Latin School Register

The Register

BOSTON LATIN SCHOOL

MARCH, 1907

VOL. XXVI., No. 7

A d v ertisements

ARAM STUDIO

74 and 88 BOYLSTON STREET - - BOSTON, MASS.

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THE REGISTER

CONTENTS FOR MARCH

The Love of Man ... Page 3

A Childhood Tale ... Page 5

Goode's First Game - Page 8

Notes ------- Page 9

Editorials ------ Page 10

George Washington, the

Statesman - • - Page 1 2

7. Basket-Ball ----- Page 13

8. Track ------- Page 1 5

A d

v

m

n

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Latin School Register

Volume XXVI., No.

MARCH, 1907.

Issued Monthly

THELOVE OF A MAN

JACK Doyle thought it was a hot day. The
perspiration poured off him in steady
streams, the heat was oppressive, he
could not breathe, and he sat there, a martyr to
circumstances, ardently wishing for the good
old winter-time, when suddenly a bright idea
struck him. Now this was not remarkable,
for Jack was noted for his bright ideas, but this
one seemed to promise so much pleasure that
he jumped around, giving a poor imitation of
an Indian war-dance. When he remembered
that the day was hot and so the war-dance
ceased. On account of his brilliant inspiration,
none other than that of going in swimming, he
found himself, a little later, at the X street
bath-house.

Just as he was walking across the sand to
enter the water, he heard his name called out,
and turning around, he saw one of his old Latin
School friends. " Hello, Bill," said he,
stretching out his hands, " put it there, old
man. How are you, any way ? Are you
working ? " Having received a scornful answer
to his last question, intimating that he should
know better than to ask foolish questions,
he sat down in the sun with his friend, and
they talked about school, politics, the weather,
and base-ball. Finally a dip in the water was
suggested. " This is only the second time
I've been in swimming this season " said Jack.
«• Well, let's swim out to the island." The
island, so-called, was a ledge or sand-bar, on
which, at low tide, one could stand and keep
his head above water, but the ledge was at all

times under water. After much swimming
around, neither of the two friends had found
the island. " Get it yet, Bill ? " asked Jack.
" No, I just touched it, but I lost again."
Jack did not feel right. He had often swum
five times as far as he had just gone, but to-day,
somehow, he felt " all in." Another fellow,
who was also looking for the island, noticed it,
and, after Bill had found the ledge, and the
three were resting on it, the stranger asked Jack
how he felt. "I don't know," said Jack.
" I don't feel tired but I have a queer feeling
in my limbs; I can't explain it." " You had
better take a good long rest here," said the
stranger. But the tide was rapidly rising,
and the longer they waited the greater would
be the swim back to shore. So they started,
Bill and the stranger going in at a rapid rate,
but Jack slowly saving his strength.

When Bill and the stranger reached the
shore, Jack had not gone half the distance.
And what was the matter with his arm ? He
could not move it ! It was numb ! Cramped !
He never had had a cramp before, but this
must be a cramp. The other two fellows
were on the shore, the life savers' boat was at
the other end of the enclosure. Well, he
must keep cool, that was the first, the most
important thing. He turned over and tried to
swim on his back. How slowly he was going !
Turning on his breast again, he saw the shore
was still a good distance away. He was weak
and exhausted. It would be strange if he
should drown there, with so manv people

4 Latin School Register

about. But he must not think of that. No.
And he would not call the life-savers' boat.
No. He would get in, he could get in. How
tired his limbs were ! What little force there
was in his arm! How slowly his breath
was coming ! He did not seem to be moving
at all. Then he noticed the stranger was
watching him. That gave him courage. But
the stranger was a long distance away, and his
breath was coming slowly now. He was very
near the shore. Five strokes more and he
would be able to stand up. But his legs were
so tired. He could hardly move them. " Can
you make it ? asked the stranger at his side.
"I — guess — so. " He would make it. He

hated a scene. He . But the stranger,

seeing him about to sink, grasped him and
held his head above water. Jack knew he must
keep cool. Making one last effort, he threw
himself out of the water, waved his hand at the
boat and called, " Help." Then he sank back.
He tried to remember what a drowning person
should do. He tried to tread water, he must
not take hold of his rescuer, and then every-
thing was black and the bow of the boat shot
out of the darkness. He clung to it; it floated
toward the shore; he felt the ground under his
feet. He tottered in to the shore. How
dizzy he was ! He wanted to fall down on
the sand and sleep, but first he shook hands
with his preserver. They exchanged names
and Jack said, " I hope, Jim Scanlon, to be able
to do as much for you some day."

*

*

*

Ten years later. Jack had taken a course in en-
gineering, had graduated, had performed several
brilliant, but rather unimportant feats of engi-
neering, and, at last, his chance had come.

Peru, after the opening of the Panama canal,
became very progressive. The valuable mines
in the interior were worked, and the timber and
medicinal plants were prepared for exportation.
The government, replying to the demands of

the people, began to build railroads to transport
these products to the Pacific. The Andes
were a cause of much trouble, and tunnels,
up-grades, suspension bridges, and manv other
devices were resorted to. Finally, the progress
of the principal railroad, which was to have its
terminal at Callao, the best seaport of the
country, was stopped. It was necessary to
throw a bridge from the top of one sharp peak
to the top of another, about four hundred yards
away. After two Frenchmen, several Germans,
an Englishman, and an American had attempted
to do it, but, on account of the nature of the
spot, had failed, the world thought it im-
possible.

Not so Jack Doyle. He knew the place,
having been in the vicinity several years before.
He felt that he could build the bridge. He
interested some American capitalists, obtained
the contract and went to Peru, taking with him,
as his right-hand man, Jim Scanlon. The
friendship which was formed on the sand of the
X street bath-house had developed into a great
love, the love of man for man.

Jack had conquered. He had won out
where others had failed, he had built the
bridge. He was the greatest engineer of his
day, and the world was ringing with the praises
of his name. And now, with dear old Jim at
his side, he was going home to his friends.

During these meditations, Jim and he were
riding, with several servants, along a rough moun-
tain pass, where a mis-step meant a fall of two
hundred feet to the rocks below. Suddenly
Jim's mule shied, and Jack saw his friend
thrown to the ground. The impetus carried
him to the edge of the precipice. He attempts
to cling to the foliage growing in the path, but
the force of the fall carries him over the side,
and grasping madly at the side of the mountain
he slips down faster and faster towards the
ragged rocks. But see ! Sixty feet below is a
shelf-like projection. If, by grasping at the
mountain-side, he can break his fall, and land

Latin School Register 5

gently on this projection, he may be saved.
He strikes it with a crash, rolls off, and then,
with madness of despair, throws his arm around
it. He clings there, but, dazed and weakened by
his fall, he cannot raise himself enough to raise
his body on to the projection. His strength
is rapidly giving out. What can be done ?

Above, Jack Doyle takes in the situation in a
glance. Hastily sending one of the men to a
near-by plantation for a rope, he throws off his
coat and shoes, and deliberately commences to
climb down to his friend. It seems impossible;
at any minute he may be dashed to the bottom.
But Jack performs the impossible, and, at last,
bends over his friend, and draws him up to
safety. But is it safety ? The shelf on which
the two men are standing was formerly part of
a great mass of stone, but, by some convulsion
of nature, had been loosened, and now, dis-
turbed by the unaccustomed weight of the two
men, begins to tremble, it moves slightly. A
crack appears between the mountain-side and
the rock which holds them. It is separating
itself, and both men will be thrown, a hundred
feet below, to death. Where is the man sent
for the rope ? Will he never come ? Calling
to the men above, Jack learns that he is not yet
in sight. How long will the stone hold them?
Not long, it is now trembling violently. Some-
thing must be done.

Then a fearful thought strikes Jack. Perhaps
it will hold one of them. Perhaps their com-
bined weight is too much, li one left it, would
the other be saved ? Instantly he makes
up his mind. It was worth trying. He took
one last look around him. How happy every-
thing was ! How sweet was life ! He was so
young. He must leave his friends, his hard-
earned honors. Just in the moment of victory
he must have everything snatched away from
him. Why should he go? Why not Jim?
But he remembers that day so long ago when
Jim saved him. His love for the man bursts out
stronger than ever ; it overcomes his love for
life and glory. He grasps Jim by the hand
and whispers hoarsely, "Jim, we're quits."
Then he jumps far out into space, and falling,
strikes the sharp, jagged rocks, which cut and
gash him.

His sacrifice was not in vain, for Jim, a few
minutes later, was drawn up to safety. Down
in the gully they found Jack's poor, torn body,
and there, on the site of his heroism, there,
where his actions proved that his love for man
was love, they buried him. A humble slab
marks the spot, on which is inscribed this
simple legend, " He died thatj another J^man
might live. "

T. G. G., '08. .

A CHILDHOOD TALE

IN my boyhood days I lived in a large sea-
port town, situated on the border of an
agricultural district. The town was on
the banks of a river, about tour miles from its
mouth, and possessed a good dock, where large
sea-going vessels from all countries found
anchorage. The surrounding country was ex-
tremely beautiful, dotted here and there with
|ts quaint farm-houses, and the river flowed

peacefully to the sea between its verdant banks.
Many a long tramp have I taken along those
country roads, overhung by huge trees, and
fragrant with the scent from the bushes on either
side, in the profound stillness of a warm sum-
mer day, only broken by the humming of insects
or some indistinct sound from a distant farm-
house. Often, however, in a leisure hour I
would wander to the docks and watch the ship-

6 Latin School Register

ping. The bustle and activity there had for me
a fascination which I could not resist. I loved
to see the large ships loaded or unloaded and
the cargoes hurried to their destination by wagon
or train ; to see a vessel come in, drawn by a
tug boat, or another clearing her decks ready for
a voyage.

Thus it was that when my two cousins, Fred
and Jack, came down from the city to visit me,
I soon found time to take them to see the docks.
They were both several years my senior, Fred
being sixteen, while Jack was fifteen. Natur-
ally they were as interested in these things as I,
and therefore one bright summer day we set out
on a visit to the place of interest. We wan-
dered around for some time, when we were
seized with a great desire to go on board one of
the vessels and see what things looked like there.
At the time we happened to be near a large
sailing-ship, with its cargo on board and
evidently waiting for the tide to come in and
make the river navigable. Seeing a man stand-
ing near the gang-plank, Jack hailed him and
asked if we could visit the ship. At first he did
not seem to understand him, but finally he made
a sign for us to come up the plank. We
accepted the invitation eagerly and were soon on
board, and as it was the first time that any of
us had been on a large sailing ship, our curiosity
was great.

As soon as I stepped on the deck my attention
was attracted by the man who had given us the
invitation. He was a tall, muscular man, with
bushy eye-brows, and long, tangled hair. His
clothes were coarse and dirty, and under his
shirt could be seen the outline of a knife. He
could speak a kind of broken English, and from
him we learned that the ship and crew were
Norwegian and were bound for Norway,
Our guide took us all over the ship, explaining,
as far as he understood English, the uses of the
numerous ropes and sails. As we approached
the stern, J was amused to see several men
seated on the deck with bowls in front of them,

washing some of their clothes, which they after-
wards hung up to dry on a line from the cabin
to the mast.

I do not know how long we had been on the
vessel, when Fred happened to notice that the
sun had almost set. Drawing our attention to
this fact, he started for the gang-plank. What
was our surprise to find that it had been with-
drawn. Thinking that we had been forgotten,
Jack asked our guide to have it let down for us.
The man only laughed, and told us that we had
better spend the night on board. Then it was
that an awful fear 'began to take hold of us.
The vessel was loaded and the tide would be
right in a few hours. What if we should be
kidnapped ? What could save us ?

The man who had shown us the ship ap-
proached and bade us follow him. Fearing to
disobey and knowing that resistance was useless,
we went. He led us to a small cabin, away
from the forecastle, containing several bunks..
Here he left us with the order to go to bed as
soon as we could. This we did, bewailing our
folly for ever getting ourselves into such a dan-
gerous position ; for if we were not rescued
before we left the harbor, we might never see
home again, but live a dog's life for the rest of
our days on a foreign vessel and in foreign lands.
On the whole, it was not a very cheerful out-
look for us to contemplate.

In about half an hour he returned, bringing
with him some old ragged clothes, which he
left with us, taking away our own. Thor-
oughly tired out with exhaustion after our day's
travels and with fear, we all fell asleep. When
I awoke I noticed a gentle motion running
through the ship, and awoke my cousins. We
hastily dressed in our new clothes, or, to be
exact, extremely old ones, and crept noiselessly
on deck. You can imagine our horror when
we found the vessel under sail and moving gently
through the water. It was a dark, cloudy night,
and we could see no lights or land. Since a
tug always draws the large vessels down the

Latin School Register 7

river, I knew at once that we must be starting
on our journey across the ocean. This would
never do. We must escape, and escape at
once.

Like most ships of its kind, this one had small
boats hanging at regular intervals along each side
of the deck. We started from the door of the
companion-way and moved toward the boat
farthest from any of the crew. Our plan was
to lower a boat and slip away, without any one
knowing it. Before we had proceeded many
feet, one of the watch heard us. He mumbled
something to a companion. My heart almost
stopped beating, but he did not molest us. He
evidently thought that it was the creaking of the
sails* Warned by this occurrence, we were
more careful afterwards. Untying the ropes,
we started to lower the boat. Alas for our
hopes ! The pulleys on which the boat hung
were seldom used, and the moment the ropes
moved they creaked loud enough to be heard
all over the deck. Men began to hasten in our
direction. In desperation, we let the boat into
the water with a splash and climbed down the
rope. As soon as this was cut, the boat started
to drift away, and was quickly lost in the dark-
ness. We were free, but in our haste we had
neglected to take with us either oars or food.

At firsL we did not notice this omission, so
great was our joy at escape; thus we drifted
about all night, not knowing where we were or
in what direction home lay. We could see
lights approaching us over the waier, only to
swerve and pass by us very far off. Indeed,
even if ships had come near us, we could not have
been seen, and would only have been in danger
of being run down in the dark. So tne night
passed, and day dawned, with fog and no sun.
As the hours went by, the fog thickened instead
of disappearing, making it impossible to see
more than a hundred feet in any direction. It
was now that our lack of food bothered us, for
we were beginning to get extremely hungry.
The oars were not missed, because if we had

possessed any, we did not know where to row,
and the chances are that we should have rowed
away from home. As there was not much
chance of being picked up in such a fog, we
decided to make the best of a bad bargain and
tried to keep our minds off our hunger. To
accomplish this we swapped yarns, each in his
turn telling some story which he thought would
interest the others. This was but a poor sub-
stitute for a good dinner, but it was all we
had. There was no use in grumbling, which has
never accomplished anything yet.

Some time in the afternoon, there was no way
of telling the exact hour, the storm, which had
been threatening all the morning, broke. That
was the worst storm I have ever seen, and I
hope never to encounter another like it; at least
not when I am in an open row-boat on a large
expanse of water. The lightning was most
vivid. It seemed to be striking in three or four
directions at the same time, and traveled from
cloud to cloud, looking like a huge display of
fire-works. The storm, being directly over our
heads, made the very ocean tremble with its
thunder. It was only with great difficulty that
the boat was kept afloat, and we were kept busy
bailing out the water with our caps. One
moment we would be balancing on the summit
of a huge wave, and the next would find us in
the trough, with walls of water towering all
around us. At first, as each successive wave
struck us, we would think that we were lost;
but after a while we came to have faith in our
gallant little boat and understood that with con-
stant bailing we could manage to keep her afloat.

Towards evening, our hunger knew no
bounds. We had eaten nothing for over a day,
and the constant exercise of bailing had by no
means lessened our appetite. To add to our
troubles, the storm was still raging, and the
bailing must still continue. Therefore, with
the falling of darkness, there came no rest, but
only hunger, toil, and drenched clothes. How
we passed that night I know not. We were

8 Latin School Register

living in a kind of nightmare, and kept the water
out of the boat only for the sake of keeping
warm. If it had not been for this, I think that
we would have let it swamp in a few hours.
We were too uncomfortable to care much about
getting home.

With the dawn came better weather, and
before long the sun was shining in a clear sky.
What a change from a few hours before! All
that remained of the storm were a few fragments
of clouds just hurrying over the horizon. At
the sight of clear weather our hopes rose. We
were sure to be picked up soon. In this we
were not disappointed. A passing fishing ves-
sel noticed us and sent a boat to our aid. As
soon as we arrived on board, we learned that
we were about twenty miles from land, and
that the vessel on which we were was bound
for my home. We were rejoiced to hear this,

but the food placed before us interested us more
for the moment. When we arrived home I
found my parents almost frantic with anxiety
over our long absence from home, but as soon
as they heard the tale of our journey they were
overjoyed to think that we had returned safe
and sound.

It is many long years since I saw the town
of my birth. I have seen many strange lands
and beautiful scenery, but my native town al-
ways has most charm for me. I often sit and
dream of the pranks I engaged in, the experi-
ences I passed through, and the friends I knew,
and a sweet sadness fills my soul. Still youth is
behind, and as I sit in the twilight shadows,
the past softly fades from my mind and mingles
with the living present, filled with its own gol-
den opportunities and joys.

E. C. P., '08.

GOODE'S FIRST GAME

THE candidates for the basket-ball team
were gathered in the Gymnasium talk-
ing over the outlook of the team in
the games with Jordan Institute. Among them
was a small, but stocky fellow, with very black
hair and brown eyes. He was, evidently, a
new scholar at Foster Academy, for that was
the name of the school.

In answer to the captain's question, " What
is your name, young fellow?" he answered,
"Francis Goode, sir," as though he were
afraid.

"Have you ever played basket-ball before,"
asked the captain.

" No, sir, not on any regular team. '

The captain of the team walked away to a
group of iarger boys in the corner, muttering
something ?bout a kid ought to be at home with
his mamma. Frank heard this and vowed that
he would play on the team, or kill himself in
the attempt.

A week passed and a large number of the
candidates had given up hope of making the
team, but Frank was in the Gymnasium every
afternoon at 3 o'clock, to practice with the
other candidates. He received no encour-
agement whatever, but noticed that Hunt, the
captain, watched, him frequently. His hope
of making the first team was nearly gone but
still he kept on playing his hardest.

After practising two weeks he was told that
he would play on the second team, next day,
in a game with the first. He was disappointed
but played his best, as usual, and was en-
couraged when the captain said to him, " Keep
up the good work, kid, and next year you'll
make the first team."

It was now Tuesday and the great game
with Jordan was to be played on Saturday.
Nothing else was talked of for the next few
days, and at last Saturday arrived.

There was a big crowd in the Gymnasium

Latin School Register

and both balconies were filled. One seemed
to be a mass of red and white ribbon, (the
colors of Foster Academy) and the other of
red and blue, the colors of Jordan. A great
shout went up, as the door opened and a dozen
muscular-looking boys came in, dressed in black
Jerseys and pants with red stockings. Six of
them went out on to the floor, and the rest went
over to the bench and watched the practice.

The Jordan team came in, and after a short
practice, the captains met and Jordan won the
toss-up. They chose the goal at the south of
the Gymnasium and then the two teams lined
up.

Jordan made three baskets in the first half
and Foster made but one, but in the first part
of the half Foster tied the score, and put herself
one point in the lead bv a basket from a free
throw. Both teams were now playing as it
their lives depended upon winning the game.
A fellow on the Foster team was hurt but was
quickly replaced and the game went on as
hotly as ever.

Goode sat with the substitutes, on a hard
board bench under the balcony and watched
without taking his eyes off" the game for a
moment.

Finally, after the game had raged all over the
floor for five minutes, and no one had shot a
basket, a fellow was seen to drop on the floor
like a log, and then the referee's whistle blew.
It was Pearson, the Foster left forward. The
captain looked toward the bench and surveyed
it a moment. Then, in a sharp voice, he
called, " Goode," and walked over to meet
him as he pulled off his sweater and ran out
on to the floor. There was but one minute left
and the score was now tied. Grant, of Foster,
got the ball, passed it to Goode, who was
standing under Jordan's basket and shot the
basket with ease. At that minute, the whistle
blew and made Goode the hero of the day.
He was no longer a kid, but was treated like
a king.

R. E. H., '10.

N

O

T

E

On Friday, March 8, a debate was held in
Room 23 on the question: Resolved: that
Oliver Cromwell was ambitious for the Crown
of England. The class voted that the affirm-
ative won on the merits of the debate, and the
negative on the merits of the question.

This is a most welcome report. There have
been several attempts to organize a debating
society in the Latin School, but the one of
1900 was the last. We wish that time per-
mitted such an organization and we- think
that perhaps the number of Public Declamations
might be raised to the old number, seven, and
the extra two be devoted to debating. We
hope that in some future year the masters may
see fit to try this idea.

The Register is unfortunate in losing E. C.
Pickett of Class II. from its staff.

This was heard in the first class: " Oliver
Twist is as interesting to a boy as a girl."

This seems very cold blooded from a class
that chooses a heart for a class-pin.

The country is safe while anv members of
Room 1 3 live. When asked what were the
three primary colors, the prompt response
was: " Red, white, and blue."

There was no appreciable difference in the
size of the school the day after St. Valentine's,
but next year is leap year, so beware, 1908!

LATIN SCHOOL REGISTER

Gaynor O' Gorman
Herman S. Nelke

J. F. A. GlBLIN

J. H. Keyes
John A. Foley

T. G. Goodwin )
H. W. Smith j"

Editor-in-Chief
Business Manager

Editors
Associate Editors

Terms : — Fifty cents per year ; by mail, sixty cents. Single copies, ten cents. Advertising rates on application.
Contributions are solicited trom undergraduates.

All contributions must be plainly, neatly, and correctly written, and on one side only of the paper. Contributions will be accepted
wholly with regard to the needs of the paper and the merits of the manuscript.

Published by the STUDENTS OF THE BOSTON LATIN SCHOOL, Warren Avenue, Boston, Mass.

Entered at the Boston Post Office as second-class mail matter.

Printed by J. Frank Facey, 36 Prospect Street, Cambridge. Telephone 1165-3.

MARCH, 1907

THE declamation of March 15 was one
of the best we have ever heard. The
selections were much better than usual
and the style of delivery was easily the best
displayed this year. The school will expect a
very fine exhibition at Prize Declamation. It
is not, as yet, a foregone conclusion who will
win the prizes, as it has been in some other
years, and this will serve to make the com-
petition keener and more interesting.

It was somewhat of a reflection on the Latin
School that when a declamation in Latin was
offered, there was a very audible titter. The
younger portion of the school, for that portion
is the guilty one, needs to be reminded " not
to advertise ignorance by laughing, " to use an
expression of one of our masters ; if they keep
very still, perhaps no one wiil find out how
little they know. Upper classes also may well
think of this.

The students of the Mechanic Arts High
School have organized a school paper, The
Artisan. The first number is a signal success,
and places the paper with the best class of
school magazines.

We notice that many of our exchanges give
a great deal of their space to poetry. Much
of this poetry is excellent. Lest any one
should think that the Register has a prejudice
against poetry, we now declare that the reason
we have published no poetry is because we have
received none. What is the matter with the
Latin School ? Do not the studies here all
tend to cultivate poetic impulses ? Why, then,
are we confined to prose, while our neighbor,
the English High School, and our sister school,
the Girls' Latin, simply revel in the delights of
lyric verse? Judging from the English marks,
a few of us find it hard to write even good
prose ; let such bovs see if their success with
the Muse of Poetry will be better. If the
school will hand its thoughts, thus " married to
immortal verse" to the Register, the poetic
reputation of the school may be saved.

We learned, a short time ago, that, in
remembrance of the first victory of the American
Revolution, a bloodless one, won by Latin
School boys, it was proposed to let the Latin
School boys coast down School Street for one
hour on a certain day. Every one knows the

Latin School Register //

romantic tale of how the British soldiers de-
stroyed the coast which ran from Beacon Street,
down School Street, then Latin School Street,
to Washington Street. A committee of the
First Class waited on General Haldiman (not
General Gage) and protested. It was in
honor of this episode that the picturesque
holiday was proposed. The idea was never
carried into practice, but it was certainly a
picturesque one. Imagine the golden wheels
of business blocked, while we gayly slide down
Beacon Street and across the two main thorough-
fares of this great city. We might have races
on double runners. Snow-balls would be sure
to be flying. The delightful prospects of such
a holiday are beyond description. Perhaps
some day the school wil) be more iortunate and
the holiday will actually be declared. Then
will the populace assemble and envy us.

It is too bad that March 17 was Sunday,
this year. We might have heard, on coming
into school, that time-honored and welcome
phrase : " deponite libros.

Charles W. English, B. L. S., '97, recently
visited the school. He is engaged in a very
interesting work for poor and unfortunate boys,
"The Conway Boys' Farms." Conway is
located among the beautiful Berkshires, and the
farms, consisting of about two hundred acres,
are admirably adapted for the work.

The plans are unique, and although they are
of comparatively recent origin, many prominent
business men and philanthropists have become
deeply interested in them. The normal home,
and especially the farm home, is recognized as
the best place in which to develop the character
of a boy, and the necessity for the personal
touch on the individual boy is considered essen-
tial to best results. In brief, the plan is intended

to associate young people of the cities who are
interested in work for boys, and who are long-
ing for independent country homes ; and to
enable them by means of reciprocity to become
established in their chosen branch of rural life,
and at the same time to care for one or two or
more boys. These boys are not of the deficient
or delinquent class, but are simply the unfor-
tunate but worthy poor. They are given the
best practical education and training possible.

In connection with the permanent features of
the work there has been for six years a summer
camp. It is expected that about two hundred
and fifty boys will each have two weeks in
camp during the coming summer. The ex-
penses of the camp have to be met largely by
public philanthropy. Clothing for boys is
always in demand and very acceptable.

Mr. English would be pleased to correspond
with any of his B. L. S. friends, or with others
who are interested in work for boys. Address
him at Conwav, Mass.

C. W. E., '97.

Curtis Lublin, 1900, Columbia University,
A.B. 1904, A.M. 1905, is continuing his
work in English at Columbia. He is one of
editors of the Graduate English Record, a
quarterly of very high character. In the last
number Mr. Lublin has a long and very able
article on Sentimentalism in Shakespeare. Lublin
did fine work in English when he was here,
and was editor of The Register.

Lawrence Brigand, an old Latin School boy,
has been appointed superintendent of the new
postal station in the North End.

A. Ehrenfried, M. D., Latin School, '98,
is Chairman of the Membership Committee of
the Old South Historical Society.

Sheehan, '06, has been elected captain of the
Harvard basket-ball team.

12 Latin School Register

George Washington, the Statesman

By LOUIS N. STANTON, '08

MILITARY command was but one part
of Washington's career. Almost all
the duties of government rested on
him under the inefficient administration of the
old Congress. A merely military education
would have furnished no adequate preparation
for the duties which he performed.

It was a very fortunate circumstance that
from the year 1759 to l^e Revolution, he passed
fifteen years as a member of the House of
Burgesses in Virginia, where he acquired a
valuable knowledge of civil affairs, and of
politics. While his public duties, civil and
military, prepared him in this way for the
position he filled in war and in peace, the
fifteen years that he passed in the personal man-
agement of his own estate furnished an ample
scope for the development of the economical
side of his character, and gave a thoroughness
to Washington's administrative habits which
cannot be equaled elsewhere.

After the war, the country was plunged into
a state bordering on anarchy. Accordingly,
the body now known as the Federal Convention
assembled in Philadelphia on May 2, 1787 ;
Washington was unanimously elected its Pres-
ident. Jared Sparks, in his "Life of Wash-
ington," says, referring both to the Convention,
and to Washington's views regarding its im-
portance : " He read the history, and examined
the principles of every ancient and modern con-
federacy that he could discover. Although he
took no active part in the Convention's debates,
he used his influence in every possible way
toward the direction of an efficient central gov-
ernment. "

After the affairs of the convention were
settled, according to its provisions, a president
and a vice-president were to be elected. In

the crisis which overhung the lately-freed
colonies, Washington was probably the one
man for the situation. His presence gave a
dignity and stability to the government which
only years of successful administration could
otherwise have secured.

Washington's policy was to keep out of
all foreign complications. His admirable far-
sightedness showed him the disastrous results
that the country would suffer should she become
embroiled in any further conflict in her
weakened condition, resulting from her struggle
for independence. He displayed wonderful
diplomacy in securing from Spain the privilege
of navigating the Mississippi down to its mouth,
and in gaining several advantageous commercial
rights from England.

In the organization of the new government
Washington desired to accomplish the well-nigh
impossible task of uniting all conflicting polit-
ical interests and ideas. He could easily
foretell the harmful effects that any political strife
would have upon the newly-born nation.
Therefore, his dominate purpose was to enlist
the democratic notions of Jefferson as well as
the federal sympathies of Hamilton, and their
followers, into a hearty and vigorous support of
the government during the important period of
its organization.

To this end Hamilton and Jefferson were
both called into the cabinet. Washington
succeeded in keeping them from unseemly
hostilities, but their fundamental ideas were so
opposed to each other that complete political
harmony was impossible.

It was now agreed that the incessant wran-
gling of these two men greatly saddened the
President's last years, and his private letters
show that he felt it keenly, that the people,

Latin School Register 13

whom he had liberated, should so far forget the
benefits, that they had derived through his
efforts, as to criticise openly his actions. For
Washington was never actuated by any other
purpose than that of furthering his country's in-
terests. Had he not possessed this admirable
trait he could easily have founded a Washing-
tonian dynasty, and ruled America as a king,
for the soldiers, at the end of the war, expressed
their willingness, and even signified a desire
that he should do this, but Washington was a
man of nobler mould, and cast away ambition
without a regret.

Another troublesome matter, in regard to
which the parties were sharply separated, was
caused by the attitude of France towards this
country during the French Revolution, when
Citizen Genet, theJFrench Minister, ventured to
presume upon the former relations of the two
governments as a justification for unwarrantable
actions. By Washington's display of states,
manship renewed hostilities with Great Britain

were, for a time at least, avoided. Even after
his retirement, Washington, in several instances,
aided his successor, John Adams, through his
sage advice.

He was one of the earliest to detect the
fundamental defects of the government during
the war. When the defects were universally
realized all the people, as well as the repre-
sentatives of the several states, instinctively
turm.'d to Washington for guidance. Their
reliance was not misplaced, for the Constitution
as it now stands, could hardly have been de-
veloped but foi the keen, far-sighted wisdom
and unerring judgment of George Washington.
Even after this hasty review is it not clear,
that Washington, the soldier of genius, was also
a consummate statesman ? Whatever political
ability others have shown since in guiding
our nation on the troubled sea of representative
government, he it was to whose wise states-
manship we owe the possibilities of that success
that has come to so glorious a realization.

BASKET

BALL

THE last Register published no news of
basket-ball, because, at the time of the
issue no definite statement could be
had concerning the standing of the teams.
Now that the confused tangle has been definitely
seettled, the Register hopes to atone for last
month's omission by a full account.

February 1 2 we played the English High
School. Both teams played a remarkable and
well-matched game, but the Latin School was
superior in shooting. There was a very large
crowd gathered to witness the game and the
enthusiasm ran a little beyond the bounds of good
order. These two decisive defeats of our
neighbor have added considerably to the gayety
of nations, especially after last Thanksgiving.
The score was 34—24.

February 14 the Latin School lost to Rox-
bury High. The team ceemed to be in very
poor form, the cause of which no one seemed
to know. Perhaps the fact that they were
playing in a " coed " school on St. Valentine's
day frightened them. At any rate, after several
fluctuations, Roxbury obtained a lead of four
points and played on the defensive the remainder
of the half. It was a close game and a hard
one to lose. The score was 20-16.

February 19 the team made up for its tem-
porary eclipse by roundly defeating the West
Roxbuary High School. The victory was
most welcome, as it restored the school's lost
confidence in the team.

February 21 was the climax of the season.
After a day of most interesting exercises, an

14 Latin School Register

equally interesting basket-ball game attracted
the largest crowd we have ever seen in the drill
hall. South Boston High and the Latin
School, not to mention outsiders, were there
en masse.

The game was to decide the championship,
and the excitement was really intense. Even
some of the most stolid and reserved members
of the school felt their hearts beating rather

faster than usual. And the girls we wish,

put of curiosity, that some one would explain
to us why the average school-girl shrieks and
nearly goes into hysterics every time the ball
comes into plain sight. Let the school be duly
(and secretly) grateful that we have to observe
such phenomena only occasionally and are
spared the agony of a "coed " school.

The game itself was wonderful from every
point of view. The incredible rapidity of the
players' movements is a thing beyond the com^
prehension of the lay mind. It seemed
marvellous that the boys, who must have been
nervous to the last degree, could control their
movements with precision necessary to shoot
baskets. It was a game to be long remembered
in the history of the sport in Boston schools.
The Latin School boys conducted themselves
with perfect order, but the South Boston boys
let their excitement and enthusiasm rather run
away with them, especially when it came to
adverse fouls.

To describe the play in detail would be
monotonous. South Boston won by one point,
io— 1 8. The lead changed hands several times,
but the opposition held it at the critical moment.
An analysis of the playing shows that the Latin
School was decidedly the more nervous of the
two, and this was the cause of our defeat.
Chance upon chance to win by fouls was
offered, and in the last few minutes of play
superb pass-work by the Latin School kept the
ball literally raining on the opponent's basket,
yet the players were too nervous to " put it in."
South Boston played the finest defensive game

we have ever seen (it being decidedly of a
rougher order than ours) and they showed an
ability to shoot whenever the chance was offered,
which was remarkable, considering that they
were unfamiliar with the baskets.

The Latin School was naturally disappointed,
but took defeat much more gracefully than did
South Boston their victory.

A great deal of protesting of the eligibility of
certain players was done by both schools. We
will not go into the uninteresting details of the
contest, but will merely state that as a final
result the championship was awarded to the
Latin School. This is, we think, the best year
that basket-ball has ever had in the Latin
School and the school has certainly shown its
interest and delight in the success of the team.
The second team, also, deserves the congratu-
lations of the school, though its career has been
somewhat eclipsed by that of the first.

The teams have been composed of:

I. Sullivan, Churchward, (Capt.) Finkel,
Allison, and Fish.

II. Hill (Capt.), Rouillard, Crane, Shaw,
Sanderson.

It being impossible to persuade some incred-
ulous mortals that the athletic supremacy of the
First Class belonged with the mental supremacy,
the two divisions determined to decide the
question by a basket-ball game. A very
amusing and verbose challenge was written, and
excitement ran high. For two weeks before
the solemn occasion, the drill hall resounded
every night with the noise of the rival divisions,
practising. It was the general impression of
the school that error would prevail, and even
the members of Room 18 themselves despond-
ently thought that their superior mentality was
going to avail them nothing. Truth asserted
herself, however, and Room 17 went down in
inglorious defeat. The long practice before
hand had worn off the novelty and the two
rooms played a very fast game. Owing to the

Latin School Register J5

experience of the players, the game was not so
amusing as most amateur attempts are, but the
struggles of the two gigantic centers, O'Brien
and O'Hare, were funny in the last degree.
The later playing of the second teams supplied
any lack of amusement in that of the first, and
the spectators were almost convulsed with
laughter. Room 17 won the second team
contest.

The score :

Room 18. Room 17/4

Daly (Capt.), r. f. . L f., Lane, Baldwin.

Sanderson, 1. f. . r. f., Bloom

O'Hare, c. ... c, O'Brien

Wyman, r. b. . . r. b., Duffy, (Capt.)

Evans, O'Gorman, l.b. 1. b., Baldwin, Lane.

Baskets : Daly 7, Sanderson 5, O'Hare 4,
Duffy. Goals from fouls : Daly 3, Duffy 3.

Referee : Flynn ; Timer : Hill ; Time :
Two 20 minute halves. Score, 35-5.

T

R

A

K

THE Track-Team this year has been a
credit to the school. All the meets
have been characterized by good man-
agement, a thing which cannot be said of
similar events in former years. Besides the
good management and very pleasant conduct of
the team, its success has been signal. Had it
not been for an unfortunate injury to Captain
Sweester's knee, the Latin School would easily
have led the Boston Schools in track athletics.
Even with such a serious loss, the team was a
close second, the English High School winning
first place.

In the dual meet with High School, Feb-
ruary 27, we were decidedly defeated by a
score of 5 1-2 1. The absence ofSweester in
the short runs and high jump, and Ryder in
the short-put caused our defeat. High School's
victory was somewhat of a disappointment to
our hopes, but it was inevitable. Burns sprang
a pleasant surprise on every one by winning the
hurdles, a race which High School confidently
expected to win. The form in which Burns
won the 300 reminded one of the fabled races
of the ancients during their funeral games, and
Burns on this occasion certainly won the right
to Achilles' favorite epithet, " swift of foot. "

Saturday, March 9, the Boston Inter-
scholastic Athletic Association held their third
annual indoor meet. The occasion was very

pleasant, and the event ran off smoothly. For
a while it looked as though the Latin School
team was going to w in in spite of their crippled
condition, but High School finally drew ahead.
Burns' running, as usual, was excellent. Many
of the spectators commented on the good work
of Stanton in the mile and the thousand. The
form of the high-jumpers was outre in the
extreme. Their contortions in going over the
bar were at once indescribable and amusing,
but when the jumper landed on the other side
the laughter of the onlookers was quickly
changed to fear of injury to the contestant, the
boys landing on almost any part of their
persons, including their heads, and excepting
their feet. The events were, as a rule, hotly
contested, but no very remarkable tunning
appeared.

An event, rejoicing in the title, as an-
nounced by the program, of the 1,000 mile
run, was won by Sawyer of High School in 2
minutes and 57 seconds.

The woncer of the feat overcomes our
dignity and we cannot but exclaim that to run
1,000 miles in less than three minutes is
"going some." Stanton won third place in
this remarkable event, and we assure him that
the Latin School is proud of having a man who
has thus put to flight the wildest tales of speed
that imagination ever conceived.

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