TRIENNIAL RECORD
CLASS ^NINETY SEVEN
Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2010 with funding from
Princeton Theological Seminary Library
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TRIENNIAL RECORD
OF THE
CLASS OF 1897
Princeton University
Edited by the Secretary
JOHN HENRY KEENER
NUMBER TWO 1 900
THE GRAFTON PRESS
NEW YORK
TO THE CLASS.
The following pages speak for themselves and need no formal in-
troduction. Your contributions have been so generous, and of such an
excellent quality that vi'hatever deficiencies are to be found must be
traceable either to the limitations of the Secretary, or to his proverbial
shortcomings. Notwithstanding these apparently necessary deficiencies
the Secretary still cherishes the fond hope that this book may serve
to keep bright the memory of former scenes and actions, and cement
yet more strongly that bond of good fellowship which has been such
a glorious heritage to us, and which we have perpetuated with such
signal ardor and enthusiasm. Above all, may it increase our loyalty
and devotion to the dear old place, quickening us to livelier interest
in her affairs and spurring us on to heroic deeds of self-sacrifice for
her advancement, so that in her coming greater glory you and I may
J share, not as admiring spectators but as those who have borne the
'j heat and burden of the day.
^ The Secretary takes this method of acknowledging his great in-
debtedness to Colwell for the valuable assistance rendered in the
publication of this book. Indeed, without his generous aid the book
could not have become a reality. His devotion and unselfish and
painstaking labors deserve the thanks of every member, as they do
the eternal gratitude of the Secretary.
But the Secretary also desires to express his great obligation to
^ many others who have so ably assisted him. Some of these at great
personal sacrifice aided the good work. While the satisfaction of
having done a commendable thing is a partial reward for their services
yet the proper compensation would be the grateful appreciation by
the class as a whole. Of this, the Secretary, without mistaking the
__ temper of the organization, can assure them. Nothing short of a
f^ monument should be their portion.
<^ J. H. K.
U Lawrenceville, N. J., May 15, 1901.
•y
k'^A
468755
^ ^
^ O
CLASS ORGANIZATION.
PRESIDENT.
Robert Garrett ii South Street, Baltimore, Md.
VICE-PRESIDENT.
W. W. Wilson 714 Liberty Street, Clarion, Pa.
SECRETARY.
J. H. Keener 68 N. 13th Street, Harrisburg, Pa.
EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE.
Robert Garrett W. W. Wilson J. H. Keener.
MEMORIAL COMMITTEE.
Arthur M. Kennedy P. O. Box 555, N. Y. C.
Edward W. Axson Mannie, Wayne Co., Tenn.
Richard B. Kent "The Garretson," Sioux City, la.
Harry W. Leigh Suffern, N. Y.
Robert Moore Edgevv^ood Park, Pa.
B. R. Miller 1123 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa.
THE ARDEN COP.
"Now, come, Old Johnny Degnan,
Oh, sing a song to me;
And tell me what you're thinking
Beneath that old elm tree."
"Oh, I've a helmet an' I've a shield,
An' a cane, an' a white goatee.
But I've never a voice ter sing a song,
A pretty song," quoth he.
"Oh, hang your pretty song," said I,
"And hang your voice likewise,
For you've a heart there under your coat,
And Irish blue in your eyes."
"Now, come, Old Johnny Degnan,
Oh, sing a song to me ;
And tell me what you're thinking,
Beneath that old elm tree."
"Oh, yes, I'm Irish born an' bred,
I'm Irish ter th' bone,
An' I'll sing a little song," quoth he,
"If ye'll leave me alone.
"Oh, there's byes and byes, an' byes, an' byes.
There's byes that comes an' goes,
But I'm thinkin' of a pretty lot,
Th' lot I mean, ye knows.
"Oh, yes, of course, ye mind th' nine,
An' also th' eleven,
Ye knows right well th' class I mean,
Fer sure, it's Ninety-seven.
"They come a rushin' inter town
As if they owned th' place,
An' ter be true wid ye, me lad,
'Twas very near th' case.
"An' when as Sophomores they was here,
Oh, it was very plain,
I'd have a contract on me hands,
Fer they was raisin' Cain.
"As upper classmen they returned
Wid trunks full o' new clo'es;
An' some o' them was promised men.
An' some o' them was beaus.
"As Seniors gowned they walked about
Wid heads held very high;
An' when they left th' singin' steps
They fetched a mighty sigh.
"Oh, when I seen them march away,
A likely line o' lads
A lump came up widin me throat,
Fer they was now Old Grads.
"An' every one slides back agin
As often as he can.
It does me good to look at them,
Fer every one's a man.
"An' when they all was out three years
They come a-pilin' back;
The best reunion ever had
'Neath orange and th' black.
"Oh, some o' them is business men,
A gettin' gold so fast,
Th' Astors and th' Vanderbilts
They have already passed.
"An' some o' them is lawyer folks
A-writin' out a brief,
A comfort ter an honest man,
A terror ter a thief.
"Th' engineers they are at work
In this and other lands,
A-thinkin' schemes an' doin' them
Wid other people's hands.
"The doctors are so very slick
Wid knives an' drugs an' sich
That any one wid half an eye
Could see them gettin' rich.
"An' some o' them is teachers too.
Professors o' th' best,
A-wishin' they was presidents,
So they could take a rest.
"The ministers they've gone abroad
A-makin' people good,
A-preachin' till their throats is sore
An' thankful fer their food.
"No matter what they try ter do,
I know they'll do it fine;
The credit'll be give ter them,
Th' honor'll be mine.
"Oh, sometimes one comes strollin' by,
A neat girl at his side ;
A-walkin' slow, an' mighty close, —
Ye'd know she was his bride.
"An' sometimes one'll step along
A proud an' happy Pop,
An' bring his little child ter shake
Th' hand o' this old Cop.
"An' most o' ye'll own a home.
An' some there'll be wid none;
But every mother's son o' ye
Is sure that he's got one.
"An' that's right here, as ye know well.
Right here in Nassau Hall ;
An' if ye want an open door.
Why all ye'll do is call.
"It's time fer me ter ring th' bell,
Me throat is very dry,
An' if ye have th' price wid ye,
I'll bid ye now good bye."
"Johnn, Johnny Degnan,
Johnny, Johnny Degnan,
Do you want me?
No-o, sir-ee,
Not this afternoon-ter-noon-ter-noon-ter-noon."
R. O. KiRKWOOD.
THOMAS DUDLEY RIGGS, Jr.
Our Class Boy
LETTERS FROM THE CLASS.
HENRY BROWN ABBOTT.
Dear Pop: — Pardon my not answering your recent communication.
There was really nothing more to say than was contained in my
reply to your first set of questions. But since you insist on my aping
our honored professor of economics by repeating the plain facts many
times — know then, that I am in the stove business with my father,
which, fortunately for me, insures a steady job. It was not ever thus.
The summer after graduation I began exploring the mysteries of
Blackstone. They were too mysterious. The next venture was in the
line of journalism. Here, also, the constant necessity for the investi-
gation of the occult was too wearing upon the sensibilities of a man
who was not gifted with an abnormal inquisitiveness about the affairs
of his fellow citizens. Three months of the "New Journalism" suf-
ficed. I next sought for a less active but more lucrative employment
and found it in a National Bank. The constant presence of so much
gold, with its suggestion of plutocracy was irritating to a person of
my democratic tendencies. In a year and a half I had learned to add
figures and become "warm" enough for the stove business.
I am not married. Do not intend to be. Have troubles .enough of
my own. For the same reason I take no part in politics. With best
wishes for all of the Class, I remain,
Most sincerely yours,
Henry B. Abbott.
Zanesville, O., March 28, 1901.
ALEXANDER JOHN ATCHESON ALEXANDER.
Dear Fellows: — Pop requested for you an account of my doings
since we left Old Nassau. This will not take long, as the life of a
medical student is not very exciting or interesting to others, and
sometimes not to himself. I have done nothing at all to distinguish
myself — not even got married or engaged, as many of you have. Up
to this year Charley Roys and I have roomed together and pursued
the even tenor (sometimes "bass") of our ways, pursuing at the same
time bones, 'itises, grains and so on. We haven't quite caught them
yet. But now I am a widow since Charley is acting as traveling
secretary for the Student Volunteer Movement. Of course I have had
several vacations. My first summer vacation ('97) was spent at home.
having a good time. In this I was assisted by George Howe, Dan.
Nevin and Bob Kirkwood, who paid me the honor of visits. In '98
I went to Europe for four months with a party, one of whom was
Dan. We did up Great Britain, Norway, Belgium, Holland, Germany,
Austria, Switzerland and France. We didn't bother Spain at that time !
In '99 I also did some traveling, but it was mainly confined to my
own State. Went with the "Students' Summer Campaign for Mis-
sions," visiting about fifteen churches and making about twenty odd
"addresses" (?). The same summer I visited the Students' Summer
Conference at Ashville, N. C, and later went to Chicago. Last spring
I took a week off and went to Bermuda with some of my family. It
is useless to try to describe the delights of that trip. I studied for
some weeks after college closed and then went to Northfield. After
spending six wxeks quietly at home and one week in Chicago I came
on to usher at "Ma" Allison's wedding, where, of course, I saw "Hec"
Cowan and Charley Dunlap. After seeing "Ma" successfully made
happy and enjoying myself greatly in the process, I "substituted" at
Presbyterian Hospital for two weeks, and had lots of profitable and
pleasant experience. That brought me to the opening of College. The
Fall term was broken by a trip home at election time to "exercise the
sacred right of franchise." Sad to say my vote did little good, but I
had a mighty good time in initiating Charley Roys (who dropped in
for a few days) into the mysteries of "coon-hunting."
Pop has asked for the titles of any articles published. If he doesn't
throw this out it will be the first word of mine ever printed. As for
my permanent address — the same as of old — Spring Station, Kentucky.
I hope P. & S. won't be my address after next May. And so endeth
"the short and simple annals" of
Alex. J. A. Alexander.
135 West Sixty-Fourth Street, N. Y. City, Jan. 26, 1901.
EDWIN SHERLOCK ALEXANDER.
My Dear Pop: — My greatest regret since leaving Princeton is, that
I did not stay to graduate with the glorious class of '97. It is an
honor to have been a member of that class ; for, I have noticed in my
brief experience with a very kind world, that '97 is well-known through
the deeds and good fellowship of its members.
I am still enjoying single blessedness, and have taken no prominent
part in politics. I enjoy the privileges of a non-resident member of
the Princeton Club of New York. Was sorry to miss the reunion,
but was seriously ill at the time, and, of course, could not attend.
My career has been without incidents worthy of note ; so I cannot
add entertaining experiences to the volume, which I now await with
much pleasure.
With best wishes to my friends of '97, believe me,
Very sincerely yours,
Edwin S. Alexander.
Newport News, Va., March 11, 1901.
12
CALVIN TOMKINS ALLISON.
My Dear Classmates: — Letters have been pouring in upon me for
the past three months, from our faithful secretary, Pop, some re-
questing, some begging, and some ordering me to write my class
letter, under the penalty of forever disgracing the class, and of losing
the respect of our beloved and honored secretary. To all of these
appeals I have turned a deaf ear, partially from lack of time, partially
because my life since graduating has been an uneventful one, as is
the case with most engineers during the first few years of their career
in the wide, cold world.
But the last straw was added last night, when I received a C. O. D.
telegram from Pop, reading as follov.^s : "I must have your letter ;
send promptly, situation desperate, stir yourself." And so I am going
to stir myself and place before you the few things that have hap-
pened in my uneventful life.
After graduation I joined the Corps of Engineers on the New York
Central and Hudson River Railroad, and remained with them three
years, during which time I counted ties between New York and Buf-
falo a number of times. I did not go to war, as some of you have
done, adding glory to both our class and nation, nor have I discov-
ered any buried cities, but I have been plodding along, slowly climb-
ing the lower steps of the great ladder.
I was married to Miss Snedeker, of Haverstrav/, N. Y., on the 12th
of September, 1900, and have since settled in Stony Point, N. Y.,
where we shall be glad to entertain any of the class who happen in
this section of the country. After my marriage I entered the firm of
Rodermond & Allison, general contractors, and have since been build-
ing bridges for the New York Central Railroad.
I have seen very few of the fellows since graduation, having been
tied down to business a great deal, and my work carrying me into the
country away from the larger cities and towns.
But I enjoyed the very pleasant days at our Triennial Reunion,
and am looking forward with a great deal of pleasure to our next re-
union beneath the sounding rafters and the shady elms of Old Prince-
ton. Ever your friend,
Calvin T. Allison.
Stony Point, N. Y., May 15, 1901.
OWEN RANDOLPH ALTMAN.
My Dear Pop: — I beg your pardon a thousand times for being so
negligent. I can simply say this is the busiest world I have ever seen,
and I shall only receive my just punishment if you send me a bill to
cover expenses for the many pounds of paper, the dozens of postals
and the hundreds of stamps, not including the trouble to the secre-
tary. I trust my silence has not caused any words for which you will
be sorry. Almost every day I have met some old college chum, and
the first greeting was, "Have you written Pop? No? Well, for heaven's
sake, write him at once," — and straight to my room I would go; yet the
13
letter was never written. I met Long John Reilly yesterday. His
words were: "This is the last chance. Next will come telegrams and
C. O. D. letters." So I attempt to tell the reasons why I fear I have
caused our most worthy secretary many days of worry. Pop, I hope
your brain has not atrophied from the silence of a few lazy mortals
like myself. My intentions have been good, but, like all easy-going
ducks, I have neglected duty, and now I am sorry. Can you forgive
and forget? I shall promise to do my duty in the future, and if you
can stand it I am willing to relate some of my past four years. But
heaven forbid that I should tell all, because I occasionally meet Lady
Jayne and Baldy Wilson traveling in automobiles, and the story I
would not dare tell.
If you ask the story of my life, it is a brief one — years spent in the
dusty lecture rooms of dear old Jefferson Medical College. Of course
I have been studious, as that is my reputation, and if good fortune
still smiles upon me, I shall in three days have an M. D. attached to
my name. Say, Pop, how Vv'ill this sound? Owen Randolph Kenley
Justine Jacobus Fat Altman, B. S., M. D? Fat — you should see me
now. New weights are necessary when I get on the scales, and if you
were to see me from the side you would think I was Rev. Crowdis.
I am all ready for business. My future address will be Masontown,
Pa. OfHce opposite the square. I want all to know it is on the map,
and the most delightful country in the world — pure country air and
right among the tall timber. Once a farmer, always a farmer, so that
explains why I am going back to the woods. This will be my tempo-
rary home, but some day I shall join the boys again and return to
dear old Princeton, where I spent the happiest days of my life.
It is needless for me to try to answer the questions I find in front
of me. I am able to write my name in full, but when you ask such
questions as "Are you married?" God forbid. I am already con-
sidered an old bachelor, and my prospects for a future partner are in-
deed discouraging. Name of business? I never have had any, haven't
done anything for ten years but read books, and yet all I have to show
for it is two sheepskins.
Now, I go out into the wide, wide world to get some experience.
I am looking forward to the number of months I shall wait for
patients to call. I have prepared myself with an extra lot of pants,
and as they wear through, I shall be in position to change. Now,
Pop, I have told it all. I have done nothing to be ashamed of, and
I can boast of nothing for which I am proud. I exist and you can
always find me the good-natured, fat Dutchman I am known to be.
After this acknowledgment and senseless missive I beg to wish you
a most happy future. I hope that our next meeting will not be one
of hatred, for I realize your anger must have been aroused when I did
not respond to the call, but I have made promises and soon I will be
in the land of birds, and I can write you often.
Ever your friend,
O. R. Altman.
Philadelphia, Pa., May lo, 1901.
14
ALFRED OSCAR ANDERSSON.
Dear Po/';— Unfortunately, I have not been closely enough in touch
with college men in the past few years to know exactly what sort of
a letter you want. Presumably, however, you desire that each man
should tell about himself, and that's what I'll do with due apologies
and feeling of my own unimportance. I have been doing newspaper
work steadily since I left Princeton, and at present am in Kansas City,
in the employ of the Scripps-McRae Press Association Company, as
manager or agent, for the territory which appertains by geographical
conditions to this bureau.
The association is in the business of gathering and disseminating
news by telegraph. About eighteen months ago I left the Kansas
City World, a paper then owned by the Scripps-McRae league, on
which I had served in various capacities, to go to the Chicago office
of the Press Association. For about a year, or until last August, I
was in and around Chicago, taking in three of the national political
conventions and being sent about the middle west as news events justi-
fied. Incidentally I brought a courtship in Chicago to a very success-
ful and very happy conclusion, and took my wedding trip with an
order in my pocket appointing me manager of the bureau at St. Louis.
Until February i, I lived in that city, which is favored by nature, and
apparently struggling unsuccessfully with civic problems of street
cleaning and paving and general problems of municipal administration.
A little over a month ago I was sent here on short notice. Kansas
City is my parental home, and the change was very welcome. The
work here is unremitting and important. I enjoy it. News from the
adjacent territory is collected here, edited, and sent east, and news from
the rest of the world comes, in a ceaseless stream, and is distributed
to clients of the association who are not on a leased wire.
I have met college men, in numbers, but twice in the past year.
Last Washington's birthday I was at the dinner of the Princeton
Club of the southwest, and about a year ago was at the dinner of the
Chicago Princeton Club. Both occasions will linger long in my memory
as affairs of the pleasantest kind.
Townley, '97, is expected to become the sheet-iron magnate of this
section of the country, and Allen, '98, is hustling in the halls of the
Live Stock Exchange. Ned Wetzel, '98, by the way, gathered about
him, in and around Chicago, several times during my stay there, ?.
group of Princeton men, and we had several informal reunions. Wetz.
is as much a college boy as ever, so you can easily judge how well we
enjoyed his society.
In conclusion, dear Pop, allow me to compliment you by saying that
while I have run across a good many noticeable things in the past
few years, none impressed me quite as much as did your pleasant
persistency in getting me to write this. It was a pleasure to me to do
so, but I feel with regret that you will have to admit now that it was
hardly worth your while. With kindest regards.
Your friend,
Kansas City, Mo., March 11, 1901. Alfred O. Andersson.
WALTER HASKELL ANDRUS.
IVell, Boys, My history written in its most attractive form, even
allowing illustrations by Sam Palmer, would yet cause no such excite-
ment as Fred Jessup's "Annual Football Regatta" announcement, or
Bob Wilkins' attempt thro' "The Daily" to rush "a physioc of the Gar-
rick Theatre" upon us. Deserted, too, in a time of dire need by one
always willing to lend me his counsel, sad must be the result.
But, speaking of "Pop," you will all agree, I think, that his letters
to us are a most fitting memorial to his years of effort in literary lines.
To point the moral I must add that our secretary once told me his
practice for some years had been to correspond with a girl or two —
a very non-committal statement — in order to cultivate an easy style —
and behold the result.
As I appreciated letter writing was one of my weak points, and im-
agined sex in no wise altered the educational benefits, upon the receipt
of our secretary's last effort, the single line P. D. Q. (Plane, Dulce,
Quiesce), I said to myself, if such restful, sweet, and exalted thoughts
be the fruits of literary correspondence, go thou, young man, and do
likewise ! So here goes :
My position as Athletic Treasurer in Princeton for the period of two
and a half years after the never-to-be-forgotten spring of '97, brought
me into such close touch, by letter at any event, with many of you
that upon that part of my life you need little information. That,
however, was a time of much revelation to me, regarding the family
and friends of many of the boys. It was then for the first time that I
learned of the many "best girls who would be present at the game,"
of others of our number, unfortunate indeed, whose lives were sad-
dened by invalid mothers, for whose especial benefit the "front row,
middle section of the Princeton Stand" had been especially erected.
However much my store of sympathy may have been drawn upon in
the fall of '97 for the above unlucky members of our loyal band, I
found when the baseball season came on, but half the tale had been
told. I verily believe "Jerry" would have lost count, for an instant,
of the number of fouls made during the season, had he realized how
many of our number had families whose nearsightedness prevented
them from witnessing any of the game unless "first row, outside the
net" fell to their lot.
Thus passed the first year, with often a feeling of sadness by reason
of the association with scenes and places ever reminding me of those
who had made them dear, and who now were scattered o'er the wide,
wide world. Then, too, depressing events, not recorded on any
trophies in the Princeton Club House, made me often wish that year
for a stirring revival, with a few omnipresent "churches" thrown in.
But to rush along over the next year and a half, filled with frequent
'97 reunions, made possible by our increasing faculty representation —
well, all I can say, is you ought to have been in Princeton. "Palms of
Victory" grew on every corner. Yet, with Gus Hopper, I found it
too large a task to satisfactorily run the college longer. But "what
16
next?" That was the question. The "invalid families" of the class
acted as my guiding star since Father Spencer, I felt sure, would not
last long were he alone to stem the tide of these increasing epidemics,
which took place each November and June. I resolved to do my
worst and landed in "Penn."
Since January ist, 1900, mine has been — prepare to faint — the "poler
life." Perhaps, stranger still, may be the added statement that I both
enjoy and thrive under this, I am forced to grant, most remarkable
change. To my knowledge, I alone represent '97 here, a large re-
sponsibility, but hope to do her justice by finishing within the time limit,
beyond which I make no statements.
I was going to tell how much I enjoyed the meeting with you all
again at that "bang-up" time "Pop" gave us last June, but I believe
the secretary announced The Record was to be complete in one volume,
so shall stop before I get started, and close with the heartfelt wish that
you may all be blessed and prospered, "an honor to your country and
to all your native land."
Yours, till we meet next year at "The Laager Fontein,"
Andy.
Germantown, Pa., 6339 Greene Street.
CHARLES HORTON ANGLEMAN.
Dear Keener: — After leaving Princeton I entered a law office and
attended lectures at the University Law School, New York City.
From this institution I was graduated with the class of '95. I was ad-
mitted to the New Jersey Bar in June, '96, and have since been prac-
ticing law in Newark, N. J., I was married June 11, 1899, and am the
proud father of a son, whose Princeton experience I hope M'ill be
longer than mine.
With best wishes for all members of the class, I am.
Yours very truly,
Chas. H. Angleman.
Newark, N. J., May 13, 1901.
PERCY HAGUE ARMITAGE.
For some time the secretary had lost all track of Armitage, but
in the general canvas he was located. The only information elicited,
however, was to the effect that he is engaged in the manufacturing
business with J. H. Armitage's Sons, Newark, N. J.
EDWARD WILLIAM AXSON.
My Dear Pop: — You can't expect anything very highly edifying or
exciting from a fellow situated as I am, beyond the farthest outpost
of civilization. But it is beyond my power to resist the touching appeal
which I received day before yesterday from our long-suffering secre-
tary, so I gladly contribute my mite to the good cause; and may the
Triennial Record be as great a success as its predecessor.
17
My life story, on the whole, is an uneventful one, and is soon tolci
A few days after that final breaking up of '97 — the one on Manhattan
Field when "Jerry" caught that last fly that did the business for Yale,
and we all formed in line and marched round the field, singing paeans
of victory, and touching with reverent toe the hole which Lady Jayne's
foot had made in the pitcher's box — a few days after that I was lucky
enough to strike one of those private tutoring bonanzas, and spent
the summer at Lake George, instilling what little Latin and Greek 1
hadn't already forgotten into the head of a youth whose face was
turned towards Princeton, and after the daily tasks were over having
a good time generally. It was then that my latent baseball ability at
last found recognition — it had been somewhat frowned upon (to
put it mildly) when I tried for our class team in Freshman year. Any-
way, we had the champion hotel team of the lakp that year. My as-
pirations for aquatic glory were not quite so successful. Dr. Bradley,
a '93 man, and I entered in the doubles in the Lake Regatta, and as
luck would have it, we each broke an oar before we had covered a
third of the course, and came in as tail-enders, among the "also
rans." However we weren't really as heartbroken as some thought,
for rowing was not the strong point of either of us, and we got all
the credit among our fellow boarders for what might have been.
The next fall I returned to Princeton and spent the year taking a
P. G. course in Chemistry, and wandering about with the few other
'97 waifs, like disembodied ghosts. We felt very keenly that in truth
we were "has beens," men without a country, and our only consolation
was criticising things in general, and contrasting them with the way
they had been "when we were in college." Nevertheless it was good
to be back, for just to be around the old place is a pleasure, and then
very often some '97 pilgrim would return for a few days, because h
couldn't help it, and it was good to see him. The year finally came to
a close, and most of us received our A. M.'s and left — except the Scm-
inoles and Henry Norris Russell, who had his eye on higher things
and stayed on to become the Doctor Russell we now point to with
pride.
The following summer ('98) I secured a position in the Chemical Lab-
oratory of the Baldwin Locomotive Works in Philadelphia, and spent my
vacation testing steel and iron and various other things from ten to
twelve hours a day. Arthur Kennedy was the good Samaritan who made
that summer tolerable for me by his kindness — our evening trolley rides
were our form of dissipation, and right pleasant they were too after
a long, hot day's work.
The next fall I went to Boston and became a "Tech" student. I
knew we had never seriously injured ourselves by over-work in col-
lege, but just how far we had kept on the safe side I never realized until
I got up against some of those M. L T. exams. I missed the old
college life at Princeton, but the year in Boston was a great thing for
me, and taught me a good deal I had never known before. I was the
only '97 man at the Institute of Technology, but there were four or five
18
from lower classes there, and over in Cambridge there was quite a
colony of Princetonians. The Princeton Club held several meetings
that year, and we whooped things up for Old Nassau in Johnny Har-
vard's stronghold. Speaking of stiff exams., Jack Frame used to tell
weird tales of the way they did things at the Law School— men
carried out on stretchers, etc.— but I will refer you to Jack for details
and proofs.
The next fall found me back at Princeton, vainly endeavoring to
fill Doc Jamison's shoes as Assistant in Mineralogy— a position which
'97 seems to have appropriated for all time, by the way, for Scobe Van
Nest now occupies it with credit to himself and '97. However, my
ambition was not for a professorial career, so when an offer came of
a position as Chemist to the Buffalo Iron Company, a Tennessee con-
cern, with two blast furnaces at this place, I decided to forego the joy
of being styled "professor" by the Sophomores, and accept. I have been
here for a year now, and although we are situated a hundred miles from
anywhere in particular, and it is a rare thing to see any but "Hill Bill-
ies" and "niggers," nevertheless my work is interesting, and as there
is no dearth of it, I manage to get along fairly well.
There is good trout fishing and excellent hunting in season, and the
"season" in this part of the state is not very clearly defined, so that my
dog "Princeton" and I have some good times when we can lock up the
Lab. and get away.
Well, "Pop," I believe that is about all— except to say that if you or
any other of the old '97 crowd should get lost and find yourself in this
part of the world, don't forget that I am here, and it will be
something more than a pleasure to me to take you in and extend to
you the privileges of "The Club" for as long a time as I can prevail
on you to accept them.
I might add that I have foresworn the razor, and now the breezes
of Tennessee, moving gently through my whiskers, make a sound like
that of many waters— or, perhaps, still more resembling the dulcet tones
of Burt Miller's cat-call, as oft upon the stilly night it floated across
the campus and woke us from deep dreams of peace and morning
chapel. With best wishes for yourself and any others of the faithful
who may be basking in the light of your countenance, I remain, as ever,
Yours,
Edward W. Axson.
Mannie, Tenn., Nov. 26. 1901.
HARRY VANDERBURGH BABCOCK.
My Dear Secretary:— In response to your letter, asking for an account
of what has been happening during the three years since graduation,
I would say that in my case the routine of daily life has been so un-
varied that it is pretty hard to pick out anything which would prove
interesting for a letter, so I can just state a few facts.
After spending the summer succeeding graduation at Martha's Vine-
19
yard, I entered a bank in New York, in the fall of '97, where the
Fates still keep me. As to what I have learned since then, I would
say, first and foremost, that banking hours (supposed by some to be
from nine to three) are not what they are cracked up to be, and if any-
one enters a bank with the idea of having a cinch, he will be sadly
disappointed, and it does not take three years to find this out by any
means.
It has been my good fortune to be able to be at all of our three re
unions, and to stay through Commencement Week at the great time
we had last June. These three trips to Princeton, with the addition
of a short one to Old Point Comfort and Washington, include all
the traveling I have done, so you can easily see that I have little or no
material with which to prolong this dull statement of facts. I will
close, therefore, before your patience gives out entirely. With best
wishes,
Harry V. Babcock.
2083 Fifth Avenue, N. Y., March 2, 1901.
CHARLES MERCER BAILEY.
My Dear Secretary: — Your numerous notices, postals, letters, etc.,
ending up with your telegram of the nth inst., duly received. Owing
to the fact that I have changed my address some five or six times
your messages were often considerably delayed. My seeming in-
difference is not without explanation. Primarily, I am a poor hand
to write a letter, and it is, consequently, quite an effort for me to
write. So, my dear "Pop," I know you'll appreciate this effort to
respond to your much-respected requests. Secondly, I was a Prince-
ton man for the first term, freshman year — September, '93, to Feb-
ruary, '94 — and I fear I was not thoroughly "filled with the spirit"
I have since learned to respect. My recollections of Princeton are
of the pleasantest, and the fine men I met there I shall always recall
with much pleasure. Yours truly,
C. Mercer Bailey.
823 North 24TH St.^ Philadelphia, Pa., May 13, 1901.
THOMAS EVANS BAIRD, JR.
My Dear Keener: — On December i8th, you were good enough to
write me, requesting a letter from me for the Class Record. Christmas
came on shortly after, and then, in a business way, the first of the year,
and I was kept very busy. Shortly after that I had a serious attack of
the grip, and since then have been kept busy preparing to close out
our business at my city address. That has entailed some worry, and a
bit of work. So I've put off writing you. I quite believe in my own
ability in most things, but not in writing, as you so kindly request.
If my talents ran in that direction, I could write you an interesting
letter, as I have had two months of Europe and the Paris Exposition
this summer. Speaking of that, it was very hot, "not warm," when
I was there, and, as they charged over $io per at the hotel, and 6 cents
for the show, I did not stay long. I'm not fond enough of hotels.
Later I had a very delightful trip through England and Scotland,
parts of both, and wish I might put my experience in writing for the
benefit of my classmates, though Paris would, perhaps, be more in line.
As I've never appeared in print, you may be sure that I regret this
lost opportunity. But for the honor of the Record, I forbear.
I trust you will keep me informed of the movements of the class,
as a whole, and believe in my very lively interest in all things pertaining
to its welfare. Believe me,
Very sincerely,
Thos. E. Baird, Jr.
Haverford, Pa., Feb. 4, 1901.
FRANK LOVE BALDWIN.
My Dear "Pop": — A well-merited rebuke is that which you admin-
ister to all delinquents in this matter of letter writing, even though it
is a set form, which addresses itself in identical terms to every one
of us. As for me, I cannot explain how or why, but the fact of the
matter is, I never, until the receipt of your latest prod, had the faint-
est idea that you wanted a letter from me for the Class Record. Some-
how I must have overlooked that interesting circular of yours in the
great volume of correspondence which you have hurled at me from
time to time — to my great delight, I assure you.
I do humbly beg pardon for remissness, and shall try to do my duty
now, though at the eleventh hour. It will be of scant interest, for
my life since leaving the classic shades, and all that, has been crowded
full of uneventfulness. I might leave this page entirely blank and tell
them full as much as I am about to confide to it. Let me say here
though, before I embark upon my tale, that I feel deeply honored, as
being an "X," to be permitted to contribute to this triennial record,
which, I have no doubt will fully prove your rosy predictions, even
were this "gem of purest ray serene" omitted.
In the year '95 then, I left Princeton, being at that time just entered
upon my Junior year, and set forth into the world to seek my for-
tune. During the summer I confined my search within the geographical
limits of Orange, N. J., playing baseball, dawdling about, and reading
novels, perhaps. In October it was my good luck to hear of a vacancy
in a New York commercial house, where an earnest and industrious
youth of my temperament would find a royal road to wealth and
power, albeit the length of that road was not mentioned, to the great
enhancement of my peace of mind and comfort. For a year and a
half I was employed as office boy and general factotum in this situa-
tion, at the end of which time I was filled with a degree of disgust for
the whole thing, equalled only by that of my employer for me, which
ended with my taking a graceful departure therefrom. I blush to think
of the salary I received there, and, therefore, will not speak of it here.
I then attached myself to the staff of the Orange Chronicle, which
staff indeed probably looked upon me as some rude parasite, without
due claim to existence. But I flatter myself that I soon proved my
right to live and my right to a place within the charmed circle of the
"Fourth Estate," for from being a cub reporter I have since risen to that
station where they speak of me as the "city editor," though why, and
with what justification in fact, is beyond me. I handle, it is true,
the matter which once a week is foisted on the long-suffering public
of my native hamlet as news, and perhaps the keen and analytical mind
can therein find the wherefore. I leave the task to him. Since June a
year ago I have been doing this, and nothing more, except occasionally
writing fiction for magazines to reject. Nothing I have ever written
has yet been published except in the columns of this Chronicle, or a
supplement to it. So much for my literary attainments.
I have traveled little. Once, nearly two years ago, I took a flying
trip to the South — not through it, but to it. That is, I went to Nor-
fold, thence penetrated clear to Atlanta, then withdrew, just as you
would drive a broom wisp into a half baked cake to test its cooking,
then remove it whilst guarding carefully, lest it make too large a
wound or explore too fully into dough that does not concern it. So
did I explore the South. The Adirondacks have rung with my ex-
plorer's ax (the one we used to chop the wood with in camp), and I
have even visited Niagara Falls; in which few sentences you have the
substance of my travels.
I have set no river on fire. I have eschewed politics — not on prin-
ciple — for I have none — but because I have found politics a fearful and
wonderful thing which is not to be comprehended by the first gay fool
that essays it. The one classmate whom I see nowadays is Edward G.
Kent, who dwells in our sister city, and who has bartered his soul for
a position with an electric lighting and power furnishing corporation.
We get along very well, however, for I never allude to his terrible
position, and besides I tickle his vanity once in a while by publishing
his name in the paper, which is here the very blue book weekly of
Orange society, and therefore makes something of the lad in mention-
ing him.
Sad to relate, I have not yet marched or been m.arched to the altar.
Or is it, tell me, a cause for gratulation? Some say it is, though they
deal in generalities, and give no clue to the real truth of the thing.
But I fear I have talked much too long already. My space limit must be
far over-run. Yet I call you to witness the truth of what I said at
first — that I might as well have not written this letter for all the good
it has done. However, if as you say, '97 is still interested in me, I say
in return that I am still more interested in '97.
"Here's to '97, drink her down, down, down, etc.,
Yours fraternally forever,
Frank L. Baldwin.
West Orange, N. J., Jan. 4, '01.
EDWARD DUFF BALKEN.
My Dear "Pop" : — Bill Trainer and I took dinner together the other
evening, and during the course of conversation it came out that
neither one had written you. Bill had a good excuse, I had a better
one. If Bill doesn't write you soon let me know, and I'll send him a
Class Secretary Letter — I have three or four I really don't need. Con-
fidentially, "Pop," this is the first thing I have ever written which is
guaranteed to appear in print, and even the advice given me by "Sleepy"
Graver, "don't try to be funny, just talk natural," scarcely serves to take
away that self-conscious feeling. Now for it !
In the autumn of '97 I was fortunate to have a position waiting for
me with Messrs. Weyman & Brother, of Pittsburg, manufacturers of
smoking tobacco, and my affairs went along undisturbed until the sum-
mer of 1899, when Luke Miller came out to see me prior to his de-
parture for Syria. Then and there Luke proceeded to tell me it was
essential to my health and well being that I pack my grip and go with
him, and the first of September saw us both with our faces turned to-
ward the Levant. After a month's pleasant travel we landed safely
at Bey rout. In the meantime we had been joined on our way across
France and down the Mediterranean by Bob Garrett, who, as you know,
was mixed up in a hunt after things archaeological. Leaving Luke and
Bob in Syria I went on to Cairo and stayed there until January. During
the latter part of my stay in Egypt I was with Bob Garrett again, and
from there we went to Italy together, and stayed until it was time for
him to return to his archaeological work in Syria. I came home in the
spring and resumed business in Pittsburg. Now let me say right here
that my latch-string hangs way out, you can't miss it, and I shall take
it as a personal grievance if any of the faithful come this way and fail
to give it a vigorous pull.
With kind and affectionate regard for you and the Class, individually
and collectively, believe me,
Always sincerely yours,
Edward Duff Balken.
Pittsburg, Pa., Feb. 18, 1901.
HENDERSON BARKLEY.
Beset with the languor of a tropical climate, ever threatened by the
nerve-destroying bacillus of "Yellow Jack," and busied with the cares
of a "pater-familias," Earkley is unable to find time for letter-writing.
From various sources the following meager facts have been gleaned:
The first year out of college he spent in the cotton business in New
Orleans. He is now a sugar planter at Luling, La., and is, there-
fore, doubtful of the wisdom of reciprocal trade relations with our
colonial acquisitions. That he still has his nerve with him is proved
by his persistent support of Republicanism in such a discouraging
atmosphere.
23
HENRY MILTON BEAM.
Dear Pop: — I object to being put lower down than the fourth group,
so will surrender before the fifth call comes.
My existence since I left Old Princeton in '97 has been a very peace-
ful one, for contrary to my expectations I haven't stirred the world
very much, but have simply been trying to give as good imitations of
Harry Fine as I could during the last three years. "In other words,
gentlemen," I have been teaching mathematics, for one year in the
State Normal School at Indiana, Pa., a good old Princeton town, and
since then at Flushing, N. Y., where I am at present, leading a pleasant
existence near to Croker's town, where I frequently see members of the
old class. Of course I am a member of the Princeton Club of New
York, and in this way see and hear more about Princeton than I
should otherwise. I have been back to Princeton on all the festive
occasions, except the first reunion, and cannot praise too highly our
triennial, which every one enjoyed so much. I am neither married nor
engaged at the present writing.
With this brief recital of commonplace facts, which I hope will be
more pleasant to read than they were to write, I will desist.
Wishing you, "Pop," many happy years and less trouble from your
wayward wards ; and honor and glory to '97.
Sincerely yours,
Henry M. Beam.
Flushing, N. Y., March 9, 'ci.
VICTOR SHAEFFER BEAM.
My Dear "Pop" : — Your extremely personal postal cards have brought
me to it at last. I have not much to say for myself, as I am not married
and was prevented from going to war by a very opportune attack of
that simple disease called "mumps." I spent the two years subsequent
to our graduation studying under the direction of Dr. Brackett in the
Princeton School of Electrical Engineering. Dr. Brackett and I never
entirely agreed on the subject of football playing; but, when the two
years were up, he kindly consented to give me the coveted degree of E.E.
Soon after leaving Princeton I entered the factory of the Westing-
house Electric & Mfg. Co., at Pittsburg, Pa., and immediately became
dead to the world.
The experience gained there was very good, and well worth the
trouble, even though starvation wages were paid, and that in spite of
the fact that for many months I had to work at night. It took me
just three months to find out that I did not know anything in the
electrical line. After that I began to learn many things. For several
months I was night foreman of the testing department, and took par-
ticular delight in making the Cornell men do their duty.
Last November it was decided that I had acquired enough shop
experience, and I was transferred to the N. Y. office of the company,
and since that time I have been engaged in digging up old and musty
patents, passing judgment upon them and posing as an expert whenever
24
it is deemed advisable to make a raid upon any of the enemy whom
we believe to be infringing our patents. On direct examination I al-
ways talk freely. On cross-examination I always close up like an
oyster.
My place of business is 120 Broadway, and I live in Flushing, N. Y.
It is not necessary to state that I think that there is no institution
equal to Princeton University, and no class of men equal to those in
the class of '97.
Your classmate,
Victor S. Beam.
Flushing, N. Y., March 9, '01.
HOWARD BEATTIE.
Beattie is singularly uncommunicative. He vouchsafes the infor-
mation that he is superintendent of a carpet factory at Little Falls,
N. J. This is the warp and the woof of his story — a web upon which
a fair pattern might be wrought were the details only available.
ALFRED CHESTER BEATTY.
My Dear Pop: — I have been receiving a number of notes from you,
and I have tried to find the blank you sent me, but I suppose it is
among some of my old mining clothes. My history is a brief one since
leaving Princeton. I took the degree of E. M. at Columbia School of
Mines, class of '98, and started West after graduation, and began to
work in the mining camps and in examination work.
Was married April i8th, igoo, to Ninette Rickard, and am at present
engaged in general practice of mining engineering, and am acting as
assistant to John Hays Hammond at the Stratton's Independence mine,
Victor, Colo. He is advisory engineer, and I am assistant engineer.
Am also connected with the Colorado Zinc Co., as general manager and
vice-president.
I hope that I may have the pleasure of seeing you out here some
time. Apologizing for my carelessness, which will not occur again,
I am, sincerely yours,
A. Chester Beatty.
Denver, Colo., May i, '01.
PAUL BEDFORD.
Dear Classmates : — My career since Ninety-seven went out into "the
wide, wide world" has been uneventful, and uncheckered with stirring
experiences ; only a continuation of that sober, industrious life which I
cultivated while we were at the "old burg." So to anyone looking for
heart-pulsations in perusing this autobiography of three years, I say
at the outset, go away, go far away.
The fall after leaving college I entered the Law School of the Uni-
versity of Pennsylvania. There, casting his lot in with mine, I found
25
"Eddie" Stanton, ex-Harvard, '97, Princeton A. B., A. M., University
of Pennsylvania, L.L.B., and member of the Pittsburg Bar. "Eddie"
induced me to join his boarding-house, which he enthusiastically repre-
sented as offering the unusual allurements of a go-as-you-please rising
hour, and twenty odd females, mostly elderly and affectionate. Tidings
of this attractive spot reached the ears of "Bandy" Derr, and as soon
as he could arrange it, we were gladdened by the addition of the afore-
said "Bandy." His excuse for being there was his pursuit of the ship-
building business on that most majestic and historical stream — no, I
do not mean the Hudson — but the Delaware river.
Life at University of Pennsylvania is quite enjoyable, inasmuch as
that institution is very partial towards Princeton men in offering them
the advantage of easy access to their Alma Mater; and this opportunity
was little neglected. After all, you know there's nothing like getting
"in touch" with the undergraduates. The Princeton Club of Phila-
delphia is another boon to our alumni at U. of P. ; you go to the club
feeling that everyone you see there has a most important common in-
terest with you ; there's no standing on ceremony. The personal ad-
vantages of membership in this club are only exceeded by the good done
in keeping the Princeton men closely united in all matters pertaining to
"Old Nassau." After a three years' course at the Law School, I was
graduated, returned to my home at Wilkes-Barre, and began the prac-
tice of law in Room 67, Coal Exchange Building. ("Pop," Keener told
me this "ad" could go in free of charge.) It is a small room, but has
a large vestibule and the latest comic papers, also a spittoon. And by
the way. Ninety-seven is well represented at this Bar (in numbers) ;
the list comprises MacCartney, "Ed." Shortz, "Lady" Jayne, "Bill"
Reynolds, and yours truly. We all belong to that numerous class of
lawyers known as "rising." Among us we will try to defend any con-
troversy that may arise involving the validity of Ninety-seven's claim
to the title of the most glorious class ever sent out from Princeton
University.
In conclusion I want to record my unbounded and never-to-be-for-
gotten pleasure in attending our triennial reunion last June, and my
expectation of another such time in 1902.
Hoping to see you all then.
Yours, as ever,
Paul Bedford.
Wilkes-Barre, Pa., Jan. 23, '01. *
HENRY CONKLIN BISSELL.
Dear Pop: — I have just recovered from an attack of smallpox or
I would have answered your letter before.
I am at present a bookkeeper for a manufacturing concern in Pen-
nington, N. J. For some time after leaving college I spent my time
tutoring and looking for a permanent job. I prefer the present em-
ployment.
26
My experience has been void of excitement. The only part I took
in the war was to go to the hospital, once in a while, and look at the
wounded men.
I am not married and have no particular hankering after that ex-
perience.
I spent last winter in Cuba, investigating ( ?) political conditions
there. This is the extent of my wanderings.
With kindest regards to all, I remain,
Very truly yours,
Henry C. Bissell.
GEORGE GOODWIN BLISS.
Even the twenty-fifth communication failed to elicit any reply from
Bliss. It is known that he is married, was once in the electrical and
photographic supply business at East Orange, N. J., and is now liv-
ing at Newark Valley, N. Y. Further information gratefully received.
FENIMORE LEWIS BODMAN.
Dear Classmates: — After sleepless nights and muttered curses, I
have decided that the dreaded moment can no longer be postponed;
and I must now pour into your listening ears the story of my life.
Do not mistake, in the above allusion to restless nights and shameless
profanity, any disinclination or disrespect to our beloved secretary.
I realize what a thankless task is his. It is only my natural modesty,
my hesitancy to speak of myself, that makes this task a weary one.
Had I climbed to a higher pinnacle of fame, accumulated millions, or
raised an illustrious family, how easily I could have held your atten-
tion! As it is, I have shut myself up and fearfully faced the questions:
"What am I? What have I?"
This latter I will tackle first, as it is more easily disposed of. I have
no wife, no millions, no literary efforts and no political aspirations —
only a fair position and a bald head — two promising possessions which
I mention with much pride.
Upon leaving college in 1895, I first became connected with the whole-
sale drygoods establishment of Marshall Field & Co., Chicago, Illinois.
I filled this position for a few months only, however, and in the spring
of 1S96 accepted an offer from the Milford Shoe Company, of Milford,
Massachusetts, to cover the largest cities of the Middle West as their
traveling salesman. In the summer of 1900 I made a second change
and became identified with Parke, Davis & Co., importers of crude
drugs, of New York City.
After five years' residence in New York, I am now located perma-
nently in Boston, representing the last mentioned concern ; and my old
friends and classmates v/ill find me ever at home to them at the Parker
House, my present address.
As to other circumstances and experiences that would interest the
class, I am sorry to deny you; but here you must be patient. To the
27
extremely curious I might state that these will appear later in book form,
with a photogravure of the author as he now is.
I regret that circumstances have kept me apart from the fellows,
that I have met only a few of them occasionally for a handshake or
a few words. I hope for better things in the future — yea, verily, to get
back to old Princeton before long.
I am closing. Let me join you in forgiveness to our secretary, who
has so mercilessly turned this searchlight upon us, and add my best
wishes for the eternal prosperity of us all.
Truly yours,
Fenimore Lewis Bodman.
Boston, Mass., May 3, '01.
ARTHUR HOYT BOGUE.
Dear Pop: — Your pleadings have at last touched a heart of stone.
I wish that was the only touch I've got. And so you want the sad,
sad story of my life.
Well, after leaving Princeton I embarked in various ventures — real
estate, which left me poorer than when I began (if possible). I tackled
law (which I wish I'd stuck to) and managed to turn an honest penny
now and then, and sometimes even to pick it up, and once or twice it
even got as far as my pocket, but generally it slid from my palm to the
palm of the next man. However, nothing suited me until I got into the
coal business. Even politics did not do so as much as coal.
Then I got married, and everybody congratulated me and said : "So
you're going to settle down and marry," and I said, "No, I'm going
to settle up and marry !"
Then we left Chicago and came to New York to live. We first went
to housekeeping in the apartment of Mrs. Custer, afterwards leased to
us by Mrs. Ruth McEnery Stuart. There we spent our honeymoon,
while I learned to read proof. My wife thinks a Princeton education^
is long on beer and short on spelling and punctuation. But in defense
of Old Nassau, I tell her I am not a fair sample, and if she thinks my
spelling is bad she ought to see some of the other fellows. She thinks
that is a compliment to the other fellows.
In return for teaching me to read proof, I am teaching her base-
ball. She saw her first game of baseball at Princeton at the triennial,
and she is now getting so that she knows the pitcher from the batter,
but for a long time she didn't. She says that as soon as she can tell
which side is ahead, she is going to offer a cup to the Princeton team.
I said nothing when she suggested it, I only ran over in my mind as
to which college would get it away from us.
Mrs. Bogue has adopted Princeton as her own, and in all her stories
she makes Princeton win — a thing all our betting will not do sometimes.
The orange and the black are her colors as well as mine, and "Old
Nassau" her song. It is her own suggestion to dedicate her next book
—a book of travel sketches from Europe, in one of which Princeton
28
figures, entitled "The Second Time" to Princeton. There's loyalty for
you!
After living three months in a furnished apartment, we looked at
every other apartment house in process of construction in the city of
New York, for we wanted a new one, and as there were a few less than
a thousand, we are walking encyclopaedias of New York apartments.
We can tell you just by the look in a man's eye or by passing a careless
hand over his hair (after learning his address) just what rent he pays,
the style of his fire-escape, the cut of the hall-boy's uniform; how
much his ice bill is, the state of his gas metre, and after adding these
together and subtracting his salary from the sum total, we can tell
you just how much he is out each year.
Finally we found an apartment overlooking the Park, which my
wife took for "the view," and I took for the fire-escape. Here we
have settled upon the sixth floor, and the narrative stops, for this
is as far as we've got.
With congratulations and a "Here's how" to '97, I am,
Very sincerely yours,
Arthur Hoyt Bogue.
348 Central Park West, N. Y. City, March 30, 1901.
PARKER JOHNSON BOICE.
My Dear Keener: — I don't know of anything worth writing so I have
kept quiet until your last urgent message. I graduated from the
Indiana Law School last spring, and since that time have been travel-
ing in Colorado, New Mexico and Arizona for my health. Most of the
time I have been camping and hunting. Last fall I got a number of
deer and antelope in Colorado, but down here I have not succeeded in
getting anything larger than ducks. I returned yesterday from a month's
hunting trip to the southern part of the Territory, where I had good
sport, but did not get much game. I saw Johnny Graham and Shi.
Thompson in Denver last summer, but have not seen any other Prince-
ton men since then.
Yours sincerely,
Parker J. Boice,
Prescott, Arizona, Feb. 21, 1901.
DUDLEY PHELPS BONNELL.
Dear Keener: — Your letter of March i6th received. I supposed
letters v/ere wanted from those only who had done something unusual,
either brilliant or otherwise, so I thought I had no need to bother you
as I consider my career, since leaving college, most ordinary. After
leaving Princeton I went to the University of Michigan for a year,
where I was a member of the D. K. E. Fraternity. Had a fine year
there, but my health gave out and I had to go South for a year. When
I got back to Grand Rapids I went into the electrical business, then
into the commission business, and now I am out here for my health
again. I guess this will either make me or break me, but I hope, and in
29
fact am assured, that six months out here will put me in shape so I
can return home and attend to business.
My thoughts are very often of Princeton and the happy days I spent
while there. I will try my best to be with you all at the next reunion.
I hope the other fellows write their "letters" more promptly than I
have written mine.
Wishing you every success in the publication of the "Record," I am,
Sincerely yours,
Dudley P. Bonnell.
Silver City, N. M., P. O. Box 57, March 20, 1901.
BURDETTE LEON BOWNE.
Dear Pop: — If I have cussed you once, it has been a hundred times.
Such a persistent devil I have not come in contact with since I left
Princeton, four years ago. I cannot for the life of me see how my
existence since I left you all will in any way benefit my fellow class-
mates. Your postals have made all kinds of trouble for me, and i
would have been a great relief if the blooming postal authorities had
prosecuted you long ago. I know, old man, just how much trouble
you are put to in order to keep up the records of glorious '97, and am
very sorry that I have been so negligent in my duties.
Since I left Princeton nothing worthy of note has happened to your
old friend "Doc." After loafing around nearly a year I at last received
a position with the Detroit City Gas Co. My position is anything but
enviable, for it falls to my lot to be the "Hot Air Machine" of the
company. I have to explain what the "Funny Papers" have made
ridiculous, i.e., that according to Prof. Loomis, whom you undoubtedly
became acquainted with during your existence at Princeton, it is a
physical impossibility for a gas metre to run fast. Of course, after
my convincing "spiel" everyone is satisfied that the Gas Co. is not
a highway robber. You would enjoy a highly amusing time if you
could spend but one hour with me when the chronic kickers have their
inning near the end of the month when it is time to pay gas bills.
I have not fought for my country in Cuba nor in the Philippines,
but have devoted my time exclusively to business since I secured
my job. A quiet little game of poker has become a lost art with
me, and as for society I have neither the time nor money to devote
to such. If, like some of my fortunate friends, I had experienced
anything exciting it would be dead easy to satisfy you with a letter, for
every one likes the exciting, but it has been, perhaps to my misfortune,
my luck to drive along the best I could, and try to make both ends
meet. Not being a hoopsnake it is harder than one might think. We
all look back upon our days at Princeton and see, when it is too late,
that we did not make the best of our opportunities, and it is with sad
regret that we were like those girls who didn't get enough oil for
their lamps when such a thing was possible. In speaking of oil for
illuminating purposes I refer to years gone past, for now we all know
30
that gas is the all-powerful illuminant. I have had to drive this fact
into so many heads that it is second nature now for to sell gold
bricks. If our dear old friend Prof. Libbey wants a hot-air machine
down at Princeton let me know, for I am just the man he is looking
for. A man would have to be good to make any one believe that the
Princeton gas could be used for lighting to better advantage than
fireflies. No doubt you had some experience with it yourself.
If you will send me a letter with everything written but the date
I will gladly insert it at your request. So long, old man, I may see
you soon. Give my best to all my old instructors at Lawrenceville,
but don't let on that Dud Bonnell and I used to run a gambling joint
in the Kennedy. Success to you.
Yours sincerely.
Doc BOWNE.
Detroit, Mich., April lo, 1901.
JEROME BRADLEY.
Dear Pop: — I am afraid my letter will be a rather short one, as my
career since graduation has not been very eventful.
I put in the first eighteen months in the Tarrytown National Bank
at "hard labor," and finding that such a confined life did not agree
with me I began a series of vacations, which have lasted more or less
ever since. These idle hours I have divided between coaching base-
ball and hunting.
So there you are. You can judge for yourself that I am still living
and making the best of it.
Your classmate,
Jerome Bradley.
DoBBS Ferry, N. Y., January 24, '01.
NELSON BRADLEY.
Bradley is nominally a banker at Tarrytown, N. Y., but actually
he is a globe trotter and works at the business so steadily that the
secretary can never reach him. Indirectly it is learned that he has
graced with his presence various portions of the United States and
Canada, the West Indies, Mexico, the Spanish Republics of South
America, Spain, Italy, Palestine, Persia, Egypt, France, Germany and
England. It is expected that by the time of the Quinquennial he will
have explored the rest of the earth and will be projecting a journey
to one of the remote planets.
FRANCIS SOLOMON BRENNEMAN.
Dear Pop and Brothers: — Well, here I am at last. After about
seven requests, two or three personal letters, and as many postal
cards from our esteemed Secretary, I am finally brought into line to
31
tune my pipe for the honor of '97, and to the edification ( ?) of my
brethren.
You want to know my history since we passed the loving-cup on that
eventful night, drinking each other's health, and wishing each other
joy. It is short, but not all the proverbial "sweet." Life is not all
a path of roses, so I find. However, the briars by the way are in no
sense a disappointment to me, nor do I wish them gone. On the con-
trary I believe they are keeping me on "the straight and narrow road"
which leads to victory.
But now for the short part. I remained three years longer in
Princeton than some of you, under the tutelage of "Brintie Greene."
And you don't know what you missed. Why we had everything.
Just to give you an instance, he took us from A to Z one day, and
that wasn't all — then he started to count. Then the bell rang, and
that relieved him.
I took in the games, as we went along. We won some, too, but we
had to send "Jerry" and "Broke" back to teach them "ye" games.
Do you know that it used to be the pride of my life — it is yet for that
matter — that I sat between those two stars. And the way they, with
all the rest, won those games from Yale, is the very way now I am
trying to win the game of life.
I have not traveled any to speak of, nor have I taken any degrees.
I was lucky in getting a position at once after Seminary closed ; and
now I am just a plain, everyday country preacher, with all the
accompaniments. I am not getting rich. Illustration. The first couple
I married, the groom was a D.D.S. A few weeks before the event
took place I went to him to have an old molar extracted, which did
not carry with it the most savory odor. He did the job, but took
no fee. Later I married them on the strength of that. But imagine
"the sweet thing" being traded off for an old tooth.
I was married the 20th of June last to the best girl that was ever
in Princeton, "one of the natives." And this is the only alliance or
secret organization I have entered into since graduation. Indeed it
is quite enough, for I have all I can do to keep door and run errands
for our present company. My wife is president, secretary and treasurer
of the firm. All communications should be addressed to her.
Addresses delivered. Man alive, Pop. Every Sabbath twice a day.
Prayer meeting talks and Sabbath School dissertations galore. Funeral
orations, patriotic addresses, curtain lectures.
But I have already said too much for a modest man. Let me hear
from the fellows though, and I'll tell you more; if you want it.
Very sincerely yours,
"Dutch" Brenneman.
Greenwich, N. J., March 4, '01.
32
HOWARD CROSBY BROKAW.
Dear Pop: — On my return, yesterday, I found several letters of
yours in which you called me all sorts of delinquents. I am sorry,
but, as usual, I have an excuse. As you know, I was laid up last fall
and was compelled to have quite a serious operation performed When
I finally came around I decided to take a trip for my health. So, my
father and I sailed on the Hamburg-American ship "Prinzessin Victoria
Louise," for the West Indies, stopping at most of the islands, and
touching South America at several places. I left the ship at Nassau
and went to Palm Beach, Florida. Spent several weeks there. I
reached home only yesterday. So you see, I am not as bad as you
think. I did not have my mail forwarded to me because I did not
wish to be bothered. This is the second voyage to the West Indies
I have had since graduation. On the former visit, there were others
of "the great and glorious" with me, and, ye gods, what a time we had !
These together with a voyage to Japan in the fall of '97, comprise the
extent of my journeyings in distant lands. I am not married, but am
very much in love — with old Nassau.
With best wishes for the entire class, I remain,
Yours as ever,
Howard C. Brokaw.
AsTOR Place, N. Y. City, March 21, '01.
FREDERICK WALWORTH BROWN.
Dear Pop: — So you're having spasms because "tempus fugit" and
the ship doesn't move. Well, my history won't detain you long. The
summer after graduation I pretended to read law, and actually did
everything on earth but work. Blackstone is pretty blame' poor read-
ing for summer anyway. That winter I was back at the Old University
as Fellow in History, as you may recall. That was one of the softest
snaps I'm liable to encounter in this incarnation. Billy Sloane had
descended to Columbia and Paul Van Dyke hadn't yet arrived. I
worked when I chose, loafed when I chose, and read what I chose,
and while a generous slab of the last was history there were several
generous slabs which were not. In the spring I wrote a thesis which
I trust Professor Coney consigned to his waste basket, and received
my Master's degree.
The following summer I worked in a bank — worked. Lord yes !
Footing columns isn't my strong suit.
That winter I spent in a law office, working for nothing and board-
ing myself. Was almost reduced to my pajamas by spring. In August
I came out to Chicago, where for six months I held down a position
in a salvation factory, otherwise known as a Sunday School Associa-
tion. At the end of the six months I received a distinct intimation
from the head that the Lord had not called me to the work, a fact
with which I was already acquainted. So I paddled around the city
till I secured a position with a firm of lawyers, which place I am still
filling.
33
Recently I have been doing some writing, and find that the net
proceeds after paying postage, stationery bills and stenographers' fees
will about keep me supplied with Bull Durham.
Yours sincerely,
F. Walworth Brown.
Chicago, III., Dec. 21, igoo.
THOMAS BEAVER BROWNE.
Dear Pop: — Nothing so interesting nor eventful has happened in my
career since leaving college that you should so persistently solicit a
letter from me concerning the same.
It won't do you any good to learn that for some time I did nothing
in particular; then later with my brother and Kilpatrick — both of '96 —
took a 2,000 mile bicycle ride through England, Holland, Belgium,
Germany, Switzerland and France, after which I "rested" for some
months, and finally went to work in the employ of various electrical
companies for a few years, and eventually got into and then out of
the Electrical Trust (the so-called Philadelphia Electric Co.) in a con-
dition rather the worse for wear, physically. Last summer the same
trio, being advised favorably of the trip on the Great Lakes, took a
week off, and started out to look them over — which we did — making the
run from Philadelphia to Buffalo, thence by steamer to Duluth and
from there through St. Paul, Chicago, and back home. Last fall,
my brother and I chased out west for a short outing, touching up
several of the western states, the Pacific coast and Mexico, and home
via New Orleans. We had a fine trip.
Save for a few quiet visits to Princeton and other places of interest
there is at present nothing doing.
Yours sincerely,
T. B. Browne.
Philadelphia, Pa., March 28, '01.
CARL EMERSON BUCKINGHAM.
Dear Pop: — Judging by communications of various sorts which have
composed the bulk of my mail of late, I have concluded that some-
thing in the form of a letter is about the proper thing. So, after
graduation I remained in Princeton until November following, en-
gaged in tutoring most of the time. From there I came to New
York and studied music. Two months of the summer spent at Lake-
hurst, N. J., and then I resumed study here. In the spring of '99 my
domicile was changed to Los Angeles, California. Collette went there
about the same time, having been married a short time before, and we
spent much time together during that summer.
I entered the New York Law School in October, '99. Spent the
following summer in Los Angeles also. In the fall, Gulick and I took
up our abode together in New York and lived in peace and happiness
34
for several months, when I had to go to Los Angeles in January, after
remaining there a couple of months I continued my course here, and
that brings it to date.
Yours sincerely,
C. E. Buckingham,
New York City, April 23, 1901.
ROBERT STUART CAMPBELL.
To the Class of '97,
Large and Square,
Greeting: — Well, "Pop" has won, he has fought it out along this
line, and it is due to his pertinacity in coaxing and threatening that
I am now in deep travail, endeavoring to give birth to an epistolary
production worthy a place in the Triennial Record of the class of '97.
It will perhaps be better to preface my remarks by asking the "dear
reader" to pardon the unseemly intrusion of the "L" but, as this
letter concerns me, my past history, my present condition of servitude,
and my future prospects, it must of necessity contain a superfluous
amount of the "Ego."
And now what? I almost wish I had never commenced, but I
have gone too far to retreat. This autobiography has its beginning
in June, '97, when \, in company with other benighted spirits was
thrown out of a job at Princeton University. During the six months
succeeding that sad event I enjoyed a precarious existence living off
of what I spent, and, incidentally, my "Dad." For the past three
years I have been located in North Carolina, in the employ of the
Seaboard Air Line Railway. My life in Dixie has been very pleasant
as my connection with the railroad has enabled me to become ac-
quainted with a large part of North and South Carolina and Georgia.
But I have made no material advancement, in fact, my career has been
one of retrogression and for that reason I am thinking seriously of
becoming a nomad and of seeking for new pasture.
As for my future I can only say that
"He either fears his fate too much,
Or, his deserts are small.
Who dare not put it to the touch
To win or lose it all."
And being in that condition of mind I would not be surprised to find
myself in the abode of the Aztec, or in the bungalow of a Tagalog, in
love with a Supiy-aw-Lot. For, up to the present time I have not
been able to ensnare nor to be ensnared.
Thanking my readers for their kind attention, I shall close with the
toast, to the members of the class of '97, one and all,
"A health to our future, a sigh for our past,
We love, we remember, we hope to the last."
Robert S. Campbell.
PiNEBLUFF, N. C, April 17, '01.
35
ARTHUR FLETCHER CASSELS.
Cassels is very ill with typhoid fever and hence could not reply to
any of the secretary's "final" appeals. He is second lieutenant of
artillery in the United States Army and is located in the Artillery
School at Fortress Monroe. During the Spanish war he was with
the army in Cuba and during the Philippine insurrection he saw
service about Manila. Prior to 1899 he had been connected with the
Interstate Commerce Commission and the State Department.
WILLIAM WELLS CHURCH.
Dear Classmates: — After graduation I spent the summer with my
family in the Berkshire Hills. In early September I left for Lafayette,
Ind., to coach the Perdue University football team. I was sorry to
miss our first reunion, but I remembered all the old boys, and was
there at least in spirit.
In December my contract with Perdue having been fulfilled, I came
East. On the 16th of December, '97, I started in to work for the
Murphy Varnish Co., of Newark, N. J., as salesman. My work was
in Brooklyn and surrounding territory. While with the Murphy
Varnish Co. I lived with my brother in Newark. I was lucky enough
to attend both the Washington Birthday and Commencement reunions
of '98, and it is needless to say that under the guidance of Henry
Russell I had a splendid time.
In October, '98, I came to Pittsburg, and went into the sales depart-
ment of the Cahill Water Tube Boiler Co. The same fall I played
on the Duquesne County and Athletic Club football team of that city.
This was a strong professional team, gotten together by several rich
men for the sport of the thing. I remained in this position until Octo-
ber, '99, when I went to Washington, D. C, to coach the Georgetown
University football team. I returned in December of the same year,
and went to work with the Carnegie Steel Co., in their Homestead
Plant, at Munhall, Pa. I am still there, and if I can keep on the
right side of Mr. Morgan, Carnegie, or Frick, or whoever may own
the plant, I hope to stay a while. This last fall I was business man-
ager, and also played on the Homestead Library and Athletic Club foot-
ball team. This was also a professional team, and Princeton was
represented by Arthur Poe and myself. We licked everything in sight.
Cupid has thus far left me whole-hearted, and some girl is making
a big mistake and will sooner or later realize what she is missing. A
liberal reward will be paid to the person finding said girl. I neglected
to say that I was there with both feet at our great reunion in June,
and shall long remember what a happy time I had swapping lies with
Bill Reynolds, Scoby Van Nest, and other liars of their standing. I
am already looking forward to our reunion in 1902.
After the ist of March, I shall be living at Munhall, Pa., which is
just outside of Pittsburg, about forty minutes ride on the street car.
I hope that any '97 man that strikes Pittsburg will let me know, and it
36
is unnecessary for me to say that my latch key is always out and ready
to be used by any of my classmates. For those of learning, I have the
Carnegie Library close at hand. For those of a mechanical turn of
mind, there is the largest steel plant in the U. S. right across the road;
while those of a sportive nature will also be taken care of as Mrs.
Nation has thus far not honored us with a visit. "Come one, come all,"
and stay just as long as you can and will.
Wm. W. Church.
Pittsburg, Pa., March 28, '01.
PAUL DAVID CLARK.
Dear Old, Persistent Pop: — I haven't set the world on fire since
leaving Princeton, though I have been all over the country — even
way up into Alaska — looking for something combustible. Am now
back in Dayton, Ohio, and will be glad to see any of old '97 who
may wander that way. Paul D. Clark.
Dayton, Ohio, May 13, 1901.
JAMES KING CLARKE.
My dear Pop: — I received your notice some few days ago as being
one of the delinquents, which surprised me very much, as it seems to
me that a month or two ago I both filled out your blank and wrote
a short note.
I know. Pop, it's only fair for me to write you a letter for the book,
since you have been to all the trouble of getting the fellows together
and keeping them there, as you have always done, most admirably, and
because of the bully time you gave us last Commencement. I am
simply too busy here making automobiles, which, by the way, are the
best built in the U. S., to even take in my usual trip to Florida. Since
leaving college in December, '95, I have had a varied and more or less
exciting experience. My travels have not been extensive, but have
proved to be both interesting and beneficial. Have been over into the
Rocky Mountains of Idaho and Montana three times since leaving
college, and have spent part of every winter in Florida. Had a
rather interesting experience in Key West just previous to the
Spanish war, which would scarcely bear repeating here. Some of it
would not look well in print, but if you want to know about it, some
of the fellows will tell you of a few startling occurrences.
So you see, Pop, I have just drifted about till I had a couple of sad
experiences, then I got down to work like all the rest, and here I am.
I picked out the automobile business as a good, new and modern thing,
and believe there is money to be made in it, so I will stay by the ship
till I make some money, then pull my freight to a more congenial and
soothing climate, such as that which is found in the islands of the
South Pacific.
I manage to get up to the good old burg about once every two
37
months, but the oftener I go the lonelier I get, so I am going to re-
serve my visits hereafter till spring (June) and fall.
As ever, your classmate,
James King Clarke.
Ardmore, Pa., Feb. 26, '01.
SAMUEL CLAY.
The warlike conditions which have recently obtained in the State
of Kentucky suggested to Clay's friends several hypotheses to account
for his long silence. The well-known aggressiveness of his nature,
coupled with his physical fitness to serve as a target, caused a great
fear that he had been the "innocent bystander" in some one of the nu-
merous interchanges of social amenities that are wont to amuse the in-
habitants of Kentucky shire-towns on festive occasions. The secretary
put his Sherlock-Holmes system to work and finally succeeded in re-
lieving this fear. Communication was established with the farm by
means of John Reilly's improvement on Marconi's wireless telegraphy,
and the message was received : "Am raising live stock." At this
juncture, owing to Colonel's explosive volubility, the coherer became
tangled and the rest of the despatch is shrouded in the oblivion of the
waving Blue Grass. So much of the message as was received, how-
ever, is still redolent of the fragrance of that Bourbon which is dis-
tilled by moonlight.
HENRY STEINER CLEMENT, JR.
Dear Secretary: — A letter from me will be of but little or no in-
terest, still I shall write one if for no other reason but defense from
those suggestive postals of profanity (implied). Since leaving col-
lege I have had a most uneventful career, studying law for about a
year, in General B. F. Tracy's New York office, and at the same time
attending the New York Law School. Late in 1898 I gave up the
law and since that time I have been engaged in the hotel business
with my father at his house, Congress Hall, Saratoga. N. Y., during
the season, from June to October of each year, the balance of the
time being passed in New York and Saratoga, with an occasional
trip to other points.
I have missed only one football game with Yale since leaving
college, that being at New Haven, in '97, and have seen all the base-
ball games with Old Eli in New York. I deeply regret having
missed last June's reunion, and I shall expend every effort to be on
hand in 1902. I saw a number of the fellows in Princeton on Nov.
17 last, but naturally for a short time only. Hoping to see that
book soon, I am. As ever, sincerely yours,
Henry S. Clement, Jr.
Saratoga Springs, N. Y., April 4, 1901.
38
PERCY ROBERT COLWELL.
^ Dear Pop:— It hardly seems necessary for a man who has lived
"the quiet life" ever since Princeton University gave him an A. B.,
to write a letter telling you about it. "The quiet life" does not
furnish much material for exciting narrative, and, even though one
be very lazy, he wearies, sometimes, of its calm, and longs for a fling,
feels the surge of red blood and the eagerness to do something
"strenuous"— this particularly when news comes that Teddy Roose-
velt is on the warpath, as has happened so frequently in these lacter
days. But my strenuous impulses have generally been compelled to
find an outlet in tramping about the country or in some other such
inoffensive pastime. Even ths afternoon I've been workng off one
of them upon a football, in company with certain other staid mem-
bers of the University Faculty.
That's almost enough of an introduction. Now for autobiography—
from the day when Arthur Leonard took particular care of my
sprained ankle while the rest of the fellows put me in through the
car windov/. I spent the next five months at home, recovering from
that same sprained ankle, and wondering if, upon the face of the
earth, there was any lucrative employment for which I was fit. Then
I "got a job" and went to Plainfield to live. About this same time
I did a rapid sprint down West street, New York, to catch a train,
and thereby discovered that my ankle was well. So I threw away
my cane and once more walked on two legs as other men do.
In Plainfield I was general assistant in "The New Jersey Military
Academy," a private day school for boys which had an ephemeral
existence. I taught eleven branches, ranging from spelling to geome-
try and Virgil, and I also exercised a disciplinary jurisdiction over
some twenty interesting infants of various ages. My one achieve-
ment was to beat some sense and a little knowledge of spelling into
the head of a small boy who, when first I knew him, solemnly spelled
pig "p-i-g-u-e." That hoy was fourteen years old and came from
Chicago.
In the following April "The New Jersey Military Academy" passed
away. Its death was very sudden— due to some curious transactions
of its principal — and I was left once more wondering what use the
world had for me. The suspense was not, however, of long duration,
and in June I went to live as private tutor at a cottage in the Ramapo
Valley, near Ramseys, N. J.
Here I stayed for over a year, endeavoring to teach two boys cer-
tain rudiments of knowledge which are considered proper to the
juvenile education. When the strenuous impulses came I took to the
fields with dog and gun— and the pheasants would rise and fly away in
derision. I did, however, shoot two clay-pigeons. Also I became
a constant pedestrian and explored the hills and the Ramapo Valley
with much zest. "Light Horse Harry" Leigh was supposed to be
living in Suffern, only four miles away — in reality he spent all his
days at Tuxedo — and about once a week I would tramp over to
39
Suffern to see him. Now, Suffern is a town of perhaps fifteen
hundred people and twice as many dogs. I had seven canine friends
who were wont to follow at my heels when I was pursuing my
perambulations about the country, and when I appeared in Suffern
with this escort, there invariably began a celebration which "made
Rome howl." Curiously enough I never found Harry at home.
In the summer of '99 I was appointed to an instructorship in the
Greek Department here, and I have since been leading a pleasant
but eventful life, insinuating "circumstantial participles" into the
Irains of anxious freshmen, endeavoring to energize lazy sophomores
and to discover to them the beauties of Homer and Euripides, trying
to refrain from calling Seward Erdman's kid brother "Spud" in the
classroom, really learning some Greek, and working in a desultory
fashion in the English Department for a dim and distant A. M. I
have not yet been mobbed by the students nor had my windows
broken, though I inhabit the room once occupied by Professor
Hoskins. Neither have I been treated to firecrackers and alarm
clocks in the fashion in which we were wont to make life merry for
our aged guide in the intricacies of Homeric Greek, though I hold
forth in a part of the room out of which he chased us on one memo-
rable morning — with fire in his eye and an umbrella in his hand.
From such misfortunes may I be preserved !
Many younger brothers of '97 enter the classes each year. May the
privilege be mine to see the sons of '97 one day sit in my lecture room !
Scoby Van Nest and Mrs. Scoby are here, and Davy Magie, and for
the sake of the old class we try to see that the University does not go
too far wrong.
There is always a welcome for '97 men at 33 Blair Hall, and with that
trite information I'll turn off the gas and go to dinner. Success to you.
Pop, and to every classmate. Faithfully yours,
Percy Robert Colwell.
S3 Blair Hall, Princeton, N. J., Dec. 8, 1900.
ROBERT COMIN.
Ady Dear Keener: — I thought I had contributed all the information
you desired, when I filled out the blank question sheet you forwarded.
As I arn anxious to see a Triennial Record of '97 come out soon,
though, and as you are looking for something more, I will send these
few additional details of my career :
After being stationed for two years at Bloomfield, N. J., as a kind
of general utility man in the High School, I received an appointment
as instructor in History in a new high school, opening in Brooklyn,
called the Eastern District High School. I came here in February,
1900, and am growing up with the school.
The only experience in my career since leaving college, in the way
of an adventure, was a pleasant little trip abroad during the summer
of 1900. I went with no special object in view, but to see a little of
the Old World and get a glimpse of the Exposition. I landed in Eng-
40 _
land in the early part of July and after taking a hurried trip through
central England and spending a week in London, I went direct to
Cologne and Bonn. I spent about a month in Bonn. There were
about 2,000 students in the university at the time. So far as I could
see they have none of the delightful outdoor life that is worth a college
course to an American student. From Bonn I went on up the Rhine,
visiting Heidelberg, Frankfurt, Nuremberg and Miunich. Then I spent
a few days in Switzerland, ascending the Rigi, and ended my sight-
seeing by spending a week at Paris.
As might be expected of one who was a "poler" in college, I am
doing a little graduate work in history and economics. I am not yet
aiming at any more degrees. I feel that I have all I can do to carry
my A. B. at present.
Here's one man that is praying for a rattling good baseball team for
1901 and a football team that will make Yale sorry she ever saw it,
and will bury such little incidents as Cornell and Columbia.
Awaiting anxiously the Triennial Record of '97 and with best wishes
for the secretary, and every classmate, I am,
Ever faithfully,
Robert Comin.
Brooklyn, N. Y., Feb. 26, 1901.
LE ROY CLARK COOLEY, JR.
Dear Pop: — After leaving college I took up the study of Theology
at New College, Edinburgh, Scotland. The students in Edinburgh
number about five thousand. They have very little of what we would
call college life, because there are no dormitories. Most of the stu-
dents live in "digs," as they call their lodgings, in a students' quarter,
in the old town across the Meadows. I had the pleasure one afternoon
of searching out the autograph of our James McCosh in the Registrar's
book of the University. The professors are attended by an usher, who
wears a silk hat and usually has a red nose and is fat, with brass
buttons — quite imposing. This usher is supposed to keep order and
answer various questions. At the beginning of the term nearly every
student attends nearly every class to see how he might like it, to sample
it, so to speak. After the electives are handed in, the attendance falls
off wonderfully. Instead of paying a single tuition fee as with us, the
student paj's £3 for each lecture course he takes. As a result the canny
Scot student often has only two subjects instead of six or seven.
The Professor of English holds the conspicuous position among the
Edinburgh students which dear old Cam did with us. In fact, I at-
tended one or two demonstrations which made it seem like home.
Singing plays a very important part in the Scotch system of horsing.
On one occasion the English professor entered his class room to the
hymn, "See the hosts of Hell advancing, Satan leading on."
I attended the Easter term at Oxford. The many dififerent colleges
gathered together in one town offer many advantages, especially in
41
athletics, from the fact that the University is represented by virtually
an intercollegiate team. Each College dines together in its common
hall at night. The other three meals the students have in their rooms.
Four meals a day are very conducive to hospitality. Oxford is sur-
rounded by water very suitable for boating of every description. When
the examination time came I was surprised to see most of the stu-
dents of my acquaintance decamp into nearby villages to study in peace
and quiet.
The last two years I have been studyng at Union Theological Semi-
nary. Things have been uneventful except that I was on the Steamship
Hamilton which sank the Steamship Macedonia, in a fog, off Sea-
bright, June 13, 1899. Another adventure was that I was thrown out
of a carriage and the horse and carriage rolled on top of me down an
embankment. No bones broken.
At present I am serving as Associate Chaplain in Hampton Institute.
The congregation has averaged about eight hundred so far, made up
of three races — red, black, and white.
I am trying to develop the Princeton spirit among the students here
at Hampton.
With good wishes and greetings to all the members of the Great and
Glorious Class. Sincerely,
Le Roy C. Cooley, Jr.
Hampton, Va., Feb. 23, 1901.
FRANK BERTINE COWAN.
My Dear Classmates: — Having just received notice that my delin-
quency has caused our Secretary to wander from "the narrow way," I
feel that I must perform my duty in this respect at once, and so re-
lieve myself from any farther responsibility for his wanderings.
The story of my life since graduation can be summed up in few
words. Immediately after leaving the "Classic shades" I returned to
my Country Seat (?) and spent three months renewing my acquaint-
ance with those who know what it means "to earn their bread by the
sweat of their brow."
In the autumn of that year I entered Auburn (not the penitentiary)
and pursued a course of theological study. The following summer I
practiced on some meek and long-sufifering people among the hills, and
succeeded in organizing a church (good, old orthodox Presbyterian,
too), with fifty-six charter members.
Then occurred the "great event" of my life. I was married Sept.
14, 1898, and WE sailed immediately for "the land o' cakes."
I spent six months in Edinburgh studying theology, and then we
traveled for two months in England, France, Switzerland and Italy.
We returned to our native heath in May and for ten weeks I ex-
pounded the Scriptures to "Old Duff," Anthony Comstock, and other
notables, at Stamford, N. Y. In the fall I entered Auburn Seminary
for my third and last year of theological study, and graduated from
42
that instituion in May. I was ordained May i6, and ever since I have
been trying to lead men into "the narrow way," hence my haste in
responding to the Secretary's second appeal.
By the way, I almost forgot to mention that I am a happy pater and
claim the distinction of possessing one of the "Jewels."
I think I have recorded everything (and possibly more) that would
be of interest to those who will have the privilege of perusing these
lines.
With best wishes for the success of "Our Glorious Class,"
Faithfully yours,
Frank B. Cowan.
MoRRisviLLE, N. Y., Feb. i8, 1901.
JOHN HAMILTON COWAN.
A course of theology, first at Princeton and later at Auburn, drove
"the father" into such a depth of philosophic misanthropy that he re-
fuses to yield to the blandishments of the secretary. To those who
were wont to be the auditors of his impassioned eloquence, and who
have heard from his lips many an outburst of Ciceronian invective
against the theological heresies which becloud the thinking of the
present day, it may seem strange that a man so evidently destined to
sway multitudes by the power of his rhetoric should so voluntarily
relegate himself to the realms of un-Princetonian desuetude.
Habitat — Pittston, Pa,
EARL WALKER COX.
Dear "Pop": — If I tried, I think it would be possible to condense
all the information you would like to have into the space required for
a telegram, which would be a poor return for the numerous communi-
cations forwarded to me by the secretary.
Since leaving college, I have been in the wholesale coal business
right along, except for six or eight months, when I kept the books
for a New York manufactory's local branch, which I left about a year
and a half ago, when we enlarged by opening a retail yard. There are
no '97 men and very few Princeton men at all in this business, either
buying or selling, in this territory, so that I do not often run across any
of the fellows.
With the exception of a week spent along the Hudson on a wheel,
several years ago, when I was lucky enough to meet a number of the
class, my vacation has taken me every year to Lake Keuka, N. Y.
Townley has missed being there only one summer, and some of the other
fellows have been with us at times.
At. the meetings of the local Alumni, '97 continues to be better repre-
sented than any other class, which is an advantage, as you can get up
a private reunion if things get at all tiresome. I'm thankful that I
have been at all the commencements and two football games since we
43
graduated. It has been a great satisfaction to have a good time with
so many of the fellows, and has been always worth while ; but I hope
some one has written you a full and complete history of the Triennial
for the special benefit of those who were unable to come. That reunion
certainly deserves the prize, as the attendance records will show, and
as all who were there will bear witness, and the promoters should re-
ceive the blessings of their thankful classmates.
The next big event, I suppose, will be 1902, and we ought to prepare
for that, while some of the more foresighted, with whom we are ac-
quainted, will be laying plans for the time when '97 will be represented
among the Alumni Trustees.
Yours truly.
Earl W. Cox.
Harrisburg, Pa., March 29, '01.
ROY GALBRAITH COX.
My Dear Patriarch: — In response to the promptings of a few atoms
of conscience which occasionally rub together, especially when urged
by the excitment incident to the deciphering of your periodic hiero-
glyphics, which have been conveying increasingly violent denuncia-
tions, threats and imprecations, my pen is at last at your disposal.
After enjoying an ornamental summer, subsequent to graduation,
my idleness was suddenly terminated by the opportunity to secure a
bottom position with the Harrisburg Trust Company; and on Septem-
ber 8th, 1897, I started to settle down. The work was agreeable, and
by sticking to it I have been moderately successful. Indeed, fortune
has so favored me that matrimony became possible and attractive. My
marriage took place November 28, 1900, under the auspices of Hitzrot,
Buck Thompson and Earl.
We do not have many opportunities of meeting with the good old
class, but bring on your fifth annual reunion, and don't judge our class
spirit by our literary disinclination or procrastination.
Yours truly,
Roy G. Cox.
Harrisburg, Pa., March 25, *oi.
Assistant treasurer Harrisburg Trust Co. ; treasurer Eastmere Water
Co. ; secretary Harrisburg Mfg & Boiler Co. ; auditor Harrisburg
Board of Trade ; director Greensburg & Hempfield E. St. Ry. Co. ;
treasurer Spring Lake Poultry Co. ; member of The Country Club of
Harrisburg, Harrisburg Athletic Club.
DAVID MAHON CRAIG.
My Dear Fellozvs :—l would hate to tell just how many times Pop
Keener has written to say that it was "up to me" — it was more than
once however, as he will testify, and not wishing to use up the entire
class fund in postal cards, I have finally decided to dispute his word
no longer.
44
I have been in so many different places since graduation that I can't
quite recall the full list, but if you will consult the map of western
Pennsylvania and eastern Ohio you will find them all, and thereby
save Pop the trouble of getting the record out in two volumes.
I might add that I have been "working on the railroad" ever since
the summer of '97, and to my fellow Big Mackites this tells the whole
story, but as there are a few in the class who missed this superior
training, a few details are necessary. Railroading consists principally
in moving from one small town to another, and when one gets it down
to a science, he makes his moves just before his board bill becomes
due, and thereby is enabled to live on his salary. Now this is strictly
a professional secret, so please don't give it away, but if any of you
fellows aren't making a hit, here's your chance for a home run. Another
fine point about railroading is this private car racket, and there's where
you sing, "Palms of Victory." I used to travel exclusively on mine,
but one of the handles broke and since then I've done most of my
traveling afoot. If William Moore only inhabited these parts, I be-
lieve I could work that car off on him, for it has many fine points.
I am at present busily engaged on a literary production in the nature
of a black-list. It is compiled from a strictly personal experience, and
contains the surnames of all the bad hotels in this section, truly a
boon for all travelers. It will cost only four bones per, so send along
your checks, but don't stick the stamps on as I may want to use them.
Yours sincerely,
David M. Craig.
Bedford, Ohio, May 2, '01.
FRANK GRENVILLE CURTIS.
Dear Pop: — Your last urgent appeal received, and as I am the prin-
cipal factor in m.aintaining a domestic establishment I don't think I
shall wait for your C. O. D. telegrams with which you threaten me.
To tell you the truth, I do feel a little ashamed for not responding be-
fore, but procrastination is the source of all evil, and I really think
those who have failed to answer have not done it out of lack of spirit
for our great and glorious class, but rather because they keep putting
it off until the morrow, which in some cases, never comes. Then you
must remember that it is a very difficult thing to write a history of
your own life, especially an uneventful and prosaic one, which is the
lot of most of us. Autobiographies are always difficult even among
those who know how to write and really have something to say. You
speak of me as a literary man, and that in my case lack of ability can-
not be pleaded as an excuse, but let me assure you that any such
ambition is of the past, for I have taken upon myself the responsibilities
of life and am fighting earnestly in the struggle for existence, and
hoping fondly to survive among the fittest. Circumstances make our
futures, and although upon graduation we may tell our class secretary
what we are going to be, let me ask you. Pop, how many of us have
carried out our intentions. I should really like to know.
45
Now, as to what I have done since leaving the dear old place. After
spending a restful summer at the sea-shore, I packed up my things
and sailed abroad instead of taking a P. G. course as originally in-
tended. I visited England, France, Austria and Italy, Turkey, Greece,
Palestine, Syria and Egypt. I mention Egj^pt last because in impor-
tance to me it was anything but least. Not because I viewed the mum-
mied remains of old Rameses the Great with so much interest, nor
because I looked upon the towering columns of Karnak with such
veneration (they are even more imposing than those of Whig or Clio
Hall, which as a loyal Princetonian you may dispute). No, it was not
mummies or ruins which interested me particularly, but a little lady
who since then has become my wife. And right here I want to avow
before all my classmates that the song I used to sing in college was not
for the purpose of advertising any of my future family-in-law. I
knew none of them then, and to my knowledge there is no Dr. Herrick
in the family.
Upon returning from abroad my literary plans were abandoned.
War had been declared, and I enlisted in the 171st N. Y., but saw no
active service. The following December (1898) I was married. Harold
Chatfield was best man, Ed. Davis and Dean Elliott ushers. Two
months afterwards I went into the brokerage business in the firm of
Nicoll, Herrick and Berg, of which I am now cashier. But, perhaps,
the greatest happiness of all. Pop, came to me last January, when my
little girl was born; the dearest baby that ever lived (at least we think
so). She will be a true daughter of Princeton, and in time to come
will wave the orange and the black at all our victories, for the time is
coming when everything will be a victory for Princeton, and all her
rivals will be rivals no longer. Old Nassau will rule supreme, the one
great American university, and the class of ninety-seven will shine
forth the brightest star in our great constellation of success.
Most sincerely yours,
Frank G. Curtis.
New York City, N. Y., May 3, 1901.
GERALD SCHOOLEY CURTIS.
Curtis is the guest who "has married a wife and cannot come !" The
cares of pater-familias have put letter-writing entirely beyond his
powers. He is engaged in the wood-fire-proofing business, and solicits
the patronage of all members of the class who are anxious to have
permanent abodes in the hereafter. The secretary humbly bespeaks for
this advertisement the serious and immediate attention of those who
have thus far failed to respond to his mild requests.
GEORGE KNOWLES CROZER, JR.
Dear Pop: — During the first two months I have been sick with the
grippe, and away from home repeatedly, otherwise your frequent re-
46
quests and appeals for a letter would certainly have been answered
long ere it were necessary for them to have become faithfully frequent
and justly vehement. So here goes!
I have done nothing to startle myself or anyone else, by its inherent
merit, in the last four years, except one thing, and of that I am duly
proud — the fact that I returned to college and secured my "Dip."
My one regret, however, is that it was not with the "great and glorious."
The fall following graduation I began to study law in Philadelphia,
but six months' time proved to me that it was a mistake to continue,
with a view to practice — that it was not in my line. From then on
till last fall found me busy rolling up considerable mileage, and keeping
my address on the move. The latter wandered at odd and irregular
intervals to points intermediate betv/een San Francisco and Cairo !
Early last October I went into business in Philadelphia, and am hard
at it as one of the "day workers."
V/ell, I feel sure that when many of us gather for our fifth reunion
in '02, we will have the proud but usual satisfaction of eclipsing the
records of all previous classes in numbers and enthusiasm and in every-
thing else. I guess by this time I have said about enough, if not more.
Sincerely yours,
George K. Crozer, Jr.
Philadelphia, Pa., April 10, 1901.
EDWARD PARSON DAVIS.
Davis evidently desires to be forgotten, for he consistently refrains
from responding to the overtures of the secretary. It cannot be learned
whether he is still only a cornet or has developed into a full orchestra.
It is rumored he is practising law, and that instead of emitting notes
he is now protesting them.
WILLIAM POTTER DAVIS, JR.
My Dear Pop: — Your letters and postals are always welcome, and
when they come five in succession — well, I must come out of my shell
and respond. Don't think for an instant that my silence has been
caused by lack of interest in the class or lack of appreciation of the
labor involved in the compilation of such an addition to American
literature as the '97 Triennial Record, but attribute it to a natural re-
luctance to send a letter saturated, like this, with so many references
to the ego. A man who writes an autobiography must have done
something worthy of mention or he is classed among the conceited
and foolish. Here goes for the second class !
Wars have troubled me not. I did not leave my Dolly Gray "to
go to fight the foe." My paths have been paths of peace, except, per-
haps, occasionally there was a little internal dissension just for sweet
variety's sake. Nor have I been in the "wild and woolly" hunting for
47
or being hunted by big game. My locus in quo for the last four years
has been the Quaker City, and my object has been, for the most part
hunting after big game of the biped variety. I am a lawyer, and —
but to retrospect.
After leaving the dearest place on earth, I matriculated at the Uni-
versity of Pennsylvania Law School. How did I like it? How did
Adam enjoy himself after he left Eden? His only trouble was that
he had been in paradise and he must have realized in the words of
Josh Billings, "it is only a step from hoe caik to plum puddin', but to
go back again is a mile and a half by the shortest road." Well, after
spending three years hunting antiquated cases, I was at last permitted
by a kind Providence and lenient faculty to bag one LL. B. A more
appropriate degree would have been M. T. Then I hung out my shingle
with the firm I had been with since leaving Princeton. My office is
in the Betz Building, and the latch string is always out to any '97
man. If any inducements are necessary I might suggest that the Raths-
keller is in the same building.
With best wishes to each and all until we meet in June, I am,
Yours truly,
William Potter Davis, Jr.
Philadelphia, Pa., April 18, '01.
MURRAY GREENE DAY.
My Dear Classmates: — Pop has been sending me letters in bunches,
asking for my class letter, so in self-defense and for the fear that he
will begin to telegraph me, C. O. D., I take my pen in hand, etc., etc.
I left college the 19th of June, '97, and I had a picture of myself
having a nice loaf all summer and then going to work in the fall, but
the Powers that Be decided otherwise, and I was told to go to Kansas
City, and thither I went and stayed until after Christmas in '98. In
Kansas City I had a sub-laboratory for the Paving Company, and
when I was sent East in the winter of '98, I went to the head laboratory
in Long Island City. I was at the head laboratory until the 28th of
April, when I was ordered to St. Louis to the sub-laboratory there.
I got there the first of May, and stayed there until the first part of
July, when I was ordered back to the Kansas City sub-laboratory. I
stayed in Kansas City, this time, until the winter of '99, when I went
East on my own account. Shortly after arriving East I was sent to
Santiago de Cuba, where the company had large contracts for paving,
as well as a water and sewer system.
Cuba was interesting until yellow fever broke out in June, and then
it was somewhat trying. In the meantime I had a trip on business to
Kingston, Jamaica, which was very pleasant, as it broke the monotony
of a routine life in Santigao.
In the early part of July I began to feel miserable and thought, of
course, I had yellow fever, but when I went to the doctor he assured
me that I was so full of malaria that there wasn't any room for yellow
48
Jack. This was, of course, comforting, but I think I would rather
have "yellow," as with it, it is all over one way or the other, in a few
days, and with malaria you are over it when you are dead — which is
also comforting.
By the latter part of July I was so sick that I was sent to the
States. Before going, we were fumigated and put in quarantine for
five days. They quarantined us by putting us on an old ship out in
the harbor for five of the longest days that I have ever spent or ever
hope to. Every morning that ship would be pointing at the yellow fever
hospital. The doctor came aboard each day and looked us over for
symptoms of yellow, but none appeared, and on the 22nd of July the
Ward Liner came in and we were taken over and put out for the States
shortly after. The trip up was uneventful. We got to New York on
the 29th of July, and I was more dead than alive, but glad to get back.
I got a month's vacation, and went to Maine, where I recovered very
rapidly, and in September I had a position offered me at Highland
Park, a suburb of Detroit. I stayed there until the 17th of December,
when the work that I had charge of being finished, I went back to
New York and got back my position with the company, and was
ordered to sail on the 20th of that month for the City of Mexico, via
Vera Cruz. Arrived there, after stopping at Progresso and Campeche,
on the first of January, 1900.
I was sent to Mexico for six weeks, but got back from there the
first of July, which is a little more than six weeks, but that seems to
be my luck. After getting back from Mexico I took a month's vacation,
as I had a touch of malaria. After my vacation I went to Chicago and
was there from August till October, when I was ordered to Kansas City,
Kansas, to take charge of a plant. This work lasted until December
of 1900. Since then I have had a trip, lasting some six weeks, to Dallas,
Texas, but most of the time have had little or nothing to do. In a few
days I expect to go to Chicago and make my headquarters there, and
travel from there. I hope, if any of the fellows come through, they will
let me know.
Besides these long trips I have had several short ones. One in '98
was especially interesting, in the Indian Territory. My tale is told.
I admit this is somewhat long-winded, but hope you fellows will for-
give me.
Good luck to you all wherever you are, and believe me,
Faithfully yours,
Murray G. Day.
Kansas City, Mo., April 25, '01.
WALTER MOORE DEAR.
My Dear Pop: — After carefully perusing the sample letters you have
kindly provided as a model which you expect me to strive to equal, it
is with much trepidation that your humble servant narrates the fol-
lowing account of his uneventful life since leaving the elms of Old
49
Nassau. As this letter must be somewhat personal in its character,
due to the writer being the subject of it, I trust that any charge of
egotism may be withheld; for I class myself with those unassuming
members of '97, who have neither achieved greatness nor had it thrust
upon them, and who, having no one to sing their praises, nor any his-
torian to write their obituary for the emulation of future generations,
must narrate their own exploits.
All histories having a beginning, and brevity, besides being the
soul of wit, will also add in this case to the interest of this letter for
you, unfortunate devil, who have to wade through it, I will come to
the point and launch forth upon the dark paths of the last three years.
Safely tucking my prized sheepskin in my trunk in June of '97,
I hied myself to the seashore to seek the solution of the question,
"What are the wild waves saying?" Nothing of importance occurred
which would be worth narrating, though I can assure you it was the
most momentous two months of my life, as I illustrated loafing as a
fine art and bade good-bye to what is probably my last vacation of any
extent.
Thanks to Squirt Daniels, who had imbued me with the taste for
finance by kindly requesting that I pass two examinations in "Poly-
Con," my steps turned towards Wall Street, as I strove merrily to
whistle, "Two more months and I'll be looking for a job." Fortune
favored me after a short search, and I landed in a broker's office, where
my certificate as a member of '97, readily secured me positions of
head of the copying department, messenger service, deposit and trans-
fer clerk and general sweep ; the salary was sufficient to provide course
dinners at Dennett's, where I've seen other rich (?) '97 men. It is
a fact that I saw Lugs Mason eating crullers at that hostelry, so that
you can perceive Lugs was making money from the start. Two months
of brokerage found me with such an accumulation of worldly funds,
that I decided to retire, and accordingly gave up my job and took a
•week's vacation, during which time Mac. Wilson assisted me in en-
joying myself.
With the advent of 1898, I turned my hand to the reportorial end
of newspaper work. I will slide over the first six months of my
introduction to what was really WORK, as it was the most trying
and discouraging period of my struggle to earn a livelihood. Then, my
work lightened as I became familiar with my task, and murders, sui-
cides, railroad slaughters, divorces and all those other essentials which
make up life on this mundane sphere and furnish an excuse for the
power of the press, followed in rapid succession. After a year and a
quarter of reporting on my hom.e paper, I then essayed advertisement
soliciting. After three months' trial, appreciating the fact that my
forte, if I had any, was not in this direction, I returned to reporting,
and had the decidedly easy work of writing a daily letter from the
seashore resorts along the Jersey coast. While it was not strictly a
vacation, yet I must confess that it was hard to distinguish between
actual work and time for pleasure. In the fall of that year I entered
SO
the business department of the newspaper, and still occupy the same
position, with more or less responsibility, and with fair prospects.
Like others, I have had my disappointments and occasional successes,
but on the whole, life has dealt well with me. I have made two un-
eventful trips, one to New Haven in '97, and the other to Princeton
last November. Certain memories connected with these travels bring
sad recollection, so we will hurriedly pass over the subject. I might
state that I visited the two previously mentioned places in '98 and '99,
of which Poe's run and six-to-nothing at Princeton, and Poe's kick
and eleven-to-ten at New Haven, are my most distinct recollections.
I have also attended our three reunions at Princeton. I have had no
books published, though I believe some of my writing has appeared in
print; still it was hard to distinguish the same after the blue pencil
had waded through it. My dabbling in politics has been of a limited
nature. I attempted to buck the organization on the election for county
committeemen, and I am now among the "has-beens." Since then I
have retired from the political arena.
I have joined the First Signal Corps, N. G. N. J., which has been
organized recently, with headquarters in Jersey City. It is a mounted
organization and our mounted drills are very similar to a wild west
show.
This, my dear respected father-of-his-class, is the history of an un-
eventful life; that is, as much as can be told. Did I think it wise to
reveal all, you, no doubt, would admit that I have not "told the half,"
but we will let well enough alone, so — 'nough said.
Yours for '97,
Walter M. Dear.
Jersey City, N. J., Dec. 5, '00.
JOHN BARCLAY DE COURSEY.
Shortly after graduation Jack went into the paper manufacturing
business, but was obliged to give it up on account of continued ill-
health, which reached such an acute stage recently that a serious oper-
ation was necessary. He is now at Atlantic City recovering from the
effects of the operation, which was entirely successful.
JOHN DE GRAY.
De Gray is not a rolling stone. He has been employed with the
Pencoyd Iron Works, Philadelphia, Pa., ever since graduation. He has
evidently absorbed some of the exclusive tendencies of the Quaker
City, and refuses to recognize any person living north of the Schuylkill.
This explains his evident disinclination to hold further correspondence
wth the m.eek and lowly secretary.
SI
EVARISTO VICENTE DE MONTALVO.
Cuba freed, the Count has returned to his ancestral estates, and is
now basking in the sunshine of the tropics, surrounded by a score of
obsequious attendants, who fan his fevered brow and press to his
parched lips costly goblets wherein is the clink o£ ice and the sparkle
of nectar. The enervating influences of such a life have destroyed
all his epistolary energy. Countless appeals have failed to rouse him
from his lethargy, and the secretary regrets that a pen once so prolific of
graphic description should now rest idle. His mission in life accom-
plished, his sword has been beaten into a plow-share and his spear into
a sugar-hook. The raising of cane (sic) once more engrosses his entire
attention.
CHESTER BURGER DERR.
Chet's modesty prevents him from writing any but personal letters
to the secretary. He is too modest by far. The various notes received
give ample proof that he is hiding his light under a bushel, and that the
class has reason to regret his refusal to contribute to the Record. He
is in the general insurance business in Wilkes-Barre, Pa., and for a
small remuneration will insure you against anything from mosquitoes
to matrimony.
RALPH DERR.
My Dear "Pop": — After five or six notices and as many unsuccessful
attempts to get together enough words and sentences to make up a
letter, a guilty conscience tells me "something must be did," — and now
or never. To some it may not be hard, but yours most truly finds it
about the toughest proposition he has yet tackled to get out a letter
of this kind, and all other attempts have been failures, complete and
absolute, but, perhaps, telling about them in this one will help to fill
it out.
After the Triennial of the "Great and Glorious" last June the writer
returned to the "City of Brotherly Love" (after overstaying his time
leave not more than three to four days), and took up again the
arduous labor of "pen pushing" and earning a living. (Between you
and me, "Pop," about enough for carfare six days in the week and to-
bacco for a consoling smoke after dinner those six days.) You per-
haps know or have heard how refreshing and invigorating is the atmos-
phere about the Quaker's home on a warm summer's day, and so it
was last June or July, but almost too much so for this party, so
about the middle of July he "pulled his freight" to Atlantic City, for
a rest after the gay and exciting time Philadelphia afforded ; stayed there
a week, returned to the daily Turkish bath, and again about the first of
August pulled out, in answer to a very urgent call from the moun-
tains, which proved one of the finest, if not the finest, summer vacation
ever experienced. Since then, about October tenth, he has been
52
making a living in the draughting rooms of the New York Ship-
building Company, along with another former member of the "Great
and Glorious," endeavoring, a great deal of the time, to get a letter
off to yourself, with results as above.
News of members of the class is scarce in this section, so much so
that there is none to send— Camden being too far from the centers of
civilization— but you have probably heard from, or of, everyone long
ere this. I am, "Pop,"
Yours most sincerely,
Ralph Derr.
Camden, N. J., March ii, 1901.
WALTER MEREDITH DICKINSON.
My Dear Pop:— You must pardon me for not writing you before,
and you must lay part of it to negligence and part to having a great
deal to do. Things have been going along in the usual humdrum way,
as Trenton is not very lively at the best since the "Princetonese" don't
have as free a foot in the town, owing to the coppers shutting down
on them instanter and bottling up their overflowing spirits.
The most momentous thing that has happened in my family during
the last year was the arrival, on January 24th, this year, of Miss Rox-
alene Howell Dickinson, and now you are not the only "Pop" in this
part of the country. My only regret is that she cannot go to Princeton
and get a true collegiate education, but maybe I will be able to instill
into her some of the "spirit." However, she can go to Princeton very
often and breathe the fine malt air for which the town is noted.
As you can see by the letterhead, I am still in the real estate and
insurance business, and am holding my own in "nailing an easy thing"
now and then. I wish the easy ones would only come a little oftener.
I wish you the greatest success in getting up the book, and trust that
I am better late than never.
Your sincere friend,
W. M. Dickinson.
Trenton, N. J., Dec. 15, '01.
JOHN TRUMBLE DOWNING.
My Dear "Pop":~l suppose about this time you are receiving
numerous epistles which begin— "pardon me for being so dilatory in re-
gard to your communication of the 17th ult, but"— excuses ad nauseam.
And I must beg to "join the push." My only plea is, frequent calls
and interruptions by Mr. Procrastination, the lad, you know who stole
Papa Time's watch and lawn mower some time since.
As soon as I could shake the thief and break away from his baneful
influence I did so, and now it gives me unalloyed pleasure to comply
with your request and tell you where I've been "at" and what and
whom I've been doing for the past three years. It is briefly told:
53
Immediately after graduation I went West, where I spent the sum-
mer traveling for a New York house, through Western Missouri, part
of Oklahoma and the Territory, Eastern Kansas, Nebraska and West-
ern Iowa.
In the fall I matriculated in the National School of Osteopathy in
Kansas City, Mo., where I edited the "Osteopathic Magazine" the last
two years, and graduated there last spring — June, 1900. In July I at-
tended the National Convention of Osteopathic physicians at Chatta-
nooga, Tenn. ; then came East, and have been practicing here ever
since. Am enjoying good practice, good health, and good things gen-
erally, and am now permanently located at above address.
Yours forever,
J. T. Downing.
•^ScRA'NTON, Pa., Dec. 6, 1900.
WILLIAM WILSON DRAKE.
Dear Pop: — Your telegram has been forwarded to me and I am
forced by your persistence to make some kind of an answer, although
I am quite convinced it will be of interest to no one.
I am a farmer now; in fact, just getting settled, which means lots
to do, but not exactly the things that make interesting reading. I
hope this will count for a letter and so answer your purpose.
Yours truly,
W. Wilson Drake.
Warrenton, Va., May 12, 1901.
CHARLES JOHNSON DUNLAP.
Dear Pop: — Really when I sent back the statement that I was not
holding public office, had not written for the public press, was not
married, had no children, had only taught school, studied law a little
and practiced it less, this should have been proof enough that nothing
more could, or at least ought, to be said about an uninteresting career.
What more can you want? Details of the teaching? There is more
than one of the boys who have seen and heard enough of that in their
own experience. For me it lasted for three years in a suburb of New
York City, and there was proper gratitude when the season was over.
Of the law study? It was carried on while teaching, for a short period
in a law office and for a year and a half at the New York Law School.
There are two or three things left to learn on the subject. Still in
July of 1900, the State of New York admitted me to prey upon the
public, and I have devoted myself to that occupation ever since. I
secured desk room in a busy office in New Rochelle and have been
practicing for myself, with all the varied experience of a country of-
fice, from chasing bad debts and debtors, and running down titles, to
the practice in the court room. Very truly,
Charles J. Dunlap.
New Rochelle, N. Y., Feb. 27, 1901.
54
CHARLES FRANCIS DUNN.
Dear Pop: — Those irreproachable, anonymous letters which you send
as a guide on the road to elegant epistolary composition, I have un-
fortunately lost and remember nothing about them, save that your taste
in selection was unquestionable. So I'll have to give you the skeleton
outline, the plain crude facts of my career since leaving college, with-
out an attempt at elaboration.
For the first fifteen months after graduation I presided over the in-
tellectual destinies of two youths, one of whom found love with its
natural sequence more to be desired than erudition, while the other is
now a member of the class of '03.
In October of '98 I came to New York to look for a place, which
I found after a month or so, with Harper & Bros. On the failure of
this house a year later another opening offered, with Charles Scrib-
ler's Sons, where I am at present, in the advertising end of the busi-
ness. It's a business which suits me to perfection, but whether I suit
it so well is still an open question. I am neither married nor engaged,
ind the only mark of distinction I have received is a call by the City
cf Greater New York to ascertain my qualifications as a juror. I
cidn't qualify (Sweet are the uses of adversity), but the honor con-
ferred I may presume is none the less.
Charles F. Dunn.
New York City, N. Y., April 17, 1901.
RICHARD EVERETT DWIGHT.
Dear Pop: — I can't stand your last heart-breaking appeal, and will
hive to try and write you one even though it is the worst letter in the
bunch. I had always intended to write one, but, as you know, I was
slways about the last man in the class to start anything, especially at
examination time. I didn't want to startle you by trying to make it
appear that I had changed my habits any since leaving college. Be-
sides I have had hard luck with my epistolary efforts. I intended to
write you on the first call for information, but when I thought it over,
knowing all the calls upon your strength which this job involves, it
occurred to me that it would be too much of a shock and surprise
to you in your delicate (?) state of health to have one whom you
would put down for at least two or three extra urgent appeals, show
up on the very first call, so I wrote you, or thought I did, somewhere
between the sixth and twelfth request. Unfortunately, however, as I
was in court at the time, I wrote you on the same blank on which I
spread out my magnificent ( ?) record, and was very much pained to
receive, not long afterwards, a communication from you saying tnat
you would like to have me hurry up with my letter, and then when
I wrote you I had written it on my information blank, you added
insult to injury by writing me "you had noticed some writing on the
back, but couldn't read it, and would I please write something that
was legible." That is really the reason I am so terribly late. How-
55
ever, it is just as well for me to write now as earlier, for I had noth-
ing to tell then and have nothing now. I have been "goating" it ever
since I was admitted to the bar, two years ago, in the above-named
office, and doing as little business as possible on account of my deli-
cate ( ?) health. As I am writing this letter to try and help you break
the record if possible and have really nothing to say, I will stop wasting
paper. Very truly yours,
Dick Dwight.
New York City, N. Y., April 21, 1901.
EDWARD GRAHAM ELLIOTT. j
My Dear "Pop":- — Had the past three years and five months of my
life been filled with such stirring and thrilling events as military serv-|
ice in Cuba or the Philippines, or such a momentous occasion as taking
unto myself a helpmeet and better half, as has been the case with so
many of my distinguished classmates, I think it would be a very easj
matter to "spin a yarn" that would be interesting. I could write of tht
hum of the bullets and the terror they brought; of the hair-breadtl
escapes from shot and shell ; of hand-to-hand conflicts with the foe;
or perhaps of capture and imprisonment with its untold hardships; cr
again of the wounds received, my suffering and agony till help and
rescue came in the person of a beautiful "angel of mercy," who tel-
derly cared for me and watched over me as I hovered, weeks long,
'twixt life and death — at last restored to health as much through h;r
untiring watchfulness as through any surgeon's skill. Let us not thirk
that "the Romance ends right there," rather that she consented to le
the "angel" of my life. Oh, those happy days, when Young Love first
awakes ! What rapture ! What bliss ! What volumes could be writ-
ten about them, that would fill with envy the breasts of all those les5
fortunate fellows !
But alas (?)! I cannot; such has not been my fortune; but I try
to console myself with the thought that perhaps some of those fellows
who can, will "spin the yarn" for the rest of us poor unfortunates.
Since we stood together for the last time, under the classic elms of
Old Nassau — it seems to me I have heard that expression before, but
no matter — since we stood, I say, and witnessed the destruction of East
College and the terror of certain instructors who dwelt therein, the
story of my life has been simple, and I might almost say uneventful.
In the late summer or early autumn of '97 I was installed in the
chair of Latin Language and Literature in Bolton College, Bolton,
Shelby County, Tenn. — these last details of location are for the bene-
fit of those benighted ones who have not the pleasure of a previous
acquaintance with the above-named institution; further I would add
that it lies within hearing distance of the steamboat whistles on the
Mississippi, in the land of cotton and malaria, to say nothing of yellow
fever which raged fiercely that fall. For a month or more I suffered
from the slight inconveniences occasioned by a "shotgun" quarantine,
56
which were more mental than physical. Also I had the pleasure of
boarding in the same house with a young lady who had "spells" — fel-
lows, I warn you, beware of a woman who has "spells."
In June, '98, I received the news that I could be an instructor in
Latin in the John C. Green School of Science for the year 'gS-'gp, but
could I afford to give up a professorship for an instructorship? Ah,
yes, that longing for the old place was so strong that I was willing to
make the sacrifice. You see, I had been compelled to miss the First Re-
union, and I didn't propose to miss another. What mattered the result
anyway? I had been a professor once, if I should never be again.
The summer of '98 I spent in the mountains of East Tennessee, try-
ing to rid myself of the malaria of West Tennessee, and at home pre-
paring for my new duties. I must confess I entered upon them with
fear and trembling. I remembered so well our own conduct as Fresh-
men, and I didn't feel a bit older in '98 than in '93, and feared that my
youthful appearance would serve as an incentive for similar outbreaks.
But the Fates were with me, and I passed through the ordeal without
having to flee for my life or summon a procter to my assistance.
Can it be that the "good old days" of thoughtless "horse-play" are
passing away and a riper maturity coming in its place? If so, I be-
lieve the future mental growth of our beloved Princeton is assured,
without in the slightest particular lessening that manly spirit of which
we boast, but rather increasing it.
For two years I enjoyed the pleasures and experienced the trials of
an instructor; happy years for the most part, and made so largely by
the number of '97 fellows who lived in Princeton during that time. I
can never forget, Pop, those "Sunday-night-seminars" in your room
that first year; the initiation into the freedom of Edwards, so cordially
and frequently bestowed upon Henry Russell ; the debates on every
conceivable subject, sensible and nonsensical, indulged in by us all;
the honor of champions easily resting with Arthur Leonard and Henry.
The first year, too, witnessed the wonder of the age, that brought joy
to Old Nassau, "Poe's run" — "Poe's kick" a year later it was not my
good fortune to see.
The year '99-1900 was not so happy for me, being darkened by sor-
rowful circumstances, with which I will not trouble you; rather let me
pass hastily over it to that glorious event that came at its close, our
Triennial, the finest that any class has ever had. Those were happy
days, gladdened by the presence of many; tinged with sadness by the
absence of a few.
Shortly after commencement it was my privilege to lay aside my
duties as instructor in Latin and become again a student, pleasant
as had been my experience as an instructor in Latin, and agreeable
to my tastes as was the study of the classics. I believe my present
studies, viz.. Jurisprudence, Politics, etc., will be even more in accord-
ance with my inclinations.
On August 16 I sailed from New York for Bremen. George Howe
sailed at the same time, and we were together till October 15; first in
57
Wernigerode, in the Harz Mountains, and then in Halle, where I left
him, just entering upon a three years' course of study in the classics,
while I came here. It is my present intention to remain here the first
semester, then go to Heidelberg for a semester, then back to Berlin for
two semesters, and then America and Princeton ; but too late, I fear,
for the "Quinquennial."
There are three other Princeton men here — MacElroy, '96, Phil Rob-
inson, '98 and Kellogg, '99, but alas ! no '97 man. The university stu-
dents number nearly ten thousand ; there are men and women of almost
ever age and nationality, but predominating, of course, is the German
student, very many of whom bear upon their faces the scars of the
"field of honor." Although forbidden by law, the practice of duelling
continues even in Berlin, and every day one sees men with their heads
bandaged up to such an extent that one might easily suppose them to
have been in a railroad wreck.
For my part, I can see no beauty in this, but I have heard German
ladies say that they thought it was charming. As yet it has not been
my good fortune to witness a duel or take part in a "kneipe."
Here, Pop, you have my autobiography — save that I have not
enumerated the "positions of trust" I've held, nor the "honors" that
have been bestowed upon me. I can't recall any just now and should
any be suddenly thrust upon me I will cable you at once. To be sure,
I am an M. A. Princeton, 1900, but I am not married, have no chil-
dren and am not even engaged. I do not think I am in danger for
two years at least, as I do not find the German maidens all-entrancing.
So my story ends and with a heartfelt "God bless you" and "auf
Wiedersehen," believe me, As ever most sincerely yours,
Edward G. Elliott.
Behren Strasse 57 III, Berlin, Germany, Nov. 16, 1901.
JOHN DEAN ELLIOTT.
My Dear Pop: — Here goes to save you from the bother of sending
me the second notice, third notice, etc. Since leaving college my life
has not been very eventful. I started working, but not finding it very
much to my taste, I entered medical college in the fall of '97, and have
been at that ever since. By good luck and much work I am now on
the homestretch and expect to become a doctor next spring. I am
neither engaged nor married and am in no imminent danger from those
sources. I was at our Triennial and had a grand time and I have
been very fortunate in getting to the Burg on most of the large occa-
sions and thus keeping in touch with many of the boys. I have been
to all the big football games and many of the baseball games, and have
enjoyed most of them, although occasionallly they didn't go our way.
I guess this is about all I know to tell you, so will close.
Sincerely yours,
Dean Elliott.
Philadelphia, Pa., Dec. 3, 1900.
S8
WALTER SHIPMAN ELY.
Ely engaged in various enterprises after leaving college, and even
tackled Alaska. He received such a frost that he returned to Nev^r York
City, and went into the stove business with the purpose of thawing out.
He soon became such a warm article that his services were demanded
by the Metropolitan Street Railway Company, and he is now in the
employ of that soulless corporation. His connection with the rapid
transit system does not seem to have facilitated his appreciation of the
obligation to his classmates. May it come with years.
FRANK WARNER EMMONS.
Emmons believes in the annexation of Cuba politically and in-
dividually, as indicated by his marriage to one of the belles of Ha-
vana, where he now is serving the Government in the Quartermaster's
Department.
SEWARD ERDMAN.
Dear Pop: — I hasten to reply to your third communication; for,
knowing that you would keep on sending me notices, I have waited,
in order to answer them all at once.
Since leaving Princeton my career has been as follows:
My first year was spent in private tutoring in Asheville, N. C.
In October, 1898, I entered the College of Physicians and Surgeons
of New York City, and am now in my third year, with one more to go.
My summers have found me a quasi private tutor to three small
boys, with whom I spent this last summer in Paris and Scotland.
The splendid work of the '97 men who are in the fourth year medical
work acts as a spur to others of us who are plodding along.
The mystery of prescription writing is overcome, for after my pig-
Latin drugs, shall read "To be taken with one grain of salt."
Very sincerely,
Seward Erdman.
New York City, N. Y., Feb. 26, 1901.
FRANK EVANS.
Dear Pop: — Your frantic appeals for a letter have finally aroused
me to this effort; but you must know that in a mining camp, where
one works thirteen hours a day, sleeps eight and a half, and has the
rest of the day to one's self, that remaining half-hour is very precious.
However, under skies that rival sunny Italy's, with pure air to breathe
and pure water to drink, and the beauty of snow-clad peaks to the
east and to the west, ever in sight, life is very pleasant. Our camp
is about two-thirds Mexican, one-third American. The latter — those
who succeed in holding their positions — are a splendid lot.
I think often of the fellows in my class, but I fear that it will not
59
be soon that I may see any of them. May '97's sons ever be brave,
true and good, is my final wish. Yours,
Frank Evans.
MoRENci^ Ariz., April 27, 1901.
THOMAS ST. CLAIR EVANS.
Dear Classmate: — I cannot but feel that because of my narrowness
very few of you will care to know what has become of me, for I fear
that I did not show myself friendly while in college.
Following graduation, I became general secretary of the Young
Men's Christian Associaton of the University of Pennsylvania, in
which position I remained two years as one of our class missionaries
to the heathen.
The following year found me back at Princeton as general secretary
of the "Philadelphia Society," to succeed our own "Lucius," who did
so much for the highest good of Princeton during his two years in
this position. This year finds me back at "Dear (?) Old Penn" as so-
called "permanent secretary" of a new and unique organization, having
entire charge of the religious interests of the university.
Oh, yes, I was married July 12, 1900, at East Northfield, Mass.. to
Miss Edith Muir Pierson, and we have our happy little home down
among the descendents of the "Schuylkill Rangers," in the so-called
slums of Philadelphia. We wish that some of you might don your
working clothes some dark night, sneak out the back gate of your
"four-hundred" mansion, and drop in on us at the "Settlement," where
the sights and noises would far excel the Freshman-Sophomore game.
With most grateful remembrance of you all. Affectionately,
Tom Evans.
Philadelphia, Pa., March 13, 1901.
WILLIAM FULLER EVANS.
Dear Old Pop: — I am much in fear that a recital of my doings since
I was graduated would be neither interesting nor instructive. Of course
there are many things of which I could tell you that would make
mighty entertaining reading, but unfortunately those things are not
made of the stuff that bears the light of public opinion. And, anyway,
half the zest in them would be gone in the telling! Secrecy, you
■know, like inhibition, adds relish. It may be selfish, this, but I fancy all
the other fellows feel as I do. All that one can tell is what one has
done in the world, and that may be told easily and cheerfully. But
even so, if it were not that I deem it my duty to '97 to do my little
share toward making this Record another "record-breaker" by adding
my "little page or two," I think I should cry quits right here. But
as we learned in those wonderful days when we had ethics that "ought-
ness" should be our strongest incentive toward doing the right, I bow
to this sublime force, acknowledge the sovereignty of class .spirit, take
60
off my coat, and proceed to set down here, for the edification of my
classmates, my sins of commission and omission; and since the sins of
omission seem to be far the larger category, I'll arrange them first.
Up to date I have not been caught in the dreadful snare of matri-
mony. (I put this first because it appears to be the commonest and
the greatest of "all the ills that flesh is heir to.") As a natural con-
sequence my children are yet unnamed.
I have not held any position of profit, honor or trust, for I hold
that school-teaching comes under none of these heads.
I have not obtained a degree from any institution, unless it be the
honorary degree of A. D. F. from the University of the World, the
Flesh and the Devil.
I have entered into no business, except the degenerate one of getting
all the fun out of life that I can.
I have no profession, except that of teaching young, innocent minds
that s=:^ g (2t — i), and how beatific it is to know that Rameses II.
wore a wig.
I have taken no part in the various fracases that have of late dis-
turbed our national equilibrium, unless one mentions the rather mod-
est role of urging pupils, if they ever by any mischance become a
nation's hero, not to allow themselves to be pushed off their pedestals
by old maids bent on osculation, nor by women desirous of basking in
the glory of the brazen halo that surmounts our Presidential man-
sion.
I have written no books. At least I have published none. My cor-
respondents sometimes complain at being forced to wade through four-
cent volumes.
I have taken no journeys abroad, nor have I strayed farther from
the home-fold than the distance to be covered in a long day's journey.
And "thereby hangs a tale 1" But I shan't tell it to you, for I should
be afraid of hearing you say, "Skip the bad words, old man !" Ah,
Pop, how that phrase brings back many a good day when you played
ball with the fellows in front of Old Nassau's steps, before we began
our evening singing.
My, my! but it makes a fellow long for the times "o' auld lang syne"
to bring out of Memory's depths the days and nights of. college life!
Never again shall any of us be so free, so untrammeled, so irresponsi-
ble as we were in those blessed, glorious years when '97 owned Prince-
ton. Didn't '97 simply cover herself with all sorts of glory? Well,
Well! And isn't she still keeping it up? Well, yes! It is so good to
hear one's classmates grappling hard with the old sullen, selfish world,
and taking falls out of it, time without number. Some of us have dis-
covered that more things than "laissez faire" are needful, if we are to
amount to anything, but I think — and, am glad to think — that deuced
few of us are discouraged; and that we are no more afraid of work
than we were of catching pensums!
But I digress. You didn't ask for sentimentalizing. Let us get
back to my little day's work. As you have seen, my life since June,
61
*97. has been largely one of negation; a sort of "supernaturalistic uni-
formitarianism," to quote our verbose Prexy. Little have I done, and
this is it: For a year after graduation I was lost to the world in the
loneliness of my native hamlet. Then a hole opened in the Greenville
High School and I just naturally fell into it. I couldn't climb out for
two years. And then, while I was in New York last June, just before
going down to Princeton for our Triennial, I met there Mr. Gregory,
the principal of the Long Branch schools, who, in his greatness of
heart, looked upon me, was moved with compassion, and offered me a
place in his domain. I took a rvmning jump! So here I am teaching
science and history in the Chattle High School, and here I shall re-
main until June, 1901, unless the Board of Education sooner recognizes
the glov/ of intellect and ambition in me, and presses me to move to
higher spheres.
— Et hie omnia.
I am always most heartily, yours and '97's,
WitLiAM Fuller Evans.
Long Branch, N. J., Dec. 18, 1900.
GRANT HENRY FAIRBANKS.
The excitement of getting married completely bowled over Fair-
banks, but with the assistance of some classmates he was safely
launched upon the uncertain sea of matrimony. After leaving college
he v,ent into the wheel business, but the business went to his head.
He slipped a cog and landed in a paper-mill. He evidently possesses
such a reverence for the virgin surface of his shining sheets that he
cannot endure to sully their spotlessness with any of the lines and
marks which would convey to the secretary a graphic idea of his career.
It is learned from other sources that he is fulsome, fearless and
fio'.irishing.
GEORGE OSTRUM FORBES.
Dear "Pop": — Your bright, newsy letter, headed "Third Request,"
has finally aroused me from the trance brought on by over-indulgence
in the good things contained in the sample letters enclosed in your pre-
vo'^s epistles to me. I would that I could tell you of some wonderful
discovery, or a great success in politics, or of my experience while
lying in a fever-striken camp in far-off Manilla, but I cannot. I can
only say with the immortal Croker, "I done my duty where I seen it,"
or rather I tried to.
After spending four years at old Princeton, and finding there nothing
more to learn (?), I started out to explain to the wide world a few
th-ngs hitherto unknown to it. It is unnecessary to add that the fall
was great, and the realization of lack of practical experience was pain-
ivX. I began my "Business Career" at "three-fifteen" a week, learning
62
the iron trade as it pertains to that especial branch called "malleable
cast iron." I find there are a few things in the business which cannot
be learned in the laboratory.
Some two years ago I joined the ranks of the benedicts (I notice
several other members of the "Great and Glorious" have been equally
fortunate), and have been blessed with a son, whom I hope will be duly
enrolled at Princeton in the class of 1924, or thereabouts.
You see, my story is soon told and in few words. If it will add
any to the success of the Record (which I very much doubt), you are
at liberty to use it.
Hoping my tardiness has not drained too much of your abundant
stock of good nature, and promising never again to pass by a first
request, I am.
Very sincerely yours,
Geo. O. Forbes.
RocKFORD, III., Feb. 8, '01.
JOHN MUSSER FRAME.
My Dear Classmates: — "Happy is the nation whose annals are brief."
If the same test can be applied to individuals then my post-college life
must, up to the present time, have been perforce, a happy existence.
To those of you who have been engaged in business or in professional
labors, the simple narrative of my deeds and misdeeds will seem very
commonplace. The three years after graduation were spent in the
Harvard Law School — there is the whole story in a nutshell. The
course in a law school is best described by the word "thorough." A
premium is placed not so much on brilliancy as on steadiness. Some
one. Justice Gray, I believe, once said, "The Law School is the only
place I know where working is considered fashionable." At any rate
I soon learned that one cannot live always in Arden Forest, and for the
first time I settled down to hard work.
The monotony of student life was relieved by occasional pilgrimages
to the literary shrines of New England — the Longfellow House, Con-
cord, Salem, Brook Farm — and by numerous excursions to the thousand
and one historic spots in and around Boston. Of course I treated my-
self to a trip to the Maine woods, where there is no end of sport, and,
better still, spent several weeks sailing along the coast of Maine.
In the fishing villages we encountered not a few amusing "originals,"
who would prove to be, for those of you who contemplate literary pro-
duction, very fine stuffing for novels.
My absence from class reunions can be accounted for by the fact
that the law examinations at Harvard and Commencement at Princeton
are contemporaneous. In the winter of '98 I spent a few days in
Princeton, but I was oppressed with the conviction that I was a "has
been," and I was so lonely without the old faces that I felt like a fish
out of water.
^3
My summers have been spent in offices, and by that means I have
acquired considerate experience on the practical side of law. Last
November, the day after the Presidential election, when everybody was
sleepy and stupid, I wriggled through a ten horn oral exam., and was
admitted to the Bar. Now I pay rent and smoke and wonder how and
why it is that nobody needs a lawyer.
Hoping to see as many of you as possible at Princeton next June,
I remain, Yours fraternally,
Jno. M. Frame.
Reading, Pa., Feb. 26, '01.
HARVEY THOMPSON FRAZER.
My Dear Pop: — I am sorry you weren't pleased with the letter I
wrote you, and that it took three postal cards and a personal letter from
you to make me write again, and I hope I am not the last one to get
my letter in. I am still studying medicine at the P. & S., New York
City, and hope to graduate in June.
Yours sincerely,
T. Frazer.
New York City, N. Y., Feb. 13, '01.
CHARLES LAMB FURBAY.
My Dear Pop: — Your persistent energy deserves its reward. Do
not understand me, however, to attempt the inference that this letter,
or, in fact, any letter which I might write, would constitute a re-
ward for your unexcelled and unparalleled efforts in behalf of the
glory of '97. There is very little to be said concerning myself — per-
haps nothing that would be of interest to my classmates. I have
spent the time, since leaving college, profitably and otherwise, but I
have always been proud that I am a Princeton man and particularly
proud of being a member of the great and glorious class of '97.
Fraternally,
Chas. L. Furbay.
Pomeroy, Ohio, May 11, 1901.
PERCY LEE GALLAGHER.
Gallagher, after leaving college, undertook a mercantile life, but
found it little to his taste. He then entered the legal profession, and
is now an ornament to the New Jersey Bar. The writing of briefs
evidently accounts for the secretary's failure to secure from him more
than a bare answer to his questions.
64
MV STURDY LITTLE MOUNT.
ROBERT GARRETT.
My Dear Classmates: — "Pop" is a distressingly busy "Master" at
Lawrenceville, and now that he has favored us with that character-
istically enthusiastic appeal, and deluged the laggards with profane
postals, — in behalf of ourselves, as usual, — I want to uphold my share
of the class burden by sending a letter that will not magnetize his
falue pencil. Its length is unfortunate, but I trust you will bear with
me.
Before turning to the story of my few adventures in the busy world,
I am going to take some liberties with you and grasp this unique
opportunity to press upon your attention in a few very brief words
some class matters, — of importance both to us and to our beloved Alma
Mater.
There are various cardinal points towards which our attention should
be constantly turned, and in which that zealous love for Princeton
and all her concerns, for which we as a class have been, and desire
to be noted, should find adequate outlet. Much success has been
achieved by many of you, whether in professional study, as teachers,
or in business ; but how can we measure that success, — what can we
65
lay our hands upon that will indicate how much has been accom-
plished? A few, — and they are notable because of their isolation, —
have shown what they are capable of doing, and what their oppor-
tunities have meant to them; but the output from our factory has not
been at all commensurate with the amount of energy expended, — the
finished product has hardly ever been placed upon the open market.
Perhaps you say "give us time so that we may first get our bearings," —
but what of those that have already set the pace? Are they so far
above us in ability and general excellence that we can afford to let
them get such an insurmountable lead over us in the race? I do
not urge that we should have set up, in type, anything that comes
to our heads or hands, but there certainly should be some worthy
results from our specialization and original investigations.
Then again, we are far behindhand in the most important field for
which our education in a measure fits us, — we are taking little or no
part in public life, in active politics. It is a crying shame that the
university men of our country care so little to turn their attention to-
wards the task of bettering the existing conditions about us. Why
is politics, both local and national, in its present state? Why does
corruption run its extravagant course unchecked? Is it not largely
due to the fact that most of the educated men of the country, — those
educated both mentally and morally, those who have been best fitted
to direct public affairs, — have stood aloof and have let the unscrupulous
take over the government and all its concerns? We need honesty,
we need energy, and we need efficiency in politics to-day, and although
we may feel helpless in the rushing tide if we strike out alone, yet it
is plainly our bounden duty to assume the Besponsibilities of citizen-
ship, to throw in our mite towards the improvement of our surround-
ings, and, in so doing, to fulfill our share in regaining that eminent
position so illustriously occupied by the Princetonians of a century and
more ago. We cannot all at once step into high posts of honor and
gain a leadership that only years of training will fit one for, but there
are many lesser offices that we might fill. We must turn towards these,
and no matter how unimportant they may seem, they should be re-
garded as public trusts, and used for the improvement of present con-
ditions. You see, this is my hobby now, and I must "crack it up"
whenever there is the shadow of an excuse ! So I hope many of you
will soon become aldermen, councilmen, ward-heelers, police commis-
sioners, "any old thing," so long as you choose the best elements and
eschew the evil ways of our Machiavellian bosses. I for one am
heading towards some such post, though whether or not my cranium
will drive itself into a mud wall in the shape of a Gorman or a Quay,
remains to be seen, — I'll let you know later, — or my executor will !
There are one or two other little things, — excuse the mark, "Pop" ! —
of which I must speak before closing this sermon, and first of all let
me ask why do all you blamed bashful youths continue to withhold
from our wearied secretary those newspaper clippings that he asks
for so often? Don't inquire too closely into my own conduct on this
66
point, but, seriously, let's make some good New Century resolutions,
and deluge "Pop" and his album with endless tales of '97's doings.
How can he keep us informed of each other's successes unless we
furnish data, — something about "the other fellow," at least? Haven't
you noticed the unfortunate paucity of news about the class in the
Alumni Weekly? We are each and all to blame for that. So do let
your good resolutions go so far that you will constantly furnish the
much desired information about yourself and your adventures, — and,
incidentally, don't forget that bully paper that is such a comfort to
the lovelorn Princetonian !
Then, too, there is that struggling memorial fund, — have you pon-
dered often and long upon those suggestions concerning the object
for which we are to spend the slowly accumulating thousands of
dollars? That Biological Laboratory of the worthy class of 'yy, —
you note the significantly close resemblarice of those numerals to our
own, don't you? — that little, useful brick building is glued fast in my
mind as the foundation on which we should build, — for remember,
we cannot model our gift after any other, we must rise head and
shoulders above them all and establish something, — though it need
not be necessarily of brick and mortar, — that will endure at least
through the coming millennium.
Now that I have preached long and loud I will bore you with as
rapid as possible an account of my successive wanderings over the face
of the earth.
During the early part of the summer after our dismal parting, I
had a good, quiet time at Quebec and afterwards at Pointe-a-pic, on
Murray Bay of the St. Lawrence. The natives of the locality are
not remarkable beings to look upon, but they have managed during the
few generations of their family history to retain names such as Black-
burn and Mackintosh, and to practice a sort of modified sword dance,
while they speak a patois of French, and know little or no English or
Gaelic.
When I left this interesting spot, Ted McAlpin took me in at his
summer home in the Adirondacks, and was generous and considerate
enough to allow me to bag the only deer we killed during a hunting
excursion of forty-eight hours in which we saw eighteen of them.
In the early autumn I came back once more to the borderland of
the South, intending to take a law course at the University of Mary-
land and dabble a little in business. So far as the law is concerned
I went off on a wild "tack," landing in the middle of the Johns Hop-
kins historical department, beside a fifteen-foot table, bound for
Ph.D.-dom — it is hard to say how I got there, but there I was and
there I stuck. Business has succeeded in keeping just within sight,
but just out of reach.
In December, I was mustered into a new cavalry organization. Troop
"A," of the Maryland National Guard, — foreseeing, as you will note,
the blowing up of the "Maine" and the outbreak of the war. But
somehow my foresight did not go far enough to enable me to choose
67
the organization that the President desired from our State, so after
a few days in camp, in April, we were sent back to our homes labelled
"not wanted," and had to content ourselves with looking from our
cupboard-shelf at the troops going south to the great camps, or to
Cuba and Porto Rico. General Lee threw me down, too, when a staff
position was sought, and the nearest I got to campaign scenes was to
visit Newport News when the troops were walking the streets in lovely
pink and blue striped pajamas, or were hurriedly crowding themselves,
a la sardine, into the transports destined for our new island possession
The academic year of '98- '99 was spent grinding slowly at history
and economics at Hopkins, with the monotony occasionally disturbed
by a shy entrance into the gay world, where entanglements were
carefully avoided, simply because "Pop" has too much difficulty now
keeping up with the many alliances effected with the other sex, and
I do not want to add to hi^ troubles.
In the spring and summer of '99, I was making strenuous, Roosevelt-
ian efforts in preparation for an extended journey into the Near East,
on an expedition organized for the purpose of pursuing archaeological
research in a part of Syria that, curiously enough, has been very little
visited by scientific explorers or even by mere "globe trotters." We
sailed in August for England and, arriving in London, set to work
gathering together the many things, necessary and unnecessary, that
we then considered should make up an explorer's kit. I drove down
to Fenchurch Street Station one night and welcomed "Luke" Miller
and "Puss" Balken to the sad, smoky metropolis, — for they, also, had
taken upon themselves the feverish desire to conquer worlds unknown
and were heading for the same land in which the great American
Expedition of 1899 was to work.
After a few more day of hurry, we joined forces in Paris, and went
to Marseilles to take ship for Beiriit. After ten days, filled with the
rare delight of a contintious living panorama in which we caught
gliiUpses of Corsica, Sardinia, Italy, Sicily, Greece, the Dardanelles.
Constantinople, Asia Minor and Cyprus, we landed in Syria.
Then, — the custom-house. Our twenty-eight pieces of baggage, large
and small, were hauled and carried in by the jabbering native boatmen,
and were strewn about in all directions to await the pleasure of the
small official with red "tarbush," who was urged to allow us to hurry
through, since we were harmless American travelers, bent upon no
revolutionary mission against the suzerainty of his Imperial Majesty
the Sultan. All went on well and speedily, until the last of the many
trunks was pounced upon. Here a halt was called, while the great
black colossus was opened for inspection, — blank astonishment and
consternation, — impossible ! — four dangerous rifles ! — contraband !
"These cannot pass, — bring back all the twenty-seven pieces for minute
examination." Chagrined, but powerless, we stood aside, mutely
watching the official go carefully over everything, extracting here a
revolver, there a box of cartridges, — finally allowing us to go to our
hotel with only one revolver to protect us on the long journey east-
68
ward into the desert ; and this was ours only because it was overlooked
in the search. A good part of the time left for final preparation in
Beirut was spent in devising ways and means to release the captured
arms, and in making repeated visits to the Custom-House, personally,
or through our backers furnished by the American and German Con-
sulates, to ask the officials to mitigate their sentence of confiscation.
Success was finally attained for the larger arms by persistent urging
that they were not dangerous weapons, to be used against the Empire,
—they were too small to be employed in military operations,— therefore
they must be merely sporting guns. And "armes de chasse," they
were called, although at home we style them "Winchester carbines."
The revolvers were secured liy a common oriental method of pro-
A PRIVATE HOUSE, Nqrth SYRIA, EARLY CHRISTIAN ERA.
cedure,— our representatives were allowed, in their discretion, to give
to the chief of the Beirut Customs one of our 32-calibre Colts, on
the surrender of the others and the cartridges,— for was not this a
most modern type of American fire-arm, never seen in the Orient,
that would be a nice little toy for our wise Turk?
Two weeks after our arrival, we were again on the way, this time
going northward by way of Larnaka, in Cyprus, and Mersina,— the
Port of Tarsus,— to Alexandretta, our point of departure for the in-
terior of Syria. Nine hours riding on little horses of Arab stock
brought us to Antioch, the scene of our first encampment, happy that
69
we were at last well on our way, but rejoicing rather more that there
was something to repose our weary bodies upon, other than those
miserable English saddles, brought for our especial benefit.
The desolation of ancient Antioch is profound. Little remains to
indicate that it was once a center of civilization, hardly less superb
and powerful than Rome herself. The modern town is squalid and
miserable to the western mind, and we were not sorry to strike on to-
wards the east, after a stay of ample length to allow us to learn of
the almost total absence of valuable historical remains.
"the workers" in "the east."
Beyond the river Orontes we came into the district that proved to
contain a marvellous group of ruined towns, standing, as it were,
high and dry, and founded on a rock, — a sight that almost took our
breath away when we had had time to realize their number, their
splendid state of preservation and the fact that the very names of
the majority of them are unknown to archaeology and perhaps to his-
tory. It is true that some of them were visited, forty years ago, by
the Comte de Vogue, and were described by him a few years later,
70
and it is true that he told of other ruined villages in the neighborhood
which he was not able to visit; again, it is true that a few philologists
have ventured into the region, and have copied many inscriptions found
on the houses and on tombs. But strangely enough, no one has had
the energy or the foresight to go over the country thoroughly, in order
to collect the data that stands so readily at hand, to bring it back,
and to publish it for the benefit of American and European students.
It remained for the chief of our party, — Butler, '92, one of our lec-
turers in the art room of Old North, — to conceive the plan of visiting
the country of our research and to carry it to a successful conclusion,
— a result that I trust you will perceive for yourselves when the pro-
posed publication is brought to light.
After a few weeks of steady work in this district, and when we
seemed to have accomplished about all there was to do, we turned our
faces again eastward, and soon pitched camp in the great desert city
of Aleppo, — the city that grew and thrived by acting the part of "middle-
man" in the caravan transportation system of the desert, until the
Suez Canal came and changed the route followed by the merchandise
of India and Persia to Europe. But we were not mere tourists hunt
ing for the amusements and distractions of a city, so our party was
soon away, rapidly marching towards the mighty river of antiquity,
the Euphrates, which until now seemed more like a tradition, a myth,
than a fact, a natural phenomenon. On the third day we came to th.
edge of the river valley, and — oh! the wonder of it! — there lay th'
broad white ribbon winding southward until lost in the hazy distance,
and here, across the broad valley, rose the hills of Mesopotamia, the
cradle of civilization.
It was only a rapid survey that we took, and then, turning north-
ward, our path brought us down the slopes into the valley, along which
we • wandered slowly towards the site of Karkhemish, the northern
capital of the Hittites. Little now remains above ground of the
original city, or of the Alexandrine and Roman ones built upon its
ruins, but probably a thorough attempt at excavation would net the
energetic explorer very rich results. Indeed, the little that has already
been done there has proved more than well worth while, for most
of the Hittite sculptures now in the British Museum were brought
from this site some twenty years ago, and there are a few more in-
teresting specimens still standing in the rough trenches cut by the
English excavators.
We then made a hurried visit to the interesting town of Biredjik,
towards the north, — the town in which the Armenian massacres of
five years ago originated, and one that saw a host of that unfortunate
people ruthlessly slaughtered by the fanatical Mohammedans, under
the eyes of the abetting Turkish officials, until not one was left alive
who openly professed Christianity. The Moslems did not look upon
us with genial smiles as we strolled through their bazaars, but we
were in the care of a uniformed policeman, so they thought it best
not to indicate their ill-will more strongly than by surly scowls.
71
Our tour of the place over, we recrossed the Euphrates, and, after
a night in the tents, pitched just beside the river, we turned our
faces westward and hurried to headquarters as well as was possible
with the slow caravan, the unfavorable elements and the increasing
mud along the way. Passing through Aleppo again, and southward
through Hama, Horns and Tripoli, taking refuge at times in the houses
of village Shekhs, we landed in Beirijt shortly before Christmas.
The party then broke up, to spend the two months of the rainy
season according to the individual inclination of each of its members.
I rushed away to join "Puss" Balken in Cairo, where he had already
learned all there is to know, old and new. of one of the most fascinat-
THE QUEEN OF THE MULES, — READY FOR THE MARCH.
ing cities of the world. He was familiar with every nook and corner
of the place, and found me an amenable pupil and a ready attendant
during all his vagaries. We finally decided to tear ourselves away from
the merry streets of Cairo, and venture up the Nile to take a glimpse
of the majestic temples and the tombs of the Pharaohs. The beauties
on the tourist steamer, however, pleased "Puss" beyond measure, and
the wonderful relics of antiquity were unfortunately of minor im-
portance !
It was not long before we had reached the first cataract, had inspected
the colossal dam across the Nile, that is to multiply the agricultural
wealth of Egypt so marvellously, had returned to Cairo and had taken
ship for Italy. The four days out on the Mediterranean wearied
"Puss" sadly, but finally we came into the Bay of Naples and landed
safely, only a little the worse for wear. Next came Pompeii, with
a somewhat closer view of smoking Vesuvius, and at last, Rome.
My three weeks in the Eternal City were very quickly ended, and
with our chief explorer, who had come by a more direct route to
Italy, I left "Puss" and the gaieties of the American colony of Rome,
and in less than no time we had passed through Brindisi, Patras,
Athens and Smyrna, and found ourselves again in Beirut. In ten
short days more we were in the saddle, climbing laboriously up and
over the Lebanons in the direction of Damascus. A light rain dampened
A MONUMENTAL TOMB, NORTH SYRIA, EARLY CHRISTIAN ERA.
somewhat our enthusiasm over the delight of renewing the varied ex-
periences of camp life, but, well bundled up in the Arab cloaks that
served as protection against both cold and wet, we dismounted at the
first camping place contentedly tired, and ready for the three long
months of toilsome travel then before us.
Turning northward in Coelesyria, between the Lebanons and the
Anti-Lebanons, we arrived soon at Ba'albek, to view those marvellous
ruins whose foundations date back to early Phoenician times. The vast
dimensions of the blocks of limestone in the lower courses of the outer
7^
wall make one feel that the science of engineering of to-day is far
behind that of the ancients in handling large masses. It is conceded
by all, I believe, that no machine can be constructed on known mechan-
ical principles which could lift one of those Cyclopean hewn stones.
The largest one in the wall measures sixty-five feet in length, and it
is about thirteen feet square on the end.
On and on the caravan travelled, always in a northerly direction,
until, at the end of five weeks we approached the region of our
autumn's efforts. A thorough study of its southern extremity was
accomplished, and, before striking out for the desert once more, we
paid a hurried visit to the northern border of our working field, touch-
ing up, as it were, some of the earlier investigations. Here our party
was augmented by the arrival from Aleppo of Dr. George E. Post,
"Wolf" Post's father, and a distinguished member of the faculty o
the Syrian Protestant College, — in fact a colleague of "Luke" Miller
and Fred. Jessup.
Leaving the old haunts, a few hours' ride brought the party a second
time to a marvellous stretch of Roman road that stands almost in its
original perfection, defying all time, and yet used daily by the solitary
wayfarer or by long strings of camels passing to and fro. It must have
been a masterpiece of its period, and its preservation is such that it
is probably a finer example of Roman road building than exists in any
part of Europe.
In the second journey eastward we did not go quite as far as the
Eirphrates, but turned south while still a good day's ride away, after
having visited a few remarkable ruined sites of towns dating from the
early Christian centuries.
We now headed straight as possible for Palmyra, the great Tadmor
in the wilderness, built by King Solomon. But the unexpected diffi-
culties of the way made our goal seem a long distance off. At Isriyeh,
one of the places selected for a night's repose, we threw ourselves into
the arms of a portion of the great confederation of tribes called th'
Anazeh Bedawin, a people that does not own allegiance to Ottoman
rule, and that hovers on the border of Mohammedan civilization in
order to claim as its just due a part of the spring crop raised by the
settled inhabitants of the edge of the desert. It so happened, however,
that only a few months earlier, it had been somewhat subdued by an
attack of a body of Turkish mounted muleteers, and had been forced
to pay tribute to the government. When the Anazeh at Isriyeh saw
that we were accompanied by four of these muleteer soldiers, and that
the party was fairly well armed, they evidently thought that discretion
was the better part of valor, and contented themselves with sinister
scowls and threats to some of our men, that this was a rare oppor-
tunity for them to gather in great plunder. Putting on an extra guard
in the camp, we retired to our beds, and — never spent a quieter night.
We were amused next morning to learn that the sub-chief of the
Bedawin announced that no water should be given to our animals
from the common well unless the dragoman, — whom he considered
74
the head of the party,-would partake of his hospitality, in the shape
of the usual cup of coffee.
We mounted our horses and rode away from this supposedly danger-
ous spot at an early hour, and began the last stage of the journey to
far-off Palmyra, over an almost pathless, hilly region, hardly known
even to the camel-drivers who were acting the part of guides. During
a long stretch of two and a half days, we did not lay eyes upon a
human bemg,— nor even an animal or other living creature, save a few
lizards and some small birds. On and on we trudged, hour after hour
COMMANDANT OF OUR BODY-GUARD.
m a most monotonous, snail-like manner, and as evening of the first
day approached, some anxiety was shown in regard to the absence
of water. We had brought some skins full for the animals, but it
was a mere nothing for our seventy beasts of burden, not counting the
fifteen camels that served as feed and water carriers. And what about
the thirty-five men? There was a little water for the use of the
kitchen m the two small barrels brought for the purpose, and we "out-
landers" had enough to drink,— but what of the Arabs of the party?
"To-morrow, to-morrow," said the guides, "there is water only a little
way off, just over there." We had settled down for the night, making
the best of things, when an exasperating thunder-shower came up,-
think of it, off in the desert, the second of May, rain !— who ever
imagined such a thing? But the worst of it was that we were only
on the edge of the downpour, and besides, we had little or nothing to
75
catch the rain in. No help for it! — so to bed. At half past three
the next morning we were hurried out of a deep sleep, and were soon
on the march again. One horse had died during the night, though not
because of the lack of water; and another was evidently suffering from
tetanus, traceable to the cruelty and ignorance of the native who had him
in charge. All our troubles seemed to come at one time, but suddenly,
while on the march, anxiety was turned into joy at the discovery of
a large pool of rain water in the bed of a dried up stream. The storm
had indeed stood us in good stead, especially in that its circumscribed
area had included this rare spot, which was capable of holding the
water for .some little time. If it had not been for this "find," after
three or four hours or so in the saddle, there is no telling what mig
have come of the heavily laden animals, as the long-sought-for well
was only rediscovered after some five hours more of steady progress.
The next afternoon we came to the glorious remains of ancient
Palmyra, — the beautiful temples and the great colonnade, now of an
^Pi
W^^^^^^^^ '■^'- '
W^Lmif^/.:.-A.
OUR C.\MP .\T P.\LMYR.\.
ivory and gold color, built by Queen Zenobia and her Roman con-
querors. Ba'albek and Palmyra together are two of the most awe-
inspiring remains of antiquity to be seen to-day. They rival the
Parthenon in sumptuous splendor, though not in architectural accuracy
of detail, and they are more magnificent than the temples of Egypt,
though not so colossal. Before we had had time to see the full extent
of the ruins, we felt it necessary to hurry westward, and a few
days more brought the caravan to a village called Dumer, a five hours'
ride east of Damascus. Here Dr. Post and I left the camp, he to take
up his duties at the College in Beirut, I to leave for home and our
triennial reunion. The other members of the party went southward
into the country called the Hauran, for three more weeks of archaeo-
logical research.
Thus endeth a most ideal journey, one of the sort that, in spite
of necessary difficulties and ordinary obstacles, is of inestimable value
76
to the individual who is fortunate enough to experience it. The main
evil evolved from it is that somehow there is created a restless desire
to try one's fortune a second time, and to accomplish more of the
work that has, through many causes, been left for our generation to
do. Speaking from the standpoint of history, an untold number of
priceless monuments are scattered throughout Syria, Mesopotamia and
the neighboring countries, — buried for the most part, it is true, but still
obtainable if energetically sought, — and it only remains for those of
our time to throw themselves into the work with the proper zeal,
in order that the world may be vastly enriched by material that lies
uselessly hidden away in the wastes of semi-civilized lands. Much
has been done and more is now being done, but probably a vast dea;
more still will be accomplisaed during this century.
Since leaving Syria and since our reunion, I have had only the
ordinary experiences of a latter-day individual. I went over to Paris
for the second revival of the Olympic Games, but did little or nothing
creditable in my several efforts. Princeton won a few points, but
we did not have the sinecure that was evidently ours in Athens in
'96. Nevertheless, together with several other institutions, I think we
were victorious on the Sunday question, and I for one am very glad
we were represented in this second series of events held under the
misnomer of "Olympic" Games.
After a quiet summer in Europe, I came home to take up again my
studies at Hopkins, and the various tasks of an ordinary American
citizen, — including the casting of a second ballot against Bryanism.
The doctorate is still a long way off, but I somehow have a vague hope
of landing the prize on a red-letter day of the distant future. At
any rate :
" All things declare
Struggle hath deeper peace than sleep can bring."
And so I struggle on.
A hearty grip of the hand to you all, and a joyful "God-speed."
Faithfully yours,
Robert Garrett.
Baltimore, Md., April 24, '01.
GEORGE JARVIS GEER, JR.
Dear Pop: — Since leaving college my career has been one of few
events, and of little interest to anyone. As I have, in previous letters,
told you, I started to work for my "daily bread" as a day laborer in
the blast furnaces and steel mills at McKeesport, near Pittsburg, on
the same day that McKinley started on his "job" in the White House,
March 4th, 1897, only I worked during the night instead of the day.
After such an auspicious beginning, I continued in the same business
for two years, learning and working at all the different "jobs" in a
Bessemer steel mill.
77
I did not get married there, nor have I since, notwithstanding the
fact that one of my fellow-workmen offered "to make me acquainted"
with some of his "lady friends," with matrimonial intent, but as a day
laborer I withstood the temptation. Since leaving the mill I have been
in a banker and broker's ofhce in Pittsburg. Since last December (1900)
I have done nothing, owing to a little difficulty I have had with our
common enemy, typhoid fever, but am about recovered now.
In your letter to me you seemed concerned as to my behavior or
doings. I can only say that my life so far has been very quiet, and, in
fact, always has been, since the time "way back in Freshman Year,"
when Teddy McAlpin used his good inHuence over me. Poor old
Teddy; I'm afraid he has "gone to the dogs," for I saw him in the
Waldorf "smoking a cigarette" a short time ago.
Howard Brokaw and Ario Pardee have, at intervals, been seen
around, and in Pittsburg, which seems to have some peculiar attrac-
tion for them.
Fearing that Charlie Speer has been delinquent in writing you, I
will tell you that he is now driving a coach and four, making weekly
trips (in his mind) down the "Shenandoah valley." If ever in that
vicinity, don't fail to look him up and make a trip with him.
Vic. King has been studying medicine for the past four years, and
is now a full-fledged M. D. He would have been down to the triennial
last year had he not stumbled on a patient with a case of small pox.
He was, consequently, locked up and quarantined for three weeks at
that time.
I shall see you all at Princeton in June, and trusting now that you
are well and prosperous, I remain always yours, in dear old '97 — the
class of good times, good spirits and good fellowship.
Geo. Jarvis Geer, Jr.
Pittsburg, Pa., April 17, '01.
CHARLES ALBERT GEORGE.
My Dear Classmates : — I have always felt I was only half graduated,
because, as I remained in Princeton after you all left, I did not receive
the finishing touches of the "car window."
As soon as it was all over, I went into camp in Old North, and
started to scratch "bones" for Professor Scott — and incidentally to
study the osteology of antiquity. A big bone-hunting trip was pro-
posed, and in January, 1898, I composed an expedition to the West.
(The "bones" are still to be found.) But I did get some ranch life,
and the experience started in a quite conventional way. The best
hearted fellows that can be found, teaching me to ride, put me astride
a mild pony that could not be clubbed into a trot, going away from the
ranch, but which lost no time getting back when her head was turned
toward the ranch. I hung on to the "horn," but not tight enough,
for when the pony stopped at the gate of the corral, I didn't. I kept
on — over it — and refused to be comforted. One thing I learned on
that ranch, that is common to all ranches, the owner delights to have
78
a tenderfoot around, for the regular hands always strive to do so much
more than the "greeny" that the result is very gratifying to the owner.
Long, lonely days of riding in the blinding, burning sun, watching
cattle in the herding season (over thirty miles is often ridden in one
day, turning back groups of "strayers" from the herd, and all the time
in plain sight of the starting point), haying later on occasionally, or
hauling trip to "town" (forty miles each way behind walking teams!),
a few weeks handling hay in a seventy-mile wind (the wind blows only
one direction in Nebraska — in your face), lots of snow and fifteen
degrees below zero, with all the while a horizon of low sand dunes and
no trees, created a longing for the old campus. So, after ten months'
absence the "bone" expedition landed back in the "Old Burg," and once
more took possession of Old North. The finances of the "bone" de-
partment were low, so I fooled one of the professors into believing
I was cut out for a literary career, and he kindly invested his confidence
and influence, with the result that I've been "hanging around" the
library ever since.
At Commencement of '99, the University was, as usual, big-hearted,
and presented me with an A. M. Putting up a bluff of hard work for
another year made me desire to try a new camp, so after the Triennial
I persuaded a loyal Princeton girl, with a Princetonian ancestry, to
leave New York and go into partnership with me; so, on August 9,
1900, articles were signed, the old camp deserted, and a new one set
up in sight of the big elms, where we shall be glad to welcome any of
the "Faithful" when they visit Alma Mater.
Yours in '97,
C. A. George.
Princeton, N. J., Jan. 23, '01.
SELDEN ELY GILL.
Seldom Sober Gill has failed to respond. The "cannon-orator" is
speechless. The "sounding rafters" no longer reverberate with the
thunder of his stentorian eloquence. Every head is bowed and sad-
ness reigns in every heart. A tragic stillness fills the air heavy with
foreboding. The silence is ominous of impending evil. With "baited"
breath the multitude awaits its leader's words. Wrapped in melancholy
he stands, with chin sunk upon his breast, his brow all furrowed with
untimely care, his hair disheveled and with eyes downcast, his face
distraught, a very picture of despair. Why the silent throng ! Why
the sorrowing chief ! See, in his hand the cause of all his grief — an
empty stein. The keg is dry; the beer is ausgespieldt, and Gill is si-
lent as the tomb
Immediately after leaving college he entered the employ of the
Gill Boiler Company, where his experience with tanks stood him in
good stead. After making for himself an acid-proof, non-corrosible, ab-
sorbent lining, he magnanimously tendered his invaluable services to
Mr. Bell, who manufactures telephones on a small scale, who, know-
ing his proclivity for a rapid life, makes of him daily, a human, dec-
trie shuttle-cock between Trenton and Philadelphia. His rapid oscil-
lations are said to have inspired Tesla with his idea of interplanetary
communication. What next?
What Gill will do
No man can tell.
Let's draw the vail,
— ! M
NELSON WILLIAM GILLESPIE.
Gillespie, after graduation, was associated with the Balcheler Syn-
dicate of New York City — an organization which furnished stories
and patent insides for country newspapers, and supplied desirable ad-
vertisements. A year later the syndicate changed hands and Gillespie
accepted a position with the Cosmopolitan Magazine. He held this
about a year and a half, when he joined the staff of the New York
World in the capacity of a reporter. As to his present whereabouts
the secretary is in complete ignorance, the frequent urgent appeals
failing to elicit even a reply. Dame Rumor has it that he has aban-
doned his journalistic work for a sphere more congenial to his aristo-
cratic proclivities. When last heard of he was "doing" large cities
in company with the English nobility.
WALTER BEATTY GILMORE.
My Dear Keener: — Your latest threat, to bombard me with tele-
grams, C. O. D., has succeeded where your horse postals and numer-
ous other communications failed, and I surrender. Here is your
letter.
After graduation I read law in an office and was admitted to prac-
tice in 1899. Since then my life has been that of a country lawyer,
for this town, although the county seat, has a population of less than
ten thousand. Any classmates who are in the same walk of life,
under similar conditions, will understand the routine of my exist-
ence without further description.
I am still a Republican in politics, but there are no offices of profit
or distinction coming to me on that account, since everybody within
a radius of twenty miles is a Republican.
The Cumberland Valley is the garden spot of Pennsylvania, and
Chambersburg is the Queen City of the Cumberland Valley, but just
a trifle secluded from the rest of the world, it lies fifty-two miles
from Harrisburg and the Pennsylvania Railroad, consequently my
trips have not been numerous. My visits to Princeton, in the capacity
of an alumnus, have been limited to two — a football game each time.
That of Nov. 17th, 1898, was a salubrious occasion, the other was not.
Good football in this neighborhood is confined to Mercersburg
Academy, a few miles south of us, and the Carlisle Indians, a few
miles to the north. My own athletic recreations have been confined
to a good deal of golf and a very little baseball.
80
With one exception there are none of '97 located nearer than Har-
risburg, so I see almost nothing of the rest of the class. I can think
of nothing else that might be of interest at this time. Regretting
the trouble I have given you to secure this, and hoping it may not be
too late to be of service, I am,
Very sincerely,
Walter B. Gilmore,
Chambersburg^ Pa., May 10, 1901.
HENRY JAMES GRAHAM.
My Dear Pop: — As you insist upon having a letter for the Triennial,
let me explain that I have delayed answering your request for one,
because it appeared to me that my life since leaving college, in so far
as it might be of any interest to the members of the class, has been a
blank.
As many members of the class while in college were rather expert
at drawing blanks, I cannot hope to describe mine in a manner suffi-
ciently vivid to suit their tastes, especially as it consists of four years of
examining titles to real estate and two years of settling estates of the
dead. All the members of the class will realize that anything relating
to the latter would appeal only to those of the "Dutch Gregory Type,"
of whom I believe there is but one, and any of those unfortunate indi-
viduals who are Pennsylvania attorneys, I am sure, will certify that I
am doing my classmates a favor when I do not mention the many trials
of the former occupation.
With best wishes to the class, and especially its secretary, I am.
Yours truly,
Harry J. Graham.
Pittsburg, Pa., April 20, '01.
JOHN WILLIAM GRAHAM.
My Dear "Pop": — The postmaster of Denver, here, has requested
me, in very strong language, to write you a letter so as to stop those
scathing postal cards you have been sending me lately, as he said
that he didn't want the morals of the community corrupted. So I guess
that I had better drop you a few lines to preserve the peace of the town.
You have him pretty well frightened, and I imagine he thinks you are
a very fierce sort of customer. I would have written you sooner only
I thought you would receive so many interesting letters that you would
not want to be bored with any from me, as you know I am not much
in the writing line. Living so far West, I did not know but that you
would forget that there ever was such a person in the class of '97,
and that I would escape imobserved, but to my sorrow I see that you
are still as watchful and wide awake as ever. I don't believe they are
working you hard enough at "Lawrence," or else you wouldn't have
any time to think up so much trouble.
Nothing has happened in my brief career since I left college which
is worth writing about, so I scarcely see any use for this letter. I
81
graduated from the New York Law School in '99, along with several
other loafers of '97, and have been practicing law here, in Denver, ever
since, with varying success.
So far I have been able to attend to all my business without any
assistants, but I have no doubt that as soon as the people here realize
that I graduated with the "great and glorious" class, I will be overrun
with work.
I think probably the pleasantest times I have spent since I left Prince-
ton were when I got back to the reunions and saw the old place and
the boys once more. It is a thing which we Westerners appreciate
very much, since we have so few opportunities of returning. I have
been fortunate enough to attend all the reunions so far, and I hope to
be on hand every year for several years to come.
Now that I have told you all about myself I suppose you think it
time for me to close, and I will, although it is a great temptation to
keep on writing to you — you know how hard it is to tear yourself away
from old friends.
Here's good luck to you. Hoping to see all the boys back at our
next reunion, I am,
Very sincerely yours,
John W. Graham, Jr.
Denver, Colo., March 11, '01.
ALBERT BROOKS GRAVER.
My Dear Classmates: — It ought to be a great pleasure to write this
letter, but I am sorry to say I write it with much reluctance. For my
life since graduation has been so uneventful that I know that anything
I shall write in regard to it v/ill prove most uninteresting. Nor have
I the ability to write a humorous letter, and so make it attractive. In
fact my only excuse for the existence of this letter is that I was prac-
tically coerced into writing it bj'' your secretary.
The study of law has occupied my time entirely since leaving Prince-
ton. Entering the Harvard Law School in the fall of 1897, I spent three
most enjoyable j-^ears there. I roomed in a dormitory named Winthrop
Hall, and the life reminded me much of our life at Princeton. The
dormitory was filled with Princeton and Yale graduates, who were
studing law at Harvard, and the boys were always very congenial,
and the life a jolly one.
Graduating from the law school last June, I spent last fall pre-
paring for the bar examinations, which I took in December, at Pitts-
burg, along with three other Princeton '97 men, and we were all
successful.
At present I am at Las Vegas, New Mexico, where I expect to stay
until next September, getting as much enjoyment as possible out of
an outdoor life. In the fall I shall return to Pittsburg, where I
shall hang out my shingle with as much hope and courage as I can
muster. How heartily I wish some of the '97 men were out here, to
82
go with me on some of the trips into the mountains, which I am plan-
ning.
With very best wishes for success to you all, I am.
Sincerely yours,
Albert B. Graver.
Las Vegas, N. M., March 28, '01.
JOHN LEIGH GREEN.
Dear Pop: — I have received two letters from you requesting a letter
from me. I must be very thick, but I cannot imagine what sort of a
letter you want. If it is a history of my life since leaving college, I
am very much afraid you and the rest of the fellows would not con-
sider it worth reading, and it really is not. I have not been to the wars
or done anything great. The only thing of note that has happened
to me is that I have been married, and that fact I believe you and my
friends in the class are aware of.
Beyond that my time has been spent in traveling and working,
about evenly divided. So you see there is nothing of interest I can
give you for the Triennial Record.
Hoping you are in good health, and that you will have better success
with some of the other fellows, I remain.
Yours sincerely,
St. Louis, Mo., Feb. 28, '01. J. S. Green. ,
JULIAN ARTHUR GREGORY.
Dear Pop: — Dispensing with all preliminary remarks, such as assur-
ances of my love and affection, both of which, you know, have long
been yours, I gladly hasten to comply with your last request for a letter,
as compliance in such a case is much more in my power (though not
more to my taste) than in at least one instance that I might mention.
In the fall immediately succeeding my graduation I began to study
law in the New York Law School. After a two years' course I re-
ceived the degree of LL.B., and in June, 1899, was admitted to practice
in New York State. I had, during the summer of 1898, taken a trip
West, among other things spending a few weeks with some sheep
herders in Colorado, not to mention staying a month or so in the towi
of Bryan.
Since October, 1900, have been practising law in the city and am at
present at 155 Broadway. Have not started out for myself, but am
acting as managing clerk.
My say is said. Further particulars may be had from me in person,
now and then at Princeton, but at the Quinquennial the recital will be
colored. May we all be there.
With regards to all the fellows at Lawrenceville, or any others
you may run across, I am,
Most sincerely,
Julian Arthur Gregory.
New York City, N. Y., Nov. 30, 1900.
83
ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER GULICK.
Dear Pop: — After receiving your ultimatum I make this effort to
comply with your request and tell what has happened to me since
graduation. My experience has not been particularly exciting or in-
teresting.
In the fall of '97 I came back to Princeton and spent the year
there tutoring, studying some myself, and doing some research work
for the New Jersey Historical Society. In summer of '98 was at
Long Branch tutoring; when college opened I returned to Princeton
and took a post graduate course in history, also tutored and worked
in the University Library. Received the degree of A.M. in the spring.
No loafing that year!
In the fall of '99 I entered the New York Law School where I have
been ever since, and whence I hope to be graduated and be admitted
to the New York bar this spring.
Sincerely yours,
A. A. GuLicK.
New York City, Feb. 20, '01.
HOWARD LANGLEY GUSS.
The nervous strain incident to the serious undertaking of the en-
trance into the "holy bonds of matrimony" evidently unfitted Guss
for letter-writing. The following information was taken from a
newspaper clipping sent the secretary:
"Rev. Howard Langley Guss, of Mifflinburg, Pa., and Miss Mabel
Collison, of Rantoul, 111., were united in marriage at the bride's home,
on Belle avenue, yesterday (April 18, 1901), at 7 o'clock A. M. A
very impressive ceremony was pronounced by Rev. Andrew C. Lenox,
D. D., professor of biblical theologj'' in the McCormick Theological
Seminary, assisted by Rev. F. A. Hosmer, of Freeport, 111., and Dr.
Thomas J. Wheat, of Rantoul, 111."
Rev. Guss was graduated with the degree of Bachelor of Arts from
Princeton University in 1897. Last year he spent as private tutor in
the home of Charles W. Deering (Deering Harvester Company), and
is now in the junior year of the McCormick Theological Seminary.
On April 24 Mr. and Mrs. Guss sailed for Antwerp, and their itinerary
includes Belgium, England and Scotland. Mr. Guss expects to take a
biblical course of study in the Presbyterian Theological Seminary of
Edinburgh. After completing this course, he will return to this coun-
try to resume his ministerial work in the Presbyterian Church.
ARTHUR HERBERT HAGEMEYER.
Dear Pop: — As I wrote you some time ago I would gladly write a
letter for the book, and especially so, if by doing it I could help to
defeat again our rivals, but really. Pop, my attempt in that line would
be a farce, as I have done nothing but work since last I saw you.
I could more easily tell you about the things I have not done. I
have not been married, the nearest I ever came to getting myself in
84
such trouble was when I helped "one battle Bogue" get tied up. I
have not enlisted and gone to the Philippines; I did not attend the
"White Rats Ball," in fact there are so many things that I have not
done that you would soon tire of hearing about them, so I will go
no further.
Yours very truly,
A. H. Hagemeyer.
New York City, N. Y., April 30, '01.
JOHN PORTER HALL.
Dear Classmates : — I wonder if the rest of you can claim to have
received as much attention from Pop of late as I have. I dare not
tell how many postals, circulars and "Last Appeals" have fallen to
my lot. It is too bad Pop's patience has been so sorely tried, and I
wonder that he has had the courage to wrestle so persistently with
some of the backsliders.
There is really not much to tell of my life since leaving college.
Since graduation I have been engaged in teaching Greek at Macalester
College, in St. Paul, Minn. I am very pleasantly located and enjoy
my work a great deal, but, of course, nothing startling or remark-
able is supposed to interrupt the uneventful current of the pedagogue's
existence.
I am, therefore, unmarried as yet, and the chances lessen as the
months go by.
What a glorious time we had at the Triennial last June ! We fel-
lows out West, who had not been back in the meantime, enjoyed to
the full every moment of our stay. Can we ever forget that Yale
game and its appropriate finish?
But that is all a matter of history now, and, no doubt, a digression
from the main subject of this letter, which is myself, but as this sub-
ject is short on autobiographical material I shall close with a "Long
life to Old Nassau" and a "Three times three for '97."
John P. Hall.
Minneapolis, Minn.^ May 13, 1901.
ROBERT LEE HALLETT.
My Dear Keener: — Am sorry you are having so much trouble in
calling in your letters, but really it is a difficult matter to sit down
and write when you have no personal object at stake. Since last
October I have been sort of a cosmopolitan, no certain dwelling place,
but like many other "dominies" looking for some place to settle down
and take up my chosen work.
Since leaving the Seminary last May, I have seen but few of the
boys ; saw Doggie Trenchard a great deal during the summer. Am
waiting patiently now for something to come my way, and shall feel
more contented when I am once located. Wishing you all success, I am.
Very truly yours,
R. L. Hallett.
MiLFORD, Del., March 8, '01.
85
ALFRED HAMBURGER.
Dear Pop: — Agreeable to your several requests to write you a letter
regarding myself, here goes ! Never was much in the witty line,
so think that a short statement of my life since I was graduated from
college would be more interesting to my classmates than anything else.
After leaving college, instead of spending the summer at the sea-
shore as usual, I had the dignified honor of going to Commercial
School, and upon finishing my course there, in the fall, I entered upon
my commercial career with The Ph. Hamburger Co., Distillers, whose
main office is at Pittsburg, Pa. I have since devoted my time and
attention to the business, having started at the bottom and since
filled every position, including salesman on the road to head office-
man. During that time I have had the customary vacations which
a business man usually takes, and no special incidents have occurred
outside of business that would be of interest to my classmates, except-
ing perhaps the loss of my devoted mother, which loss occurred last
November.
I am happy to state that I am enjoying good health. Am as yet
not married, and there is no telling if I ever will be.
Otherwise there is nothing for me to let you know, and with kindest
regards to you and my classmates, I remain,
Yours very truly,
Alfred Hamburger.
Pittsburg, Pa., March 13, '01.
ALFRED PATTEN HAMILTON.
My Dear Keener: — When your "3d Notice" appeared I had to give
up, and I can only trust that, when this reaches you, it vi'ill find you
fully recovered from the effects of Washington's Birthday, as you
will have need of all your reserve strength when you get through with
this.
I have always wanted to write things and see my work in print,
and now that you have placed temptation before me I simply cannot
resist it. You must take the blame for this upon yourself.
"What have I done since leaving Princeton?" It would not bear
publication, and I am afraid you would return this letter were I to
tell all. I have tried my hand at coal mining, engineering and rail-
road work since I left Princeton, and unluckily managed to accumulate
enough of the filthy lucre to buy a few trees in this wilderness and
go into the lumber business. The Forestry Laws of this state are
not what they should be: — they should prohibit any one from cutting
timber for a period of at least fifty years, how much longer I do not
care, and they should have been in force three years ago. Then I
would have been in some other business than sawing wood. Keener,
always respect the oak. You have no idea how much trouble a few
of them can get you into sometimes.
I made a slight mistake in answering one of the questions in the
blank which you sent and omitted answering another one. I did make
a public address — to a baseball team that I was manager of last summer,
in the midst of a game, that was not intended for the public to hear.
It was very short and very much to the point, and greatly appreciated
by the grand stand. Ad Kelley spent a few weeks in Elkins last
summer and played on the team, while here, and my remarks were
chiefly directed to him. If you see him this spring he can tell you
what they were. They wouldn't look well on paper.
As for ideas for the Triennial Record, I must confess that I was
never fortunate enough to have any about anything and I am afraid
that if you follow any that I might offer the government would have
the book placed in the National Museum. I thought that I had a
few ideas on the football situation last fall — before the Cornell
game — but after giving odds on that game decided I was mistaken.
I only wish I knew of some other '97 fellows near me that I could
inveigle into this letter scheme of yours. Don't fail to put me down
for a copy of the Record. Sincerely,
A. P. Hamilton.
Elkins, W. Va., Feb. 8, 'ci.
JOHN LINTON HARKNESS.
Dear Pop: — I have your last before me now, and I must acknowl-
edge that I have been slow in writing to you ; but even the snail may
get there, so here I am at last.
Since I left old Princeton, I have been always wanting to be back
there, but as that could not be, I have tried to make my life here a
"round of pleasure" by eternally grinding over medical books. In fact
I almost think that Edwards would blush (if it could) with shame and
take a back seat if it could see me noiv. You notice that I emphasize
the word now, since I Icnow it will be hard for you to believe it, but
you see I expect to inflict myself on a long suffering public, though I
doubt if they suffer long v/hen I get hold of any of them (please do
not misconstrue that), so I want an excuse for so doing. Pop, I do not
like that last letter of yours dated Feb. 12, '01, because it looks to me
as though you had departed from the ways of a true philosopher and
had measured out some "good old English," commonly knovv^n in this
now-a-days world of ours as swearing, evidenced especially in the
large black letters which stare me in the face, and I'll bet my last nickel
you jumped all over us Delinquents with both feet (in spirit of course)
including that large part of your anatomy above your hips and below
your head. My life here has always been the same, striving after medi-
cal knowledge during the winter, hospital work part of the summer and
the rest in the mountains, with every once in a while a wild plunge
into the gay world of folly, with its usual result next day — very sleepy
and mayhap a headache. If you repeat that about 1,400 times, you will
Icnow what I have been doing since I left Princeton.
Your sincere friend,
J. L. Harkness.
Philadelphia, Pa., Feb. 15, '01.
87
HENRY ALEXANDER HARRIS.
My dear "Pop" Keener: — Since you have urged me so relentlessly for
this confession, I have finally saved up money enough for paper and
postage, and mustered energy enough to fill my fountain-pen, under
the horrible and night-mare-ing impression, that if I fail to cough-up,
you will go away mad, under the impression that I have fallen below
even the standard of mine ancient enemy ! Heaven forbid it !
In the summer and fall after graduation. I spent most of the timq
in (non salaried) recuperation, doing a little work during September
and October, along the New Jersey coast, just to keep my hand in.
In November, I struck a Civil Service job with the city of New York,
which I held until March, '98, when my mingled joys and sorrows
began. Having taken an exam., some time before, I was appointed to
a position in one of the departments of New York City, at an increase
of salary. When I was about to start in at the new stand, I was asked
by the head of the department, if I knew any "prominent men" in the
City, to whom I could refer. I told him I would try and look some
up, and he said I had better get a letter from some "prominent man."
As I went out looking for "prominent men," and letters, I commenced
to get a hunch on what he was after. Well, I went to see a prominent
Princeton grad of my acquaintance, who assured me he pulled just as
strong an oar with one party as the other, and it was no time before
I had presented my little old letter to one of the "powers" behind the
(Tammany) throne. The outcome of it was, that I went to work in
my position with a merry heart, being a full fledged mem.ber of a
West Side Tammany Club, receiving all invitations to funerals and
card parties, and assurances that my chances for promotion (in Tam-
many, of course) were brighter than the four stars in the southern
cross !
During the spring, I tried to get in the Volunteer Engineers, but
being told that I was a physical wreck, and should never go to a
tropical climate, I got disgusted and went to Mexico in June, resolved
to try on this tropics business. I worked on railroad construction and
location, down there, till Maj% '99, when I got a leave of absence and
came north. The primary reason for this being that our preliminary
line had reached such rough country, in the Sierra Madres, that I,
(not having the wings of a dove nor the feet of a fly) got exceedingly
frigid in my creepers and quit the camp ; later being given a two
months' leave of absence to go north and warm my feet and attend
the second reunion of the one great and only, than whom there is
none such.
During the summer, autumn and winter, '99 and 1900, I worked for
a silver mining company in Mapimi, Mexico. It was a delightful
place, and when we did not have amateur bull-fights on Sundays, we
thought our holiday had been poorly spent, if we did not have at least
two stabbings and a shooting!
In the early spring of 1900, I went south to the Isthmus of Tehaun-
tepec, to work for a firm of English contractors down there. On my
88
way from the north to the south of Mexico, I stopped off for about
three days in the City of Mexico. One day, returning to the Iturbide
Hotel, where I was stopping, I met Murray Day, picturesquely doing
nothing as usual, under the beautiful hallucination that he was work-
ing for the Barber Asphalt Company, who had large contracts there. I
spent two interesting months on the Isthmus, and then, the yellow
fever, having started to get a little too pressing in its demands, the his-
torical frigidity once more sought my feet, and I left, ostensibly to be
present at the Triennial.
Last August, I came down here to Porto Rico, and have been work-
ing since then on the new macadam road construction, under the War
Department. The climate here is magnificent, with pretty girls galore.
Yes, Pop, I am still susceptible, and you know that I can talk far
more Spanish now than I could in Mexico, so look out !
I have been something of a wanderer. Pop, but as my chief down
here used to say: "A rolling stone gathers no moss, but gets lots of
polish." I have so far fulfilled the first part of the proverb, and am
still striving for the latter, with poor results,
Well, here's to you always, for the "Great and Glorious."
Ever yours sincerely,
Henry A. Harris.
JuNCos, Porto Rico, April 21, '01.
HERBERT STALEY HARRIS.
Dear "Pop": — I appreciate the fact that your labors have been very
arduous in your efforts to present to the world the doings and un-
doings of "our great and glorious," — undoings, doubtless, when one
considers the effect that negligence such as mine must have had on the
nerves of our much enduring secretary. The postal card with its notice
to hustle up was the last straw, and my haughty spirit of indifference
has at last been broken beneath its superimposed load.
But what next? — three years in a Divinity School, digging up
Hebrew roots and cracking theological nuts — the kind with much shell
and little meat — may have served to sharpen one's teeth at the expense
of one's wits, as may readily be seen by a perusal of this epistle, "full
of sound and fury, signifying nothing."
Just at present I am trying to get into marketable shape some of
the uncut gems laid away in academic and post-graduate days. But
the teachers in the great school of experience are so unappreciative of
the lustre and brilliancy that lie hidden beneath the accumulated dust of
the ages since Alma Mater forced her offspring out into the cold world,
that I have long since despaired of attaining to the height of the ideal
to which our beloved President pointed on that last great day when we
were all dubbed Knights of the Realm of Learning.
Now I know you must all be getting deathly tired of this nonsense,
so I'm going to tell you very simply that I'm pegging away with ideas
and books and human beings as my stock in trade, with the hope that.
in some way, the proper ingredients may be so mixed together in the
crucible of life that the result may be to the glory of God and the
benefit of human kind.
Such is the story of the best part of four years. The only inci-
dent besides was six months of service for Uncle Sam (June — Nov,,
1898) as a nurse in the Hospital Corps, U. S. A.
I have never been married. I had one vacation that furnished fish
stories enough to last a decade. I received my training in theology
at Union Seminary, New York City. I was ordained a Presbyterian
minister, April loth, 1900, by the Presbytery of Rochester, N. Y., and
since February, 1900, have been assistant to the Rev. J. Wilbur Chap-
man, D.D., Fourth Presbyterian Church, New York City.
With kindest regards to anyone who may be interested enough to
read this letter, I am,
Yours in the same old spirit,
Herbert S. Harris.
New York City, N. Y., April 18, '01,
WALTER STEWART HARRIS.
To the Most Persistent Ever: — Believing that further delay on my
part would result in your billing yourself, C. O. D., to my ad-
dress, and hoping that Lawrenceville fare has so increased your ton-
nage that my pleasure at seeing you would be the immediate precur-
sor of my bankruptcy, I hasten to assure you that the office boy has
instructions to return all further collect messages unopened. I may
add further that this is a cat which does come back, and that in all
probability you will burn Minnesota coal next winter — plus express
charges.
Your strictures on my apathy are excused by distance — but a long-
distance telescope would teach wisdom. I hope I am not an apostate
son — at least, I have always paid my tax on numerous brotherly
epistles from Kennedy and others, but when one has gone from under
the teaching of the Alma Mater, whom we all cherish and remember,
it is time, at least, to try to do something which will talk for itself —
to justify our Princeton days before the v/orld. Perhaps some of your
difficulty with apathetic brothers has come not because they forgot,
but because all their time and energy were directed toward remember-
ing.
However, I should be ill repaying Titanic effort v/ere I to use this
letter in explaining what is doubtless true of us all. As I under-
stand it, the object of your stupendous and admirable persistency, is
that of getting me to tell all I know about myself — permitting me
the right to expurgate the text where advisable.
After leaving the historic shades I was, as you know, for some
time in New York City, studying at the feet of one Keener — -may his
family live forever — and imbibing that legal knowledge which en-
ables me to know that, should another of his name continue his
90
persecutions too far, I might recover damages to the extent of the
charges on one collect telegram, sent without authority. However,
trusting in Hibben's maxim, of the line of least resistance, and feeling
sure that if a man has just the right brains for the law he may feed
off the fat of the land, but that if he has not, he might as well re-
sign himself to ham sandwiches and patched breeches for the rest of
his life, I decided that I already knew all of the law that was worth
knowing, and, consequently, left New York for Duluth — there to go
into the grain business. I stayed in the Zenith City for four or five
months, and was then recalled to the Minneapolis office of the firm
for which I had been working. I was employed by them several
months longer, but finally left them for the bank, where I am still
employed. In December, 1899, the bank gave me a v/edding present
in the shape of an appointment as assistant cashier, which oftice I still
hold.
Princeton men are fewer here than I intend they shall be some
day, and I have seen few classmates, or others, with the exception
of those I saw in Princeton while on my wedding trip. One thing
we all must sincerely regret in our Princeton experience is that the
friends we made there have, in so many instances, passed into other
places of living, so that though we may be the same old pals on meet-
ing, there is always the sorrow that they cannot be with us as in
the good old days.
We have a Princeton Association here — mostly composed of older
graduates than '97. Hall and I are, I think, the sole representatives
of the "most glorious." Jenkins, '94, sometimes visits me here, and I
also see him in Kansas City, where he has a church. With those excep-
tions, I can give you little history other than my own.
There are two reasons, particularly, which perhaps will excuse me
for not writing you before. The first and most important is that an-
other Princetonian has been born to Old Nassau. February 10 is
the day, and he is just about large enough to absorb most of the
pater's attention in the homing hours. I might here add a paragraph
which I suppose the censor will expurgate — "go thou and do like-
wise." I hope some day that "son" (nomen Stewart Brewer Harris)
will enjoy the memory and inspiration of Princeton days as I do,
but he will never know what real education means till he has another
Princetonian of the third generation on the carpet.
The second reason, spoken of above, is that I am serving on the
Hennepin County Grand Jury. We are investigating a corrupt city
government, and, between delving in filth and revelling in banking,
I am fairly forced to the wall in the matter of time for my own con-
cerns.
I am sorry, Mr. BuU-Dog-on-a Root, that I cannot find much more
to say. Though there are many things I might say to fill in the his-
tory I have briefly sketched, I cannot see that the details would in-
terest any one half so much as they would interest me, and that is less
than a chapel sermon (which remark you may also expurgate). You
91
all know how it is. We are all busy using the tools given us under
the elms, and in the rush of many things it is only the few that are
worth the telling.
Only one of these is left — my assurance of interest in, and friend-
ship for, all the brethren. Yours most sincerely,
Walter S. Harris.
Minneapolis^ Minn., May 13, 1901.
WILLIAM ELLIOTT HARROLD.
My Dear Pop: — Your different commimications have reached me
in due time, and my conscience has troubled me until in desperation
I sit down to write you a Triennial letter. I enclose the sheet properly
filled out. It presents an appalling list of negatives, but you, scholar
that you are, have not put forward the commercial idea in your
synopsis, Pop. Not that I am finding fault. Understand that if it
were otherwise, and searching questions were made on a commercial
basis, my answers v>rould still be of a negative nature.
The three years since graduation have passed by in a flash for me.
Hard work has been the order of the day, most of the time. I went
to Eastman Business College, Poughkeepsie, N. Y., in September, '97,
where I tried to cultivate the commercial idea. Was partially success-
ful, and in January went to work for a firm in Macon, Ga. My sheet
will furnish you with those business details.
I came east last May, and, I can assure you, New England is quite
different from Georgia. To its factories and bustle, and its seemingly
cold-hearted formality, the Southerner has to become accustomed.
And the entire factory idea of specialization is new to him. In the
South, with the negro as the labor unit, skilled labor is a rarity.
Your Yankee, however, is different, and can run a machine, make
shoes or argue politics, with equal aptitutde.
The rubber business is a very interesting one, and I would gladly
give you a description of it, but I know my space is limited. There
is always an element of excitement in rubber manufacture, on account
of the inflammability of the materials. Naphtha is used as a solvent
for the rubber gum, and you know a spark (electric or otherwise)
in naphtha, means a fire in short order, and then it is a case of hustle
or the whole plant will go. We have only had three since I have been
here, and we easily extinguished those with our fire hose. Live stream
is used entirely, instead of water, as it smothers the flame.
Well, Pop, I have spun out a letter some way or other and hope
it will be acceptable to you. I am patiently waiting for some '97 man
to launch forth a literary production. Encourage the idea. From
a cold-hearted business point of view, times were never more propitious
for the young writer than at present. All kinds of fiction are having
tremendous sales. Other young Princeton men are making names for
themselves and their Alma Mater, and '97 must not shrink. Well,
"Light thickens and the crow makes wing for the rooky wood," (re-
92
member our Macbeth class with the dear old Dean) so I will close
this rambling epistle.
I had the pleasure of meeting several Lawrenceville boys, Christmas
time, on their wa}^ South for the holidays. They knew Adr. Keener
very well, and were rather awe-struck when I told them what an old
reprobate "Pop" Keener was in college, but they all had a wholesome
respect and reverence for Princeton, which was very good. Teaching
the young idea is great work. Pop, in which connection you should
read Meredith's "Lord Ormont and his Aminta."
Well, good bye, and "Long life, long health and '97 associates to you
forever." Man can want no more.
Yours sincerely,
William E. Harrold.
Hudson, Mass., Feb. 18, '01.
TURLINGTON WALKER HARVEY, JR.
J. H. Keener,
Lawrenceville, N. J.
Dear Sir: — In reply to yoiir request that I send you a letter ad-
vising you of my doings and whereabouts since I left college, would
state that, after leaving college, in March, 1894, I was engaged in
the steel car business, in the capacity of Secretary and General Man-
ager of the Harvey Steel Car Works, located at Harvey, 111. In
March, 1896, I moved to Marietta, Ohio, spending the time at that
point until September, 98, drilling oil wells, and was fortunate in this
time in building up a very nice business. From Marietta I returned
to Chicago and went into the railroad supply business, representing
concerns outside of Chicago, in the sale of various railroad specialities.
In November, 1898, I purchased the plant of the Belle City Malleable
Iron Co., in connection with some of my friends, and am now acting
-as President and General Manager of that company. We are doing
a verj'- nice business, employing about three hundred "men.
I was married on December 31st, 1896, to Mary Dwight. We live
in Lake Forest, 111., and have two children, one a girl, born August
26th, 1898, and the other a boy, born January 6th, 1901.
I trust this information will be satisfactory and complete.
Yours truly,
Racine, Wis., May 7, '01.
T. W. Harvey, Jr.
FRANCIS REYNOLDS HAUSSLING.
My Dear Pop: — Your very cordial "13th communication" was re-
ceived last evening. I should have written long ago but have been
waiting for something to happen which would interest the class. The
story of my life for the past four years can be summed up in the two
93
words "medical student." That means no time to get engaged or
married or into trouble of any kind. Trusting that this letter will
again put me back into good standing in the class of '97, I am,
Sincerely yours,
Frank R. Haussling.
New York City, N. Y., April 7, '01.
WILLIAM BURTIS HAVENS.
My Dear Class Secretary: — In answer to your request I gladly give
a brief account of the things that I have done since leaving the greatest
of all great Universities, where, for a brief time I was a member of
its most illustrious class, of which fact I shall always be especially
proud.
Fate decreed that I should terminate my college course at the end of
my first year, and after a summer of pleasure with some of the friends,
that I had the good fortune to know and appreciate while at school,
I settled down here in Toms River, as a clerk in the office of my
father, who I might say had been highly honored in having been
chosen to fill the responsible office of Clerk of the County in which he
has lived from the time of his birth; and I considered that I was favored
in being placed here with him, with the advantages and opportunities
that one can readily see are at one's command in such a position.
In the spring of 1897 I met a young lady, a native of the State of
Ohio, who, not having heard of me before she met me, and, therefore
knowing little if anything of my previous history, was, much to my
surprise, willing to say "yes" when I asked her the old question, — that
people of experience say is ever new, and since I never had dared
to ask it before I cannot dispute it. As the stories go, after drawing
down the curtain over the scene for a while in November of 1897,
we were married, and I hope we will live happily ever after.
In September of 1897, which year was a very eventful one for me,
I was appointed, by my father, Deputy Clerk of Ocean County, which
position I still hold, I hope to my father's satisfaction.
February 7th, 1899, I was surely made happy by the coming to
my home of a son, who bids fair to become President of the great
and glorious United States some day, and perhaps may attain the
signal honor of the Presidency of our great and glorious University.
Do the members of the illustrious class of '97 agree with me as to
my last statement? I am sure that they do.
On the 23d day of March of this year, a little girl came to take
her place with us, and at the Junior Prom, of the Class of 1920, of which
my boy, I hope, is to be an honored member, I could wish her no
higher honor than that she might be a favored one in the dance.
This letter is already long enough, especially in view of the fact that
I have said so little that would indicate any achievements worthy of
mention, for as you, my dear Class Secretary, will remember, in a
recent letter I said that my achievements were almost wholly a matter
94
of the future and :f I can accomplish ever so little of what I have in
mmd, Princeton University will not consider me a discredit to it
I would say briefly in closing that I have in the town of Toms
River a nice home and a wife who is as ardent a Princetonian as I
T; TZ n ': '"'" '°° '''^ *° "^' ^"^ ^° ^"^-^-"' --y -em-
ber of the Class who may ever have the good fortune to get to this
town (I know that I said "good fortune" and I won't take it back
and It you don t believe I would be glad to see you ask Mr. StockwelV
one of 97's stars, and a rising young lawyer of Camden. I am sure
1 can risk my reputation for hospitality in his hands.
To you. my dear Class Secretary, I wish to express my sincere
appreciation for your untiring work to make the Triennial Class Book
a success, and I hope that you may have the fullest measure of the
success that your splendid efforts deserve
To the members of the only class, the glorious class of '97, I wish
individually and collectively, that success that eventually will make each
member as successful as his fondest hope has ever pictured, and he
Class-Princeton's greatest pride and benefactor. . a me
Very truly yours,
T^ r> XT , W. BuRTis Havens
Toms River, N. J., April 29, '01. havens,.
WILLIAM HENRY.
My Dear Secretary :-The Record of which this unimportant letter
forms a part is a volume replete with the Princeton sp rit and v^ th
reports of the effects of that force, in unadulterated foL, upon "he
wide, wide world." All "the cares of life" cannot overtak^ a man in
ime to down him if he has got as much of that virile tuff fn him
as most '97 men have. ™
greater han the desire to write my own account-for the time since
I left college is a wasted interval.
I was completely broken down when I left Princeton in the spring
tie h V^r ' '^^^ '^^" '" P^^^-^ «f reconstruction. 'Th?
ime has passed pleasantly enough. I shifted around, from time to
time according to the weather, from the Adirondack, to Florida
stopping for whiles at intermediate places. I was at Princeton during'
last winter and attended several lecture courses for a while I am now
strong enough to stand life in my native town, where I continue to
:rr ouir ^o^ii" - ^^°- --^ ^° --^ ^^ - ^ ^^^^
The Triennial Reunion gave me the greatest pleasure. It was like
su^ssf^r^'^'^" '''• ' '°^^ '^'' '^' ''^' ^— ^^-" -" bet:
I am grateful to the Secretary and the class for welcoming a mere
ex-member back to the common joys of '97.
Sincerely faithful, ~
Princeton, N. J., Jan. g, '01. " ^^"^^ ^^^^^'
95
-GEORGE THORNE HILL, JR.
Dear Keener: — I have not before responded to your appeals for a
letter, as my "career" since leaving college has been so conventional
and uneventful that I didn't consider it worth while. However, such
energy and stick-to-it-ive-ness as yours deserves to be rewarded.
Hence this.
After a brief essay at "mercantile pursuits" I came to the conclu-
sion that this was not my line, and obtained a position as reporter
for a monthly trade magazine. Subsequently became assistant editor
of the same publication. A little over a year ago I was offered the
associate editorship of a weekly trade paper, and accepted it. Am
still holding the job.
I haven't been to war, nor been married, nor saved anybody's life,
nor have I even made a speech. So you see the material is poor
for a good letter. Of course I might romance, but as your book is,
I suppose, a veracious chronicle, will refrain.
Complimenting you upon the admirable work you are doing as class
secretary, and wishing you all success, I am.
Yours faithfully,
George Thorne Hill, Jr.
New York City, N. Y., May 5, '01.
WALTON CRAIG HILL.
Greetings: — In the language of the immortal Gill. "Te Saluto."
At last I am about to lift part of the burden from the shoulders of
-our good "Pop" and write him the story of my past life, or rather of
my life since leaving our beloved Alma Mater. To begin with, "soon
after we were married I found her father had more money than we
had thought. I took the $13,000 and she took the child. I last saw the
■child in Kingston," (no, I have quit hitting the pipe). Since then
I have led an uneventful life trying to disconnect myself from the
mazuma I dreamed I had gotten from her father, but I did not want
to beat out "Jude" Taylor, for you know, our elongated Prophet
"Eddie" Shortz, said that soon after graduation "Jude" married an
heiress, and ever after that was too strong to work, but as work was
always one of my strong points, I cut out the heiress and went to
work.
I have really had such a hard time finding my vocation that my frienda
finally told me that a business life mixed with a homeopathic dose of
professional life would about suit me. So I followed their advice, and
am now filling the office of Treasurer of the Inter-State Life Assur-
ance Co., and by the way, I take this means of telling all the class,
that about next j^ear I expect to have them all under the banner of
the Inter-State, so beware and don't get your hammers out against
assurance.
I found it very hard getting a line on things, after basking in the
shade, under the banyan trees for so long. I tried to get serious,
96
but I found people thought I was a preacher — (not that I was not highly
honored at being classed amongst the gentlemen of the cloth), but
I feared the cloth might get some places some time that were unused
to seeing it. Then I struck out again ; this time I was put out in one
round as a bum politician, so I really did not know what tack to
take. I quit being a politician, for we were having troublous times
in our old commonwealth at that time, and discretion being the better
part of valor, I withdrew into more peaceful pursuits.
I thought then of falling back upon the musician's life, and started
out on that trial. Someone said something about being a pocket-edition
of Paderewski, and I came to again. Nothing remaining for me to do
I stuck to the law, and am now with the Assurance Co. I am placed
in a very peculiar position here in this portion of the country. As
I am the only living representative of the great and glorious class
of '97, I have to be satisfied with going over the sandy desert of life
and counting myself very fortunate, when I hit an oasis in the form
of a Reunion, and there partaking of the camel's milk at the well of
Shem. Then I move onward over the weary track again, until the
next oasis is struck, and may it be all of our good fortunes to get
on the fleetest of the camels, and, hastening on, partake full and well of
good-fellowship and love and affection toward all of our fellows
and classmates, in that greatest and dearest oasis in the lives of all
of us — dear old Princeton. And in finishing such a letter what better
words could we find than those of Kipling:
"When earth's last picture is painted,
And the tubes are twisted and dried,
When the oldest colors have faded,
And the youngest critic has died.
We shall rest, and, faith, we shall need it —
Lie down for an seon or two,
Till the master of all good workmen
Shall set us to work anew.
And those that were good shall be happy :
They shall sit in a golden chair;
They shall splash at a ten-league canvas
With brushes of camel's hair ;
They shall find real saints to draw from —
Magdalene, Peter, and Paul ;
They shall work for an age at a sitting
And never be tired at all !
And only the Master shall praise us.
And only the Master shall blame;
And no one shall work for money.
And no one shall work for fame;
97
But each for the joy of the working,
And each, in his separate star,
Shall paint the thing as he see's it
For the God of Things as They Are !"
For continued success to all of you, I remain.
Sincerely yours,
Walter C. Hill.
Covington, Ky., March 20, '01.
JAMES MORLEY HITZROT.
My Dear Pop: — Frightened by the large print of "Notis — 2," urging
a prompt reply, P. D. Q. — or quicker, I hasten to offer up the history
of the four years away from old Princeton and the glorious fellowship
of '97.
Now, Mr. Secretary, letter writing was never my strong point —
and an amusing and interesting letter written by me would be a curi-
osity well worth preserving, but since you persist, here goes for my
contribution, a mite costing a mighty effort even in the face of ex-
communicatory postal cards.
In the fall of '97 I entered the Johns Hopkins Medical School, a
lonely member from Old Nassau. Never having over-trained my mind
at Princeton, it was fresh for the struggle here, and I rapidly began to
learn how curiously and wonderfully man is made. Getting a good
running start, at the end of the first year I felt very much like the
chick just out of its shell — "It's a dickens of a big place I've landed
in." Nil desperandum, — I have plodded on and in June hope to join
that great fraternity — the M.D.'s.
So few of the fellows have crossed my path that information gleaned
from this source must necessarily be meagre. Nat Poe I see occasion-
ally and have wondered why we didn't appreciate his ability as a ball
player in Princeton. Nat is centre fielder on the L'Hirondelle Boat
Club team, and it is a sight worth going miles to see, him with stock-,
ing down over his shoe-tops, chasing the ball and making catches
which open the eyes of the opposing team and gladden the hearts of the
Boat Club sympathizers.
Buck Thompson and I helped Roy Cox get married in November,
and we gave Roy a send-off fit for the occasion.
Al. Graver is in Las Vegas, New Mexico, recuperating, and inci-
dentally satisfying his craving for more of the West.
Bob Garrett I see continually, but as I know he is writing tomes to
you, I can add nothing to what he will communicate.
Lastly, Pop, I apologize for my seeming neglect, but the life of a
medical student, teeming with interest for him, has but little which
would or could interest the "great and glorious," — therefore the delay.
Wishing you all sorts of success, and God-speed to every member of
our class. Believe me,
Most sincerely,
Baltimore, Md., Feb. 23, '01. Jas. Morley Hitzrot.
98
DWIGHT ELLINWOOD HOLLISTER.
My Dear "Pop":~B.tre I am writing my triennial letter within a
few days of my receipt of your first request. Such unheard-of prompt-
ness I, myself, can hardly explain ; for on previous occasions you have
urged and prodded me even unto the fifth and sixth degree. May
this make partial amends for past remissness. But why write at all >
It's the same old story— nothing new— only a few statistics thrown in.
In the fall of '97 about a dozen of our glorious class, after summers
of various occupations and amusements, drifted into the New York
Law School. I was among them. Some dropped by the wayside of
their own volition, some were dropped in similar places by the volition
of others, and still others remained faithful for two years, and in
June, '99, took the proud and dignified degree of LL.B. Fortunately
I was m the last class. This was immediately followed by Bar
Exams., most of us thinking it an excellent idea to dispose of that
difficulty before we could have time to forget what we had been trying
so hard to learn. The plan worked admirably and yours truly, amongst
the others, became the real thing in the legal line. Then came the
scuffle; but after a while, about July ist, 1899, I found an unsuspecting
soul of a lawyer, Morris P. Ferris by name, a man of standing and
established practice and many years my senior. Yes, he wanted a
clerk-one of some experience of course— and after some little talk
on both sides, it was decided that I might do. Well, I learned one or
two things before long, one being that a law school graduate is not
necessarily a lawyer, and for a long time I could never free myself
from the fear that I might lose my position. However, along about the
following February, the inscription on the office door was changed to
Ferris & Hollister," and under the new regime, which still continues
1 leel tolerably sure of my place.
As to the other information requested :-I am still unmarried and
hope to remain so; am a member of no clubs or societies except the
Yountakah Country Club, near Nutley, N. J., where I take occasional
recreations on the links. My part in politics this campaign was a vain
endeavor to reconcile with himself a red-hot sound-money anti-expan-
sionist a frequenter of the office, and bring him around to vote for
McKinley. He refused to vote either way, and I am much discouraged
The only articles" I have "published" are a few "summonses" and
other legal notices in connection with my practice-exact titles, dates
etc., may be had on application.
Journeys-have taken a few short vacation trips in various directions
and four visits to the good old town and college. One of the latter
was in the fall of '97 to obtain recruits for a certain athletic club foot
ball team m which I was interested, another a year later when the
score against "Old Eli" was 5-0, and still another last June when "the
great and glorious" reunited itself in such a great and glorious manner-
the fourth I had almost forgotten— I chanced to be in Princeton Satur'
day (Nov. 17th) and went down to the regular "varsity practice."
99
The "varsity" had an off day, and I believe the Scrub beat them. I
did not remain over Sunday.
My house-address, where I still reside, is Rutherford, N. J., and my
office is at 32 Broadway, New York City.
This, I believe, covers all the ground asked for, and were it not for
the fact that you have brought it all upon yourself, I would apologize
for thus imposing upon you.
Yours very truly,
DVVIGHT E. HOLLISTER.
New York City, N. Y., Dec. i, '00.
WILLIAM SHERLOCK HOLMES.
Dear Pop: — That you may not be compelled to need all the postals
in the Post Office Department, I at last write to tell you that I am
alive. After an attempt at medicine in the College of Physicians and
Surgeons I found that my brain could not stand the strain, and I
have since been living the quiet life of a country merchant. That's all.
Believe me, Very sincerely.
William Sherlock Holmes.
Freehold, N. J., March 21, '01.
WILLIAM HENRY HOOLE.
Dear Keener: — Your letter was received, a day or so ago, and re-
minded me of the fact that I had neglected to do what I had long
ago intended to do. I hope that my neglect will not delay the good
work.
I left college at the close of my Junior year and spent the summer
traveling through Europe on a bicycle with my brother. We covered
some 2,400 miles on our wheels, visiting France, Switzerland, Germany,
Holland and Great Britain, with a side trip by train into Italy. We
averaged about fifty miles a day, and during the whole trip we only
expended twenty-five cents for repairs to the bicycles, though we had
no duplicate parts with us.
I spent the next three years at Union Theological Seminary in New
York City, where I was graduated in the spring of 1899. During
three months of the last year I was very sick with a nervous disease,
but I was able to complete the course. During the summer I was
imable to do any work, and remained quietly at home. In the fall
I was enough better to take up work in some Mission Churches in
the Adirondack Woods of Northern New York. I was located at
Stark, St. Lawrence County, somewhat over twenty miles from the
nearest railroad. It was well into the woods, for one could go for ten
or fifteen miles either east or west through the solid forest before
coming to a road. The people were good-hearted and pleasant people,
but rather widely scattered. I was called to attend a funeral, as the
nearest minister, and I had to drive about thirteen miles. My churches
were ten miles apart, and the roads were not noted for their smooth-
ness. I was expected to preach at both places each Sunday, rain or
shine, snow or blizzard, and to attend the prayer-meeting at both
places each week. During the year I missed only five Sundays, two
while away on vacation, three on account of blocked roads. In one
community there had never been any religious services until five
years before I came, and the transformation was truly remarkable.
Of course all the evil has not been eradicated, but the tide was turned
from immorality to righteousness.
During the spring of 1900 I was ordained a minister by the Presby-
tery of St. Lawrence. At the completion of my year in the woods it
was decided that the work was too severe for me and I gave it up.
I then took up my present work. I have two churches now, situated
about five miles apart. The churches are not large, but are growing.
The South Wales Presbyterian Church has about twenty-five members,
and the Griffin's Mills Congregational Church about thirty-five.
Yours very truly,
Wm. H. Hoole.
South Wales, N. Y., Feb. 19, '01.
AUGUSTINE MINSHALL HOPPER.
Dear Pop:— Your "reminder" has come to let me know that I am
one of the "delinquents," and from what I hear I am by no means
alone.
I haven't meant to neglect the letter, but I have done very little
out of the ordinary the last four years, and it seems to me that the
space in the Record ought to be used by the fellows who have.
I went into business in my father's office on July ist, 1897, and the
following year I was admitted to the firm of S. W. T. Hopper & Sons.
As you know from the printed questions which I have already an-
swered I was married in May, 1898.
The arrival in Baltimore, on October 8th, 1890, of a little girl who
is "just for Princeton," you have been told of, and in June, 1902, her
mother and I hope to bring her up to her first commencement, and
then you can all judge what a force she will be in influencing wavering
"stujents" to go to college.
I realize, "Pop," that this is not an interesting letter, but, as I said
when I began, I have had no startling experiences, and I am sure
you don't want more of this sort of thing.
With my best wishes for you, for all time, I am.
Sincerely yours,
A. M. Hopper.
Baltimore, Md., March 2, '01.
GEORGE HOWE.
Dear Classmates: — Si valctis, bene est, ego valeo.
With that as a text what a letter might be written ! But neither
as text nor as pedantry do I make use of it, but chiefly to kill two
birds with one stone, if you will pardon the mixed metaphor — that is, to
wish you well and at the same time to tell my history in as short
a space as possible.
Our honored secretary seems to think that each one of us will have
books to write on our individual histories of the past three years.
He seems to forget that we are not so learned as he, nor so precocious
as Hector Cowan, nor so adventurous as "Sherlock" Holmes, nor
gifted with so many hearts as is — or was, if it is all the same to you —
my best of roommates, Eddie Axson. As for battles, public honors,
positions of trust, we have forgotten what they were like, so long ago
was it that we lived in that other world. Count Montalvo may tell
us of fights, Dr. Russell of honors, Andy Andrus of position of trust,
and Mr. Harold, from Georgia, of shoes; but the rest of us must con-
tent ourselves with almost a single sentence or else drift away into
that ever-pleasant land of dreams. To be perfectly frank, I have already
done that once — drifted back into that happy land, and lived it all
over again — but it wasn't published. You see, the world was a little
stronger than I was — and that is the story that the most of us have to
tell so far, though we mean to tell a very different one later on.
To begin at the beginning, I was put through the car-window by some
of you who read this — or don't read it — and whirled away to things
untried, accompanied by the same black care that Horace said so
much about. I wanted to write — you have already perceived my mis-
take — and so I managed to get a temporary position on a paper in New
York, and slaved away for — well, it was, as I said, only a temporary
position. I did not find it much to my taste to have doors slammed
in my face, and the city editor tell me I was a fool. So one day I
sat down in my garret room, folded my hands, and said to myself :
"Cheer up, old man. To-morrow the post will bring you something
good. Don't you worry, and don't do anything but wait." I waited
and the post brought me something good. I became a governor — a
tutor, I mean. For nine months I lived in the lap of luxury, and
travelled in far lands. In France I learned to say : "Je suis fatigue :"
in Italy, "odis lo studiare;" in Germany, "es thut mir leid;" and in
England, "his my 'at hon straight." On the steamer I learned a little
Russian too, which, while I cannot spell it, sounded like this : "ya wass
la blue." I am not quite sure what it means, but I learned it from a
pretty girl and it didn't matter. There was a Frenchman on that ship
who for politeness' sake spoke American : "Say, shove along de potatoes,
will yer?" He had learned his English from my protege.
Paris appeared to me to be a rather wicked city, but our little trouble
with Spain was at its highest development then, and I, being American,
should not pass judgment. Monte Carlo was very attractive, but I
couldn't find any positions of trust there, so I didn't lose anything.
I remember how in college we used to struggle over those Seven Hills
of Rome, but when I was there I did not find them particularly steep.
Venice — ah, Venice ! — get John Hall to tell you about that "beautiful
city." There were a few other cities in Europe at that time, but I
haven't space enough to write of all that I saw. There was a pretty
little San Francisco girl in Florence, and one day — I went home very
soon after that.
Then once more I was thrown on the wide, wide world. I knew
that Florida was narrow, so I started South. I didn't get any further
than Virginia — the State, I mean— and then I came back again. My
reputation had already been made, and on my return to New York
I found six men wildly fighting as to which should have me. I walked
into their midst quietly, with perfect self-possession, and stilled the
uproar with the announcement that I would make my own choice.
I made it, but it didn't go, somehow, and I chose again. On my sixth
choice I hit it. For the next two years, with the exception of vaca-
tions, I remained in the great metropolis attending the grand opera.
Thompson Frazer used to play the piano for me in those days, and
Billy Jessup to instruct me in philosophy and poetics. Once in a while
Charley Dunn would talk about authors, and Aleck Alexander about
girls. One day even old Abbie sidled in and began on socialism, but
he did not stay quite long enough for me to make out what he was
driving at. You can imagine what happy days those were when I tell
you that every morning I met Hagemeyer on Fifth Avenue, and once
had Net Poe say to me : "I tell you, we Poe's are pretty fine."
But a good thing could not last forever, and one day I decided that
I was not working hard enough. That was after an article had been
rejected and I had failed to get a position I had applied for. I went
down to Princeton and talked it over with the Faculty. Of course
they had only one thing to say, and they said it. I told our great
and noble class good bye at reunion, and then told other friends good
bye. On the steamer I discovered Eddie Elliott with a girl at the ex-
treme end of the boat, watching the phosphorescence, the moonlight
and other sentimental illuminations. I don't think he succeeded, how-
ever. He talked too much Latin to her. I was afraid he might be ill
after that, so I brought him to Halle with me and watched over him
till the semester began. He went of? to Berlin smoking horribly.
Now I have come round again to my first sentence. I am studying
Latin and Greek in the University of Halle, and shall probably keep
on at it for three years, if I can ever learn any German. If I were
only a Pennsylvania Dutchman like Bob Sterling, I shouldn't have much
difficulty. But if I were Bob Sterling I should have to be preaching,
studying, hunting, fishing, riding a bicycle and attending afternoon
teas all at the same time, and I could not do that. Anyhow, the beer
over here is better than that which — I might hurt somebody's feel-
ings.
That's my story. It was very uninteresting to write — as you will
find it to read — and has filled up so much space that I haven't paper
to tell about Ed. Axson. Arthur Kennedy might be a good man to
write about, too, but if I say anything he will ask me for some more
money. In fact there is no member of the whole class who isn't worthy
of all that can be said, and there isn't one of us who would not like
103
to say it all if we could. It would be much more satisfactory to write
about the others than about ourselves, because we are not ashamed of
our love for our classmates, but we cannot harp on our self-love.
Pop is very strict, however.
Fellows, did you notice that Pop did not ask us this time whether
we were engaged or not? How many of us will volunteer that in-
formation ?
Well, I am rather glad I was not in Princeton last November.
Things were a little different when we were in college. But all the
same I would give a great deal to be back at the beloved old place.
I am quite sure that there never was a class like the class of '97, and
that there never will be again. Some of us are 4,000 miles away, but
in heart we are very near each other and Old Nassau. I don't think
that either distance or time can ever take us very far away from Prince-
ton. Pop could tell us all about time and space metaphysically, but none
of us needs to go to him or to anyone, to find out that there is some
thing that can overcome even time and space. All of us have that
deeply rooted in our hearts.
Wouldn't it be glorious to be back in Princeton? It would be fine
even to go through the car-window again, and yet we found that pretty
sad three years ago. And the loving-cup !
May God bless and prosper you.
Your classmate,
George Howe.
Halle, Germany, Louisen St., 15 I., Dec. 10, 1900.
ARCHER STANFORD HUBBARD.
It is presumed that the catastrophe which has lately overwhelmed
Jacksonville has so occupied the attention of Hubbard that he has
been prevented from responding to the frequent advances of the sec-
retary. That he is distinguishing himself in the financial world
is evident from the number of responsible positions he now holds. He
is assistant cashier of the Mercantile Exchange Bank, vice president
of the Citizens' Gas Company and director of four other corporations.
It seems a foregone conclusion that Morgan's claim to the title of
Bonaparte of the financial world must soon be relinquished. A new
star is appearing on the horizon.
PAUL HURST.
The secretary is still very sanguine that some report may be had
from Hurst, but judging from his innate aversion to a rapid exist-
ence, fostered doubtless by his present sojourn in a tropical clime,
this information will be forthcoming when the Record has become
ancient history.
After leaving college the field of his activity was the cotton in-
dustry. He was associated with the American Cotton Company, a
104
St. Louis firm, which made a new kind of cotton bale. Last summer
the President, in quest of sturdy and courageous youths to hunt the
wily Filipino, hit upon Hurst as a person possessing qualifications
necessary to circumvent the machinations of the dusky islanders. In
appreciation of his extraordinary ability the President forthwith ap-
pointed him to a second lieutenancy in the regular army. He is now
bravely fighting his country's battles in that far-off land, and it is
generally believed that had he arrived earlier on the scene of action
the laurels which now adorn the temples of Funston would have
found an equally appropriate resting-place on the illustrious brow of
our valiant and distinguished classmate.
JOHN HARRISON HUTCHINSON.
My Dear Pop: — I certainly feel honored in being asked to contribute
to such a noble cause. I trust this letter will find you very well and
not over-worked, for I have a few ideas of the constant strain, you
must have upon you at Lawrenceville.
There is nothing like it, I am sure, having one's first, last and only
original article published in such an important volume as the
Triennial Record of the Class of '97 of Princeton Uuniversity; but I
am afraid it will take a much better writer than myself, to even merit
a place in such a popular volume.
Since leaving college, I am sorry to say, I have had no singular ex-
perience, such as Spanish Wars, and even China had no charms suffi-
ciently enticing, due entirely to my "shortness." I have been spending
most of my time at my home, Georgetown, and when not engaged in
civil engineering duties have been spending my time among the laws
of my native state. I think the law and the air in this vicinity are
agreeing with my duties and myself very well.
As to the honors some of my classmates have achieved, and the
great deeds they have accomplished, I am sorry to say, although I feel
it my duty to tell the class about them, yet on account of my seclusion
in the wilds of New Jersey, it will be simply impossible for me to
furnish any information at all.
In fact, when I want to hear anything about any one of my friends,
I go to dear old Princeton for the day and while there I find out
all about them, for their Alma Mater seems to keep a much better watch
over them than I can.
In closing I would say. that although I do not often have the pleas-
ure of a visit from any of my distinguished classmates, yet I can assure
them all that they are not forgotten, and should they at any time hap-
pen to visit Bordentown, I will be only too glad to have them drop in
and drive the cares of life away, cheer the hours and fill the office
with their presence. So with good wishes for you all, and a special
blessing for our esteemed and honored Secretary, I am as ever,
Very sincerely yours,
John H. Hutchinson.
Bordentown, N. J., Dec. 24, '00.
105
THOMAS HALL INGHAM.
My Dear Pop: — The pathos of your last communication has brought
me to the determination to show you that this is not altogether a
thankless world. I trust the other delinquents will feel the same way
and help to restore the balance to your tottering intellect.
Briefly, then, I entered the service of the Pennsylvania Railroad
Company as rodman in the "Maintenance of Way" department im-
mediately after graduation, and am now assistant supervisor at York.
My career has been uneventful and not in the least checkered, and
although I might make a few remarks anent the habits of the Jersey
wildmen and the Pennsylvania Dutch I think they will keep for my
autobiography. I am,
Very sincerely yours,
Thomas H. Ingham.
York, Pa., Feb. 17, '01.
ALBERT WOODWARD JAMISON.
My Dear "Old Man": — Please forgive me for causing you to send
a second copy of your masterly letter of which I am so glad to re-
ceive a second copy that I am not wholly sorry I failed to answer
sooner. I have been nearly over head in work all this fall ; how busy,
you may judge from the following: this ranch is on the Platte bottom,
25 miles from Lincoln and the State University. Yesterday a party
of students of Agriculture came out to see things. I took them down
into the pastures, and we started up at least five different bunches of
wild geese, probably two hundred or more in all. The students were
very much excited, and asked all about hunting them, and seemed very
much surprised when I said I had not been out after them at all.
One morning (just to show you how numerous they are) three flocks
passed over my head within gunshot, while I was working in a single
corral.
I suppose this letter is to cover the entire period since Jimmy —
"I believe you prefer the good old Anglo-Saxon — 'stench' " — et al
suffered their greatest loss.
The first two years after commencement I remained in Princeton
as a laboratory assistant under Professors Cornwall and Phillips,
doing as far as possible, what I was told, and incidentally having a
royal good time, living on lower University Place first, — the abode of
Freshmen, for one of whom I was frequently taken, especially at night, —
then in S. Edwards Hall, long known as the abode of polers, but
also known as the abode of one of the finest of the finest, who used
to run gadding about nights with a huge police lantern looking for dis-
turbers of the peace of the "incoming class" — to use the chaste and lofty
diction of "Prexy" Miller.
After leaving Princeton, I put in a season, or as it is technically called
"a campaign" with the Illinois Sugar Refining Co., of Pekin, 111., as
assistant chemist. During this time the hotel where I lived caught fire,
and I escaped with a scant suit of clothes and an umbrella. (It was
106
3 A.M., and I had a firmly fixed idea that I should have the hose
turned on me). It was very exciting, as the stairs were in flames be-
fore I got to them, and I had to do stunts over roofs, gutters and fire
escapes before reaching the ground, to find some one had vamoosed
with my unbrella — the only thing I had saved ( I had held to it until
I reached the fire-escape and then dropped it).
After the campaign was over I went on a stock farm of my father's
at Hamlet, Ind., (the Ft. Wayne R.R. runs through it, and I had been
over the road a number of times, never dreaming I should be in-
terested in that part of the world). Here I stayed until the end of
August, doing pretty nearly everything, first and last, that can be done
during this season of the year. The main business there is raising
pure-blooded Hereford cattle, but the other work of a farm is also
carried on. Then I spent about a month travelling around to different
places, all more or less connected with the cattle business, winding up
with a bunch of fine stock bought at the Minnesota State Fair. I
brought them through to this place after a number of delays due to
several different causes. Travelling with the cattle was a very novel
way, to me, of getting over the ground; disagreeable in many ways
but still decidedly interesting.
Out here my work has been less varied but still there has been enough
variety to keep the monotony broken to small fragments. Until to-
day the weather has been almost perfect, in fact, if we had had the
making of it, it could not have suited us better. To-day, however,
we are having a taste of winter, with a limp cloth edition of the high
winds the Platte Valley is famous for.
We all are very proud out here, for by common consent this is the
largest and best herd of registered cattle in the world, none excepted.
This property consists of about 3,300 acres, extending for five miles
along the river, and it is mighty fine land, and raises mighty fine
cattle, as I shall be most happy to demonstrate to any one of the
class who can come as far West as this. We are always open to
receive visitors, and they are always most welcome, whether they
come to buy five carloads of bulls or simply to note the difference
between a horse and a cow.
I believe this is all I have to say, except that you mustn't work too
hard, for we need you. Good bye, old man.
Faithfully yours,
A. W. Jamison.
Ashland, Neb., Dec. 22, '00.
HERBERT BROTHERSON JAMISON.
My Dear Pop: — Ever since August in 1897, I have been at work in
the office with my father, and during that time have had a very un-
eventful sort of a life. There are very few fellows from the great
and glorious class that are near here, so I have missed the good
fellowship very much indeed. I was present at the first annual reunion,
and of course had a great time renewing my youth, etc. I made all
107
my plan;< to attend the Triennial, but was taken sick during the early-
part of May, and was laid up for six weeks, which of course knocked
me out of the trip, and I may say that I was never more disap-
pointed than when I knew that I could not be present with you all.
As stated to you before, the most important event during the last
few years for me, is my engagement to Miss Grier, of Peoria, a graduate
of Smith, in the class of 1900.
I hardly think I shall be with you all in June of this year much as
I would like to be there, but I hope to be able to come down for the
fifth reunion.
With best wishes for yourselves and all of the fellows, I remain,
Very truly yours,
H. B. Jamison.
Peokia, III., March g, '01.
JOHN GERE JAYNE.
Dear Classmates: — It is with difficulty that I can withhold the ex-
pression "Dear Children" — not that I am as old as our honorable
Secretary, or as wise as our faculty members — but (and this is a but
which brings tears to my eyes) I can conceal the fact no longer, — I
am nearly bald headed. One by one the flowing locks have unlocked,
one by one each curling ringlet has unrung, and by our next triennial
"there'll be no parting there." So, "Dear Children," if you ever see
a man with lots of hair at your back door begging for a square meal,
don't feed him, — it isn't "Lady" Jayne. And right here I want to
apologize to those members of our "ne plus ultra" organization at whom,
in my thoughtlessness, I cried : "Go up, thou bald heads." My retri-
bution is just, — you have been avenged. (Scobe Van Nest take notice.)
(I hope this apology will help my hair, — nothing else has done any
good.) But perhaps my personal beauty is no longer a thing dear to
the class ; well, if not, try to remember me as of the "hairy days,"
and forget that the hand that wields this pen is bald headed. Did
any of you ever notice how few girls there are who care for fellows
with bald heads? Well, since I — but that is another story.
Fellows (as Gillie used to say), this is the first time I have been
able to address the class since I undressed you all on Class Day in
1897. I could tell you lots of things that have happened to me since
then, but I would be arrested by the U. S. Government for improper
use of the mails. Still as these letters are supposed to be heart to
heart talks of a personal nature I will endeavor to give you an ex-
purgated remark or so, on myself and him you used to know as "Bill
Reynolds." Most all of you are adepts enough in expression to supply
the strong words where you think necessary.
My own career has been checkered and chessed. I have taught school,
coached baseball and football teams, worked in a bank, sung in a
choir, played professional ball, chopped wood, preached a sermon and
tended bar.
You know after a fellow gets over the idea that Greater New York
io8
is just panting for him, he begins to answer want ads. in the Sunday
Herald, regardless of his college diploma. I even went so far as to
inquire after these three one afternoon :
(i) WANTED. — A bright young man as dishwasher. (No go—
they wanted a man from U. of P.)
(2) WANTED. — A man with a wooden leg to mash potatoes for a
hotel. (Didn't think I could mash potatoes.)
(3) WANTED. — An old woman with one tooth to bite holes in
Schweizer cheese. ("Already filled" — the position, I
mean.)
All these failures were exceedingly disheartening, and as failure fol-
lowed failure I resolved to get even with this old fool world, so I
took up that boon to all broken down athletes and unsuccessful business
men — the Law.
I graduated from an office, and was admitted, with "other members
of the class" to the bar (both before and behind it) one sweet day
in June, igoo, — a day long to be remembered in the annals of Luzerne
County, Penn.
"Bill Reynolds," aforesaid, during this same month, passed the best
examination that has ever been passed in Lackawanna County, and we
are now in partnership as the firm of Jayne & Reynolds, Room 47.
Bennett Building, Wilkes-Barre, Pa. Collections promptly made.
Divorces painlessly secured. Conveyancing a specialty. All sorts of
legal work undertaken. Loans negotiated and satisfaction guaranteed
in general practice (and no extra charge for the advertisement — thanks,
"Pop.")
Our meals are much the same every day. It's a continuous case of
"Beans, bean-soup and beans." We have purchased large roll-top desks
(on the installment plan) and they are pretty fair quarters to sleep in.
On a cold night we pull down the shutting-up part and the junior un-
locks us at seven a.m. We decided to accumulate a library (by
"borrowing" books from our friends), so we are handicapped for law
books, although we are pretty well supplied with patent office reports
and copies of the American Agriculturialist.
We had one case (see Hook vs. Crook, 199 Pa., 305) with money in
it. We got thirty-five dollars in cash, and it took just three hundred
dollars for us to celebrate properly and spend our first fee. Bill is
still figuring how much we will owe in seven years, if we have a few
more cases. We purchased a real iron safe the other day, and it makes
a grand thing to keep beer cool. We have hung up our diplomas over
our respective desks, and when we get a case we know nothing about,
we read the Latin to our client and ask him to call again. I am busy
learning to speak Hungarian, as we have to get a license for one of that
nationality, and I suddenly realized I didn't even know how to ask
him for a glass of beer. Bill is studying Chinese for there is no tell-
ing when he will need it, as our board bills will be due soon, and
they say that meals are cheap in China. We defended an Italian some
time ago and he got the limit. We bade him a tearful good bye for
109
ten years, and the ungrateful wretch swore that as soon as his time
was up he would back to our office and kill us both. What pleasant
jokes one finds in this business! It is so nice to be remembered by
one's friends. We make a specialty of lady clients, although we
haven't had any yet. We thought we had one yesterday, but she was
a book agent selling "The Way to Succeed." We took her remarks
as a personal insult and slammed the door in her face. Bill and I make
pretty good partners, we keep up an excellent general average. Bill
tells everybody what a smart fellow I am, and I air the excellent
qualities of Bill everywhere I go. Bill is a hard worker and I am a
good loafer. I look respectable, and Bill is. Bill knows the law, and
I look as if I did. Bill's hair is black and thick, mine is light and
"light." I write a good hand, and Bill tells me what to say. Bill makes
the speeches and I look dignified, so he will have the proper environ-
ment. "The eyes of the world is upon us and we have got to do it."
Bill is a good general lawyer, and I am a good criminal.
We never have any disagreements, for as yet we have had nothing
to disagree about. When summer comes again we are going to hold
legal revival services throughout the country in a tent to advertise
ourselves, and we have hired a crowd to tar and feather us so we can
get our names in the papers, for as Bill says, "It is far, far better to be
known as a tarred and feathered man than never to be known at all."
So I reckon this is "The Only Way" to be recognized by the public.
Sometimes work goes like a woman chopping wood with a dull axe,
and a fellow feels like a rooster that did all his crowing sitting
down, but when we feel that way. Bill and I start in to tell of the
old boys of '97, and before long we brace up and feel as happy as a
couple of cows going to a country fair. It's a real treat to sit down
and think how many of you all are doing so well, — married, and all
that sort of thing. We are making history, now, as a class, and we
must keep up the good work. We always had good sense, and we never
showed better judgment than when "Old Pop" was elected secretary.
I want to thank him personally for having kept me in touch with all
the fellows, and made the Princeton fire burn more brightly in my
bosom. Should Providence smile on the firm of Jayne and Reynolds
in a few years, we will give the class a house party for a month
either in Duryea or Hoboken, and in the meantime "Should auld ac-
quaintances be forgot," drop in at 47 Bennett Building, Wilkes-Barre,
Pa., if you ever land in Pennsylvania, and we will show j^ou what you
want, — from a prayer-meeting to one of the borey-eyed kind.
Yours for '97,
"Lady" Jayne.
,Wilkes-Barre, Pa., Jan. s, '01.
LAWRENCE CHURCH JEFFERSON.
My Dear Classmate: — Your several requests received; the reason of
my delay being that I have been getting into business in Chicago,
and have been there, more or less, for the last six months (principally
more).
no
My address in Chicago will be 5420 Ind. Ave.
My marriage experience is the same as a year ago, only we are all
a year older. So far I have taken no part in clubs, societies, or
politics, and as far as offices of honor, profit or trust go, none except
by my own appointment.
Since leaving Princeton I have pursued post-graduate studies in
packing and moving, and have attained all the degrees. My present
move is the third in three years.
Last spring I spent three months of my time in the mountains of
Idaho, hunting for my health, game and most any other old thing.
On my way home I went through Yellowstone Park, and just happened
to fall in with the Kennedys, '94-'oi, from Covington, Ky., who are
very fine fellows. We had a pleasant trip through the Park.
Since leaving college I have spent most of my time in the lumber
business, but in about ten days will be in the manufacturing business
in Chicago.
Hoping you will pardon my delay, I am.
Yours truly,
L. C. Jefferson.
Chicago, III., Feb. 27, '01.
FREDERICK NEVINS JESSUP.
My Dear "Pop" : — Those sample letters you sent have been the un-
doing of me, and have scared me out of any thought of a class letter.
Even a sermon would be an easier task than soaring up to such
heights. But a good while has lapsed since I last read them, and I'm
glad to say they no longer haunt me as ideals. Instead of soaring,
you are invited to take a long breath and plunge in with me, first ot
all, for a good 7,000 mile swim to Beyrout. There you will have a
full three years to sit out under the blue Syrian sky and dry your
clothes, if you don't immediately invest in white duck suits and military
looking helmet hats, as Luke Miller and Teddy Balken did on arrival,
or haven't come prepared with khaki equipments like Bob Garrett's.
And while you are driving about the city in victorias with skeleton
horses, or off camping at the Cedars, or travelling through the country
on a blooded Arab steed, or enjoying Balken's interesting experience
of trying to smuggle fire-arms into the Turkish Empire, you can leave
me out at the Syrian Protestant College, teaching, writing, spelling,
reading, in one and two syllables, the roundness of the earth and other
branches of higher science and literature.
The college is a fine place, and the time went quickly, with the sum-
mers spent at home on the slopes of Lebanon, about 2,500 feet above
the sea. It did seem a long way fi-om Princeton, though, and one would
very often miss the fellows and the life. Wolf Post was here for a
couple of years, working like a Trojan and walking off with every
prize which was open to him in the Medical School. It was a pleasant
sight the first year to lay eyes on Allen Sankey — moustache, camera
and all, — if only for a passing glimpse. Last year was the lucky one:
going down to meet Luke and finding Bob Garrett and Teddy Balken
as well. It was like getting a big whiff of the old campus atmosphere,
and did one good. You, who have been living on here within range of
the fellows and the college, can't realize how we feel who are kept
so far from it all. It was one of the hardships of our work that neither
JLuke nor I could be at the Triennial save in spirit, and that telegram
was very much appreciated. The last distinguished visitor was Kirk-
wood, who brought back the old days, with slightly different setting,
as he leaned back dreamily in an easy chair, enveloped in smoke, and
murmured mingled accounts of Spanish beauties, ministerial experiences
and bull fights.
Last summer my time was "up." I did the Paris Exposition in three
hours, spent a month in England, part of it in the Scotch and Eng-
lish Lake Country, and then came on to America and Auburn Semi-
nary.
Perhaps you'll think me prejudiced, but I am delighted to find that
Seminoles are not after all the set of fruits, freaks, and unkempt farm-
ers that we used to think them when we were down at Princeton.
Instead it seems the next best thing to being back at college.
Little more remains to add to the short and simple annals of the
poor. As for engagements, wives, children, lucrative positions, names
of books written or crowned heads visited, I'll have to ask you to wait
till our Sesquicentennial Special. Till then a long farewell to all great-
ness.
Frederick N. Jessup.
Auburn, N. Y., Feb. 19, '01.
WILLARD PARKER JESSUP.
Dear Pop: — Please pardon this lengthy delay in responding to your
request for an account of my post-academic career, but there are rea-
sons, I assure you. Inasmuch as such an account contain little of
thrilling interest to the class at large, and because in your encyclical
you emphasized the necessity of literary finish in the composition
thereof, I thought I would not undertake to write until I had suffi-
cient leisure to do it properly. Alas, that time has not yet arrived.
You will believe me, perchance, when I tell you what I have been doing
for the last six months.
The first year after I left college I acted as principal of the Oxford
Academy at Oxford, Pennsylvania, one of those old-time farmers'
academies which have almost entirely passed away. The life there
was as much of a contrast to college life as you can possibly imagine.
I realized to the full, the truth of all those reports of the cold, hard world
which came to me while I lingered, lotus-eating in Arden. The ex-
perience served me in good stead, however, for I have since been able
to bear the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune with lighter
heart." This is putting it a little strongly perhaps, for I really haven't
had so much to complain of after all. I expected a continuance of
the delights of Princeton days and was disappointed — "Hinc illae
lacrimae."
112
In the fall of '98 I took a position as instructor at the Riisby Military
Academy in New York. This was much more to my taste, as the
work was easier and I had opportunity to indulge in the pleasures
afforded by the metropolis. That sort of thing soon palls upon one,
however, especially as, in New York, opportunities for social inter-
course are very limited to one of moderate income.
In February, '99, I went over to Brooklyn to take a place as teacher
of Latin and History in the Boys' High School, in which position I
remained until June, 1900. It was a fine position, but the work tended
to become very monotonous. I had seven classes to each of which I
had to expound the same lesson in history. You can imagine, per-
haps, that by the time I reached the seventh class I was somewhat
familiar with the subject matter under discussion. However, it went
well enough for a year and a half.
Brooklyn I have found a most delightful place to live in. Beside
being so near New York, it affords many facilities for amusement, and
at the same times one has opportunity to form those close social re-
lationships with cultured people without which life is scarcely worth
living. I may have been particularly fortunate in the people I have
met here, but I believe there are more people of real culture to the
square mile in this Borough than in any place of which I have had
any experience. I have a great many friends here, and they have made
it so pleasant for me that I have continued to live here, though all my
work is in New York.
Last spring I was offered a position as private tutor in New York
at the same salary I was drawing at the High School. As I would
have to devote only my morning hours to this work, I though it an ex-
cellent opportunity to do something I had long desired to do, namely,
to take up the study of law. So I determined to accept, and since
October last, I have been drilling mathematics and English into the
reluctant head of a candidate for admission to the "sacred precincts,"
and at the same time endeavoring under the kindly auspices of the
New York Law School, to familiarize myself with the principles of
jurisprudence as laid down in my own state. Now, maybe you will
understand why I have not written before. I have scarcely a mo-
ment's leisure from 7 a.m. to ii p.m., except on Sundays, and you
may well believe that I am not greatly inclined to exertion of any sort
then. I am enjoying the law work immensely, though I had no idea
of the vastness of the subject until I got well into it. Our instructors
encourage us by telling us that no man can know all the law, and so
we toil on, absorbing what we can, and trusting it will be sufficient
to enable us to pass a bar examination. At first it was a little diffi-
cult to prevent confusion of my morning with my afternoon work.
There was a tendency to mix up truncated prisms, logarithms, and the
binomial theorem with torts, novations and bailments, but I have quite
overcome that.
No, I have not married or been given in marriage. The worst I
have done in that line has been to act as accessory in the first degree
113
at a ceremony. I am, nevertheless, prepared to give testimony as to
the conjugal felicity of one or two of the benedicts of our class.
My travels have been limited almost wholly to frequent trips on the
Sixth Avenue Elevated and the Gates Avenue trolley line, on which
I find, after a careful computation, that I have traveled about two thou-
sand miles in the last two years.
Now and again I bespeak one of "the Elect" in the seething crowds
of Manhattan. A hearty Princeton grip and the sight of a familiar
face does me a world of good.
Into thy fatherly care, dear Pop, I commend this mite to be added
to the reams of unadulterated English which, long ere this, must have
filled the secretarial sanctum. With fraternal regard still undiminished
for you and the members of the "great and glorious," I am,
Most cordially thine,
WiLLARD P. JeSSUP..
Brooklyn, N. Y., April 3, '01.
WALTER LATHROP JOHNSON.
My Dear Pop: — One of thy wayward children has at last determined
to write to the guardian of his college days, to say that the memories
<of those days have been ever present with him during this much of
his journey through life.
For the first year after I v/er_t through the car window at the rail-
way station of the old hunting grounds, I played the gentleman (or
loafer), not doing very much of anything. Then, one fine day in
June, 1898, I found myself in a stock broker's office, surrounded by a
lot of funny papers they called stocks, and a few still funnier papers,
with some square pieces torn oflf, called bonds. And here I have'
been ever since, always trying to learn something more about these queer
pieces of paper or what they represent.
Although Harry Fine and I were, and are, the best of friends, I
must say that I never learned to add until I struck Wall St. ; while
on the other hand I have yet to find any practical application in busi-
ness life for the intricate theorems of Calculus or Differential Equa-
tions.
When I get rich. Pop, (which I see no signs of in the near future),
I am going to endow a chair of Good Fellowship at Princeton, and
seat a '97 man in it.
With the very best of wishes for your success, and that of all our
friends whom this may reach, I am.
Your fellow classmate,
Walter L. Johnson.
New York City, March 3, 1901.
NEJIB IBRAHIM ANGELO KATIBAH.
The sun never sets on '97, "Where Afric's sunny fountains roll
down their golden sands" the voice of Katibah is heard in the land,
sounding the praises of Princeton and doing credit to '97. For five
114
years he has been chief translator for the Sudan Government Rail-
way. Further information received from him is hereto appended,
given in his own characteristic style:
Marriages : Ch ildrcn :
(a) Date, Vid. Genesis. Supply ordered — Post-Graduate
(b) Place, Utopia. Studies Pursued.
(c) Maiden Name of Wife, (a) What, "To be or not to be?"
Daughter of Eve. (b) Where, Great Sahara.
(d) Residence of AVife, the (c) When, when occasion oc-
Globe. curs.
It is very apparent that a continuation of his efforts will cause the
desert to bloom as the rose.
JOHN HENRY KEENER.
Dear Classmates: — There should be an unwritten law, with all the
force and authority of a positive enactment, which exempts the secre-
tary from writing a letter on such an occasion. His frequent communi-
cations, made necessary by the oversensitiveness of so many persons of
retiring disposition, and still further increased by the inexcusable in-
difference and general apathy of others, have so exhausted his vocabu-
lary that he is in danger of repeating himself and thus either betray-
ing his limitations or else grating upon the sensibilities of his readers.
Then, too, he has already severely tried the patience of many mem-
bers by his unremitting zeal in forcing upon their attention his match-
less ( ?) compositions, so that the self-poise and serene temper which
generally characterizes them has been disturbed and maledictions have
been his portion. Why should he still further offend their taste and
add fuel to the flame of their passions? Truly, additional messages from
him seem like adding insult to injury.
Besides, serving in the capacity of "whip" entirely unfits one for
sublime thinking and nicety of expression. The language one uncon-
sciously acquires in this bolstering-up process savors strongly of the
police courts, where force rather than elegance is the prevailing char-
acteristic. To sandwich such material between so much that is chaste
and exceptionally excellent seems utterly inexcusable, unless it be on the
basis, that, by way of contrast, the lattef is properly appreciated.
But, notwithstanding these excellent reasons for silence, the secretary
is amenable to the same uncompromising custom of class obligation, and
even he, dictator though he seems to be, must write a letter. With this
justification for his act, and with fervent appeals to a suffering public
for merciful consideration, he launches forth upon the recital of a few
unimportant details, which, in their interest, are strongly akin to statisti-
cal tables, and, in regard to furnishing employment, about as profitable
as the perusal of Webster's Dictionary, to see how the characters might
turn out.
It was my good fortune to return to the university the year following
115
graduation. There was a strong demand for some one to play the role
of fellow in Mental Science. No one appearing on the scene as a can-
didate, the necessity of the occasion brought to me the coveted honor.
A year's hard work gave me but a faint glimpse of the only subject
worthy the serious consideration of thoughtful men, but it impressed
me more profoundly than ever with the undoubted superiority of this
subject over all those that can engage the attention of the human mind.
It was too deep for me, hence this tribute.
But my efforts during the year were not solely directed in the line of
philosophical investigation. I had been commissioned by the authorities
to act, in conjunction with Bill Leggett and the other supernumeraries,
in an effort to make of Edwards a habitable abode. This dormitory had
been the arena of so many midnight escapades that it became a stench
to the nostrils of the governing body, and energetic measures were
necessary. Armed with a dark-lantern and a club, I interspersed the
weary hours of ontological study with herculean efforts to bring about
the desired reform. Visions of hair-breadth escapes and bloody en-
counters did not deter me, for Edwards had to be reclaimed. It was —
when I left.
The next year the President, in a moment of extreme altruistic feel-
ing, tendered me the fellowship in ethics. I, moved by the opposite
feeling, accepted. This brought me into close contact with the head
of the university and gave me a splendid opportunity to suggest various
improvements in his policy of running the institution, where, to my
mind, he was not adhering strictly to the behests of the categorical im-
perative. It is needless to say, that before I ventured any suggestions,
I was always sure of a hasty exit.
The most pleasant memories of these two years of post-graduate
work are associated with a "seminar" which weekly convened in my
room. It was composed of many of those of our number who returned
for further study, and had a fair sprinkling of noted men of other
classes. These meetings in their scope and interest rivaled the sym-
posiums of classic days. The profoundest themes in all departments
of knowledge were thoroughly discussed, and their relative position in
the general scheme finally determined. Indeed, such was the char-
acter of that body and so beneficial its discussions that it is generally
understood that without its helpful influence Russell could never have
secured the proud title which he now enjoys. Others of that notable
body achieved distinction, traceable solely to the impetus received here.
But not so with your humble servant. The lingering fumes of bad
tobacco and the painful impressions of a board-like bed drove from
his mind the beatific visions of the early part of the evening and the
morning found him with thoughts too deep for utterance and too
chaste for print.
And, now, through the generosity of the authorities of the Lawrence-
ville school, I am posing as an instructor in Latin and mathematics,
and incidentally drawing my pay. Here I suppose I shall continue as
long as I can dupe these good people and keep up the bluff. If any
ii6
of you happen in this vicinity I should be delighted to see you. There
is no latch string. It is "wide open."
In closing, I wish to thank all of you very heartily for your gener-
ous assistance in getting up this record. I say "all" advisedly. While
a few of you have seemingly been unresponsive, yet I am charitable
enough to believe that it was due rather to uncontrollable circum-
stances than to lack of class patriotism. It is a cause for great rejoicing
that our class spirit has lost none of its pristine vigor, but that in each
succeeding struggle an additional halo adds to its lustre. May the
coming years still further cement us, remembering that in such com-
radeship we are not only most helpful to one another, but we are best
serving our Alma Mater, whom we owe more than we can repay. God
bless you all. Sincerely yours,
Pop.
Lawrenceville^ N. J., May 20, 1901.
JOHN MUMFORD KEESE.
Dear Pop: — What's the use? Can't you let a fellow alone? This
is your third notice that lies before me, and I am gradually becom-
ing ashamed to let you waste any more energy upon me. If ever-
lastingly-at-it will accomplish, you certainly will succeed.
I have been one of the delinquents, because I do not feel inter-
esting, but now I'll bore away to the best of my ability.
I would not hesitate so much if I could hold the attention of
readers as Booth Tarkington does in his "Gentleman from Indiana."
A great longing for the old days came over me as he made Hark-
less reminisce of the days under the elms and the seniors upon the
steps, the songs and good fellowship.
The old world contains some queer people, and in my work I
meet many of them — I suppose I'm one of them myself, and don't
realize it — but after all, we have a pretty good world to live in.
When I started to practice in a city, I wondered how long the hungry
stage would last. At first I felt somewhat like the old "dark" in the
following: "What you want to do," said the druggist, as he handed
the old darky the patent medicine, "is to take a dose of this after
each meal."
"Yes, suh," was the reply, "an' now, boss, will you please, suh,
tell me whar I'm gwine to git de meals?"
But now I manage to get at least one meal a day, am a member
of the staff and attending physician in one of our hospitals here;
fill in spare moments lecturing to the nurses, addressing various
clubs in the city, and "plugging" ; am interested and doing well in
my work, and beginning to have plenty of it. I do, however, deplore
the necessity of getting in at six A. M., as I have been doing rather
frequently recently, — could find the keyhole easily, too.
I have had some good visits with four or five of the boys who
have seemed to enjoy the happy home with which I have been
blessed for over four years now. We are on the high road of travel
117
here in the Empire State, and would be more than happy to see
any of the fellows who might pass through Syracuse. Two 'phones
in the office, so "you can't lose me." Call me up.
Sincerely,
Syracuse, N. Y., March 15, 1901. J. Mumford Keese.
WILLIAM NOBLE KELLER.
Dear Classmates: — Since I left Princeton, in June, '97, I have been
existing in and about Columbia, Pa. It was very hard to start into
work, and I missed the fellows and the campus very much for a
long time; now it is not so hard to go to work every day, and I
always look forward to spring and fall, when I make a pilgrimage
to Princeton or New Haven and always see some, if not a great many,
of the fellows with whom I spent four of the most enjoyable years
of my life.
July, '97, saw your humble servant enstalled as manager, "working
manager," of "Locust Grove Farms," and I never realized before
how much one has to contend with on a farm. Well, it was good
experience, but not the kind of work I wanted, so after spending
two years on the farm, I secured a position with the Columbia Trust
Company, then organizing, taking charge of the farms as a side is-
sue, which means long hours and hard work, but, then, there is
always the chance of something better coming along.
Hoping by the end of five more years I shall be able to tell you of
time better spent. Ever your friend,
Henry Neff Kehler, Jr.
Columbia, Pa., Feb. 26, 1901.
HENRY NEFF KEHLER.
My Dear Pop: — I have time to drop you only a few lines in reply
to your numerous requests as to my doings since I left Princeton.
After leaving college I spent four years at Rush Medical College, in
Chicago. After graduation, passed competitive examination for in-
terne at Cook County Hospital, Chicago, where I remained eighteen
months. Since then have spent most of my time in Colorado and New
Mexico, and at present am with Denver & Rio Grande Railroad Hos-
pital at Salida. Yours very truly,
Salida, Colo., May 6, igoi. W. N. Keller.
GEORGE HARRINGTON KELLY.
My Dear Pop: — Your gentle reminder of February 12th, reached me
at Elizabeth City, N. C, last week, and this is the first opportunity
I have had to reply to it. I regret that my "inexcusable indifference"
has delayed this letter so long, and can only plead that you will
bear with me for this time. I have been ill since the ist of January,
and after getting out of the hospital, went south for a rest, and am
now in good condition once more.
Since our graduation my career has been a very uneventful one.
118
I spent three years at the Western Reserve University Law School
here; was graduated last June, and immediately admitted to the bar.
Since that time I have been general utility slave with the above
firm, and am getting a little practical knowledge of his royal majesty,
the law.
I have not taken any extensive trips aside from journeys up the
lakes in the summer time and occasional short visits to other places.
It was a matter of extreme regret with me that, owing to the bar
examination, I was unable to be at the triennial, and I hope that the
next reunion will see me with the rest of the chosen.
I regret to say that I have not the pleasure of announcing my
engagement to any of the best of God's products, and, therefore,
cannot give you the name of my wife or my children.
Perkins is the only '97 man who exists in this town (and I don't
mind saying that it is merely existence), and we see quite a good
deal of each other, and do our best to celebrate properly the Prince-
ton victories, etc.
I trust that I shall have the pleasure of receiving the triennial re-
port before long, and that the announcement in the last number
of the Alumni Weekly is an error.
I remain as ever, Yours for Princeton and '97,
Cleveland, O., March i, 1901. George H. Kelly,
Alias "Pie."
ARTHUR MARCH KENNEDY.
My Dear "Pop": — In your very delightful letter of a month or so
ago, requiring an immediate answer, you suggest that, in replying,
we "just sit down and forget what we are doing" — on which score
you must pardon my delay. In waiting for "the ebullitions of thought
and feeling as free and untrammeled as the crystal fluid that gurgles^
in all its pristine beauty, from some cavernous seclusion in the moun-
tainside" to come along, I forgot why I had sat me down! I think
that sentence of yours would paralyze almost any one! But having
delayed you so much already, I shall now endeavor to make up for
lost time by not delaying you too much, even in the reading.
You must know, then, that my career, since my heels disappeared
-hrough the car window at the Princeton Station, has been diverse
varied and not uncheckered. The wide, wide world proceeded at once
to shove in any old direction, regardless of the shovee ; so that 1
was glad to stop for a while at a factory in Philadelphia, where I
aad a job as a superintendent, and many interesting adventures. I
learned to harden myself to the pathetic side of "the workers' " life,
ior that is a necessity; and I was edified to learn that there was an
amusing side as well, for that means research and is correspondingly
eatisfactory. I learned to make estimates, etc., in a ceaseless roar
Qf machinery all but deafening, and to have my letters punctuated
V the crashing blows of a steam hammer about eight feet away
All this was, of course, very pleasant, — which is not the manner of
speech to be employed in referring to the fourteen hours a day
119
spent in a casting-room, equipped with seven furnaces, on red-hot
August days. Sometimes, too, there was more or less excitement
to be found in occasional chats with gangs of angry Union strikers,
while vague feelings of loose bricks in transit pervaded one's inner
consciousness or permeated one's outer periphery. These various
factors, you will understand, united to keep me interested in my
work. Bye and bye I was through with it, and after some further
peregrinations, which included a couple of months in Princeton in
the spring of 1899, I landed, at last, at the "Equitable Life" in New
York, where I am, at this writing, still clinging to my job. But I
must mention (what I see your sample letters make very plain to be
my duty, as it is certainly my pleasure) that, prior to this, I took
a few days off, one time, and was married. I am now engaged in
"living happily ever after."
The president of the Equitable is, as every one knows, one of
Princeton's most illustrious and loyal sons, and some day I may ask
him to authorize a large contribution to your Class Fund, which
you say is getting low. And if he says "Yes," I'll send you all that
I find I do not need for the Memorial Fund, which is also low. Do
not expect too much.
Busy as my life has been, I have yet found time for literary
efforts. I wrote a book once which was read by several friends over
whom I exercised an undue influence. Two of these are still my
friends. I also wrote a "pome," which has been regretfully declined
by four magazines, eleven comic papers and forty-four newspapers.
It is about a fake cur who had a quarrel with a fakir named Dan.
I append the last quatrain, gladly taking taking advantage of this
rare opportunity to see it in print :
So he curdled the blood of discourteous Dan,
And, encouraged to curtail the monk,
His cur tail got curv'd 'round his curly cur ear
And his career ended curplunk !
I cannot better close than at this juncture. In the words of your
sample letter : "I hope you are well ; I express the earnest wish that
your whole being is replete with virility."
Very sincerely your friend,
Arthur M. Kennedy.
New York City, N. Y., Dec. 22, 1900.
EDWARD GRUET KENT.
Dear Pop: — Your postal was received this morning and, of course,
I cannot delay after receiving such an urgent appeal to write. I
will do so even if the letter may seem pretty dry. As you may
know, I am leading a very uneventful life, and, therefore, have little
of interest to say.
After leaving college, in June, '97, I spent the following summer on
the Jersey Coast and in September returned to Princeton, staying
there until about November i. After that I spent some time in
120
Philadelphia; then returned to Princeton, and remained there until
college closed for the "midwinter vacation." ( ?)
In April of the following year I secured a position with the Essex
County Electric Company, which has since been absorbed by the
United Electric Company of New Jersey, and have been with that
company ever since.
Orange, formerly a Yale stronghold, is now well represented at
Princeton, and I think the class of '97 is in a measure responsible
for this, for before our class entered college everything was very
blue in this town. I think there are five Orange representatives in
'97 — Arthur Hagemeyer, Gregory, Frank Baldwin, "Chap'' Reynolds
and myself.
"Chap" Reynolds and Hagemeyer are now New York business men,
Gregory is living in Connecticut, I believe, and Baldwin and myself
are compelled to spend our days in Orange, the former being city
editor of the Orange "Chronicle."
It is only when in New York that I see any of the '97 men except
the ones above mentioned. The Princeton Club is the meeting place,
numerous "sessions" being held there. For want of interesting news
I must close, wishing success to '97.
Yours very sincerely,
Edward G. Kent.
Orange^ N. J., March 7, 1901.
RICHARD BROWNING KENT.
Dear Pop: — What have you been smoking lately? I answered
your late circular the day after I received it, like a dutiful and loyal
son of '97. Didn't you receive it? I am touched to the heart by
your wail of woe and will hasten to duplicate the information I can
remember it asked for. First, I am in business in Sioux City, Iowa,
as assistant manager of the Mondamin Block Company, and have
been out here about seven months. I am unmarried, thanks to my
massive brain and a shortage of funds. I am a member of the
Princeton Club of New York, president and secretary and treasurer
and only member of the Princeton Alumni Society of Sioux City,
and also a member of the Sioux City Boat Club. I haven't run for
office, or held a position of honor, or read any papers before any
august bodies. To my credit side, I can only write that I am still
free and that the normal output of the brewery here was only in-
creased five per cent, when I hit the village. During the muss-up, I
.was with the New Jersey Naval Reserves and met a man whose
brother saw a Spaniard.
I don't remember your other questions. Pop, but please don't
think I neglected your letter. If you only knew how lonesome I
become away out here, for even a whisper from the dear old place
you wouldn't accuse me of that. Why, I often get off in the woods
here and rip oflf a cheer or so just to hear the old name go sky-
rocketing through the air.
I hope you can dig enough material out of this to keep my name
in the record. Good luck and prosperity to you, Pop. Don't let-
any of your bulletins pass me by.
Most loyally yours,
Richard B. Kent.
Sioux City, Iowa, Feb. 17, igoi.
CARLTON MONTGOMERY KERSHOW.
My Dear Pop: — In reply to your last bombardment, here goes for
a try. After leaving the good old "burg" in June, '97, it became my
object to find some sphere of activity in which to continue the round
of toil, to which we had all been so constantly subjected in the
strenuous undergraduate days at Princeton.
However, as a preliminary, I found it necessary for my health
(of course, with the aid of a doctor's certificate) to put in the next
few months in making several trips here, there, or "any old place,"
some long, some short, but I must say all very pleasant. My next
move landed me in the Department of History and Literature in the
Graduate School of the University of "Pennsylvania. Here I led a
very quiet, but enjoyable life for two years, interrupted, several times,
by long trips to the far West, the South and Europe, on all of which
occasions I never failed to run across numerous Princeton men and
to have the opportunity of spending many a pleasant hour with one
or another of them.
On one of these trips, two summers ago, while living in Berlin, I
had the luck to share, for a time, my humble abode with Bob Wilkins,
and had the advantage of his great linguistic abilities (they really
were great, you know, although Bob wouldn't acknowledge it in
public, of course) in my endeavors to make the natives talk American.
As many of the fellows know, we have a thriving Princeton club,
here in Philadelphia, which we all feel is doing constantly increasing
good work in running the affairs of the nation generally, as well as be-
ing a center for all loyal adherents of the old college.
Referring to that imposing list of questions, I am a member of
several clubs and societies. Am not married. Have not held any
position of profit, honor or trust (anyone would know better than
to offer me either of the last two), but as to the first, I am busily
engaged at present in trying to catch up to one.
Wishing all the fellows the very best of luck, I am,
Most faithfully yours,
Carleton M. Kershow.
Philadelphia, Pa., March 16, 1901.
SAMUEL VICTOR KING.
My Dear Pop: — I have just finished my studies at the West Penn-
sylvania Medical College and can now tack an "M. D." to my name.
122
My life since I left Princeton has been uneventful, and now, as I
shall have to sit and wait for patients, it is quite likely to continue so.
Best to all the boys. Will see you in June.
S. Victor King.
Allegheny, Pa., May 13, 1901.
ROBERT OGILVIE KIRKWOOD.
My Loving and Most Patient "Pop": — How the multitudinous
successes — successes domestic, social, political, financial, scientific,
philanthropic, and whatnot, — of your glorious family must cause the
warm blood to spring with eager joy to your dear cheek. How you
must, at times, stand in some great open, and send your "barbaric
yawp over the roofs of the world," or crawl into your downy couch
at night with great peace in your big heart, and that characteristic
small smile in your face, as you say over and over again to yourself,
"He done it; he's mine; I always knew that he was a good one."
It is no reflection either upon you or upon your training, dear Pop,
that there are a few who may not be- numbered rightfully in the be-
fore-mentioned successful class. It is not strange that among your
numerous progeny there should be some whose procrastinations,
idiosyncrasies and utter lack of attainment, must often vex the pel-
lucid deeps of your transcendently beautiful soul. These few, oh,
Pop, may be reduced to one, but not to less, for I am such an one.
With most humble obeisance I kneel before your august presence, and
in beseeching tones crave pardon.
Oh, Pop ! That I were married ! That I might give you the "maiden
name of my wife in full," or rather of wives, for I see you call for
"marriages," which thought caused me almost to faint and my fifteen
cents of worldly wealth to vanish into thin air. No, I have not even
one wife, nor, awful to relate, have I prospect of one. For this reason
I may not give "her residence at time of marriage" nor may I write the
"name in full," the "date of birth" and the "place of birth" of our chil-
dren, for. Pop, we have none.
Active politics has not known me, neither have I filled offices of
profit, honor nor trust. After pursuing theological studies, which,
without sprinting, were easily able to escape my grasp, for three years,
in Princeton Seminary, I again find myself on the cold, cold world.
Two or three little things of mine have been published. They are of
such power that the last time I had the courage to read them I be-
came nauseated. My addresses have been limited to sermons and such
talks as normally fall to one of my calling. Yes, I have traveled a
little, and I will tell you about that later. You see I am answering
questions now. In the wars you mention, I have had no part. I have
not crawled to the firing line, despite the fact that I was shot full of
holes, neither have I had the opportunity of nobly ministering to the
needs of the sick or wounded, as some of the better fellows have done.
I was in a war. Pop — a Spanish war, a Spanish war in Spain. Like
the battle of New Orleans, it occurred after peace had been declared.
123
I always was a shark at history. This war was not noticed to any
great extent in the press despatches, so I will tell you about it, and I
might as well do so now :
The casus belli was of such a nature, Pop, that even your gentle
spirit would have been aroused to bull-dog ferocity. The enemy chose a
position which he evidently thought could be easily defended. After a
most careful reconnaissance, my keen military vision and experience
led me to doubt the validity of his conclusions. I was alone in a
strange land; but, like an ancient hero, I charged. The battle was
spirited, short, sharp and decisive. After some excellent artillery prac-
tice, the infantry came into play. The enemy seemed about to weaken,
so, like a good general, I ordered up the cavalry — Shank's mares —
which advanced, double-quick, in splendid order. The enemy, now
completely routed, beat a hasty retreat, with the avowed intention of
bringing up his reserves. Casualties — American, nil ; Spanish, one,
slightly wounded. I think it must have been the dust that hindered
the enemy bringing up his reserves. Be that as it may, I held the field
for two days and then departed in search of still greater glory. For
this brilliant action, my dear Pop, I expect that you will place a bust
of myself (please make it as flattering as possible, and place it in a
good light) within our Hall of Fame. Oh, yes, don't forget to have
my name writ large beneath it, so that future generations may gaze
and wonder. Hold your breath, Pop. The foregoing is only the intro-
duction. I nov/ come to the main portion of my short epistle.
For the summer of '97, I had made arrangements to manage a hotel
on the New Jersey coast, where I had been clerk two j^ears before, but
just as I was about to begin operations, the sheriff, bless him ! seized on
the whole business, and I found myself, much to my delight, with
nothing to do, and my first summer's vacation before me. That was a
most notable summer. I spent it visiting "Alex" Alexander, in Ken-
tucky; "Abbie" Abbot, in Ohio, and "Up" Upshur, in Maryland. They
all received me with royal hospitality and gave me an out-of-sighf
time. In the fall I went back to Princeton, became a full-fledged
Seminole, and have not been entirely plucked since.
Lonely ! That was no name for it. I used to go over to the campus
at night and yell up for the old fellows, but none of them came. You
know how you used to console me in those days. I ran an eating club
of about forty Frenchmen. They seemed very young indeed. When I
learned to know some of the other Seminoles and found out what re-
markably fine men they were, I became more contented ; but it was not
like the old crowd, Pop, no, nor will there ever be one like it again.
One week I took some of the Freshmen classes in English and as long
as I was in Princeton the deluded youths would take off their caps in
deferential salute. How I expanded ! How my manly breast was
filled with exultant joy! I understand now, fully, why it is that so
many of our fellows have become professors.
In the summer of '98 I went to Philadelphia to take charge of the
Mariners' Church, down on Front street. It's an organized church,
124
but mostly a mission for seamen. There were a number of meetings
every week. It was awfully hot, but the work was interesting, and if
no one else was helped, the preacher was. I spent my ten days' vaca-
tion with "Up" Upshur, in Maryland, and then went back to the
seminary and another Freshman Club. The winter was a busy one,
for I preached every Sunday in a little church in New Jersey. In
March I went to the Old First Church, Fifth avenue and Twelfth
street, New York City, to help in Sunday School and young people's
work. Later, I was appointed assistant pastor for six months and
preached there during the summer.
In the fall of '99 I went back for the last year in the seminary, late,
after the manner of seniors. I was not very well and had to "loaf a
batch" in the infirmary. Then I was elected a member of the Benham
Club. It was not necessary for me to do so much outside work, the
subjects became more interesting and, taking it as a whole, I had a
most enjoyable winter. In November our old club had a fine little
dinner at the Hotel St. Denis, New York. The fellows present were
"Alex" Alexander, "Pat"' Patterson, "Wolf" Post, "Schoonie" Schoon-
maker, "Rubber" Shearer, "Willie" Wilson and myself. "Alex" had 3
big. turkey and "fixin's" sent all the way from "Ole Kentuck." We
each told what we had been doing, sang the old songs and had a good
time. In the spring I was graduated, and after another set of ex-
aminations the Presbytery of New Brunswick licensed me to preach.
The i2th of May found me a member of a personally conducted
party of one on board the good ship "Ems," bound for Naples. I was
dead tired, sleepy and stupid, with only one regret, and that was that I
should have to miss the Triennial. Then, as time passed, when I found
that I was not going to be ill, and that I was fully able to eat five
meals a day, and sleep ten hours a night, as our old steamer steadily
throbbed her way through a summer, moonlit sea, my lazy soul was
stirred to its depths and I, at times, gave myself to delightful compan-
ionship. I stopped off at Gibraltar and went over to Morocco, where I
was splendidly entertained by the Consul General for the United States.
I saw a wild country and a wilder people. I could tell you a tale, Pop,
that would make every individual hair of j-our old head stand on end.
Here she is, standing free, on the sand of the desert, in the full light
of the glorious Morocco sun : young, tall, erect, blue-black hair, oval
face, great, dark eyes, straight nose, full, red lips, cheeks rich in color
and curves. Her generous form clad in the silken folds of a fine, old
rose, Spanish brocade, that some of her pirate cousins had given her.
The gown was not a Worth creation. It was much too low at the top,
too incomplete at the sides, and too high at the bottom for a street
costume. I doubt if there was a hem, tuck, flounce, pleat, bone, hook,
or whatever else they put in gowns, in the whole thing. But it was a
success. Pop ; a great success. The girl had style, carried herself like
a queen. She might have been one for aught I know. There she stood
and smiled in amused, but not unkindly fashion, at poor me, who sat
under a huge growth of cacti, wishing that I were an artist and that
125
she would let me paint her. You can put your blue pencil through this
if you want to, Pop, but you can't spoil my picture of her.
I went from Tangier to Cadiz, and made a trip in Southern Spain.
Then from Gibraltar to Naples, Brindisi, to Patras, to Athens. Here
I wandered about the Stadium and thought of that great day when
'97's athletes did the world, amid the applause, and under the admir-
ing gaze, of thousands. They gained many honors, but more than all,
they prize the high roosting-place they have in the hearts of their
'Classmates. I sailed from Piraeus for Constantinople, spent about ten
days there and saw lots of queer things. Then went, on a Russian
steamer, to Beyrout. The Turk who sat next to me, at table, during
this trip, had three wives and a lot of slaves "on deck." At Beyrout I
saw "Long" Jessup and Luke Miller. My! but it was fine to be with
them. They were as kind as they could be, and you know what that
means. They have both done great work at the college. It was there
that Luke Miller read to me from the Princetonian the account of the
Yale game and how we had again won the championship.
I went east as far as Baalbek and Damascus, and then, from Bey-
rout, sailed for Joppa on an English iron pot. We were light and
listed so far to port that it was hard to walk about the deck. The
screw kissed the willing deep about once in half an hour and so our
progress was naturally slow. It was about hundred and ninety-seven
in the shade, and that night we had rare roast beef and plum pudding
for dinner, the captain saying that he believed in keeping things Eng-
lish no matter what heathen waters he was on. I slept on deck, be-
cause of the heat and for other reasons. Spent about ten days in
Jerusalem and its environs and then went down to the Dead Sea and
east of the Jordan with a Greek for a guide. People said that I would
be killed, but I really was not. Indeed, I was treated very well, the
Bedawi being sometimes hospitable. We were invited to a wedding
by one tribe who had a cam.p near the mountains of Mohab. We ar-
rived about two A.M. I could tell you a tale, Pop, but cheer up, I
won't. \
From Joppa I went to Port Said, Cairo and Alexandria. The coun-
try being full of the plague, I had to go all the way to Marseilles to
get free of the quarantine. Then I went along the coast to Rome, and
after that over much the usual route, with some side trips that are not
usual, through parts of Switzerland, Austria, Bohemia, Germany, Hol-
land, Belgium, France, England and Scotland. I saw the Passion
Play, which, to my mind, was most impressive, and had the great
pleasure of meeting "Pat" Reilly in Munich and "Bob" Garrett in Paris.
Came home on the St. Paul, which arrived October 13. Since then I
have been preaching temporarily in a church in New York City. We
had another delightful club dinner this month. Same fellows as before,
except "Pat" Patterson and "Willie" Wilson, who are now too far
away to come. "Up" Upshur came from Baltimore to be wath us, and
we were mighty glad to have him. I'm coming down to Lawrenceville
before long to see you and to hear about the fellows. I know that
126
every one of us is going to do "good work." I hope that we may all
do it with a fine spirit.
May God bless you and every one of us, so that when we hold our
Centennial reunion, and the roll is called, not one will be missing.
This is a most personal and informal letter. Pop, but it's the kind
you told me to write, and so, as usual, it's all your fault.
Good bye, Old Man, Yours,
YoNKERS, N. Y., Feb. 14, 1901. "Kirk."
P. S. — I have just received a call to the Second Presbyterian Church
of Lexington, Ky., and expect to go there about June i. If you, or
any of the other fellows want to make me happy, drop in.
WILLIAM WHITE KNAPP.
Dear Pop: — Your post-card brought me to my senses, and I hope you
will overlook both the delay and the uninterestingness of this paper.
The delay in writing was due not to the lack of enthusiasm, but to
the lack of ideas necessary to concoct something worth reading. You
see we C. E.'s did not have a very thorough course in English, and
what little we had the chance to enjoy was not thought of as enjoy-
ment.
Nothing so very exciting or out of the ordinary has happened since
we all passed the loving-cup around, four years ago this June. Ely and
I spent the summer in the West and Alaska, and in September I came
out here to put in circulation some of the Elmira Bridge Company's
money. That's one thing I succeeded in doing.
I can find no fault with the way the world has been run, the board-
ing house was very good for the first two years, and now keeping
house, or rather having it kept for you, is very much better The
housekeeping was started last May, and I can recommend it fully.
One thing I regret is that Elmira is as far as it is from Good Old
Princeton. It was hard to be left out of the doings last June, hut
when the next celebration comes off I'll be there with a trunk or know
the reason why.
This must get started or you will send another post-card. Good
luck to you and all the other fellows.
Yours of the "Great and Glorious,"
Wm. W. Knapp.
Elmira, N. Y., March 22, 1901,
FRANCIS ADONIJAH LANE.
My Dear Keener: — The problem of how best to write a letter worth
publishing, from uninteresting facts, is one that is far from being easy
to solve. Simple statements of events connected with the acquirement
of a medical education make dry and unprofitable reading and promise
very little thanks — still, I want to read about every member of our
class and feel that there has been no request thus far from our secre-
tary, that calls so loudly and urgently for a persistent propaganda as
the one which pertains to the class record.
127
Since leaving Princeton my time has been occupied almost anin-
terruptedl}^ with medicine. I learned how thoroughly different the life
of the two schools was. At Princeton we practically knew no annoy-
ances or grievances, but we experience little else at Medical College —
there is nothing else to do but sink into a state of seclusion and turn
poler. Day by day, I become more and more convinced that my Prince-
ton days are the only ones of my life, thus far, that I would care to live
over again.
After the close of the first session in medicine I attended an extra
course of lectures and did some dissecting independently of the re-
quired work. At the conclusion of the summer term I went to my
home in Ohio and soon after availed myself of the opportunity to get
into the army. Being the only clerk for the Army Transportation
Quartermaster, I had to work hard. My duties consisted of all the
clerical labor connected with the issuing of mules, harness and wagons ;
I encountered the army mule, and risked my life in the service by
dealing them out to the troops. The army mule proved to be a
formidable enemy and was to be dreaded much more than the cannon
which adorned the matchless squadron of which Spain was so proud.
I had an opportunity to go to Manila, but felt that I could best serve
my country at that period of my life by preparing mj-^eif for useful
citizenship. So, late in September, returned to my studies. Atier
graduating I took the City Hospital examinations and was appointed
by the Health Commissioner as interne at the Female Hospital, where
ten very valuable months were spent. Since then I have served ten
months as assistant physician at the St. Louis Insane Asylum, where
I had a rare opportunity to study the different types of mental aliena-
tion.
One month ago the Health Commissioner made me assistant physi-
cian at the St. Louis Poor House, thus extending a still further oppor-
tunity for me to fortify myself before undertaking the terrible ordeal
of private practice. I have been extremely fortunate in getting these
appointments, and believe that, for experience, my hospital training has
been equivalent to almost ten years of private practice. I have seen
but four '97 men since leaving Princeton — Tyler, Spencer, Hurst and
"Hub" Jamison. Now I have made a short story long and will close
with best wishes. Believe me, as ever,
Francis A. Lane.
St. Louis^ Mo., Feb. 23, 1901.
WILLIAM WALLACE LEGGETT.
Dear Pop: — Every time I receive notice from you I make up my
mind to write you the same evening. Well, you know the rest. It was
carelessness, pure and simple, and I am ashamed to be one of those
who are rounded up at the eleventh hour, but I hope I will stick closer
to the fold hereafter. Since I have neither traveled in foreign lands
nor made any wonderful discoveries, I have very little of interest to
128
write you. I scarcely crawl out of the shadow of Old Nassau. Trust-
ing I shall be more punctual herafter, I remain,
Very truly yours,
W. W. Leggett.
Princeton, N. J., March 7, '01.
HARRY WELLS LEIGH.
Dear Pop: — Please allow me to apologize most humbly for keeping
you waiting for contribution to the Record, and thereby assisting your
wanderings, or rather your attempts to wander — for I am sure you
did not succeed, — in all sorts of bias pathways, and crowded trails.
Cheer up. Pop, it will not take me long to tell my tale. I left Prince-
ton, during the festivities attendant upon our first annual reunion, to take
a position as assistant to the resident civil engineer of Tuxedo Park,
N. Y., and have been right here in the mountains ever since, except
for an occasional escape to attend a class reunion or a ball-game.
Have no children, am not married, and have no intentions. Did not
take part in the Spanish War, am not a politician or an author, and
have done nothing worthy of note.
I met a led from the south, some time ago, who had been imbibing
knowledge, and other things, under the instructions of Lady Jayne
and Bill Reynolds, and from his story I judged that Lady had been
unable to find his blind man, and that Bill's arms were just as long as
ever. Speaking of Bills, Bill Jessup lives somewhere in these wilds,
but the only guide I have found who knows the way to his abode is
dangerously ill of a mountain fever, so have been unable to find Bill.
Here's to the Record, and may it be as successful as the other "tri" —
our reunion last June, which every one acknowledges was an unqualified
success, at times even approaching the howling stage, begging Dr.
Russell's pardon, "than whom there is none such." When a Journal
(N. Y.) reporter was asked last week why Dr. Russell's name was not
mentioned in connection with the new star that has recently appeared,
he said that Russell was much interested in some earthly satellites, just
now, and he had been unable to establish his claim as to priority of dis-
covery, but that there was no doubt in his mind that Russell was the
only original.
With best wishes for the success of all the members of the only
'97, believe me,
Very sincerely,
Haery W. Leigh.
SuFTERN, N. v., Feb. 25, '01.
ROBERT THEODORE LEIPOLD.
My Dear Po/>:— 'Twas the Ninety-seven spirit that imposed the
silence. For Ninety-seven's doings were always well-doings. The
years that have passed since graduation have been most uneventful.
129
On the 5th of July, '97, I began the acquisition of the much-dreaded
work-habit, the Pennsylvania Steel Company kindly consenting to be
my instructor.
For three years was I under their tutelage — vainly seeking to for-
get the green fields and the Golden Road of which we dream. Since
the 15th of October, 1900, I have continued my attempted acquisition,
under the guidance of the Fort Pitt Bridge Works, located at Canons-
burg, a small and neighbor-fearing town some twenty miles from Pitts-
burg.
Twice have I been to New Haven, and thrice to Princeton, although
I try to forget two of the journeys.
And of my other doings — are they not written on the sands o'er which
the sea hath passed?
Very sincerely yours,
Robert Leipold.
Canonsburg, Pa., April i, '01.
JEROME AARON LELAND.
Dear Pop: — Your many requests for some little attention from your
sons have all made deep impression upon me, but I have never before
quite come to the writing-point. Since leaving college, I have settled
down into a staid and sober stockman, and am having some success
and much pleasure in my chosen occupation.
It is not an exciting life, however, nor a good theme for this letter.
I see a few Princeton men of other classes, but scarcely ever one of
ours, and really, now that I have actually started this long delayed
letter, I have little of interest to tell you. Coleman, '96, and I, managed
to get back for the Sesquicentennial, but that is the last I have seen of
the class and the good old place where so many pleasant days were
spent.
Late in the summer of '98, Wiggins, '98, one Yale man, and two
Harvard men, a couple of other friends, and myself took a fine trip
through Yellowstone Park, and hunted south of the Park as far as
Dubois.
There was plenty of hunting, but no finding to speak of, but one of
our party, who remained in Wyoming until November, succeeded in
killing several good specimens of big game, and now spends his spare
time telling any one who will listen, the stories of the mounted heads
he is so proud of.
If we had little shooting, we had much and fine trout-fishing through
the Park and south of it along the Snake River in the Jackson Lake
country.
It was considerably more trouble to catch bait, — flying grasshoppers,
as artificial flies were often rejected, — than to get enough fish for a meal.
We outfitted at Cinnabar, had saddles and pack horses, guide, provisons,
etc., and camped through the Park, as well as while hunting, and all
enjoyed every moment of the month we were out.
Since returning I have been grinding away like other mortals, and
130
could not attend the Triennial, of which I have heard much favorable
comment. I have sent the photograph of Edward Akin Leland, Prince-
ton, 1919 — Providence permitting — which you requested.
Wishing every member of '97 a successful career, especially our secre-
tary, and hoping to see you all in the near future, I am,
Yours truly,
J. A. Leland — "Daddy."
Springfield, III., March 28, '01.
ARTHUR WILLIS LEONARD.
Dear Pop: — I know that you have cursed me out for my long delay
in unfolding to you the story of m' life ; that you have said in your
heart that I lack class spirit, and am dead to the promptings of personal
friendship. But if you have said or thought any of these things^
you have been quite wrong. The truth is that I have been facing a
serious dilemma — a dilemma that I have in vain tried to escape, and
that even now confronts me : that in my life which may be disclosed
is uninteresting, and that which is interesting may not, with propriety,
be disclosed. So, since I must write something — for I see the black
shadow of your threatening frown, and hear the far-off rumbling of
your avenging thunders (O Zeus Keener!) — I'll pass the whole thing up
and write a bluff. The bluff will contain a few facts, much fancy,
and no fun. It follows.
Since I left college my life has been an unattractive mixture of
wandering, waiting and hard work. The wandering led to no place
that I should not have preferred to be away from ; the waiting brought
no satisfactory reward ; the hard work reaped its usual and logical
recompense, more hard work. I trust that this will not depress you.
Of my present life this passage from Goldsmith's Vicar of Wake-
Held — v/hich I quote at the risk of seeming obnoxiously literary — will
speak more adequately than any words of mine can do :
"Ay," cried he, "this is indeed a pretty career that has been chalked
out for you. I have been an usher at a boarding-school myself; and may
I die by an anodyne necklace, but I had rather be an under-turnkey
in Newgate. I was up early and late: I was browbeat by the master,
hated for my ugly face by the mistress, v/orried by the boys within,
and never permitted to stir out to meet civility abroad. But are you
sure you are fit for a school? Let me examine you a little. Have
you been bred apprentice to the business?" — "No." — "Then you won't
do for a school. Can you dress the boys' hair?" — "No." — "Then you
won't do for a school. Have you had the smallpox?" — "No." — "Then
you won't do for a school. Can you lie three in a bed?" — "No." —
"Then you you will never do for a school. Have you got a good
stomach?" — "Yes." — "Then you will by no means do for a school. No,
sir; if you are for a genteel, easy profession, bind yourself seven years
to turn a cutler's wheel ; but avoid a school by all means." You need
not swallow this passage whole, Pop ; it does not represent in detail
my feelings regarding this school so much as my attitude toward teach-
131
ing school in general under such conditions. That attitude it expresses
perfectly.
I am unmarried; am a member of no political organization; have
published no books, nor written any; hold no position of influence in
the community (I regard my position of academy assistant in English
in the University of Chicago of less importance for the influence than
for the affluence that proceeds from it), in a word, I am a living
text for those who utter cynical sermons on the college graduate in
his one-sided fight with the world.
Well, it's done, Pop. For a man that started out to weave with
cobwebs, I have given you the semblance of a reasonably substantial
fabric. But don't thrust your finger into it too violently; it's cobwebs,
however closely woven, only cobwebs, after all. Have I got you
bluffed, Mr. Secretary? Pick out the truths if you can. But of one
thing let there be no doubts — of my unfailing interest in our class.
"And on the mere the wailing died away."
Very sincerely yours,
Arthur Willis Leonard.
Morgan Park, III., March 3, 1901.
HARRIE THEDORE LEONARD.
It may be of interest to our married members to learn that in case
it may be necessary to calm the troubled waters of domestic life, our
classmate Leonard is in the oil business. From present indications it
would be well for the magnates of the Oil Trust to look to their laurels.
He is conducting a flourishing business at 11 Broadway, New York City.
GEORGE GREENE LEWIS.
Deer Pop: — Since leaving college in June, '97, I have spent most of
jny time in New York, working on the new East River Bridge — a struc-
ture which was started some years ago, and will be finished some time
in the future. Till then I expect to hang out on the same work. I have
not yet joined the ranks of the married ones, nor have I even the satis-
faction of being engaged. In the way of travel I have done little, a
short dash to the south or to Pittsburg on business is about all. So
you see my life has been far too quiet to write about.
Your old classmate,
Geo. G. Lewis.
New York City, N. Y., April 4, 1901.
WILLIAM HERBERTON LIGGETT.
My Dear "Pop": — At last will I ease my long troubled conscience.
In doing so I will take your advice, to "just sit down and forget what
you are doing," — bad advice to a Minnesotian ; for to secure this cata-
leptic bliss, where oblivion is regarded as the "chief end of man,"
132
he turns on the faucet at one end, and then he is down and don't know
what he is doing. He can doubtless run the "Beerometer" several
degrees higher than Nat Poe's.
Since this letter will, prima facie, show that I have taken your
advice, I need not state that my typewriter is of a visionary character,
as no doubt is every one's who sits down and forgets what he is doing.
"Pop," you should have been a preacher. You have mistaken your
calling. You should have been a modern divine. Your six-page, printed
letter betraj^s a pregnant verbosity prerequisite for those who soothe the
aching void, called the conscience, with a jug full of effervescence and
three drops of pure stimulants. Moreover, you have the patience of
Job, the persistence of a book agent and the determination of a mule.
What have I done to "multiply, increase and replenish" the honor and
glory of '97, and consequently of old mother Princeton — nothing,
absolutely nothing. Where is the man who can show a record with
as much modesty as that? Absolutely nothing. You know, "Pop,"
that I was never given to boasting and advertising myself. I never
went up as a sky-rocket and came down a charred piece of paste board.
I never even shone at night as a star of Old Nassau, but was always a
son. I was always unassuming, and humility was my saving virtue.
I invariably took off my hat to my superiors — during my freshman
year.
Absolutely nothing — I can prove it. I was the first of our class
after passing final examination to, take unto myself a helpmeet. But
what did that amount to? Every mother's son of them will get mar-
ried as soon as they find a girl who is willing. Then again, besides
never boasting about myself, — for, as you see, a man who has done
absolutely nothing can't boast even if he wished — I like to be fair and
charitable. To show that this is my dispositon, I did not even enter
the marriage lists for the Class Cup, as was hinted, but I waited and
gave every one a fair show — then to cap the climax of my brotherly
kindness, I presented the class with a Princeton girl — a little "duckling"
— the sweetest little girl imaginable. You will observe also that I am
long-headed, besides charitable. I let another have the cup and others
have the boys, but I have contributed a bewitching little Princeton
girl. How could you have Princeton boys without Princeton girls'
Impossible ! This is a proposition which is scientifically demonstrable.
Further, I have not got a handle to my name, yet, though they all
call me "Reverend" here. I have no D.D. Nevertheless I think I
am fully deserving of such a title; for my calling makes me a Devil
Darer. I throw down the gauntlet and have a bout with this fellow
every day. How nice it would be to have the title conferred ! If
someone would only intercede for me and present the matter to "Jimmy
Stink," or some other member of the faculty whom I might bootlick
in various ways, I would doubtless get the honored degree.
But you will also wish to know something about where I am. and
what I am doing. You see, I am in the "great wild and woolly" —
a foreign land, to hear people talk, for half the time I don't know
133
a word they are saying. I am right among the Scandinavians. There
are very few American families here. In one of my churches there are
but two American families, the others are Swedes, Norwegians or
Danes, or children of such. The fact is there are almost as many
Scandinavians in the United States as there are in Norway. As a
people, there are none, except the English, v/hom we should welcome
more heartily as immigrants. They are Teutons — a sturdy race —
frugal, industrious, with the promise of making the best of citizens
when fully Americanized. The emigrants are mostly of the second or
lower class of their own people. But they come to make homes for
themselves — entering our country with barely enough to get here. They
have taken up homesteads, endured the hardships incidental to pioneer
life, and, by staying on the land, have eventually, by their own industry
and toil, acquired comfortable surroundings, and homes, while the
American settler, in many cases, with his unrest and speculative thirst,
has moved about from place to place and is little better off than when
he started in pioneer life.
It is not the easiest thing to win the confidence and friendship of
the Scandinavians, but when once won, you have in him a staunch,
warm-hearted friend. But they need two things — to be thoroughly
Christianized and Americanized. True they have a religion, but it
savors much of the old world, Medieval, or pre-Reformation religion.
They have churches wherever they go. But their religious life is far
from pure. They bring with them the old country religion. This.
it seems to me is the same type or even lower than that of Luther ;
for they are all Lutherans.
Luther in his reformation discarded many features and doctrines of
the Roman Catholic church, but rejected only those which he felt
obliged to. He retained much that we repudiate. You can see the
effect of Luther's method, right here among the Scandinavians. There
are strong traces of the Roman Catholic religion. In some cases it
runs almost to priestcraft. However, there are five sects of the
Lutheran Scandinavian church. One of their ministers told me be
reckoned two of these orthodox and three heterodox ; or as he ex-
pressed it, "Three were outside the Bible and two in." Now there are
many genuine Christians among them, and the heterodox seem the
more pious. But there is that old Roman Catholic idea, especially
among the older people, natives of Norway, that union v/ith the visible
church is the essential prerequisite to salvation. As a result of this idea
there is a sad lack of personal piety. They confirm their children.
When this is done they are full-fledged members, and it does not make
much difference what their subsequent manner of life is, they are always
members of church. So it is not folly for us to come in as missionaries
and present true personal Christianity. As an illustration to show how
low their conception of pure religion is, one-tenth of all children in
Norway are illegitimate. They generally, if not always, marry, and
consider this a justification of their virtue.
Again, they have the European conception of the Sabbath. The
134
best among them have little or no regard for the Sabbath as we have.
It is considered, and made, a holiday. In fact, I understand the
Lutherans hold their Sunday School picnics on the Sabbath. But the
leaven of American influence is vi^orking, and is changing their views,
while our public school system is educating and Americanizing their
children. The children are bright and intelligent.
As to the country, it is a beautiful place here. The land is just
rolling enough to destroy the monotony of the plain, and is dotted here
and there with lakes teeming with pike, bass and other fish, some of
which weigh as much as ten pounds. Between my two stations, which
are nine miles apart by rail and twelve by road, are two beautiful
lakes, known as the "Twin Lakes" — also called "Christian" and "Peli-
can." They, together, are some eight or nine miles long, over a mile
wide at the greatest width, and in some places eighty or a hundred feet
deep. In the fall until it freezes, wild ducks are hunted and found
around these lakes. Other game is the prairie chicken, which is get-
ting scarce, and the jack-rabbit. Timber-wolves are also getting scarce,
but a few have been trapped here this winter. Fish are abundant all
the year around. They fish now through the ice, which is over two feet
thick. The strangest part is that the fish and ducks of Minnesota
are very pious, more so than the people. The fish bite better on
Sunday, and the wild ducks on account of their religious scruples
don't know any better on Sunday then to come down and roost on the
ends of numerous shot guns held up along the lakes by wary old
sinners.
The land here is rich and fertile. Wheat is their dependent crop.
But this must soon change to diversified farming, for wheat does not
pay like it once did. Those v/ho are now raising stock and using diver-
sity in the farming are in the vanguard. This immediate country will
sooner or later become a fine stock and dairying country. Land sells
for from fifteen to thirty dollars an acre, according to location and im-
provements. It has doubled in value within the last ten or fifteen
years. The prospects are that it will again double in value within the
next ten years. This was the case in the southern part of the state,
and in Missouri where lands now sells for forty-five to fifty dollars
an acre, and in some cases more.
Living here is cheap.
The two things lacking in this country are fruit and soft water.
All water is hard. Fruit can be bought on the market as cheaply as
in the East. They could raise fruit here, but give all attention to wheat,
and have not time for fruit. Wild fruit, the strawberry, raspberry,
gooseberry and grapes flourish here. Also various kinds of large
wild plums and crab apples.
As to my work, I have two churches, one here in Ashby, a pretty
little town of about four hundred, and one in Evansville, a town of
about six hundred. I have one sermon a week to prepare, which I
preach here in the morning and at Evansville in the evening. I came
out last September. At first I rode between the places on my wheel.
135
After wheeling became difficult I walked down Sunday afternoon, and
came back during the week on a train, as both places are on the Great
Northern, or Jim Hill's railroad. I usually drive now, however, as
a groceryman lends me his span of horses which he wants exercised.
Yesterday, I drove up in the face of a wind blowing at the rate of
forty or fifty miles an hour, with the thermometer two degrees below
zero. I did not perspire, nor yet did I suffer from the cold, for I was
dressed for it, with heavy cloth overcoat and a fur coat over that, cap
down over my ears, shoes lined with heavy wool and arctics over these,
and heavy worsted driving mitts. Coming across the lake on the ice a
snow squall struck me, which lasted about ten minutes. During this
time I could not see five yards from the wagon. But this is a grand
climate compared with New Jersey or Pennsylvania. It is dry, clear
and brisk. It has rained but three times since I came here. The other
storms have been snow. It is invigorating, giving you an appetite like
a bear. I have not felt so vigorous since I entered college. The cli-
mate puts life into the body and zest into the brain.
I shall have much constructive work here before the field is on
equality with old established fields. I am looking forward to building
a parsonage, as there is none at present. But it will be hard work
for them financially. If you should know of any one with a few sur-
plus rocks which he would like to invest in a good cause, just tell
him of this project, and that rocks are scarce here.
Now, "Pop" it is about time to say "Amen," but before I do so,
I would like to extend the heartiest kind of an invitation to you to come
and see me. Bring your wife along, for I hope you have one by this
time, to help you bear your sorrows and share your rocks. Lay aside
the cares of your sons, and come out into the "wild and
woolly" and see this, your prodigal son. I can give you some pretty
good husks with which to fill your belly. I would also be overjoyed
at any time to see and give my best entertainment to any of my illus-
trious classmates — any time they happen this way on Jim Hill's railroad,
one hundred and sixty miles northwest of the Twin Cities. So long,
"Pop."
Affectionately, your non-illustrious, opaque classmate.
"Bill" Liggett.
AsHBY, Minn., March 5, 'oi.
HENRY WHEELER LOWE.
Classmates: — I have received so many of those dreadful postals from
"Pop" that I can no longer remain quiet, and must own up to being one
who has not done his share in the work of getting up the record.
That there are others, I am sure, from the tenor of those notices.
My letter, if a long one, would be of a negative character. As I
cannot tell much both truthful and interesting about myself, it would
have to be of things left undone, of wealth unattained, of girls I have
not married and babies I have not got. Some or all of these distinctions
136
have come to my friends, and I hope they will not miss this oppor-
tunity to tell you of them.
Four years ago I was of the firm opinion that by this time I would
not be obliged to tell of my own greatness, but now that the time has
gone by, I find that if there are to be any praises coming my way, I
shall have to sing them myself.
Business, and I think of all others, insurance, which I have chosen
as a pastime, would not bear much exposure, so of that I cannot
write except to say that I am, to all present appearances, in it to stay,
and with Johnson & Higgins, New York City, so if any of you have
any property you would like to burn down and collect on, try our shop.
Boys, "Pop" certainly made our Triennial an occasion always to be
remembered with joy, and I am sure we all look forward to the next
reunion with great pleasure.
Here's the best of luck and every success to him and all others of '97.
Yours ahvays,
Henry W. Lowe.
New York City, N. Y., April 8, '01.
DAVID MAGIE, JR.
My Dear Pop: — Were it not for the fear that haunts me — far worse
than the ghost of Banquo ever haunted the unfortunate Macbeth family
— that another of those reminders from you might, at any time, fall
through my letter-slot with an ominous thud, this valuable information
about my unworthy self would be still longer in forthcoming. So,
having heated my furnace seven times in order to raise it to the neces-
sary temperature, I will try to blow off some air of sufficiently caloric
power to suit the occasion, and to give you the history of my past
career — my name is unchanged, so is the location of my business, for
I am still at ye ancient college within ye ancient towne about ye middle
of ye State of New Jersee, the nature of my business being the proc-
ess of instilling information concerning the Latin language into the
heads of the youth now there assembled. Your questions as to mar-
riage and politics I consider an insult to myself — the one as to offices
of trust filled my me, an insult to humanity. Your question about post-
graduation, and on the A.M. won thereby. My books and pamphlets
the bluff I am putting up on the basis of one year's work here since
graduation, and on the A.M. won thereby. My books and pamphlets
are still unwritten, and my addresses before public meetings yet unde-
livered, and the perusal and hearing thereof are privileges still to be
looked forward to by mankind — the latter especially to be produced
when eggs are at a premium.
My journeys of late have been chiefly over the well-worn paths (still
commented upon editorially by the Daily Princetonian when news is
scarce) leading to Dickinson Hall, while the waiting audience lays bets
as to whether I am likely to arrive before the bell shall cease to give
forth its hollow note. Otherwise, two journeys in this and other coun-
137
tries — one last summer down eastward to Maine to rest my powers after
the strenuous existence of my first year of teaching here ; one the sum-
mer before to the Teutonic land, that floweth with beer and sausage, for
the double purpose of learning the language and seeing the show.
Being a firm believer in Sherman's definition of war, and having no
desire to serve as fuel before my time, I carefully abstained, and read
about them in the newspapers — a proof of no little endurance on my
part. Hence my time and place of service might be said to have been
the breakfast table, my rank well on toward the end (on the prin-
ciple that first come, first read), and the name of my regiment, legion.
Any other information about myself, would be, I am sure, superfluous,
any about other classmates, only rank gossip — from which prerogative
of the other sex I shall abstain. Besides the fuel is about exhausted,
the draughts blow in vain and the continuous current begins to grow
chill and will soon become only an icy blast good for nothing except
to serve as a refrigerating medium.
In the memory of the Triennial and in the hope of a succession of
reunions reaching out into infinity,
David Magie, Jk.
Princeton, N. J., January 31, 1901.
JAMES HENRY MASSON.
Masson seems to have devoted all his energies to the stock market,
so that he has none left for his class obligations. In the late disturbance
on 'Change it was doubtful for a time whether he or Harriman would
come out on top. Such display of masterly financiering in the absence
of his right hand man (Morgan) augurs well for the future of the
financial system of the country. It is expected that no popular sub-
scription will be needed to defray the expenses of future reunions.
HENRY EVERETT MATTISON.
My Dear "Pop": — "Will you step into the breach?"
With these words ringing in my ears, I proceed to rouse myself
from my lethargy and "take my pen in hand" to write that letter for
which there has been an even greater demand than there was for that
copy of the "Tiger" which was suppressed by the faculty in our junior
year. Who said "rubber" ?
So I am to be one of the immortal "twenty-five to break the record.''
Well, it's fine that we are going to do it, but I feel quite ashamed that
I should have been so tardy about getting my letter in. However,
after being told at divers times by "Red" Gulick, "Burt" Miller, "Eph"
Williams, Arthur Kennedy, "Puss" Balken, "Davie" Magie and Percy
Colwell that I was a disgrace to the class, the finest specimen of the
genus "lobster" extant, and a few other awful things, and after
receiving ten or fifteen letters, and eighteen postals from you, I have
really seen my duty and have done it, and here it is. I hope it won't
do anybody else before he finishes it.
I had always understood that the purpose of a triennial letter was to
138
tell of the success achieved, the conquests made, the travels taken and
the fortunes amassed during those three years. If such be the cast
I shall have to break sharply away from precedents of that sort, for
no such tale is mine. My story will not glow with excitement, nor lead-
the rapt attention of the reader to those heights from which one ob-
tains rosy visions of the future.
I am neither engaged, married, nor a widower.
My travels have been confined to two trips to Florida, during the
winters of '98 and '99, which were most enjoyable.
I have not charged through the leaden hail and driven the Spaniard
back to "Old Madrid," or the Filipino "back to the shrubbery."
I have not solved the fourth dimension, neither have I piloted a log
raft down the Mississippi, nor edited a Hebrew newspaper at New^
Orleans.
In a literary way I have done nothing except to offer to give Charlie
Dunn some back numbers of the "Tiger" for the Princeton Club of
New York. You can search me if there's anything literary about that.
In fact, my story is a negative one. There are lots of things I haven't
done, law being a long lane and requiring all of one's time.
However, there is one thing I have realized more and more through
the years that have passed since that last evening when the loving-cup
went round among us as we sat gathered together as an entire class
for the last time. It is summed up in these two words :
PRINCETON FOREVER!
You remember the words of Colonel Sapt in "The Prisoner of
Zenda ;" "As a man grows old he believes in fate" ? My version is :
As a Princeton man grows older he believes in Princeton. Not that
he has not always believed in her. Not at all.
But the Princeton we now know is in many respects far different
from the Princeton we knew in our undergraduate days. And those
were great days, too. None better.
She stands forth free from all glamour, broad-minded, liberal, demo-
cratic in the best sense of the word. Not that these attributes were
not hers "when we were in college," but they are increased a thou-
sandfold when viewed from our present standpoint.
We can now more fully realize the ideals for which she has always
stood ; we know how firmly she is planted upon the solid rock ; we
can appreciate the untiring efiforts of the men who have helped to make
her what she is; we can see clearly the great and beneficial influence
which she is exerting over "all sorts and conditions of men ;" and
when she summons us into her presence we can thankfully and
reverently say, as was said of old, "It is good for us to be here."
It may be true that "comparisons are odious," but in your case. Pop,
it doesn't apply, for you are in a class by j^ourself, so the other fellows
needn't feel hurt. You've got more class spirit than all the rest of the
class put together, and it won't do you any good to deny it, for it's
139
absolutely true. Our class would never have been where and what is
is, on top and a record breaker, if it hadn't been for "the man from
Harrisburg." If you aren't the finest example of loyalty, class spirit
and self-sacrifice for your class that "ever came over the pike" then
I miss my guess. (N.B. If you dare to leave out a word of this about
yourself, I'll come after you, in the classic vernacular of "Babe" Hill,
with a "stuffed club.")
I never was much on poetry. My only efforts along that line were
sent to the "Lit" and unanimously rejected. In fact, the editors told
me that my manuscripts were not worth returning, and I had enclosed
stamps, too !
Therefore, instead of bursting forth into anything original as "Lady"
Jayne on Class Day did about my roommate "Nate" Smyser, I simply
send you the following lines with the endorsement, "Them's my senti-
ments," upon them:
"Dear fellow, v/hen our college days are over,
These happy, happy days,
And we, by unrelenting fate divided,
Pursue our different ways,
Then shall this spark of friendship ever glowing
Conceive external life;
Lighting our pathway, as we struggle onward,
'Mid toil and strife.
"Dear fellow, Alma Mater's sacred name
A talisman shall be,
A bond of union binding us together
For all eternity.
Life's sands run low, the ranks grow thin and thinner
Grief gathers fast, and care.
Once more, dear fellow, here's to Alma Mater,
Our mother fair!"
Faithfully yours,
Harry E. Mattison.
New York City, N. Y., April 27, '01.
BURTON ROCKWOOD MILLER.
My dear Pop: — I feel so sure that you are going to send your first
batch of gentle reminders on January 2 that I feel compelled at least
to "pole" up a little for my Triennial (thank Heaven! not annual)
letter. And first of all let me begin this epistle according to the ap-
proved style which, to my mind, contains the most real feeling in the
fewest words.
Dear Classmates: — To one and all I send a sincere, friendly greeting.
If you want to hear from me half as much as I want to hear from
each one of you I should feel flattered indeed. But do not expect to
140
find this humble letter any modern historical novel, any zigzag journey
in Europe or America, or even in the dead of night. There are others
who, with vivid word painting, can, if they will, give you letters of this
school. Not at all. This letter might better be called "The Short and
Simple Annals of the Poor School Teacher." Yet not so "poor" after
all, perhaps, with the consciousness of a noble Princeton heritage and
the wealth of memories it bestows.
On leaving Princeton in June, 1897, I intended entering a certain
manufacturing business which was then organizing. Accordingly, of
course, I spent the summer quite pleasantly in the country and at the
seashore. During the fall, more delays in the organization kept oc-
curring and so I continued to loaf (the only adequate term) till
February, with the exception of a month, December, with Simons
Brothers & Co., silversmiths. Then, in order to keep myself more
out of mischief and less out of pocket, I began to work for my father
in the Henry F. Miller & Sons' Piano Company, remaining with him
till November, 1898, when I finally decided to wait no longer for this
manufacturing business, which, like a will-o'-the-wisp, had, after
countless delays in starting up, at last settled in San Francisco. So I
left the piano company and commenced what, at present, I intend to
make my life work — teaching. For two years I taught at the German-
town Academy, the school which I had attended as a boy, and this
winter I am engaged in private tutoring and teaching at a studio in the
Weightman Building, in association with Mr. Philip H. Goepp, a
Harvard man. We expect to send some boys to Princeton next fall.
To the purely educational work I add instruction on the banjo,
mandolin and guitar, and am leading several musical clubs, one of
them (Shades of Evelyn College!) in a girl's boarding school.
Now for the answers to the list of interrogations which, like a duti-
ful boy, I returned (properly filled out) so long ago that I have well-
nigh forgotten the questions themselves. But I remember No. i.
"Where do you live?"
Answer: "At home, 4012 Spruce street, Philadelphia, with my par-
ents."
This cunning and adroit reply serves to answer a host of lesser in-
quiries which, if one once admits that he is married, come swarming
about his ears. Hence, I need not bother myself or any of you with
rapturous elucidations regarding wife, date, place, maiden name, color
of eyes, size of feet, opinion of her worse sixteenth, classified list of
children, birthdays, names, first teeth, bright juvenile remarks, mar-
vellous manifestations of intelligence, which undoubtedly prove the
theory of heredity on the paternal side, and other intensely important
details.
I shall now take a long breath, push the typewriter back to zero and
announce that I am a member of The American Academy of Political
and Social Science, and have often addressed — the treasurer thereof.
While the gentle and flabbergasted reader is slowly recovering from
this frivolous remark, I will also mention that whereas, I am a mem-
141
ber of the successful Princeton Club of Philadelphia, I have by no
means given up my active and loyal interest in the famous Princeton
organizations — The Pa Ha Club, The Dodo Club, The Fool Club, The
Two O'clock Club, and The Patton Club.
I belong to an amateur orchestra in which I play one bass drum,
three kettle drums, two cymbals, one triangle, one tambourine, one
glockenspiel, containing sixteen and one-half separate and distinct
bell-like tones ; one magnificent pitch-pipe, which huskily breathes the
dulcet notes of A and C, and beats Hades generally.
I am a member of the Germantown Academy Dramatic Club, whose
stage manager has, for the last two years, decreed that I should stalk
the boards incased — no, that isn't the word — eternally rammed,
jammed and dammed, "good measure, pressed down, running over,"
into a 13 (unlucky number) inch corset, meanwhile enduring this
torturing embrace of the Iron Miaiden with a smile worthy of Morley
Hitzrot and gasping out the lines assigned by a trusting playwright
to Mrs. Malaprop or Georgiana Tidman.
In politics I am an indigent payer of poll taxes and a sovereign
voter for the lesser evil. A bas Quay.
I profit by mistakes (of my pupils). I am honored by an occasional
letter from a classmate, and I am trusted (vide supra) in a girl's
boarding school.
I have v/ritten one short story of happy days in college (published
in school magazine) entitled, "Who Got the Interest?" and I have
gathered more than sufficient data for a new story entitled, "Who Got
the Frost?"
I have delivered several addresses before literary clubs — and run.
I have safely journeyed through Wanamaker's on December 24. I
have been to the top of the Land Title Building. I have been to Bos-
ton, the proud city of my insignificant birth, and every time that I
could get the time and money I have been to Princeton, N. J., and I
have been happy.
Also : I have been writing much more than I intended or anyone
can wade through, and will, therefore, stop — with best wishes to the
class for a very Happy New Year. Sincerely yours,
Philadelphia, Pa., Dec. 31, 1900. Burt Miller.
JOSEPH WALTER MILLER.
My Dear Classmates: — I was unable to get down to the reunion
last June, owing to the fact that Presbytery met that week and I had
to come before it for examination for ordination. There never was a
much more disappointed fellow — for I had planned for that great event
a long time ahead, and then to have it upset just as I was to realize
the anticipated good time, was no small disappointment. But the
path of duty had to be followed, and the path of pleasure sacrified, I
went to Presbjrteryandwas passing my examinations and going through
the other things necessary to becoming a full-fledged minister, while
142 of my classmates were having one of the best of times in the old
142
happy stamping-ground. But I have passed that Jordan, and I have
the satisfaction of knowing that there are no more necessary waters
of that kind to be passed through.
I wished that I had seen you last June as I commenced to write to
you, for I feel sure I could write a better letter.
Well, now as to my whereabouts since graduation. I spent the
summer of '97 at Lake Mahopac, in a boys' camp, doing some tutoring
to fill in the time and the pocketbook. It was a most enjoyable sum-
mer.
In September I commenced my course at Auburn Theological Semi-
nary, Auburn, N. Y., which course I completed "in a satisfactory man-
ner," according to the words of the diploma. I wasn't satisfied with
what I had accomplished, but was more than satisfied with what the
faculty had tried to get me to do. It is the best seminary in the land
and you fellows who are married and will soon have sons who may
want to study for the ministry, be sure to send them to Auburn.
The summers of '98 and '99 were spent endeavoring to fill the position
of pastor at a place called Onondaga Hill, just outside of Syracuse,
N. Y. I was there initiated into the work of the ministry, and had
my first taste of the joy of that work.
June I, 1900, I became assistant pastor in Schenectady of the First
Presbyterian Church, of which church Dr. A. Russell Stevenson is
pastor.
I have had a very busy year meeting the "wide, wide world" with all
its many demands and difficult problems to be solved. I shall be here
in Schenectady until June i, 1901, after which time you will have to
inquire of our most worthy secretary as to my whereabouts.
I have continued to be in good health and am about the same weight
as when in college. I can still break into a full run when necessary,
especially when late in keeping an engagement. I learned one thing
in the Theological Seminary at which you will be surprised. I can
play baseball now. Made the seminary nine and have become so fond
of the game that I expect to play baseball as long as I am able to run
bases. About the only thing that I ever succeeded in doing while in
college in the way of baseball, you will recall, was to bat the ball
through one of the windows in Edwards Hall.
If any of you come' to Schenectady, N. Y., be sure to look me up.
I am at 34 Park avenue. I have no wife to help me entertain you,
but then we never needed wives while in Princeton, so come and I
will give you a good old bachelor reception.
Very sincerely,
Joseph W. Miller.
Schenectady, N. Y., Feb. 15, 1901.
LUCIUS HOPKINS MILLER.
My Dear "Pop": — It is only my warm desire to help you send to
the printer as many pages as you promised him, and the feeling that
every other man in the class expects me, being the "other fellow," ta
143
write a full letter, that induces me to spin this out into anything
longer than a few-line, bare-and-bald statement of facts.
When I left Princeton after commencement I stood in the rear of
the train trying to see the old familiar things, but I didn't see them.
I couldn't. It was cold comfort to think that I was coming back in
the fall to fill the miserable role of a P. G. That was the idea I then
had of P. G., and while there are still some inklings of that under-
graduate idea in my "mental image" of the type, I must confess to a
very great and really glorious disillusioning during my two P. G.
years.
Then I had the opportunity and privilege, because of my position
as secretary of the Philadelphia Society, of becoming acquainted with
all the men in college from the seniors to the freshmen, and it rejoiced
my Princeton heart to see the fine specimens of manhood that entered
each year to take up and carry on the work laid down not long before by
our own class.
There is a joy within me that will never leave me, and it came from
those two years of happy work among those splendid fellows in the
dearest place on earth. Then I learned better than ever before that
college is more than class, that Princeton is greater than '97, and that
'97 is the grand class that she is to-day, only because she saw this fact
more clearly than most classes and had the ability to realize her ideal
in more spheres of action than are within the wildest dreams of
ordinary classes.
During the summer of 1899 I was busy making preparations for my
three years' "sojourn in the Orient," and on the 1st of September set
out from New York — but not alone, as I had expected. At the last
moment Ted Balken decided that a sea trip would be good for his
declining health, and came along to see that I got safely into turkey
(don't spell it with a capital "t," boys!).
In London we met "Tod" Sloan and Bob Garrett, and from Paris
to Beyrout, what with Prentice '92, Bob Garrett and Ted Balken, it
was Princeton enough.
When we got to Athens we had everything our own way. Upon
entering the harbor of the Piraeus, all the whistles blew and the flags
dipped and the bands played "Lo ! the Conquering Hero Comes !"
From the Piraeus to Athens was one triumphal procession. In Athens
Bob had great difficulty in refusing presents of photographs of him-
self, taken at the Stadium, in the very act, and having "Disco-Bobalos"
printed at the bottom.
I don't know what an Athenian looks like. I've never seen the face
of one except once when I got away from where Bob was. At all
other times you might have taken them for Moslems at prayer. But
I saw the place where "our Bobs" "done it" and then was ready to
depart in peace.
After sniffing around Smyrna and Constantinople a bit — and you
can get sniffs of almost anything you may wish or even imagine in
those places — we reached Beyrout on October i, in a broiling sun and
144
black Derby hats, to be welcomed most warmly by Long Fred Tessup-
just as long and just as everything else, with a modest hirsute append-
age on his upper lip to show for his two years' absence from us
In a few days college commenced, but for most of last year I was
hardly able to decide whether it was the Syrian Protestant College or
Princeton, with so much of "Hello, Ted Balken ! Hullo, Fred Jessup »
Hullo, Bob Garrett! Stick your head out! Stick it in again t"
After getting me well started, "Puss" left for home, much tanned
from head to foot from daily lying on the sandy shore of the "blue
blue sea with little to cover him but sunbeams and zephyrs Bob'
having made several trips into the heart of the country to "squeeze"-
think of It, gentlemen !-stones! ! having drunk of the Euphrates, paid
his respects to old St. Simeon Stylites, and made a map of the country
for which all muleteers and cameleers will ever execrate his name-
for now they have no chance to lie to travelers about distances between
places-returried to the land of the faithful. At the end of the year
l^red followed, and I was alone.
The work here is intensely interesting and inspiring, and what with
Syrians, Jews, Armenians, Persians, Greeks, "Barbarians" and others
and every phase of religious belief from that of the Druses to Protes-
tantism, one IS apt to obtain a broader view of life in general
Eastern Students are, as a rule, very lovable fellows, and one finds
dealing with them a pleasant task. But they have their weaknesses
as well as their strong points. One of their strong points is "boot-
!< f ,„ ^°*^ persistency and ingenuity they can "out boot" and
out hck and "out-boot-lick" the most successful "boot-licker" that
ever pulled on the "latch string that is always hangin- out "
In closing I wish to express my deep appreciation of the loving
thought that prompted the sending of that telegram from the Triennial
Reunion to us who were in Beyrout.
I trust 'ere long to come back to shake the hand and slap the
shoulder of every single mother's son of you-worthy sons of the best
daughter among all the daughters of the best mother among all the
Alma Maters of America. Affectionately yours
Beyrout, Syria. March 15, 1901. L_ H. Miller.
ANDREW MILLS, JR.
Dear Secretary:— I hasten to write this letter, so that it may re-
place the one sent at the first alarm. That one was written in a
moment of deep, despondent dejection. I was between two fires I
did not wish to cost you any more postage, and I did not want to
write. So I turned on a few cubic feet of "hot air," which un
fortunately, was unfit for publication, that is if the writer wished to
keep up a reputation for sense.
Unlike many of our glorious class I have had no adventures of
any kind. I did not go to war, I have not had any troubles and I
have not amassed a fortune. I have not even made a turn on the
14s
Stock Exchange. So you see I am again In the sad predicament of
having nothing to say, and not knowing how to say it.
Upon leaving Princeton I did as several other members of the class
did, started in on Wall Street, and to show that I did not start any
lower than some others, on the ladder of fame and success, I will
state that nearly every morning I used to encounter one of the ex-
clusives of the class getting the morning mail for his office. To avoid
all misunderstanding I will here acknowledge that I was upon very
much the same errand myself.
Cleaning ink wells also gave me a wider view of life, for I held that
job for a few months. The longer I live, the more I realize how
young, giddy and inexperienced we are upon graduation, in spite of
the old song which describes us, when in our last year, as "the grave
old seniors."
Many of our men are married, more are on the road to fame as
lawyers, ministers or physicians. In fact, one member of the class
will be famous as a faith healer. I mention this because I fear that he
may be too modest to claim the glory of his achievement.
I am none of these things ; but I will hope that some day I may
come into prominence of which none of you will be ashamed.
Yours for '97,
New York City, N. Y., April 30, 1901. Andrew Mills, Jr.
THOMAS SUMPTION MINKER.
Doubtless the cares of a large parish, particularly exacting on ac-
count of the imperative demands made upon him by the fair members
of his flock, as well as the subtleties of theology, have so occupied the
mind of Minker that his interest in the convivial companions of his
foi-mer days is on the wane. Such indifference will bring its painful
reward and unless a regeneration is effected we fear there will be one
more goat in the day of the final division. Repent, sinner, ere it be too
late.
RICHARD LEVIN MITCHELL.
Dear Keener: — In reply to your favor, requesting an outlined sketch
of my different movements since leaving college, would explain that I
have nothing of any great importance to report. I have simply been
living the life of an ordinary American citizen.
My business career started in the grain line, but, feeling that that
branch of mercantile life did not come within the range of any special
ability possessed by your humble servant, I made a change in July, 1896,
and connected with the Pratt Food Company of Philadelphia, Pa., with
whom I have been associated ever since, at the present time having
charge of the general correspondence.
On October 11, 1898, I had the nerve to take unto myself a wife, but
up to the present time have not been blessed v/ith any offspring.
My traveling has been limited, in view of the fact that my business
duties have confined me very closely, with the exception of a short
146
period during the summer, when it has been my pleasure to indulge in
my favorite sport, fishing, every summer making it a special order of
the programme to take a trip down the Delaware Bay for that pur-
pose, sometimes meeting with good, and sometimes with bad luck. I
know that the relating of all fishing experiences is looked upon more
or less suspiciously, so consider it to my own benefit, and my hope of
Heaven, not to go into any detail regarding same.
Hoping the above will give you and the rest of the fellows a general
idea of what my existence has been during the past few years, I remain,
Sincerely yours,
R. L. Mitchell.
Philadelphia, Pa., May 13, 1901.
WILLIAM ELPHINSTONE KEITH MITTENDORF.
Dear Classmates: — Since I left you and the good old campus, and all
the other good things, some seven years ago, I have spent my time
at medicine, and put in "four very hard years" at the Medical School
of Columbia, in New York City, and as my home was in the same
town, lived a quiet and righteous life and worked hard, with, of course,
some slight vacations from both. Then, almost as soon as I was
graduated, and had time to see Old Nassau win the baseball champion-
ship at New York, and dance around the diamond, I was fortunate
enough to get an assistant surgeonship in Uncle Sam's army, was
ordered on board the hospital ship "Missouri," and soon after set sail
for Santiago, and, of course, began my army career by getting
gloriously seasick off Cape Hatteras. A doctor sick always appeals
to my sense of humor anyway, and we were all sick, too ! — ten doctors !
and the Lord knows how many of our corps, I don't !
After this little relaxation we set to work again and put our ship in
order and got into Santiago Harbor all ready for the sick. Then a
little surprise came to me, personally ; coming on board one afternoon
an orderly reported fifty sick men, in my ward, the first we had. I went
down and you can imagine my feelings, just out of college, when all
fifty acknowledged frankly that they had yellow fever. My first im-
pulse was to run, but I soon got over that. We made several more
trips like that to Cuba and Porto Rico, and took back between 300
anud 350 sick, each trip. It was a big contract.
After six months I resigned, as the trouble was over, and spent the
following spring down South, shooting and finding out how really
nice the Southerners are. Of course I escaped all Hobsonizing, which
by the way is a regular word here in Europe now. Then I set out
for Europe, after a couple of months in a New York eye hospital, to
study the eye over here, and to see something.
I spent last year in Berlin, Wurtzburg, Vienna, Budapest and Ham-
burg; but if any of you have time to spare go to Budapest — it lies
all over Paris or any other place ! Then I went back to New York for
a month, and came back to Hamburg and started up north and saw
Copenhagen, Stockholm, Finland and St. Petersburg, where I had
147
chills even if it was August; then I went to Christiania, and to Paris,
where I have been studying, not only the medical, but also the Parisi-
enne eye, and the language, and by the time you read this I shall
be in London.
As I expect to see every country in Europe and come back home
by way of San Francisco, it will be a long time before I can see
another game like that one in June, 1900, and be again with you all. I
am with you all in spirit very often.
Your sincere classmate,
Wm. K. Mittendorf.
Paris, Jan. 30, 1900.
DUNCAN MACKAY MOORE.
My Dear Pop: — I know that in this world apologies don't go for in-
excusable delinquencies. I'm sorry, for if they did I'd overwhelm you
with them. That's the way I feel in the matter.
"Send your letter," you say. Heavens ! Pop, do you realize what
would follow my obeying your authoritative command? 'Twould go
in the Record, wouldn't it, side by side with those of boys who, since
we scattered in '97, have done something or seen something, or been
somewhere, or worse still, perhaps, who are happy in possessing che
art of doing such things well? Hence, my diffidence, for I have a
fitting sense of the barrenness of my story.
One year in Cambridge and another in New York were devoted (?)
to the study of the law. Then the better part of a twelvemonth I
spent in the serene calm beyond the cold Cascades. Returning to the
Windy City, upwards of a year ago, I settled down to practice. To
recount the incidents of my doings since coming here would be to in-
flict upon you the trite but realistic tale of a young lav/ytr'o stru^jglc.^.
And so I shall save you the annoyance, though I have reason to be-
lieve, dear Pop, that your patience is boundless.
Had I, as have some of the boys, been beyond the seas seeking pleas-
ure, or pursuing Filipinos, then I should certainly embrace this op-
portunity and indulge my fondness for "reminiscing." But having done
nothing of the sort, I can do no better than close, so that you may read
the letters of those who have.
Wishing you abundant happiness and success commensurate with
your efforts, I am, Ever thine,
Duncan Moore.
Chicago, III., March 19, '01.
EDWIN MOORE
Dear Pop: — Can't you send me some more sample letters to help me
compose one? I don't know what to write and I have lost or mislaid
the samples you sent last November. About what do you expect us to
write, — about ourselves or our classmates? Personally I have done
nothing to the credit of '97's high standard, beyond keeping out of jail,
148
so far, and I'm not certain how long I can maintain this excellent
record. A few interesting secrets I know about one or two other class-
mates might help to land me there if I told them.
Since being turned out of Princeton, I have avoided the poor house.
I consider that next best to keeping out of jail.
I followed Electrical Engineering in New York for a time, but a lit-
tle more than a year ago took up manufacturing. I'm still in the busi-
ness and that completes my autobiography.
I have not yet become a benedict.
Sorry I can't write anything more interesting, but as I did not enlist
during the war this will have to do.
Sincerely yours,
Edwin Moore.
Philadelphia, Pa., March 13, '01.
JOHN TOMYS MOORE.
My Dear Pop:— As an irridescent chronicle of the strenuous life this
epistle can only come to one end— grievous failure. I have been neither
abducted, wounded by Filipinos, murdered, nor married. In fact, the
only events not of purely personal interest are as follows :—
After leaving Princeton, I entered Harvard Law School, in the Fall.
Since then I have annually made from two to three round trips between
Pittsburgh and Boston, with a few little trips to Princeton, New Haven,
and New York on the side. Finally, last June, I "pulled" an LL.B.'
On Dec. 15th. together with three other '97 men, I was admitted to the
Bar Association. On Jan. 7th, I began the practice of law.
Yours sincerely,
John T. Moore.
Pittsburgh, Pa., Jan. 24, '01.
ROBERT MOORE.
My Dear Pop:— I hope the Recording Angel will be busy sharpening
his pencil, and so forget to mark against your account all those un-
said things which are between the lines of your numerous postal cards.
No doubt if you do have to answer for them, the plea of a good and
sufficient reason will tend to palliate the punishment. I suppose you
think if a man ever had cause to break loose and hurl his withering
sarcasm and his profanity at the "lost, strayed or stolen" members
of '97, it is the Honorable Secretary of that illustrious class. But no
doubt some of us have excellent reasons (at least in so far as we our-
selves are concerned) for delaying our letters, or perhaps not writing
at all. The aforesaid H. S. at this point I imagine will begin to ex-
ercise his profanity, so I won't say anything more about those "ex-
cellent reasons."
As you wanted to know something about myself, I can satisfy you
in very few words. Nothing of very startling interest has happened
to me since we bade our adieus to each other and to Alma Mater.
Have been in the Bank of Pittsburgh for the past two years, and have
149
had some valuable experience. The work is pleasant. Dangerfield,
'96, is also in the bank, and every once in a while, when time hangs
a little heavy on our hands, we manage to talk over old Princeton
scenes, and it makes one almost feel as if he were back in the old
place again going the familiar rounds and yelling under somebody's
window, "Hello, stick your head out !"
Memories mean a great deal now. As you know, I was back this
winter; but very few of the old fellows were around, and the memories
of the past were far better than the reality. Everything was the
same, and yet not the same. The buildings, the walls, the grounds
were there, but the men we used to know and love — where were they?
Within the past few days I have heard from some of them in no very
gentle tones about "Pop's" letter. This afternoon over the telephone
"Ted" Balken waxed so insistent about it and talked in such eloquent
language about class feeling, etc., etc., that Central was no doubt on the
point of shutting us off.
Well, "Pop." here is your letter, such as it is, and may many good
wishes go with it both to j^ourself and to all the fellows I kr.ov,'.
Cordially yours,
Robert Moore.
Edgewood, Pa., April 16, 1901.
VICTOR PHILIP MRAVLAG.
Dear Pop: — You see at last my conscience has me in its toils, and I
am going to take advantage of a nice, quiet Sunday to do my duty to
good old '97, and its long-suffering, much-enduring, hard-working,
faithful secretary.
I don't know just what kind of a letter is wanted to fill the bill,
and I am not much "on the write," anyway, which last statement you,
with your "first request," "second request," etc., "ad iniinitinn" will
probably heartily endorse. However, "Pop," I won't try to write any
particular kind of a letter. I will first have a nice little "paper chat"
with j^ou, and write any old thing that comes into my head. So "we
are off" !
My life since leaving college has been a very uneventful one, and
contains, I think, very few pages of class interest ; in fact, in few
instances have there been any items of even personal excitement to
disturb the even tenor of my ways, much less anything which could
even remotely affect '97, especially in view of the fact that so many
of her sons have participated in recent stirring events ; I refer par-
ticularly to our recent little difficulty with Spain.
After graduating from Princeton I entered the New York Law
School, where, by the way, I found hosts of Princeton men from both
'97 and prior classes. I was graduated there, with degree of "Bachelor
of Laws," which I find, though a very high-sounding title, does not
contribute very materially to the acquiring of this world's goods. Still,
framed and hung up on the wall, it makes an ornament, so let it pass
at that. I was admitted to the New York State Bar last June, and
150
then went away on a long vacation, ostensibly to recuperate from effects
of hard work, but really to recover from the shock of surprise at having
successfully passed the examinations. Since the first of October I
have been practising in New York City, working hard from early morn
to dewy eve, — not George. So far I have not had to stand at the
door and beat back with a club an eager mob of clients ; in fact, at
times I get a bit discouraged over absence of visible progress, but I
suppose every young man, beginning a professional career, has his
"mauvais qiiatrc d'hcurc," and of course I am no exception, but I guess
it will all come out O. K. in the end.
I did not start in for myself and think now I did wisely. I am at
present with the law firm of Green and Stotesbury. I am not making
more than $60,000 a year, but my relations with the other men in the
office are exceedingly pleasant. My work is interesting, and a very
beneficial experience to me, and I think my future opportunities good,
so I suppose at the present stage of my career, I ought to be satisfied.
I meet a number of Princeton men in New York, and occasionally
we "drop in" somewhere and have one or two together, trying to
imagine that we are at the "Inn" or "Dohm's back room." It is
mighty nice to meet one's collegemates that way and talk over old
times ; in fact, "Pop," I find one of the pleasantest phases of college
life is just that — the meeting of classmates in the outside world after
graduation.
I meet Fred Shaw (ex-'97), occasionally, who went through the
Cuban campaign with the 71st New York. He was wounded at San
Juan, and it is really interesting to hear him talk of his experience.
The stories, though, of some of the veterans I have met, remind me
som.ewhat of some of the weird phantasies of "Burt Miller's" or "Lady
Jayne's" brain, as they appeared in the "Nassau Herald."
Well, "Pop," I have not gotten married as yet, nor held any im-
portant positions, nor done anything startling. By the way some of
the questions on those printed blanks seem, almost to smack of a little
sarcasm ; the idea of asking me what important part I have taken in
politics, etc. "Pop," I think that is rubbing it in.
You remember John Graham, don't you ? he was on East a few weeks
ago, and, judging from his lavishness, guess he must be doing pretty
well. He and "Shy" Thompson formed a law partnership and are
practising together out in Denver.
"Dutch" Gregory, "Jude" Ta}dor, "Harry" Mattison and "Freddy"
McNish are all embryo lawyers, and are some of the Princeton men
I meet frequently in New York.
"Pop," owing to various circumstances I have been unable to get
back to college at various class functions, and in a way I have gotten
somewhat out of touch with affairs, but have not, in the slightest
degree, lost interest in Princeton. Quite frequently, evenings, I sit
up in my rooms and read over the "Nassau Herald." It gives me a
hearty laugh and brings back so clearly some of the j oiliest, happiest
151
moments of my life. It sometimes makes me a bit blue, but then I
go to bed with a warmer, closer feeling for my "Alma Mater" and '97.
Good bye, "Pop," good luck always to '97 and her secretary.
With apologies for my tardiness in writing.
Your classmate,
V. Philip Mravlag.
New York City, N. Y., February 24, 1901.
CHARLES MONROE MURRAY.
My Dear Pop: — What a life I've led since my graduation! great —
society, travel, work, speechmaking, turn-downs, and the like ; but the
greatest of these are my adventures in society. Have been slapped
about; whirled around until I hardly know where to look for myself;
nevertheless the world still moves onward.
After graduation I took charge of the Science Department of Shady
Side Academy, which took about two-thirds of my time. Now it re-
quires two men to do the work. But that isn't all. Most all of the best
boys are sent to Princeton. Last June nineteen boys took examinations
for Princeton and five for Yale.
Traveled through the Southern States once; went home (Albany,
Texas) twice. Tried to speak to the Western Pennsylvania Princeton
Club on "The Duty of Alumni to Prep Schools," also made talks to
students of Whitewright College (in Texas), and Weatherford Semi-
nary (not a place for Seminoles). Have written no articles and held
no office of trust. Took part in no war and am not married.
Good luck to all.
Yours,
"Texas" ("Dean") Murray.
Pittsburg, Pa., May i, '01.
MALCOLM MACDONALD.
Information regarding Macdonald is as scarce as the teeth of the
traditional hen. When last heard from he was living at Camden and
studying medicine at the University of Pennsylvania.
RODERICK LACHLAN MACLEAY.
My Dear Pop: — I consider that I am very unfortunate in regard to
my correspondence with you, inasmuch as, more or less owing to
hurried traveling to and fro, your mail caught me here only yester-
day after having been forwarded to three addresses. So kindly extend
to me your benign pardon, and do not think of me as knowingly re-
tarding the work with which you have so cheerfully saddled yourself.
I really am at a loss to imagine how you can think my poor pen
can furnish matter to be incorporated with selections from those choice
wits, my old classmates. I blush to think of my efforts being exposed
in cold type next to some thrilling account of heroism in Cuba or
Manila, but you have urged the matter so courteously and persuasively
that I cannot resist you. Why you have not taken to writing pros-
152
pectuses (or is it prospecti?) for mining companies I cannot understand.
I feel convinced you could induce the tightest wad to invest in any
wild cat scheme. So far, you perhaps may have noticed, I have re-
frained from talking about myself, but at this point my self-denial
has become utterly exhausted, so now prepare yourself with true
Christian resignation, for the "very worst ever" as "King" Kelly says.
I saw Kelly in San Francisco a few months ago. He had been
coaching California. We had many good talks about Princeton, for
when I do meet a man from there I always endeavor to improve the
opportunity since such occasions are very rare. What a snap you
must have in that regard !
To make the subject under discussion entirely personal, I may state,
first of all, that, so far, I have not succeeded in becoming the admired
lord of an unsuspecting female. Whether on account of lack of effort
or not I leave to your generous mind, assertions pro and con on such
matters being in my opinion very bad form. Furthermore, up to date,
I am most exceedingly well ; have had and am having a good time,
and expect the present state of mind and body to continue indefinitely
into the future.
When the next gathering of the class occurs I have determined to
be present. Unfortunately, I could not attend the triennial, missing,
from what I have since heard, the time of my life.
There are none of my class anywhere near here. I wish some of the
'97 men would come out to this country. It's a good place, growing
rapidly, and furnishing opportunities without number to any enter-
prising man, and you know we always were an enterprising class.
As matters stand now I have to go nearly to New York to see any
of the old gang. I can't think of anything more to put down in this
letter.
With the hope that you and all of the class besides are happy, good
and rapidly accumulating large stores of wealth, so that coming re-
unions may be marked by generous support, I am,
Your old classmate,
Roderick L. Macleay.
Portland, Ore., April 25, '01.
EDWIN AUGUSTUS McALPIN.
My Dear Pop: — So I am one of the careless ones as usual! I am
really ashamed of myself, and to tell the truth I thought I had an-
swered your note, but now I remember I did not like my answer and
so did not send it. That's straight and no bluff. Honest, I have no
news of interest. I am not engaged, I have not broken a bank nor have
I done anything at all extraordinary. I have taken my M.A. at Co-
lumbia in Sociology, and I expect to finish my course at Union Semi-
nary this spring.
I have been to Cuba this winter for a short trip. While I had a
very pleasant time nothing out of the way happened so I don't sup-
pose that will interest you.
153
I have spent a good deal of my spare time during the last couple
of years in working and studying the Settlements situated in New
York City. I have nothing more of interest or profit to relate about
the past, and I have no interesting plans for the future.
You see I had at least one good reason for not writing, and that is,
I had nothing to say. When I get engaged or married or make a
tear, don't worry — I will call you up on the 'phone and give it to you
straight, so that you can have a corner on the news.
Your old classmate,
E. A. McAlpin, Jr.
New York City, N. Y., Feb. 21, 1901.
JAMES ALEXANDER McCAGUE.
Aly Dear Pop: — What a proud yet merciful "Dad" you must be, to
have so many prodigals returning to unfold to you their varied and
devious wanderings, and to beg forgiveness for their dereliction since
they left your rooftree.
I also have wandered into a "far country," and have seen "riotous
living."
My last experience in riotous living occurred during a strike on the
trolley roads of Brooklyn. One afternoon while enjoying the cooling
zephyrs wafting from the renowned shore of Coney Island, while I
was on my way to Borough Park, the car on which I was riding came
to a sudden stop. The halt v/as due to a bed-spring which had been
thrown upon the track.
While the motorman endeavored to extricate the springs from the
wheels, the peaceful and law-abiding citizens of the "City of Churches"
presented compliments to the passengers.
These favors took the form of bricks, bottles (empty of course),
and other inexpensive luxuries. That crowd must have been color
blind, or they could not have missed my head.
Being of a peaceful turn of mind when odds are overwhelmingly
against me, I avoided further riotous living by pedal industry. After
traversing several miles of flagstones I found myself safely domiciled
in my usual abode.
I mention the above incident to divert you from the illusion com-
mon to many persons that a minister's life in a small town like New
York is rather slow and uneventful. It will partly answer the query
whether I was enlisted in a regim.ent in the Philippines, Cuba, etc.
I do not need to go to the Philippines or Cuba to borrow trouble, for
if I desired any of that commodity, I could find plenty of it nearer
home.
Probably the best way I can punish you for your desire to have me
expose the last three years of my wanderings is to compel you to
listen to some of these escapades.
Like Alexander the Great, I sought other worlds to conquer.
To satisfy the bent of my inclinations I essayed to go from the
peaceful, pious and picturesque Isle of Manhattan to the wilderness
IS4
of Brooklyn. I was launched out to begin the organization of a Presby-
terian Church at Borough Park.
My first duty was to ring doorbells and acquaint myself with the
inmates.
The first part of the performance was second nature to me, as I
had early acquired a proficiency in the art of ringing door bells ; any
sprinting ability I have may be directly related to door bells. The
latter part of my duty, that of informing the occupants of the various
houses that they were reprobates and needed a spiritual adviser, did not
always prove as popular as I had calculated. As a result of the afore-
mentioned diversions there is a Presbyterian Church now fully organ-
ized at Borough Park, and your humble servant performs the ministerial
functions there.
Quite frequently I run across members of the class. I have visited
the Campus twice since September, and hope to make several trips dur-
ing the remainder of the year.
Wishing you a very happy and successful new century, I remain,
Most fraternally yours in '97,
New York, N. Y., Jan. 24, '01. James A. McCague.
WILLIAM HENRY McCARTNEY.
My Dear Pop: — Without desiring to run the chances of offending
you, I will venture to say that you have not chosen the calling in life
that will benefit you most.
At first, or at least after having received the fifst y;i7 letters you
sent me, I believed that the Keener sarcasm, in each, denoted ability to
fill the place of the late lamented Mr. Brown, of Texas — now I am not
chaffing, understand, but the receipt of the last 2,72? letters, circulars,
postals and anything else upon which might be printed vile abuse and
traitorous insinuations, leads m.e to believe that the merchants at
Princeton, N. J. (located near Lawrenceville), in particular, or any
collection agency in general, could afford to pay you a salary equal
to that received by Mr. Roosevelt's chief of office. If I may be par-
doned for bringing too much ego into this tardy but affectionate reply
to the aforementioned reminders that I was in Princton for about a
minute, I would say that the above advice is founded on experience —
a fool's teacher.
Thanking you again and again for your kindly and solicitous atten-
tion to my daily mail supply, and hoping that you may include in
your vespers one word for the sinner who repented at the last mo-
ment because he could put it off no longer, I remain,
Very sincerely,
W. H. McCartney.
Wilkes-Barre, Pa., April 9, '01.
JAMES McCLURE.
Dear Pop ■ — Three years have passed since last as undergraduates we
cheered old '97, and, bidding our dear mother good bye, stepped out
into the world.
155
Much need not, or cannot, be said of my life since we separated.
I embarked at once in the insurance business, doing a general business,
and early in 1899 formed a partnership with a Mr. P. C. Little, and
with him I am endeavoring to persuade my county and my State to be-
come immune from death and accident.
I have made three pilgrimages to Princeton and there renewed the
love we all alike bear our Alma Mater, and received new inspiration
for a faithful discharge of every day work.
I send with this my regards. Pop, to both yourself and all our
classmates, and my best wishes for the success of all.
Fraternally yours,
James McClure.
Pittsburgh, Pa., May i, '01.
WALTER PETER McGIBBON.
My dear Keener: — The above manner of address looks quite formida-
able and business-like, but I hasten to assure you that it is not to be
construed thus, as it took these characteristics only after it was in
black and white. Contrary to being "formidable and business-like,"
the purport of this communication is to be in response to "The Privi-
lege of Contributing to the Triennial Record" — certainly a privilege
which should appeal, through the afferent impulses, to the common
center of sensation, the sensorium, only in the name of pleasure, evolv-
ing, secondarily, a correlated impression of justifiable pride in that this
same sensorium incarnate is an integral part of the "Great and Glor-
ious." The pleasure and accompanying pride in this privilege are cer-
tainly important and well-developed adjuncts of my central sensory
system, but a large element of the emotion of fear portentously com-
mingles with the aforementioned adjuncts and dampens the spontaneity
of my effort, lest in my maiden contribution to the Triennial Record
I should inflict upon you a dismal recital of generalities and details
constituting my biography from college days to the time present.
With an appeal, to the gods who protect us from our friends, that
this production may be as devoid as possible of that element which
would make it a bore to your sensitive organism, I will resort to "time
was" and mention briefly some of the personal experience which has
filled the time between "then" and "now." In order to fortify you
against possible disappointment, I will insert here that none of my
experiences have been startling.
Entering, on the strength of certificates from Princeton's biological
department, the second year class of that Chicago Medical Institution
which is designated by the name of the great exponent and promul-
gator of homoeopathy, Hahnemann, I pursued the remaining three
years of the course, terminating my undergraduate studies in the spring
of that year, the vocal designation of which falls with such musical
cadences upon the terminal auditory filaments of every '97 man. (You
will perhaps recognize '98).
The time intervening between my entrance upon and exit from the
IS6
medical collegiate studies was most prosy, I assure you, as the student
of medicine does not soar to the lofty meanings and high interpreta-
tions of things anatomical, physiological and pathological as he gets
them in the laboratories during the developmental stage of acquiring
the fundamental knowledge of ''The Theory and Practice." However,
surrounded by the cosmos of a large and busy city, possibilities pre-
sented themselves which allowed as frequent diversion and recreation
as one might think wise to indulge in. With the expiration of the
time limit the coveted degree of M.D. was forthcoming, and after a
brief sojourn in the contiguous country I returned to assume the duties
and pleasures incident to my chosen profession, affiliated with one of
the genus medici whose practice has outgrown the limit of his personal
attendance. After one year of this association and another diminutive
visit to the country, I returned to undertake the practice of medicine
in Chicago. The foregoing recital brings us up to one and one-half
years ago. The major part of my diversions since then every one who
has undertaken the practice of this profession can fully realize, and
out of consideration for those who are still contemplating entering upon
the practice of the "art of healing" I will refrain from further de-
lineation of business interests.
Travel, unfortunately, has not been my lot, for I have made but one
journey since taking up my residence in the "Windy City." That trip
took me east, but my time was so limited as to preclude the carrying
out of my desire to visit "Old Nassau," and that pleasure I still have
in the future. In proscribing travel in this manner I do not wish to
mislead you into thinking that my marriage to Miss Gertrude Louise
Crary, of Lafayette, Ind., on the 28th of the last November, in the
century just closed, was not the culmination of a series of trips to
that town. Should I do that I should be obliged to rectify the error
and put it straight.
I do not wish to close this delineation of an uneventful career with-
out mentioning to you the pleasant evenings spent nearly every month
by the Chicago aggregation of Princeton '97 Alumni.
These evenings are entirely informal, are well filled with reminis-
cences, stories and smoke, and are conducive to the elimination of possi-
ble growing strangeness between individuals of the clan, and prove
to be small but refreshing oases along the line of march.
And now, my dear Prof. Secretary, lest I too greatly exacerbate your
sententiousness by compelling you to pursue unaided more of this
chirographical wandering, I will desist, first, however, thanking you
heartily for your kind indulgence and suggesting that you attempt
to eke out some comfort from the fact that it is only Triennial.
Yours very sincerely,
Chicago, III., Jan. 18, '01. Walter P. McGibbon.
WILLIS HENRY McGRAW.
My Dear Pop: — I believe that when I saw you last I was in New
York, taking my second year of medicine at the "P. &. S.," per-
157
fectly convinced that there was no place on earth equal to it, and that
there was nothing lacking there which a student could possibly desire,
except leisure. So I suspect that you have gotten the impression, as
you have noted my repeated change of address, that my chief business
since leaving Princeton has been traveling between the East and
the West. I assure you the impression is a wrong one, and that there
have been brief intervals in which I have settled down to hard work,
between these geographical oscillations.
This year finds me located at the Dunham Homeopathic Medical Col-
lege and Post Graduate School, which, I need hardly say, I consider
the best homeopathic institution in this or any other world, and which
I shall doubtless honor with my presence for the remainder of my
period of undergraduate bondage. It is only a unit in the big branch
of medical colleges which are grouped around Cook County Hospital,
where more medics are annually turned out, and more patients killed
and cured, than in any place I know of.
I wish I could write you that I have acquired a touching and filial
affection for this fair city of hams and bacon; but truth compels me
to admit the reverse.
There is much to compel admiration of a certain kind, however;
notably the delightfully free and unconventional way in which dirt
and holdups disport themselves, and the wholesome restraint which this
influence must exercise upon any who might be disposed to sport their
store clothes or roll of bills at unseemly hours of the night. I won't
say anything about the climate for fear it might make you uncon-
trollably envious if I told you of the perpetual ice cream condition
in which I have been the past two months.
This year I have been more than usually fortunate in finding a
goodly number of the "elect" within this wicked city, and the number
of '97 "meets" which have been held are proof that we are not en-
tirely forgetting the "traditions and customs."
Perhaps I do not regret as deeply as I ought that I am unable to
report any marriages or births in my family ; not even a change of
heart can be detected yet. But as for honors and distinguished attain-
ments, I profoundly regret that I must leave such announcements for
those whose meteoric careers have carried them bej'ond the narrow
limits of the professional school, and trust to the future to reveal my
own unrecognized genius.
Accept my deepest sympathy for all your paternal trials.
Sincerely yours,
Willis H. McGraw.
Chicago, III., April 27, '01.
WILLIAM ALLEN McLAUGHLIN.
My Dear Pop: — As the result of your last notice my mental machin-
ery has begun to move, pen and paper have suddenly appeared and my
pensum — the Triennial letter — is begun.
The difficulty is not to find ink and paper sufficient fully to record
iS8
the events of the wild and exciting life of three year's prep, school
teaching, but to provide enough material which, with judicious padding,
without however doing violence to the truth, can fill a sheet of Crane's
best.
My life has been quiet and uneventful, spent in teaching and summer
tutoring with no change of residence, with no wife and children, no
offices, no speeches, except daily exhortations to sluggards in the class-
room, no trips except short ones at vacation-time to gain a new lease
of life by breathing the air of "ye ancient town about ye middle of ye
State of New Jersee."
There is too much leisure in the life of a prep, teacher and sum-
mer coach to fail to do P. G. work, but in some way that glittering
opportunity afforded to one on duty twenty-four hours per day six
days per week has been overlooked, and I have consequently no grad-
uate degree.
Though seldom seeing members of the "Great and Glorious," I often
think of them and eagerly devour news of their doings.
As I lack the inventive faculty of Baron Munchausen, and dare not
tell a lie, I'm compelled to be content with this simple statement of an
uneventful, but busy life.
Very sincerely,
W. A. McLaughlin.
Mercersburg, Pa., Feb. 26, '01.
FREDERIC BROWNELL McNISH.
McNish seems to have forgotten that he was ever a '97 man. Even
the C. O. D. telegram failed to draw a reply from him. He is sup-
posed to be practicing law. Perhaps some one can inform the secretary
if this supposition is correct. Writs of "mandamus" and "habeas corpus"
have failed of service. A vigilance committee seems the only resort
left. The secretary is haunted by the terrible fear that he has been
drawn into the back eddy of some fearful legal maelstrom and sucked
down to depths whence not even the blast of his once famous cornet
can penetrate to the upper world. "Facilis descensus Averno."
ALEXANDER NEILL, JR.
My Dear Keener: — I am sure when you finish reading the story of
my life you will be sorry you ever prevailed upon me to write this.
Since I left Princeton nothing of any moment has occurred in my
career. I went to Trinity College, at Hartford, Conn., for one year,
taking a special course. After that year, I remained at home, studied
law with my father, and was admitted to the bar in January, 1900. I
have been rather lucky so far in getting clients, and am now able to
buy my smoking utensils from my practice. I did not whip the
Spaniards, nor even enlist. I saw the Yale game last fall at Prince-
ton, which was the first time I had been in Princeton since I left.
159
Am not married or engaged.
I heartily congratulate the class of '97 in having such a hard working
secretary. Spent most of last summer licking Net Poe in golf.
Sincerely,
Alexander Neill, Jr.
Hagerstown, Md., May 13, 1901.
DANIEL EDWARD NEVIN.
Dear Pop: — The "story of my life" would be very short and dry
reading if confined to the things I have accomplished that were worth
doing. But a newspaper man should be able to make a "story" from
almost any statement of facts set before him, so here goes.
After spending the summer of 1897 in frivolous traveling, here and
there, from Atlantic City to Wisconsin, I registered as a student of law.
Most of my immediate family are interested in the Pittsburgh "Leader,"
a daily newspaper, and without deciding whether my future ambition
was to write editorials or briefs, the law course seemed a good prepara-
tion. And through the three succeeding winters I worked at the law
books, and last December buncoed the examiners and got admitted to
the bar.
In the meanwhile I had done a little newspaper work. I spent a
mQnth at it in 1899, and had written a few sporadic stories ; and in
January of this year I went to work in the office of the "Leader," and
have since been filling the dignified position of a reporter.
I knew a little music when I was in college, though my playing and
singing were of a very elementary type; since leaving college I have
picked up a little more knowledge on the subject. I organized a small
amateur mandolin club soon after leaving college and have done a
good deal of arranging and a little composing of music for their use.
I am now studying at one or two musical branches, and hope to know
something about it after awhile.
I have spent a goodly share of time in enjoying myself. I have
been twice abroad, the first time in 1898, the second in 1900, when I
had a two months' bicycle trip in France, Switzerland and Germany,
seeing the Paris Exposition and the Passion Play.
No, I am not married, nor is there any present prospect of anything
of the sort. I did not take part in the war with Spain or in the
Philippines, nor have I been elected to the Presidency of the United
States or any other office.
I think that is about all of any interest.
Yours,
Dan Nevin.
Pittsburgh, Pa., April 26, '01.
FREDERICK JANVIER NEWTON.
My Dear Pop: — I haven't anything amusing, or startling, or even
especially interesting to write of my life since graduation from college.
A Seminole's life generally holds a pretty even tenor, though it yields
160
plenty of enjoyment of a quiet kind. I have been a Seminole at Prince-
ton since the fall after graduation, with the exception of one year.
During the first two years of the course I didn't feel as much cut
off from '97 as at present, for there were eight or ten of her members
in the Seminary, but after staying out last year I returned to find myself
the sole representative of '97 in this institution, and one of a very few
in the University.
Last year I remained out and tried my hand at practical "sky-piloting"
on the western edge of the Adirondack Mountains. Two little churches
were placed under my care, and I spent two summers and the interven-
ing Y/inter with them. I avoided being mobbed by the natives, on the
one hand, and being tried for heresy, by Presbytery, on the other.
Consequently I had a very enjoyable and profitable experience.
I was very sorry to miss the Triennial, and am making up, as far as
possible, by a thorough enjoyment of the old scenes, though they can
never be the same without the old forms and faces.
Most cordially yours,
Fred J. Newton.
Princeton, N. J., Dec. tj, '00.
JOHN HENRY NICHOLS.
My Dear Pop: — Your welcome letter, after many wanderings on land
and sea, has at last found me in the Quartier Latin. Unable to resist
an appeal so fervent, though couched in that chaste simplicity of style
characteristic of the epistles of our Secretary, I hasten to tell you the
story of my life — "the short and simple annals of the poor."
One year as a P. G. at Princeton, two years spent trying to teach
French — here I am already up to the epoch made famous by our
glorious Triennial — quorum fiii pars, — though a very insignificent
"pars."
I sailed from New York in October. After a struggle for mastery
between the briny deep and myself, in which, I grieve to confess, the
■"briny" won, I landed at Antwerp and then came on to Paris in time
to "see the finish" of the exposition. Since that mournful event, I have
been wandering through picture galleries, exploring Paris, old and new,
and trying to talk French "as she is spoke," which is a fierce problem
to solve.
I "assisted" (from the curbstone of the boulevard) at Oom Paul's
triumphal entry into Paris, and in company with some other Americans
was in dire peril of having my "crust busted in" for not displaying
sufficient enthusiasm to suit the Paris rabble who formed a ring around
us, shouting, "A bas les Anglais," and "Vivant les Boers." L'oncle
Paul having departed to the land of beer, where His Majesty, William
IL, set him up to a "Dutch treat," the only excitement left in Paris
is to be found dodging automobiles, shaking off guides who wink their
eye and want to show me the town, and finally, calling a cabby,
"cochon," instead of "cocher." That is sure to give you the time of
your life as long as the "cocher" has any words left in his vocabulary.
161
The students of Paris do not differ very much from the college
men on the other side of the pond. I've seen many a crowd of them
go down the "Boulemiche" singing for all the world like the crowd
at Princeton after a game. And some of them dress in an eccentric
way which would make a sophomore green with envy. The lectures at
the Sorbonne are very fine and are free to any one, and so the crowd
is very mixed — all classes of people and all ages attend, and they seem
to look upon the professor as a sort of matinee hero. The hero him-
self marches in solmenly, stirs his little glass of sweetened water and
begins his talk. There are no spotters and the people heave a sigh
when it's all over — so like the way we used to do at Princeton !
Well, Pop, the only answer I can give to most of your questions
is "Nothing doing." No office of profit or trust; no books published.
Married? Jamais de la vie. Addresses published? Note one address,
not published, to the French custom house man who kept me three
hours, one day, trying to get my baggage out of his clutches. That
speech alone has added words to the vocabulary of the French lan-
guage which the "Immortals" of the academy never dreamed of.
But enough. This ought to go into the fire rather than into any
book. Here's hoping for all the class of '97 a long life and a merry
one.
John Nichols.
Paris, France, Dec. 9, '00.
HERSCHEL AUGUSTUS NORRIS.
My Dear "Pop": — Well, old man, another of your endless list of
notices was recently received, and I suppose there is no possible way
of stopping the incessant flow of such periodicals and thereby avoiding
the annoyance and disappointment incurred in reading them, except
by sending you the asked-for letter. Since graduation my life has
been rather uneventful. The year of 1897-1898 I spent at the old college
(or the New University), working for my Master's degree, and inci-
dentally enjoying the Saturday-night "seances" indulged in by yourself
Russell, et al, at No. 7 No. Edwards.
After securing my degree in June, 1898, I was appointed Instructor
in Greek and Latin in the Friends' High School, Wilmington, Del.,
which position I filled during the following year.
The next spring, owing to the failing health of the principal, and hi?
consequent resignation, for some imaccountable reason the Board of
Trustees saw fit to offer me the principalship, which I, after some
hesitation ( ?) due to modesty and difUdence, accepted. This position
I am still holding and trying to fill. I was married December 28th5
1899, to Miss Elizabeth L. Fogg, at Salem, N. J. My time is spent in
close attention to business, and mostly taken up with the routine of
looking after some fifteen teachers and two hundred pupils, and inci-
dentally trying to initiate the older ones into the mysteries of "Gallia
oinnis divisa est in partes tres" etc., "Anna virumque cano," etc., and
"Quo usque tandem ahutere, Catilina, patientia nostra?" You, who are
162
also teaching, can probably sympathize with me in the many trials,
incident to a pedagogue's career. Hoping that these few lines
may meet the long-felt want, and that the "Record" may be such a
success as comports with the past career of the "great and glorious,"
I remain.
Very sincerely yours,
H. A. NoRRis.
Wilmington, Del., Feb. 25,'oi.
HENRY CHAPMAN OLCOTT.
My Dear Pop: — Your at one time apparently inexhaustible supply of
very insulting postal cards having evidently, at last, come to an end,
I take pleasure in sending you the letter which you request. The his-
tory of my life for the four years that have almost passed since we
all started in the world, by various pathways, in June, 1897, would be
of very little interest to the class at large. So I will make it brief.
In July after graduation I entered this office, and circumstances and
a regard for my monthly salary have kept me pretty close to it ever
since. I am here yet and see no reason for believing that I will not be
for some time to come. I have taken no extensive journeys, I made
no speeches, and the public press has not taken the slightest note of
my existence. So there you have it all. I hardly think it worth the
amount of labor that it took in the form of mail matter to get it.
As ever,
Henry C. Olcott.
New York City, N. Y., April 22, '01.
HORACE GREELEY PADGET.
Dear Pop: — I send you a photo of our boy. You ask me to write
a letter and I suppose it is to be about myself. That is the reason wh}
I have put it off so long. Nothing striking has occurred since grad-
uation. I have settled down, married the best girl in the world, have
the brightest boy in the world (except Livy Wescott's) and have be-
come a kind of permanent fixture in the town.
After spending three years in connection with the private school
(from which I sent two boys to Princeton last fall) I was elected
principal of the public school here. This proved to be a lively change.
I followed a man who did not believe in corporal punishment and would
never resort to it. The boys had been running wild for some time.
During the first few weeks I flogged from three to ten a day, and soon
had them tamed. Now a case of corporal punishment in the schools
is rare. They seem to have reformed.
I labor each forenoon to impress upon the youth of the town that
verbs have tenses, and that an adjective in the ablative plural cannot
possibly agree with a noun in the nominative singular, etc., etc.
Mr. Tilbury, who was in the prep, school with me, and who is a
graduate of Syracuse and P. G. at Cornell, is helping me in the school.
The board was kind enough to let me pick my man and then they paid
163
his price. He lives with us and we have a den fitted up to remind us
of college days, with all our college trophies on the walls, and shelves
of imposing works on pedagogy (which we never read).
Now, Pop, I am busy and not much of a letter-writer, but I have a
strong interest in old Princeton, and shall try to send one or two
students each year, so you needn't lose patience with me and depart
from the "straight and narrow path" if I do not send you any more
of this tommyrot.
Your friend and classmate,
H. G. Padget.
TowANDA, Pa., Feb. 27, '01.
SAMUEL MORROW PALMER.
Dear Pop: — When one's eye is cast upon the categorically imperative
questions, by means of which you occasionally seek to classify your
charges, it begins to assume a stony glare, and its owner realizes that,
without wife or children wherewith to appease you, nor disturbances
in the far east to narrate, life must have been very unprolific.
Like the ancients, I have to look back through what seems to be
several decades, now, to the golden age, but the focus is not hard to
obtain, and when, as usual, a glance is not sufficient, I yield to tempta-
tion and make haste to the Elysian fields of New Jersey. This consti-
tutes the bulk of my traveling in this and other lands.
My steady job since leaving college has continued to be that of art
student. I strive to be of the short-haired variety, and to see not too
many colors in the prism. My best wish for you and my classmates
is that you may all live a sufficient time, with faculties intact, to see
me wielding "the brushes of comets' hair," and painting nocturnes in
orange and black, therewith.
With the most fraternal greetings and good wishes to all the faith-
ful, wherever fortune may have led them, I am.
Your sincere friend,
Samuel M. Palmer.
\ Wilmington, Del., Jan. 31, '01.
ARIOVISTUS PARDEE.
Dear "Pop": — Your final appeal has just been received, and though
I have but little to report as accomplished since graduating, what little
there is, is at your service. The summer after graduation I spent
abroad, traveling with "Chappie" Reynolds in England and on the
Continent. Upon my return in the fall I joined with others of our
class in properly opening college, and, this accomplished, returned to
Philadelphia and commenced work in my father's office. I remained
at work there until the spring of '98, when I was transferred to Perth
Amboy, where I am still located.
Yours sincerely.
Arid Pardee.
Philadelphia, Pa., April 15, '01.
164
WILLIAM JOSEPH PARKER.
My Dear Pop: — After bidding farewell to college life, I put in a year
of doing nothing, then started in to learn the banking business, which
business I am still in. This I think is about all I have done since
June, 1897,
Yours sincerely,
Wm. J. Parker.
Trenton, N. J., April 10, '01.
AUSTIN McDowell Patterson.
Dear "Pop" : — In comparison with the thrilling tales of war by land
and sea, of travels abroad, and of the excitement of caring for a family,
I fear to tell a tame story — three years spent in the quiet of a Uni-
versity.
After witnessing that last, championship baseball game in June,
'97, being consequently in the best of spirits, I turned homeward in
company with my freshman roommate. Some of you may remember
him. We had the company of Abbie and Franklin Upshur on the way
to Albany, and from there we wheeled our way to Niagara Falls; it
was a delightful trip. Alas, poor Chew ! He was married long ago.
The next October I entered Johns Hopkins to study chemistry and
kindred sciences. And, by the way, let me say that Princeton is very
popular at the Hopkins, and that a warm welcome awaits any of her
sons who may go there. If you care to join the Greek letter fraternities
you will have good opportunity. Then there are social clubs among the
graduates. We of the scientific departments had an organization
known as "The Aristologists," which used to meet fortnightly at the
Johns Hopkins Club house (all the members belonged also to the
latter). Occasionally we organized opera parties or initiated a new
member at "the Zoo," but the evening was invariably terminated with
a spread at "Gordon's" or some similar place. The Johns Hopkins
atmosphere, both during working hours and outside of them, is per-
ceptibly German.
Parts of two summers were spent in college laboratories at New
Wilmington, Pa., and Ashland, Va. During my last year I was as
busy as I cared to be, with my duties as superintendent of a mission
Sabbath-school and secretary of the Chemical Club, and the effort to
present a satisfactory thesis for the doctor's degree. Books published?
Why, certainly: A monograph upon "The Reduction of Permanganic
Acid by Hydrogen and Ethylene, and a Study of Some of its Salts."
But no publisher bid for the manuscript. It was issued in accordance
with the University regulations, which is my only apology for its appear-
ance.
Now I am an instructor in Center College down here in Danville,
and of course I have discovered some of Alex's relatives. All Ken-
tuckians are related, and it's a pretty nice family, too. The boys are
gentlemen and the troubles I anticipated in teaching haven't materialized.
You ask about offices of trust. The only one I have held was that of
165
timekeeper at the Center-Cincinnati football game. My duties were
light, for in less than ten minutes we had a fine scrap on, and after
that no one thought about the timekeeper.
That's about all, isn't it, that you'd like to know? Oh, yes, my mar-
riage. Well now, didn't I tell you before we left college that that
wouldn't happen until I was thirty? Perhaps I can tell you more on
that subject at the Decennial.
Sincerely your friend and classmate,
Pat.
Danville, Ky., March 12, '01.
GEORGE LEWIS PATTERSON.
My Dear '97; — When I received Pop's first notice that he wished a
letter from me I never had any intention of writing one, but when
our postmaster came to me and said, "For goodness sake, if you owe
this man Keener anything, please pay him, or we will have to raise
the wages of our clerks," I thought it about time to be doing.
I do not think any one in '97 remembers me, as I only spent about
fifteen minutes with you all. In the last seven years only two '97 men
have ever found me out in our city. They were Vick King and Jarvie
Geer. I think they stopped here because they could not get any
farther.
I will write you a little about our city in hopes that some lonesome
man might stray in and see me som.e time.
Newcastle, Lawrence County, Penn., in the last ten years has the
proud distinction of having the largest gain in population of any city
in the United States, with the exception of Duluth. Our gain was
144 per cent. We have a great diversity of industries — glass factories,
tube mills, wire nail mills, tin mills, four large bla.st furnaces, steel mill,
bar mill, rod mill, stove foundry, engineering works, electrical and
brass works, and in fact every kind of manufacture that goes to make a
wide-awake Pennsylvania city.
Our banking houses are of the best. One of our banks stands seventh
in the United States in the amount of business done relative to the sur-
plus and capital stock.
Newcastle has two of the largest tin manufactories in the world, one
of twenty mills (the Greer Mill) and the Shenango Valley has thirty
mills. These mills were bought by the American Tin Plate Company,
and are now controlled by the United States Steel Company.
The New Castle Wire Nail Mill has been sold to the American
Steel & Wire Company. This plant was one of the largest in the
country, having a capacity of 5,000 kegs per day.
The manufacturing plants of our city are now mostly owned by the
trusts. The National Steel Company, The American Tin Plate Co.,
The Republic, Shelby Tube Co., American Window Glass Company,
are some of the trusts that control our industries.
Our industrial pay rolls per month are in the neighborhood of $400,-
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ooo. I think that this probably is the largest amount paid out in any-
city of 28,000 population, in this or any other country.
Our street railway system is owned and controlled by R. R. Quay,
They have as fine a street railway as could be built at the time. They
spent half a million dollars in the city. They made a fine baseball
park and a park of amusement, built a small lake at the entrance to
Amusement Park, which lake is used for boating in the summer and
skating in the winter. The same parties own our electric light system.
The New Castle Hospital is a thing of beauty and something to be
proud of. One of our leading physicians, after traveling in Germany,
Italy and some other foreign countries last summer, said he had to come
home in order to appreciate our Shenango Valley Hospital. He said
he found it up to date in every respect, and far superior to some he
visited while abroad.
We also have the Elmira Home for the aged, which is partially kept
by the State — a very charitable and worthy institution.
I do wish, boys, you would drop in and see me. I have just given
you an outline of what we can do for you. If you are so unfortunate
as to become "string halt" or "blind" or most anything, I think we
can take care of you.
I also forgot to mention the Standard Brewery. We have one.
Yours very truly,
G. L. Patterson.
New Castle, Pa., April 2, '01.
GEORGE WILLIAM PECK, JR.
My Dear Keener: — Theoretically speaking, I became a "wanderer on
the face of the earth" just one year in advance of the remainder of the
class. For, as you may remember, at the end of my Junior year, I
regretfully forsook the shades of Old Nassau, and hied myself away
to that land-locked college in the center of New York State, Cornell
University. I labored under the impression that the experience gained
by attending two large Universities would be of more practical value
to a man than the pursuance of the full four years' course in one place.
Well, I gained my experience the first week, but as it was too late
to retrace, I had the privilege of redigesting that experience for forty
long weeks, at the end of which I received my diploma and packed my
trunk for New York.
Fellows, they say, "You never miss the water till the well runs
dry," and I tell you that while Cornell is all right in her way, I never
knew, and never would have known, what "Princeton honor" and
"Princeton spirit" meant, had I not had an insight into another insti-
tution. It doubled my love for the old place, and I had the honor
conferred upon me, by the class of '97 at Cornell, of graduating at
Ithaca, "a Princeton man," than which no greater honor could any
man have.
In the fall of '97 I began my direct study for the ministry in Union
Theological Seminary, N. Y., where I spent two very enjoyable years;
167
meeting many men from other colleges, and especially associating with
the fifteen Princeton men who were there at the same time. During
my second year at Union I took a graduate course at Columbia Uni-
versity, in the department of Political Science, specializing in Sociol-
ogy, where, in June, '99, I received my M.A.
That summer I performed the only really exciting "stunt" since gradu-
ating (except getting married). Ted McAlpin and I took a trip
South, to the islands ofif the coast of South Carolina, where we made
a sociological study of the negroes there, who had been for thirty
years practically out of the sphere of civilization. It was mighty in-
teresting, and we received some real information, but modesty forbids
my relating the degree of success with which the world received our
sociological data. I will leave that for "Ted."
In the fall of '99, as I was a Baptist, I withdrew from Union and
entered Crozer Theological Seminary, at Chester, Pa., where I spent
one year, quietly and pleasantly, intrenching myself in Baptist doctrines.
In June, 1900, I graduated, and had the privilege of representing my
class on the Commencement stage.
On June the eleventh I was called to the Lower Dublin Baptist church,
of Bustleton, Philadelphia. On the seventeenth I accepted the call,
and on the sixth of July was ordained to the ministry. From that time
until October of the same year I was made to wait, a lonesome, home-
sick parson in a quiet country town, until a certain young lady finished
her trip to California, arranged her trousseau, and set a date when I
could join the order of benedicts, and attempt to do justice to a pretty
parsonage, in which I had been living, a lone owl. That date was
the eighteenth of October, when the nuptials of Miss Mary Maxwell
Meeker, of Roselle, and your humble servant were performed in our
home town. Since that time — ^J-O-Y, B-L-I-S-S.
You might be interested to know that the Lower Dublin Baptist
Church is a fine, brown-stone building, with 250 members, about twelve
miles from the center of Philadelphia, and that it is the oldest Baptist
church in Pennsylvania, and the second oldest in America, having been
instituted in 1688. So it has name and fame.
Now, with best wishes to each and to all, and God's blessing on every
man of you, I am. Yours,
G. W. Peek, Jr.
Philadelphia, Pa., Feb. 22, '01.
TRUE PERKINS.
My Dear Pop: — In response to your demand, I will attempt to set
down what has happened to me in the three years which have inter-
vened since we left Princeton never to return as undergraduates.
After shoving some, and being myself shoved, through the car win-
dow, I spent my time quietly at home. At the end of July I made a
trip up the lakes to Marquette, Michigan. Early in August I left for
Maine, where I spent the rest of the summer, going into the woods for
the month of October. The last tv/o months of '97 were spent quietly
at home.
168
In January, 'g8, I entered the Case School of Applied Science, where
I worked until the middle of June. In July I went up the lakes on a
barge to Ashland, Wisconsin. Early in August I left for Maine once
more. About the first of October I went into the woods, and with an
Indian as guide, made tracks for the forest primeval. After spending
about three days on the way we arrived at Ellis Brook, our destination.
This is a little stream which runs into Chamberlain Lake; the region
is one of the moose grounds. All around us stood the majestic pines
and birches. In due season I got my chance and bagged a moose. While
camping on the brook I had the pleasure of seeing a beaver dam and
observing the beavers at work. During this trip I also bagged two deer
and some partridges. After my return from Maine I continued my
studies at Case for the rest of the year.
In June, 1899, I was fortunate enough to be able to be at Princeton
for our second reunion ; on my return I made another trip up the lakes.
In August I went West, visiting Salt Lake City, Denver, Colorado
Springs, Manitou, and making the ascent of Pike's Peak. In November,
on the twenty-fifth day of the month, Kelly and I celebrated Poe's
kick at the University Club of Cleveland, where we had our dinner.
After this we collected a crowd of non-combatants, and after teach-
ing them the cheer, did our best to proclaim the glad tidings; Kelly
proving to be a crowd in himself by his strength of lung.
I completed my course February first, 1900, and set about writing a
thesis. In June, 1900, I was once more in Princeton, and took an
A.M. On my return Kelly and I went up the lakes again. In August
I left for the West, going over the same ground as last year ; from
Salt Lake I went on to San Francisco, where I saw the town and went
through Chinatown. I returned the last of September, and have been
living at home ever since.
Such has been the course of my life since I left the protecting care
of our Alma Mater in June '97.
Yours as ever,
True Perkins.
Cleveland, Ohio, Nov. 24, '00.
FARRAND BAKER PIERSON.
Dear Pop: — Wrath is evidently preparing to wreak its vengeance
on my defenceless head, and I hasten to explain that since your letter
came, a few days ago, explaining just what you wanted, I have had a
very unusual rush of business that has prevented my giving thought
enough to it to write a presentable letter on any subject.
If you expect any news from this quarter you will be left, I fear,
for since I left college my life has been a long effort to find the tag
that ought to have gone with me, stating for what use I was intended.
I tried tutoring a couple of years, but, of course, that was a makeshift.
Then I hailed medicine as the only profession, and enjoyed that ex-
ceedingly for a year and a half, when it became clear that even home-
opathy won't save a man's soul, and since then I have looked for more
169
distinctly Christian work, and have found it, I hope, in work among
colored toughs in a boys' mission in Brooklyn, with a distant prospect
of India or some other remoter district of heathendom.
I was sorry to give up medicine, but it had to be done, though it
bereaved both McGraw and myself, who were in Chicago together.
Efforts to get down to college during reunions or term time have
proved unavailing, and my only visits have been during vacation,
which is unsatisfactory from a social point of view. I hope to be able
to make one reunion before I die, but it looks doubtful if I have to come
from India for it.
I'm sorry to have turned your hairs gray, but as I didn't understand,
I hope they will turn back again.
Yours,
Punt Pierson.
Brooklyn, N. Y., April 23, '01.
WALTER JAMES PILLING.
My Dear Pop: — As you have probably forgotten, I did not graduate
with the "great and glorious," but owing to the courtesy of Dr. Patton
and the Faculty received my degree "as of" '97. However, that is a
mere detail, for as we all know, once enrolled under those magic nu-
merals no other would suffice, or, indeed, be considered. Two of the
years since have been passed by me in travel and recreation, principally
in Europe.
I am now, however, actively engaged in business here, of a more or
less varied kind, consisting chiefly of insurance and real estate. Al-
though I missed the triennial reunion, due to some unforeseen circum-
stances, I have been back several times on lesser occasions to renew
the old associations, and have generally been fortunate enough to meet
some of the old guard prowling around the familiar haunts.
Hoping that you or any other member of the class who may be in
Washington, will look me up,
I am very truly yours,
Walter J. Pilling.
Washington, D. C, Feb. 22, '01.
ROBERT PITCAIRN, JR.
My Dear Keener: — As you may know, I spent the year following the
'97 commencement in securing the much coveted degree of Civil Engi-
neer. This seemed very desirable since I expected to take up railroad
work. After obtaining the degree, I entered the service of the Penna.
Railroad as rodman on the engineer corps, and gradually worked up
to the position of assistant supervisor. I resigned this latter position,
as, although it was in the direct line of promotion, I found the chances
of advancement were few and far between. I then went into the coal
business, and am now vice-president of the Keystone Coal and Coke
Co., with principal offices in the Park Building, Pittsburgh, Pa. This
170
is one of the largest private companies in the western part of the State,
owning and operating twenty different mines.
I am not married, and there are no immediate prospects that I shall
be.
I am a member of the Duquesne Club, the University Club and the
Country Club.
I attended the recent banquet of the Princeton Club of Western
Pennsylvania, which was the finest they have ever held, where I met
a. great number of our classmates, from all of whom you will doubtless
hear.
Yours, in the bond of Alma Mater,
Robert Pitcairn, Jr.
Pittsburg, Pa., May 4, '01.
NEILSON POE, JR.
Dear Pop: — Thanks very much for your many invitations to con-
tribute to the history of the lives of the great men of '97. Since leaving
the old town on that sad June day, most of my time has been spent in
Baltimore, where I attended the Law School of the University of
Maryland. I knew I could get through before I started, as my father
is Dean of the Law School, and one of my brothers lectures there.
Somewhat of a pull for one in the family. If you know any of the
class that want to study law send them down here, and I will guarantee
that they will get through. Don't think I am drumming up business.
While there, I was the star right-fielder on the ball nine, and I
caught as many flies as "Jerry" ever did in his palmiest days. And
those were good old days, you know. I also managed to pass my ex-
amination, and received an LL.B. for it last June. I have coached sev-
eral football teams. In the fall of '97 I was at Wesleyan. with a half a
dozen trips to Princeton thrown in. In the fall of '98 I was back at
Princeton, where I saw lots of the fellows during the season. In the
fall of '99 I was coaching the University of Illinois football team, but
got East in time to see the game in New Haven. Last fall I was at
Princeton.
To most of your questions I have to say no, as I have neither wife
nor girl. This means I am not engaged. I have not delivered any
speeches, held office of profit, honor or trust, nor did I become a soldier
during the Spanish war. The only part I took in it was seeing the
soldiers off, and reviewing the Peace Jubilee in Philadelphia with
"Kinks" Pardee, whose smallness of stature alone prevented him from
becoming a soldier. S. E. Gill vouches for this. The initials, of course,
are superfluous, as I know there is still "only one Gill."
Now, Pop, I know it is not necessary to tell you to whoop it up for
the Quinquennial, as I fully realize what you have done for us in the
past and know you will always keep up the good work. But it is not
far off, and I for one am looking forward to it. We all had a good
time at the triennial, and we want to make the "old burg" know that
171
'97 is back again. Fellows, we all want to be there, so I will take this
opportunity to add as a postscript to the many letters that we will
receive from Pop concerning that auspicious occasion, "Don't miss
it." Yours as ever,
Neilson Poe.
Baltimore, Md., Feb. 28, '01.
WILFRED McILVAINE POST.
Dear Pop: — The demand of the secretary that all class letters should
be typewritten was so trenchant a criticism of the handwriting of the
class in general, and of myself in particular, that I was tempted to
follow the example of the Irish stateman who returned a letter from
his political rival with the words : "Dear Sir — The insulting tone of
your last favor compels me to return it unread."
Since the year of 1897 I have lived in both hemispheres. I returned
to Syria in the summer of 1897 by way of Scotland and England, and
then through the straits of Gibraltar to Italy and up the Syrian coast
by the Egyptian route. I arrived in Beirut just in time to matriculate
as a medical student in the Syrian Protestant College. There I studied
two years, greatly enjoying the experience of being with Syrian students,
many of whom are fine fellows. It added not a little to my pleasure
to be in touch with the American tutors at the college, several of whom
were Princeton men, Fred Jessup among them.
During my stay in the East, Emperor William II., of Germany, came
to Syria, and his visit was celebrated by the whole country in many
interesting ways. The Sultan spared no means to entertain his illus-
trious guest, and on the night preceding his departure from Beirut, the
whole of Lebanon, visible to the south of the city, was ablaze with illu-
minations; two enormous bonfires being lighted at the top of Mt. Sun-
nin, many miles away, and nearly 9,000 feet in height. The region north
of the city being under French influence, not a light was shown, and the
contrast was as significant as it was picturesque.
Syria is a land of contrasts, ancient and modern, civilized and prim-
itive, luxurious and poverty-stricken, Mohammedan and Christian, Jew
and Pagan, Catholic and Protestant. Its political future is yet to be
decided, but missionary and philanthropist maintain their efforts for
the people with unremitting zeal, and the vast amount of good already
accomplished will, I feel confident, show rich increase with the years.
I returned to the U. S. in 1899 and entered the third year of the Col-
lege of Physicians and Surgeons, of New York City, where I am still
studying in company with nearly a dozen other '97 men — sometimes an
unsavory, but at all times a happy and hard-working lot. None of us
are often seen at the Princeton Club, I regret to say; it is through lack
of time, not of patriotism. By act of bravery, and by generous service,
Percy Williams and Leander Shearer have already appeared before the
class. The rest of us in due time will have at least a hard-earned M.D.
to add to our ever loyal names. Very sincerely yours,
Wilfred M. Post.
WASHiNGToisr, D. C, Dec. 28, 1900.
172
CHARLES ELDRIDGE QUINLAN.
Dear Fop: — My story is soon told. In the lumber business in Penn-
sylvania up to 1900, then a year in the mountains of Eastern Tennessee,
now located at Waynesville, N. C, twenty-eight miles south of Ashe-
ville, with Quinlan, Monroe & Co., wholesale lumber.
Charles E. Quinlan. •
Waynesville, N. C, April 8, '01.
WILLIAM BOYD RAMSEY.
My Dear Pop: — All of the doughty sons of '97 know without my
saying it, that "Short and simple are the annals of the poor" fellows in
our merry band who have chosen the law as their mistress. It is
bound to be, for we are just now going through the starvation period
in our respective careers. Like Peter Stirling, we sit in our offices
reading somebody or other on "Torts" ; some of us, perhaps, mix in
politics a little, while we all keep digging away, persistently, with that
dogged Princeton ('97) spirit which is bound to bring us just about the
success we each deserve in our respective little positions in this great
world of ours.
The chronicle of my own experiences is a brief one. After spending
the summer of 1897 at home, I succeeded in entering the senior class
at the Cincinnati Law School, from which I graduated in June of the
following year. I passed the state bar examination by a tight squeeze
soon after, and was admitted to practice on the unsuspecting public.
Since August of that year I have been located in Toledo. While at
Cincinnati I met, often, our hail classmate from Kentucky, "Colonel"
Hill. On a recent visit to Chicago the hospitality of Duncan Moore
was enjoyed, while of course the one experience of the past three years,
most cherished was our triennial reunion. The only serious objection
I can raise against Toledo is her lack of Princeton men — there being
but four of us here, a '39 man, a '77 man, Dr. Dice, '93, and the writer.
Hoping to meet with you all again in June, 1902, in the cool shade of
the dear old campus elms, I am,
Sincerely your classmate,
Wm. B. Ramsey.
Toledo, O., Feb. 28, '01.
HARRY NORMAN REEVES.
My Dear Pop: — The pungent and reproachful epithets applied to the
group of individuals, of which I am one, according to yours of the
I2th inst., have sufficiently stirred my calm inactivity with a desire to
get even, and herewith you have the result.
This is the usual position for matters of excuse. And the fact that
I have recently taken unto myself a wife may serve in that capacity,
as well as a matter of interest. I say "a matter of interest," for aside
from furnishing an additional statistic for our hard-working secretary
to compile, that fact may loom up, in the future of some of my less
fortunate classmates, as a great source of encouragement, who, as they
173
run the race toward a similar goal, gird up their loins anew when they
recollect the fact that even "Porky" Reeves got married. And further-
more, as an additional incentive toward reaching the aforesaid goal, I
can assure all who breast the tape there stretched, that each and every
one will receive from our beloved class secretary, hard-working though
he be, a most happy and appropriate note — one of the kind that you
will always want to keep; one of the kind that makes you feel, once
more, supremely grateful that kind Providence saw to it that Princeton
University was your Alma Mater, that '97 was your class, and that Pop
Keener was your class secretary.
Now, Pop, don't you dare allow your customary modesty to tempt you
to cut out those references to yourself. I want this letter printed in
its entirety.
If I can for a moment thrust aside from my thoughts the supreme
fact of interest in my life, dilated upon above to so large an extent, I
would also like to communicate another statistic to the class secretary.
I have removed from my former sphere of business. I have come
down out of the country, and am now located in this city — address,
164 Market Street. I now run up against a Princeton man at every
turn, where before I had to seek the city on occasional semi-annual
jaunts to enjoy a reminiscent Princeton evening.
And speaking of reminiscences, I hope you have succeeded in getting
from Selden Spencer, for the benefit and edification of his classmates,
the story of his life since graduation, showing how he no longer is a
"disgrace to the family." And I also hope you succeed in wringing out
of "Pip" Wheeler the true inward history of the time he bailed out one
of his employees, whereupon the court appointed him guardian of
eleven orphans, because of his apparent philanthropic tendencies. Jude
Taylor, also, I hope, will tell his classmates how he gets the judges of
the municipal courts of New York City down on the bench, and re-
fuses to let them up, even when they howl, "Oh, my knee, my knee."
Having no news of my own, I have offered these suggestions for the
good of the cause, and also for the purpose of making my letter of
respectable length. Which latter purpose being accomplished to some
slight degree, I trust, I am, as always,
Yours for '97,
Harry N. Reeves.
Newark, N. J., Feb. 23, '01.
JOHN REILLY, JR.
The "history of my past life" can be told in a few words, and is as
follows :
When the "Great and Glorious" left the "good town," Bob Pitcairn,
George Crozer and I were taken in by '98 and made to feel at home.
George and I kept 3 South Dod warm, and Bob and myself hustled
all year for our C. E. dips., and were finally successful. '97 was in
evidence on Class Day. Wayne Wilson was presentation orator, and
said he could not leave his old classmates unmentioned, so "your humble
174
servant" was once more called before that august assemblage (not with
"Marbles," but with that shy young creature, G. K. C, Jr.), and pre-
sented with a squat little Chinese image, as a reminder of George.
Wayne did not give George an3^thing to remember me, as he said I
would "always remain long in the memory of my classmates."
The winter of 'gS-'gp I spent in the engineering and physical labs.,
and received my M. S. in the spring. That summer was spent in
France and Germany, principally the latter, and I returned to Princeton
to begin my two years in the Electrical School, which will end this
June. Last May I went South with the Princeton Eclipse Expedition,
and shortly after sailed for Germany, spending most of the summer at
the University of Marburg. Later I took in Oberammergau and the
Paris Exposition. I still hold my room, and will be in Princeton a
good part of next winter. The latch-string is always out for '97.
Most sincerely,
John Reilly, Jr.
Philadelphia, Pa., May 10, '01.
THEODORE FAIRBANKS REYNOLDS.
Dear Classmates :— Having received several reminders from Pop, al-
low me to tell you what I have been doing since leaving Princeton. I
spent the summ.er of '97 in Europe with Ario Pardee. We went over
to complete our education, visiting m.any cathedrals, churches, art gal-
leries, and other places of interest. Pard. was bent on getting another
watermelon, but had poor luck.
We returned in the fall. I entered the New York Law School, re-
mained one year, and then decided my abilities lay in other directions.
Joined the New York Stock Exchange December i, 1898, doing a
general banking and brokerage business, under the firm name of Ailing,
Reynolds & Co., where I have been ever since. Glad to see any of
you at 30 Pine street. New York City, at any old time.
Yours as ever,
Theodore F. Reynolds.
East Orange, N. J., April 9, 1901.
WILL AYRES REYNOLDS.
My Dear Bop: — After many and earnest solicitations, I now send
you a I St of April letter. It seems an appropriate day for me to write
one.
The old man wishes to know what I have been doing and what I
hope to do. Not being of a prophetic turn of mind, a la Shortz, and as
hopes sometimes do strange things, I'll pass the future up.
As to the past, if I should tell all I have been doing it might not
look well in black and white, so I'll just give you a few lines.
I might have been digging gold nuggets and playing with the polar
bear children in the Klondike.
I might have been in the Philippine Islands following the instruc-
tions of Mr. Kipling :
•175
"Take up the white man's burden,
Ye must assume it soon;
Take up the white man's burden,
And put it on the coon."
I might have been an advance agent of civilization in China, trying
to teach the obstreperous Chinaman to wear his shirt on the inside
of his trousers, or to interest him in the dehghtful mysteries of Chi-
cago canned meats, or to urge him to give up his rice and rats for
Uneeda meals. None of these little duties have fallen to me, but
nevertheless I have traveled some and fought a little. I have traveled
to my meals three times a day and battled with the world for bread.
The first four years after I was graduated were spent in North Caro-
lina for the most part. There I instructed the youth in the noble
pastime of football, and incidentally went into training for the law,
which training consists in a little legal study and much hard discipline
in learning how to live best by eating least.
I have discovered that I could make a comfortable living in the law
if I did not have to eat, sleep and wear clothes. I could manage to
€ke out my tobacco money, but would not vouch for the quality of the
weed.
A severe attack of typhoid fever made me lose a year in the law,
which year doubtless the law has not lost. Upon my recuperation I
came to Wilkes-Barre, where I opened a law office with Jayne. There
is a shingle, which reads, "Jayne & Reynolds, Attorneys at Law." All
clients with money gladly welcomed.
We thought we were filling a long-felt vi^ant in this vicinity, but we
now realize that the community has not realized it. Strange, is it not,
that three months have passed by and still we have not been discov-
ered? Nevertheless we are here to stay, until poverty or the sheriff
drives us out, but at present it look as if our days were numbered, as
the hairs in the bald man's head.
Lady says, "A blind hog will find an acorn once in a while," and it is
this thought that cheers our meals of free lunch and brightens the long
hours of painful waiting. They say a sucker is born every minute, but
I reckon the suckers have not started to run this early in the spring.
In our moments of despondency we ever turn our thoughts backward to
the glorious class of '97 and the good old days in Tiger Town.
I see that Penn. and Princeton are to meet in mortal combat over
the chessboard, and before long we will be sitting in the cheering sec-
tion and giving vociferous long cheers for the pawns, three times three
for the bishops and locomotives for the queens.
Speaking of queens reminds me that single blessedness is mine.
Neither are there any prospects, for "The girl I should love enough to
marry I fear I would respect her too much to ask her," and as it takes
two to make a bargain, besides money to pay the parson, my chances
are slim at present. As a candidate for the class cup I reckon little
Willie, Jr., draws the booby prize.
176
I have made some speeches, but as they would not look well in
print, and have been for the most part mere denials that I owed the
bill, I don't believe they fall within the proper class.
Neither do many clubs or orders bear my name upon their rolls, but,
nevertheless, my head bears the marks of many a club, and I have taken
orders such as these :
"We don't need no loafers here."
"Yes, the servant girl will feed you at the back door."
"No free lunch if you don't buy."
The New York publishers have not sought my volley of poems or
accepted any of my fiction, although I always have been strong on
fiction, as the class can testify.
Nevertheless, it is pleasant to know that some of the illustrious mem-
bers of the all-glorious class have contributed something to the literary
world, won distinction upon the rostrum, and are now educating '97
juniors in the Princeton spirit.
All hail to those who have done so well and may the gods look down
propitiously upon us who are still striving for the world's approbation.
We have made our maiden speech in court. Jayne was first at the
bat and swatted the ball nobly, and the
Wilkes-Barre Times
vs.
City of Wilkes-Barre,
Jayne & Reynolds, Attorneys,
stands as the only evidence of our practice at the bar.
All members of the class will find a hearty welcome at Room 47,
Bennett Building. W. A. Reynolds.
Wilkes-Barre, Pa., April i, 1901.
JAMES MAURAN RHODES, JR.
Rhodes served with First Troop Philadelphia City Cavalry, in Porto
Rico. He is a member of the banking firm of C. & H. Borie, of Phila-
delphia. The panicky times of recent date have rendered it impossi-
ble for such an important factor in the financial world to give us as
much attention as his usual enthusiasm would lead us to hope. We
trust that our loss will prove his gain. This is entirely gratuitous,,
"Jimmy." The stenographer refuses to wear violets and all others
are out of season.
CHARLES GORMAN RICHARDS.
My Dear Pop: — I have nothing very exciting to tell. I am not
married, and have not even been able to get any likely game treed, as
yet ; but am still on the hunt. Looking over some old Alumni Weeklies
and noticing the many laurel wreaths that have encircled the noble
brows of the men of '97, I can't help regretting that I am unable to add
something to the general honors. But it is good just to feel that I may
share the distinction of belonging to "the Great and Glorious" — as our
modest secretary so often calls the class.
177
The first year after graduation I taught. In September, '98, I came
out to Chicago. Since then I have been here in McCormick Theological
Seminary, from which, by the kindness of the faculty, I hope to
graduate next May.
With most cordial greetings, believe me, yours in the old-time spirit,
Charles Gorman Richards.
Chicago, III., Jan. 21, 1901.
OSCAR BERTRAM RIEGEL.
Dear "Pop" Keener: — In writing this letter I feel somewhat like a
school boy making his first attempt at letter-writing — I don't know how
to begin.
There is no use making any apologies, "Pop." I simply neglected
the matter from time to time. Will a promise to do better in the
future square it?
To tell you all that transpired since you heard from me last would
take too much time. Suffice it to say that I am now practicing law,
and so far cannot complain. I am a member of the firm of Riegel &
Stover.
The building of a practice is slow, but it is coming nicely. I think
•our first year's business will amount to about fifteen hundred dollars.
At present we are working on the incorporation of a town. We have
several good cases in Circuit or District Court for next October. Okla-
homa is all right. Yours, etc.,
O. B. Riegel.
Cashion, Oklahoma, April 16, 1901.
THOMAS DUDLEY RIGGS.
My Dear Pop: — If apologies are in order, let me, before trying to
give you a brief history of my last four years, offer mine to you for
being one of the delinquents.
I was engaged in the early spring of our senior year and was mar-
ried on the 23d day of June of the same year. One week after our mar-
riage we sailed for Europe from New York on the Hamburg-American
Line steamship Normania, and arrived at Southampton without in-
cident. While abroad v/e visited England, Scotland, Ireland, Holland,
Belgium, France, Switzerland, Italy, Austria, and traveled extensively
through Germany, sailing from Hamburg for home six months after
our arrival on foreign soil.
On my return I went to Hartford, Conn., to live and was engaged
in the drafting department of the L. E. Rhoades Machine Company. I
spent a good deal of time that winter working out the drawings for a
combination hydraulic beer pump and organ motor, which has since
proved a valuable patent. On the 28th day of April our "class boy"
was born. The following year we came to Baltimore to live, and for
two years I was engaged in the life insurance business.
On the 1st day of January, 1900, I purchased a 154-acre farm in the
Green Spring Valley, a suburb of Baltimore and twelve miles distant.
178
I raise about everything on my land except those crops which pay,
and I have come to the conclusion that the life of a country gentle-
man is the only true sporting life to lead. My travels in this country
have not been extensive. However, I have been as far West as Iowa,
and South as far as Georgia, and to Maine in the summer. I have also
visited the principal cities of Canada.
I imagine that I have already taken up more than my share of
space, so will close, with best wishes for all of you in the future, and
hoping to see you in June, I remain,
Most sincerely yours,
T. Dudley Riggs.
Baltimore, Md., March 4, 1901.
HENRY CURTIS ROBB.
My Dear Pop Keener: — You want to know what I have been doing
during the last three years and a half. Really, a most extraordinary
question for you to ask me, after noting, as I suppose you have done,
my answers to your latest list of questions. Nothing, Pop ; absolutely
nothing at all. I have not been anywhere nor seen anybody, did not
take part in the late war, have not held any political office or position
of trust, nor, to the best of my knowledge and belief, have I been so
much as dreamed of by any man, sane or otherwise, as a possible can-
didate for either of these honors. I have not made any addresses nor
written any books, nor — nor am I married or engaged to be married,
nor is there the slightest probability of my marrying or engaging my-
self to marry for a very long time to come. As we used to say at
Princeton, "I have troubles enough of my own."
So you see. Pop, mine is quite a negative character. I really am not
one of those who do things. I could never win fame as a fighter, for I
am altogether too great a coward, and as for "cutting any ice" in voca-
tions of a rnore peaceful nature, I fear I am lacking in the necessary
keenness of brain. So I am forced to derive what comfort I can from
the assurance that
"They also serve who only stand and wait."
For in this kind of service I am prepared to meet any demand, how-
ever great, my supply being practically inexhaustible.
But to give you the story of my life — the narrative of the things I
have not done. A great deal of work, a little play, more or less sleep,
and (usually) "three squares" per diem — if you will imagine a monot-
onous succession of days and weeks and months lived through in some
such way as this, why you really have it all. To be sure I have lost a
few through sickness, and there has been the annual break of a week or
so in the summer for "change and rest." But I suppose that goes
along with the work, implicitly. As to the nature of my work I have,
for the past three years, been giving my valuable services for a
ridiculously small compensation to the Pennsylvania Railroad, not
179
"working on the railroad" exactly, but working for it, chiefly in a
clerical capacity. Of course I am on the high road to the presidency,
but just at present I am — yes, I suppose I really am — a clerk. And
having brought myself to this confession, I am sure you will agree with
me that any further dilation on the subject of my profession would be
quite superfluous — if not inexcusable. Occupation of the nature which
I have described, while very honest and very necessary and all that, is
not apt to be productive of incident of the melodramatic variety. The
one redeeming feature about the business is that, taking me, as it does,
daily to New York, it is responsible for frequent meetings with differ-
ent members of '97, who are there engaged in the pursuit of the fleeting
dollar. Such chance meetings, together with occasional visits to the
Old Town, reminders of happy days gone by, I find to be great promot-
ers of an optimistic spirit, whenever the cares of life seem likely to
"o'ertake me." And then I have that other great source of comfort,
the Alumni Weekly.
And this, Mr. Secretary, is all that I have to tell you, and I think I
can hear you saying, "It's quite enough." I realize fully that such
trivialities as I have here recorded can hardly add to the attractiveness
of the Record, and I beg to assure you that had I been ruled by my
inclinations, not one word of it would I have written. But having re-
ceived your warning that you would be satisfied with nothing less than
a letter from every man in the class, I could do nothing but submit.
So here you have the result. Very sincerely yours,
Harry C. Robb.
Newark, N. J., Feb. 19, 1901.
WILLIAM MOODY ROBB.
My Dear Keener: — It is with a great deal of hesitation that I start
to write a "class letter," for I am afraid that it will prove of very little
interest to any one. Yet, realizing that, as a member of '97, the best
class that ever graduated from Princeton University, or College, either,
for that matter, I have a duty to fulfill in helping swell the number of
those who "respond," I will try and tell you what has happened to me
since I was put through the car window at the station. By the way,
the first seat I found was on my dog "Jack" — remember him, "Pop?"
He had been helped through the window ahead of me, and it was so
beastly hazy in the car that I could not see him.
Apropos of "Jack." He is a battle-scarred veteran now and spends
his time dreaming — mostly of Princeton, I think, for many a time
when I have found him sound asleep I have stood near him and started
a Princeton cheer. Before I had gotten to the "Tiger" the old dog
was running up and down the room and doing his best to say "Prince-
ton."
The summer of '97 I spent in trying to forget that I was never to
see the fellows together again — the fellows with whom I had spent the
four pleasantest years of my life. I have given up trying to forget that,
Pop ; it is impossible, for the name Princeton, with all that it signifies,
180
is to be met at every turn one takes. One morning, in the heart of
the Adirondack Mountains, I was creeping cautiously toward a lake,
in the hope of getting a shot at a deer. I could hear the water splash-
ing as if one were stamping among the lily pads, and just as I peeked
through some bushes at the edge of the lake I heard "Here's to Prince-
ton College ! drink her down" come floating over the water. They were
Prep. School boys, four of them, camping out at the lake.
Again, in New Mexico, I saw the magic name — it was at the "Big
Springs" in the middle of the Navajo desert. I had ridden horseback
for forty-five miles, with nothing but the never-ending sage brush on
every side. Coming to the ruins of an Indian pueblo, I stopped, found
the springs, which had been described to me, and, after taking care of
my pony, sat down and tried to be happy with the knowledge that
when I had traveled forty-five miles more I might be able to get some-
thing to eat. Suddenly my pony stopped eating and threw up his head.
Away off in the distance I saw a black object moving toward me with
the bumpty-bumpty motion of a man on horseback. Plitching a "gun"
into position, I assumed the sphinx expression, and watched his ap-
proach.
Don't think I am copying this from a dime novel, "Pop" — when you
have been "buffaloed," as the saying goes, by some Ute Indians and
relieved of everything of value you possess, down to a flannel shirt,
you will realize that in some sections of our glorious country it is still
necessary to carry a gun and to be able to use it, too. I got that shirt
back.
But I digress. When the horseman came to the springs I found he
was a mail carrier and had a paper which was only three weeks old.
After some persuasion the wrapper of the treasure was broken and
one of the first things which met my glance was, "Princeton Beats
Yale," — "Arthur Poe Saves Old Nassau from Defeat." I came near
getting shot over that, "Pop," for he thought I was crazy.
Then in the "Big Horn Basin," in Montana, all the old scenes were
brought back to me, for I had the privilege of talking about them to a
man who is going to send his son there "if it takes every steer on the
ranch."
One stormy night I was "riding a bunch of cattle," as they call it,
and singing "Tune every heart and every voice" (yes, Pop, singing it,
for my heart was in every word). The boss of the outfit was riding the
other half of the circle. As the storm subsided, the cattle became
quieter and we had a chance to talk for a few minutes every once in
a while. He wanted to know what "Old Nassau" meant. The next day
he awakened me early in the afternoon, and wanted me to tell him
again about "how you fellows used to lie around on the range — no,
camp-US — and hear them other fellows singing every night." I told
him, as no one but a Princeton man can tell a person, how we used to
uncover our heads when we sang "Old Nassau" and "My Country 'Tis
of Thee." As I told it, involuntarily he raised a hand to a sombrero
which had never been touched for any woman. When I brought him
i8l
to see that in Princeton,, as in no other university on the face of the
earth, "A man's a man for a' that," it cinched him, so to speak, and if
a Yale or Harvard man ever strikes that outfit I feel for him. Forget
Princeton? I have never been to the dear old place since I graduated,,
yet not a day passes but I think of our Alma Mater and of the friend-
ships formed at a time vi^hen worldly thoughts had no weight.
During the fall and winter of '97 I studied medicine at the College
of Physician and Surgeons, in New York City, a branch of Columbia
College — Columbia seemed to me to be composed mostly of branches,
without an apparent trunk. Being obliged to discontinue my course of
study at that institution, I started west in the early summer with the
intention of building up my health and, incidentally, a fortune. The
health part of it arrived in short order, but the fortune — QulcVi, sauef
Attracted by the seductive tongue of a real estate agent, I wended
my way to Joplin, Mo., and invested in a lead mine. I came into
Joplin in a palace car, and the following spring went out of Joplin
with a team of bronchos and some experience. I was easy. Pop. I
know it.
[Stirred by the "Last Appeal," I will try and finish this if I have to
stay up all night.]
Arriving at Kansas City, Mo., just in time to pick up a case of
typhoid malaria, I spent the next six weeks wondering why in the
dickens they were trying to starve me to death instead of letting me
die in peace. After bribing the nurse into letting me eat what I
wished, strength began to return, and with it the desire to "Go West
and grow up with the country." The first of August found me riding
for the "Spade" outfit on Laramie Plains, Wyoming.
It was like starting in freshman year all over again. At the start
oflf I had an idea that if a gentle pony were given me I might manage
to sit in the saddle for a little while at least. You would have enjoyed
watching that first morning. After the usual questions as to whether
I had ever ridden horseback and if I thought I could ride a mean
pony — both of which were answered in the negative, you may be sure —
the foreman told one of the boys to rope the gentlest pony in the
bunch and show me how to saddle him. He looked gentle enough —
little bit of a stunted buckskin, head to his knees, and eyes all but
closed. He acted as nice as could be expected when the saddle was
thrown over his back, though I did see him smell and nip at the
fellow who was tightening the cinch. At last he was ready, and, no
matter what my feelings were, I had to be ready also. Gathering the
reins in a blase manner, I started my foot for the stirrup — so did the
pony, and the only reason my ankle was not broken was that the pony
reached the stirrup first. This was repeated several times, until I saw
it was useless trying to get on that way. Finally, choosing the easiest
of about ten thousand ways which I was advised to. try, I made a
leap and landed across the saddle, head on one side, feet on the other.
To my surprise — and relief — the pony stood like a rock; stood until
my feet were in the stirrups ; still stood when I said, "Get'ap" ; stood
182
still when I said it again. I thought "This is easy" — and it was, until I
took some more advice and gave him a dig with the spurs. That was
easy, too, — for the pony. He seemed to begin undulating at both
ends — the point of contact of those equal and opposite undulations was
directly underneath the saddle. The effect was a sore shoulder and a
lot of guying from those who had been there before. Unlike the ma-
jority of "tenderfeet," I did not "try again and again until the beast was
conquered." After the third "down" the fellows informed me that I
was a sulphurous fool to try and ride that "outlaw buckskin." I thought
so, too, when I learned that he was the "test" pony, used at all the
sports in that vicinity. Apropos of "pitching" ponies — I tell you this
incident in good faith, Pop, for I believe it to be true : Two men took
a contract to break a bunch of horses and, as the custom is, one had
his choice the first morning, the next morning his partner took his
choice. Such a process naturally leaves the worst until the last and
in this case the last was an "outlaw" about six years old. The fellow
whose turn it was roped the pony, blindfolded him, and at last got
the saddle into position. It took him nearly ten minutes to get into
the saddle and then the work began. The pony tried to drag him from
his place — you know some of them will reach around and catch a man
by the leg, and if he ever loses his seat, unless help comes, he will
be trampled to death — tried to roll and all that, but the rider was an
old hand at it and met every trick with an effective "counter." At
last, having tried everything else, the pony came back to ordinary
tactics and did some straight pitching. He would pitch as long as he
could, maybe five minutes, then stand like a rock and wait until he
had strength and wind enough to go at it again. After an hour of this,
both man and horse were nearly used up, but neither would give in, —
the same after an hour and a half. Both were bleeding at the nose and
mouth. Just an hour and forty minutes after the struggle began, Bran-
son, the rider, drew his gun and shot the pony through the head. The
boys picked Branson up and he died while they were carrying him to
the ranch house.
After a month of riding in Wyoming I went up into Montana ; rode
there for about six weeks and then came back to Denver. My next
stopping place was Durango, Colorado. I stayed there long enough
to get an outfit, and then started on a horseback ride which took me to
the Canyon of the Colorado, from there to the petrified forest in Ari-
zona, thence to Albuquerque, New Mexico, across the Navajo desert,
up the Animas River, up the San Juan River to Pagora Spring, Colo-
rado, and, after hunting for a while, I came back to take a position
offered me in Kansas City. For the usual reasons, it seemed better for
me to accept a position in Omaha, and so here I am writing a lot of
stuff to you.
It does not seem necessary to make any excuses for the general'
"flatness" of this letter. I know what a low grade it deserves — yet a
fellow who had received as many postal cards as I have would do
almost anything, and when I can plainly see that "Pop" is liable to
183
have a lingering death through heartache unless more of us respond, I
think I am justified in sending even this attempt at a class letter.
W. M. ROBB.
Kansas City, Mo., Jan. 2, 1901.
ROBERT FOSTER ROBINSON.
Dear Pop: — Your many requests have been received, though some of
them have experienced seasons of wandering. But they all arrived at
last, and I thank you for being so persistent. Some of the numerous
unnameables from you have been duly filled in and have begun their
journey to you by way of the pocket route, where they have remained,
through forgetfulness on the part of the responsible agent, until they
have become musty by reason of age. Recently I observe you are be-
coming more economical, and have resorted to the common every-day
postal card, and what a message it does bear. Hot? Sizzling! If j'ou
are responsible for the composition for such an outrageous attack on
the members of '97, who hold you in such high esteem, it is my opin-
ion that on the fifth anniversary those same admiring classmates will
gather on some pleasant June evening of '92 and despatch you to keep
company with John Brown, via rope and tree, whether the latter be
oak, apple, or any old tree. You really ought to be ashamed of your-
self. Pop. You are old enough to know better than to insult us in
such a public manner. Yet, under pressure, we forgive and forget.
I am studying in the Allegheny Theological Seminary and hope soon
to be filling a pastorate.
With best wishes, I am. Yours very truly,
R. Foster Robinson.
Pittsburgh, Pa., April 4, 1901.
EDWARD HERATY RODGERS.
Dear Pop: — I would gladly write you a letter if it was possible for me
to do so, but unfortunately I cannot. The truth of the matter is I
have neither done anything to either extinguish or distinguish myself
since leaving college. I lived on hot air for about six or eight
months, and then went into the wholesale tea business with my father
and brother. Was married in June, '96, and am now the father of a
family, having two fine boys — one four years old last March and the
other about five months old. Hope that some day they will be able to
do something for Princeton. This is about all I have done, so you see
that it would be impossible to write an interesting letter. With best
regards, I am, Most sincerely,
E. H. RODGERS.
Philadelphia, Pa., May 13, 1901.
IRVING LIVINGSTON ROE.
Dear Pop: — Your second has arrived, but until this is written and
mailed I shall feel too much like a moral wreck to open it.
Since graduation I have been living at home in New York, and man-
184
aging to spend Sunday in Princeton pretty often, usually without find-
ing much '97 company. And this year, and the year before, I have
gone down in the last part of September for a week of my vacation.
I am with the New York Life Insurance and Trust Company, at 52
Wall street, and find a goodly '97 representation in that part of the
town. F. Sturges has recently come among us, and we are seeking re-
laxation from our financial responsibilities by playing indoor tennis
once a week.
Last summer I went west on a three weeks' flying trip, which in-
cluded Yellowstone Park, but v/e were hustling so that I did not get a
chance to look anybody up.
I am, of course, a member of the Princeton Club and a subscriber to
the Alumni Weekly, which "can't be beat."
We ought to have a good turnout at commencement, for we certainly
had a famous time last June.
Irving L. Roe.
New York City, N. Y., March 2, 1901.
ALBERT HUNTSMAN ROSENGARTEN.
Rosengarten has wandered into the wild and woolly West and
turned cowboy. He vouchsafes the interesting information that he is
tired of loafing and is going to work. This comes from a "ranch in
Colorado," but the location of it has not been discovered. During the
Spanish war he served in Porto Rico with Battery A, Pennsylvania
Volunteers. Since that he has studied law at the University of Penn-
sylvania in spite of athletic memories. He has traveled in the West
and in Central America and has at last lost himself on the cattle
trails of Colorado.
CHARLES KIRKLAND ROYS.
Dear Pop: — You letter, marked "3d request," reached me in Mon-
treal and warmed the cockles of my heart, although the thermometer
registered 18 degrees below zero. This is the first request that has
reached me this year, so don't think me altogether forgetful of my duty
to the old man.
I have nothing to tell about except a year of medical work, with an
occasional week on a Roosevelt Hospital Ambulance to vary the
monotony and widen the horizon. This latter is quite enjoyable at
times, but you get your cuffs all bloody, and are apt to dream of grue-
some sights.
I had a pleasant change in July, taking a wheel through Germany,
and a week on foot through the Tyrolese Alps. Coming home 1 met
Buck Thompson and Bobby Wilkins on the steamer, who had been
doing Paris for a month or so. The sight of Buck's beaming counte-
nance drove out the seven devils of seasickness that had converted
me into a blooming geyser, and I walked the deck, feeling that life
was worth living once more.
When I reached home it was "up to me" to take up this traveling
185
work for the Student Volunteer Movement. I expect to go back next
year to finish my medical course at P. & S., and get my degree, if the
fates are kind, in 1902.
Remember me to all the old crowd that you meet.
Yours as always,
Charles K. Roys.
New York City, N. Y., Jan. 2, 1901.
JAMES WOOD RUSLING.
My Dear Keener: — After numerous epistles, headed, ist notice, 2d
notice, 3d notice, and also several postal cards, lavishly embellished
with exclamation marks, had reached me, it began to dawn upon me
that the words "this means you" were really personal.
It seemed to me that '97 could as easily break all records in future
as she had done in the past, and that there was no need for a letter
from me. It now seems as if a good many others were thinking the
same thing, and that the very fact of our past success was about to
invite a break in our glorious career. It gives me pleasure to join the
ranks and give most strict attention to that very excellent list of "sug-
gestions" :
1. Residence, Trenton, N. J.
2. Unmarried.
3. Names of children, undecided.
4. Member of the Princeton Club of Trenton, the Loyal Legion,
Pennsylvania Commandery, and the Philadelphia Stock Exchange.
5. Republican and expansionist, with the greatest belief in the future
of our country.
6. 7 and 8. No offices of profit have as yet sought me out, but any
member of the class having any such to dispose of will please com-
municate with me at once.
9. No addresses delivered, but am getting my voice in training by
daily practice from 10 to 3 on the Stock Exchange.
10. One journey to Europe, 1898, and one 1899. One to Princeton,
June, 1900, to enjoy a magnificent baseball game, together with many
other attractions. One to the White Mountains in 1900.
11. Permanent address, Trenton, N. J., or Philadelphia Stock Ex-
change.
12 and 13. No interesting or blood-curdling experiences to relate. I
fear my share of space has already been exceeded.
Trusting that your gentle ( ?) reminders will make '97 again vic-
torious, I am. Sincerely,
James W. Rusling.
Trenton, N. J., April 20, 1901.
HENRY NORRIS RUSSELL.
My Dear Keener: — Happy are the people whose annals are brief,
and I am one of them. Three years in Princeton, imitating the hero
of Booth Tarkington's first masterpiece — the Senior on the cover of
186
the "Tiger"— in his struggle for the elusive diploma, and another at-
home on Long Island, resting by doctor's orders, and trying to recover
from the fatigue incident to the first three, composed my experience.
The chief results of the first period are two diplomas, a few published
articles, whereof you are already sufficiently informed, and— the sec-
ond period. Its best feature was that it kept me in the dear old place.
A word in explanation of the romantic titles of some of the aforesaid
articles. I confess that I took up work relating to Venus of my own
free will. But later there came along a new and interesting asteroid,
and I rashly started my thesis; and then the discoverer of the thing
named it Eros. I am really not to blame for that.
Of the second period it need only be said that, while it is not alto-
gether delightful to be laid on the shelf, still, Oyster Bay is a pretty
good sort of a shelf, and I am not so flat on my back that I cannot
enjoy life.
As for travel, my only trip of any length so far, has been one to
North Carolina with the Princeton party, to see last year's eclipse.
This statement will not long remain true, however, for in the near
future I expect to accompany my mother on a three months' trip to
Italy. We sail for Naples on February 2— next Saturday— and shall
spend our time there and in Rome. I hope that when we return I
shall be on my feet again, and able once more to keep up with the pro-
cession.
Hoping that '97 may always head its line, I am.
Yours sincerely,
Henry Norris Russell.
Oyster Bay, L. I., Jan. 31, 1901.
JOSEPH WRIGHT RYLE.
Dear Keener: — My tale is soon told and can fill but a modest space-
in the Triennial Record. I have been interested in various mechanical
contrivances, more or less, since I left college, one of them being a
peculiar form of camera, which, though successful, has not yet reached
the stage which I want it to attain before I put it on the market. I
have traveled about, here and there, at various seasons of the year,,
and on some of these trips, in fact, on most of them, have met many
Princeton men, with some of whom I discussed old times.
Although yours truly has had the opportunity of matrimony thrust
before him, he must admit he has not yet succumbed to the charms of
the fairer sex. Wouldn't it jar that same fair sex to hear such a
statement; but then they do not know how easy they are after all.
You ask a heap of questions for such a short man, but as no dis-
respect is meant, I will try to answer them.
1. Mail will always reach me at the same old stand.
2. My business is the same as heretofore.
3. Unmarried, and therefore no kids on the scene. Q. E. D.
4. Am a member of several golf and country clubs, a yacht club, the-
Princeton Club of New York, and the Hamilton Club of Paterson.
187
5- Always a dyed-in-the-wool Republican, once, twice, and all the
time.
6. Have filled so many offices of trust that it would overwhelm you
did you hear but a few of them.
7. Have played much golf since leaving college, and was startled
to see "Buck" Thompson doing the same. It is the greatest game a
la tapis.
8. Suggestions? Yes. Shorten this letter as much as you like.
And now good bye.
Joseph W. Ryle.
Paterson, N. J., Dec. 4, '01.
IRA ALLAN SANKEY.
Dear Classmates: — After being called all kinds of
names by our beloved "Pop," I at last take up my typewriter and drop
you a few lines, one and all, both individually and collectively, to let
you know what "Sank." has been at the last few years.
Pardon me, gentle reader, if I seem egotistical in an unnecessary
degree, but Pop has been so persistent, I can no longer get out of it
and still be loyal to the dear old "Great and Glorious" ; so, fellows,
here goes :
After commencement I guess I did about as much as you other fellows
did for the rest of the summer — bummed and loafed and thought of
the future. This hard work was done at Eastport, Long Island, and,
not feeling equal to the accomplishment of this arduous task, all by
myself, I wrote to "Dutch" Gregory to come down and help me.
"Dutch" arrived in due course, intending to stay but a couple of weeks.
At the end of six weeks "Dutch" was still with us. We had "one or
two times," didn't we, Dutch ? Ask him if we didn't, when you see him.
Then came "Spot" Stahl, and I think "Spot" enjoyed his stay as much
as "Dutch" did his. The way "Spot" mixed up the mathematical and
scientific method of sailing a boat, with the practical way, was a
caution. It's a wonder we were not all drowned. Taking it all in all,
it was a great summer.
When college opened in fall, I went back to the dear old place for
about five weeks, and just hung around and looked for all you fellows,
and thought of the good times we had spent together, which we did not
half appreciate until they were all over. It was awfully lonesome and
strange, and I was glad to come away.
On Christmas day, 1897, my father told me to get ready to take a
trip through Europe and Africa, with my mother and himself. It was
short notice, but did I hustle? Well, I guess.
On the 4th day of January, 1898, we left New York on the North
German Lloyd S. S. Normania, for parts unknown. On board were
some 350 "odd" passengers, among whom there were about 65 girls,
between the ages of sixteen and twenty-five, as near as we could tell
from their looks, and only three fellows, including myself. The other
two fellows were from Pittsburgh — a Harry Wilson, and his cousin, Pat-
188
terson. The latter was a cousin of George Patterson, who played
second base on '97's great team, Freshman Year.
On the eighth day after leaving New York we sighted Trafalgar on
the coast of Spain. The only thing that impressed me, as we slipped by
Trafalgar, was a little lighthouse on the shore, and the remark some
one made that that was the place where the word "tarif" came from,
when another asked him where "Freetradeville" was.
Our first stop was made at Gibraltar. It was nearly dark when we
landed, so we did not get very much of an idea of the town itself, but
the fort is great. It is an immense mountain all by itself. Reminded
me forcibly of an advertisement of the Prudential Life Insurance Co.,
it looked so natural.
From Gibraltar we proceeded to Genoa, Italy, one of the half dozen
birthplaces of Christopher Columbus, passing, on the way, close enough
inshore to see the little Kingdom of Monaco, where Monte Carlo is
situated. One of the gentlemen on board remarked, as we passed this
little island where so much money changes hands every year, that this
Island of Monaco was the smallest kingdom in the world. In fact,
he said he was so sure of it that he was willing to gamble on it.
At Genoa we went ashore and drove around the town and out to the
great cemetery of Campo Santa. There are miles and miles of the
finest kind of marble statuary. It seems that, in Genoa, no matter how
poor you may be, when you die you must have a marble statute put over
your tomb. There is one statue that attracts more attention than any
other. It is of an old woman with a basket over her arm and a large
pretzel in her hand. The story is that this old woman made a fortune
in selling pretzels there in Genoa. On her death-bed, she in some way
learned that her relatives were praying that she would hurry up and
die, so that they could have her money. Naturally she did not like
this, and decided that she would fool them. Sending for the finest
sculptor in the city, she ordered him to make a statue of her as she
used to look in her working clothes, a basket over her arm and a
pretzel as the sign of her business in her hand. She also told him that
the work must not cost less than the amount of her whole fortune.
It was just like finding money for the sculptor, but to do him justice,
he quite outdid himself, for the statue is as lifelike as life, and the
pretzel so real that it made me quite hungry, and I longed for the good,
old days of Artie Bave and the grill-room. But the tale neglects to
state what the poor relatives said when they saw that statue. Probably
it wouldn't be printable, anyway.
From Genoa we proceeded down the coast to Naples, where we
stopped one evening — only long enough for a few of us to make a short
trip through the city and get lost for a couple of hours. It was more
like the East Side of New York than anything we have in New York
itself. If we only could have run across the Bowery in our wanderings
we would have been all right. As it was we only had a couple of
fights, and a run for our money, before we found our way back to the
docks again.
189
From the deck of the vessel, Vesuvius could just barely be made out
through the blue haze and the darkening twilight, by the glow of the
fires on its summit. It looked, as we slipped by in the dark, as though
there was a large summer hotel on the top of the mountain and the
people were having a big dance, with all the lights in every room lit.
Then the gong sounded for dinner.
We only stayed over night at Alexandria before going on to Cairo,
so we did not see much of the town. At Cairo we put up at the far-
famed Shepheard's Hotel. Almost the first person I ran across there
was Frank Curtis. Frank has good reason to remember Cairo and the
subsequent trip to Palestine and Constantinople. Now haven't you,
Frank? Ask Mrs. Frank Curtis about it, if you don't believe me.
After bumming around Cairo for a week, we started for a three weeks'
trip up the Nile on the S. S. Rameses III. We went ashore each day,
to see the ruins of the different temples built thousands and thousands
of years ago, and the great tombs of the kings, built when Egypt was in
its greatest glory and power. These immense temples and tombs are
situated either far out in the desert or high up in the mountains, miles
back from the river. The only way of getting to them is by riding
on the diminutive donkeys driven by little Egyptian boys who run
along behind with clubs. We paid these boys the large sum of fifteen
cents a day for their very necessary services, and even then they asked
for more.
At Assouan, about 550 miles from the mouth of the Nile, and just
below the First Cataract, we stopped for three days before starting on
our return journey. It was here I had my first and only swim in the
Nile. It was simply great.
On our return to Cairo, we found we needed a rest, so we stayed there
for a couple of weeks to recuperate before starting for Palestine. We
made several trips to the Pyramids, but I was the only one of our
party to climb the Great Pyramid. It's quite a stunt. I also made the
trip into the inner chamber. A fat man couldn't get in there to save
his life, the passageway is so small and steep.
I wouldn't mind spending a whole winter in Cairo.
From Cairo we took the train for Port Said, and from there we
traveled by boat to Jaffa, Palestine. We stayed at Jaffa-Jappa-
Japho-Joppa, or any old way you like to spell it, only a few hours
before taking the train for Jerusalem. A few hours was quite enough,
for it is the dirtiest, filthiest town in the whole world.
At Jerusalem, we stayed for about ten days, three of which were
spent on a trip to Jericho, the River Jordan and the Dead Sea. I think
I enjoyed those three days the best of any three on the whole trip. I
went in swimming in the Dead Sea, and could have stayed in all day —
it was so exhilarating. You can't quite walk on the water, but you
can come pretty near it. Anyway, you can't wade out of your depth,
for when the water comes up to your chest your feet begin to come up,
and you either have to swim or float.
The rest of the time at Jerusalem was spent in visiting Bethlehem,
190
Bethany, the Mount of Olives, Mosque of Omar, Tombs of the Kings,
Church of the Holy Sepulchre, Jews' Wailing Place, and a thousand
other places of biblical interest. It was all awfully interesting, but they
tell you such great tales about every place you visit — and then expect
you to believe them, and get mad if you don't — that it takes half the
pleasure away. I have often thought what a fine "Dragoman" or guide,
"Bill" Reynolds would make out there.
From Jerusalem we returned to Jaffa, and from there proceeded by
boat to Beiriit.
At Beiriit we visited the American College, where W. M. Post and
Fred Jessup are studying. I didn't see Post, as he had a class away
off somewhere else at the time I was there, but I saw Jessup. He was
teaching a class of little Turks to read English, the morning I called on
him. He looked terribly learned and severe, sitting there in front of
them, when I came into the room, but a more surprised man than he
was, when he recognized me, I have never seen. He dismissed the
class, and we had a good talk of old times. He said he liked it well
enough, but it got kind of lonesome at times. He wanted to be re-
membered to all of you fellows.
We stayed at Beirut only a few hours, and then sailed for Constan-
tinople, stopping on the way at Smyrna and the Island of Samos.
We arrived at Constantinople in a blinding snow storm, Vk^ith the
wind blowing sixty miles an hour. I had no passport, and had to
bluff in on my uncle's, he handing it to me behind his back after he was
examined. While the officer who examined the passports was reading
the one I handed him, i shoved up close, and Vvhen I thought he had
about reached the age clause, I "accidentally" stepped on his foot in
the snow. Of course he swore at me in Turkish, and I, of course,
scowled at the crowd around us in turn. You see I may look old, but
I hardly look forty-seven, so I had to do something to attract or rather
distract his attention. The distracting process must have been done
pretty thoroughly, for he let me through without a word (that I could
understand), and thus saved us all endless trouble. I don't think
anything in the world is hated as much as the Turks hate Americans,
cameras and newspapers.
In Constantinople we spent about a week, seeing all there was to be
seen and a few other things. We were invited, together with the other
American tourists then in the city, to the diplomatic department of the
royal palace, from the windows of which we witnessed the ceremony
of the Selimlik, when the Sultan drives in his carriage some 150 yards,
between his thousands of cheering soldiers, to the mosque where he
worships every Friday. I nearly got myself into trouble by trying to
take a picture of "His Nibs" as he passed our window. One of the
soldiers objected, so I thought I had better quit.
A good deal of our time was spent, while in this wonderful city, in
tripping over the dogs that lay around on the sidewalks and in the
street. The old fable about the dogs running Constantinople is no
fable at all — it's too true. The dogs do own the town. You must never
191
make a dog get up when he's lying across your path. Either step over
him or go round. Never kick him in the slats, much as you may want
to, for the Turks will murder you if you do. You often see dogs block-
ing the traffic of a whole street. Great place, Constantinople.
From Constantinople to Athens was one of the nicest voyages on the
whole trip — warm weather, blue skies and jolly companions. We ar-
rived at Piraeus, the seaport of Athens, about five o'clock in the after-
noon, and drove the five miles to the city in carriages.
If I ever want to live out of the United States, I'll surely choose
Athens for that place. I never spent a more enjoyable two weeks any-
where than I did in that city. The first place I wanted to see was the
Acropolis, and there was not a day during our whole stay that I did
not spend anywhere from six to eight hours there. I saw sunrises
from the Temple of the Six Virgins, sunsets from the Temple of
Winged Victory, moonlight in the Parthenon, and about everything
else — it was simply fine.
They never forgot that throw of the discus by "Bob" Garrett at the
Olympic Games at Athens. The first thing our new courier asked us
when he saw we were Americans was : "Do you know Garrett, the
American discus thrower?" My! how I swelled up with pride when I
told him I was in the same class in the same college as Garrett. Good
work. Bob ! You beat them at their own game, and they will never
forget you or us.
From Athens we journeyed by land and by sea to Brindisi, and from
there by rail back to Naples once more. A week in Naples was taken
up by visits to Mount Vesuvius, Pompeii, Capri, Sorrento, and the
great National Museum. I could writes pages on Vesuvius and Pom-
peii, I enjoyed them so much; but I won't, thus sparing you all need-
less agony. I'm very much afraid I have taxed your endurance enough
as it is, so will hurry on.
From Naples we proceeded to Rome, where we stayed about ten
days. Rome has lots of places of interest for the traveler as well as
the historian, and I suppose we saw them all, but sightseeing was be-
ginning to pall on us.
Easter Sunday was only a few days away, and consequently the hotels
and the city were crowded with people of all sorts and conditions.
We had seen enough, so we thought we would run up to Florence and
spend Easter in peace and quiet. After a few days of walking through
the miles and miles of art galleries and wandering about the queer old
town, we continued on to Venice.
We only stayed a day at Venice, but it was a day well spent. We
saw everything, from the Bridge of Sighs and the Doge's Palace to the
glass and lace factories. It was all too hurried to suit me. I would
like to have stayed a month. What amused me most was the fact that
there was no way of getting from the station to the hotel, or from the
hotel to any where, except by calling a gondola. Over here, if you
haven't the price of a cab or even the trolley, you can at least walk,
but there it's either pay the boatman his fare or swim. I don't think
a bicycle store or a riding academy would thrive there.
192
Verona, Milan and Geneva were visited in turn, but by this time it
was nearly summer, so we hurried north to Paris.
The rest of our party seemed to like Paris much better than I did,
for after staying there a week I got tired and started off for England
by myself, intending to meet them later at Southampton, the day the
steamer left for New York.
My ! but it seemed good to hear English spoken once more, after all
the "gib-gab" we had heard on our travels, and also to be able to get
news of the war ; but I longed to get back to good old U. S. of A. again,
and go to war myself, if needed. We were in Constantinople when we
first got news of the sinking of the "Maine," and often I paid half a
dollar for a Paris edition of the New York Herald, we were so anxious
for news of the impending war with Spain.
It was like being left a lot of money to be back in New York once
more, and you never appreciate our own country the way it should be
appreciated until you have been away from it for a while. I tell you,
fellows, this is "God's country," and no mistake.
During the trip I took about 800 pictures, and the summer after our
return was spent in making up books of pictures for a number of the
people who were on the trip with us.
In the fall of '98 I went to work with the Biglow and Main Co., 135
Fifth Avenue, New York City, and since then have gradually drifted
into the phonograph business as a side line.
If any of you fellows are in town any time, drop in and see me at
53 East nth Street, where we have our laboratory, and I'll show you
how we make the real thing in the record line. "Bab" Hill has been
there, and sang us his old "Turn-key" song, and it came out splendidly.
I have the record at home, and those who have heard it, say it is perfect.
Last summer "Dutch" Gregory, "Pigeon" Wren and "Chippy" Kent
visited us for a while at our country cottage, at Eastport, L. I., and, as
my wife had some of her girl friends visiting us at the same time, we
managed to have a pretty good time. I think the summer left us with the
impression that both "Dutch" and "Pigeon" had capitulated without
a struggle to the allurements of one and the same young lady. As'i
them if it's so when you see them, but, for heaven's sake, don't tell
them I told you.
The date of my engagement, and subsequent marriage to "the dearest
little woman in the world" will be found elsewhere, as will the date
of the birth of my little daughter, "Hope."
If any of you fellows happen to be in the city at any time I do wish
you would come over to my house, 369 Park Place, Brooklyn, and see
me. I would like to introduce you, one and all, to Mrs. Sankey, and
show you the sweetest, pinkest little baby that ever was. Incidentally,
have a game of pool and anything else you might want.
I've just got a telegram from "Pop" to hurry this along, so with best
wishes to you all, and hoping we will soon meet again, I remain, now
and always.
Your classmate and sincere friend,
New York City, N. Y., May i, '01. "Sank."
193
JOSEPH SAWYER, JR.
My Dear Keener: — Your gentle reminder of the I2th is before me,
and I hasten to reply.
I have spent most of the past year in the West and Northwest, min-
ing In Arizona during November, December, January, February and
March, of last year, returning to New York in March. I left for
Nome, Alaska, last May, and returned in November, stayed here
about a month and then went to Seattle and San Francisco, re-
turning from there the last of January. Saw Morgan Smith, '97,
at the Palace Hotel, 'Frisco, and had a little dinner or two with him.
I am interested in a number of mining claims in Nome, and shall re-
turn thither the last of May, to be gone until November.
Am not married yet, and don't expect to be, for a while, anyway.
Well, old man, take care of yourself, and believe me.
Sincerely yours,
Jos. Sawyer, Jr.
New York City, N. Y., Feb. 26, '01.
ROBERT DALZELL SCHOONMAKER.
Dear Classmates: — "Pop" has requested me to lay aside my garb of a
private citizen and pose, for a little while, in the role of a public charac-
ter — in other words, to give to the world, or the class of '97, which is
the same thing, through the medium of written language, a resume of
my adventures, various and sundry, since I was shoved through a car
window by certain teary members of the "Great and Glorious," one
day in the month of June, eighteen hundred and ninety-seven. I obey,
and, for the nonce rise out of oblivion.
Since Commencement very little has happened to me which would be
of interest to you. The major portion of the three years which have
elapsed since that momentous event has been spent at Princeton Sem-
inary, in frantic efforts to have my name enrolled on the records of the
"Society of the Great Unwashed." (Term used with permission of
copyright owner, C. K. Roys.) The minor portion has been whiled
away in a judicious series of loafs. Just what my future wnll be is at
present somewhat hazy ; therefore the less said about it the better.
With the wish for all you fellows of as great success in life, as we
attained while in college as a class, I lay aside the role.
Your friend,
RoBT. Dalzell Schoonmaker.
Plainfield, N. J., Nov. 24, '01.
EDWIN HOWARD SCOTT.
My Dear Keener: — Perhaps it was for the purpose of seeing if the
"old man's" patience had quite run out, that I waited for the second
summons ; or perhaps I waited till Christmas, thinking that a letter
from any one of his straying sheep would fill his heart with the spirit
of the season. I guess it was the latter, for surely every '97 man would
fall over himself to add even a drop to Pop's cup of happiness.
194
Well, my career has been uneventful. The first two years after gradu-
ation was spent in resting and in contemplating the glorious days.
And some of the time, I hope, I put to good use in singing (?) Prince-
ton's praises. Two years ago I was chosen principal of the High School
at Plymouth, and, since that time, have been endeavoring to hold my
job. There's little excitement or fun in such a job.
I haven't wandered, except in imagination, over any considerable
portion of the earth. A summer spent in the South (nice place to spend
a summer) constitutes the most extensive trip. Even in North Caro-
lina I found the fame of Princeton.
Don't you think "Pop's letter bears an unfortunate date — Nov. ii,
1900? May it stand forever accursed in the calendar — even if it is my
birthday. Well, yesterday I learned there's no use to despair. I met,
in Wilkes-Barre, an athletic sophomore, who told me all about it.
In his words this spring's baseball team is going to throw some of the
records of the famous Bostons into the shade. And next year, of
course, Princeton will have the only football team worthy the name,
I forget what reason he gave for the disaster of the season. That ol
spirit is there, and while it is there, doubt as to the future is absurd.
Well, "Pop," in that wonderful book of yours, my letter ought not to
take up too much space, so I'll bring this to a close, regretting that my
doings are so commonplace, and wishing to every member of our uni-
versity's first class the greatest possible success.
Yours, with the "old-time spirit,"
Edwin H. Scott.
Plymouth, Pa., Dec. 23, 1900.
CLARENCE MILLS SEYMOUR.
Seymour seems to be lost to the world. No news of him has been
received for over four years. Notwithstanding this dearth of informa-
tion, the secretary feels no apprehension as to his safety, being well
assured that his sublime self-poise will keep him right side up in any
situation.
WALTER ALLEN SEYMOUR.
Dear Pop: — Your postals of frantic appeal irritated a guilty con-
science to a feeling of annoyance ; but your final prayer swept away the
last vestige of laziness, and has caused me to try to oblige you with
some sort of a letter.
My reluctance to undertake the task arose more from not knowing
what to say than from the task itself. Your job, I know, is a hard one
and seems thankless, too, when you think of the rest of us only need-
ing to take a few moments' time and thought to comply with your just
and expected demands. However, we, too, have our side. The high
standard you have desired frightens us, and we pray for an inspiration
of wit and imagination to transform the prosaic past into something
195
which will interest and amuse those who are to peruse our efforts. No
doubt, with this in view, you will readily see with what hesitancy the
"class letter" is approached, and how poor and mean our little scrawl
seems when compared with what we would like to have done. This
little explanation and excuse having deferred as long as possible the real
business of writing my "class letter," that is still before me, and some-
thing must be done, I suppose.
Owing to stress of circumstances, it has been my lot to get back to
the dear old college only once since we all parted in that beautiful June
four years ago. So I have not kept in touch with the fellows as I would
like to have done, to which end the yearly reunions so greatly aid ;
however, in the future I intend to change that, if possible. It is a won-
derful bond which connects all Princeton men, and it tightens as we
leave our college days further behind us. Traveling through West
Virginia this fall I met a "ninety-eight" man, unknown to me at college,
and in the easy conversation of the smoking-room, we each discovered
that the other was a Princeton man. At once we were friends with
a wealth of recollections for furthering our acquaintance. So it always
is ; a fellow Princeton man met haphazard, is a friend and can have
the best one can give.
The summer of ninety-eight I spent, as did many classmates, helping,
each his mite, to free Cuba; so that Congress could amuse itself an-
nexing it, as speedily and legally as possible. Fortunately for me my
lines were cast in pleasant places, for I went to the Philippines, of the
existence of which I was but dimly aware before th'e beginning of the
late unpleasantness : so I had a chance to see that country.
Going over on the transport we used to talk and joke about what we
would loot, and we decided to spare no churches, for we had inflated
ideas of the hoards of gold and jewels we should find. However, most
of the wealth of the church consisted of land ; if they had any stores of
gems, they were not on exhibition, and, anyhow, everything not nailed
down had a sentry over it.
We had many college men in the battery, among them Joe Beacham,
captain of the Cornell baseball and football teams, who was my sergeant.
Afterward he was promoted to first sergeant and recommended for a
commission for bravery on the field of battle. He was one of three
recommended at that time for bravery, one of the others being Ser-
geant Burdick, a Brown man, also of our battery. Beacham accepted
his lieutenancj^ and is now serving in Cuba with the Eighteenth In-
fantry.
Among the Princeton men I met out there were Lane, '87, of the
First California; the Coulters, of the Tenth Pennsylvania, whose regi-
ment did splendidly; and "Count" de Montalvo, of the Utah Battery —
which also did fine work. At the time I called on him he was detailed
as interpreter to General Otis, and was sitting at a table in the coolest
corner of the inside balcony of the palace, clothed in spotless white
duck, translating some regulations or other, which seemed as easy to
him as the Spanish exercises he did for the fellows at college.
196
Since my return I have been nowhere, and done nothing to interest
any one but myself, so I will close now with a hope to see you and
all the boys in June.
Yours sincerely,
W. A. Seymour.
Flushing, L. L, April lo, 'oi.
FREDERICK VAN VLIET SHAW.
Shaw is another timid youth whose modesty interferes with his letter-
writing. A reference to the First Record, in which he gives such an
interesting account of his thrilling experience at San Juan hill, gives
proof positive that this misdirected modesty deprives the class of fur-
ther pleasure. He has "stuck to the law" ever since that "trifling argu-
ment" with the Spanish government.
LEANDER HOWARD SHEARER.
Dear Pop: — It is always delightful to receive one of your cheering
letters. You should not neglect to make the very most of that marked
talent which you possess. Write as often as possible and change the
subject matter whenever convenient. I am very sorry I cannot recipro-
cate with letters of like brilliancy and humor. However, after a few
more months' work at medical college, I shall be ready, and able too,
I hope, to render medical service to any who may seek for it. If ever
you overtax your rugged constitution, come in and see me, and I will
do my best to patch it up for you.
The autobiography of my graduate life is quickly told. With seven
other '97 men I have spent three years of constant and interesting
work at The College of Physicians and Surgeons, in New York City.
A very small portion of each of these three years I have fortunately
been able to spend at Princeton, under the auspices of the class secre-
tary.
These class reunions mark the beginning and the end of each year of
graduate life — the college man's new year — a time for celebration, con-
gratulation, reminiscence, and, perhaps, for resolutions too.
No man in the class of '97 would willingly miss the stimulus and
pleasure which such occasions bring. Nothing else eventful, I regret to
say. has marked my career. I hope this letter may find you in the best
of health, and that its very sudden appearance may not be a shock
to your nervous system.
Ever your friend and classmate,
Leander Howard Shearer.
New York City, April 25, '01.
EDWIN SHORTZ, JR.
My Dear Secretary: — I acknowledge that I am provokingly remiss
in the sending of this epistle, but the fact of the matter is that I am
"more to be pitied than censured," for I have tried several times to
compose something that would be intelligible English, and, at the same
197
time, be conducive to the edification of the class, but all my efforts
have seemed hopeless, and the only excuse for sending this is my
conviction that every one of us should contribute his mite to the
Record.
Since you last heard from me, I have traveled a great deal — but not
far ; most of my pilgrimages having been made between Wilkes-Barre
and Moosic, Pa. I have neither faced the terrors of the Chilcoot Pass
nor bearded the elusive bolo-man in his lair ; so any accounts of my
travels, I fear, would be about as exciting as an expurgated edition of
Calderwood's Psychology.
However, I observe with increasing apprehension that deeds of chiv-
alry and daring no longer find favor in the eyes of mankind, as was the
case in the last century. This age of horseless carriages and henless
eggs has a tendency to knock all of the romance out of life. Our great
warriors can no longer get into print by dashing up and sticking their
heads in the mouths of cannon. The only way to do it now is to go out
West and get treed by a pack of coyotes, or else allow your beard to
grow until the election of Byran. Great statesmen arc no longer noticed
for the parts they play in bringing about international treaties, but if
they go South and knock the feathers out of a few canvas-backs the
newspapers get out extra editions and print pictures of their wives and
children. But as such is the lamentable state of affairs, I will risk tell-
ing of a peculiar hunting expedition in which I took part.
Two summers ago I was employed on an engineer corps constructing
a large masonry dam on a stream of water known as Mill Creek. How
it got its name I am not sure, for we never ran across any mills in the
course of our wanderings, but I believe that years ago there had been
one in its vicinity, which was stopped in the first round by the police.
About a mile from our camp, up the creek, was a quarry, from which
stone had been taken for the construction of the dam, but which had
not been worked for about a year. One very hot morning a workman,
who had been sent to the quarry for some old iron, returned with two
rattlesnakes, and reported that the place was full of the reptiles. I had
long wished to secure some skins of these animals, and, in the afternoon,
another young fellov/ and myself started out on a hunting expedition
armed with hickory sticks about four feet long. We had to do some
tall climbing up the side of a mountain, and the torrid condition of the
weather would have made any Turkish bath look pale. Before that
day I had never seen a rattlesnake loose in the woods, nor heard one
rattle, so every time one of those flying grasshoppers buzzed through
the air I would jump and look all around me before proceeding. T
greatly amused my companion, who delivered himself of sundry jocu-
lar remarks at my expense. However, I got even with him by insinu-
ating that his superior training in woodcraft eminently qualified him to
take the lead on that occasion, so we changed places.
Just before arriving at the quarry we had to walk through a patch of
huckleberry bushes, which reached nearly to our knees, and obstructed
our view of the ground. In traversing this place I walked very
198
daintily on my tip toes, and took very long and deliberate strides, at
the same time experiencing the unique and delightful sensation of
perspiration rolling down my face and cold chills rolling up my back.
Then we reached the quarry — a large clearing in which were scattered
many stones of all sizes, some of them grown over with fern and huckle-
berry bushes. My companion, whom I will call Jim for convenience,
proceeded into the clearing about ten feet in advance of me, but had
not taken more than five steps when we were both stopped by a quick,
dry rattling sound in a clump of bushes, which he had already passed,
and which lay between us. I had never heard this sound before, but it
was unnecessary for me to consult a Century dictionary to ascertain the
meaning of it. Jim, without waiting to learn my views on the proper
method of strategic procedure to be employed in such an emergency,
immediately poked his stick into the bushes : whereupon a large speci-
men of the crotalus horridus came wriggling slowly in my direction with
his ugly head raised slightly from the ground and his opposite end
rattling like the bell of a block-signal system. Jim now appointed him-
self professional coach, and exhorted me to "nail 'im." However, I
refrained from so cruel an act, just then, as I had a kind of instinctive
feeling that any overtures of a belligerent nature on my part might not
be taken by the rattler in a sportsmanlike spirit. Then, too, the rattling
process had in some way been communicated to me, and I was afraid
of making a bad shot and spoiling the skin. Another matter which
may have, in some slight measure, influenced my decision was a hasty
mental calculation of his length, placing it at about eight feet, not
counting the curves. This estimate I later found to be erroneous, as he
measured not quite four feet, and was not a he at all.
The snake, therefore, paid not the slightest attention to me, but
glided deliberately under a large flat stone which lay directly in front
of me. Jim, after waiting a moment to metaphorically cast a few roses
at my feet and moisten his palms by a method common to those who
win their daily bread by the sweat of the brow, proceeded to pry up
the stone, using his cudgel as a lever. The rattling, which had stopped
for a moment (probably to replace a worn out battery), now started up
again with the loud pedal on. Jim soon lifted the stone and held it
up, throwing a smaller one under it, and then began to poke the snake
with his stick. There followed some thrashing about under the stone,
accompanied by fierce rattling, then the snake ran out, and in my direc-
tion again. But this time I had him spotted, and landed heavily upon
his low but intellectual forehead. He rang off immediately and lay
still. We were therefore greatly surprised to hear more rattles pro-
ceeding from under the same stone. More poking with our sticks dis-
lodged another reptile, which was dispatched by my companion. But
the rattling still kept on, and by peering under the stone we could see
another snake, somewhat smaller than the first two. This one refused
to come out, but was in a great rage, rattling furiously and striking at
our sticks. Finally he did sally forth, but was so quick that he got off
among some small stones and disappeared before we could stop him.
199
We now noticed a peculiar, musty smell in the air, which often serves
to warn one of the presence of rattlesnakes. I have heard many people
assert that this odor is very similar to that of cucumbers, but it seems
to me that individuals possessed of such elastic imaginations might just
as well give them an extra stretch and then swear it is more like violets
or orange blossoms. The plain truth of the matter is that one can
obtain an excellent imitation of it by sticking his head into a small
shed occupied by a family of goats. Jim, whose warlike spirit was now
thoroughly aroused, was for proceeding with fire and sword, so to
speak, into the heart of the quarry. As it had become exceedingly hot,
and as our legs were unprotected, I recommended a cessation of hostil-
ities for that day, and we went back to camp with our snakes, which
proved to be very beautiful females, each having secreted upon her
person about eight eggs.
After that day I encountered rattlers in the woods on a number o^
occasions, and every time they warned me of danger before I saw them.
I have a respect for the fair spirit they show in fighting, and have com-
posed the following verses in honor of the species.
THE RATTLESNAKE.
Th' rattlesnake air much abused.
And don't deserve it nuther;
To hear some town folks talk an' blow.
You'd think they'd dern sight ruther
Run up agin most anything
What bites er claws, er has a sting.
So when they come up here they bring
Some kind o' grog er other.
Fact is th' rattler's jist 'bout right;
He never does no fightin'
Onless somebody stirs him up
An' makes him do his bitin'.
If folks 'ud only let him be.
He'd stay right with his family.
Round some old rock, er stump, er tree.
In quietude delightin'.
Now then you take most any man
What's mad, er in a flurry.
He's apt to act in some mean way,
Thet later gives him worry.
But rattlers never is so low
As not to warn a guileless foe.
They always make that rattle go,
No matter what's the hurry.
Yours truly,
Wilkes-Barre, Pa., Jan. 29, 'ci. Ed. Shortz.
200
WILLIAM WEEKS SILVEY.
Dear Pop: — Inclosed please find a blank, which I have filled out in
such a manner that I trust it may aid you in the making up of the
book.
A letter is, I think, rather out of the question just now, as I fear
that I could not make it interesting enough to be worthy of space.
Probably I have been as "long" of vicissitudes as the "Vizier of the
Two-horned Alexander," but mine must, like his, wait to be con-
fidentially told ; so please to wait until some time when I have you alone.
Sincerely,
W. W. SiLVEY.
East Orange, N. J., April lo, 1901.
SAMUEL SMALL, JR.
Small is another of the incorrigibles, absolutely refusing to give a
word of information about himself. He is known to be rusticating on
the banks of the historic Codorus and incidentally engaged in mercan-
tile pursuits.
FREDERICK LORENZE SMITH.
Fred's retiring disposition is the cause of much trouble and anxiety
to the secretary. The Pinkerton agency long ago gave up the job of
finding him, and even the special Sherlock Holmes system has acknowl-
edged defeat. He was seen in Princeton one day in April with the
Fordham College baseball team, but, before he could be buttonholed,
he disappeared and covered his retreat with such skill that specially
trained bloodhounds failed to locate the trail. He has spent most o^
his time since graduation in training and coaching various prominent
college teams.
JAMES MORGAN SMITH.
No word has been received from Smith since '98. In a roundabout
way the secretary learns that he was lately seen in San Francisco,
wending his way towards the Klondike. Let us hope that there he
will find a new El Dorado.
JAMES SMITHAM.
My Dear Classmate: — I received your letter to-day, containing the in-
formation that I am a delinquent. Some time ago I answered a list of
printed questions forwarded by you. It was my impression then that
those answers would make up the Record, although it strikes me,
now, the reading would be somewhat dry if confined to them alone.
Since leaving Princeton I have confined my work to legal matters.
I took law at Harvard, and after studying in the law office of Bertolette
& Barber, of Mauch Chunk, Pa., I was admitted, and am at present
practicing at the Carbon County Bar. I don't know, "Pop," whether
the foregoing is the kind of stuff you want or not. There are too
many I's in it to suit me.
201
I read in to-day's paper that Lafayette's basketball team defeated
Princeton last night. Cornell was bad enough ; but Lafayette makes me
extremely weary. Sincerely yours,
James Smitham.
Mauch Chunk, Pa., March 7, 1901.
NATHAN SMITH SMYSER.
Dear Pop: — There is very little to tell in my case, as it has been
largely a repetition of the same story, viz., "plugging away" at the
law. I started in to study law at my old home. Fort Wayne, Ind., in
the law office of Barrett & Morris. Mr. Morris is a Princeton 'y^
man. I stayed in that office until December, 1898, when I came to the
"Windy City" and entered the law firm of Wilber, Eldridge & Alden,
which firm was succeeded by the firm of Alden, Latham & Young in
September, 1899. I have been with this latter firm ever since that time.
I took my examinations for admission to the bar in October, 1900, and
passed them successfully, so I am now a full-fledged attorney-at-law.
I was very sorry that circumstances would not permit me to join the
fellows at our Triennial Reunion, in June last. We have a flourishing,
informal organization of the '97 Princeton men in Chicago, and have
had as many as ten men present. We meet on an average of once
a month. This brings us about as close to our dear old Alma Mater
as anything could.
Pop, you certainly are to be congratulated on the way you have
held our class together, and the way you have patiently kept after the
delinquent ones. You shall have your reward. What more can I say
than that I hope your success in the future will be equal to that of
the past. With best wishes for yoxir success in all your undertakings,
as well as for every member of the dear old class, I am.
Very sincerely yours,
Nathan S. Smyser.
Chicago, III., Jan. 30, 1901.
RICHARD BRIGGS SMYTH.
Dear Pop: — Peccavi! I have come to a realization of my faults,
since the receipt of a most strenuous letter from our president, and
promptly proceed to give you "the story of my life."
I was admitted to the bar of South Carolina in May, 1900, and
since then have spent all my time, and my overflowing Southern energy,
in the practice of the noble profession of law, with more or less suc-
cess.
Little has happened to me in the way of news, and I am at a loss
how to write a letter that will interest the rest of my class. I have a
visit, once in a while, from some "old grad," and receive rather than
give news.
I find so little news in the Princetonian about the class — why is that?
Won't the fellows send you items of interest? Or is the rest of the
class in the same condition of "innocuous desuetude" that I am in?
202
I know this is not the kind of letter you want, but I have nothing
else to tell about myself, and that is the whole story.
Most seriously yours,
Richard B. Smyth.
Charleston, S. C, April i, igoi.
CHARLES EDWARD SPEER, JR.
The last message from Speer promises that he "will write in a few
days." The non-arrival of his letter argues that in Pittsburgh the days
are uncommonly long. He is engaged in the banking business and it is
rumored that he is in a fair way to become a Pittsburgh edition of the
Rothschilds.
SELDEN SPENCER.
Dear Pop: — My life since college has not been a very eventful one,
but I shall briefly give you some idea of what I have been doing dur-
ing that time. In the fall of '97 Francis Lane and I started in the sec-
ond year of the Missouri Medical College, having received credit for
medical work done at Princeton, with the understanding that we were
to make up some back work. We made up our work during the
year, and, in the summer vacation, I took some courses at the Uni-
versity of Edinburgh, in Scotland.
In the spring of '99 Lane and I graduated from the Missouri Medi-
cal College in the last three-year class graduated from that institu-
tion, which is now the Medical Department of the Washington Uni-
versity. After my graduation from college I received an appointment
to fill out an unexpired term as interne in the St. Louis City Hospital.
In June my term expired and I managed to get East to our second an-
nual reunion. That summer I remained in St. Louis, doing clinical
work, and during the next winter I received another St. Louis City
Hospital appointment. My second term also expired in June, and this
time I got East to our great Triennial Reunion. This fall I came on
to Norm Reeves' wedding, but didn't get to Princeton, though I saw
a good many of the fellows. On my way to Europe I spent a week in
the East and managed to get down to that Yale game.
I sailed from New York on the steamer Westernland on the 21st day
of November, and landed in Antwerp on December 2, after a rather
rough voyage. From Antwerp I came almost direct to Berlin, and
have remained here ever since, studying medicine and wrestling with
the German language, especially the latter.
On New Year's evening I went out to see the excitement, and was
walking down Unter den Linden, when some one slapped me on the
back and said, "Well, 'Father' Spencer, what are you doing here?" I
turned around and, to my surprise and joy, saw old "Eddy" Elliott.
After Eddy and I had had a good little talk, with sufficient explana-
tions, he informed me that there was to be a reunion the next night of
the Princeton men in Berlin. I had known of only one Princeton
man's being in Berlin and I was very much surprised, but greatly
203
overjoyed to get that news. Well, to cut the story short, we had our
reunion and it was a grand success. There are eight men here from
Princeton, but one was not present at that gathering, so we were
seven — two of us from '93, and one each from Seminary '97, and Col-
lege '94, '96, '98 and '99. Ninety-seven, as is ever the case, was in the
majority. We got a small room to ourselves, in one of the restaurants
here, and we stayed there till far into next morning. We talked over
the old days and sang the old songs, and again and again those old
walls echoed and re-echoed our "triples." We closed with "Old Nassau,"
and we resolved that this should not be our last meeting. I wouldn't
have dreamed or hoped for such a Princeton reunion over here.
Well, that brings me up to date, but I shall close with a few
words about my intentions. I expect to stay in Berlin about six
months, and, after doing a little general medical work, I intend to pay
special attention to the ear and the nose. I expect to go to Vienna
for a while, and perhaps to Paris and London. After a year's work
in this part of the world, I expect to go back to St. Louis and assist my
father in his office.
Well, I must close, for I am a little rushed and I am afraid that this
may not reach you in time. I hope, though, that it will. I am, as ever.
Yours faithfully,
Father Spencer.
Berlin, Germany, Jan. 31, 1901.
NICHOLAS STAHL.
Dear Fellows: — "Pop" wrote in November. I reply in February.
Some of you have written already. You're to be congratulated, either
because your ability to stand "hot air" is great, or because you haven't
so much of it as those who, three times a day, frugally "replenish
the inner man" in company with our festive and frivolous "Pop."
Thrice three times a day I learn that I ought to have written long ago.
I know it. I make no excuse. I merely ask under the circumstances to
be "pitied rather than censured."
Notwithstanding all your smiles, we who know it, claim that life in
Lawrenceville is "strenuous" — it couldn't be otherwise, when Pop sets
the pace — early mornings and late nights and sufficient filling for a
healthy weariness of the flesh.
But there are compensations; we get regular arc-light gleams from
the sidelights of our secretary's character. He was, to us, in our under-
graduate guilelessness, a man unknown. Few of you, I fancy, have
had the pleasure of learning that our secretary's quickest way of
commanding — from the land of dreams — your attention and profanity
is by the gentle propulsion you-ward of a suit-case, dumbbell or two,
not to say shoes and pillows.
Nor would you have believed him capable of beguiling an unsuspect-
ing youth from the classic shades of Harvard into the mad, mysterious
maelstrom of Philadelphia wickedness. It is well understood here that
the people of Pennsylvania are now rejoicing in the senatorship of his
204
fast friend, Colonel Quay, largely through our little "Pop's" ardent
labors in his behalf.
Tliis next is something I think you ought to know : As a teacher
he is not a success. So little so that many educators in Trenton were
anxious to rid our school of such an incubus, by making him principal
of the High School. But — he is with us still ! Amen !
Tyler — as in the old days — is of us, but not ivith us. And I haven't
heard of his offering any of his old-time dentist certificates for his
absence from town. You knew "Ty"; we see A. Clinton Tyler, A.B.
(Princeton), spectacled, muustachioed, thinned to 218, stern and se-
vere. He used to be somewhat of a Princeton enthusiast ; he is still.
He often orders 50-cent tiger chromos and rejoices to find them $7
etchings.
My fellowship year at Princeton landed me here in Lawrenceville,
after a summer's work at Harvard, where I gained a sufficiency of the
broadening culture of a great university to offset the narrowing in-
fluences of a country college. Two years passed very pleasantly with
masters and boys in the Davis House and my time most generously
devoted to anything no one else found sufficiently alluring. Then
something went wrong and when the smoke cleared away I found my-
self in the Hamill House, teaching just science.
My foreign travels are limited to the delightful summer just passed,
canoeing through the Kawarthagamihigawagamog Lakes with Mo-
ment and Hamilton, '96, and our elfish friend Tyler. Tyler's
head would sometimes fill with the excitement of the occasion,
and the enthusiasm of the nonce, and he would gravely declare
that he didn't "believe the Lord ever m.ade a rapids" — he wasn't so
sure about waterfalls — "that he couldn't shoot successfully, if he only
had a paddle strong enough." His further remarks about finding some
one able to steer a canoe are personal, and therefore uninteresting.
I have always greatly respected a man contemplating marriage, and
have even thought I should like to try it, if only I were sure, in my faint-
heartedness, how it would turn out. But evidently the strain of antici-
pation is tremendous. Tyler is wan at 218 and Keener scarce casts a
shadow at 187 ; nervous preoccupation and habitual absence from town
indicate an alarming state of mental tension. If so the strong are af-
fected, what would a weakling do? But if the truth must be told, I
fear I have loved "not wisely, but too many." I am the Undesired.
In "offices of honor" I loll too seldom ; but those of "trust" my
numerous debts make a pressing necessity. I do, however, belong to
the Nassau Club, Princeton, and the Princeton Club, Philadelphia.
Politically, I went with the crowd last November, but I hate Quay
because Keener loves him. And just in this connection, let me warn
you, classmates all, that our wily secretary brusquely refused Jack
Williams' generous offer to write an authentic and unbiased biography
of our president and secretary, and told him, moreover, that he'd cut out
of any letter any allusion to himself, for it wasn't tnie! I have a pull
with the printer, so I hope to escape the censor.
205
Fellows, no one could enjoy more than I our good old reunions, the
return to the old campus, and another sight of you again, each and
every one. Some of you at times are hereabouts, in your ignorance not
knowing whom to do or how to do them. My latch string is always on
your side and it will give us Laurentians great pleasure to have you pull
it hard and often. In '97 we never wore our hearts on our coatsleeves,
but you know, fellows, how much it means when I write,
Yours for '97, N. Stahl.
Lawernceville, N. J., Feb. 18, 1901.
EDWIN McMASTER STANTON.
"Eddie" tackled the University of Pennsylvania law course and ex-
tracted therefrom the right to practice upon the unprotected public of
the Keystone State. Finding Philadelphia too slow for his energetic
nature, he sought for a stage better suited to the display of his talents.
Pittsburgh was the place selected. But with his usual faculty for find-
ing adventure he has become lost in the mazes of the Smoky City. A
suitable reward will be given for his discovery and rescue.
ARTHUR NELSON STARIN.
Dear "Pop": — This must needs be a brief and prosy epistle, a few
facts here and there of my daily life for the past four years, as I
don't intend to take up space set apart for the adventures and illustrious
doings of others far more worthy than your humble servant.
Ever since leaving college, in the winter of '94, I have been in the
banking business, starting with the Penn National Bank of this city.
In the spring of '99, I entered the Philadelphia National Bank, where
I am engaged at this present time.
My life has been uneventful with one important exception, that of my
marriage last June, to Miss Laura Corse Pitfield, also of Germantowa
After living quietly at home for a year, we decided to take upon our-
selves the responsibilities and vicissitudes of housekeeping, and at the
present writing we are in the midst of getting settled in our new quar-
ters.
Two years ago this coming August, having decided upon an outing
of a rather unusual character, I took a sailing trip with a Princeton '98
man, on a three-masted schooner bound from this port to Beverly,
Mass., loaded with coal. It took us two weeks to reach our destina-
tion, owing to storms and head-winds, but we thoroughly enjoyed the
trip, although we came within an ace of being wrecked on some shoals
off Cape Cod. The Mate had mistaken the location of two buoys
marking the channel, and the Captain discovered the error just in
time to bring the ship up into the wind, so that we passed the bell-buoy
tolling mournfully scarcely ten feet away. Terra Urnia suited me after
that experience, for some time.
With many thoughts and best wishes for the prosperity and health of
each member of the old class,
Yours in the bonds of '97,
Germantown, Pa., May 7, 1901. Arthur Nelson Starin.
206
ROBERT FULTON STERLING.
My Dear Old Pop: — I have been threatening, for some moons, to
write to you and the class, "than whom there are none such." It does
not matter to which I direct this missive, for the class and Pop are
synonymous terms. Heretofore my threat has meant little; but now
I fear you are in for it— at least, so many of you as care to read this
artless tale of a country parson. My life has been exceedingly un-
eventful of late years, and I bid fair to become one of those college
fledgings who go out and straightway sink to the bottom of some
social duck-pond, and never raise so much as a bald head above its
surface till the day they go back to their beginnings. Well, here I
am, squatted on the bottom of the pond and sending up a bubble or two,
this morning, to the world above — that is, to the class of '97 — just to say
that I am alive and that the pond isn't half bad — one of the signs that I
am stuck in the mud, no doubt.
In brief, I spent the summer after graduation trying to decide in
what profession my shortcomings would be least conspicuous. I never
doted, as did some, on dissecting cats, as a preliminary to medicine;
had not sufficient horse sense for business ; liked law ; but somehow
was led to assume the role of a priest. When that was decided,
straight I went to Princeton, where the quadrangle didn't seem quite
right without Roy Cox's calf bleat and Bert Miller's lion howl ; but
there was still the meeting in Pop's room, where a set of dear old
reprobate loafers would convince ( ?) Henry Russell of the immorality
of all mathematicians. Three years went by like a summer's vacation,
and I was set down at my present home on the Saturday after the Re-
union, bedraggled like a wet chicken, with the rain running down my
back from an umbrella, and my knees shaking, for Sunday was but six
hours distant. Here I found I was expected to speak of a Sunday in a
way to interest, if possible, the majority and yet not to disturb the slum-
bers of a few who are in the habit of taking a nap during service, to
improve their spiritual condition. By way of amusement, I have made
the acquaintance of the black bass in the Susquehanna, and he is a
fish worth knowing; have got a pacing horse who is said to have speed,
and am now on the lookout for a setter pup — with an eye on some
quail that keep whistling all summer, outside my window. When the
aforesaid pup arrives, the three of us — horse, dog and dominie — expect
to live in great domestic bliss and tranquillity, and my heart will expand
and grow in the spring sunshine like cucumbers and corn. "Be
durned" if I don't believe that is poetic, so it is high time I ceased this
nonsense.
One word more, in all seriousness. I am a parson, and I do hereby
solemnly covenant and agree to perform scot-free to all '97 men, the
ceremony containing the words, "love, honor and obey." All others
must pay the usual fee of umpteen dollars, or its equivalent in potatoes
and cabbage.
Most sincerely yours,
Robert F. Sterling.
Glenville, Md., Feb. 25, '01.
207
WILLIAM ADAMS WALKER STEWART.
My Dear Keener: — Since leaving college I have spent three years
in learning the law as taught at Columbia, and with such marked suc-
cess that I have been admitted to the bar of New York State. On
May I, 1900, I married Miss Frances E. de Forest of this city, and was
assisted on that occasion by Messrs. Palmer and Magie, who per-
formed their arduous duties to their own entire satisfaction. I have,
unfortunately, done nothing else worthy of record in so illustrious
a history as that of the class of '97, and will, therefore, refrain from
taking space which will be more profitably filled by the ready pens and
imaginations of the rest of the class.
Very sincerely yours,
William A. W. Stewart.
New York City, N. Y., April 8th, 1901.
HENRY FORD STOCKWELL.
Dear Pop: — So I am one of the "delinquents," and am chargeable
with "inexcusable" indifference, and am responsible for your many
"days of anguish and harrowing of soul." I plead "non vult contendere"
to all, and throw myself on your mercy. To be sure. Pop, you have,
no doubt, already done the generous act by anticipation in your own
thoughts, of the only suiEcient excuse which a young sprig of the law
has to offer — to wit: a rush of clients and a crush of business in gen-
eral. And, by the way, did you ever yet meet one of this species,
who was not complaining of bad health and a general breakdown
(physical, of course, not mental) because he was overworked? No,
Pop, we are all made up out of the same clay, and I am persuaded that
it would be the height of folly for me to thus impose upon your
credulity. So let me say in just a word what has been my lot since
leaving the Princeton fold.
A few weeks after my graduation you might have found me in a
Camden law office working like a N. Edwards Poler. For the next
year and a half I continued as aforesaid. My bar examinations once
passed (November, 1898), I settled down at the address below, grasped
the hard world by the horns (and he did not seem to notice in the
least my presence), determined to wrest from him the living (and that
is what a young fellow has to consider at the outset, all wise books to
the contrary notwithstanding), which he owed me. Since then I have
done several legal "stunts," and at the present writing can look my
landlady in the eye without fear of a bill being thrust in my face.
But have I not yet shaken new life into the New Jersey Bar by my
original and brilliant ideas? Have I not been slated for a judgeship,
or a what-not? No, Pop, I have not even addressed a farmer's meeting
on "Bryan" or "McKinley." Then, too, I have not doubled my for-
tune by taking a wife ! Surely my lot is a barren waste, when placed
beside that of some of my honored classmates.
But, be this all as it may, I hope to take a little of the glory which
208
belongs to the great class of 1897, even though my share be but a
reflection.
I had hoped to be in Princeton to-morrow to kick up my heels
again in honor of Father George, but I am denied that pleasure. Yet
I am persuaded that his memory will not be neglected, as I believe '97
is to be on board with a goodly contingent. A letter from you, dear
Pop, always infuses new life into your most remiss, yet well-meaning
classmate, Stockwell.
Camden, N. J., Feb. 21, '01.
SAMUEL AUGUSTUS BRIDGES STOPP.
My Dear Pop: — Had my air-ship come into port to-day I should
certainly sail over to Jersey to-night to visit the grand old man of
'97, and hear of the fortunes of the best boys in the world. It seems
but yesterday that I met and greeted so many of them at our Triennial,
and yet the winter winds and heavy rains of December are driving
about this ordinarily peaceful spot in a storm, not harder to grapple
with than the patristic lore and mediccval theology and scholastic
subtleties and sixteenth century dogmas with which I must do battle.
I am trying to cultivate an acquaintance with Augustine, and Bernard
of Clairvaux, and Thomas Aquinas, and a number of other venerables
of later date, but a letter, fragrant of the Princeton life of to-day,
has a charm that none of these ancient worthies can cast from me.
Not that they would if they could. It was their misfortune not to have
been at Princeton.
You ask me so many question that I cannot answer, and until I write
something, or marry some one, or engage in some illustrious avocation,
it will hardly be necessary to send me the list again. My answers
will have to be a duplicate of what I have been sending you for several
years past. I come in contact with many Germans here, and so die
Deutsche Sprache is often on my lips. After the depths of German
theological thought into which I must often go, and the mazes of
abstractions in which I am liable to lose myself, it is a relief to get
into the clear beauties of German literature and music, though Wagner,
of whom I profess to be enamored, is often anything but clear. May I
tell you that even seminarians enjoy the grand opera and the Boston
Symphony concerts, although from a lofty gallery— perhaps the more,
because of their high position?
Come to see me, so that we can talk over old times together, and
when we have a clear day we will go to the Wissahickon or visit some
of the historic places in Germantown. I am living on part of the
Revolutionary battlefield.
I know the care of so many boys is wearing on you, and per-
haps your hair is turning, as you anxiously wonder where they are,
and why they so often fail to think of you. But keep up heart. The
boys of '97 will do you credit by and by.
Your friend and classmate,
S. A. Bridges Stopp.
Mt. Airy, Philadelphia, Pa., Dec. 6, '00,
209
HENRY STUDDIFORD.
Dear Pop: — Your last circular note, apprising me of my failure ta
write for the Record, has just been received. I had been hoping that
perhaps the filling out of your question blank, to the best of my ability —
and I had to answer unprepared to most of that — would satisfy your
craving for information. For really that outline covers the history of
my life since graduation about as well as a more detailed account could
do. However, since you won't be happy till you get a letter, I beg to
submit the following.
The summer after graduation I took the rest cure, knowing that it
would be the last long vacation I would get for many moons, and^
about October ist, started in to do "the strenuous" with the firm of
Mclntyre & Wardwell, commission merchants, of this city. I continued
with them until the spring of '98; and then, having learned the geog-
raphy of lower New York pretty thoroughly, in my capacity of mes-
senger, etc., I concluded to seek a wider field, and entered the employ
of the Mexican International Railroad Co., 23 Broad St., where I am
at present working.
I have kept pretty close to the "metropolis" all the time, my principal
journeyings being occasional trips to The Burg, and daily commuting
to Plainfield, N. J., during the past year.
I am glad to report that so far I have managed to avoid all "en-
tangling alliances ;" and if my luck holds, I will not follow Doggie
Yeatts' example for many years to come.
The ordinary experiences of a man chasing the almighty dollar in
New York are too humdrum and prosaic to admit of much dissection,
and though I'd like to give you a lot of interesting news of things that
have happened to me since I left Old Nassau, I fear to do so lest I
should be held up as an example of that maxim imparted in Jack
Hibben's course, that "all men are liars." However, I intend to hustle
around between now and our quinquennial and see if I cannot scare
up some interesting "copy." If successful in the attempt I won't
hesitate so long about writing as I have done in the present instance.
Please accept my apologies for the long delay, and with best wishes
and regards, believe me,
Yours in the Faith,
H. Studdiford.
New York City, N. Y., Feb. 27, '01.
FREDERICK STURGES, JR.
Dear "Pop" and Classmates: — Far be it from me to wish to delay-
any game where '97 is about to play. It has merely been my unwilling-
ness to burden your ears with "the story of my life," that has kept
me from relating it.
In October, 1897, I went into the comptroller's office of the New York
Central R.R., and remained there until the first of the present year,
when I graduated from the over-energetic railroad life, and came down
210
to the equally severe existence of Wall St. It will now be my en-
deavor to do everybody and everything within reach.
My three years with the Central passed very quickly, and I found
the work most interesting and beneficial. It was made all the more
pleasant for me by the presence in the department of several Prince-
ton graduates.
By a careful study of the class statistics you will learn any further
information you may desire.
With best wishes.
Very truly yours,
Frederick Sturges, Jr., '97'.
New York City, N. Y., April 5, '01.
FRANK DELANEY TAGGART.
"The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea," and Taggart, "home-
ward plods his weary way." He is a farmer, and consistently refuses
to furnish any information about himself.
CHARLES IRVING TAYLOR.
Dear Pop: — My delay in replying to your various requests for a letter
is due in part to carelessness, but chiefly to the fact that I was unable
to think of anything in particular that had happened to me since I
left Princeton, and which I thought would be of interest to the readers
of a class book. I must say, though, that your untiring efforts have
brought me to time, and I am forced to write a few words to show
my appreciation of our secretary's work.
After leaving Princeton I studied law at the New York Law School,
and in due course was graduated; since then I have been endeavoring
to learn how to practice law, and, as the experience of all young
lawyers is, to a large extent, the same, I will not bore any one with a
repetiton of detailed steps.
Trusting that I have not waited too long before writing, and hoping
that the book is the success it should be, considering the work required
to prepare it, I am.
Very sincerely,
Charles I. Taylor^
New York City, N. Y., April 9, '01.
SYDNEY WENTWORTH TAYLOR.
My Dear Pop: — All of your little notices have come to hand, and I
regret to have been the cause of so much trouble to you. To furnish
the Record with a contribution this time will be an impossibility. Try
as I will I can't get down to the task. I have delayed sending the
present letter in hopes something would happen to suspend temporarily
this never-ending work, work, work. I can't get the time to give my
letter proper thought, so I shall have to beg the indulgence of the
class.
You see. Pop, I've got a better thing here in Texas than usually falls
to the lot of so young a man. It's a job fit for a man with a vast deal
more experience than I possess; hence I have not only to slave to
hold down the job, but I have also to make a "rep." A great deal
depends upon what sort of a showing I make.
I am awfully sorry to have been the cause of "gray hairs" and
"premature old age." Please forgive me and believe me,
One of the children,
S. W. Taylor, Jr.
Houston, Tex., April lo, 'oi.
CHARLES HOWARD TEETER.
Ady Dear Keener: — I have heard your cry of distress and hasten to
respond, although I am very sure that I filled out the blank I received
from you some weeks ago, especially as I sent with it a personal letter,
and have been damning you for some time because I have not received
any answer. So this will be a second edition. As your recent fire and
brimstone communication contained no blank, I shall have to scratch
off informally the few facts that may serve to fill space in the Record
of the "Ever Glorious."
I am still teaching in Hasbrouck Institute. My address is still 19
Duncan Ave., Jersey City, and my permanent address is East Strouds-
burg, Pa.
My salary is still small, but I have continued hopes of getting a
boost.
As you know, I was married on April 28, 1900, to Miss Josephine E.
Pearce, at Minsi, Pa., and as yet there are no visible fruits of our
union.
I was not at the reunion last year — more's the pity, — and have done
nothing deserving to be chronicled — unless it be that I have wiped away
.a large part of my debts and have tried to lead the life of an honest
man.
Yours truly,
Chas. H. Teeter.
Jersey City, N. J., Feb. 6, '01.
LELAND BURR TERRY.
My Dear "Pop": — The old saying, "there is no rest for the weary,"
is certainly applicable to my case, for it seems that when I have most
to do I get a letter from the Secretary of the "Great and Glorious,"
demanding either a short history of my life for the past twelve months,
or some other contribution.
This time, "Pop," I am going to reply, for my sympathies are with
you, because I know the pleasures (?) of writing a letter and receiving
no answer.
Since leaving Princeton, years ago as it seems to me, my work has
been varied indeed; I have done most everything, from clerking in a
store to pleading a case at the bar of justice. It took only about six
months after leaving Princeton for me to find out that I was only a
212
human being, endowed with life, able to sleep and eat three meals a
day; and as yet I have done nothing more startling that that. I
spent two years at the University of Buffalo, trying to get a few
legal principles instilled into my weary brain, and what that has done
for me still remains an uncertainty, and I presume always will, for,
as you may well see, my present occupation hardly deals with legal
problems.
I still remain a free man, but things look dangerous, as that boy
with the bow and the basket full of arrows, that laid Dud Riggs and
others low, early in the game, has been annoying me of late to a certain
degree. Man is weak and I shall undoubtedly fall. One would
naturally think that my flame of enthusiasm for Princeton had about
been extinguished since I have not been able to attend any reunions,
but let me disabuse their minds of such a thought ; my thoughts are
always of Princeton and no one is more proud of her achievements
than I.
Into the details of my life for the past three years I will not enter,
for it has been the same as that of most individuals. Having cast
some light on what I have been doing that might be of interest,
and not wishing to rob of space any one that took an active part in
the "Dean's" English, I am as ever,
Your obedient servant,
Leland B. Terry.
Salamanca, N. Y., Dec. 30, '00,
BENJAMIN HARVEY THOMPSON.
Dear Pop: — I have been putting off my letter in the hope that time
would give me the opportunity to answer at least one of your questions
with more than a "yes"' or "no." It hasn't come and I cannot longer
delay my letter. I am sorry that I cannot add to the list of "things
done" by members of the glorious class.
I know of one incident which may be of interest, as it concerns the
head of the family. Last summer I was in Paris at the time of the
International Athletic Games. Bob Garrett was there with his discus.
But the cunning which made possible that famous telegram from Athens
was lacking. Bob had literally lost his grip. Three times Bob hurled
the discus and three times it went off at a right angle to the proper
direction, and, hitting the trees, dropped down on the crowd. The first
time it was humorous, the second time it became dangerous, and at the
third attempt the crowd was yelling something which sounded like
"A bas le Garrett." To me, wondering why it was, there seemed to
be but one reason. When Bob appeared on the Athletic Grounds at
Paris, that beard, which graced the reunion last Jime, was missing.
It was another case of Samson.
In answer to one of your questions I would say that the largest
and most important public assemblage with which I have had anything
to do was the one which gave Roy Cox and his bride a send-off at
the Harrisburg Railroad Station. It was enthusiastic.
213
As for myself, Pop, I am studying law, and, in the near future, will
take the examination for admission to the bar at Pittsburgh, I am not
married. Sincerely yours,
Benjamin PI. ("Buck") Thompson.
Pittsburgh, Pa., Feb. 22, '01.
EDWARD CAMERON THOMPSON.
My Dear "Pop": — Nothing short of your sarcasm could have induced
me to write a letter. It is true my conscience hurts me. And, indeed,
I have felt myself to be something of the traitor to class and college
loyalty. But to be classed as a member of '96! "Pop," you cannot con-
ceive how it hurt. Your shot went true and it struck home.
I cannot imagine anything more uninteresting than the record of my
career since I left college. Life in a medical school — if one is at all
conscientious — is a far different story than that of the happy, half-lazy
unresponsible days of our college years. To the study of medicine
there certainly is no end. And the more one knows, if he is honest
with himself, the more modest he must feel as to his knowledge.
About a dozen '97 men are in my class in Columbia University, and
this, it is true, makes it somewhat pleasanter. But here there is no
singing on the steps, no camping on the green. Our pipes are smoked
in solitude, and the most imaginative would not compare our lives to
those found in Arden Forest. But I am not trying to draw a gloomy
picture. While, indeed, we may lack that good comradeship which
marked the good old days at Princeton, we are all happy. For to
succeed in medicine (and we are all going to succeed) one must love
his work. And this has been the balm which has enabled us to
pursue the hard and stony path to a medical profession. And these
have been the arduous duties, and this the new love, which, I fear,
have kept some of us from gladdening the heart of our dear old Secre-
tary by contributing to the Triennial Record. I am,
Affectionately yours,
Ed. C. Thompson.
New York City, N. Y., March 5, '01.
SAMUEL HUSTON THOMPSON, JR.
To the Class: — My career, since leaving college, has been an excit-
ing and fairly prosperous one. To begin with, I had the consummate
nerve, after leaving college, to start right in tutoring a man. This bit
of information will probably call for a loud guffaw from some of our
first group men, but there is nothing like necessity to force a man to do
the impossible. My system was a good deal like that of the coyote
when chased by a hound — I kept a few feet ahead of my pupil in the
knowledge of the subject.
This task occupied me till September of '97, when Oberlin College
demanded my services as a coach for their football team, but not
till I had written them that I was the only real thing in the football
line. Here, I suppose, it will be proper for some of the football men
214
to laugh! But by some hook or crook the OberHn team turned out
well. During its itinerary we met Bill Church's team — Perdue, and
Dave Edward's team— Ohio State University. It would have amused
our classmates to watch Bill, Dave and me doing the Pinkerton act-
trying to catch each other coaching during the games. My team was
treated splendidly by both of these opponents, which only goes to show
that Princeton men, wherever they may be, inculcate in those about
them the true spirit of sportsmanship and hospitality.
After the football season I returned to Pittsburgh, and took up the
study of law, at the same time undertaking again the cat-and-dog life
of tutoring, in the spare hours. When spring came I was a nervous
wreck, my pupil having taken the position of the coyote, in the race
for knowledge, and I, that of the dog.
During the summer I recuperated in Canada and Michigan, where
I saw a great deal of Dan Altland, '98. I am afraid Dan's '97 friends
would not know him. Dan, the web-footed catcher of the "Consoli-
dated" and the "Tigers," is an out-and-out dude, living in Detroit and
putting on more "lugs" than Masson did in his palmiest days.
The next fall Lehigh became hypnotized and said that I must be their
coach. It was a repetition of the previous season — a great deal of hard
work, considerable excitement, and never becoming a cinch, as some
of the public would have us believe. If any one thinks coaching is a
snap, I would refer him to Bill, or Net, or Fred, and they will inform
him in stronger language than I dare record here.
Lehigh met but one team that season, coached by a Princeton man.
Nearly all the other teams had Pennsylvania men for their "professors,"
and as we won from all the smaller colleges who were coached by these
my cup of football joy, in revenge for '94 was almost enough to satisfy
even a Princeton man.
After the season, I took up my residence with John Graham, in New
York, and attended the New York Law School. It would have opened
the eyes of the polers of our class to see the way some of the most
notorious loafers of '<y] worked at the law school. The time passed
on wings, and, in June, John Graham and I journeyed out to Denver
and took our bar examinations. There were fifty-three men to come
up. When that poor, scared and worn-out gang were huddled to-
gether in the supreme court room, like a herd of sheep in a storm, for
their oral examinations, and the chief justice made us stand up, one by
one, and answer questions for five minutes, before the whole court,
I confess I had cold feet and clammy hands. I sat for two hours
awaiting my turn, never knowing what I should be examined upon,
nor when I should be called.
But my turn finally did come, and then I thought it was all off. I
got the buck ague so badly in my voice and legs that one might have
thought I had been jagged. However, just I was about to pass it all up,
one of the judges gave me a kindly smile, which braced me up greatly,
and I got through in some inexplainable way.
John Graham tore his shirt, metaphorically speaking, making the
21S
highest mark of all the men from eastern colleges, and there were
a good many from Michigan and Columbia. Graham and I started
into practice in the fall, forming a partnership, which has managed
to make expenses so far.
During the fall Lehigh once more got "nutty" and said I was to be
their coach. As I have remarked before, coaching is all alike. I had
my share of hard work, excitement, and a little less success.
Since then I have been trying to work up a practice in this great
country. Colorado is the most fascinating place in the world, with
its magnificent scenery and bracing atmosphere. If it were not for
Princeton and my family I should be a long time in returning east.
I see that I am getting verbose, so I shall have to ring down the cur-
tain; but I am sure that you will permit me in closing, to say that I
have seen a good many colleges since I was graduated, and have met
a great many college men, and I am more convinced than ever before,
that, for pure friendship, college spirit, and patriotism for one's coun-
try, the Princeton alumnus stands on a pinnacle far above all other
college men. Very sincerely,
S. H. Thompson, Jr.
Denver, Colo., Dec. 21, '00.
FREDERICK RIDGELY TORRENCE.
Dear Pop: — I have, if my eyes deceive me not, received this day,
April 1st, the second of two postal cards, both headed in the dot and
dash language. Now, this postal card is, setting aside and in no
way to be confused with — as Mr. Kipling would say — those other
articles of war in the shape of innumerable letters in which you have
begged, plead, denounced, anathematized, hoped, expostulated, whistled,
coaxed, praised and performed in every other way that was possible
for the true and faithful officer and man you are in trying to secure
by some means the letter of that most unworthy member, m}^self — I
only trust that the trouble and worry my own delinquency has caused
you may serve as an example to be shunned by other members. My
reason for not writing before is a good one, however. I suffer from
a diseased condition of The-Will-To-Work, commonly the heritage
of men of genius, as Hamlet, Amiel, etc. I merely say that I have the
same failing and allow you to extract your own inferences. And now
that I have finally settled myself in my easy chair and actually made
up my mind to write, I find that I can not find those endless blanks
you sent me to be guided by in — was it the choice of words? Not one
of all that procession is tangible, I find, after a desperate and riotous
search through the length and breadth of my desk.
So, once more, I am cast adrift in the very uncomfortable position
of being obliged to spill ink when the brain throbs, which should be
the motive power, are running about one-and-a-half volts per day —
and shutting down at night altogether — and it is night now.
I will try to recall some of your questions on those vanished blanks.
"Was I in the Wars?" I believe that was one of them. Well, er — I
216
say, that's rather awkward, but, to come right down to it, I was not,
but if there had been just one more call for troops — you know the rest.
I'm as good a patriot as any. At all events I intend to apply for a pen-
sion, for I caught a bad cold while the war was going on.
And then another question was, "Are you married?" To this soft
impeachment I blushingly plead guilty. Yes, I am married. Would
you behold her? Albrecht Diirer painted her portrait (though it
is no likeness). She was called the Muse of Christendom. In other
words it is only to Femininity residing in the to-me-known portions
of the globe that I am emotionally wedded. I am no Universalist.
Dear me ! I can remember but one other of your queries, "What
prizes have you gained or what have you achieved since leaving col-
lege ?" I believe that was the substance of it. Alas ! my dear Pop,
few indeed they have been, for I started by being handicapped! And
by what do you suppose ? This : I count as one of the greatest of
earthly prizes the privilege of belonging to the — superlative adjective
— class of '97! How then could I surpass myself?
Seriously, though, now that I can't think what else to write about
and yet see that I haven't written enough, seriously, I say that I
haven't yet achieved the first principle of success, namely, the ability
to work. And if success ever should seek me out with such a short-
coming resting upon me, my own surprise would even exceed that
of other people.
As for my work, as I told you, it is to consist in studying and at-
tempting to write the verse drama, in rehabilitating it for the modern
stage. But of that, anon, — you will receive further information con-
cerning it from the critics — they are all of age and speak for them-
selves — and rarely for anyone else.
Really this is the only excuse for a letter I can possibly scare up.
Poor, indeed, but I am positively swamped with work and no energy
for it at that.
In spite of it all, however, I do, and always shall, entertain a most
loyal affection for '97, and also a very profound and sincere and
abiding admiration, Pop, for you, all you stand for, all you are, and all
you have done with such infinite long-suffering patience for THE Class.
Faithfully,
Frederick Ridgely Torrence.
New York City, N. Y., March 7, '01.
JOHN MYERS TOWNLEY.
Dear Old Pop: — Two weeks ago I was home and found your good
letter, enclosing a list of questions, waiting for me— Am I married'
What's my wife's name before marriage? How many children, and
what do we call them?
Well, those are important questions for the fellows that have
jumped over the bachelor traces. They are not bothering me yet.
Say, just save the class a two cent stamp, will you, by taking one of
those blanks and fill out for me— I've lost the one you sent and know
217
you will be endangering your own soul, and recklessly squandering class
funds sending chasers after it, if I don't write you about it. I'm still
John M. Townley, in my right mind, and haven't moved since your
last report.
For past two years I've been on the road for Townley Metal Co.,
■selling tin-plate and sheet iron, eating Missouri corn-bread and learn-
ing a few points on human nature. But to-night I am killing my
last Sunday evening on the road, by writing to you in particular, and
the class in general.
When I get home, last of this week, it will be for good, and a
new man takes my territory after January ist, 1901, while I shall find
a position in the house. I shall be glad of the change and a chance to
stay at home ; yet in spite of the bad hotels in some of these windy
Kansas towns, and the pleasures of catching midnight trains, I can
say, truthfully, that I have enjoyed my work on the road, know-
ing that it has taught me many things about business, and made
me appreciate the value of home and mother. I feel like a boy who
is getting out of school and knows he doesn't have to go back again,
and hence look forward to this last Christmas of the nineteenth
century with much pleasure. Of the work that is before me, I have
all to learn. I may be getting out of the frying pan into the fire.
This last week the class resolutions, in regard to the death of
John Collette reached me, and I sent copies to Mrs. Collette and
John's sister, Mrs. Clawson at Oakland, Cal., and to John's father
in New York State. Perhaps, as I am about the only fellow who saw
anything of John after his marriage, I should tell you something
about his death. On February 22d, 1899, he married Miss Mary
Parker, of Georgetown, Colo. I expected to go out to be best man,
:as his first intention was to be married in June, but rheumatism
troubled him in the mountains (he had been in Denver all winter),
and the doctors told him to go to California, so the wedding was
set for February, and at that time I was unable to go. In the fall
■of '99 he went to Iowa to work on the Northwestern R.R., and it was
there I went to spend one Sunday with him and his wife, who was a
charming little woman.
John worked hard all winter, in bad weather and good, from early
morning until late, and the hard winter was too much for him. In
the spring he took a severe cold, which grew worse instead of better,
and in March I was very much surprised to hear that he had grown
so weak he must stop work and go at once to California in hopes of
recovering his health. But it was too late — quick consumption had
set in, and while we were having our triennial reunion, John was on
his death bed, although he did not know it then. His wife writes me
that he lived with Princeton and '97 in mind all the time and seemed
worried that some one might die even during commencement week
and cast a shadow over the reunion.
Though Mrs. Collette knew John could not live more than a month
.at most, she kept the deep sorrow to herself until after we had all
218
left Princeton. The papers and letters received during that time gave
him much pleasure, and up to the last he was wonderfully cheerful
and sent messages of friendship to the fellows, and love for Princeton
and all '97. He was buried at Oakland, Cal. There were no '97
men near to attend the funeral, and word reached me too late to send
flowers for the class.
Except for my trip back to Princeton, last June, and a week after-
ward at Lake Keuka, N. Y., in company with John Hall and Ear!
Cox, I have spent all my time at Kansas City, or in that section oi
the Missouri Valley which lies north of the Kaw, going at times
even as far north as the home of one W. J. Bryan.
There is a red and black bug, out in these western states, that the
common herd call "Pop Bugs" — I can't give you the Greek, nor can
I say whether they belong to the "thesens" or "thosens" species, but
last summer there were thousands of them — seemed to make railroad
depots their chief loafing place, often being so numerous they covered
the sides of the stations and the platform, where they liked to sun
themselves, and one could not walk without crushing some at almost
every step. Now, it's queer what these bugs have to do with politics,
or politics with these bugs, but this is gospel truth — when I was in
Nebraska just the week before election, there were thousands of these
bugs everywhere, but this week, I find them nearly all dead or else
in hiding. They are scarcer than grillrooms in Kansas.
It is only here and there one sees a solitary Pop bug, looking
ashamed, cold and lonesome, and ready to run under some pro-
tecting window frame or between the cracks in the board walk
at first notice of approaching danger. And you who are interested
in politics, mark ye this : Jackson County, Missouri, on Nov. 6th last,
went Republican for the first time in 22 years.
Yours for the good of '97,
Jake Townley.
White Cloud, Kan., Dec. 16, '00.
WILLIAM BOOTH TRAINER.
My Dear Classmates: — Since the most eventful occasion in June,
'97, my business career has been varied between the cotton business
and the steel industry. In the summer of '98 the Patterson Mills Com-
pany, at Chester, Pa., failed, consequently I made a dash into the
outer world, and chose Pittsburgh as my victim from which to obtain
the much sought for "lucre."
Since January, '99, I have been doing various "stunts" around the
Homestead Steel Works, which, as most of you know, are the largest
part of the Carnegie Steel Co. As to my individual progress in this
line I can safely say that I have gotten beyond the point expressed by
Andrew Carnegie in the following story :
"On one of the venerable gentleman's trips across the water, some
inquisitive person inquired of Mr. Carnegie if he had any choice
when he died — Heaven or Trenton? He was rather diffident in his
219
answer, but finally answered the question by saying that the only
trouble about going to Heaven was that he would have to start all
over again." It seems to be the thing to do in one of these letters
to either admit or deny being engaged or married. My answer to
this is "not guilty" of either offence. In this busy community a fellow^
does not find the opportunity to write to even a few of the fellows in
the class, but nevertheless I hope that when any of you are in Pitts-
burgh, you will feel at liberty to come out to the works, which I know
will be a pleasure, and it will be a privilege to me to point out a few
interesting things in the largest plant of the $800,000,000 steel com-
bine. With the assistance of Bill Church and a few others we can
make it interesting for almost any one. Do not forget we have an
extra key out all the time for any arrivals that may happen in.
As ever,
Bill Trainer.
MuNHALLj Pa., March 3, '01.
ERNEST ELY TURNEY.
Turney left college handicapped by serious ill-health. After various
occupations, selected with a view to obtaining the benefits of out-door
life, he has finally come into the employ of the Postal Department,
and is honorably discharging the duties of a mail carrier in Toledo,
Ohio, with fair prospects of finally regaining his health.
ALBERT CLINTON TYLER.
Dear Secretary: — You have aroused me finally, and I rather feel
sorry for the members of '97 who responded promptly to your call
for a letter, for they have not been favored like the rest of us delin-
quents with so many pointed personal appeals to do our duty ar
break records. But you were so infernally complimentary the last
few times, that I felt a good deal like saying that old P. O. P. J. H. K.
can G. T. H. Of course you don't know what that means, so I'll
explain. An English colonel found a nice big empty house, and at
once established himself therein. When the news of his comfortable
quarters reached Bloemfontein he received a telegram, which read,
"G. T. M. wants house." He didn't know what G. T. M. meant, but
finally found it meant "General Traffic Manager." He said he'd fix
'em, and wired back, "G. T. M. can G. T. H." In a short time he was
summoned to attend a court of inquiry. On appearing, he was asked
what he meant by sending such an insulting message to his superior
officer. "Insulting !" said he ; "nothing of the kind." "But what did
3'ou m^ean by telling me I could 'G. T. H ?' " "It was simply an abbrevi-
ation," explained the colonel. "G. T. M. (General Traffic Manager)
can G. T. H. (get the house) !" Well, you can G. T. L. anyway,
Popsy, old boy, and explain it for yourself. But on to the fore !
On to tell the sad story of a sad career since our G. et G. class left
Old Nassau.
I had signed a contract to coach Amherst, and did it, even if I
220
felt like telling the whole caboodle of them to G. T. H. more than
once. They were a pack of little boys, with not near the amount of
spirit for their college that most prep, schools have for their school,
and with a minimum amount of nerve and maximum amount of "head" ;
and the unavoidable result resulted. After that I went to Columbia
and took a course in the Department of Architecture, beginning all
over again, as a blankety-blank freshman, and had about decided to
coach every fall and study Architecture every winter until I was able
to become a full-fledged architect. But— that everlasting "but"—
Harry Fine wrote me I was wanted at Lawrenceville, and I went,
and here I've been ever since, teaching and coaching— math., drawing,
football, and pole-vaulting, etc., etc. I rather like to teach, and am
probably weaned away from the pursuit of building houses, for an
indefinite period, and shall probably hold my nose to the grindstone of
monotonous instructing along with some of the other warts in our
class — one of whom is near me here — one Stahl, — better known as
"Spot." He is a winner here, a triple-decked, corrugated-bellied old
sport. Even the boys understand his position and consult him in
reference to placing of bets on the football games, and, on the side,
to make bets among themselves on the probable color of his waist-
coat that day. He floats away from this quiet village with astonish-
ing regularity, and is absent for periods of time that seem impossible
for one who expects to do any work at all. We are not sure yet, but
vv'e all imagine he haunts a certain town in Pennsylvania — not Scran-
ton — but not so very far from it.
Now, Pop, I know you said you'd cut out anything that didn't suit,
but if you cut out one word of what I say about you, I'll have your
head! Fellows, Pop is in love! And won't acknowledge it to any
one. You all know his cunning ways of deception; well, he's kept
them up most incessantly, and is the biggest old humbug in many
worlds. I tried to draw him out once but only got one good "rise"
out of him. Another time I wanted to take a snapshot of him, and you
should have seen him object! Percy Colwell was there at the time,
and although we both did all we could physically, morally and argu-
mentatively, he would just lie on his divan and kick his heels in the
air, and heave pillows at us. It was a shame to see one of his
"embonpoint" make such a fuss about a picture, but he always was
fussy. Why, in class he carries on dreadfully, and as a punishment
makes the poor boys attend special recitations. One day when the
old cracked bell rang at an unusual hour, some one asked a boy what
it was. He said he didn't know, "unless it zvas Mr. Kcener's Penal."
That shows how he abuses the young minds intrusted to his care.
But it hurt Pop like the deuce when he was assigned a class in pen-
manship. He, the umpty-ump fellow of Ex yz of Princeton Uni-
versity, etc., to teach writing! But he got over that, and is now as
serene as he can be.
But I must go and give some special examinations myself, and
will say bye thee bye. It is my sincere wish that any fellows of '97
visiting Princeton would take time to run over in the trolley and see
me. I could manage meals and bed for a few days quite easily, and,
fellows, come over and see Pop. With best wishes for the success
of every mother's son of ye.
Paternally yours,
Albert C. Tyler.
Lawrenceville, N. J., May 2, '01.
FRANKLIN UPSHUR.
Dear Pop: — Your letter under date of the seventeenth instant, with
the enclosures of "Sample Letters," etc., was received to-day, and my
happiness is not even measured by the characteristic promptness witn
which I hereby hasten to reply.
My existence since leaving the shadow of Old North has been a
very simple one. I spent two years trying to absorb into my cranium
as much law as the University of Maryland usually endeavors to im-
part in three — former disciples of "Woodrow" usually have no diffi-
culty in doing that. Having become a member of the bar in June,
1899, I entered upon the duties (I have three years yet to serve) of
Assistant State's Attorney for Baltimore City, the following January,
after receiving the appointment subsequently to the fall elections,
when a fortunate (for me) change of State and City administration
took place — and that's the only part I've taken in politics, if you will
ask impudent questions. The force of the office comprises the "Chief,"'
one "Deputy," — Edgar Allan (Peter) Poe, '91, being the same — and
three "Assistants," of whom I am one. I use much good paper in draw-
ing indictments, and much of the court's "valuable time" in trying
multitudinous petty cases.
My summers have been spent for a number of years at Ocean City,.
Maryland, a quiet little place and Maryland's only seaside resort.
I keep a catboat down there, and spend the time quietly sailing and.
swimming and shooting (mostly in the intransitive). In the autumn of
ninety-nine I spent a delightful month at Paul Smith's, in the Adi-
rondacks, from there making a short excursion to Montreal and
Quebec. On the golf links of Paul Smith's one afternoon, Princeton
was the magic word that brought about a very delightful acquaintance
— without other introduction — with a gentleman who, when I men-
tioned the numerals of the Great and Glorious, gave another han
shake, with the remark: "thirty years after." Pie was a member of
'sixty-seven.
I took great interest in witnessing Net Poe's maiden effort in court
a few days ago. He defended a boy charged with the larceny of two
pigeons. You remember that "'Blige Ye Lady" voice of his. Well.
when he was cross-examining the prosecuting witness, if you had been
a long distance off, so as not to understand the words, you would
have thought he was "doing business at the old stand" at "Quarter,"
giving signals. Notwithstanding that the State traced feathers from
the pigeon coop to the traverser's home, where in the cellar the
222
pigeons were actually found, still, after having placed his client's
pretty sister on the stand. Net inveigled the jury into believing that
the traverser was as innocent as the '97 class boy. His fee should
have been handsome, so make him treat on it when you see him again.
Here's to the Quinquennial ; may it not fall short of the glory of the
Triennial.
Franklin Upshur.
Baltimore, Md., April 12, '01.
P. S. — Reverting for a moment to "any information about other
members of the class," I want to add that I hear you have developed
a marked faculty for epistolary and other correspondence. I under-
stand further that some members of the class have been "shame-
fully" delinquent in responding to your "urgent appeals" for letters,
necessitating the sending of "requests," numbering in some cases as
high as ten, supplemented later with daily postal cards, with "scare"
headlines, constituting a sort of "yellow journal" — though one fellow
told me he felt much hurt that you skipped the "4th," "6th," "8th"
and "gth" "requests," so you must be careful about that. Pop, not to
hurt their sensitive ( ?) feelings. But I want to add my protest right
here against such "disgraceful indifference," and to assure you of
my heartfelt sympathy for, and admiration of, our Patient, Persever-
ing, Persistent Pop.
Yours again, as never before,
F. U.
HARRY VAN CLEAR
My Dear Keener: Since you insist on hearing from every member
of the class, I will try to send my humble contribution. One year at
leisure; one year at the Ocean Grove High School, as instructor of
Greek and Mathematics; one summer at Long Branch, tutoring; from
September, '99, until March 1900, at the Peekskill Military Academy
as instructor in mathematics; from March until June recuperating
from a severe nervous attack ; since June with the C. R. R. of N. J. —
that is all.
I might add that I was married on January 20, 1901, to Miss Ina
C. Ray, at Long Branch, N. J.
Pardon my delay. I didn't intend to write at all, for I haven't any-
thing to write about.
Sincerely yours,
Harry Van Cleaf.
Long Branch, N. J., Feb. 23, '01.
JOHN STOUT VAN NEST.
My Dear Pop: — Having received numerous caustic and finally al-
most insulting communications from you, both in print and writing,
I am of the opinion that the only way to keep you quiet is to write
a letter, so this is it.
223
Unlike most of the class, I did not have the prospect of leaving
Princeton before me when we graduated, for I had decided to return
for another year, and give the time to the study of chemistry. This
I did; and the graduate study, plus a thesis written later, gave me the
degree of M. S. in June, igoo.
But in the meantime I was a rolling stone, which gathered
neither moss, nor anything else. In the fall following my final
leaving of Princeton (that of 1898), I took a position with the Inter-
national Correspondence Schools of Scranton, Pa. This corporation
claims the ability to teach a man almost any branch of scientific
learning, wholly through the medium of the mails, aiming to help most
the practical mechanic who wishes to learn the theory of his work;
and, depending on the individual and the amount of study he will
give to it, it is quite successful. My role in the play was to per-
suade the mechanic he was in sore need of such instruction, and,
incidentally, sell him a scholarship. Well, I found it easy enough to
convince him that he ought to know more — that cost him no money —
but when it came to relieving him of his cash, he would lie down and
want time called. I kept that up for a little less than five months,
and, becoming more and more convinced that I was not cut out for
the book-agent business, I gracefully retired from the scene of action.
I may add that during this time the field of my work was Johns-
town, Pa., notable in my mind for two things; the first being the
flood, and the second being the ardent wish that if ever I have to go
there again it may be on a train which does not stop. For those who
know the town, I have said enough; for those who do not, the less
said the better.
From the latter part of March, 1899, until November of the same
year, I tried my hand at loafing; and I flatter myself I did it fairly
well. However, I would not recommend it as a life occupation, for
times dies harder than the proverbial feline. The little exertion I
did make during these last mentioned eight months of my career,
was in trying to find work, with no success.
At last I returned to Princeton for the purpose of seeing if things
were done in the same way as "in the old days when I was in college,"
and actually stumbled (it is the only word to apply) upon a chance
to act as assistant in chemistry and mineralogy in the School of
Science. I entered upon my new duties on the first of December,
1899; and here I am still. No man, who has not been tossed around
as I was for the greater part of a year and a half, can appreciate the
joy and peace I experienced at finding work in Princeton. It was
like coming back to college again and beginning everything anew.
On the 20th of last June I was married, and as all stories close with
that event, I guess I will cut off this line of wind. Believe me,
Very sincerely yours,
John S. Van Nest.
Princeton, N. J., March 8, '01.
224
BENJAMIN FOLSOM VORHIS.
Shaw is the only person who has given any information about
Vorhis, whom he met at a football game last fall. The meeting was
too brief to disclose any details of his career. He seems to have dis-
appeared and covered his trail as effectively as three or four others.
Any information will be welcomed.
JESSE CONKLING WALDO.
Dear Classmates : — I suppose that our esteemed secretary has given
few of you as many opportunities to enroll your names upon the
Roll of Fame, as he has been pleased to grant me. All arguments
as to the fact of the evident lack of interesting details in my career
have proven unavailing.
I supposed that I was pretty well acquainted with "Pop" Keener,
having boarded in the same club for a year, and having often "polled"
out lessons with him, but his well-developed pertinacity of purpose
has indeed been a surprise to me.
It is to be hoped that this arduous labor, in behalf of the class,
has not turned the hair gray upon the top of his head.
After leaving the classic groves of Princeton in '94, I matriculated
in the medical department of Syracuse University; from which in-
stitution I was graduated in June, '97, a few days before you were
taking your degrees. Thus I was, as I believe, the first of our class
to enter the profession instituted and ennobled by Hippocrates.
Since that time my energies have been directed to this calling, the
details of which, though always engrossing to the participant, would
present little of general interest.
No doubt you are all planning to attend the Pan-American Expo-
sition, at Buffalo, this summer. I hope it may be my privilege to meet
some of you there and to renew our acquaintance.
Jesse C. Waldo.
HuLBURTONj N. Y., May 14, '01.
ARCHIBALD HAY WALLACE.
Dear Keener: — Your oft-repeated and strenuous appeals for my
autobiography from the time of leaving college to date, have at
last borne fruit, and may the result be upon your own head. Un-
forunately there is little to tell and less skill for the telling, but —
here goes.
As you know, I left Princeton with regret, at the end of our fresh-
man year, and, the following October, wended my way to the village
where the Schuylkill and Delaware meet, to enroll as a student in
veterinary medicine, at U. of P. Three years soon pass, and in due
time my diploma was granted in June, '97, conferring the right to
minister to the ills of all the animal kingdom save man. The period
which followed probably needs no description to any physician, or
veterinarian, who has endeavored to found a country practice. The
animals of that part of New Jersey in which I was located seemed
225
distressingly healthy, and the owners of those who were not, usually
developed an alarming case of financial disability as soon as my
services were no longer required. Suffice it to say that I determined
to seek another field of activity, and in the spring of '99, entered the
service of the Department of Agriculture, as an assistant inspector
of the Bureau of Animal Industry. My first assignment was to East
St. Louis, where I remained until last June, being then transferred to
New York. This brings my record to date.
As concerns matrimony — no partner for my joys and sorrows has
yet appeared. There has been nothing published to the authorship
of which I could lay claim, and my part in politics has been confined
to that of every voter, with Republican tendencies, and a high regard
for sound money, who exercised his right of suffrage. I was sorry
to miss the reunion last June, but my doing so was unavoidable, and
I can only hope that the fates will be kinder in 1902. With best wishes
for the success of the Record, I am, as ever.
Sincerely yours,
A. H. Wallace.
New York City, N. Y., March 7, '01.
JOHN TALBOT WARD.
Dear Pop: — I have no excuse for not answering before, except the
invalid one of "too busy." I hope this information blank will come
in time.
As you see, I am still close to the shadows of the old place, and
get a chance to look at it about once a month. Once in a while I pass
through Lawrenceville, the place where you shine, but I never yet
have had a glimpse of j'ou.
As to what I have been doing — there is little to say. I entered the
Seminary, in New York, immediately after I graduated — entered in
September — and there I stuck for three winters. One summer I spent
in Trenton, the other in Colorado, on a vacation. I was in the employ
of this mission all during my Seminary course. That took me out of
the city from Friday afternoon until Monday morning. I had charge
of a church and several mission stations — sort of a circuit-rider ar-
rangement. My field of operation was Hunterdon County, with Flem-
ington as the center. There's little of interest to anybody else in this
work, though I find it very absorbing myself.
Shortly after I graduated from the Seminary last June, I was
ordered by the Bishop of Central Pennsylvania, to South Bethlehem,
and came directly here to resume my work. In a general way I am
looking after the whole field touched by this Mission. My "travels""
take me to a list of places like this : Flemington, Clinton, High
Bridge, Pittstown, Frenchtown — all in Hunterdon County; Rocky Hill,
Sand Hills, Deans, Monmouth Junction, Glenmore and Mercerville,
in Mercer County. Then toward the shore : Sea Grit, Manasquan,
Point Pleasant, Mattawan, Sewaren, Carteret and Railway — a long,
uninteresting list of names. But you see I have an eye on a great deal
226
of New Jersey. We have a house in Trenton, and live comfortably
enough. There are six men here besides myself, so you see we have
a small crowd. If any of the old class wants to stay a while in Trenton,
he can find a welcome over at our house, on Hamilton Avenue.
Every man knows in general what missionary work is; but let no
one think all the mission field is far from home. There is enough
missionary work to be done right here in New Jersey to keep a
number of men busy for a long while. Of course I like my work;
that goes without saying. For that is my business in life. I am very
busy, but that, too, is my business in life. I hope I shall never be
otherwise.
It is not often that I meet one of the class, but once in a while I
do. I am looking forward with much anticipation for the Triennial
Record, to see where all the boys are.
Yours very truly,
Johnny Ward.
Trenton, N. J., Jan. 17, '01.
EDWARD SANFORD WARNER, JR.
My Dear Pop: — No doubt you think I either have no feelings of
loyalty for the class of '97, or have dropped off of this earthly planet
Your eight or ten different appeals, from printed circulars to per-
sonal letters, and best of all your telegram — which I am going to
have framed, to show my appreciation of how faithful and loyal oui
dear old secretary remains to the class which has been scattered for
over four years— all came to hand, but, as I have been laid up nearly
ten months with the tortures and pains of rheumatism, I have not
paid much attention to your requests, or rather, have been putting ofi
from day to day, saying to myself, "will send my letter to 'Pop' to-
morrow." Now I must blush with shame to say that you had to arouse
me from my lethargy by sending a telegram, which I received at home,
at midnight. I sincerely hope there are not many others of our class
who have been so delinquent as myself. For the future I solemnl)
swear that I will promptly answer your requests, for you are worse
than a reporter or a bill-collector in following up the "laggers."
Now as to my class letter. Just pick out the facts I mention in this,
brief note of explanation, or confession— no doubt the latter is more
appropriate at this late hour.
Since leaving college my experiences have not been exciting com-
pared to those of some of our fellow members who were mixed up
in our late war in Cuba and the Philippines; still, to do my duty to
the "great and glorious," I will "step into the breach." On leaving
college I accepted a good position in a railroad office here, but soon
found out that it was too monotonous for my disposition. Then J
got a position with a commercial house, to travel in Texas, Arkansas
and the Territories. In a a short time I discovered there were vastly
more varieties and changes in this life than I ever dreamed of. One
night I would be staying at a first-class hotel, then in a day or two
227
would be way off from civilization, putting up at a "wayside inn"
(either a log hut, or, still better, a hole in the ground called a "dug-
out," where at least one can sleep with a feeling of security from
those gentle breezes called cyclones further north). While my ex-
periences were of the same general character, there was one episode
extraordinary, which will show that although part of Texas is as
well civilized, if not better than some of the older states, there are
sections where the old frontier life has not entirely passed away.
In making an overland trip from Ft. Davis, an old government
fort, now a supply station, to Alpine, another small collection of
"adobe" huts, with two brick buildings — one the bank, the other a
store — located on the same R.R., while another salesman, the driver
and myself were taking a little lunch and giving the team a rest, we
were suddenly surprised to see a bunch of cowboys coming up the
trail just as though the D'l, was after them. Upon reaching us they
stopped to find out who we were, and as luck would have it, one of
them, who seemed to be looking for trouble and could hardly sit on
his horse, on account of the quantity of cheap "spirits fenncnti" he had
taken on board, took a notion that I could dance. Before I could
collect my senses, he had me a-dancing the "Hoochee Coochee" to the
•delightful music of a "44" Colts. The engagement only lasted a couple
of minutes, but every second seemed not only hours, but my last
on earth. To this day I cannot understand how I managed to escape
being hit by that drunken fool. Well, it was some time before my
:nerves thoroughly recovered from that experience.
Last June I had to quit the road on account of contracting rheu-
matism, and have gone into business for myself here at home, where
I am getting along nicely.
Regarding the various questions in your circular — am still living
the life of single blessedness, and have not as yet any desire to mix
up in politics or public life, but am trying to live and let live without
seeking any of those delusive honors.
Wishing you the best of success and good health, I remain ever for
glorious '97, Your old classmate and friend,
Ed. S. Warner, Jr.
St. Louis, Mo., May 12, '01.
GEORGE SHADFORD WATERHOUSE.
Waterhouse says he hopes to be married soon, and he evidently
takes this as a sufficient reason for refraining from epistolary ex-
ertion. We have reliable information that his fiancee is not queen
Liliuokalani. He is in the banking business in Honolulu, where it is
said the natives trust him implicitly. He is expected at the Quin-
quennial with a retinue of dusky Kanakas.
ROBERT WEBER.
Dear Pop: — Your many postals, urgent, sarcastic and bullying, have
been duly received and carefully filed (not thrown) away. I have
228
purposely, but with difficulty, refrained from answering them — for
two reasons. First, to give my wrath at being made the object of
such bitter attacks a chance to become somewhat cooled; and, secondly,
in hope that some fortunate or entertaining adventure might occur
which would relieve the tedium of my very dull and commonplace
narrative.
Now that the eleventh hour has arrived, and no such happy event
has come to my rescue, I can only say that since leaving Princeton
I have been associated with my father in the building and contract-
ing business in this city, at the address where your persistent and
caustic communications found me.
In conclusion, with best wishes for yourself and all aur classmates,
I can positively assure you and them that I am still the same loyal son
of Princeton I always was, and never expect to see the time when I
shall be otherwise. Sincerely yours,
Bob. Weber.
New York City, N. Y., April lo, 'oi.
WALTER MONROE WEISS.
My Dear Classmates: — In response to the repeated urgings of our
long-suffering secretary, I take up my pen to chronicle the few un-
important events that have taken place in my life the past few years,
although I have little or nothing of interest to record.
As many of you know, I was compelled to leave college at the end
of our sophomore year, on account of poor health; nevertheless, I
have always felt as much a part of '97 as if I had worn the cap and
gown and taken my degree with you on Commencement Day. Above
all, the love of Princeton will remain a dominating influence in my
life.
After leaving college I spent a year in loafing about, trying to make
up my mind whether to go into business or grace the law, and, after
due deliberation, decided that the woods were full of 'em. I took a
position with Sterns & Co., Mfgrs. of underwear, at 24 University
Place, beginning at the very bottom of the ladder, and, although
I have neither made a million, nor married one, I have had a fair
measure of success, becoming the firm's representative for both N. Y.
City and Philadelphia. After four years' hard work, I left New York
early last fall to take my first long vacation since my college days,
going into the heart of the Maine woods with an old friend and a
guide to camp. Well, boys, doubtless many of you have camped out
in the Adirondacks and elsewhere, as I have, but for fine shooting,
the real thing in trout fishing, plenty of deer, and magnificent air and
scenery, give me the woods of Maine in the early month of fall. To
such of you, dear classmates, as have become a little battered and worn
by rubbing up against the hard world, and to such of you as want to
get back to your boyhood days, and forget everything, except how to
be happy, I would recommend this life of primitive man. I, for one,
never expect to have a better time, nor a better appetite this side of
229
heaven. Am a member of the Princeton Club of New York, and 'tis
truly, a happy hour when a stray sheep from our fold happens in.
Hoping to see you, one and all, at our next reunion, I am, as ever,
W. Monroe Weiss.
New York City, N. Y., March i, 'oi.
JULIUS PIERSON WHEELER.
Dear Classmates: — Very little to say — "Ergo haec cpistula brevis
erit." You see I have my Latin down pat, yet.
Age, twenty-eight summers ; hair getting a little frayed in front ;
moustache, yes, until a few days ago, a good one — sacrificed it to Zeus,
or some other Greek divinity.
Size and general appearance — about the same as when the "cares of
life o'ertook me," and the cold world began the process of mastica-
tion.
Have writ none, spoke none, acted none, nor made a celebrity of
myself in any line whatsoever.
Work ! All kinds of work in and about a paper mill, from cutter
boy to my present position. Good deal of experience and hard knocks,
with correspondingly inverse homeopathic doses of the "always need-
ful" ; find that I have several wisdom teeth to cut yet.
Have been afiflicted with malaria and mosquitoes. Can knock out
any one in the class telling lies about the latter and the way they have
used me. Lived in them and they in me for the greater part of my
post-graduate career.
Have stuck to baseball, playing with the Montclair A. C. Getting
poorer at the game every year, but am going to keep at it until I get
kicked out as a "has-been."
Have traveled considerably since leaving college, mostly on the
trolley between Montclair and Waverly.
See some of the boys once in a while, all getting married but myself,
and I haven't struck luck yet. Guess that's about all.
God bless you, every one.
Yours for Princeton and the dear old class.
J. Pierson Wheeler.
Montclair, N. J., April 26, '01.
ROBERT CREW WILKINS.
Dear Secretary: — It was my great misfortune to be on the Atlantic
ocean last summer, at the time when our celebrated class held its
triennial reunion. It give me great pleasure, therefore, to meet
again in this way all those jovial spirits of '97 whom time has
scattered over the world. After leaving Princeton, in June of '97, I
went to Europe, remaining three months in Germany. On my return,
following my previous careful training on the Here and There Column
of The Daily Princctonian, I embarked on a career of newspaper work
on The Washington Post. My succeeding summers have all been
spent in Europe, and it has been my good fortune to meet Princeton
230
men in every country visited. Kershow and myself met quite by
accident, in the Hotel Bristol, Berlin, summer before last. We imme-
diately formed a mutual protective society, and spent several vi^eeks
together in a German pension, studying the manners and customs of
the inhabitants. For some unaccountable reason our early training
in the German tongue seemed not to have made a very lasting im-
pression. Kersh knew one word "bier," and I could articulate "noch
eins grosses bier." Between us we could just order enough on which
to live.
Last summer Europe was full of Princeton men. Macy Brooks,
'96, and myself went over on the same boat, and spent most of the
summer together. Fourth of July was the occasion of a large dinner
and dance, given at Leipsic, Germany, by Brainard Warner, Jr., '96,
the American Consul at that place, and I enjoyed the sensation of
dining under the Stars and Stripes in Saxony. Barnum's circus was
there, and, of course, everybody went. The clowns perpetrated the
same old jokes, but beer, and plenty of it, took the place of red
lemonade and peanuts. On my homeward journey a crowd of six
Princeton men met in Munich, Germany, and at the invitation of the
American consul there, a small reunion dinner was held in honor of
the occasion at Tutsing, an attractive little town near Munich. After
a three weeks' sojourn in Paris, I sailed for America on "The Kaiser
Wilhelm der Grosse." After the boat had been out two days. Buck
Thompson appeared, a little worse for wear. A jolly crowd assembled
every night in the smoking-room, singing college songs, Princeton being
represented by Macy Brooks, '96, Buck Thompson and myself, and one
■could almost imagine himself back under the protection of Old North.
I am still engaged in newspaper work, and as manager of The Wash-
ington Weekly Post, am quite qualified to explain, through its Farm
and Home Dept., the best method of making a hen coop or frying a
cake. At present I am treasurer of The Washington Post Co.
Very sincerely,
Robert C. Wilkins.
Washington, D. C, Dec. 18, '01.
EPHRAIM WILLIAMS, JR.
My Dear "Pop": — Your final appeal, and the fact that I am one oi'
the, I must say, in this case, inactive "Fifteen," arouses me to a sense
of duty, and fills me with shame at the existing state of affairs. If
the glory of dear old '97 rests upon us, if we stand in the way of her
reaching the coveted goal of supremacy, in this instance, we are indeed
remiss, if not criminally negligent. I, therefore, make haste to atone
and send my small mite to help place us, if possible, in our usual
position at the head of the line.
After graduation in '97 I returned to my home in Stonington, Con-
necticut, a small country town, pleasantly situated on the border line
of Connecticut and Rhode Island, and just at the end of Long Island
Sound, where I spent a most delightful, quiet summer, boating, driving,
231
and generally enjoying myself, taking a last, final vacation before
beginning the struggle of earning the "Almighty Dollar," and, incident-
ally, a livelihood. In the fall I entered the law office of Dixon &
Sweeney, in the neighboring town of Westerly, and just across the
line, within the borders of Rhode Island, where I began the study of
the law, and served a general clerkship. During my clerkship in the
above-mentioned office, I resided at home, and went by train daily
back and forth between the two towns. Naturally, having been
brought up in Stonington, and now being there permanently, I took
a keen interest in the afifairs of the town, and in the fall of '98, being
nominated by the Democratic party, of that town, for Representative
to the State Legislature, I began a somewhat active political cam-
paign. The election resulted in a Republican victory, and my political
aspirations were nipped in the bud. However, in the spring of '99,
I presume out of commiseration, the Borough of Stonington, which
has a Democratic majority, although the town is Republican, nomi-
nated me for Mayor, but for personal reasons I declined to accept the
nomination, and now devoted my time to a final preparation for the
Bar examinations of Rhode Island. In August, '99, I took the exam-
ination for the Rhode Island Bar, and, passing the same, after a
pleasant vacation spent partly in a cruise through Vineyard Sound
and down to Nantucket, I v.'as admitted to practice in that State. I
therefore, continued on in the same office, with but little difference,
except the change from clerk to attorney, until December, 1900, when
two of my cousins in New York City, having formed the firm of
Dixon & Holmes, for the practice of law, in said city, I left the office
in Westerly, Rhode Island, and came to New York, where I am now
residing, and connected with the above-named firm of Dixon ^
Holmes. For various reasons the change is a most agreeable one,
and especially so, as now I am in much closer connection with the
dear old college — I beg your pardon — I mean, university, and it is
not now such an unusual event to occasionally meet a classmate. In
New England the Princeton Alumni are, naturally, not very numerous,
although I hope, and from a letter received announcing a Princeton
dinner to be given in Boston, May 29th, 1901, by the Princeton
Alumni living in New England, am led to believe, strong and active.
At all events, there is one thing I am sure of, that there is one small
spot, in southeastern Connecticut and western Rhode Island that has
heard a thing or two of a certain well-beloved town in Jersey, and,
furthermore, I sincerely believe has not yet heard the whole story .
This very personal account — but as it was to be about myself, I failed
to see how I could eliminate that element — with much regret for my
long delay, and sincere greetings to the "great and glorious," our
well-beloved '97, I now send in answer to her call to duty.
Thanking you for your several gentle reminders, with best wishes
and kindest regards. Very sincerely yours.
New York City, N. Y., May 6, '01. Ephraim Williams, Jr.
232
JOHN ADAMS WILLIAMS.
Felloxv Classmates:— \]^ox\ my graduation from Princeton, in June,
1897, I at once began to consider for what calling of life I was best
fitted. For better or for worse, I chose the law, and in the following
autumn entered upon that study at the New York Law School. There
I found various of my classmates, who had made a like choice, and in
emulous rivalry, each striving to outstrip his companions, we spent
two earnest years, being graduated in June, 1899, and a few weeks
later being admitted to the Bar of this State. We have since zealously
pursued our profession, and in all the select and numerous body of
men engaged in the furtherance of justice in the metropolis, you will
find none more active and more aspiring than the little group which
represents you among them.
My own career hitherto must depend for its merits rather upon its
negative excellencies, but for such do I claim a certain credit. In a
city where annually the majority votes wrong, I have ever been of
the minority; in a profession which each year is subtracted from, that
the quota in our jails and penitentiaries may be added to, no step,
has yet been taken for my apprehension ; in a class where but few
are still unmarried, my virgin heart, all untouched, pines on in single
blessedness. The factitious heights of fame, it is true, are not yet
mine, but I cannot consider myself obscure when I recall how widely
known is my name and address among committees to build gymnasiums
and other committees having similar aims and requests.
Having but rare opportunities to address an audience like this, I
desire upon this occasion to make a few propositions, for which I
would ask my classmates' thoughtful consideration. And of the first —
of hazing at Princeton — I confess I dislike to speak, so inadequate, so
puerile in their incompleteness, must our forms seem to graduates
of other institutions where the practice flourishes. I would direct
your attention to West Point, whose finished system I respectfully
urge be adopted at our Alma Mater. Indeed, I fancy a West Point
man would have but a scornful contempt for us and our pitiable de-
ficiencies, and when we compare our relative modes — if comparable
they be — the thoroughness, the refinement, the justification, and es-
pecially the ultimate penalty, upon which their system is based and
which is its chief adornment can have no other effect than to make
a Princeton man hang his head in shame. Surely with the influence
which we could exert at the national capital, we could readily have
assigned to duty at Princeton (as tactical instructor, if you will) some
young officer of the most approved ability in those things for which
we should desire him, and, remembering the natural aptitude of our
sophomores, I shall not attempt to dissemble my confidence that in
a very short time, under such guidance, we should have a code of hazing
which, on its merit, we should not need to hesitate to compare to that
of West Point itself. Could we and our successors but have had the
benefit of such a method, that, polished by such a training, we might
have become considerate and instinctive gentlemen, constant com-
^3i
panionship with whom would be — in an old writer's description of the
braying of asses — "a world of joy without end."
With an equal heartiness do I make another suggestion, for I do
not conceive that this is too early a date for us to begin planning
for our decennial gift to the university; and having in mind the worthy
memorial which a preceding class has lately decided upon, I hasten
to propose that ours be of a similar nature, any objection that may be
made against our following another's lead being overthrown by the
intrinsic worth of the plan itself. An earlier class than our own,
my classmates doubtless knows, intends to build for Princeton a golf
club house, expending the large sum of money they have collected, so
that the rather inadequate facilities now obtaining at Princeton, for
golf, may be replaced by the most admirable accommodations.
Some time since in answer to Mr. Keener's call for suggestions for
buildings. Such choices are fit enough in their way — nor do I view
with entire disfavor the plan we have so often discussed — that of
building a dormitory as our gift. We must not forget, however, the
favor with v/hich all Princeton men now look upon both marbles and
tops, the mere mention of which species of athletics will bring to
mind the utter absence at Princeton of a place for their proper exer-
cise, and now that one may play golf amid the most satisfactory con-
ditions, could our class not construct grounds, admirably arranged in
the most modern style, with the most modern devices and comforts,
where we at our reunions, and where other Princeton men at other
times could spin our little tops and shoot our little marbles, amid
surroundings unsurpassed elsewhere in the nation? Almost every other
need of our Alma Mater has long since been supplied; in this chance
to obviate her most marked remaining defect, a singular opportunity
is afforded us.
It is very probable that we could in a spirit of amity arrange a league
with our sister-class, whereby we might grant to its members special
privileges at our grounds, receiving in turn concessions from them.
Our interest and proficiency in our respective sports would thus be
increased; new and pleasant ties and associations would ensue; by
the peculiar acceptability of our respective gifts — some classes wonder-
ing at us, some envying us, all admiring us — Old Nassau would con-
stantly win new fame and honor.
Some time since in answer to Mr. Keener's call for suggestions for
features for this Triennial Record, I made a response and asked to
be allowed to contribute biographical sketches of our President and
Secretary respectively. (My presumption, I trust, will be forgiven,
because of my desire to serve my class). For my proposition I received
kindly thanks, accompanied by Mr. Keener's arbitrary veto ; Mr.
Garrett affirmatively concurring. I, therefore, feel that in this indi-
vidual letter I am not at liberty to give any testimony of my admira-
tion and respect for either of these gentlemen, but in closing, I do
wish to give a few words of praise to the competent members of lan
important committee.
234
In our preparations for our Triennial, it was fortunately remem-
bered that it would take place during a heated season of the year, to
guard against the discomforts of which a committee on refreshments
was appointed. The committeemen were chosen with a wise selec-
tion, and I can give no higher tribute to their efforts than to recall
the fact that so alluring was their hospitality that many who came to
pass an hour under our tent stayed the day, "Day boarders," as the
pleasant expressive phrase ran. None will more emphatically assert
than myself that the success of our reunion was due to the labors of
one man, but we must remember that with this phase of our celebration
— than which none was happier in its results — Mr. Keener consist-
ently declined to have any connection.
I hope, therefore, at our next reunion this committee will again be
placed in charge of its own department. Its members have shown
their merit, and a grateful class will welcome their reappointment.
For if, in 1902, Mr. Keener, in whatsoever misguided motive — Mr.
Garrett affirmatively concurring — should decide to take personal charge
of the same, sadly reminiscent, would we have to say, as Carlyle
said of the dying Robespierre, "God help him — and us."
Your classmate,
John A. Williams.
New York City, N. Y., Jan. 25, '01.
PERCY HERBERT WILLIAMS.
Dear Pop: — Please understand, at the beginning, that your scur-
rilous and insulting postal cards have not forced me to write, al-
though some of my immediate family, judging from their general
tone of profanity, thought I must have at least robbed the '97 class
treasury, to deserve such abuse. I'm surprised at your profane lan-
guage ! You know, as well as I, Pop, that there's no use tryincx to make
an interesting story out of four years of medical school work. Why,
there's more excitement in driving a scavenger's cart — and it's a good
deal cleaner, too ! However, in as few words as possible, I'll just
tell what has happened to me since I gained my diploma milla cum
lande, at Princeton, four years ago.
My first summer was without any incident worthy of mention. T^e
only thing which still lingers in my memory is how Father Spencer
visited me, and in two days became King of the Fussers by divine
right. When he left, all the girls lost interest in life, and some even
attempted suicide. A man with Spencer's talents ought to be careful
to do as little damage as possible.
In the fall of '97 I started in at the College of Physicians and Sur-
geons. Any one who knows any thing about the first year at medical
school realizes what that means; at first you worry because you fear
you've "missed your calling" ; later you wish you were sure, so as to
have an excuse to quit before "disgracing your family." It's a lovely
game. It passed, in time, and the next summer I spent trying to re-
member what I had learned the winter before. My second winter was
23s
like the first, but now I had lost all spirit and didn't care whether
school kept or not. The summer of '99 I went abroad with the fixed
purpose of becoming engaged — I accomplished my purpose, and things
began to look up a little.
During the following winter, I worked like a vulgar, common
garden ant, and finished the year knowing only a little less than when
I began, but by this time I realized that "All men are fools." Misery
loves company, and I was more content.
Last summer I spent substituting at the Presbyterian and St. Luke's
Hospitals, in New York, and took only a few weeks' vacation, but
enough to start in fresh in the fall.
All this winter Runt Haussling and I have been alternating between
hope and fear, for with spring came hospital exams. You see now
why we haven't written to you before; when in the hopeful state we
worked too hard to write, and hadn't an hour to spare ; when dull
fear seized our souls, we hadn't the nerve to darken the fair pages of
the '97 triennial with our dark forebodings.
Well, last Friday and Saturday I took my exams, for Bellevue, and
landed right side up with both feet. Now I feel more like I did when
I graduated. Yesterday, thanks to Runt Haussling, Rubber Shearer,
Tommy Thompson, and a few more Princeton heelers, I was elected
president of the graduating class of P. & S. The class president up
here is more or less of a joke, anyway.
And now I get my M. D. in June, and start all over again at the
bottom of another ladder. It's slow work. School, college, profes-
sional school, hospital training, seems like a long list for preparation
for life, but it has all passed quickly so far, and I've had more or less
fun out of it, too. There's a great sameness to it all, as we look back.
First, when we start at prep, school it's all strange and new, and we
are "kinder thankful and willin' to please," like the old maid; soon
we are in the fourth form, and own the school. Freshman year, we
knuckle down again, and feel very diminutive as we take off our hats
to the "sophs," and wonder how our more favored classmates dare
to call seniors by their first names ; then we, too, are seniors, and "do
as we d please," as all good seniors should. But even this doesn't
last, and we start all over again and work up again until the last year
at professional school, when we feel pretty fair, but not nearly so
cocky as before, for we know now what it all means.
Next year I start in again as junior in the largest hospital in the
city, to work my way up to house surgeon, and then begin all over
again in the cold world, as a struggling little M. D. So it has gone,
up and down, each time a little higher, only to begin again at the
bottom of the next ladder.
Now, Pop, you see how dry all this sounds, and understand why
I hesitated to inflict a letter upon you; but you would have one or
have me excommunicated forever from the "great and glorious." What
I have written, I have written. It's your own fault. Pop.
By the bye, it may interest you to know that I will be married be-
236
fore next Commencement, and if the class will promise to be good,
I'll come down and let them pat me on the back.
Yours, as ever, for '97,
Percy H. Williams. =
New York City, N. Y., April 12, '01.
WILBURT CHARLES WILLIAMS.
My Dear Pop: — The enclosed card and envelope which I received
this A.M. will, in a way, explain the reason for my not having ac-
knowledged your many, "judging from the number on the last," noti-
fications.
It seems that there are other W. C. W.'s in the city who, no doubt,
have been in the habit of obtaining mail belonging to me, which has
not been returned to the postal authorities for distribution to correct
address. Now that one has fallen to my lot, and I herein enclose my
home and business address, no doubt you will feel relieved somewhat,
as in the future I shall try not to delay in acknowledging communi-
cations from old '97.
Of myself, I have nothing much to say, excepting that I am in
reality the same old Max, who used to trot around while in P ,
with the exception that I am getting older. It has been my misfortune
to meet but very few of the old '97 crowd, their number being limited
from this section, but if things come my way and nothing turns up to
prevent it, I shall be on the old battle-ground this coming summer, to
see our boys pull another championship from Yale.
Yours sincerely,
W. C. WiLLLAMS.
ScRANTON, Pa., April 10, '01.
ALEXANDER McDOWELL WILSON.
Friends of '97: — Mine are the "short and simple annals of the poor."
Graduation found me with an A. B. as my only asset, and as many
another has done, I turned to teaching as the easiest solution of my;
difficulties. Two years in New England Prep. School were enough
to demonst'-ate that I was on the wrong tack, so I sought and found
a position on the engineer corps of America's greatest railway. Aftpr
a few months I was made an assistant supervisor of track, which re-
sounding title I have carried on three different divisions, assisting
practical, hard-headed old chaps who have risen from the humble
position of section foremen. It's the strenuous life on tenuous pay,
but it's worth while. With a lusty good will I could join you in sing-
ing once again the Levee Song.
The inquisitorial sheet I send in shows an aching vacuity where
should be "honors," "wives," "children," and other interesting things —
these I have neither achieved, though I have labored diligently, nor
liave they been thrust upon me; but "time" has not yet been called.
Heartily yours,
A. M. Wilson.
Batavia, N. Y., Jan. 21, '01.
237
JOHN FLEMING WILSON.
My Dear Pop: — Your blasphemous postal cards have roused such
a storm of protest from my sisters that I find myself compelled to sit
down and fulfil my duties as a '97 man. My communication may not
be so vocabularic as yours, but it is written in as hearty a spirit.
It is a little strenuous to come up to the mark set in your examples.
Perhaps this will be excused when you understand that mine are the
simple annals of the poor.
I am now in the possession of my degree, gained by a year extraor-
dinary at Princeton — 1899- 1900. My life, previous to that, and sub-
sequent to my enforced departure in '97, was one of magnificent mo-
notony. I worked for my living here in the West, and I judge the
process is the same everywhere. I spare you the details. In Princeton
I renewed my acquaintance with several subjects of the curriculum,
displayed a most exemplary devotion to my religious duties as set
forth in chapel «' mornings, made my final salaam and withdrew my
insignificant countenance to these parts.
I am now teaching Latin to the beginners in Portland Academy,
and striving to forget the habits of study formed in Alma Mater. I
regret to say that, in spite of the recognized brilliancy of Nassau's
representatives, very few of our Western boys consider it as a possible
place to go. A good many things go to make this the case, but, as
Prexie elegantly put it, I am not yet free from the effects of having
been under discipline, and, of course, any suggestions I might make
would be Tommy.
I never see any of the old class, though I hear of some wandering
around. I am of the opinion that Collette and Duncan Moore are the
only newcomers, but there may be others. I wish any who may hit
the Oregon trail would call on 405 Clay Street, and receive the wel-
come awaiting them. Not many of you fellows know how we people
can enjoy a friend, and I hope some will try us.
In spite of momentary ambitions I have done nothing in war,
politics or journalism. Sounds tame, doesn't it? The class average is
high, and some must be in the audience. To tell the truth I feel pretty
much identified with those who succeed, and it's all in the family, you
know.
So here's to you. Pop, with a good will and a blessing on your
blasphemous but revered head. Here's looking at '07 over a mighty
sweet cup of memory.
Ever yours affectionately,
John Fleming Wilson.
Portland, Ore., April 24, '01.
WALTER WINFIELD WILSON.
My Dear "Pop": — Immediately after leaving college I chose as my
life work that of a lumberman, but after one year I concluded that I
did not want to be the lumberman, so I began the study of law at
"Dear old Penn." (?). I expect to graduate this spring, as modestly
238
cesJfuf''''' ^^'^' '^^''^ ^ '^^" ^^ ^"'""'^ ^' Pittsburgh, Pa., if sue-
With best wishes to all.
Very sincerely,
T, W. W. Wilson
Philadelphia, Pa., Jan. 27, '01. vvilson.
JAMES LISTER WOLCOTT.
Wolcott is a member of the firm of Hughes & Wolcott, attorneys-
at-law, Dover, Del. Judged by his communications with the Secretary
he IS a silent partner. Nothing further is known of his doings and
iore'L ". "V'r'' ^"'""' ''''' '^ ^^ ^^^" — -^d, and there-
tore the master of his own destiny.
FRANK MONTGOMERY WOOD, JR.
Dear Pop :-I do not wonder thai you get impatient with your de-
hnquent classmates, but if you knew what it is to pass through a siege of
final exams such as I have just finished, in order to have The privflege
o tackmg the title of M. D. on to your name, and then of starving fo
death, I am certam you would forgive me. I am working night and
day now just at present in the office of one Dr. H . You W Jou
want a history of my life since I left college. Well, it will be short
and sweet, I can tell you.
One day while sitting in a large room over in the old seminary there
came a letter, telling me to come to New York. This letter was the
means of introducing your humble servant to the Y M C A work
of New York State. I remained in this work for one year, as strlt y
and physical director. The first six months I spent at White Plains!
N^Y., the next six at Waverly, N. Y. In that work I think I learned
cT/tuTluu'"""'''"' ''^'^'''' disciplinarian, baseball coach, football
coach, basketball teacher, gymnast, sign artist, author, copyist, cyclist
teacher of the art of graceful movements-.'..., "Delsarte"-wresder
boxing teacher, president, secretary and treasurer, leader in the Glee
Club, organizer of girls' club, Papa and Mamma. Is it any wonder that
of this "V fT'f "^'^""^' '° ^°" ^^'"'^^ Well, tL final reu
P lied to tT/ ?° '°? ""'' °' ^^^'■^^^'"^ --' ^hat I was com-
pelled to take a rest in the autumn of '98. I went out along the old
Susquehanna for a week or two, and then to the scenes of my chi^d^
hood m Ohio While there, thoughts of my future beset my soul and
would not let me go So I thought me thus: "My aim in life is o do
he mos good possible-where can I do the most?" I had prepared my-
self while m college in the beginning work of a medical course so I
bought to continue thus. Then the echo answered, where > I alwavs
hked the West Pop will remember how they called on the Freshman
from the "wild and woolly West" the night of my initiationTnto
hterary life at Princeton. So, after due deliberation, I decided that the
239
Windy City was the place for me, and I think you will think so, too,
when I am through with this recital of nothings.
However, to continue, in the fall of '98 I came to Chicago and en-
tered Rush Medical College, as a sophomore. That fall I played foot-
ball, just to keep up my propensities as an athlete (?). I went with
the Rush team on their Western trip, on which trip we were beaten
every game but one, and that was a tie. Then I began to feel that we
had gotten far, far away from the ways of our Alma Mater, especially
in the football line. No training, no sleep, only play ball ; it was fun,
but fun for the other fellow. Well, how we got back from that trip
I do not know, but we got back, and were treated finely by the pro-
fessors. Why, they even gave us extra quiz men to get us through
our exams. When that trip was over I settled down.
I have been studying medicine ever since. All that winter long I
struggled with osteology, physiology and the rest of the ologies, till
I became a junior. In the springtime, when the flowers were in bloom,
I decided on a trip across Indiana on my bicycle. I left Chicago on
Monday at 3 p.m. Sunday night it had rained; the boulevards
were fine, the sun shone, and I was feeling grand; all went
well till I had passed One Hundredth Street. Then, all was a sea of
mud, with the bicycle and myself for an island. While I was strug-
gling on, cleaning the mud and straw from the wheel at every rut, along
came my salvation in the form of an expressman, who gave me a lift
as far as West Pullman. There I took the railroad track of the Penn-
sylvania Railroad, riding between the tracks, getting off now and then
for a train to pass, all of which was very exciting.
I rode that night till 11:30, which hour found me at a pumping sta-
tion, where I stopped and asked the "old pumper" for a drink of
water — the boys know I couldn't get anything stronger at that hour.
Being well treated, I asked him if he knew where I could get a bed, so
as to lay m.y "weary" bones to rest, and to this he also replied in the
affirmative. So I chuckled to myself and followed him. He pointed
me to a small house not far away. There I roused the old residenter,
who seemed like the owl, ever vigilant, for he soon appeared at the
door, clad in the little end of nothing. I informed him of my needs and
he showed me to my room, and at last I slept. I didn't get up next
morning with the birds, but slept till 8 o'clock. My wheel was in pretty
bad shape when I awoke, but I oiled and polished it, and was off again.
At the next town, which was two miles away, I got something to eat.
Eggs I boiled over a fire next the railroad track, and like the "weary
Willie," ate my meal in silence. While I was eating, the sky became
clouded and portended a shower. I hastened my eating, and packed
up my things and mounted track and wheel once more.
The rain came on apace, and with it the wind, and of all the paces
I set foe the next mile and a half — I think I never went faster on an
express in my life. The shower was soon over, and the sun came out,
beautifully warm, and soon I was again dry. That day's trip took me
ninety miles on my journey from Chicago. During the day I stopped
240
often to pick the beautiful flowers, and to think of their only com-
panions, beautiful women. Do you know, Pop, the flowers always
make me revel in their beauty— things of beauty are always associated
in the mind, and what is more beautiful than a flower? — nothing save a
beautiful woman. The violets, there, were especially fine and fragrant.
Think of it, wild, fragrant violets, and all for nothing. I revelled in
them for that day. By night I was at North Judson, and sick, too, at
that. I hunted a hotel, and finding one, proceeded to enter with my
steed, whereupon the proprietress addressed me thus : "Put that thing
(my wheel) over there!" I didn't propose to have my companion thus
maligned, so said: "Whew, you must have been a school ma'am once
upon a time." "Yes," said she, "I taught school for eleven years."
Then she laughed, and I laughed, and we were friends. I soon got my
room and was sound asleep. The next morning I did justice to a good
sirloin, the first I had seen since I left Chicago. That day I made
Logansport by 6 p.m., sixty miles. There I had reached the region of
good roads, and was passing up the main street with the intention of
pressing on for a few miles, but what was my surprise as I was passing
the dooryard of a manse and church, to see my old friend Biederwolf,
'92, in his shirt sleeves, mowing his lawn. He hailed me, "Hello, there ;
how's Clint." Nothing would do but I must come in and be intro-
duced to his wife; and they fed me, hungry as I was, on the very best
things I ever ate. They put me in their very best room, tramp though
I was, to sleep the sleep of a gcnteelnian. The next morning I left there
late, after the "gude man" had shown me all the relics of his Cuban
campaign, where he served as chaplain of his regiment.
But I must hurry on my journey or I shall tire you so you will not
read another word. That day (Wednesday) I made sixty miles by 5
o'clock. This found me in Marion, Ind. The next day I made 122
miles, by 6 p.m. Richmond, ninety miles, and my 10:30, Home, Sweet
Home. I found mother and father to give me welcome. I spent the
summer there.
My vacation was short, however, as the new quarterly system was
soon to be inaugurated at Rush. July 5 I was back in Chicago, ready
for study once more. From that time till October I put in the hours at
study, and then, by way of vacation, went down to Springfield, Ohio,
and coached the Wittenberg College football team for a month. Here I
learned that athletic managers do not do all they promise to do, even
in writing, nor can you hold any one liable on a faculty advisory com-
mittee, all of which was valuable experience.
In November I returned to study, and have been here since. Noth-
ing especial has happened to me here, but something will happen along
about June 20 of this year, which you will have to consult other annals
than this to learn. My last exam, was passed to-day. I shall soon be in
the active practice of medicine. I shall endeavor to attend the Re-
union of '97 next June, if possible. So~, if any of the boys are sick at
the "round up," they will know whom to consult that they may be
safely and quickly, and easily transported acros the River Styx. Tell
241
them I'll promise to leave my pills at home if they will let me join them
in the good old times when we beat Yale.
Your friend and classmate,
Woody.
Chicago, III., Feb. 20, 1901.
HERBERT ROLAND WOODWARD.
Dear Fellows: — My life since leaving college has been quite an ordi-
nary one and I haven't passed through any exciting events.
The summer following our commencement, I spent in Colorado — most
of the time in Estes Park, where I did nothing but enjoy myself. Re-
turning from there late in August, I started as assistant engineer on the
P. D. & E. Railway, with headquarters at Mattoon, 111. Most of my
time for the next three years was spent in pumping hand-cars and
taking long walks over ties and loose, gravel-ballasted track, carrying
chains, levels and transits. One Christmas I spent in New York and
saw some few of '97's glorious class.
My next trip was to our Triennial, where I helped swell the number
and make it the greatest event of its kind that Old Nassau has ever
seen.
July I, 1900, I resigned my position on the railroad, and went to
Joplin, Mo., to look into the zinc and lead fields for a company. Two
weeks I spent in riding horseback through the mountain of Arkansas,
being sometimes as much as ninety miles from a railroad. I stayed in
Joplin and vicinity until September i, and then returned to civilization
with my head full of lead and zinc and all sorts of exaggerated ideas
of their values. The first three weeks in September I spent in Canada,
trying to regain some of the flesh I had lost in the Southwest. Being
very successful in this, I came back to my home in Peoria, where I ex-
pect to remain until spring, and then start in mining in Joplin.
Here's to '97,
H. R. Woodward.
Peoria, III., Jan. 3, 1901.
ALLAN STEWART WRENN.
My Dear Pop: — There is a devil of a distinction between veracity
and a class letter, recognizing which I dare to respectfully submit the
following lie :
Scarcely had we recovered our sobriety, after the week of laughter oc-
casioned by the delivery of the Latin Salutatory, when your present
scribe found himself plunged into the very midst of his illustrious
career.
It is a "doocidly" impressive thing to awake some morning about 9 :30,
rub your eyes and find yourself famous before you have had time to
put on your noble breeches. Therefore, imagine with what grandeur I, a
leading citizen of , executed a profound bow to myself in the
glass, upon that eventful morning — for had I not just read in the local
"Bladder" (sandwiched between an ad. of Perkin's Pills and one of
242
Rough on Rats) the most important news that / had arrived and how /
would do all kinds of things to a certain great industry in said town —
all of which may have come to pass or may not, for all any one, includ-
ing the leading citizen, ever knew to the contrary. Anyway, after oper-
ating upon the said industry for the space of one year, having gracefully
retired, I found myself once again in N. Y., somewhat limited as to
rocks, but full of many ideas as to the relative importance of things —
including myself.
Chapter II. begins with a problem. Q. Define a "young attorney."
Ans. A "young attorney" is a technical term signifying what is left after
the supply has exceeded the demand. Also the term is definable as "A
horrible example in Bankruptcy."
The way to become one of these things is to get a certificate of good
moral character, pay somebody else $200 or so, and then work like
Billy-be-dee'd for two years, if your moral character is good — for three
if it isn't. Then you pay fifteen bones to a body of men especially pro-
vided by a thoughtful government to receive the same, and stand in
awe of said body for a week or so (lest they make a mistake and give
you some change). At the end of that time you will be informed by
the head devil of something or other up the state, that upon a certain
hot day in June you may approach the Appellate Division (using your
heart as chewing gum to quiet your nerves) go down cellar and sweat
for eight hours. On that day it all comes to pass as above stated. Then,
for three weeks, it is your duty to be very confident that you flunked, at
the end of which period you again appear at the Appellate Division and
take oath — ordinary oaths being ineffective — after vvhich you are a
"young attorney," but can't say say you feel any worse.
But why is a "young attorney" ? That is a more difficult question.
The Appellate Division, which made him, doesn't know, because they
are only concerned with legal matters ; the fellow doesn't know, him-
self, because, if he did, he wouldn't be one; and the Lord doesn't know
because the attorney belongs to the other side. The best answer I have
been able to find is that the "young attorney" is for the purpose of being
joked about, and doing legal chores at ( — $3) per week, including ex-
penses, which he pays. Maybe some day he'll be on the bench, maybe
he'll go bust, or maybe anything — mostly maybe. So — there you have
it. Now go out and have a beer on me at your expense, and see how
you would like to be a barrister de bonis non. When I have a real live
case with hair on it and teeth and claws and other proofs of its mate-
riality, I'll set you up — after I have recovered from the fit which I ex-
pect to throw upon the happenings of that event. Interim, I remain.
Yours truly,
A. S. Wrenn.
Cranford, N. J., April 17, '01.
SAMUEL STEWART YANTIS.
Dear Keener: — From my long continued silence in this matter, you
doubtless understand that I feel myself quite incapable of success in the
243
capacity in which I am now acting. I can assure you that this apparent
indifference has been wholly a matter of my thinking that anything that
I may have done, little concerns the members as a whole, of the class ;
and also is due to my conscious inability to interest those who read my
poorly written letter.
Since leaving Princeton in the summer of 1897, I have been engaged
in trying to make a lawyer out of myself. This has consisted of two
years spent in the Harvard Law School at Cambridge. If the experi-
ences, results and impressions of those two years could be vended, to
me the price would have to be very high, if indeed they have a market-
able value. We at Princeton had many smiles and some contempt for
the boys at Cambridge, but I learned that we could profit much by zvork-
ing as they work. But perhaps I make an unfair comparison, since I
was associated with college boys at Princeton, and professional men at
Cambridge. At any rate, my two years there were were taken up in
hard work in the law school, and were in every way very satisfactory.
Certainly one is not a complete lawyer when he leaves any law school ;
he has to go against the hard reality of the business world, but I never
dreamed that one could be put so far along the road in two years at any
law school.
Since leaving school I have been practicing my profession in the
"Queen city of the Blue Grass country," my native state, Kentucky.
Lexington is an historic city, but not therefore a dead place. It is, on the
contrary, a lively city, a good place for business and professional men,
and (I think) the best place on earth to live. There are, I realize,
very few to agree with me on the last statement. My success since
coming here has not been phenomenal, but it has been fair. I have been
associated with an eminently successful and able firm, that of Breck-
cnridge & Shelby, to which I owe much. Mr. J. W. Shelby is of the
class of 1870. To those who care to read and feel a concern, I am glad
to say that the "Fates" have been reasonably kind to me, and I have
promise of a fairly successful career.
I just had a talk with C. H. Martin, '99, who lives close to Lexington.
and who has just returned from the Princeton Seminary, so old mem-
ories are fresh in my mind.
Kirkwood, '97, has been called to preach at the Second Presbyterian
Church in our city. We welcome him among us.
Good fortune and good cheer to all Princeton men of whatever class !
Especial blessings be upon the class of '97.
I have the honor to be your classmate and friend,
S. S. Yantis,
Lexington, Ky., May 4, '01.
WALTER SCOTT YEATTS.
Dear "Pop": — Having passed the stage of "17th Request" and "This
is a final appeal to your class loyalty," I feel that the time has come to
prove to 3'ou that all you said has not fallen up barren ground.
There is absolutely nothing of interest to say about myself, my life,
244
so far, being like thousands of others — lots of work, a little play, and
some good friends, with whom to talk over our troubles. I have the
good fortune, however, of living in the country, with plenty of outdoor
life, walking, riding, cricket, tennis, and the ancient and honorable golf,
all contributing to a healthy state of mind and body.
As you know from your records, I went with "The ^Etna Insurance
Co.," the fall after our graduation, and remained with that company un-
til the following July, when I entered the Traffic Department of the
Penna. R. R. I am still with the railroad, and am fortunate enough to
be in love with my work, which seems to grow more fascinating as the
knowledge of it increases.
The '97 men of Phila. have been very much scattered during the
last year, and the "crowd" is almost broken up. Palmer in Wilmington,
Ingham at York, De Coursey in the Hospital, and Burt Miller — well, no
one ever knows where he is. Jimmie Clark, Baldy Wilson, Davis and
"Gillie," I see on the street occasionally, but few of us ever "get to-
gether." Nevertheless, "Pop," the spirit is all right, although we do not
answer your appeals for letters. The whole trouble is, "The cares of
life have overtaken us.' Yours truly,
Walter S. Yeatts.
St. Davids, Pa., May 5, '01.
24s
SUMMARY.
Manufacturing and Connucrcial (56). — Abbott, Alexander, E. S., Ar-
mitage, Baird, Balken, Barkley, Beattie, Bissell, Bodman, Bogue, Bowne,
Brokaw, Church, Clarke, Clement, Cox, E., Curtis, G. S., Crozer, De
Montalvo, Derr, R., Evans, F., Fairbanks, Forbes, Furbay, Gill, Green,
Hamburger, Hamilton, Harrold, Harvey, Holmes, Jamison, H. B., Jeffer-
son, Kent, E. G., Kent, R. B., Leggett, Leonard, H. T., Mitchell,
Moore, E., Macleay, Pardee, Pitcairn, Quinlan, Riggs, Robb, W. M.,
Rodgers, Silvey, Small, Taylor, S. W., Terry, Townley, Trainer, War-
ner, Weber, Weiss, Wheeler.
Financial (Including Banking, Brokerage and Insurance) (34). —
Babcock, Bonnell, Bradley, J., Bradley, N., Cox, R. G., Curtis, F. G.,
Derr, C. B. Dickinson, Geer, Hagemeyer, Harris, W. S., Hopper,
Hubbard, Johnson, Kehler, Kennedy, Lowe, Masson, Mills, Moore, R.,
McClure, Olcott, Parker, Patterson, G. L., Pilling, Reynolds, T. F.,
Rhodes, Roe, Rusling, Speer, Starin, Sturges, Waterhouse, G., Wil-
liams, W. C.
Railroads (5).— Robb, H. C, Studdiford, Van Cleaf, Wilson, A. M.,
Yeatts.
Law (52). — Angleman, Bedford, Boice, Brown, Buckingham, Davis,
W. P., Davis, E. P., Dunlap, Dwight, Frame, Gallagher, Gilmore,
Graham, H. J., Graham, J. W., Graver, Gregory, Gulick, Hill, W. C,
Hollister, Jayne, Jessup, W. P., Kelly, Mattison, Moore, D. M., Moore,
J. T., Mravlag, McCartney, McNish, Neill, Poe, Ramsey, Reeves, Rey-
nolds, W. A., Riegel, Shaw, Shortz, Smitham, Smyser, Smyth, Stanton,
Stewart, Stockwell, Taylor, C. L, Thompson, B. H., Thompson, S. H.,
Upshur, Williams, E., Williams, J. A., Wilson, W. W., Wolcott,
Wrenn, Yantis.
Medicine (28). — Alexander, A. J. A., Altman, Andrus, Downing,
Drake, Elliott, J. D., Erdman, Frazer, Harkness, Haussling, Hitzrot,
Keese, Keller, King, Lane, Mittendorf, Macdonald, McGibbon, Mc-
Graw, Post, Roys, Shearer, Spencer, Thompson, E. C, Waldo, Wallace
(vet.), Williams, P. H., Wood.
Ministry (23). — Brenneman, Cooley, Cowan, F. B., Cowan, J. H.,
Guss, Hallett, Harris, H. S., Hoole, Jessup, F. N., Kirkwood, Liggett,
Miller, J. W., Minker, McAlpin, McCague, Newton, Peck, Richards,
Robinson, Schoonmaker, Sterling, Stopp, Ward.
Teaching (21). — Beam, H. M., Colwell, Comin, Evans, W. F., Hall,
Keener, Leonard, A. W., Magie, Miller, B. R., Miller, L. H., Murray,
McLaughlin, Norris, Padget, Patterson, A. M., Scott, Stahl, Teeter,
Tyler, Van Nest, Wilson, J. F.
246
Civil Engineering (12). — Allison, Bailey, Campbell, Craig, De Gray,
Ely, Harris, H. A., Hutchinson, Ingham, Leigh, Lewis, Woodward.
Electrical Engineering (2). — Beam, V. S., Reilly.
Mining (2). — Beatty, Sawyer.
Journalism (7). — Andersson, Baldwin, Dear, Gillespie, Hill, G. T.,
Nevin, Wilkins.
United States Government (4). — Cassels (Army), Emmons (War
Dept), Hurst (Army), Turney (P. O. Dept.).
Drafting (2). — Knapp, Leipold.
Farming and Stock Raising (5). — Clay, Jamison, A. VV., Leland,
Rosengarten, Taggart.
Studying (6). — Elliott, E. G. (Heidelberg), Garrett (Johns Hop-
kins), Henry (Princeton), Howe (Halle), Kershow (Univ. of Pa.),
Nichols (Paris).
Publishing (2). — Dunn, Sankey.
Librarian (2). — George, Torrence.
Politics (2). — Clark, Havens.
Chemistry (2). — Axson, Day.
Inventor ( i ) . — Kyle.
Illustrator (i). — Palmer.
Interpreter (i).— Katibah.
General Secretary of Y. M. C. A. (i). — Evans, T. S.
Unknown (4). — Bliss, Seymour, C. M., Smith, J. M., Vorhis.
Traveling (5). — Browne, De Coursey, Perkins, Russell, Seymour,
W. A.
Mission Work (i). — Pierson.
'Athletic Coach (i). — Smith, F. L.
247
GEOGRAPHICAL DISTRIBUTION.
An asterisk (*) following a name indicates present residence as
distinguished from permanent or home address.
ARIZONA.
MORENCI.
Evans, F.*
COLORADO.
Denver.
Beatty,
Graham, J. W.,
Thompson, S. H.
Salida.
Keller.*
DELAWARE.
Dover.
Wolcott.
MiLFORD.
Hallett.
Wilmington.
Norris,
Palmer.*
dist. of col.
Washington.
Pilling,
Wilkins.
FLORIDA.
Jacksonville.
Hubbard.
ILLINOIS.
Chicago.
Brown,*
Day,*
Guss,*
Jefferson,*
Moore, D. M.,*
McGibbon,
McGraw,*
Richards,*
Smyser,*
Wood.
Morgan Park.
Leonard, A. W.
Peoria.
Jamison, H. B.,
Woodward.
ROCKFORD.
Forbes.
Springfield.
Leland.
INDIANA.
Anderson.
Fairbanks.
Indianapolis.
Boice.
IOWA.
Sioux City.
Kent, R. B.
KENTUCKY.
Danville.
Patterson, A. M.*
Lexington.
Yantis.
Paris.
Clay.
LOUISIANA.
Luling.
Barkley.
MARYLAND.
Baltimore.
Garrett,
Hitzrot,*
Hopper,
Poe,
Riggs,*
Upshur.
Glenville.
Sterling.*
Hagerstown.
Neill.
MASSACHUSETTS
Boston.
Bodman.*
Hudson.
Harrold.*
MICHIGAN.
Detroit.
Bowne.
Grand Rapids.
Bonnell.
MINNESOTA.
ASHBY.
Liggett.
Minneapolis.
Harris, W. S.
St. Paul.
Hall.*
MISSOURL
Kansas City.
Andersson,
Robb, W. M.,*
Townley.
St. Louis.
Green,
Lane,*
Spencer,
Warner.
NEBRASKA.
Ashland.
Jamison, A. W.'
NEW JERSEY.
Bordentown.
Hutchinson.
Camden.
Derr, R.,*
Mitchell,*
Malcolm,
Macdonald,
Stockwell,
Cranford.
Wrenn.
Freehold.
Holmes.
Jersey City.
Dear,
Teeter.*
Lawrenceville.
Keener,*
Stahl,
Tyler.*
Little Falls.
Beattie.
Long Branch.
Evans, W. F. ,♦
Van Cleaf.
Newark.
Angleman,*
Gallagher,
Reeves,
Wheeler.
Orange.
Kent, E. G.*
Othello.
Brenneman.*
Paterson.
Ryle.
Pennington.,^
Bissell.
Plainfield.
Schoonmaker.
Princeton.
Colwell,*
George,
248
Henry,
Leggett,
Magie,
Newton,
Reilly,*
Van Nest.
Toms River.
Havens.
Trenton.
Dickinson,
Parker,
Ward.
East Orange.
Armitage,
West Orange.
Kennedy.*
Baldwin.
NEW YORK.
Auburn.
Jessup, F. N.*
Batavia.
Wilson, A. M.*
Brooklyn.
Comin,
Jessup, W. P.,*
McCague,*
Pierson.
DoBBS Ferry.
Bradley, J.,
Bradley, N.
Elmira.
Knapp.
Flushing.
Beam, H. M.,*
Beam, V. S.,*
Seymour, W. A.
Hulburton.
Waldo.
Morrisville.
Cowan, F. B.*
New Rochelle.
Dunlap.
Newark Valley.
Bliss.
New York City.
Alexander, A.,*
Babcock,
Bogue,
Brokaw,
Buckingham,
Curtis, F. G.,
Curtis, G. S.,
Drake,
Dunn,*
Dwight,
Ely,
Erdman,*
Frazer,*
Gillespie,*
Gregory,*
Gulick,*
Hagemeyer,*
Harris, H. S.,
Haussling,*
Hill, G. T.,
Hollister,*
Johnson,*
Leonard, H. T.,
Lewis,
Lowe,*
Masson,
Mattison,*
Mills,
Mravlag,*
McAIpin,*
McNish,*
Olcott,
Pardee,*
Post,*
Reynolds, T. F.,*
Robb, H. C*
Roe,
Roys,*
Sankey,
Sawyer,*
Seymour, C. M.,
Shaw,*
Shearer,
Silvey,*
Smith, F. L.,
Smith, J. M.,
Stewart,
Studdiford,*
Sturges,
Taylor, C. I.,
Thompson, E. C.,*
Torrence,*
Vorhis,
Wallace,
Weber,
Weiss,
Williams, E.,*
Willams, J. A.,
Williams, P. H.
Oyster Bay.
Russell.
Salamanca.
Terry.
Saratoga Springs.
Clement.
Schenectady.
Miller, J. W.*
South Wales.
Hoole.*
Stony Point.
Allison.
Suffern.
Leigh.*
Syracuse.
Keese.
Yonkers.
Davis, E. P.,
Kirkwood.
N. CAROLINA.
PiNEBLUFF.
Campbell.
Waynesville.
Quinlan.*
OHIO.
Bedford.
Craig.*
Cincinnati.
Hill, W. C*
Cleveland.
Kelly,*
Perkins.
Dayton.
Clark.
Pomeroy.
Furbay.*
Toledo.
Ramsey,
Turney.
Zanesville.
Abbott.
OKLAHOMA.
Oklahoma City.
Reigel.
OREGON.
Eckley.
Macleay.*
Portland.
Wilson, J. F.
PENNSYLVANIA.
Ardmore.
Clarke,*
Rhodes.
Canonsburg.
Leipold.*
Chambersburg.
Gilmore.
Churchtown.
Minker.*
Columbia.
Kehler.
Harrisburg.
Cox, E. W.,
Cox, R. G.
Haverford.
Baird.
Homestead.
Trainer.*
Mauch Chunk.
Smitham.*
Mercersburg.
McLaughlin.*
249
Mt. Airy.
Stopp.*
New Castle.
Patterson, G. L.
Parkesburg,
Taggart.
Philadelphia.
Altman,*
Andrus,*
Browne,
Crozer,*
Davis, W. P.,*
De Coursey,
De Gray,*
Elliott, J. D.,*
Evans, T.,*
Gill,
Kershaw,
Miller, B. R.,
Moore, E.,
Peck,*
Rodgers,
Rosengarten,
Rusling,*
Starin,*
Wilson, W. W.,*
Yeatts.*
Pittsburg.
Balken,
Church,*
Geer,*
Graham, H. J.,*
Graver,
Hamburger,*
King,*
Moore, J. T.,*
Moore, R.,*
Murray,*
McClure,
Nevin,
Pitcairn,
Robinson,
Speer,
Stanton,
Thompson, B. H.
PiTTSTON.
Cowan, J. H.
Plymouth.
Scott*
POTTSVILLE.
Harkness.*
Reading.
Frame.
Scranton".
Downing,
Williams, W. C.
Towanda.
Padget.
Wilkes-Barre.
Bedford,
Derr, C. B.,
Jayne,*
McCartney,
Reynolds, W. A.,*
Shortz,
Wissahickon.
Bailey.*
York.
Ingham,*
Small.
S. CAROLINA.
Charleston.
Smyth.
TENNESSEE.
Mannie.
Axson.*
TEXAS.
Houston.
Taylor, S. W.
VIRGINIA.
Fort Monroe.
Cassels.*
Hampton.
Cooley.*
Newport News.
Alexander, E. S.
WEST VIRGINIA.
Elkins.
Hamilton.
WISCONSIN.
Racine.
Harvey.*
AFRICA.
Wadi Halfa (Sou-
dan).
Katibah.*
CUBA.
Havana.
De Montalvo,*
Emmons.*
FRANCE.
Paris.
Mittendorf,*
Nichols (Univ.
of Paris).*
GERMANY.
Halle.
Howe.*
Heidelberg.
Elliott, E. G.
(Univ. of
Heidelberg).*
HAWAIIAN ISLS.
Honolulu.
Waterhouse, G.
PHILIPPINE ISLS.
Manila.
Hurst*
PORTO RICO.
J UNCOS.
Harris, H. A.*
SYRIA.
Beyrout.
Miller, L. H.*
250
IN MEMORIAM.
Oliver Harriman Lowv,
Died February 6, 1896.
William Headley Smith,
Died October 2, 1896.
Harry Von Krug,
Died December 16, 1896.
James Hanna Kurtz,
Died November 5, 1898.
Phillips Jones,
Died November 21, 1899.
Henry Waterhouse, Jr.,
Died February 22, 1900.
John Simmons Collette,
Died June 29, 1900.
251
THE GUARDIAN ANGEL.
The sun was down, the night was cold
And dreary was the way,
But my good angel walked with me,
Oh! my good angel talked with me
Until the break of day.
My friend and I once put to sea —
My friend came back no more
But my good angel sighed for me,
Oh ! my good angel cried for me
When I put in to shore.
I thought I found a sorrow new —
A grief for me alone,
But my good angel chaffed at me,
Oh ! my good angel laughed at me
And all my grief was gone.
But once there was a foolish doubt,
I know not how, came hither
And my good angel drew away,
Oh ! my good angel flew away
Would that I knew whither.
Wilfred M. Post.
252
FLORENCE BELL LIGGETT
}. DIANTHA BELLE HARVEY
S.
EDWARD AKIN LELAND
1. JOHN ALEXANDER FORBES
4. PERCY BERTINE COWAN
6. SALMON BOSTWICK ROWLEY KENNEDY
MARRIAGES.
Allison — to Edith Elizabeth Snedeker, September 12, 1900, at Haver-
straw, N. Y.
Andersson — to Dorothy Winifred Smart, July 19, 1900, at Chicago,
111.
Angleman — to Emma H. Carpenter, June 11, 1899, at Peekskill, N. Y.
AxsoN — to Florence Choate Leach, April 9, 1901, at Cambridge,
Mass.
Barkley — to Isabella Hardie, March 8, 1900, at New Orleans, La.
Beatty — to Grace Madeleine Rickard, April 18, 1900, at Denver, Col.
Bliss — to May Belcher, March 11, 1896, at Newark Valley, N. Y.
Bogue — to Lilian Bell, May 9, 1900, at Chicago, 111.
Brenneman — to Bessie Powell Brown, June 20, 1900, at Prince-
ton, N. J.
Clark — to Margaret Marion Sutherland, October 12, 1897, at
Spokane, Wash.
Clarke — to Esther Pratt Bartlett, April 26, 1899, at Washington,
D. C.
Collette — to Mary Parker, February 22, 1899, at Denver, Col.
Cowan (F. B.) — to Alice Marie Mayham, September 14, 1898, at
Hobart, N. Y.
Cox (R- G.) — to Thamzine Marshall Letford, November 28, 1900,
at Harrisburg, Pa.
Curtis (F. G.) — to Martha Herrick, December 28, 1898, at Milton,
Mass.
Curtis (G. S.) — to Lila C. Morse, April 22, 1897, at Brooklyn, N. Y.
Dickinson — to Roxalene Orne Howell, October 25, 1899, at Phila-
delphia, Pa.
DwiGHT — to Gertrude Annie Grace, September 27, 1899, at James-
town, N. Y.
Emmons — to Clara Gerard y De Cluet, December 22, 1899, at Havana.
Cuba.
Evans (T. S.) — to Edith Muir Pierson, July 12, 1900, at East North-
field, Mass.
Fairbanks — to Franceska Groverman Strong, April 11, 1901, at Terra
Haute, Ind.
Forbes — to Elizabeth Barnes, April 12, 1899, at Rockford, 111.
Gallagher — to Emma Leggett, October 31, 1900, at New York City.
N. Y.
George — to Mary Leslie Guion, August 9, 1900, at Stapleton, New
York City.
Green — to Teedy Sloan, June 6, 1898, at Buffalo, N. Y.
253
Guss — to Mabel Collison, April i8, 1901, at Rantoul, 111.
Harris (W. S.) — to Jeannette Jenkins Brewer, December 6, 1899,
at Minneapolis, Minn.
Harvey — to Mary Dwight, December 31, 1896, at Lake Forest, 111.
Havens — to Florence Zenobia Wallace, November 11, 1897, at
Toms River, N. J.
Hopper— to Jessie Miller, May 18, 1898, at Indianapolis, Ind.
Jefferson — to Ellen Louise Dwight Coburn, March 8, 1899, at
St. Paul, Minn.
Keese — to Lena Viola Lovell, December 31, 1896, at Syracuse, N. Y.
Kennedy — to Sarah Elizabeth Cramer, August 31, 1899, at New
Hampton, N. J.
Knapp— to Julia Anna Prime, April 18, 1900, at Yonkers, N. Y.
Leland— to Gertrude McRoberts Akin, May 17, 1899, at Springfield,
111.
Liggett — to Sue Thomas Bell, June 10, 1897, at Brandvwine Manor,
Pa.
Mitchell — to Mary Spencer Van Hart, October 11, 1899, at Cam-
den, N. J.
McGibbon — to Gertrude Louise Crary, November 28, 1900, at La-
fayette, Ind.
Norris — to Elizabeth Lippincott Fogg, December 28, 1899, at
Salem, N. J.
Padget — to Lucy Maria Adams, December 28, 1898, at Towanda, Pa.
Patterson (G. L.) — to Williamina K. Crawford, January 17, 1899,
at New Castle, Pa.
Peck — to Mary Maxwell Meeker, October 18, 1900, at Roselle, N. J.
Reeves — to Alta Marie Collins, October 4, 1900, at Bloomfield, N. J.
RiGGS — to Laura Theresa Lanman, June 23, 1897, at Hartford, Conn.
Rodgers — to Miss Thompson, June 8, 1896, at New York City.
Sankey — to Frances Wann, October 18, 1899, at New York City.
Seymour (W. A.) — to Mary Menzies, June 4, 1S98, at New York
City.
Starin — to Laura Corse Pitfield, June 2, 1900, at Germantown, Pa.
Stewart — to Frances Emily De Forest, May i, 1900, at New York
City.
Teeter — to Emily Josephine Pearce, April 28, 1900, at Minsi, Pa.
Terry — to Nellie Colgrove, February 27, 1901, at Salamanca, N. Y.
Van Cleaf — to Ina C. Ray, January 20, 1901, at Long Branch, N. J.
Van Nest — to Caroline Cox Butler, June 20, 1900, at Wilkes-Barre.
Pa.
Waterhouse (H.) — to Grace Graydon Dickey, November 21, 1898,
at Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands.
254
7. EDWARD SUTHERLAND CLARK
9. RAYMOND MORSE CURTIS
II. WILLIAM WALLACE HAVENS
S. ROXALENE HOWELL DICKINSON
10. GERTRUDE MINSHALL HOPPER
12. THOMAS ADAMS PADGET
OUR JEWELS.
Kenneth Angleman, born May 31, 1900, at Rahway, N. J.
John Hardie Barkley, born January 9, 1901, at New Orleans, La.
*Faith Sutherland Clark, born October 20, 1898, at Arlington, Wash.
Edward Sutherland Clark, born November 15, 1900, at Dayton, Ohio.
Percy Bertine Cowan, born March 18, 1900, at Walton, N. Y.
Raymond Morse Curtis, born December 11, 1900, at Brooklyn, N. Y.
Roxalene Howell Dickinson, born January 24, 1901.
John Alexander Forbes, born February 19, 1900, at Rockford, 111.
Diantha Belle Harvey, born August 29, 1896, at Marietta, Ohio.
William Wallace Havens, born February 7, 1899, at Toms River,
N. J.
Gertrude Minshall Hopper, born November 8, 1900, at Baltimore, Md.
Louise Dwight Jefferson, born December 18, 1899, at St. Paul, Minn.
Salmon Bostwick Rowley Kennedy, born March 11, 1901, at East
Orange, N. J.
Edward Akin Leland, born December 3, 1900, at Springfield, 111.
Florence Bell Liggett, born February 28, 1900, at Brandywine Manor
Pa.
Thomas Adams Padget, born October 29, 1899, at Towanda, Pa.
Mary Patterson, born February 6, 1901, at New Castle, Pa.
Thomas Dudley Riggs, Jr., born April 28, 1898, at Hartford, Conn.
Edward Rodgers, born March 27, 1897, at Philadelphia, Pa.
Frances Hope Sankey, born October 26, 1900, at Brooklyn, N. Y.
Frances Dorothy Stewart, born April i, 1901, at New York City.
* Deceased.
255
TRIENNIAL REUNION,
1897 — 1900.
257
TRIENNIAL ODE.
"THE MOUNTAINEERS."
WILFRED M. POST.
Oh, the path that we are taking
Through the mountains to the sea
Is the finest of God's making,
And we tread it merrily :
But, for all the beauty in it,
It would be a sorry way
If we could not, for the minute,
Tarry for a little play.
Rest we, then, among this heather —
Near us the rock-roses glide —
Boylike, rolling stones together
Down the riven mountain side;
While in yonder shining valley,
Where we roamed in sunny years,
Youths, amid their romp and rally,
Pause and hail the mountaineers.
Who will boast that we have journeyed
Full three years from yonder vale,
Where we challenged, jousted, tourneyed.
Learned the sword-craft, donned the mail ?
Four years battled with the foeman.
Errant knights were all, and peers ;
Now, who is there more than yeoman?
Sooth, we are but mountaineers !
Yeomen, then, tanned all and tattered,
Quarterstaff and dirk in hand;
Better staff begrimed and battered
Than unsoiled, sheathed brand.
Better dirk on briers blunted.
Cutting path for you and me.
Than the bravest warstuff shunted
Into some fine armory.
258
Rest and laugh with one another,
All good yeomen, brown and hale;
Greetings to each younger brother,
Romping still within the vale.
Theirs it is to thrust and parry.
Theirs the field of cloth of gold,
Who best learns the sword to carry
Thicks his arm the staff to hold.
Yeomen, then, tried all and trusted,
Quarterstaff and dirk in hand.
Hail the name for which we jousted.
Hail the good name of our band;
And, amid the song and gladness,
Oh, forget them not to-day
Who, among gray rocks of sadness.
Walked alone, another way.
Ended is the song and story —
Hand to hand, men, eye to eye !
Mountains round us, fierce and hoary —
Through the clouds a cloudless sky.
Pluck here each a sprig of heather.
Faded never may it be.
As we toil along together
Through the mountains to the sea.
259
^.
Triennial Reunion Son^T
(TctifSj/OLir C/?oJc<z.)
W.M.pQsl.
rr\ ~R.mpo. di Ma/*cia
L.H.Mil!er.
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— sH
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s
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J. H. Nichols
Oh t^ l^^fh fhfft we orei^rn<ffh>:^ih
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4^
TRIENNIAL REUNION, JUNE 9-13, 1900.
That was truly a Reunion long to be remembered, not alone by those
who participated in it or by the class at large, but by the great body
of graduates who partook of our hospitality. Let it be told unto the
children unto the third and fourth generations how '97 celebrated
her Triennial Reunion! How nothing like it had ever been seen
before at a Triennial ! How it was more like a Quinquennial or
Decennial than a Triennial ! How we surpassed all records in the
matter of attendence ! How in the continuous performance under
our tent we were unrivaled ! Long weeks, yes, months, in advance the
"old man" had begun to be heard from. We were told that the Re-
union was coming and that we must prepare ourselves and our busi-
ness as for a journey into a far country, so that nothing could keep
us away. Then came later information which was an assurance of
a glorious time if we could only be there to enjoy it: "The house at
No. 15 University place has been secured as headquarters, back yard
included, from June 9th to 13th ; a tent will be on hand to hide from
prying eyes the secrets of our band, which is to come down from
New Brunswick on Saturday morning and lead us on to victory.
The class supper will be held in Odd Fellows' Hall on the night of
the 9th, as soon after the game as possible. Every kind of a stunt
will be in progress during the five days of the Reunion. Come one,
come all! and rejoice the 'Old Man's' heart."
It was impossible to resist such a summons, and we came — in
Pullmans, in day coaches, in freight cars, on the bunkers, walking —
any old way to get there, till our sum total reached the remarkable
number of 142. We didn't wait for the 9th, but the class began to
gather two days earlier, and by Friday the tent was up, and we had
taken possession of the house.
By Saturday noon the place was doing a thriving busness — as
busy as a beehive and as happy as in the "old days." Many were the
renewals of ties broken three years before. Many were the meet-
ings for the first time since graduation, and our joy was almost
great enough for tears as we clasped the hand of a dear old chap
not seen for so long a time.
Promptly at one o'clock on that day we assembled at Head-
quarters and proceeded to the steps of Old North, where we had
the honor and pleasure of renewing our acquaintance with Mr. "Patch,"
our friend of Freshman year — the picture as a whole was a great suc-
cess but the married men appeared at a slight disadvantage, character-
ized, as they were, by their banner. It has never been definitely de-
cided, but it is strongly suspected that our "Star" played one of his
jokes on this particular group and caused them thus to stultify them-
selves. Then again, one might think Net Poe was father of the "Class
Boy," if it were not that Thomas Dudley, Jr., is almost as large as Net.
Under the leadership of this magnificent reproduction of T. D. Sr.
we resumed our march to the 'Varsity Field, there to witness once
262
o
<
more the downfall of Old Eli — once more to yell and shout till we
were voiceless and then at last to take possession of the Field in a
mad rush for the victorious players; and after their retirement,
borne aloft in the arms of many, to shout and sing for joy, while
countless bands played countless airs and all were happy. It was a
great victory and cast a rosy hue over all things. One hundred and
thirty-seven men sat down at the class supper that night in Odd
Fellows' Hall and not one of those present can ever forget the noble
little fellow to whom was presented the class cup. Thomas Dudley
Riggs, Jr., was a Class Boy whom we loved to claim as such, and of
whom we were proud.
Nor can we forget, either, the very touching scene when "Pop"
was presented with a slight token of the love and affection in which
he is held by each and every member of the class — that of itself would
have made the supper a great success.
Sunday was indeed a "day of rest and gladness" for many; a day
when we could take things easy — lie on our backs, under the trees,
and smoke our pipes as we used to do; or walk out to some pleasant
spot by the Brook, long since learned in our college rambles; or,
for those so inclined there was always the Headquarters standing
open to receive them.
Sunday night, in Murray Hall, was held once more the class
Prayer Meeting. That was an im-pressive meeting. United after three
years, the same spirit of devoted Christian manliness was as appar-
ent as of yore, and all were strengthened and encouraged by the faith
of the others.
The succeeding days of the Reunion, while not filled with the
rush and stir of Saturday, were yet replete with pleasures of their
own, which, though different in character, were not less enjoyable;
time did not hang heavy on our heads.
Monday night we kept "open house," and though the weather was a
bit inclement, such was the fame of our hospitality that we needed a
house twice as large in order to entertain all who visited us — and
Tuesday we recuperated.
Wednesday morning witnessed the presentation of the degree of
Ph. D., to Henry Russell and that of M. A. to several members of the
class — also that of M. S. to one.
In the afternoon came the second Harvard game, which was a rep-
etition of the Yale game of Saturday — a joy bringer to the heart
of Old Nassau — and with the close of the day came also the close of
the Reunion — a most successful and delightful Triennial.
To those who were not there, this meagre description can convey
but small idea of what it was really like — to those who were there,
may it serve as a framework upon which, as they read, they may
weave the pleasant memories of those five days into a cloth of gold;
to each may it be an incentive to do his share in the future as in
the past for the glory of Princeton and the praise of '97.
E. G. Elliott.
263
TRIENNIAL REUNION DINNER.
MENU.
PUREE OF JACK GREEN PEAS
TOASTED CRACKERS A LA GAS JET
PATES OF DEAR SWEETBREADS
GRASPED ROLLS A LA HUNK INGHAM
CROQUETTES A LA PORKY REEVES
DRESSED CUCUMBERS A LA SANKEY
BEEF CUTLETS DUNN A LA HAMBURGER, MUSHROOM
SAUCE
SALTED ALMONDS
MOORE COMIN
LEGGETT OF CHICKEN SALAD, MAYONNAISE
CREAMED CHEESE LETTUCE
STUFFED OLIVES, HOWE
FANCY CREAMS A LA COOLEY
VAN NESTELRODE PUDDING ASSORTED CAKE
PIE KELLY, WITH WAFERS A LA GHOSTLY GILMORE
PRESERVED GINGER FROM THE ATHLETIC TEAMS
FRUITS BERRIES COFFEE
STOPP !
TOASTS AND SPEECHES.
Toastmaster, Dr. Patton Miller.
264
ADDRESS OF WELCOME.
PRESENTATION OF CLASS CUP TO DUD RIGGS..Ed, Shortz
PRINCETON Bob Garrett
"Hail to thee, Princeton"
NINETY-SEVEN Baldy Wilson
"The deeds we have done"
THE FACULTY Eddie Elliott
"Proud is thy youth and age"
(babe hill)
NINETY-SEVEN IN WAR Count De Montalvo
"Noble thy heritage
Written on history's page"
NINETY-SEVEN IN PEACE Bill Ramsey
"Shines forth thy gracious name,
Bright'ning our day of fame"
NINETY-SEVEN EVERYWHERE UNDER THE SUN.
Dr. Russell
"Tho' shadows may deepen, the light lives forever"
NINETY-SEVEN CONFERRING HONORS Net Poe
"Spirit of nobleness, courage and duty"
Irrepressible Harangues ad lib.
265
CUP PRESENTATION.
By Ed. Shortz, Jr.
I've got to begin with an apology. Everybody knows it's the only way
of starting a speech in any way connected with a dinner. All the au-
thorities agree on that point. You've simply got to do it — can't get
out of it. You might just as well try to run Princeton University
without the class of ninety-seven; or try to run the class of ninety-
seven without Pop Keener.
But mine is not the conventional apology, because I am not for
conventions — not the i6 to i kind at any rate. The ordinary after-
dinner speaker always excuses himself for not making a speech,
while it is my duty to apologize for making one because you all know
I am nothing but a base imitation, and not the real thing at all. You
■know that Lady Jayne was billed and extensively advertised to appear
in this act, and now at the last minute the management comes out
"before the curtain and announces that owing to an unlooked-for acci-
dent Mr. Jayne cannot be with us this evening, and that his place will
be taken by an understudy. I know how you feel. It's just like going
over to New York to hear Calve sing Carmen, and then have her
manager bob up and say that Madame Calve has lost her voice during
the afternoon and despite the efforts of a large searching party has
been unable to recover it, but that Anna Held has kindly consented to
take her place. Of course you'd bear no special animosity toward
Miss Held, but you'd feel that you were being imposed upon, and want
your money back. In that connection I have been authorized to an-
nounce that each member of the class may receive a rebate of $i6
by applying to Mr. Osborn at the college offices in the morning.
But to get on the subject of babies in general and Thomas Dudley
Riggs, Jr., in particular, I may as well say right here (and I do so
without the slightest degree of egotism) that there is probably no
other member of the class so well qualified to talk on this matter as
I am. You may well ask the reason, knowing as you do that I am
neither a father nor a mother. Why, fellows, the secret of it is
simply this — I was once a baby myself. Little Dud there is now about
twenty-five months old, I believe, but I swear to j'^ou in all sincerity
that I've seen the day when / was only six months old. It's true,
every word of it.
Now when people want to know about art, they get an artist, or a
man that's been an artist to lecture to them. When they want to
266
know about farming they send for a pharmacentist. So when you
hear a talk on babies by an individual that's been a baby, you may
rest assured that he knows what he's talking about, and that the
syllables which fall from his lips are pearls of wisdom. And while
speaking of wisdom I can't refrain from dwelling for a brief moment
upon the exceedingly eccentric manner in which Providence sports
with the human race in this same matter of babies. In some respects
he seems to be all wise and far-seeing, while in others his business
propensities would not entitle him to a position on the ninety-seven
bric-a-brac committee. For instance, it is certainly an infinitely wise
dispensation of Providence which ordains, as a general rule, that only
married persons are to be presented with babies. Now, just why this
is we cannot tell. Why is the grass green? Why are the heavens
blue? Why does not the leopard change his spots, or Hungry Golden
his shirt? All we know is that these things are as they are, and in
this respect at least Providence seems to possess a head like a tack.
He provides the babies, but his contract ends there. He isn't run-
ning a commissary department ; the parents have got to look out for
that. Providence has his hands full enough taking care of Gill and
Willie Church. But just imagine how embarrassing it would be to
an unmarried and struggling young attorney or doctor on a salary of
$2 per month, if Providence, in a misguided attempt to cheer him
up in his troubles, should unexpectedly present him with twins. So it
would seem that Providence recognizes the fact that only those per-
sons who are able to get married are to be entrusted with the bring-
ing up of children.
But then this theory is not an entirely satisfactory one because it
is certainly a fact that the poorer a man and his wife are, the more
children they have. Why is it that we often see aged capitalists de-
part this life in the bitter disappointment of dying childless, and leav-
ing behind them enough money to keep a whole regiment of heirs
busy for years with legal fights, while the expenses of a poor man's
funeral are generally divided between twelve or fifteen dutiful chil-
dren? I have given this subject much thought, but as yet have been
unable to arrive at a satisfactory solution of the problem. The action
of Providence in this respect cannot be reconciled to human stand-
ards of reasoning, it is beyond our comprehension.
But to get down to the object of this meeting, to consider the guest
of honor, let us see how Providence has dealt with Thomas Dudley
Riggs, Jr. It is almost needless for me to say that no human being
ever began life's journey under more favorable conditions. Some are
born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust
upon them. Most of us who would be great must achieve that great-
ness by our own efforts. Look at Julius Caesar, Napoleon Bonaparte,
Jim Jeffries, Henry Russell, Joan of Arc, Lady Smith, Morgy Smith
and a score of others. All these won fame through hard work and
perseverance. But here is a boy who was born great, who had every-
thing all mapped out and prearranged for him — just think of it, the
class boy of Ninety-seven.
267
But the fact that he is already great does not mean that he will
not achieve greatness, for that he certainly will. On November i8,
1918, that young gentleman, in the thickening gloom of a New Haven
twilight with two minutes left to play and the score 5-0 in favor of
Yale, will plow his way through the blue eleven and with four Elis
clinging to his back stagger over the goal line for a winning touch-
down — and. Net Poe, I want you to understand it is your duty to see
that there is a Neilson Poe, Jr., there to kick the goal.
Later in life he will be a great statesman perhaps, and be our first
governor of the as yet unacquired island of San Higgins de El Coney.
Or his talents may take a musical turn; he may be a Bach or a
Myerbeer, or he may be a Myer or a Bachbeer — who can tell?
But there's plenty of time to think of all that later on. New
honors bring with them new cares and responsibilities, and while a
little care will not hurt a bicycle, it isn't always the best thing for a
human being. And now, Thomas Dudley, Jr., I guess you think I've
spouted about long enough. Of course you know we're going to give
you this cup. I know you think a balloon on the end of a string, or
a pack of firecrackers, would be much more appropriate, but then you
see a cup is the usual thing on an occasion like this, and I know you'll
like it better the older you grow. I want to tell you that we're all
mighty glad to find you're such a splendid specimen of a boy, and
every man in the class feels it to be especially fitting and proper that
the honor of being the protege of the great and glorious class of
Ninety-seven should have fallen on one who bears so good a Prince-
ton name. You and your mother and father are an honor to the class,
and we therefore take great pleasure in honoring you by the presenta-
tion of this loving-cup — may it participate in the celebration of many
Princeton victories.
268
'97 IN WAR.
By E. V. DE MONTALVO.
Mr. Chairman and Fellow Classmates: — I feel just exactly as I
did when I first went into action — a certain weakness about the knees
(sotto voce from the corner, "too much Loenbrau") and an almost
uncontrollable desire to crawl away somewhere. As soon as I regain
my usual composure I'll tell you how extremely happy I am to meet
you all again on this auspicious occasion, etc. I can't sincerely say so
just yet.
Our esteemed and venerable president {sotto voce from the corner,
"whiskers !") has given as an excuse for unpreparedness, his hurried
journey from the far East to this scene of glorious festivity. Not
being able at this moment to invent a better one, I offer a similar one
— I have just come from Cuba.
I can't make a speech — they all say that; but in this instance you
easily see it is the sober truth.
Our toastmaster has given me a subject that covers a wide field;
one that is full of stirring adventure and heroic deeds. I wish that
my companions-in-arms, members of our class, were here to speak
for themselves. A well-known writer has said that "difficulty was but
another name for opportunity." During this whole dinner I have been
trying to apply this rather parodoxical remark by turning this diffi-
cult task into an opportunity; and now it strikes me that it is an op-
portunity to be able to tell you that in the three great army corps that
went to Porto Rico, Cuba and the Philippines there were Princeton
men in every one, and, what is more for us, '97 men in every branch
of the service, and up at the front.
All I can really do is to relate some of my own experiences. Nor
will I attempt descriptions and vivid war pictures, for you have read
much about the Spanish-American war in the newspapers. You know
how General Shafter leaped lightly on his steed without even touching
rhe stirrup; how the reporters captured Santiago, etc. While our
battery was waiting for transports in San Francisco we were camped
in a vacant lot in the Bay District. Our "mess" call was the signal
for all the good people of that city to crowd around the fence to watch
us eat. I have seen people act just in that way when Mr. Crowley's
(the chimpanzee) dining room was open to the public at meal hours.
Apropos of this incident I overheard a conversation between two little
girls in a street car one day. One proudly said, "My papa is going to
269
take me to the circus to-morrow." "Oh," answered the other with
contempt, "dat's not'ing; my papa is going to take me to see the
soldiers eat."
The hard lot of a soldier's life is not in the fighting. In Honolulu
I had the pleasure of meeting a classmate, Waterhouse. Water-
house inspected our sleeping quarters, down in the hold, near the
bilge water, and he wisely remarked he was mighty glad not to be a
soldier. Some of the Princeton men, members of the loth Penn-
sylvania infantry, were delightfully entertained by him. I regretted
that circumstances prevented me from sharing in Waterhouse' s cordial
hospitality.
As I said before, I shan't weary you with campaign facts which
now are well-known history; there are some incidents of pathos and
humor, however, that often escape the historian.
Shortly after the capitulation of Manila, I was detailed on especial
duty on Major-Gen. E. S. Otis' staff in the capacity of interpreter.
One afternoon when the general was very busy, and unable to see
any one, a Spanish lady, the recent widow of a colonel of infantry,
presented herself at headquarters. She was pale, hysterical, and re-
cited a sad story. Without their natural support she and her para-
lytic son were left destitute. The Spanish government would do
nothing for them. Her condition was indeed desperate when she
humbled her Spanish pride to the extent of asking aid from the
American authorities. I wrote out the facts of the case promising her
to place the whole matter before General Otis in the best light possi-
ble. She left, thanking me in her profuse Spanish way. At the top
of the "Ayuntamiento" steps, she fainted of hunger and exhaustion,
and rolled down to the bottom, as we thought — dead. The soldiers
on guard at the door carried her up to the surgeon's room, where
she was restored with much difficulty. I told her story to the sergeant
of the guard, he repeated it to the men, and in a jiffy a hat was passed
around which resulted in the collection of a neat little sum. When
I gave it to her, telling whence it came, she was much affected.
"We used to call you Americans pigs," she said, "I wish we had
more pigs of your sort in Spain."
I accompanied her home and verified her story. Later she was
provided for by the military government of occupation from the "civil"
fund.
Spanish ceremony, on official occasions, is well known. When a
lot of business had to be transacted in a short while it was very
annoying. I used to translate their bombastic addresses as fully as
I could, and, as a rule, the general waited patiently for the "point"
to appear ; but one day a particularly verbose, old fellow of the Span-
ish army made me change my methods. He began bowing as soon as
he entered the room, and kept it up until he reached the desk. After
the general had shaken hands with him I expected a descent from
Castilian attitudes. But he didn't come down a "bit. He began:
"Your gracious Excellency, it is a great honor and exquisite pleasure
270
to present to you my most sincere compliments, and to humbly re-
quest a favor which I am sure your Excellency, who is so resplendent
in superior judgment and keen discrimination of equity, will not
deny me, especially as you are here, the representative of a great
republic which was founded upon the principle that all men "
When this had gone on for about five minutes, the general looked
uncomfortable, and, I began to fear running out of breath and words.
"Cut him short and ask him what he wants," said the general. I
did so, to learn that he simply wanted permission to remove a couch
from the yard of his former quarters. He got it.
Just about three years ago we had our class dinner in this very
hall. At the end of that dinner — I don't think very many of you
know what did happen at the end of that dinner — "Jamy" Clark,
who was a strong Cuban sympathizer, amid wild excitement and
much confusion, presented me with a Cuban flag. That flag went
through the whole campaign, and I still keep it among my most
cherished relics.
Fellows, this war was waged in the name of humanity, and for
the purpose of liberating enslaved peoples. As a Cuban, I am proud
to have taken part in it. As a graduate of Princeton and of the
class of '97, I am proud to say that wherever "Old Glory" went it
was accompanied by another flag almost as dear to us — the orange
and the black of "Old Nassau," and that, in many cases, that orange
and black flag had a big '97 on it.
271
'<^y IN PEACE.
By W. B. Ramsey.
Mr. Toastmaster and Fellow Classmates : — At the very beginning
of my response to the sentiment, "Ninety-Seven in Peace," I cannot
withhold a word about our men of arms. To them belong the highest
praise. We love most of those who dare to do deeds of valor, those
who have the courage and patriotism to offer their lives, if need be,
at the call of their country and in the defense of their flag. Upon
your brows, worthy sons of old Princeton, do we place the chaplet
of highest honors.
But there are other fields, also, wherein our prowess has been
felt. As Elliott has told us, some of our members have had the
courage to fight their way into the faculty. Then, too, in the field
of science, is found our one bright star. To most of us, I am sure,
when we go out at night — which is not often! — and gaze up at the
myriad stars, it is rather immaterial whether any particular star is
one or more millions of miles distant. A mere matter of a million
miles or so doesn't concern a ninety-seven man, unless it be when he
cons his railroad map and figures on rates to the next reunion. But,
fellows, to become serious, we have among us a man who has added
something original to the sum total of human knowledge in the field
of astronomy. Now, I am no prophet, neither am I the son of a
prophet, and there are no prophets in our family, — but I am going to
venture one prophetic assertion. It is this, — that Dr. Henry Russell
is one, who, as the years roll by, will bring added honor and fame
to the class of Ninety-seven and to Princeton University.
Our all-too-modest president brings us good news from the Orient.
While Russell has been searching the stars for their secrets, Garrett
has been delving among the ruins of ancient civilizations in quest of
the real truth as to the beginnings of language and art. Then there's
dear old "Pop" Keener, fellows, who is a typical modern Atlas, and
who is never quite so happy as when he is helping some one else over
a rough place. But really, this is no time to talk, and besides. I could
not, as Dr. Patton would say, "give a complete and comprehensive,
and, at the same time, systematic disquisition on this very interesting
subject in the allotted time."
Fellow classmates, when I was informed yesterday that this toast
272
had been assigned to me, I immediately sat down and made some
notes. Those notes consist of two words,- — the first is Princeton,
and the second is Spirit. I'll tell you, fellows, it's the spirit we learned
to love here in Princeton that brings success in the world. It matters
not in what field of action our work may lie. It was that spirit
which in our college days caused Riggs and Rhodes, Brokaw and
Smith, Tyler and Poe and Billy Church to play until the last second
of the second half had expired. That same spirit was shown to-day
when we beat Yale in the ninth inning. That same spirit is what
kept Montalvo at his post of duty, serving the guns of Battery B at
Manila, and caused Shaw, himself already wounded, to seize a Krag
Jorgenssen rifle from the arms of a dead regular and advance stolidly
up San Juan Hill. This Princeton spirit has taught us to be honest,
to be square, but to fight and to fight hard, and never to know when
we're licked ! Just about in proportion to the manner in which we
live out this spirit in our own lives, will we have success. For I
believe the poet was about right when he said that it is
"Not in the clamor of the croweded street,
Not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng,
But in ourselves, are triumph and defeat."
Triennial Reunion Banquet,
Princeton, June 9, 1900.
273
PRESENTATION TO SECRETARY.
Neilson Poe, Jr.
Will the most popular man in '97 stand up? Pop, I
mean you, so please rise. Don't be scared, Pop, this is not class
day and I am not the Presentation Orator. I am not going to tell
of the gay life you have been living the last three years; so, cheer
up ! Pop, for three years you have worked for and kept this class
together as no other secretary has done, and we appreciate it. I
know how eagerly your circulars are looked for because we know
there is something worth reading in them. Some fellows don't an-
swer at once because they want to receive another. This winter the
class decided to show their appreciation by something substantial,
and a committee, composed of the "Faculty Members," was appointed.
They were unable to decide on the present and thought it best to
leave it to you, with the suggestion that books would be the most
suitable thing. And now, Pop, I take pleasure in handing to you a
check for $211 from the best fellows that ever lived.
To this the Secretary expressed his gratitude in few words, but out
of a full heart.
The other toasts were responded to with equal fervor and fluency,
but the effervescent quality of the remarks baffled the skill of our
stenographer.
274
COMMITTEES
EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE OF THE CLASS.
R. Garrett, W. W. Wilson, J. H. Keener.
REUNION COMMITTEE.
H. C. Brokaw, Chairman,
A. H. Hagemeyer, Chairman of Committee on Finance,
T. F. Reynolds, Chairman of Committee on Headquarters,
A. Pardee, Chairman of Committee on Invitations and Receptions,
E. A. McAlpin, Chairman of Committee on Banquets,
H. W. Lowe, Chairman of Committee on Badges,
F. Sturges, Jr., Chairman of Committee on Class Pictures,
W. W. Wilson, Chairman of Committee on Refreshments,
Nelson Poe, Jr., Chairman of Committee on Class Cup,
Paul Bedford, Chairman of Committee on Brass Bands,
W. M. Dickinson, Chairman of Committee on Tent,
J. M. HiTZROT, Chairman of Committee on "Peerade,"
T. D. RiGGS, Chairman of Committee on Athletic Contests,
J. D. Elliott, Chairman of Committee on Sleeping Accommodations,
R. Derr, Chairman of Committee on Decorations,
E. G. Elliott, Chairman of Committee on Local Arrangements,
S. M. Palmer, Chairman of Committee on Souvenir Programme,
B. R. Miller, Chairman of Committee on Stunts and Vaudeville,
T. S. Evans, Chairman of Committee on Religious Meetings,
P. R. CoLWELL, Chairman of Committee on Music,
W. M. Post, Chairman of Committee on Class Ode,
W. P. Davis, Jr., Chairman of Committee on Banners and Transpar-
encies,
J. M. Townley, Chairman of Committee on Horse Costumes,
W. M. Dear, Chairman of Committee on Printing,
J. A. Williams, Chairman of Committee on Umbrellas.
FINANCE COMMMITTEE.
A. H. Hagemeyer, Chairman.
H. C. Brokaw, A. Pardee, T. F. Reynolds, R. Garrett, F. Sturges,
Jr., H. W. Lowe, E. A. McAlpin, Neilson Poe, C. B. Derr, J. H.'
Masson, Jr., T. D. Riggs, J. K. Clarke, J. M. Rhodes, Jr.,' C. K
Speer, A. J. A. Alexander, E. D. Balken, Selden Spencer, True Perkins
T. E. Baird, Jr.
275
REUNION MUSTER.
Alexander, A. J. A.
Allison.
Andrus.
Babcock.
Beam, H. M.
Bedford.
Bogue.
Bradley, J.
Bradley, N.
Bowne.
Brokaw.
Browne, T. B.
Bnckinghain.
Campbell.
Church.
Clarke. J. K.
Colwell.
Cooley.
Cox, E. W.
Cox, R. G.
Craig.
Curtis, F. G.
Curtis, G. S.
Crozer.
Davis, W. P.
Davis, E. P.
Dear.
De Coursey.
De Gray.
De Montalvo.
Derr, C. B.
Derr, R.
Dickinson.
Dunlap.
Dunn.
Dwight.
Elliott, E. G.
Elliott, J. D.
Ely.
Evans, F.
Evans, T. S.
Evans, W. F.
Frazer.
Garrett.
Gallagher.
Gear.
George.
Gill.
Gillespie.
Graham, H. J.
Graham, J. W.
Gregory.
Gulick.
Hagemeyer.
Hall.
Harkness.
Harris, H. A.
Haussling.
Henry.
Hill, W. C.
Hitzrot.
HoUister.
Holmes.
Hopper.
Howe.
Hutchinson.
Ingham.
Jessup, W. P.
Keener.
Kehlcr.
Kennedy.
Kent. E. G.
Kent, R. B.
Leggctt.
Leigh.
Leipold. •
Lewis.
Liggett.
Lowe.
Magie.
Masson.
Mattison.
Miller, B. R.
Mills.
Mittendorf.
Moore, D. M.
Moore, E.
Murray.
McAlp'in.
McCagne.
McCIurc.
Nevin.
Nichols.
Norris.
Olcott.
Palmer.
Pardee.
Parker.
Perkins.
Pitcairn.
Poe.
Post.
Ramsey.
Reeves.
Reynolds, T. F.
Reynolds, W. A.
Rhodes.
Riggs.
Robinson.
Roe.
Roys.
Rusling.
Russell.
Sankey.
Schoonmaher.
Shearer.
Shortz.
Spencer.
Stahl.
Stanton.
Sterling.
Stockwell.
Stopp.
Studdeford.
Sturges.
Taylor, C. I.
Taylor, S. W.
Thompson, B. H.
Townley.
Trainer.
Tyler, A. C.
Upshur.
Van Nest.
Weber.
Weiss.
Williams, J. A.
Williams, P. H.
Wilson, A. M.
Wilson, W. M.
Wilson, W. W.
Woodwarti-
Wrenn.
Yeatts.
THE DECENNIAL MEMORIAL FUND.
Fellow Classmates : — Your Memorial Committee begs to present
the following statement of receipts and expenditures for the 3^2 years,
after graduation, ending December 31, igoo:
Receipts :
1898, by Class Fund $20.00
1898, by 91 contributors 560.31
1899, by 75 contributors 515-63
1900, by 67 contributors 53170
By interest on Deposits 3170
$1,659-34
Expenditures :
1898, To Printing, Postage, Stationery, etc $29.01
1899, To Printing (2 general notices and i special) 40.74
1900, To Printing 23.06
To I U. S. 3 per cent. Bond, issue of 1898, pur-
chased Oct. 28, '98, and deposited with
Robert Garrett & Sons, Baltimore $500.00
To I Electric and People's Traction 4 per cent.
Gold Stock Trust Certificate, purchased
Jan. 2, 1900, and deposited with B. R.
Miller, Philadelphia 492.50
To Deposited with Western Savings Inst.,
Philadelphia 464.03
To Deposited with Irving Savings Inst., New
York 1 10.00 1,566.53
$1,659-34
April I, 1901, there was to the credit of the Fund $1,938.58.
It may be interesting to note in this connection that '95 reported,
at her Triennial Reunion, an amount more than $500 in excess of
our figures, and that, too, for a period of not quite 3 years.
Surely this matter of our gift to Princeton, by which we hope to
be remembered in the coming years, is a subject worthy of our serious
277
consideration. A memorial of the class of '97, to be fitting, should
be something unusually fine. Every '97 man knows this to be so,
not because it pleases his fancy to think so, but because of our glorious
record of brilliant deeds in every sphere of college effort; and because
of our memories of the life-long friends who made those records ;
and because of our life-long love for Princeton. Such a memorial
cannot be had without money; money sufficient cannot be had without
the cooperation of every man who honors the memory of his class,
and has the ability to give a dollar.
From the west comes the following suggestion : that upon or near
our memorial, whatever it be, there be placed a tablet upon which
our names may be recorded as we pass away, together with the
names of those already gone. Thus each man, by contributing to the
Fund, will help to raise a monument to himself (as it were) in old
Princeton, where all of us will always wish to be remembered. More-
over, an opportunity will thus be afforded to contribute toward the
memorial of many a classmate dead, — an opportunity in which others
than ourselves may often wish to join. And at the last the whole
class will stand together with our gift to Alma Mater.
While the nature of our gift may make a tablet impracticable, we
feel that this suggestion embodies the right idea in that it presupposes
a personal interest in the Fund on the part of every one. It will
be a good topic for discussion at our next Reunion. Would that
more suggestions of this character might be forthcoming.
Apropos of the thought of others joining in a tribute to our dead,
we desire to quote from a recent letter to a near relative of one of
our classmates who but yesterday passed away. We do so because
it would seem not improbable that the information, concerning the
Fund, contained therein, will come as news to many men to whom
countless appeals for support have been sent : "This Fund is called
the Decennial Fund because at our loth Reunion (June, 1907) its
proceeds are to be used for the establishment at Princeton of some
memorial to the class. The form of this memorial is determined
by the vote of the class at that time, and depends very largely, of
course, upon the size of the Fund. Contributions are received once
a year from each member until the completion of the loth year.
They are due about February ist, at which time the majority are
paid; but they may be paid at any time, and made to cover any
number of years, at the option of the donor. There are, however,
few exceptions to the general rule. The amount of the contribution
depends entirely upon individual willingness and ability. Before we
were graduated most of the men signed pledges to pay certain sums
yearly; but the "wide, wide world" not proving so gracious a place
as it sometimes seemed from our college-town, these pledges have
not always been lived up to ; and the Committee has never made any
effort to exact the amount promised at that time, well knowing that
the voluntary gifts of the fellows were always what they thought
they could spare from many unforeseen expenses, and were, there-
fore, to be accepted very gratefully, whatever they were in amount. . .
278
These gifts to Princeton by classes ten (lo) years out of college
have made the campus very attractive, have stimulated many
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