them as men rarely are greeted. Then, while the long train 
passed through the tunnel between France and Italy, Colonel 
Wallace and the Italians climbed into a waiting motor car and made 
a wonderful moonlight ride over a famous mountain pass among 
the great peaks of the Alps, meeting the train at Bardonecchia, 
where they received a second ovation greater than the first. 

No night was so black and no hour so late as to prevent the 
Italians from filling the stations by thousands. Turin and Milan 
greeted each of the seven sections with flowers and banners. When 
the first section reached its destination, a town near a famous city 
of Italy, the small place was fairly American, so many American 
flags were flying from the windows. Colonel Wallace was here 
received by the veteran, General Pecori Giraldi, commanding the 
First Italian Army. 

Recent Books of Butler Men 

A volume has been issued by the University of Chicago Press 
bearing the title page of 

THE ILLINOIS AND MICHIGAN CANAL 

A Study in 
Economic History 

By James William Putnam, Ph. D. 
Professor of Economics in Butler College 

Illinois Centennial Publication 



Recent Books of Butler Men 305 

This book, which is Volume X of the Chicago Historical Society's 
Collection, attracts our attention for two reasons : It is the work of 
a member of the Butler College faculty, esteemed and beloved; 
it is in its form and contents of especial value to those interested 
in pioneer days. 

The purpose of the book is thus stated in the introduction : "The 
history of the Illinois and Michigan Canal is worthy of more than 
passing interest, not only because it was the forerunner and in a 
large measure the creator of the present deep waterway movement, 
but also, because in the manner of its financing and construction and 
its local influence, it is typical of many of the canals of this country 
and especially those of the Middle West. It differs from most of 
them, however, in having occupied a more strategic position and 
having wielded a more extensive influence than they did. In tracing 
the history of this canal, an effort is made to sketch the evolution 
of the project, the difficulties incident to the financing and con- 
struction of the work, the successes and failures of the canal as a 
transportation agency, its influence on the economic development 
of the region which it has so long served, the conditions which led 
to the present movement for an enlarged and deepened channel, 
and finally, the progress thus far made toward the achievement of 
these larger plans." 

Footnotes are numerous and copious. Illustrations add to the 
value and attractiveness. In appendix, bibliography, and index are 
added efficiency of the volume. 

The Quarterly congratulates Dr. Putnam on a work of research 
so well accomplished. 

Daniel Sommer Robinson, '10, Ph. D. Harvard, '17, acting chap- 
lain, U. S. N., has translated "Christian Belief in God," by Georg 
Wobbermin, Ph. D., professor of dogmatics. University of Heidel- 
berg. 

In a notice of the new books on philosophy and religion from the 
Yale University Press is the following statement concerning this 
German criticism of German materialistic philosophy : 

"The fact that one of the chief causes of the war is generally 
conceded to be the widespread prevalence among the intellectual 



306 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

classes in Germany of the doctrines of Nietzsche, Haeckel, and other 
philosophers, makes especially significant and timely the issue of 
a translation of Dr. Wobbermin's work. For this volume consists 
of a careful analysis and incisive criticism by a German of that 
modernized form of materialism and evolutionism of which these 
thinkers are the well-known exponents. Dr. Wobbermin's vigorous 
defense of Christian theism, together with his resume and de- 
structive criticism of the chief types of current German philosophy, 
renders the book exceptionally valuable to all who wish to under- 
stand the thought-world of modern Germany. 

"The volume will be found excellent as a textbook in the philos- 
ophy of the Christian religion or theism and as a reference work 
in contemporary philosophy. It also contains a fund of material 
suitable for the preparation of a series of thoughtful sermons on 
the anti-Christian philosophies of Nietzsche and Haeckel. A gen- 
eral reading of its pages will tend to deepen and strengthen the 
foundations upon which Christian convictions rest." 



Personal Mention 

Brandon Clarke, '97, first lieutenant of quartermaster corps, is 
still in France. 

Earl Burget, a former student, is superintendent of schools at 
Chouteau, Montana. 

Sergeant James Layman Schell, '21, son of Henry Stewart Schell, 
'90, is a member of the Eleventh Regiment of the United States 
Marine Corps. 

Lieutenant John L. Wamsley, '21, of Irvington, is said to be the 
youngest flying lieutenant in the United States army. He qualified 
as a pursuit pilot. 

Lieutenant Carl C. Amelung, ex-'19, is now a Regular. He was 
gassed on April 1, and severely Avounded at Chateau-Thierry on 
July 18, from which he has been slowly recovering. 



Personal Mention 307 

Miss Lola Walling, '17, is teaching in the State School for the 
Blind, South Carolina. 

Ensign Clifford H. Browder, '12, is under assignment on the 
U. S. S. Charlton Hall. 

When last heard from. Lieutenant Jack J. Hinman, Jr., was sta- 
tioned at the Base Laboratory, Sanitary Corps, Winchester, Eng- 
land. 

Captain Robley D. Blount, ex-, has returned to his home in Val- 
paraiso, Indiana, after several months' service at the Evacuation 
Hospital of Camp Greenleaf, Georgia. 

Hiram B. Seward, ex-'16, spent Christmas at his home in Irving- 
ton. "Hi" has been doing good work in the quartermaster's depart- 
ment, having been located for a year at New Britain, Connecticut, 
but recently at Boston. 

John W. Barnett, '94, after serving overseas in Y. M. C. A. work, 
is now the religious work director of "The Receiving Ship" at Bos- 
ton. We had hoped to place in this issue an account of his good 
work, but it will come later, we are assured. 

Lieutenant John Iden Kautz, ex-'18, was of Group M, reserve 
transportation division, when the following felicitation was issued 
by Commandant Mallet : "I am glad to tender you my thanks for 
the splendid spirit and endurance of which you have just given 
proof during the last convoys." 

The Quarterly extends its sympathy to Miss Anna Burt, '08, in 
the death of her father. Rev. J. C. Burt, on October 19, at Seattle. 
Miss Burt had returned, after an absence of five years on the Pa- 
cific coast, to the Indianapolis high schools and to make a home in 
Irvington for herself and her father. 

W. F. Lacey, '92, and Mrs. Lona Iden Lacey, '93, have moved 
from Noblesville, Indiana, to Ann Arbor, Michigan. "We are en- 
joying our life at Ann Arbor, but Albert and Mary have been ver\^ 
homesick for old friends at Butler. We can not go so far away that 
we forget those old friends at Butler." 



308 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Dr. William H. Long, '03, is now Lieutenant Long, stationed on 
active service at Fort Riley, Kansas. 

Lieutenant Eugene E. Sims, ex-'19, visited college in November. 
He is now located at Camp Travis, Texas. 

Judge William A. Burton, ex-'70, of Nebraska, has been con- 
ducting classes in military law at the Students' Army Training 
Corps of Hastings College. 

Miss Iris Maxwell, a former student, has been appointed assist- 
ant supervisor of schools in the Philippine Islands. She will have 
charge of the intermediate work of the schools and is directly under 
Miss Charity Dysart, chief supervisor, formerly of Indianapolis. 
Miss Maxwell taught for four years in the Indianapolis schools. 

Lieutenant Paul W. Ward, '14, is instructor in camera and com- 
bat work in Rockwell Aviation Field, San Diego. He has been driv- 
ing a plane along the southern California coast. He flew as a scout 
in the monster "peace parade" over San Diego, in which there were 
212 "ships." This is said to be the greatest exhibition in the his- 
tory of the air service. 

Mallie J. Murphy, '08, at one time secretary to President Howe, 
sailed in December on the S. S. Adriatic as a member of the Amer- 
ican Red Cross party which will attend the Peace Conference in 
France. Mr. Murphy will go as a publicity assistant to Ivy Lee, 
who will be on the staff of Henry P. Davidson, recently chairman 
of the American Red Cross War Commission. Mrs. Mabel Gant 
Murphy, '12, and little daughter have returned to Indianapolis to 
be with Mr. Murphy's mother. 

The Butler unit of the Students' Army Training Corps gave a 
Thanksgiving dinner at the barracks for their ladies and a few of 
the faculty. To serve a good turkey dinner to over five hundred 
guests would have staggered a mature housekeeper, but not 
these young people. It was a great success, and called to mind a 
remark of H. U. Brown, '80, on a former occasion: "What's equal 
to the spirit of youth !" Following the dinner the young people 
danced at the Riley room, Claypool Hotel. 



Personal Mention 309 

Lieutenant Austin V. Clifford, '15, spent his Christmas hoUdays 
at home on furlough. He came from Fort Sill. 

Miss Evelyn Utter, '17, has sailed for the Belgian Congo, accom- 
panied by Miss Wilhelma Smith and Miss Ruth Musgrave, former 
students of Butler College. 

Miss Sarah E. Cotton held at her apartment in Irvington a fam- 
ily reunion during the holidays. There were with her, her mother, 
her brother, Fassett A. Cotton, '02, president of the State Normal 
School of Wisconsin, and Mrs. Cotton; her niece. Miss Carol Cot- 
ton, of the State Normal School of New York; and her nephew, 
Irwin N. Cotton, ex-'08, Mrs. Irwin Cotton and two children. Irwin 
Cotton is now connected with the Steam Engineering School of the 
Stevens Institute, located at Hoboken, New Jersey. 

The sympathy of Irvington has gone out to Thomas A. Hall, '92, 
and Mrs. Hall in the severe wounding of their son. Robert, of the 
United States Marines, in the fighting about Rheims, was hit on 
October 4 three times in a few minutes. It was necessarv^ to am- 
putate his right leg. Fine cheer marks his letter; he closes with 
the statement that he hopes to be home by Christmas. "So, get my 
old room ready for me, and have a nice Christmas dinner wait- 
ing." Mrs. Hall is recovering after a severe attack of influenza. 

The Americanization Section of the Field Division of the Coun- 
cil of National Defense has issued the Quarterly Bulletin of the 
State Normal School, Minot, North Dakota, in which occurs this 
statement: "To Acting President William F. Clarke belongs the 
credit of carrying the work of the Normal School forward with 
marked success from the time of his appointment in April. Stu- 
dents and faculty alike, have given him unstinted loyalty and sup- 
port in all measures which he initiated for the good of the school. 
The marked success of the summer session just closing is due in 
large measure to President Clarke's untiring efforts, painstaking 
care, and foresight. He has been foremost in all the plans and pol- 
icies of the school where patriotic service could be rendered. It is 
altogether fitting, therefore, that this issue of the Bulletin, with its 
resume of the various war activities of the school, be dedicated to 



310 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

him." We congratulate Mr. Clarke, '92, on his excellent work and 
its appreciation. 

The casualties of the last fighting weeks struck Butler very heav- 
ily. Word has been received that Lieutenant William O. Conway, 
ex-'13, was in a London hospital recovering from a wound which 
occasioned blindness and deafness. There is hope of the recovery 
of his sight. 

Captain William Mathews, ex-'14, (alias "Bill"), is recovering 
from a severe leg wound received in an engagement from which 
barely three hundred out of nine hundred survived. We give his 
letter elsewhere. 

Sergeant Fred Daniels, ex-' 18, is on the wounded list, as are Lieu- 
tenant Thomas E. Hibben, Lieutenant Carl C. Amelung, Delbert 
Stump, Forrey Wild, Raymond Colbert, James Hibben. All are 
convalescing. 



Marriages 



Huff-Goldsmith. — On October 15, in St. Paul's Episcopal 
church, Baltimore, Maryland, by Rev. Kinsolving, were married 
Mr. Floyd E. Huff, '16, and Miss Agnes A. Goldsmith, of Tacoma, 
Washington. Mr. and Mrs. Huff are at home at Oakdale, Penn- 
sylvania, where Mr. Huff is chief chemist at the .^tna Chemical 
Works. 

Keiser-Reed. — On November 2, at the bride'^ home in Indianap- 
olis, were married Mr. Robert Larrick Keiser, ex-, and Miss Helen 
Marie Reed, '12. Mr. and Mrs. Keiser are residing in Bordeaux, 
France, where Mr. Keiser is American consul. 

Wolff-Cay. — On November 15, were married in Kokomo, Indi- 
ana, Mr. Fred Wolff, '16, and Miss Charlena Cay. Mr. and Mrs. 
Wolff are at home in Arcadia, Indiana, where Mr. Wolff is pastor 
of the Christian church. 

Bate-Canada. — On November 28, at the bride's home in Indi- 
anapolis, were married Lieutenant J. L. Bate and Miss Bessie 



Births 311 

Gladys Canada, '20. Lieutenant and Mrs. Bate are at home in Albion, 
Michigan, where Lieutenant Bate has been commanding officer of 
the Students' Army Training Corps. 



Births 

MacLeod. — To Mr. Roderick A. MacLeod, '14, and Mrs. Esther 
Martha MacLeod, on August 12, at Batang, Tibet, a daughter — 
Lona. 

Caldwell. — To Mr. Howard C. Caldwell, '15, and Mrs. Elsie 
Felt Caldwell, '17, on December 9, at Indianapolis, a daughter — 
Martha Virginia. 

HuTCHCRAFT. — To Mr. David Hutchcraft and Mrs. Gertrude 
Pruitt Hutchcraft, '14, on December 15, at Indianapolis, a daughter 
— Barbara. 

Russell. — To Mr. Horace M. Russell, '05, and Mrs. Russell, on 
December 23, at Amarillo, Texas, a daughter — Julia Margaret. 

LIerold. — To Mr. Don Herold and Mrs. Katherine Brown Her- 
old, ex-, on January 13, at Indianapolis, a daughter. 



Deaths 

Ayres. — Alexander Craigmile Ay res, '68, died at his home in 
Woodruff Place, Indianapolis, on October 12, at the age of seventy- 
two years. To the four children of Judge Ayres who survive, The 
Quarterly extends its sympathy. 

Following is a memorial presented to the Indianapolis Bar Asso- 
ciation by a committee of which Judge Lawson M. Harvey, ex-'81, 
was chairman : 

"Alexander C. Ayres was born of Scotch parentage in Franklin 
county, Indiana, on the 9th day of November, 1846. He came to 
Marion county with his father in January, 1858, and lived with him 
on a farm in Center township. His early years were devoted to the 
drudgery of farm work. He was an obedient and industrious boy, 
early taught the necessities of careful living and his duty to his 
parents and the State. His example in the neighborhood of his 
home made him conspicuous as a boy unusually gifted with qual- 
ities that make men great. 

"His opportunities for schooling were those afforded the young 
in his early days. He was not satisfied with the limited instruction 
that was furnished in the country school. He was ambitious to ac- 
quire greater knowledge to fit him for the larger field of professional 
life that he had planned for himself. His father's business and 
political relations in affairs of county and State, gave young Alec, 
as he was called, an acquaintance among men of great legal attain- 
ments and filled him with a desire to emulate their examples. Chief 
among these were Thomas A. Hendricks, Conrad Baker, Oscar B. 
Hord, Abram Hendricks, and others who ranked high in the legal 
profession of that day. One of his greatest delights in later life was 
to exalt the memories of these men and to tell of their learning and 
greatness. 

"His keen desire was for a college education. The North West- 
ern Christian University, now Butler College, was then located in a 
large wooded tract of ground on the outskirts of Indianapolis, 
bounded on the west by College avenue and on the north and south 
by what is known as Thirteenth and Fourteenth streets. The uni- 



Deaths 313 

versity was the great educational institution of this part of Indiana 
and the center of much learning. Young Alec coveted a diploma 
from this institution, and, although living miles away, no task was 
too arduous for him to overcome, and the prize of merit so earnestly 
striven after was finally won. 

"An old citizen of this county, almost ninety years of age, who 
was a friend and neighbor, said a few years ago : 'What a remark- 
able boy Judge Ayres was ! I lived near him down in the country 
fifty years ago, when he was going to the university, and many a 
time when I was riding in my buggy to town early in the morning, 
I have given him a lift on his way to school.' 

"After his graduation he taught school for one year in Johnson 
county, Indiana, and then took a further step in the realization of 
his heart's desire. He entered the law offices of that renowned firm 
of Hendricks, Hord & Hendricks, and after three years of studious 
application to books and duty, he entered actively into the practice 
of law. His eminent fitness was soon manifest, and he became a 
successful lawyer from the very outset of his career. 

"His first partnership was formed with the Hon. Byron K. Elliott, 
who subsequently was elected to the Supreme bench, and became 
one of the most renowned jurists in Indiana. His partnership with 
Judge Elliott continued until the latter was elected judge of the 
Marion County Superior Court in 1876. He then became associated 
with Edgar A. Brown, and this partnership continued until 1882, 
when he was elected judge of the Nineteenth Judicial Circuit Court 
of Indiana, at that time composed of Marion and Hendricks counties. 
In this election he overcame a very large majority that prevailed in 
favor of the opposing party. His term of service marked him as a 
just and faithful public servant, who was far beyond any sugges- 
tion of wrong doing or partial conduct. His treatment of lawyers 
was always considerate and fair, and no act or word of his ever 
harshly jarred the sensibilities of the young or timid lawyer who 
was honestly trying to present his case. 

"Judge Ayres was consulted regarding many legislative enact- 
ments and framed many statutes which have a place among the laws 
of Indiana to-day. Conspicuous among them is the act pertaining 
to the organization of trust companies, which was written b}- him. 



314 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Pursuant to the provisions of this act, the Indiana Trust Company 
was the first to be formed in the State of Indiana. 

"Judge Ayres was a successful trial lawyer — not quick or brilliant 
in action, but slow, painstaking, methodical, and reliable. His 
knowledge of the law commanded the respect of all the judges. His 
insight into human nature was apparent in examining a witness, and 
his deliberation and fairness in trying his cases gained for him the 
respect and confidence of both judge and jury. 

"During the course of his life he was employed in many civil 
actions, and conducted them with great skill and learning. He es- 
pecially excelled in the trial of damage cases, but would never accept 
an employment except after careful examination to satisfy himself 
that it was meritorious. No lawyer at the bar was more diligent in 
the preparation of his cases for trial than Judge Ayres. The minut- 
est detail of facts and legal principles were examined into, and 
every witness carefully questioned as to his knowledge of facts be- 
fore being called to testify. His remarkable success is shown by a 
record of the loss of only one damage suit out of the many tried dur- 
ing one period of fifteen years. 

"Rugged and determined in manner, his intense earnestness at 
times made him truly eloquent, and, with face aglow with the fervor 
of a righteous cause, his expression of thought and feeling formed 
such a power of reasoning that the force of his arguments was hard 
to withstand. 

"Serene of temperament, inspiring confidence and friendship of 
many friends. Judge Ayres drew to him the love of his associates, 
and judges and lawyers alike for many years have sought the wis- 
dom of his counsel, and the delight of his companionship. 

"In politics he was a Democrat, not uncomprising and narrow, 
not one who only followed the lead of the party emblem in the 
choice of candidates, but, largely influenced by his own conception 
of the integrity and fitness of men, he cast his ballot accordingly. 
His judicial ticket was always framed after a careful consideration 
of the men proposed without reference to the ticket upon which the 
names appeared. 

"It is a pleasure to consider another phase of Judge Ayres's 
character. The rigors and necessities of his early life had deprived 



Deaths 315 

him of the enjoyments that come to most young men. Dancing, 
parties, and athletic sports were considered frivolous in his boy- 
hood days, and he was allowed to partake of none of them. But the 
desire to 'keep the heart young' only slumbered, and the awaken- 
ing came in his later days. With an intensity that brought joy and 
happiness into his life, and drove labor and sorrow away. Judge 
Ayres sowed and reaped the long denied pleasures of life in the 
fullest enjoyment. 

"What a pleasure it has been to witness, during his declining 
years, his childlike pleasure in the games of the young! In the 
dance or on the golf links, with the rod or with the gun, the joys of 
youth were in his voice and actions, and inspiration and sweetness 
followed in his path. 

"Gentle in disposition, patient in adversity, strong in moral worth, 
faithful in friendships, loyal in citizenship, dutiful in service, and 
true in every trust, the transcript of his life contains no reversible 
error, and the recorded judgment of a life well lived will abide 
forever." 

John E. Hollett, ex-'97, writes, in part : 

"Judge Ayres was a man who grew wonderfully in life. As an 
unsophisticated farmer boy he entered Butler College, where he 
began his life-long habit of being a close student. From old asso- 
ciates I learned that he showed no particular brilliance in his stud- 
ies, but was unusually thorough, and very strong in mathematics 
and those studies which called forth the reasoning faculties. After- 
ward, when he entered the law offices of Baker, Hord & Hendricks, 
he continued the close, hard study of the law. Here again, his asso- 
ciates, while realizing that he was a remarkably studious, clear- 
headed young man, saw no particularly brilliant future for him in 
the law. Mr. W. A. Ketcham said that as the years went by, he 
observed that Judge Ayres grew, and grew, and grew, while some of 
the other young men, with whom he compared Judge Ayres, seemed 
to have stood still or fallen by the wayside; and that finally after 
Judge Ayres had a little more slowly but thoroughly come into his 
full strength as an advocate he, Mr. Ketcham, realized that when he 
met Judge Ayres in court as an antagonist, this somewhat unprom- 
ising young lawyer had developed into one of the most formidable 



316 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

antagonists whom he had to meet. Mr. Ketcham's observations of 
Judge Ayres are true to the professional life of our departed friend. 
Judge Ayres was a fine student all his life, and though his full 
powers did not develop so early, his clear, sound mind seemed to 
grow and grow, until his intellect was that of a mental giant. 

"Judge Ayres had his serious hard times in early life and his 
boyhood and play-days after middle life. He learned to dance, fish, 
and play golf after he was forty years of age, and no one entered 
into these pastimes or sports with more zest and pleasure than did 
Judge Ayres. The goodness of the man's life fairly shone from his 
face, and up until within a few months of the time of his death 
he would dance with all the joy of a college boy. He was a very- 
fine golf player, and you who know the technique of golf also know 
that the mental status, care, and pains taken by the player have a 
great deal to do with the proficiency of the player. Judge Ayres 
played golf with the keenest pleasure imaginable, and he played the 
game in the same careful, deliberate manner that he practiced law. 
He was said to be slow — and so he appeared to be, in a fashion ; but 
he might better be described as deliberate. With this deliberateness 
there were also thoroughness and certainty, and when he decided 
a point of law or formed a conclusion, his clients and associates 
knew they could safely act on his judgment. In the trial of a law- 
suit, he was quick enough to see and value the weight of a fact, and 
he was so well grounded in the law that he seemed intuitively to be 
able to apply correctly the law to the facts. 

"Judge Ayres accumulated a competence out of his profession. 
Yet, apparently, the hardest thing in life for him to do was to fix 
his fee for legal services performed. He was always deeply ab- 
sorbed in his professional work, and he cared little for money, 
except for the good he could do with that money. His clients' in- 
terest was first in his mind, and his clients' interest or property in- 
trusted to him were always most carefully looked after and pro- 
tected. 

"Judge Ayres was a most loving husband and devoted father. His 
second son, Frank C. Ayres, was associated with him in the prac- 
tice of law at the time of the death of Judge Ayres. Judge Ayres 
continued in the practice for the last few years in order that he 



Deaths 317 

might better assist his son Frank to a good start in his profession. 
Mr. Frank C. Ayres was called to the colors about a year ago, and 
is now in France. * * * Just a few hours before Judge Ayres 
left us, he was cheered by a letter from his son in France, lovingly 
addressed to "Dear Dad." Those letters are coming almost daily to 
"Dear Dad" from the soldier son in France, but I feel sure that 
they are read and understood by that loving father who has gone on 
and whose last thoughts were of that son whom he loved so much. 

"There are no regrets over the life of Judge Ayres. Though we 
may mourn our loss, he had lived a trifle over his alloted three score 
and ten, and those years were filled with happiness, goodness, and 
duty to brothers, family, and country, well and fully performed." 

Brown. — Lieutenant Hilton U. Brown, Jr., '21, of the Seventh 
Field Artillery, was killed in action in the Argonne on November 3. 

To Mr. and Mrs. Hilton U. Brown, to their family, and to one 
other, The Quarterly extends its sympathy in their keen but glorified 
sorrow. 

"Fie lived a man ; he died a hero." These words of Claris Adams, 
ex-' 10, give a Simonidean utterance which cannot be improved upon. 
But fuller expression of what we all in Irvington have felt has 
been given by Mrs. Grace Julian Clarke, '83, which we reprint : 

" 'He died the way all soldiers would like to die — quickly, while 
doing his duty on the far-advanced battlefield of a great drive.' 

"This sentence from a letter of Lieutenant Paul Brown in refer- 
ence to his brother. Lieutenant Hilton U. Brown, Jr., possesses a 
distinct human interest and value. Similar expressions have come 
at intervals in other letters from France, expressions that ring true 
to the highest ideals of American manhood and make us rub our 
eyes to find out if we are awake or only dreaming, for those young 
soldiers who marched ofif such a short while ago were mere boys. 
The intervening months and the experiences through which they 
have passed have made philosophers and sometimes heroes of them. 

"In our village (for we do not yet regard Irvington as part of the 
city) we older residents who have known one another for many 
years feel almost like kinf oik. We may not say much about it ; per- 
haps in these latter decades we do not often meet, but the feeling is 



318 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

there, deep and abiding. It cannot be otherwise. Some of us went 
to college with Hilton Brown and Jenny Hannah and recall their 
happy courtship. The Brown family is an institution in Irvington, 
in which we older citizens feel almost a proprietary interest. We 
have welcomed every one of the ten babies and watched contentedly 
their growth and development. 

"Paul Brown, the youngest son, was not robust physically; there 
was some trouble with his breathing, apparently, that rendered the 
schoolroom irksome to him. He longed for the out-of-doors and 
when troops were sent to the Mexican border he persuaded his par- 
ents to allow him to enlist. He w-as only seventeen and had been 
the pet of the family. Then it was that Hilton, five years older and 
a junior in college, suddenly decided to go along to look after 'little 
Paul,' as he was affectionately called by his household. Together 
they went to Mexico, then through the first of^cers' training school, 
and later abroad, where they have never been far apart, and their 
devotion to one another has been a constant solace to the dear ones 
at home. 

"Hilton was a strapping fellow, tall and athletic, with the reddest 
cheeks, the brightest dark eyes, the most witching smile, and the 
merriest heart. Fond memory recalls him as a small boy bringing 
the evening paper, when his coming was actually an event, so ra- 
diant was his face and so keen seemed to be his joy in just breath- 
ing. We see him too in his first long trousers, timidly conscious of 
his new dignity, yet altogether satisfied. It is particularly pleasant 
to remember the bright look that always flashed from his eyes when 
he met old friends of his father's and mother's. Just once we saw 
Hilton and Paul and their brother Arch in khaki — at some college 
festivity, when they entered with their father, making a handsome 
appearance. 

"Now as we stand in imagination beside that new-made grave in 
the little town of Nouart, we find ourselves repeating these words 
quoted by Coningsby Dawson the other evening — 'Here lies a very 
gallant gentleman.' And we say it with head erect, and almost 
smiling, for after all there is more cause for congratulation than for 
sorrow. Of course in some moods we feel strongly that he should 
have died hereafter, that it was not fair that he should be cut down 



Deaths 319 

in the early dawn of what promised to be a long and useful career. 
But after all, what more could he have accomplished than he has 
done? To die 'quickly while doing his duty on the far-advanced 
battlefield of a great drive,' — what more glorious and worth while? 
Years could not have added anything to his record, which is now 
complete, — alike admirable and secure. The happy warrior knew 
for what he was fighting, and it was abundantly worth all that it 
could possibly cost. He did the thing he wanted to do and he made 
good. His was no faint heart. He ventured his all, and won. Now 
he has joined that vast throng of newly translated souls who, during 
the past four years, have found their way to the great Beyond. One 
fancies this glad young spirit, surprised at first perhaps at finding 
himself removed from scenes of conflict to a serener atmosphere, 
turning to greet with the familiar smile those comrades in arms who 
had made the passage ahead of him and also the dear lost members 
of his own household." 

Cassel. — Myrtle Blount Cassel, daughter of Mr. Frank C. Cas- 
sel, '67, and Mrs. Barbara Blount Cassel, '68, died of pneumonia in 
Washington, D. C, in December. To Mr. and Mrs. Cassel The 
Quarterly sends sympathy in their bereavement. Their letter of sad 
announcement is given : 

"By reason of serving as senate stenographer for several sessions 
of the State legislature, Myrtle had formed many acquaintances and 
made many friends in the city and throughout the State. Her at- 
tendance at the First Christian Church in the city led to her ac- 
quaintance with Mr. Philput and other members of that congrega- 
tion. 

"On the election of Hon. Will R. Wood, of Lafayette, to Con- 
gress for the Tenth District, she went with his family to W^ashing- 
ton, continuing to act as his private secretary. There she spent the 
last three years of her life, where she found a broader field of labor 
and usefulness. Her acquaintances increased and her friendships 
multiplied, giving her increased opportunity for doing good. 

"She was unselfish, always doing what she could to help others, 
regardless of her own comfort or condition. This past year when 
thousands of girls were flocking to Washington to enter the war 



320 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

offices, she found many opportunities to render assistance to those 
in need of friends. 

"She attended the Vermont Street and the Third Street Chris- 
tian churches in the capital city, making many friends in each. Her 
church membership remained in the First church, of Lafayette, 
Indiana. 

"Her loss falls most heavily on us, her parents and her brother 
and three sisters, who have loved her longest and best. 

"Her faith was in Christ and her hopes founded on the word of 
God." 

Cunningham. — Mrs. Lena Randall Cunningham, ex-, died at her 
home in Indianapolis on November 10. To Dr. John M. Cunning- 
ham, '01, and his daughter The Quarterly sends its sympathy. 

Of Mrs. Cunningham, a collegemate, Miss Emily Helming, '99, 
writes : 

"If anything could have added to the sense of tragedy in con- 
nection with the death of Mrs. John M. Cunningham, it was that 
she passed away the day before the armistice was declared, and that 
her friends were permitted to see her the afternoon the city was 
going wild in its joy. Mrs. Cunningham had suffered for several 
years from a weakness of the heart, and when, early in the fall, an 
infection of the hip set in, her condition quickly became serious. 
After a few weeks at a hospital, she was taken back to her home, 
where she lay in a state of coma till the time of her death at four- 
thirty of the morning of November 10. 

"Before her illness, Mrs. Cunningham was frequently hostess for 
the social affairs given by the Pi Beta Phi fraternity and she always 
charmed with her gracious personality. She was active in the work 
of the First Baptist Church and she left a large circle of friends 
there. 

"Miss Lena Randall came to Butler from Syracuse, New York, 
in the fall of 1897. After remaining with us two years, she re- 
turned to Syracuse to take a library course. Later she married Dr. 
John M. Cunningham, whom she had met while at Butler. In ad- 
dition to her husband, she left, in her immediate family, her mother, 
Mrs. Randall, and a daughter, Angelyn, twelve years old.' 



Deaths 321 

Mercer. — Wilson Russell Mercer, of the Butler Students' Train- 
ing Corps, died of pneumonia at the unit hospital on December 11, 
and was taken to his home in Anderson, Indiana, for burial. To 
Mrs. Mercer The Quarterly extends its tender sympathy in the loss 
of her only child. 

The Butler Collegian said, editorially : 

"The whole school is grieved to learn of the death of Wilson Rus- 
sel Mercer, a member of the Butler Students' Army Training Corps. 
The news came at a time when it was least expected and casts a 
shadow of sadness on the concluding days of the unit. 

"Wilson was a man both of athletic and scholastic ability. In 
high school he was a basketball enthusiast, and was on the Anderson 
High School team. He took part in school activities and was a 
member of the senate, the debating club, the glee club and the dra- 
matic club of Anderson High, and was a prominent member of his 
class. He was at Butler only since the beginning of the term, yet 
during this short time he has left us an unquestionable impression 
of his character and ability. He was a clean, manly fellow. While 
sick with influenza, he had the utmost confidence that he would get 
well soon. Even after his case had developed into pneumonia, he 
seemed patient and resigned, and did not entertain the slightest 
doubt that he would recover. 

"Butler, indeed, deeply regrets the loss of such a man. There 
seems to be little satisfying consolation for his death, yet his was the 
privilege to die in the service. He gave his life just as surely for 
the great cause as did those who faced the shells of the foe and fell 
on the battlefields of France. He died with the colors, and he will 
receive homage along with many other patriots on the Butler Roll 
of Honor." 

Moore. — Roll W. Moore, a former student, died at his home in 
Kokomo, Indiana, of pneumonia on November 30. To Mrs. Moore 
and the three children the Quarterly sends its sympathy. 
One who knew Mr. Moore well has written of him thus : 
"No charge of insincerity or efifusion can be offered against a little 
word of personal tribute to Roll Moore. He came of good Howard 
county pioneer stock. His father, Daniel W. Moore, and his two 
uncles, George W. and Edward A. Moore, all of whom have long 



322 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

been gone, will be recalled by all who knew Kokomo in the yester- 
year as men of the finest worth. Christian gentlemen, every one of 
them, upright, patriotic, and public spirited, each of them true as 
steel in every relation in life. It so happened that Roll was the 
only boy in all the family and when his father and his uncles were 
gone, he assumed courageously and uncomplainingly the responsi- 
bilities of the management of his family's affairs. He administered 
them conscientiously and wisely. To his own business affairs, he 
addressed himself with eagerness and energy, but through all the 
tension and worry of business cares, he was ever ready with un- 
selfish service for his family and friends. 

"Because he has been laid low in the full flower of his young 
manhood and of his usefulness, because of the irreparable loss his 
taking away brings to his family, and because he wanted so much 
to live and labor and achieve, there is something unusually sadden- 
ing about his death. The burden of bereavement is heaviest, of 
course, upon the little circle of his loved ones, but something of its 
weight will long be upon all his wide circle of associates. 

"Heavy in their breasts are the hearts of the boys who were his 
playmates and pals in the days of the old-time town — the boys who 
romped with him along the willowed windings of Prairie creek, 
who rioted with him in harmless mischief on the old high school 
grounds, and who made merry with him on unnumbered forays 
by field and stream. These are the boys who are to bear that which 
was mortal of him from his home to his tomb. It will be a sad 
little circle that will make this mournful journey. For each and 
for all it will mean that the way from now on will be a little 
lonelier — that something of the light-heartedness and laughter of 
the old life has been lost forever." 

PiCKERiLL. — William Nimon Pickerill, '60, died in Indianapolis 
on November 5. To the four daughters of Mr. Pickerill, the Quar- 
terly extends its sympathy. 

Others more competent have spoken of Mr. Pickerill as lawyer, 
as citizen, as soldier ; but the Quarterly wishes to bear tribute to 
this good man as loyal alumnus. Indeed, were we asked to name 
the graduate who modestly had expressed a more unswerving loyalty 



Deaths 323 

to his Alma Mater, we should not hesitate to utter the name of 
W. N. Pickerill. He translated into living the lessons of his old 
masters at the North Western Christian University. He had that 
rare quality of gratitude and often expressed his indebtedness to 
those masters. Then, he returned to the college on every occasion 
possible — on baccalaureate afternoon, commencement morning, 
Founder's Day evening, Decoration Day. Often and often he 
slipped into the chapel and out without recognition. His last public 
appearance at the college was on May 30, 1917, and many who 
listened to the words of the Civil War veteran will not forget 
them. In commenting upon the program, the Quarterly of July, 
1917, said : 

"The chief talk of the day was that of William N. Pickerill, of 
the class of '60, and a beautiful talk it was. Mr. Pickerill pictured 
the quiet academic life when the call to arms came, the enthusiastic 
response of eager, unrealizing youth. He pictured camp life and 
battle life, closing with Gettysburg. It caused much feeling. The 
Quarterly wishes here to express its respect for and gratitude to 
this faithful alumnus, this upright citizen, this good man. He slips 
in and out of the college performances so quietly that many recog- 
nize not his presence ; he is so modestly interested in college life that 
few realize his loyalty; and yet, for well-nigh sixty years he has 
been a faithful servant of the college, an honor to his Alma Mater. 
Our gratitude goes to you, Mr. Pickerill, and the Latin prayer we 
raise, 'Serus in coelum redeas.' " 

Mr. Pickerill furnished much valuable information on the past 
history of the college, especially on the history of the years of the 
Civil War. His article on "Gettysburg," written for the Quarterly 
of October, 1913, has been esteemed by those who know it. 

A good friend of Butler College has fallen and the ranks are 
closing in of those men of the 60's who have enriched the histon,' 
of the college. That we are able to present elsewhere the appre- 
ciation of Mr. Austin F. Denny, '62, is a matter of gratitude. 

In the name of the Alumni Association flowers were sent to 
Mr. Pickerill's funeral. In acknowledgement, this note was re- 
ceived : 



324 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

"Alumni Association, Butler College: 

"My sisters and I wish to thank you for your lovely expression of 
sympathy in the flowers you sent to our father, Mr. Pickerill. He 
loved Butler and all its institutions and it touched us deeply that you 
remembered him so beautifully. Sincerely, 

"Blanch Pickerill Dickson." 

RoBisoN. — Lieutenant Bruce Pettibone Robison, '15, died on 
November 19, near Camp Dodge, Iowa. To Mr. and Mrs. Robison 
the Quarterly sends its sympathy in their grief. 

"From my earliest boyhood I can remember Bruce Robison dis- 
tinctly. As a youngster I used to go over to the Hibben yard to 
play. There I used to see Bruce with several of his contemporaries. 
Later I knew them all in college. But Bruce was singled out as my 
childish ideal. I was one of the youngsters tolerated for one of two 
reasons, either because I owned the football that they wanted to 
play with, or because I was convenient to use as the butt of their 
humor. But I was always flattered to death to be allowed to 
remain, in spite of very unceremonious treatment. Bruce identified 
himself and won my heart on an occasion when there was a round 
of argument as to whether to run the small boys home or let them 
stay. He championed the small boys, and from that time forward 
I regarded him with a mixture of awe and wonder and aflfection. 

'T knew him more intimately when it came time to go to college. 
Under these circumstances the average youth is fraught with doubts. 
Pie doubts whether he will be one of the chosen few to associate 
with the deities on Mount Olympus, in other words whether he will 
be a Greek or not. That question settled, the next doubt is what 
kind of a Greek he will be. For me it was simple. I would follow 
Bruce. So I did, and grew to know him intimately, to have intense 
affection for him, and to find him always absolutely dependable, 
honest, sincere, and excellent company. He was the leader of every- 
thing he tried. His word was always final. He was the object of 
deference, never of fear. His opinion was always sought. What 
he said was very likely to go, both because he was usually right 
and because he was the one who put things over. And with all he 
was a human among humans. He was always kindly, always gen- 
tlemanly, and always the best of good fellows. 



Deaths 325 

"Then Bruce left us and went to Washington. I'll always re- 
member the next time I saw him. It was at the start of the training 
camp at Ft. Harrison. Being on the ground early, I drew a fine 
job. I had to measure feet for shoes. Every foot that came into 
camp had to receive my attention for a while. And there were so 
many the process became mechanical. I would sing out with a voice 
of great authority, 'Take off your right shoe.' Once a familiar 
voice said, 'Not so fast.' I looked up and here was Bruce with a 
characteristic grin. After exchanging a few words I asked him if 
he was a student here. 'No, I'm a second lieutenant.' My idea 
of a second was a green-eyed monster who ate recruits alive be- 
tween meals, and who couldn't be human enough to be decent even 
to his best friend. But not so with Bruce. I never saw him when 
he wasn't first a human being and a gentleman, and then an officer. 

"Later I was assigned to his company. Quite contrary to all army 
customs and regulations, he was beautifully decent to every one. 
There are some people with whom superiority is so natural, so 
inbred and inherent that it isn't necessary to invite others' attention 
to it. They see and respect it without being told. And he was 
that kind. An officer is rare who can win his way into his men's 
hearts and yet retain their respect. He never criticised or 'bawled 
us out.' He didn't have to. We all wanted to do the right thing 
for him, 

"He knew he was no better versed in military science than the 
rest of us. He had been sent there as a student officer to learn 
what was taught. To many, that would have been insufferable, 
but he took it with good grace and learned what was to be taught. 
His position was much the same as the 'Beloved Captain' no doubt 
familiar to all. 

"The last time I saw him was after camp. We met on the street 
in the city and each was anxious to find out where the other had 
been sent. He was assigned as physical instructor to a colored 
officers' training school. 

" 'How do you like the assignment ?' I asked. 

" 'It's not for me to say. I am a soldier and those are my or- 
ders.' 

"So he is gone. He has his orders. He has won his spurs, and 



326 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

he was a soldier to the last, I am sure. He is one of about twenty 
intimate friends who went out, and the only one who will never 
return. He never got to fight. He never knew the ecstasy of 
danger flung to the winds, of giving his all on the field of action 
But the result is the same. He paid the big price, but didn't know 
the big compensation. He played the game, fought the good fight, 
and did his best, as every American soldier should. The world is 
a better place to live in, and our traditions are richer because he 
was with us." Lieutenant Henry M. Jameson, ex-'18. 

ScHERER. — Margery Scherer, a former student, died at her home 
in Indianapolis, of pneumonia, on December 6. To Mr. and Mrs. 
Scherer and their family The Quarterly sends its sympathy in the 
loss of a daughter so loving, unselfish, helpful at home and abroad. 
Indeed, we all valued Margery Scherer, and it is a grief to many 
people that this young life must be so soon cut ofir. 

Of Miss Scherer a friend writes : 

"Once more we pause to offer a tribute of respect, admiration, 
and love, to one whose personality was a source of courage and 
inspiration to many, and whose brief life gave rare promise of 
altruistic and noble achievement. Miss Margery Scherer is one of 
the many who have caught the vision offered in this wonderful age 
whose keynote is 'service for others,' and who stand ready to make 
any sacrifice necessary in the realization of that ideal. 

"Her death was caused by pneumonia following an attack of the 
Spanish influenza. To her many friends, the news came as a dis- 
tinct shock, bringing with it a sense of personal loss. She was a 
faithful, tireless worker, who threw herself, heart and soul, into all 
she undertook; a generous, true, loyal friend — unselfish even to a 
fault. 

"With the exception of the first three years of her life, when she 
lived in Duluth, Minnesota, where she was born September 7, 1892, 
she was at home in Indianapolis. In Shortridge High School, from 
which she graduated in 1912, she was an eager, thorough student, 
intending to become a teacher of Latin. During the first year at 
Butler College, she was a delegate to the Y. W. C. A. convention 
held in Richmond, Indiana, in March, 1913. There her religious 



Deaths 327 

convictions were deepened and crystalized. Subsequently she en- 
larged her Hfe plans and became a Student Volunteer. 

"During the three years at Butler, she was active in the Y. W. 
C. A. cabinet and in missionary work. Finding true joy in service, 
she willingly and faithfully performed any duty that called, no mat- 
ter how insignificant or thankless a task it might be. She often 
went far beyond her strength, ministering all night long to some 
sick or dying friend, or sewing for some of the children of the mis- 
sion, or the orphans who had interested her. With her quick, sweet 
smile, cheery word, and thoughtful kindness, she sought to make 
life less difficult for those about her. 

"Having joined Trinity M. E. Church at the age of twelve, she 
was always an active worker in the Sunday school, church, and 
Epworth League, and for four or five years was a Camp Fire 
guardian. During the summer of 1917 she helped chaperon the 
Y. W. C. A. Camp at Lake Orian, Michigan, and last summer taught 
in the Children's Aid Society in Mishawaka, Indiana. She was 
a successful high school teacher in Freedom, Burney, and New 
Palestine, Indiana. 

"In the rosy flush of youthful strength and enthusiasm, she 
touched a wide circle of hearts, in which her uplifting influence 
will be lasting, and her memory will ever be cherished. Imper- 
ceptibly at first — without the intervening glory of a long day of 
achievement — then with startling rapidity, the soft tints of the 
dawning deepened into the warmer, richer colors of the sunset. The 
evening star appeared ; and after that, for a time, the dark ; and 
Margery responded to the one clear call." 

Amy Banes Groom, '15. 

ScoTT. — Mrs. John C. Scott, a former student, died on October 
26 at the Methodist Hospital, Indianapolis, and was buried from her 
home at Columbus, Indiana. Mrs. Scott will be remembered by 
her college friends as Miss Hazel Reeves, and the news of her death 
has been most regretful. To Mr. Scott and the four sons the 
Quarterly sends its sympathy. 



328 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

Gans. — Mary Purdy Gans, last child of Emmett W. Gans, '87, 
died at Mansfield, Ohio, on January 10. To Mr. Gans in his sorrow 
The Quarterly sends deep sympathy. 

Mary Gans was five years of age at her mother's death, the oldest 
of three children. She spent much time in the home of her grand- 
mother, Mrs. Weldon, at Mansfield, there receiving her primary 
education. A year in Paris, with continental travel, preceded her 
academic course. Last June she graduated from Vassar College, 
radiant in charm of person, of mind, of soul. The past six months 
have been spent with her father in Washington. In December the 
fatal influenza seized her in New York. Supposedly convalescent, 
she returned for the holidays to Mansfield, where a relapse closed 
her eyes upon earth. 

What all feel has been expressed by Katharine Jameson Lewis, 
*16: "When Rupert Brooke wrote of 'the lordliest lass of earth, — 
the heart so high, the heart so living,' he caught in a line the swift 
portrait of one whom we newly mourn. Full-statured, mistress of 
a graceful mentality, in spirit the noble woman whose measure her 
years had hardly attained, Mary Gans has left the circle of her 
friends struck to the heart at the loss of her. There may have 
been girls as full of the abundance of life; there may have been 
girls gifted with as beautiful a balance of mind ; there may even 
have been girls her equal in gentle dignity, in open-handed, whole- 
some loveliness; but with heaviness of soul, we know we shall not 
look upon her like again." 



Our Correspondence 

David Rioch, '98, Damoh. India, October 23, 1918 : By this last 
home mail, came the Butler Alumnal Quarterly with its interesting 
news of the commencement exercises, the splendid letters from 
the boys at the Front, Mr. MacLeod's great letter, and, by no means 
least, the list of those who attended commencement, bringing to 
memory the great days spent in Butler. I do wish to express my 
appreciation of this number of the Alumnal for it seemed to me 
to be one of the very best we have ever had given to us. It came 
to me at a time that made it more than welcome for it found me 
miles away from any of our own people. It came after sundown, 
when the day's work was about over, just at the time of day when 
a man who lives alone most enjoys good company. Its great mes- 
sages came at a time when they could be most appreciated, for the 
day had been hard with the awful suffering and terror that were 
seen on every hand. We have been passing through an epidemic 
of influenza the like of which I have never heard. The dread plague 
that visits us every other year is a babe compared to this we are 
now having. As the natives say, we can run away from plague 
but no one can escape from this. In the town of Hatta where I 
now am, with its population of about four thousand, the death rate 
this past week has been between twenty and twenty-five daily. 
What makes it so hard is that every one, in almost every home, is 
down ill and there is no one left to wait on the sick. In some 
homes every one has lain down and died. Five in one home, six 
in another, dead without a soul even to report their deaths. In 
one home of eighteen every one of them died, and so the tale goes 
on day by day. The greatest difficulty is to get enough well people 
to dispose of the dead. The Hindu burns his dead and now there is 
a wood famine. Most of the men who are supposed to help in 
times like this are all ill, and so the people are terror- and panic- 
stricken. Poor, superstitious, ignorant folk, as most of them are, 
one yearns to help and comfort them. Daily, as one goes in and out 
among them, the opportunities for service are many. How I wish 



330 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

we could have some of those noble fellows, who are giving their 
lives in France, out here helping to save some of these stricken 
people. 

Things do look hard these days, for not only is there this awful 
epidemic, but famine is beginning to stalk through the land. The 
rains have been a failure and the crops are drying up in the fields. 
Prices are higher than they were during the worst famines we have 
had and so we, who live out among the people, are wondering 
what they are to do. 

I want to thank you for this splendid number of the Alumnal 
and also to ask you to give my best wishes to all my Butler friends, 
wishing them a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. 

Mrs. E. H. Hollands, Lawrence Kansas : As I read the last 
Quarterly, I could not but compare the letters of the Butler boys 
with those that have been published here from Missouri and Kan- 
sas "doughboys." The Quarterly letters told in interesting and 
well-expressed English what they did and their attitude toward 
conditions. I felt uplifted after going right through those pages. 
Their ideals had been high, else they could not have written as 
they did. 

James G. Randall, '03, dated November 8 : I spent eight weeks 
of the summer at the University of Illinois as professor of American 
History in the Summer School, following which I spent two weeks 
in Indiana lecturing before teachers' institutes under the auspices of 
the committee on public information. Since September 7, I have 
been employed as historian of the United States Shipping Board, 
in which position I have been extremely busy, but nevertheless 
quite happy. There are many good Butler people here and it is a 
great delight to me to see them and to renew old associations. Mr. 
Moses, Mallie Murphy, the Cummings's and the Schortemeier's 
are among our good friends here. With best regards to all good 
Butler friends. 

John W. Barnett, '94, Boston: I have been at work at the re- 
ceiving ship ever since I returned from overseas ; and as we have 
anywhere from 5,000 to 10,000 men on board all the time, you can 



Our Correspondence 331 

see that one would naturally be kept busy. It may be of interest to 
you to know that the chaplain in charge here is D. S. Robinson, 
'10, and it is good to have another Butler man on board. I want 
to say, by the way, that he is a mighty good fellow, and is making 
good with the boys. With a whole world full of good wishes for 
Butler and all her alumni, students, and friends. 

Mary L. Winks, '15, November 21, 1918 : From the port to Tours 
we came through a very beautiful and charming country, — in fact, 
it has been called the "garden spot of France." The fields were 
gardens each about an acre in size, the fences were hedges, and 
produce still green. Women were doing the work. All were in 
black with little stiffly-starched white caps on their heads, and large 
wooden shoes on their feet. The children along the way waved at 
us. The smooth white roads bordered with tall poplars, the new 
foliage, the bright green grass, the quiet streams, the vineyards on 
the hillsides, the quaint old towns, the picturesque stone farmhouses, 
and the queer homes of the clifif dwellers, made a picture I shall 
never forget. 

On arriving in Tours we were taken to a hotel run by the Y. 
W. C. A. for American girls. It is better than I had been led to 
expect and it was so much better than the boys have that we cannot 
complain. We have an interesting time with the French maids, 
trying to understand and to be understood. I wish I had taken 
French in college instead of German. 

Our office building is a stable and is cold, but we enjoy it not- 
withstanding. My work is as it was in Washington, the filing 
of index cards for all sections of the Engineering Division of the 
Ordnance Department. It is impossible to tell more of my work, 
except to add that it is very interesting. 

The other day while hurrying to the ofhce I met Ed Ploenges, 
the first familiar face I have seen. 

There are several interesting places around here, and we usually 
spend Sunday afternoon in sight-seeing. We have been to the 
Chateau de Luynes, an old chateau where the king was staying 
when Joan of Arc came to ask his permission to lead the French 
army. We climbed up the tower and out on the battlements, from 



332 Butler Alumnal Quarterly 

which a wonderful view of the surrounding country was obtained. 
Here was the old feudal estate with the houses closely grouped 
around the foot of the hill on which the castle stood, on the distant 
hillsides acres and acres of grape vines, nearby the cemetery with 
its old and new crosses and the ancient church, and in the distance 
the beautiful Loire river. If only those old walls and towers could 
talk, what interesting tales they could tell. 

Last Sunday we went out to an old tenth-century castle now in 
ruins, but we climbed up in one of the towers amid centuries old 
dust. From the highest window in this ancient castle flew a bright 
new Tricolor and the Stars and Stripes. 

About two squares from the hotel is the cathedral. It was begun 
in the twelfth century and completed in the sixteenth. The won- 
derful stained glass windows have been intact since they were placed 
there. When you see all the intricate carvings and beautiful fur- 
nishings you cannot but think of how many men through centuries 
of time have spent their labor and their talent on this building. 
Then you think of the other cathedrals that represent the soul of 
France, that the Germans have so wantonly destroyed. Every fif- 
teen minutes the big bells peal out. 

Last week was one grand celebration. France is decked in gala 
attire, bright new flags fly from every house, store, and public build- 
ing, while "Vive la France," "Vive la America," was on every one's 
lips. I never saw such exuberance of joy. A wonderful smile lit 
the faces of the hitherto sad French people, a smile one can never 
forget. The first night the Hotel de Ville, which had been dark 
since the beginning of the war, was a blaze of light. France has 
lost her men, but her unconquered and unconquerable spirit still 
remains. 

I am looking forward to the coming of the Quarterly. It will 
seem like a visit home. 



Notice 

With all the financial demands of the day, do not forget your 
annual alumni fee. The Quarterly is dependent upon it. Send 
one dollar to the alumni treasurer, Carl Van Winkle, Butler College, 
Indianapolis. But send all other alumni communications to Miss 
Graydon, Butler College. 



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