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Full text of "Triennial record … ed. By the secretary, J.H. Keener ..."

TRIENNIAL RECORD 
CLASS ^NINETY SEVEN 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 

in 2010 with funding from 

Princeton Theological Seminary Library 



http://www.archive.org/details/triennialrecordOOprin 



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,- 

166 



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. 



^ 



— sH 



4_^J 



s 



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t2± 



Oh fhQ bcthfhai uyea^efa^'/na thn^)en70unTa'7f7s1z>ihefS-ecf 






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ii^ iv'e could hoi forrhnz trnniif^, ilirru fara^l'i'. 



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J. H. Nichols 



Oh t^ l^^fh fhfft we orei^rn<ffh>:^ih 



.the mWnfQ^ ix)1he sea 



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r 'alP'fhe maUiu in if^ If ivould be a ^drru n^au 



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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 dif- 
ferent kinds of effort, and have been of real benefit to the University. 
The memory of the givers is always kept green in Princeton, whether 
the gift be a fountain, a scholarship, or a dormitory; and that sort 

of men of whom your was one have always bee nproud both to do 

for this college and to be remembered by her. It seems to us that 
your wish to keep his memory alive among those friends and scenes 
where he spent such happy years is a very beautiful one, and that 
the way you have chosen is the best. For whatever the form of our 
gift, he will, then, always have a share in it, and with it his name 
will always be associated. In common with the names of friends and 
classmates." 

We are confident that when the world comes to realize the talents 
of our class, and riches increase, the Fund will assume more promis- 
ing proportions. Yours for '97, 

E. W. AxsoN. 

H. W. Leigh, 

R. B. Kent, 

R. Moore, 

B. R. Miller, 

A. M. Kennedy, Chairman, 
P. O. Box 555, 
New York. 



279 



TREASURER'S REPORT. 
J. H. Keener, in account with the Class of '<}T. 

Dr. 

To Cash, Balance Last Report $196.56 

" " Collections for Badges, Second Reunion 12.25 

" " Additional Contributions for First Record 2.50 

" " Contributions for Triennial Reunion 1,662.90 



$1,874.21 
Cr. 

By Cash, Badges for Second Reunion $1425 

Umbrellas for Second Reunion 8.10 

Tranparencies for Second Reunion 1.75 

Expenses in connection with funeral of P. Jones. 9.25 

Stationery, Postage, etc., to Jan. 9, 1900 12.52 

Triennial Reunion Expenses. 
(a) Preliminary : 

Printing 7.00 

Postage 15.00 

Stationery 11.00 3304 



(ft) Actual (see Auditor's Report for Details). 1,667.90 
Expenses of Getting out Triennial Record : 

Printing 27.25 

Postage 30.00 

Stationery 12.00 69.25 



Balance on hand 58.15 

$1,874.21 



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