Crimson and White, 1908 June

Sa

JUNE 1908

Che
Crimson and White

COMMENCEMENT
NUMBER

NEW YORK
STATE NORMAL HIGH SCHOOL
ALBANY

Che Crimson and White

Vou. IV June, 1908 No. 5

Literary Department

Just Like Girls

A group of girls stood in the
halls of a High School one morn-
ing. They were laughing and
talking about something which ap-
peared to be very interesting, and
this something, strange to say, was
a boy. He had just entered the
school. He had been there a week ;
long enough, however, for the
girls to decide that he was a nice
fellow and would like to name him
in their list of acquaintainces.
After they had come to this con-
clusion they lost no time in trying
to accomplish it. Each vied with
the other in being pleasant and
agreeable to him,

Just now there was more interest
than ever in this subject. The
girls had decided to give a spread
before they disbanded their cook-
ing club for the summer, also that
they would ask the boys to it. The
president said that may be, the
boys could endure their presence
for an hour if they were kept busy
eating.

They were talking it over whom
they should ask. Of course, they
all said they were going to ask
Chester, that was the new arrival’s
name. They joked and “ scrapped ”
good-naturedly over it, but when
they separated every one of those
girls had made up her mind to ask
him before the others, There were
only five of them, fortunate for the
fellow, but they all contrived to in-
vite him to the spread before the
day was over,

Poor Chester, he was rather be-
wildered and can you blame him—
flattered. He did not know what
to make of it. He hardly thought
that each had given him a special
invitation, They surely would not
have made such a mistake It must
have been merely a general invita-
tion and probably all the other boys
had been asked, but, as he was a

stranger, each girl had thought it
her duty to be especially thoughtful
of him. Anyway he would go.
He was not a bit bashful. He
would see the thing through.

70 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

The spread was given on Friday
afternoon. After dismissal the
girls hurried home to get ready.
At three o'clock they were all at
the president's home, had_ their
lunch, enough for ten hungry men,
arranged on the table. First they
sat down and serenely waited for
the boys. Then they began to
watch the clock. First one would
go to the door and look down the
street, then another. On their way
back to the parlor they always stop-
ped and looked in the mirror—
girls do that when they are nervous.
At last the door bell rang. The
girls remarked that the b must
have thought they were coming to
a funeral, they were so quiet. The
president went to the door to wel-
come the—boy. Yes, it was just
as he had expected, but he was not
at all confused or surprised when
he was ushered into a room with
five girls. They spoke to him hur-
riedly and then looked at each
other with queer expressions as the
truth dawned upon them. Finally
they all giggled and tried to ex-
plain how it came. Just at this
climax the rest of the boys hap-
pened to pass on purpose to see
what had become of Chester, Of
course they were invited in. They
accepted the invitation they sai
only out of pity for poor “ Chet.
that he might not have to eat that
tableful of their cooking alone.

‘09

The Value of Hyssop

(Printed by permission of the
“ Wellesley Magazine.)

“T wonder when "—John packed
the thick pansy plant with its pur-
ple flower down into the cool earth
and fell back on the square of bur-
lap beneath his knees—“ it would
be best to ask her. It's never
well"—he reached for another

pansy plant—‘to be too hasty.”
And then he made several more
holes and packed down several
more plants and once more fell
back on the burlap and looked hard
toward the house.

The house was plain Colonial
with generous chimneys and dis-
creet green blinds,—all very sim-
ple, very neat and quite like Miss
Martha herself,—quite. And then
at the foot of the green sward that
sloped softly down from the house
was Miss Martha’s rare garden; in
the midst of which John was trans-
planting pansies; the garden that
was just now sparely sprinkled
with mean and feeble seedlings and
here and there an occasional clump
of bleeding heart—but that in
summer was an orderly riot of all
sorts of blossom, of old and new,
of gay and delicate, of rich and
fragrant,—of many herbs and var-
ious vines as well. All these took
much care and although Miss
Martha occasionally clipped and
sprayed a little, it was John who
was the caretaker. For years and
years he had tended Miss Martha’s
garden. Every morning early in
blue dawn or gray fog and rain, he
trudged up through the village to
the big white house to care for the
cool garden before he settled down
to the little duties that his beans
and his chickens imposed on him,

For years, I said—years!| And
the village said years and at last
grew tired of propounding the
question of when “ John was goin’
to get up spunk enough to ask
Marthy Chilcote to marry him.”
This used to be quite a morsel for
conversation but though John went
reg’lar to tea there, come Seventh
Day evening, still neither he nor
Martha ever did anything loverlike
or in the least degree scandalous,
so that finally public opinion ac-
cepted his mild keepin’ company as
matter of fact.

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE 77

So, although many of the village
people had hopes, John had never
proposed. To be sure he had come
very near it once,—once, when he
and Martha were coming home
from Quarterly meeting—they were
both friends—and the day was
very lovely, with the marshes quite
green,—a bobolink, a sweet orchard
and the children singing in the
Presbyterian Sunday School on the
hill—and John felt very queerly.
There was a dry sickness deep
within him, and his ears were hot
and the finger tips that Marthy’s
plum colored poplin brushed were
icy. Perhaps it was just the spring
heat, but John very nearly took the
step,—no, the leap of his life as
Martha stopped for a branch of
wild cherry.

“Doesn’t thee think—Martha—
that—”

“That what, John?”

“Why, I was  thinking—that
perhaps thee was too much—too
much—perhaps alone—since—”

The ‘ since’ ended it, for Martha
knew that ‘since’ meant her father’s
death, the death that had left the
sixteen year old girl all alone in the
big old house with the fussy old
English servant.

“Oh—no—thee knows I
Annie.”

Her tone was—well, shaded with
expectancy but her air was nicely
indifferent as she waved her branch
of cherry at a pretty butterfly.

“And then—thee is so good to
come so often and see me that—”

So many unfinished sentences!
John tried to start another, but the
deep sickness became so strong
that his words withered up within
him. Martha turned in surprise as
he stood stock in the dusty road.

“Why, John, thee seems so
flushed—a fever, I’m afraid, and in
the spring too. Do tell thy sister
Lide to draw thee a little burdock
and snezeweed tea. Annie makes

have

me take it for the weest bit of fever
and it isn’t pleasant but it’s mar-
vellous cooling.” And so she ram-
bled on, John pulled himself up
with a jerk, surprised to find how
near he had been to leaping off the
precipice. Why! He had barely
thought the matter over. It’s never
well to be too hasty.

But that was all of twenty years
ago, and John had seldom felt the
old, deep, dry fever since that First
Day morning. Some times when
Martha would come out in the cool
to help him spray the blush roses
or to cut the Shirley poppies before
the sun came out, he felt just a
twinge of the old trouble, a little
sinking, perhaps when her light
lawn dress brushed his finger tips.
This was the only time. He never
felt it when he went Seventh Day
to tea, and in the dark dining room
of the big house with her, Perhaps
that was because Sister Lide was
also there, perhaps.

John thought a great deal about
marrying Martha,—very gravely
to,—and_ he determined to
marry her,—but not until it was
Getting married entails a
great deal of preparation, and a
general upheaval of one’s life. John
did not fancy upheavals. Sister
Lide took care of John’s linen and
socks, and as that was thus com-
fortably disposed of, John could
wag, a contented pendulum be-
tween Martha’s phloxes and_ his
own chickens and currant bushes.
To John, there was no meaning in
the word monotonous.

3ut something very disturbing
had just happened—the more John
pondered on it, in fact, the more
disturbed he became, and this was
occupying his mind so completely
on the morning of which T was
speaking, that he started to plant
an inoffensive pansy plant upside
down. Of course she
ignorant old thing, known to be

was

time.

was an

78 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

fond of gossip and very  senti-
mental. You see, when he came
in from the hen yard the night be-
fore he heard Annie, the crotchety
old English Annie in the sittin’
room talking to Sister Lide about
something disgraceful and some-
body wearing her heart out and
somebody what was going to learn
a lesson and what was a conceited
coward. Sister Lide had refused
to talk to John about Annie’s visit.
Lide was always reticent. I think
it ran in the family.

“Of course,” remarked John
to the pansy, “Annie may have
meant—” He could think of but
one that Annie could have meant,

“She doesn’t understand, of
course—but I wonder—”

The screen door banged and
John looked anxiously toward the
porch half hoping to see the lady
just mentioned. John liked Annie
but she talked a great deal and
lately seemed a bit too garrulous,
perhaps, especially on the subject
of conceited cowards. But instead
of red calico with white rings,
lavender sprigged lawn came down
the path.

“Good morning, John.”

“Good morning, Marthy, I—”

“Tow sweet the pans look !
They are very pleasant colors this
year, doesn’t thee think?—and a
rich variety.”

John gravely smiled and nodded.

“The seedlings look so bare and
tiny—sort of poorly this spring—
No, go right on, John—I’m just
going to pick the pansies —I must
have them for the table.” She
began to put the big curled and
ruffled blossoms on the tray she
had brought with her,

“You see, my cousin comes to-
day, John. I thought it would be
well to have a wee summery spot.”

A silence.

“See this handsome brown one,
John.” = Although John’s head

went mechanically to the left, his
eyes saw nothing—they were turned
and looking within him. An odd
fear sprang up before his heart
and fixed the smile on his face and
as he looked down at his hands
they seemed miles away. Her
cousin, of whom he had heard her
speak so often. The cousin who
lived in Minnesota and who had
been with the Chilcotes until he
was seventeen and who had since
written Martha a letter every New
Year’s Day, and who had sent her
a basket of forget-me-nots just this
first of May. So that was what
that basket meant,—he was coming
back here to ask her to marry him,
—he who had no right, no claim to
her. And John felt glad—glad
with a sort of dumb fierceness
when he remembered Martha’s say-
ing they had wilted.

As he packed another—the last—
pansy down in the cold earth he
heard Martha saying something
about Annie wanting her at the
house,—‘ And John, won’t thee
stop before thee goes home?” John
on his knees before the blurry
pansy bed wondered what he had
said in answer and watched her go
up the path. Even in the midst of
this strange and excessive mixture
of feelings, he noted that she
walked somewhat heavily, Martha
was a wee bit stoutish.

He sat still on the square ot
burlap while the sunlight stole
steadily on the grass as the sun
rose up behind the house. He felt
himself strangely perplexed, He
was not a man of emotion nor a
man of many thoughts,—simply a
big, grave child with a love of
contentment and a horror of any-
thing like disturbance mental or
otherwise. Yet he had never im-
agined anyone else but himself
marrying Martha. He and she
had become so used to each other
all these years that—and John’s

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE 79

thoughts trailed off into numbness
as he sat and stared at the pansies.

After a long long time he sat up.
His head was quite a muddle ot
conceited cowards and lessons and
masculine cousins from Minnesota,
but one idea stood out plainly
above all the rest—he would mar

Martha, now—and have no more

foolishness about it. He walked—
yes, hastily—toward the
with his heart coming up heavy
in his chest and his fingers cold
and his ears hot as they had been
a good many years since. The old
sickness, stronger than ever! He
stumbled over the roll of wire net-
ting by the rose bed. Unnoticed
the cherry petals fluttered down
upon him as he passed under the
Oxheart tree. He went in at the
side door to avoid Annie—some-
how the very thought of Annie and
her red calico made him s He
found Martha in the darkened din-
ing room leaning over the bare
shining table. She was crowding the
pansies into a heavy cut glass sugar
bowl.

“They’re very sweet aren’t they,
John? I’m so glad to have them
for Annie says—” Pause—

“Annie says—they are cousin
Laura’s favorite blossoms.” An-
other pause.

“T was so little when she was
here last that I don’t remember her
—but Annie does.” She made
room in the crowded bow! for an-
other pansy.

“T’m anxious for thee to meet
her, John.”

She dabbed at a few drops on
the mahogany surface with a big
handerchief.

John stood silent, his eyes fixed
on her sweet white face, her
smooth dull hair. She! Cousin
Laura! Then it wasn’t the May-
basket, Minnesota cousin at all, but
a woman. Another upset for John’s
mental equilibrium. Now whether

house

it was just this inner upturning
that stung him to action or whether
having once really resolved to do
something, he couldn’t change with-
out a great deal of time, I do not
know, but the queer feeling in him
deepened and suddenly without
warning, without meditation, with
absolutely no cue from the con
versation, he took her slim hard
in his and proposed to her then
and there in the quiet of the cool
dining room with only the bowl
of pansies for audience. After
many years of waiting, of uncon-
scious hope came the grave, earnest
proposal and after it came—the
fi Yes, she refused him,
quietly, with no reason
with a pleasant smile

whatever-
and a gentle—but it was a refusal,
firm and final. John mentally stag-
gered, The thought that Martha
did not want to marry him had
never entered his mind.

And slowly John went down the
neat straight walk between the
lilacs and the Japanese quinces
with short breath and
under lip. And when after miles
of walking, it seemed, he reached
his house on the corner he could
only go into the sitting room and
drop into the very chair which
Annie had occupied the night be-
fore she had talked about
lessons and conceited cowards. He
had never felt this way before—
In reality, a part of hint
was gone for his love, his genuine
desire of marry Martha had lived
with him so many years that it had
been all knit up with his simple
soul. THe felt no regret, no pain,
no sorrow, only a“ ie
as if his hand, yes his head had
been cut off.

“John, thee
Sister Lide stood in the doorway

hanging

when

never.

gone” feeli

isn’t well ’—and
with the egg beater in her hand.
John shook his head. And Sister
Lide who straightway guessed that

rt

—

80 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

this was the crisis of the sickness—
Sister Lide was very keen—asked
no questions but went back into the
kitchen and put down the egg
beater and came back with an
understanding, a pitying look in
her face.

“There's but one thing for thee,
John. Thee go upstairs "—and
she led him to the door—* and get
thee undressed and go straight to
bed and I'll be up presently.” And
the big man with the child’s heart,
the child’s unconscious thought and
the child's hurt, went slowly up-
stairs to do as Lide bade him.

Lide went around to the kitchen
where the yellow bowl and the
prospective gingerbread in very
liquid form sat in  waiting—past
the soup stock simmering on the
stove and up the back stairs to the
attic.

“There’s only one thing for
folks badly in love,” said Lide sim-
ply, as she took down the bunch of
dry herbs from over the old trunk
— and that’s hyssop tea. I didn’t
suppose I'd ever have to give it to
John, he's most too old now, I
thought—he’s had it so mild now
for such a longish time.” The
stairs squeaked under her as she
went down again.

“ Mother alwa
was little that if he ever should
get it badly, to draw him a good
dose of hyssop and—Mercy, I hear
that kettle boiling over—'

John lay waiting in the darkened
room, dull, heavy with no thought,
g, just dumb nothingness.

“Thee’d best sit up, John,”"—
and a fat pillow was stuffed be-

ys told me when he

no feeli

hind him.

“Drink it quick, no, not very
hot.”

She gave the thin grey-
hair a bashful stroke, and then

treaked

straightened into the old calm
Lide.

“There, I'll take it. Now just
lie still. I'll lay the comforter on
the foot of the bed if thee should
want it—and I'll leave the door a
bit ajar—then, if thee should—”
Her voice faded as she went softly
down the hall.

John lay quiet. Hyssop tea
seemed to have a pleasant action.
He dozed. He woke and looked
around sleepily. He dozed again.
He noticed nothing all day long.
The sun stole away from his
window and finally went down be-
hind the trees and still he slept.

Suddenly the door swung the
braided rug against the chair by
his bedside, and he awoke. Mother
had made that rug too thick, the
door always caught it.

“John, thee must take another
cup of hyssop.”

John sat up  childishly and
reached for the white cup.

“ Thee'll be perfectly well, John,
in the morning. I'll just lift this
window a bit.”

He sank back on the pillow.

“Perfectly well,” and again
low voice trailed down the

s, murmuring something
about “hyssop never failing” and
* per—fect—ly well.” John never
doubted Sister Lide. And in a
little while he dropped off to sleep.

When he awoke the chicken yard
was in a terrible commotion—such
mad cackling and crowing! John
up in bed with the realization
that it was late, he must ha, over-
slept. And there were all Martha's
phloxes waiting to be transplanted !
He hurried to dress, to slip down
stairs and go quietly up the street
all unconscious of a discreet night-
gowned figure anxiously watching
through the closed blinds. Half
puzzled, he tried to think what had
happened. The day before seemed
clear enough to him, he remem-
bered every detail and yet there
was no sinking within him, no

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE 81

coldness of the fingers, the part of
him that had been lost had come
back. Surely he had made a great
disturbance over nothing whatever
—the masculine cousin was not
going to marry Martha—neither
was he, but—well—what did it
matter? He felt quite happy, al-
most gay as he hastened with wor-
ried step up the street. He did
not notice the fresh green maple
leaves, not the wan moon in the
blue west, not the gay indigo bunt-
ing on the elm top—John seldom
observed such things—but the sight
of the newly painted fence around
Henry Lehigh’s place and the trim-
ness, the clean cut speckledness of
the Plymouth Rocks already pick-
ing in the hen yard back of the
city man’s home made him feel
good. He almost ran when he
reached the lawn of the big white
house, And when he looked down
into. the garden, then—oh, there
was Miss Marthy gingerly kneel-
ing on the square of burlap, trans-
planting the phloxes while the tell
tale was rising up above the house
top.

“Marthy—I surely am grieved
—so late—I overslept—I—I—”

“Why, good morning, John.” A
flushed Martha with fingers stuck
out fastidiously straight, fell baci
on the burlap and greeted him.

“No matter, John—I thought
thee looked a bit tired and unwell
yesterday—spring fever, I thought,
and so I was not surprised—oh,
see that worm—to find thee, late—
only I knew it was best for the
phloxes to be done in the cool of
the morning—Well, thank thee,
John, I’m not overfond of the dirt
myself.”

And as John took the trowel
from her warm fingers and helped
her to her feet, even as the soft
muslin of her gown brushed his
palm, he felt no tremor, no change
and then he knew that the hyssop

tea had cured the old sickness for-
ever. And he looked admiringly
at Martha—always lovely to him—
and then waxed almost enthusiastic
as he waved his trowel toward the
cherry tree by the house—

“ Marthy—such bloom—it’s very
glorious. It’s good to be alive,
Marthy.”

To which rather commonplace
remark, Martha gently assented and
John beamed and fell on his knees
to the phloxes feeling a content-
ment, a peace, he had never dreamed
of before.

Truly—hyssop is a wonderful
thing.”

Katuryn S. Parson

As it Happened in Corridor A
(A True Incident)

Allen Nelson was not in the
most amiable frame of mind pos-
sible, and in his estimation the cir-
cumstances amply justified his feel-
ings. To be suddenly whirled up
to the hospital, with good weather
and an excellent business season
just coming on, to be operated
upon for appendicitis, and then to
have to lie for long weary hours in
bed, forbidden to eat, talk or laugh
—surely it was an undeniable bore.

His nurse had stepped out into
the hall for an instant leaving the
door ajar. Suddenly from without
came the sound of crying and
moaning, as of some hurt or fright-
ened child.

At the sound Allen stopped
meditating upon his own misfor-
tunes. Here was some one surely
worse off than himself, and he had
hardly thought that possible. Poor
child! No doubt she was frightened
at the unaccustomed sights and
was longing for the sight of some
loved and familiar face. If he

82 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

could only do something to com-
fort her!

Just then the nurse came in.

“Oh, Miss Barker,” said Allen,
hurriedly. ‘‘ What is the trouble
with that poor child?”

“That neighbor of yours, you
mean? Oh, she is just coming out
of the same kind of an operation
as yours, and is feeling quite
badly.”

Allen’s quick eye glanced about
the room, and fell upon a bouquet
of flowers that his aunt had sent
him, and that with a man’s distaste
of such things he had well nigh
ignored.

“ Here, take her those, won't you
Tell her they come from
a companion in misery. Small
children always like such things.”

please?

The nurse came back with a
smile.
“ She liked them,” she explained

briefly.

The next day Miss Strong came
over from Room 11 with a pencil-
led note for Allen.

“My dear unknown friend,” it
ran. “TI wish to thank
much for your kindness in sending
me the flowers. They are very
lovely, and I think have done me
much good.

Sincerely your neighbor,
Mollie Harding.”

“Well, she certainly is a well
brought up child to send me that
note,” mused Allen. “* Mollie,’
that’s a name, but sounds
rather like a tomboy.”

From that day a regular mail
service was kept up between Roont
14 and 11. Flowers, apples, and
oranges were conveyed from one
to the other, Allen delighting in
trying to please his young friend
who seemed very appre
all his efforts. As time wore on
Allen used to write
events of the day in amusing fash-
ion, and send them across to while

you so

cute

ative of

down the

away some of the weary hours of
the little patient. Each day,
through the two nurses, they re-
ceived the bulletin of the other
patient’s health, and in fact Allen
grew to dread thinking of going
home.

Finally both invalids were suf-
ficiently advanced in convalescence
to have reached the wheeled-chair
stage. The day came when Miss
Barker told Allen that on the mor-
row he might be wheeled out into
the hall, and see Mollie.

At that news Allen felt a shiver
of apprehension. Suppose after
all Mollie were not the ideal child
he had pictured her. Suppose she
were forward ; or suppose she were
bashful and utterly disconcerted at
the sight of the young man; or—
suppose a thousand things.

At last Allen was propelled down
the corridor into the little sun par-
lor where Mollie was waiting for
him.

Mollie! The word froze on his
lips. He had prepared a jocular
greeting, but it vanished at the
sight of the person before him.
Where was his tomboy Mollie,
snub-nosed and freckled-faced as
he had pictured her? Behold, a
tall young lady, fair-haired and
blue-eyed, appeared in as
great consternation as Allen him-
self.

“Why, I thought it was a little
boy,” she gasped, while the two
nurses who had known the secret
all along had on their broadest
smiles.

“And this is ‘ Mollie!’” stam-
mered Allen,

who

ee ok eR x

The setting sun of a beautiful
day last September was a witness
of a pretty littke wedding in a cer-
tain small village of Vermont at
which Miss Strong and Miss Bar-
ker were invited and honored

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE 83

guests. It need hardly be stated
that this gathering was the culmin-
ation of a misunderstanding and a
subsequent understanding between
two young persons in Corridor A.

Historical Avocations

There have been many noted
people who have, by their en-
deavors, succeeded in bettering or
degrading those among whom they
lived, and it is of interest to us to
note that many did it unconsciously,
some from unselfish motives, and
others from a desire for personal
gain.

As nothing, either good or bad
can be accomplished without the
exertion of our faculties, we are
brought to the idea that everyone
of note must have had a vocation,
a chosen or hereditary occupation,
at which he worked. Work is the
key to success, even though it may
sometimes be a misfit for the lock.
Work is usually the most important
part of a man’s life, but few
people can continue work for long
without some relaxation, perhaps in
the form of amusement, or work of
a different nature. As a man’s
work is called his vocation, so, this
diversion or distraction from regu-
lar occupation is called his avoca-
tion. Then we immediately ques-
tion, ‘What avocations did the
people who made history have?
What are some of the Historical
Avocations?”

Before this can fully be dis-
cussed, we must know what history
really is. “ History is the record
of what man has done, and treats
of the rise and fall of nations,” is
the definition given in our history
books. If this is true, what class
of men had to do with the r
fall of nations? Was it the ruler,
the soldier or the statesman? When

2 and

we think of history we usually
think of the wars and the leaders
of the armies, but there are other
influences at work towards the rise
or fall of a nation than its wars.
What about the philosophers, the
writers, the musicians and pain-
I believe that each of these
has a part in raising or lowering a
people. So when we name the
makers of history, let us select
people from any occupation of life.

Usually, the avocation of a per-
son becomes known merely because
he is already famous. For example,
Frederick the Great of Pruss
was a great emperor and general.
We would be familiar with his
name and vocation because he
played so large a part in history.
Then we are told, that when weary
with the day of fighting and nearly
overcome by his cares, he used to
retire to his tent and spend the
evening playing his flute, and that
this would quiet his restlessness
and give him fresh strength. So
also, Peter the Great of Russia
enjoyed a quiet time to himself,
but, unlike the Prussian king
spent his time doing carpentry
work. He is even
taken one vacation of seven weeks,
during which time he lived as a
ship-builder at Saardam. Then
too, we hear of Charles V of Spain,
who spent his time in clock mak-
ing, at which he was very Iful.

Our own George Washington
enjoyed nothing so much as the
chase and such sports as fishing
and gunning. He was also fond of
the races and took great pride in
his hors Besides these outdoor
amusements, he liked card playing,
and was himself, a special patron
of dancing.

Another great American,
drew Jackson, or “ Old Hickory.
as he was called, had an avocation
as odd as his nic! His chief
delight was in witnessing a cock

ters?

a

said to have

An-

“name

84 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

fight, and this he would rather do
than go to church (a tendency
which is, perhaps, possessed by
many others who would rather not
own it), At any rate, Jackson was
a trifle delicate on this point, su
when he started out Sunday morn-
ing with his best fighting cock, he
was fain to conceal it beneath his
coat.

Immanuel Kant, the ‘noted Ger-
man_ phil
regular habits, leading a life so
entirely mapped out by himself
from day to day, that his regularity
became almost ludicrous. He
planned his work for the day,
marking out just so much time for
recre:
from his course if left to himself.
His recreation (and it was all the
ation he had) consisted of
walking up and down his gardeu
path eight times in succession,
which ceremony he performed
punctually, to the minute. If the
day was sunshiny, he walked un-
accompanied, but if it looked like
rain, a servant carrying an um-
brella, marched with even step a
few feet behind him, always taking
care to keep the same distance be-
tween them.

Napoleon Bonaparte played chess
for his amusement. Although not
a good player, he still kept to it
with the determination — which
marked all he did, but not with
his usual suce Then too, he
and one of his companions used
to while away a whole evening ex-
tracting the square and cube root
of large numbers (a very interest-
ing and unusual amusement, to say
the least).

It is sometimes the case that a
man becomes famous through his
avocation. We should never have
heard of the Highland plowman
who furrowed his fields in the day-
time and spent his evenings at the
village tavern, had it not been for

pher, was a man of

ion, and never swerving

rect

the beautiful verses which he wrote.
By his poetry, Burns became fa-
mous, and although it was some-
thing more than mere pleasure, a
gift, still I think it may be called
his avocation, for it was the thing
he loved to do, both for his own
amusement and that of his com-
panions. Schubert also, used a
talent for his pleasure. Forced to
teach school for a living, he droned
through the long, tedious days, and
when school was over, hurried
away to write out and play his
wonderful compositions. He never
knew the value of his works, be-
lieving them only good for his own
enjoyment, but after his death, his
music was collected, and he won
the fame which was due him.

Unlike Schubert, | Beethoven
chose music for his profession, but
he loved to steal away alone, and
roam the woods in search of curious
plants, or to catch a new bird note.

It would be interesting to know
what some of the greatest tyrants
in history enjoyed doing. For ex-
ample, Nero, what did he do for
recreation? Perhaps he had no
avocation. We hear that he burned
Rome and committed other terrible
crimes for his amusements, but
whether he succeeded in amusing
himself by these is a question not
sily answered. However, in spite
of all his wickedness, he was pas-
sionately fond of music and poetry
and spent much of his time in play-
ing and composing.

There are some people who have
no particular pleasure outside of
their daily work, but whose time is
claimed by some great ambition, as
to become a good scholar, and
therefore they use whatever spare
time they have in trying to realize
their ambition. So it was with
Benjamin Franklin. Franklin was
bound out to work at a trade he
disliked, but he still had one great
hope of some day being a good

e

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE 85

scholar, and of doing something of
use outside the world of printing.
With this ideal in view, he worked
faithfully at any books which he
could procure, committed portions
to memory and gained for himself
a general, useful knowledge, which
he later used to help him realize, at
least a part of his ambition. ‘This
cannot rightly be called an avoca-
tion, but with Franklin it took the
place of one.

Often times people change from
their vocations to their avocations
and in doing this win their greatest
fame. Let us take, for instance,
George Fox. George Fox was
brought up in his father’s trade,
shoemaking, and although indus-
trious at the work, he realized but
a scanty support for himself. He
had but little time to himself, and
his one pleasure was to collect a
group of fellow citizens, and make
speeches to them on the various
subjects of the day. In this un-
eventful way his life went on for
years, until one day, a great change
came. Always a religious man, but
inclined towards a rather super-
stitious belief in dreams and signs,
he was finally brought to believe
that he was especially called to
preach a doctrine of Christ, which
had been ignored by the religious
sects of the day. And now his
practice in speech-making was of
use to him, and it was a newer and
an even greater pleasure than be-
fore. So putting his shoemaking
away, he gathered a crowd of
hearers and set out on his great
work, and, he is now known to us
as the founder of the Friend’s
Meeting in England.

Robert Fulton also changed his
vocation for his avocation and by
doing this won great renown,
When a boy, he appeared to possess
about an equal talent for art and
science, but choosing the art, he
was educated for a painter. While

engaged in this work, he spent
about all of his spare time in
manufacturing machines, large and
small, and he made his friends
generally uncomfortable for fear
that something would happen to
both him and his inventions. He
was very successful as a painter,
and he loved the work, but he
came to realize that there was an
empty field in science which needed
a laborer, and he thought perhaps
he was the one required. So he
abandoned his hope of becoming a
great artist, his art and science
changed places, and Robert Ful-
ton became the world renowned
“Steamboat Man.”

But while we are naming the
makers of history, we must not
forget the women who have made
their names prominent. It is true
that the list is not as long nor as
brilliant as that of the men, This
seems to signify that women have
not accomplished as much as the
men, but women have done a great
deal, both directly and indirectly
I know that the Amazons were
conquered long ago, and that there
have been very few war-like wo-
men since that day, still fame may
be won in other fields than those of
battle. A woman's work has al-
ways been in the home, where she
been able to find plenty to do,
and so comparatively few women
have broken away from household
ties to another vocation, or even to
a short recreation hour. One of
these few, perhaps, is Harriet
Beecher Stowe. Her vocation was
in the home, but outside, she en-
joyed her writing, especially, if by
it, she could give benefit to anyone
else. A parallel example is Helen
Hunt Jackson. She too, chose
writing as her outside occupation,
both for her own enjoyment and
the good of others.

Queen Victoria liked nothing
better than to do good, and she

86 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

spent much of her spare time in
going about among the poor and
sick, giving generously to those in
need.

We would scarcely think of
Matilda of Flanders were it not
for her avocation. Although a
queen, a wife, and a mother, she
won her greatest fame through her
use of the needle, and we know her
as the designor of the magnificent
Bayeux Tapestry, at which she and
her ladies spent their idle moments.

There are a few characters in
history which were so great that
they asked the world for no
pleasure, other than that which
comes when we see a finished work
before us. There are men and
women who have exerted their
whole lives in helping mankind,
and who seem never to have been
free from duty, or to have wished
for such freedom, Such a woman
was Florence Nightingale. She
labored unceasingly, caring for
those who were sick and wounded ;
never complaining, and never im-
patient, but always ready to lend a
hand to some one in trouble. The
debt which a nation owes to such
a woman can never be paid.

And such a man was Abrahani
Lincoln. Never ambitious for him-
self, his big, warm heart felt for
all in need, while his great, un-
gainly hand tightly clasped the
weaker one, and shook the wel-
come which the kind eyes always
gave. Lincoln never sought ple:
ure for himself, but he took his
enjoyment in doing some friendly
deed in his own way. He was a
man to whom any country might
well be proud to entrust its a

Such men and women, who have
no aim but to help others, are His-
tory’s brightest lights, and it may
well be said of them—* Heaven is
their vocation, therefore all earthly
employments are— Avocations.

—Polly Primrose

History of the Class of 1908

The cycle of time moving stead-
ily on, the class of 1908 will soon
be a thing of the past; these four
walls of our Alma Mater will soon
no longer greet the members of
this class; the time will have come
and gone when we will have met
for the last time as members of the
class of 1908, and will have parted,
each starting in his own narrow
pathway through life. To-day, we
are once more assembled to give
to our school a last farewell, and
every wish for a prosperous future.
Infortunately, for the public at
large the reputation of the Normal
High School in particular, and my-
self, I was chosen to relate the his-
tory of this class. Thus it is with
its apologies that I shall endeavor
to lead you back to that eventful
morning in September of 1904,
when we first made our appearance
in the High School world.

Tt was with loudly beating hearts
that under the guidance of Miss
Perine, we found ourselves lined
up before the door of the High
School chapel. A consultation was
then held between Miss Perine and
Dr. Aspinwall as regards our fate
and in a few minutes, the door was
suddenly thrown open and we were
unceremoniously told to “ walk in.”
We advanced with uncertain steps
into our chapel “to be,” maybe,
when, alas, Miss Perine deserted
us, and we stood trembling, hud-
dled together like a flock of fright-
ened sheep, feeling much worse,
and staring in blank amazement at
asea of grinning faces whose own-
ers seemed so pleased to welcome
y as their own.
After much  gesticulating on the
part of Dr, Aspinwall, it was finally
impressed upon our fertile brains,
for the time benumbed, that we
were to have seats. No second in-
vitation was needed and consider-
able confusion followed accom-

us to a like mise:

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE 87

panied by more gesticulating and
incomprehensible speech on the
part of our new principal. How-
ever, with some difficulty, the boys
managed to part from the girls and
took seats on one side while the
girls took seats on the other. Tem-
porarily settled, at last, we began
to cast shy glances around us, when
we found to our amazement that
everyone seemed to be doing the
same, with this difference, how-
ever, that we seemed to be the ob-
ject of attraction. They all seemed
to look down upon us with such
interest, and curiosity; in a man-
ner, much resembling the way they
would have looked down upon the
young shoots of grass as they first
appear, or upon the tiny leaves as
they first begin to unfurl. We
commenced that morning by sing-
ing “Nearer My God to Thee,”
and I believe I may safely say that
never before had we so thoroughly
appreciated the meaning of those
words. Dr. Aspinwall then en-
deavored to explain to us the ar-
rangement of our recitations and
class-rooms, which explanation,
took us three weeks or more to
comprehend.

At the end of this time, we had
become quite accustomed to our
new surroundings. We had learned
to highly respect our new principal,
Dr. Aspinwall, and also Miss Mc-
Cutcheon, who we found to be no
exception to the rule, that the
Faculty is an ever present help in
time of trouble, but it must not be
forgotten, that it is also all too often
for our own good, an unexpected
interference in time of pleasure.

We were all pleased to make use
of the study period. It was a new
thing for us, and walks in the park
were so refreshing, and besides
the soda fountain was so near.

The second years soon began to
take notice of us, as well they
might, but with the exception that

they sampled a few of our lunches
and endeavored to cultivate the
voices of a few of our most prom-
ising members, they gave us but
very little trouble.

In- the early part of February,
our class received an addition. We
were joyfully surprised one glor-
ious winter morning to obtain
reinforcements in the form of
twelve scholars from the Grammar
department known as the Special
class, who we were told were to
join us in our work and become
members of our class.

We soon became aware of the
fact that our school had started a
paper and like ail loyal students,
we supported it in the best way
that we could. About this time,
the board of editors of the Crrm-
soN AND Wire, as it was called,
offered three prizes for literar
compositions to be printed in its
columns. As a result, both a
Fix and Miss Valentine, believing
that it would be well that some
member of our class receive one
of these prizes, scratched off some-
thing while feeling rather blue and
probably having nothing else to do
and, of course, it is useless to add,
received first and second priz
respectively.

We were also glad to hear of
the gymnasium and you may trust
that we were by no means back-
ward about coming forward to
avail ourselves of its benefits.

As a naturally observant class,
we could not help but notice that
Miss Lappens seemed inclined to
arrive late each morning. nee
she lived out of town, we tried our
best to overlook the fault but some-
one suggested that she was spend-
ing her time trying to do up her
hair like Miss Bender's—vanity,
vanity, all is—oh, rats.

Thus quite uneventfully passed
the first year of our life in the Nor-
mal High School; spring came,

88 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

dreaded examinations and then
Commencement.

Vacation over, we returned in
September, the same happy-go-
lucky class which had left a few
months previous. But now we
were powerful second years and as
the first years commenced to shout
tar-an-tu-la, tar-an-tu-la, as we
sang the chorus of “ Old Glory,”
we thought it our duty to teach
them a few lessons in High School
conduct and rest assured, it was
done with the greatest pleasure.
Perhaps our experience may with
that class best be illustrated by the
following Latin (?) verse, which
commemorated to the occasion:
“Freshi walka the hallibus
Are seized by the great Sopho-

morum,

Get hustled right over the flooribus
And lockeda behinda the doorum.
Boyibus late for recessibus
Poor Freshi! Now they are no

morums,
For they gotta the terrible, fiercibus
Awfielis lecturiorum.

Our courses of study now began
to verge more and more. Mr. Wis-
well was seen one morning, as
usual, in conversation with his
Latin teacher, who among other
things told him that one of the
greatest benefits to be derived from
his Latin work was an enlargement
of his vocabulary and greater facil-
ity in speech, Eben thought a mo-
ment, but a moment only did it take
him to decide that a Latin training
was unnecessary for him and
would only prove a waste of time.
This is the story of but one. The
girls, oh, thoughtless creatures, un-
mindful of their abilities in that
direction, continued to trot through
their Latin course.

It was about this time that we
were pleased to welcome Miss
Flanders as a member of our class.
We are sorry to say that she also
has the habit of arriving late, but,

of course, there is some excuse, as
she lives out of town, and then be-
sides, you know, as it was an-
nounced at chapel exercises, she is
so well acquainted with the con-
ductors on the Albany and Hudson
line.

It was shortly after the first issue
of the “Crimson anp Wuuirs,”
for that year, that the board of
editors of that renowned publica-
tion saw fit to accord our class an-
other honor by electing Mr. Evory,
Assistant Business Manager, and
later Manager.

I must not neglect here to make
mention of the arrival of another
new member by the name of Har-
old Van— etc., whom we first dis-
covered vainly striving to find his
class room in the lower hall while
he kept one eye open for the num-
bers on the doors and with the other
steadily watched the girls as they
went from one recitation to an-
other.

3y the way, you have all heard
of that innocent, lamb-like little
girl, named Gilboy, Miss Mary
Gilboy. When she first landed, we
found her on the Normal steps
weeping softly to herself with an
unused but badly wrinkled transfer
in her hand marked Green Island.
We helped her to her feet but, alas,
saw that the transfer was overdue,
so what could we do. You know
the rest, here she stayed, but the
fact remains undisputed that her
heart is in the Troy High School.

About this time, a glee club for
the girls was formed, which had a
membership of about twenty-five,
including several of the girls from
our class. It is well known how
long the club continued to exist.

While we still studied—as hard
as ever—Christmas vacation soon
came and passed by and we found
ourselves entering upon a new year
with the usual resolutions, soon to
be broken. On returning after our

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE 89

mid-year vacation, we were greatly
pleased to be informed that we
were to have the honor of writing
compositions of at least 200 words
every two weeks for the Faculty.
Besides, you know, we were to re-
write them within that time, that is,
most of us. Yet it did our hearts
good, once in a while to get just
a glimpse at the returned compos
tions of Miss Valentine or Mis
Everingham, or one of the other
brilliant exceptions, and feast our
eyes upon those simple yet unat-
tainable words, A “—do not re-
write.”

With this additional work upon
our hands, the days slipped quickly
by until that fateful night of Jan-
uary eighth was reached, The story
of that night has already been told
many times. Many of us were
there to see our beloved Alma
Mater go up in smoke and come
down in ashes. Some, however,
did not learn of the terrible event
until the following morning when
upon arriving, we found ourselves
turned out in the cold while many
of our books and choice belongings
baked in the smoldering ruins.
The trustees of the Trinity M. E.
Church were most generous, how-
ever, and we were most pleased in
the morning to assemble in the
Sunday School rooms of the church
which they were kind enough to
offer us as a permanently tem-
porary abode in which to conduct
our recitations. It was while as-
sembled there, that morning, that
we were informed by Dr. Milne
that work would be resumed in
two or three days and then did we
turn toward our teachers with tears
in our eyes and in all truth agree
with them that this was indeed an
aggravation, There was, however,
one bit of consolation to be found
in the fact that our school session
would end at 12.30 o'clock instead
of 1.15.

It took us but a short time to be-
come accustomed to our new quar-
ters and before long, we, with the
usual exceptions, were again work-
ing as hard as ever.

Examination for prizes soon ar-
rived but out of regard for the
feelings of our upper-classmen, but
few of us seriously considered try-
ing any of them. However, Miss
Morton, one afternoon in a fit of
melancholy strolled into one of the
rooms of 98 .Willett Street, and
upon being informed that there was
to be an examination in mathema-
tics, seated herself at one of the
desks and whiled away several
hours with a compass and ruler,
with the result that in June she
was awarded the McDonald medal.

The year was now near at an
end and we soon found ourselves
greeting one another as second
years for the last time.

It was somewhere near the
“Tdes” of September that we
again returned to school to take
our places as a class of enviable
Juniors. But now, what a change.
In the place of Dr. Aspinwall, we
found Prof. White with whom
many of us had been acquainted
in the Grammar department and
whom we were all glad to welcome.
Then, too, in place of Miss Me-
Cutcheon, we found Miss Horne,
who we learned had previously
been a member of the Faculty of
the Normal High School and
whom we were also pleased to wel-
come. Now, too, many of our class-
mates had left us. To be sure,
several had left us during the pre-
vious year but with so much work
we had not been made to feel the
loss so strongly as at present, In-
deed as we counted them up, we
found that fourteen of our class-
mates had already gone.

Not to be daunted, however, by
such circumstances, we entered
upon our work with increased

go THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

vigor. As a result, we soon dis-
covered that several unsuspected
members of our class were in pos-
session of brains which were really
worthy of recognition. One of the
first incidents to cause us to be-
come conscious of this, occurred
one day in Mr. Randall's Physics
class when he was heard to ask in
his usual solemn tones: “ How do
you measure an irregular square?”
Utter despair pervaded the atmos
phere of the entire class-room when
suddenly from the rear came that
still, small voice of Emily Beale—
“ Put it in water.”

As time rolled on, we found that
at last we were to be given the
privilege of taking part in the
rhetoricals of the morning exer-
One of our most promising
orators even went so far to show
his appreciation that he repeated
several times in his oration (?) “I
vas so glad I vas here.”

Christmas vacation having gone
by, we soon resumed our former
length of session which was or, at
least, should have been a_ great
benefit to us as well as to our other
schoolmates.

In a short time, we began to
seriously consider organizing the
class of 1908, and soon a meeting
was called by Prof. White. As a
result, we succeeded in electing Mr.
Evory, President ; Miss LeCompte,
Vice-President; Miss Bender, Sec-
retary; and Mr. Meany, Treasurer.
As we were soon informed that it
would be necessary to chose some-
one to respond to the Seniors at
the class-day exercises, Mr. Van
Ostenbrugge was chosen to fulfill
that duty, but upon his untimely
leave taking, the class of 1908 made
its first great mistake in electing
myself to respond.

This was indeed a time of mis-
takes and surprises. One morning
in English class while the boys
were hunting around for chairs,

é

we were all not a little alarmed to
hear Miss Cobb say in an ad-
monishing tone, to the girls, who
as was she, were resting their feet
on vacant chairs, “ Let’s take our
feet off the chairs and let the boys
sit on them.”

Uneventful passed the rest of
our days as Juniors. Of course,
we thought it best that someone of
our class receive a medal to keep
up our good reputation, so when
Commencement came, it found
Miss Valentine in possession of the
Junior Scholarship medal.

In September of 1907, we re-
turned once more, but as mighty
Seniors.

The first change of which we be-
came conscious was that again we
had a new principal and that Prof.
Sayles was now to have charge of
our department. We were all
pleased to greet him as our prin-
cipal and to do our best to co-
operate with him in his new duties.

Our courses were now more
varied than ever, but every day we
found ourselves brought together
in that one class which no good
Senior ever wished was under-
ground, English. We had become
quite aware, by this time, that our
class possessed several _ brilliant
glish students and among them
one, Miss Helen Morton, who,
upon being questioned by Miss
Clement as to who was the ancient
mariner, was heard to reply, in
tones most confident, “ Noah.”

Mr. Fowler was now beginning
to establish a reputation for him-
self as a chemist. His natural
abilities in this branch of study
were far out of the ordinary. As
he lolled around in his chair one
morning, Miss Finney might have
been heard to say, “ How was iron
discovered, Mr. Fowler?” Mr.
Fowler, alack for his reputation,
was gazing dreamily out of the
window at the minister across the

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE or

yard who, in his study, was pre-
paring his Sunday sermon, but
conscious enough to realize that his
name had been called, he indolently
replied, “ They smelt it.”

We, all, undoubtedly remember
the popularity of the Teddy Bear
at this time and Miss Hannay be-
came a victim to the craze as well
as many others. She succeeded in
capturing a real live one some-
where around Kenwood and, we
know, he is still in captivity. Poor
creature.

She calls him Bruno

And thinks he’s so sweet,
For when she gets lonesome
Why, he’s there, at her feet.

Now time passed rapidly by and
soon Christmas and New Year's
had passed. We were again ac-
corded the privilege of partaking
in the morning exercises and for
the sake of variety and contrast,
the Juniors were also allowed to
assist.

Our class-meetings now became
more frequent as there were many
matters which needed our atten-
tion. There was never any doubt
in our minds as to who our Vale-
dictorian was to be and it was with
little surprise that we learned that
the honor had been earned by Miss
Valentine, whom we also chose as
our Poetess. A little later, we gave
our unanimous vote to have Miss
Everingham give the Presentation
to the Juniors upon this occasion,
and also elected Miss LeCompte as
our class Prophetess.

But I must not neglect to here
mention the name of our illustrious
German Student, the honorable
gentleman from Wemple, Mr.
Robert Wheeler. He might have
been heard one day translating in
his beloved Deutsch classe as fol-
lows: “One should always go
dressed in laced-waistcoat and—

and—in surtout.” “Yes, yes, in
surtout, Mr. Wheeler,” said Miss
Loeb anxiously, “ you should know
what that means if you take
French.” Mr. Wheeler thought
hard for a moment and then sud-
denly blurted out, “Oh, yes, yes,
in his overalls.”

It was not long now before
we were suddenly surprised and
grieved to learn of the resignation
of our President. This, of course,
necessitated electing another mem-
ber to that office and as soon as pos-
sible, we cast our votes for Russell
Meany. A short time later, we
also chose Robert Wheeler, to hold
the office of Treasurer which Mr.
Meany had found necessary . to
make vacant.

A great deal of credit is un-
doubtedly due to our President for
the way in which our meetings
have been conducted. His motto is
—Rules of Order to suit the oc-
casion and make ‘em while you
wait. Such rules are very satis-
factory, especially when the Presi-
dent desires to have a little private
chat with Miss LeCompte before
leaving, and then, too, some of us,
at least, know that Adéle is so
sorry when any circumstance de-
prives her of the privilege of walk-
ing up through the park on her
way home from school.

In these few pages, I have now
brought you down to the present
where I shall be obliged to leave
you. In closing, it is my privilege,
on behalf of the class of 1908, to
extend to the Faculty and to our
teachers, who have aided us in our
work, our best wishes for many
happy days to come and to our
school prosperity in future years.
It is also my privilege, on behalf of
the same aggregation, to extend
the same good will to all here this
afternoon and to thank you for
listening to the history, 1f such it
may be called, of the most rema:

92 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

al:le set of human beings that were
ever collected in this history of this
school, known as the class of 1908.

Prophecy of Class of 1908

I am sure everyone must  re-
member the Cosmovilla, which was
held in Albany this spring, and how
all Albanians visited it. I went one
afternoon, and wandered about
among the pretty villas and saw
all the fine decorations. Finally I
stopped at a magic flower garden
in the gypsy camp. Here one could
pick a flower, on the end of which
was a small package supposed tu
contain a charm. I chose a pale
pink rose, and on reaching home,
I opened the small package on the
end of it, and found that it con-
tained fifteen little brown seeds. I
planted them in my garden and
promptly forgot all about them.
About: six weeks ago, fifteen little
green shoots appeared, which soon
grew into fifteen small rose bushes.

About a week ago, a bud ap-
peared on each of these bushes,
and this morning, bloomed, and be-
came fifteen beautiful garnet and
cream roses.

I picked them, thinking to wear
them to-day, and found on the end
of each rose, a piece of paper, on
which was written a glimpse of the
future of each member of our class.

I have collected them here, think-
ing some might be interested to
hear the future of our illustrious
class.

There is a certain district school
in Kenwood which is very often
favored by visits from the school
trustees. Of course, it isn’t the
teacher who is the attraction. It
must be the pupils. Tt is a hot d:
in June and Miss Ethel Hannay is
seated at her desk correcting arith-
metic classes, while the cla is
studying. Suddenly, there is a loud

knock at the door. Teacher pushes
back her hair and glances in the
looking glass on her desk, then
walks sedately to the door. She
opens it, and in file the three school
trustees. That youngest one is
Bruno, whom we used to hear so
much about in civics class. What
makes teacher look so pink and
flustered? Yes, it is rather warm
in the room!! Well the three
trustees take their seats on the plat-
form and Miss Hannay calls the
class to order,

“ Johnny, you may conjugate the
multiplication table, naming the
principal officers.” Johnny look
blank! !

“Well, Sadie, you may say your
AB C’s backward (Miss Hannay
patterns her classes after Mr.
Birchenough’s and always has
them recite their lessons, and do
their sums backward).

The lesson goes on, rather con-
fused, it is true, but the scholars
don’t mind that, in fact, it is a
common occurrence for teachers to
be confused and fussed up when
the trustees visit the school. Fin-
ally, the three visitors depart, and
teacher dismisses school. One
trustee, however (the youngest
one), is waiting outside, presum-
ably for one of the scholars. As
they file out, one by one he gazes
hard, at the apple tree across the
road, while the children grin and
wink at each other. Finally, teacher
comes out, and looks studiously
surprised to see him, as if it were
not a common occurrence.

This is an extract from the diary
of M. Helen Morton, graduated in
the class of 1908, from the N. H.
S. It is dated June 23rd, 1910.

“ To-day, at last, I have sent my
first book to the publishers. I do
hope it will be appreciated, al-
though I hardly dare expect it.
Publishers are such hard-hearted

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE 93

beasts!!! At least, however, the
beautiful thoughts it contains will
benefit one of them, even if it is not
given to the public. The very name
ought to move to tears, ‘An Un-
appreciated Genius,’ or ‘ The only
Punch on the Report Card.’ What
title could be more affecting! !”

(Second Extract) June 30, 1910.

“ At last I have heard from my
beloved book. This morning the
postman brought a check for fifty
thousand dollars. The publishers
have had to print three editions of
two hundred thousand copies each.
A special edition is being prepared
to send to the heathen in darkest
Africa. Now thank heaven, my
labors have not been in vain. I
have already had 33, 823, 499 let-
ters asking for an autograph. My
picture has been in the newspapers
all over the world. The best like-
ness was in the Hong Kong ‘ Yel-
low Puppy,’ although even from
this one I doubt if my old class-
mates’ could recognize me, such are
the effects of genius.”

The great poet is seated in his
study racking his learned brain for
a rhyme. Sheets of paper strew
the floor, some covered with writ-
ing, others with just a word or two
on them. The poet’s hair is stand-
ing on end, and a pen is perched
over one ear. Apparently he has
had a very strenuous morning, and
is feeling awfully blue. Just now,
however, he is in a brown study.
Suddenly the rhyme strikes, and he
scribbles for a few moments, then
signs his name with a big flourish,
Robert Orlean Wheeler. Then he
goes to the door and calls to his
wife. “What is it, Rob?” calls
Mrs. Robert. “Have you found
the missing rhyme?” “ Yes,” an-
swers Robert. “ Listen to this.”

“There was a darkey once,

Got frightened at his shadow,
He turned around, the dunce,
And saw that it was nothing!”

“ Yes, but you should have those
two lines rhyme.”

“Yes, but nothing rhymes with
shadow!”

On December first, 1909, the
gymnasium of the New State Nor-
mal High School was opened, and
the new instructor entered upon
her duties. She is Miss Lillian
Lovell Flanders, a former gradu-
ate. She takes a very great in-
terest in the gymnasium work, and
is very proficient in basket ball.
Classes are held Tuesdays and Fri-
days, and are attended by a large
number of the girls, for Miss Flan-
ders is well known as the best
basket ball coach in the city, and it
is said that she can do wonders
with the dumb bells and Indian
clubs, Indeed, she succeeded in
doing up one of the girls when a
club slipped out of her hand.
Usually, however, the classes are
very placid, and attended by no
catastrophes. It is very enjoyable
to watch the drills and calisthenics
which Miss Flanders has instituted.
One time she told one of the fresh-
men, to stand up straight and
throw her shoulders back. “TI
can’t,” was the reply, “cause
they’re stuck onto me.” Now, isn’t
that just like a Freshman! !

On May 15, 1912, the hall of the
Supreme Court of the United
States was a scene of hurry and
importance, such as had hardly
ever been equalled; for a very
great case was to be tried that
morning, upon which the fate of a
nation rested. The council for the
United States was a young man
who had just made his success as
a New York lawyer. His name is

94 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

Russell Meany, president of the
Class of 1908, of the New York
State Normal High School. Now
the trial has begun. And he rises
to argue the case. I need, say
nothing of his appeal, for we all
know Mr. Meany can talk. By his
firm inspiring arguments he wins
the'case and so saves the nation.
At once he is overwhelmed with
honors and becomes the most noted
lawyer in the country. Postal
cards may be bought on which are
pictures of him at the ages of three,
six, eight, and twelve. Also pic-
tures of his home, his dog and his
favorite horse, two for five, 25
cents per dozen. All the stories of
his precious childhood are raked
up. One story is told of his first
case. He was defending a man
who was accused of having stolen
a gold watch. His argument was
so eloquent that the man was ac-
quitted. As Mr. Meany left the
court room he found his client
waiting for him, holding out to him
a handsome gold watch.

“ Here,” he said. “ Take it, you
deserve it for proving I didn’t steal
it!!!

At Vassar College, a new build-
ing has recently been erected, and
dedicated to the study of the Greek
language, as taught by Professor
Gertrude Crissey Valentine, A. M.,
Ph: DEE; Div As By ete.

There are rows and rows of
desks in the rooms, and the main
room is crowded with girls, who
are the intellectual flowers of Vas-
sar. They are listening to Prof.
Valentine, who is delivering a
lecture on “ The value of Greek to
the housewife.” She states that the
baking of a cake may be timed by
reciting twenty lines of Greek, pre-
ferably Homer or Plato. Bread re-
quires forty lines. An egg may be
soft-boiled in the time it takes to
conjugate three tenses of the verb,

“Omnumi.” Professor Valentine
also advocates teaching children
the Greek alphabet before learning
their English A B C’s. Then the
English alphabet doesn’t seem so
difficult to them.

The girls all listen with breath-
less eagerness to these words of
wisdom from their beloved pre-
ceptress. No doubt they all expect
to be valedictorians some day!

Tt is Sunday morning. Church
bells are ringing, and we hear the
deep peal of an organ. The church
is crowded with people of all ages.
The choir is singing with rich and
harmonious voices, one of the
hymns we used to sing in old Nor-
mal.

Now the music dies away, and
the minister rises in the pulpit. He
is a short, stout man, of soldierly
bearing, with a calm, sanctified ex-
pression. His sermon is eloquent
and inspiring. He closes with the
solemn words: “ Brethren, remem-
ber, that whatever ye sow, that also
ye shall reap.” “Not always,”
says a voice from the congregation.
“Not if your neighbor keeps
chickens.”

Then the reverend Eben Wis-
well subsides amid a murmur of
applause (?).

In a very select boarding schoo!
near New York City, a new teacher
has just arrived. She is Madem-
oiselle Léta Lappens, a graduate
of the Normal High School. She
is the youngest teacher in the
school, and a very great favorite
with all the pupils.

From her association with the
Class of 1908, she has developed a
remarkable wit and a_ sparkling
sense of humor.

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE 95

As the pupils say:
“We always laugh at teacher's
jokes,
No matter what they be,
ot because they’re funny jokes,
But because it’s policy!”

The few travellers who pass
through a certain small mining vil-
lage in the Rocky Mountains, ad-
mire very much a little cottage, that
stands near the edge of the town,
on the side of the mountain. It
belongs to the minister, a very good
man, who, as well as his wife is
much beloved in the town. Inside,
all looks very cosy, this cold even-
ing. A dark-haired young woman,
the minister’s wife is seated by the
fireside sewing. A little girl is
playing near her on the floor.

“Mamma,” she says

“ Now, Gertrude, I shall only an-
swer one more question to-day, so
be careful what you ask.”

“Yes, mamma.”

“Well, go on.”

“Well, mamma, I’ve been think-
ing, why don’t they bury the Dead
Sea?” After the mother has an-
swered this question to her daugh-
ter’s satisfaction, she begins to pre-
pare supper, for the minister will
soon be home. Then they must go
call on some travellers who are
passing through the town and who
knew the minister’s wife when she
was Miss Ethel Everingham, gradu-
ated in 1908, from the Normal
High School,

Tt is a hot day on an oasis in
the Sahara desert. All round, as
far as the eye can see, stretch
burning wastes of sand. Overhead
is the hot blue of the sky, and the
blazing noon-day sun looks down
upon a little party of cannibals,
grouped about their chief. A little
distance apart, pacing up and down
the sand and awaiting the noon-
day meal, is a person well-known

to us, although he looks very thin
and pale. Still a brave light burns
in Leroy Fowler's s, and now
and then he shakes his fist at the in-
nocent cannibals. Leroy had left
his beloved land six months before,
and sailed to Africa, as a mission-
ary to the heathen.

Slowly a savage beckons to him,
and he advances to-
ward the group. The chief feels
of the intended victim's arm;
“Well,” he remarks to the head
cook, “I'd like to know who: in
thunder it was that said, ‘The
bravest are the tenderest.’”

A band of camel-men appears in
the distance. Perhaps it is aid com-
ing to rescue poor Leroy. At all
events we will hope for the best,
for Leroy deserved a better fate,
and the cannibals a better meal.

ay

On March 15, 1910, all passe:
by stopped to gaze at the glaring
poster in the window of Hagaman’s
Bakery on Lark Street. It was
bright red, and stated, in soulful
green letters, that Miss Mary
abeth Gilboy, the noted woman
s agist from Green Island,
would lecture at 8 P. M., March
17, 1910, on “ Woman's Rights,”
at Harmanus Bleecker Hall.

On the appointed evening the
brilliantly lighted hall was filled
with women, and here and there,
an insignificant man,
or rather Citizen Gilboy
chooses to be called, is nearly at the
end of her inspiring speech. “ Will
we allow ourselves to be trampled
upon, to be imposed upon, to be

Gilboy

as she

looked down upon, in this free land,
by a mere man? Will we stand for
it, I say
will vote, we will hav
I repeat, we will have our rights!
T hope I make myself plain.
“No,” comes the voice of a mere
man from the rear of the audience,
“the Lord did that, years ago.”

from mere men? No, we

our rights!

96 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

Every day at about five P. M.,
anyone passing the State Capitol
may see a young lady with very—
oh, extremely curly hair, standing
on the steps. She holds her head
high, and smiles condescendingly at
the world in general, as she draws
on her sixteen dollar gloves, and
straightens her forty-eight dollar
hat. For she is the only woman
member of the State Board of
Public Utilities, and receives a
salary of twelve thousand dollars a
year. She is Miss Jeanne Bender,
Graduate in the Class of 1908,
from the Normal High School.

Some people may ask: ‘“ Why,
how did she get that fine position? ”
Well, the answer is always the
same, “Oh, Jeanne has a pull in
the Capitol.”

Miss Bender does not expect to
be in the Capitol always, however.
If she did, then, why is that dia-
mond on the third finger of her left
hand? Evidently this story will
end in the same old way.

$s

One afternoon in the fall of 1910,
the door bell-at No. 445 Western
avenue rang, and M Cook an-
swered it. On the piazza stood a
young lady whom she knew to be
Miss Emily Elizabeth Beale, gradu-
ated from the N. H. S. in 1908,

I am canvassing to-day
says, “for a book in which T am
sure you will be interested. I have
here several copies of Pomp's
peculiar patent perpetual pocket
panoramic ponies for passing e2
aminations. It is a book highly ree-
ommended by all the graduates of
the Normal, both on account of the
conciseness of its matter, and the
remarkably small space into which
it can be compressed. Pleasing
sketches of the author appear in the
form of an introduction to each of
these volumes. They are attrac-
tively and durably bound. Cloth,
25 cents; Morocco, 50 cents. There

isa growing disapprobation both in

Great Britain and America, of the
disproportionate length of time de-
voted by the youthful student to
the acquisition of the dead lan-
guages. And therefore, nothing
will tend so effectually to the pre-
servation of Greek and Latin
Grammar, as their judicious union
with the interlinear classics,

Teachers and pupils recommend
“ Pomp’s peculiar patent perpetual
pocket panoramic ponies for pass-
ing examinations.”

Here Miss Beale paused for
want of breath, and Miss Cook
seized the oppertunity to say: “ No,
Thave no use for such fiction. I do
Nor approve of it! ! I am not at
home to-day! ! Good-day! !"—
and she slammed the door.
iss Beale turned away, and
murmured these two little words:

“Stung again!”

Out at Syracuse University is a
large building, devoted to the edit-
ing of the College papers. Here
are printing presses, copy machines,
ete. Over everything — presides
Miss Beth Cobb. She was formerly
a graduate in the Class of 'o8, of
the Normal High School, and went
from there to Syracuse University,
where she did fine work on the
board of editors of one of their

papers. Indeed, she was the
founder of one of the magazines,
which she patterned after the
Crimson anp Wutte, and named
the “Sky Blue and Pale Pink,” in
remembrance of it. Miss Cobb
gained her experience and wonder-
ful literary capacity from her place
on the board of editors here. She
has developed a few hobbies from.
it, also. Her favorite is licking
stamps to send out the exchanges.
Once in a while, also, she licks the
under editors and reporters.

THE CRIMSON

In the spring of 1912, the whole
populace of New York City, was
wildly rejoicing over the arrival of
a new actor from England. He
was Monsieur Saltine ‘de Nabisco,
and was playing the part of the
rabbit in “ Alice in Wonderland,”
which play had just had a run of
three hundred nights, in London.
Off the stage Monsieur de Nabisco
is known as Roger Fuller, a gradu-
ate of the Normal High School.
In fact, it was in the N. H. S. that
he made his first hits and became
known to the world of comedy.

The evening of the first per-
formance has arrived. The house
is crowded to the very doors.
People are perched on the gallery
railings, others stand, in the aisles.
At last the curtain rises. A verit-
able storm of applause greets the
well-known actor as he steps upon
the stage. He plays his rdle well,
and is pronounced the best actor
on the New York Stage. The
audience is moved to tears and
then to laughter. He twists them
about his fingers with his thrilling
passages, his sparkling wit, his
dramatic personality. Before the
evening is over he is buried with
bouquets, and is threatened with
becoming a matinée idol. The
next day the critics rave over him,
and he is booked for two hundred
nights at the Manhattan theater.

“ Beware!” whispered the for-
tune-teller. “ Your bitterest enemy
will shortly cross your path.”

“Horray!” cried the man de-
lightedly. “My new motor-car
won't do a thing to him.”

Her—* Are you coming back
next term?”

Him.—* That depends on con-
ditions.” —Ex.

AND WHITE 97

One Week

The year had gloomily begun
For Willie Weeks a poor man’s
Sun,

He was beset with bill and dun
But he had very little
Mon.
“This cash,”
my dues
I've nothing here but ones and
Tues.”

said he, “ won't pay

A bright thot struck him and he

said
“The rich Miss Goldbricks will I
Wed.”

But when he paid his court to her
She lisped, but firmly said, “ No,
Thur.”

“Alas!” said he, “then I must

die,”
His soul went where they say souls
Fri.

They found his gloves and coat and
hat
The coroner upon them

Sat.

He—* The boys

ay I'm getting
to be a regular bear.
She.—* Indeed?”
It.—* Say, Sis, ask him whether
he growls or hugs.”

Freshie—* Got a ruler?”
Sophomore.—* No, but England
has.”

At the Dance

He—* May I have the pleas-

“Oui.”
What does that mean?”
O, U and I.”

98 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

The
CRIMSON and WHITE

Vol, IV.

Avuany, N.Y., JUNE, 1908

No.

Published Every Two Months during the
School Year by the students of the N. H. &

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION
One year (5 copies) payable in advance, $0.60
Single copies =~ = ats.

BOARD OF EDITORS

DITOR-IN-CHIEP.
Curorp S. Evory, Theta Nu, ‘08.

Roger A. Puller, Theta Nu, '08, Assistant Editor,
rude C. Valentine, Zeta Sigma,'o8 | L
Grace Goldring, 'o9

Mary B, Gitboy, Q, Ls 8,'08 |
ake Lunches Bota signa, 40 | Schoo! Editors

Adele Le ‘Compte, Zeta dens, ‘08, Alumni
Beth Cobb, Zeta Sigma, ‘08, | Exchange .
Helen Horton, Zeta Sigma, 'o Editors
Eben D, Wiswell, ‘Theta Nu, '08 | puss,

Charles Boynton, Theta Nu, ' ‘sof halt +3
Harold Goewey, Theta Nu, ‘ro Manages

Le Roy Fowler, Theta Nu, ‘08 [Aare
‘Arthur Wilson, Adelphoi, ‘oo j
George Anderson, ‘Theta ‘Nw, "ro Agents

Editorials

This being the last issue of the
Crimson AND Wuire for this year,
it is the desire of the present board
of editors to here express their ap-
preciation and hearty thanks to the
subscribers to its columns for their
constant loyalty and co-operation
in aiding them in their work.

With the publication of th
¢ is ended the connection of
many of the members of the
present editorial staff with this
paper. The selection of new mem-
bers to fill the vacancies, which
have of necessity occurred, has been
given the most careful considera-
tion by the members of the present
board and by certain members of
the Faculty. We have tried our
best to have the vacancies filled by
those most competent to carry on
the successful publication of this
paper. Thus, it is with our hear-
tiest_ recommendation that we be-
speak for the incoming board the

same hearty co-operation which
we have experienced in the past.

Alumni Notes

,

‘04
Clara Springsteed and Agnes
Stephens graduated from Mt.
Holyoke College this year.
'05

Josie Caslion is teaching school
in Lansingburgh.

Mabelle Rockefeller is principal
of the Kinderhook High School.

Winifred Goldring has been
elected a member of the Phi Beta
Kappa society at Wellesley Col-
lege,

’06

The engagement is announced
of Miss Ethel Bull to Mr. William
Fletcher.

Katherine Hitchler is married to
Mr. Frank Bartlett.

Mrs, H. Herrick, née
Swayne, is living at Castleton,

Marian Kleinhans is teaching
school.

A daughter was born to Mr, and
Mrs. Samuel Ackerman (Laura
Wilson).

A daughter was born to Mr. and
Mrs. Walter Gavit (Eliza Mon-
tague),

Sara

07

Katharine Parsons has won a
scholarship at Wellesley College.

Miss Edith Jones has moved
from Clinton Heights, to this city.

Frances Warner visited school
June 2nd.

The following
present at the
Wurre” play:
Nettie Udell,
’o7; Bertha

Alumni
“CRIMSON AD

were
db

‘o7; Edith Jones,
Bott, ’o7;  Letha
Cooper, '07; Lloyd Robinson, ’06;
Florence Jenning: Mary Jen-
‘06; George Weaver, '07.

nings,

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE 99

School Notes

The Board of Editors of the
Crimson AND WuITE presented a
play entitled: “The Best Laid
Plans,” at Unity Hall, May the
eighth.

CHARA
Mrs. Wycherl

Miss Helen Wycherly
Adéle LeCompte

Miss Rose Newcomb

Helen Horton
Miss Amy Sherman. . Mary Gilboy
Lord Ferrol......Roger A. Fuller
George Harold. ....LeRoy Fowler
Steven Harold. .Clifford S. Evory
Dennis Grant......Arthur Wilson

- Beth Cobb

The speaking contest for the
Pruyn Medal was held on Thurs-
day evening, May 28th. The
medals were awarded to Miss
Clara Sutherland, ‘11, and Mr.
Eugene Haiss, "10.

Class Day

The Class of ’o8 held its Class
Day exercises on Saturday after-
noon, May 6th. The programme
was:

Processional
Overture de “ Si j’étais
G. M. Gray, ’08, H. Springsteed,
‘to, F. Van Vranken, ’11, H. Hor-
ton, ’o9, G. Valentine, 'o8, V. Fow-
ler, '09.
President's Address
J. Russell Meany
Class History....Roger A, Fuller
Song by School..........sseeees
Class Prophecy. .Adéle LeCompte

Presentation Ethel Everingham
Response. . . .. Arthur Wilsor

Class Song by Gertrude Valentine
“ Bluebeard.”
CHARACTERS :

Bluebeard... . . Roger Fuller

Mrs. Bluebeard. .Adéle LeCompte

Sister Ann.... -Mary Gilboy

Maid. Leta Lappens

Six Murdered Wives :—Helen
Morton, Jeanne Bender, Gertrude
Valentine, Ethel Hannay, Lillian
Flanders, Emily Beale.

Two Brothers :— Robert O.

ingham
Beth Cobb

Society Notes

Having previously successfully
undergone the initiation of Theta
Nu, Mr. Frost, Mr. Thomson, and
Mr. Joslin were admitted as mem-
bers of the Society on the after-
noon of Wednesday, May 27.

On Wednesday afternoon, June
10, the following were elected as
officers to serve the first term of
the ensuing year:

President—Clarence E. Ostran-
der.

Vice-President—George W. An-
derson,

Critic—Charles H. Grounds.

Secretary—William H, Thom-
son.

Treasurer—Charles W. Boynton.
Sergeant at Arms—John F.

The members of Theta Nu are
now anxiously contemplating their
annual excursion which will take
place in the form of a camping ex-
pedition for several days at War-
ner’s lake.

Zeta Sigma

On Tuesday, May 19th
held an open meeting
Faculty.

Friday evening, May 22nd, the
society held its annual reception to

for the

100 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

the Seniors, in Burgesses Corps
Hall. The hall was prettily decor-
ated with military decorations and
pennants.

At the meeting on June 2nd, the
society elected its officers for the
next term. They are as follows:

President—Ethel Secor.

Vice-President—Ruth —William-
son.

Ree. Sec.—Helen Horton.

Cor. See.—Jessie Luck.

Treasurer—Edna Moat.

Critic—Ruth Thompson,

Marshall—Florence Van Vran-
ken,

Sr. Editor—Mary Horton.

Jr. Editor—Marian Dodds.

Mistress of Ceremonies
guerite Root,

Pianist—Helen Horton.

‘Mar-

QL. s.

Misses Margaret Rhineman,
Beatr Gaysley and Margaret
Butler were initiated into Q. L. S.
on Thursday June 4.

The society tendered its annual
reception to the Seniors at the
Aurania Club, Friday — evening,
June 5.

The officers of the society for
the ensuing year are as follows:

President—Julia Macleroy.

Vice-President—Mildred Hunt-
ing.

Treasurer—Mary Walsh.

Sergeant at Arms—Sarah Cun-
ningham.

Pianist—Lillian Hillard.

Master of Ceremonies—Mar-
garet Holleran.

Sr. Editor—Margaret Butler.

Jr. Editor—Edna Scarlet.

Ye Freshe mene whoe thinke—
“Tf we are made of dust, why
don’t we get muddy when we
drink,”

“Ts my daughter getting well-
grounded in the classics?” asked
the anxious father.

“T would put it even stronger
than that,” replied the “ dear
teacher,” “I may say that she is
actually stranded on them.”

Pa heard him give the high school
yell,
For joy he could not speak,
He murmured, “ Mother, listen to
Our Willie talking Greek.”

Little Willie—“ I say, pa, what
part of speech is woman?”

Pa—" Woman, my son, is no
part of speech; she’s all of it!”

Mother.—“ Johnny, how is_ it
that you stand so much lower in
your studies in January than in
December?”

Son—"Oh, everything is marked
down after the holidays.”

Father (calling from head of
stairs at 11.39 p. m.)—" Jennie,
don’t you think it’s about time to
go to bed?”

Jennie—“Yes, papa, dear. What
on earth keeps you up so late.”

A cautious look around he stole,
His bags of chink he chunk ;

And many a wicked smile he smole,
And many a wink he wunk,

There was a young Chemistry
bluff,
Who was mixing some confounded
stuff,
Dropped a match in the vial,
And after a while,
They picked up his front teeth and
a cuff,

Nowadays you see advertise-
ments reading thus: “ School
Suits,” yet the average boy thinks
that it doesn’t,

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE 101

The school year is almost over,
and as this is the last edition of the
Crimson AND Waite under the
present board of editors, we wish
to thank the numerous hanges
during the past y: for sending
us their papers. We only hope
that they will be prompt in sending
exchanges at the beginning of the
fall term.

If, the Hotchkiss Record would
have the magazine pure literary
matter, which is very commend-
able on their part, they could at
least in the weekly edition have a
humorous as well as other depart-
ment cuts, the liter
work shows enthusiastic school
spirit.

Your May number, High School
Recorder (Saratoga), is a great
improvement on your other 7
It would be still better, if a few of
the “ Notes” were left out and
more time spent on the literary
department.

All of the departments of the
April Bulletin are complete. “ The
House of Matrimony,” promises a
very interesting conclusion.

Academe, Hamilton, N. Y. We
are not the only ones who recom-
mend your having an exchange
column,

K, H. S. Enterprise shows hard
work on the part of the editors of
each column. The authors of your

Howev

apers.

stories should have no qualms
about subscribing their names.
Normal News is always the
same thrifty paper. But why, in
our exchange column, do you not
criti , ins
knowledging, your exchanges.

ad of merely ac-

The Vermont Academy Life is
a good publication, although in
shape rather unwieldy. The va-
rious departments also show room
for improvement.

Among our most worthy ex-
changes we place The Anvil, not
only because of its literary merit
but also because of the regularity
of its arrival.

The Nautilus we find in many
of inspiration, The
ute departments for art,
ence, and the like, are an unusual
and especially noteworthy feature
in such a publication.

The Hasbrouck Sphinx could be
improved greatly by the addition
of a few cuts and an enlargement
of the literary department.

Room for enlargement is shown
in the various departments of the
eleademe from Colgate Academy.

ways a sour

sepa

Do you not think an exchange
column would prove helpful?

The Argus contains good ma-
terial. The various departments
are well-edited, the cover design
attractive, yet simple, and the cuts

102 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

appropriate. Altogether the publica-
tion is one of which to be proud.

The Focus is an exceptionally
good publication in which the one
flaw seems to be the absence of a
table of contents.

The department of book reviews
is one of the many commendable
features in the Cambridge Review.

The Green and Gold is really a
paper deserving of praise. But do
you not think, editors, that a few
cuts would greatly increase its at-
tractiveness. The Franklin, of
perhaps equal literary merit, is
rendered the more inviting by an
abundance of cuts.

The Cadet from Columbia Mil-
itary Academy and the Palm, our
exchange from Porto Rico, have
made good beginnings and already
show decided improvement. May
your future be as successful as
your bright outlook would now in-
dicate.

War is a horrible thing. We
all know that. But it is worse
than we ever imagined. We have
heard of men being cut down on
every side, of battle fields strewn
with dry bones, of Indian war-
dances on the scalps of victims,
but. oh, far worse, would be the
realization of the blood-curdling
statement, made by one of our
members, to the effect that “Czesar’s
men were obliged, at the same
time, to jump from the boats, take
a stand in the water, and fight with
the enemy, their hands being en-
tangled.”

Miss B—talking to “ Relics”
about the dance—* And I’m going
to have a new dress with an empire
back.”

“ Relics "—reporting the con-
versation to his friend—* She’s
going to have a new dress with a
Gaeity back.

E. W. upon being told in history
class to “shut up, please,” in-
formed the assembled multitude
that he was not blinds but a cur-
tain.

“Oh, well,” said Lillian, “ then
won't you please shir up?”

“Why, papa, this is roast
beef!” exclaimed little Archie, at
dinner, when Mr. Chumpleigh was
present as guest of honor.

“Of course,” said the father,
“What of that?”

“Why, you said this morning
that you were going to bring a
* mutton-head ’ home to dinner this
evening.”

“Deduction is the thing!” ex-
claimed the law student. “ For in-
stance, yonder is a pile of ashes in
our yard. That is evidence that we
have had fires this winter.”

“ And, by the way, John,” broke
in his father, “you might go out
and sift that evidence.”

“Waiter!” called the customer
in a restaurant where an orchestra
was playing.

“Yes, sir.”

“Kindly tell the leader of the
orchestra to play something sad
and low while I dine. I want to
see if it won't have a softening in-
fluence on this steak.”

Senior—‘I want to get some
bird seed.”

Freshman (clerking in store).—
“Don't try to plague me smarty.
Birds grow from eggs, not seeds.”

Our friend Helen evidently does
not believe in woman's rights, for
the other day in Czsar class, she
gave us a translation something
like this: “And the remaining
number of women and children
(for the Romans had come with
all their possessions), crossed the
Rhine.”

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

Miss C.—discussing Washing-
ton’s views of party spirit—* How
long has Mr. Barnes been in power
here?”

Ethel, the history student, sud-
denly waking up.—“ Who, our Mr.
Barnes?”

Adele, delightedly fondling a
pet—Oh, look at the kitten!
First he licks his paw and then he
licks mine.”

Heard in Senior English—“The
boy saw the hen crowing.”

Oh, that we might learn to ex-
press our thoughts! Not long ago
one of our number walked into a
store and said to the smiling clerk,

103

“Td like a yard of turkey red
cloth, only I want it blue.” An-
other upon walking up to a coun-
ter was heard to ask for “ Half a
dozen collar-bones, please.”

‘urse.— Doctor, a sponge is
: possibly you sewed it up
inside the patient.”

Eminent Surgeon.—*Thank you ;
remind me to add $10 to the bill
for material.”

Missionary —“ Do you ever con-
tribute money for the heathen in
foreign lands, sir?”

Millionaire—* Oh, yes. Both
of my daughters married foreign
noblemen.”

Dres:

37 No. Pearl St., Albany, N. Y.

Women’s Outer Garment Shop

Here you will find a complete assortment
of the Season's Latest Creations

in Women's
ss at the most reasonable prices

MANN & ANKER

“Look at that
It's easy enough to be pleasant
When you're looking and feeling
flip,
But the girl worth while
Is the girl with the smile
With a cold sore on her lip.
Ain't that nat’ral, boys?

He.—* What did your father
say, darling, when you told him
my love was like a broad and rush-
ing river?”

She.—“ He ‘Dam _ it!”

—Ex.

said.

Mr. Newell—* Were
after ten last night?”
Gilbert—* No, only after one.”

you out

Intelligent Junior (picking up a
Cesar ).—* Oh, say, Latin is
I wish I had taken it.
(pointing to several
“ Forte dux in
ina row. “TI Is sum jam "—
E us some jam. “ Boni leges
Cwsario ’—bony legs of Caesar,

ys
Look here

Girl (making candy ).—‘I want a
spoon.”

Boy.—* All right! I’m game.”

Ex.

“How do you know that Caesar
had an Irish sweetheart?”

Sophomore (innocently)—
“Why, he went to the Rhine and
proposed to Bridget.”—Ex.

To4 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

Feminine Observer Strictly Pure
Most approved fashion of wear-

ing diamonds. Apply to R. P. Ice Cream
Thorne’s Son,
A gentleman of ‘color ’—Haiss.
Ah! Be coy, girls—Blush like
me.—Clifford.
Did you ever hear Woury’s horse
(hoarse) laugh?
Learn to walk!!!

Served at Our Soda Fountain

All Sodas 5 Cents

there any — objec-

?—Prof. S.
Look out Arthur! It's Leap
Year !!
‘The Bungle Trio—Faney Dances.
Kirby, Fowler, Ostrander. SUNDAES and

Our Winged
Our “Wing
ster.

Tercury—Woods.

Mercury.—Fen- FRAPPES 10 Cts.

Elsie (singing)—*I would T
were a bird.”

Her unappreciative — English BRADT DRUG co.
friend —"* Which = you. was—a

lar howl!” 7 and 8 Central Ave.

University of Wermont

FOUR YEARS’ COURSE LEADING TO DEGREE OF BACHELOR OF SCIENCE IN CHEMISTRY
HE TECHNICAL OPTION includes courses in industrial chemistry,
metallurgy, assaying, and those engineering subjects needed to
equip men fully for responsible positions in manufacturing and technical
chemistry.

THE GENERAL OPTION prepares for science teaching, and for
investigation: and lays a broad foundation for subsequent study of
medicine, etc. ‘Technical chemistry and engineering subj are
replaced by further courses in science or in other equivalent University
studies.

Both groups include the same fundamental courses in chemistry,
related sciences, mathematics, and modern languages.

For illustrated Chemistry Bulletin, and for University Catalogue,
apply to M. W. Andrews, Registrar, or to N. F. Merrill, Dean of
Department, U. V. M., Burlington, Vermont.

Please mention “ The Crimson and White.”

enn)

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE £05

In Latin and Greek

He was quick as a streak;

In dress he was foppish and tony;

The latter was due to his being an
ass,

The former was due to his pony.

Mr. Birchenough—* Have you
ever taken Algebra?”

E. Wiswell (heaving a sigh)—
“T've been exposed s
but I never caught it.

—Adapted.

ul times,

“Pshaw!” she exclaimed impa-
tiently, “I’m sure we'll miss the
first act. We have waited a good
many minutes for that mother of
mine.”

“Hours, I should say
torted, rather crossly. ‘Ours?
Oh, George,” she cried, and laid
her blushing cheek upon his shirt
front.—Ex.

* he re-

Brutus—* How many doughnuts
did you eat, Caesar?”
Caesar—* Et tu Brute!

Miss Vandenburg—‘“ How did
Deme thenes distinguish himself in

Bright pupil—* He stuttered.”

WILLIAM PALMATIER
Prescription

Pharmacist

546 Clinton Ave.
ALBANY, N. Y.

William H. Luck
PICTURE FRAMES

Framed Pictures
67 So, Pearl St., Albany, N. Y.

Rensselaer %,

b, Polytechnic!?%,

nage Institute,
Ne Troy, N.Y.

Looal examinations provided 00.

W. C. KING

Florist

24&26Steuben St., Albany, N. Y.

Greenhouses 1056 Madison Ave,

Jas. D. Walsh

Charles E. Walsh

David H. Walsh

“OUR BUSINESS IS FIFTY YEARS OLD"

JAMES D. WALSH’S SONS

Both Phones

No. 40 SHERIDAN AVENUE

HEATING STEEL CEILINGS VENTILATING
Plumbing Roofing Cornices Skylights
Drainage Slate Copper Metal
Baths ag Galvanized Patent
Closets Gravel Iron Apparatus

Please mention “The Crimson and White.”

106 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

EDWARD D. SCOTT FREDERICK F. RYDER

SCOTT & RYDER

Plumbing, Roofing, Heating & Gas Fitting
Jobbing Promptly Attendedto + Estimates Cheerfully Furnished

443 Madison Avenue, ALBANY, N. Y.
H.R. Phone 1306 W. Main Home Phone 1445

MISS K. M. BERRY

E.P. MILLER

Fine Millinery JEWELRY REPAIRER
SUMMER STYLES 78 DIVISION STREET
420 Madison Avenue
# >, HORTON, | De
'S, POULTRY, VEGE ABLES JOHN J. GRIFFIN

MEAT
CANNED GOODS AND FRESH FISH | Stationer and Bookseller

FRESH EGGS A SPECIALTY 23 Central Avenue
849 Madison Ave., two doors above Albany, N, Y.

corner

F, M. HOSLER ICE CREAM and CANDIES

WHOLESALE AND RETAIL

193 Lark Street, corner Spring Street

Ice Cream Sodas, 5c. Chocolate and Maple Nut Sundaes, 5c.
Fresh Fruit Sundaes in Season

Get Hosler’s Neapolitan Ice Cream for your Dinner

BRANDOW PRINTING
COMPANY

al

16 STATE STREET

Weshall be pleased to supply your class or society with printing

Please mention “The Crimson and White.”

GOLD and SILVER
FOR ALL OCCASIONS

No better Gift can be suggested than a dainty piece of Gold Jewelry or a Silver
Toilet or Manicure Set from the Jewelry Shop of

R. P. THORN & SONS

9 North Pearl Street Albany, N. Y.

ewiinornn FY WM, SILL COMPANY tse

Wholesale

Office: Cor. Grand and Hamilton Streets

Elevator: Broadway, Rensselaer, Mulberry and Church Streets
Our new ELEVATOR and POCKETS enables us to deliver absolutely CLEAN Coa
EITHER TELEPHONE ORDER NOW

JAMES J. FRENAN
Plumbing, Rooting and eating

255 LARK STREET
DEALER IN STOVES AND HEATERS

Jobbing Promptly Attended to. Estimates Cheerfully Furnished
‘Telephone 119 L Main

you will enjoy Kodakery
$1.00 to $9.00.

c DO YOUR DEVELOPING AND PRINTING OF FILMS

. 68 North Pearl Street
Hey def5 Brefhers. onsn roses

]F YOU are looking for a
Spring or Outing Suit
you will find the finest line

\e—_—_—

STEEFEL BROTHERS

78-82 State Street Albany, N. Y.

Please mention “The Crimson and White.”

School and Class Pins.
stones,

23 JAMES STREET,
I Was Delighted
With the Cup of COFFEE I had

for my brealfast this morning.
It was made from the celebrated

Palace Garden Coffee

Imported and
manufactured by

Bacon, Stickney & Co. |

Nos, 650 to 660 Broadway
ALBANY, N. Y.

Special Rate to

H. W. ANTEMANN
Manufacturing Jeweler

High Grade Presentation Badges from Original Designs.
Diamonds and other precious
Fine Repairing a Specialty.

Prompt and Satisfactory Work Only

Fine

Avsany, N.Y.

«JEWELERS...

Importers of Diamonds, Watches, Etc.

20S. Pearl St., ALBANY, N. Y.

EUROPEAN OFFICE:
19 Nieuwe Amstel Stratt
AMSTERDAM, HOLLAND

WILLIAM HANNAY
ONE PRICE

Clothier - and - Hatter

136 South Pearl Street
Cor. Madison Ave ALBANY, N.Y.

WILLIAM C. GOMPH

Dealer in all kinds of

Musical Tstruments and Strings

| 222 WASHINGTON Ave., ALBany, N. Y-

Students

wy

Albany Hrt Union
Photographs— Artistic

48 Norra Peart Srreer

BOTH PHONES

ALBANY, N. Y.

Please mention “The Crimson and White.”