Crimson and White, 1912 June

LADS

q_ JUNE /p

ALBANY NY

press oF
FRANK H. EVORY & CO.
ALBANY. N.Y.
THE CRIMSON AND WHITE 93

A man is known by the candy
HAZELTINE’S he gives—

Give her HUYLER’S

BRADT DRUG CO.
32 Central Ave. Albany, N. Y.
2 STORES

Both Phones 7 and 8 Central Avenue
556 Broadway

+FLOWER SHOP+

Get our Prices on

Tennis Goods, Bathing Suits and Fishing Tackle

We save you from 25 to 50 per cent

ALBANY TRADING COMPANY
22 Green Street

VALENTINE MAGIN | Ropert B. WING & SON

Manufacturer of Harness
Dealer in Supplies of Every Descrip-
Whips, Boots, Trunks, Bags, etc. tion for Public Buildings

Repairing promptly attended to

53 CENTRAL AVENUE 388 BROADWAY

FRANK H. EVORY RAY B, EVORY

FRANK H. EVORY & CO.

GENERAL PRINTERS

Ninety-one St.
Enut of Peat! Steet 36-38 Beaver Street

COLLEGE PRINTERY

Please mention “The Crimson and White”

94 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

A. P. W.
Toilet Paper

A light, soft tissue of the finest quality,
made from absolutely clean, pure stock.
Upon receipt of $1.00 we will send(Express
prepaid), to any point in the United States
One Year’s supply (10,000 sheets), and
Nickel plated fixture as pictured above.
Money refunded if not satisfactory.

A. P. W. PAPER CO., 37 Colonie St, Albany, N. Y.

William McEwan Coal Co.

Best in the world for domestic use

COAL

MAIN OFFICE 26 CLINTON AVENUE

Branch Office and Pockets New Pockets and Elevator
Broadway and Mad. Ave. Broadway and Manor St.
BOTH TELEPHONES 1018
BUY YOUR PIPES AT E have ready to show you
the complete Summer Line
of Ed. V. Price & Co. made-to-
DEARSTYNES order clothes.
S. E. MILLER
82 South Pearl Street 34 and 36 Maiden Lane
ABRAM DE BLAEY CLAPP & LEAKE
Bookseller, Stationer and News-
dealer
Novelty Sh
se STATE ST, cor. GREEN, | THe Book and Novelty Shop
70 North Pearl St.
Joun ButTcHER
ws CAKES and AlbsagyNeV:
FINS SE eT Roam Sr. Fine Stationery and Engraving

Please mention “ The Crimson and White.”

——

The

Crimson and

Vol. VIII

June 1912 No. 5

LITERARY DEPARTMENT

PRIZE ESSAY.

Philip Freneau, a Poet of the
Revolution.

In a quaint little street of New
York, known at that time as
Frankfort street, a baby boy came
to gladden the home of Pierre
Freneau, the last of a long, respec-
table line of Huguenots. This lit-
tle baby was named Philip Fre-
neau. He played and cried as
much as other babies‘ do and little
did his father anticipate that his
son’s name would be particularly
and heroically connected with the
history of America. However, he
lived only a few months in this
town house, for before he was
scarcely able to walk he was car-
ried away to a farm in New Jer-
sey, where his father had built a
magnificent house, calling it Mt.
Pleasant, after the old homestead
at La Rochelle.

During Philip's earlier school-
days he often surprised his teach-
ers with his poetic speeches. He
entered Princeton College and
there distinguished himself by his
poetry among his classmates, one

of whom was James Madison.
After he left college he traveled
from one place to the other, ob-
taining ideas for his poems, as cat-
tle, seeking the best bits of grass,
rove over the whole pasture. His
first poems were rude and simple
but humorous and attractive be-
cause of his peculiar style. He
painted with appreciation the
happy life of village rustics and
their bashful manners; days of
tavern delights, freely enjoyed be-
fore the organizing of Women’s
Temperance Societies and Maine
laws were in sight; the terrible
debtor’s prison; and the amusing
times when Connecticut deacons
would rush out of meeting to ar-
rest a Sunday traveler, who had
not found the desire in his con-
science to go to church that morn-
ing.

Tt was when the colonists were
struggling with the mother coun-
try over their rights that Freneau
began to show his marked ability.
He was a strong advocate, but,
thinking the colonists would not be
able to free themselves, he decided
to go to the West Indies. Here he

96 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

wrote two poems—‘ Beauties of
Santa Cruz,” and “House of
Night.” The latter is thought by
some critics to be his masterpiece.
It is remarkable in its thought, ex-
ecution, originality and strength.
As Freneau’s poems are more of-
ten spoken of than read, I will
tell the story of this poem briefly.

A wierd and somber palace is
situated in a dark, gloomy wood.
Within lies Death, dying at mid-
night; silent doctors surround him
and a pale young man, whose love
Death has cruelly killed, forgiv-
ingly ministers to his needs. Then
Death composes his own epitaph
and dies a most woeful death. He
is solemnly buried in a grave dou-
bly defended from the Devil, who
had been his most trusty friend.
The poem ends by leading us
toward a righteous, earthly life
and an unending mortality.

While in the West Indies, Fre-
neau was anxiously concerned
over his own country’s trials and
he became homesick. He started
homeward, but as a bird, which is
building its airy abode, is at-
tracted toward _ bright-colored
threads, so was Philip lured from
his course by the summery climate
and beauties of the Bermudas.
He there fell in love with the Gov-
ernor’s daughter, of whom he
wrote in his poems as the “ Fair
Amanda.” While lolling his time
away under balmy skies, news
came to him that the colonies had
declared themselves free. He for-
got all else—love, the beauty of
nature, romance, every appeal ex-
cept that of his own country. He
set sail immediately for home.

As the war advanced Freneau
took a passionate interest in its
problems and fought as hard with
his pen as his fellow countrymen
were fighting with their swords.

With his lyrics he thrilled the
hearts of the revolutionists and
urged them on to their cause with
words of loving devotion, but his
lines were hot and rank with sar-
enemy. Thus it was as a satirist
that he won his chief distinction.
He was the satirical gladiator in
behalf of the Revolution, even as
Jonathan Odell was the satirical
gladiator in opposition to it. He
acknowledges his purpose in these
lines:

“Rage gives me wings, and fear-

less prompts me on

-To conquer brutes the world would

blush to own;

No peace, no quarter to such imps

I lend—

Death and perdition on each line

I send.”

In reading over his poems of the
Revolution, in which he takes such
delight in ridiculing the British, I
have a vivid picture of that con-
spicuous, pompous personage,
Thomas Gage, releasing himself
to his full temper and, as the small
boy would say, “the air around is
hot where he stands.” But this
unfortunate man is not fully to
blame for his mad ejaculations,
because after two futile, disastrous
attempts at penetrating into the
interior of the country, he, with
his half-fed army, is “ penned up”
in Boston by a measley, homely,
despicable mob of American peas-
ants, whom he had ust before de-
nounced and doomed with great
pomp and ceremony.

The sea had always a charm for
Philip, so, thinking he had done
all in his power for his country on
land, he decided to give his ser-
vices in capturing British mer-
chantmen. Accordingly, in 1780,
he obtained letters of reprisal from
Continental Congress and _ sailed
over the sea, capturing and sink-

THE CRIMSON AND WHITR 97

ing British ships, He then built
a ship of his own, the “Aurora,”
and again sailed for the West In-
dies. But alas! his good times
were ended. The “Aurora” had
not sailed far before she was cap-
tured by the British, and unhappy
Philip was next seen on board the
prison ship “ Scorpion,” as she lay
in the harbor of New York, near
the Battery shore. Here he be-
came ill and was transferred ic the
hospital ship, the “ Hunter,” which
was. far worse than the other had
been, Even though he endured
terrible tortures, he never forgot
his country, and the keepers of the
prison ship found him the most
energetic prisoner of their charges.
Every moment he employed for
his country with his pen. Here,
within view of New York city by
day, in the resounding ship's hold
throughout the long nights, Fre-
neau thought out his pathetic
poem, “The British Prison Ship,”
in which he describes the horrors
of the ship’s inmates. He wrote
lines, which were set to music, to
arouse the American feeling; lines
which distributed consolation to
the soldiers when they sang or read
them, while marching or sitting
around campfires, as “ Blue Bell”
and other popular songs sting at
the time of the Spanish-American
war aroused enthusiasm; lines
which commemorated the heroic
deeds of our soldiers and ridiculed
every act of the British.

After the war was over, Philip
was again in New York, spending
most of his time in Hanover
square or “Newspaper Row,”
which was his favorite haunt, as
many books, magazines and news-
papers were published there. Here
he amused himself by ridiculing
Gaine and Rivington, both pub-
lishers of papers which changed

their politics to whichever side
was uppermost. They printed
poems about Andre which were
denounced by Freneau, and he
smiled to see them change their
views to suit their rival. One day
as Freneau was passing Gaine’s
bookstore he was attracted by the
volumes displayed in the window,
and entered, There he met a
friend, who called him by name.
Gaine turned around at the sound
of a familiar name and stared at
the enemy he had never seen,

“Ts your name Freneau?” he
asked, and the poet answered:

“Yes, Philip Freneau.”

For just a moment the book-
seller hesitated, then said:

“T want to shake hands with
you; you have given me and my
friend Rivington a lasting reputa-
tion.”

Freneau now retired to private
life at his picturesque country
home, Mount Pleasant. He was
extremely hospitable and always
welcomed his guests most  cor-
dially. He spent his time answer-
ing his numerous correspondents
and occasionally writing an article
for the press. He still retained his
frankness in expressing himself,
but it softened a great deal in his
declining years. In fact, it was
his pen more than his heart which
was so sarcastic in his earlier
years. He was always ready to
pardon those who had injured him
and even his adversaries claimed
him as their ardent, sincere, life-
long friend.

On the 18th of December, 1832.
an old man, sprightly and vigor-
ous under the weight of nearly
eighty-one years, started, as the
sun was setting, to walk from
Monmouth to his country home in
New Jersey—a distance of two
miles, At this home he had passed

98 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

intervals of his life filled with
many experiences, both on land
and sea, He was still a type of
manly old age; his form some-
what stooped, but muscular; his
face thoughtful and care-worn; his
deep grap eyes sunken in their
sockets, but sending out gleams of
fire when aroused; his hair, once
abundant, but now thinned and
whitened by time; giving delight
to everyone whom he met, by re-
lating anecdotes of the American
Revolution. On this starry even-
ing he had started home, but
morning dawned without his ar-
rival there, for his lifeless body
was found in a swampy meadow,
where he, exhausted, had wan-
dered from his path.

This old man was Philip Fre-
neau, the bitterest and most satiri-
cal and yet the kindest of the Rev-
olutionary poets. He had fought
many a fierce fight with his pen,
but those most likely to be remem-
bered are the ones which he fought
during the war. He, to whom had
been given the gift of sending
forth a flame of light and encour-
agement into so many discouraged
hearts, died as an exhausted can-
dle flickers and ceases to gleam.

—Eruet T. Moat, ’12.

DUTCH KITCHENS AND
COOKERY IN OLD
ALBANY.

[The following essay was awarded
first prize by the “Sons of The Revolu-
tion” in a contest open to all secondary
schools of Albany.]

I was very hot, tired and thirsty,
after my long climb up the hill,
and there was yet enough time for
me to rest and cool off, and still
finish my walk before sunset. So,
seeking out a comfortable place
under an old tree, I sat down, very

much relieved to get out of the
hot glare of the sun. As I sat
with my back against the rough
trunk, I could see below me the
spires and buildings of the Capital
City of our fair Empire State. At
it’s foot lay a broad silver ribbon,
the majestic Hudson. How short
a time ago all this bustling city had
been a little Dutch trading post of
log cabins, forts and stockades, I
thought.

But I felt thirsty and was just
about to go in search of some
water, when I heard a faint jangle.
I looked about to discover whence
the sound came, and saw a young
girl coming down the road. She
had a wooden yoke around her
shoulders, from which hung two
bright milk pails. This apparition
caused me to stare somewhat, for
it was indeed unusual for girls of
my time to walk about with two
milk pails hanging from their
necks.

But the oddity did not cease
with the pails, for her costume!
Words cannot express my aston-
ishment at her voluminous skirts.
She was now near enough for me to
see that she was dressed in an an-
cient Dutch manner, many skirts,
quaint white cap, and wooden
shoes. When she perceived me
she stopped, smiled, and set down
her milk pails. When I requested
a drink she gave me some delicious
new milk, warm and creamy, Then
she insisted that I return home
with her, where I might have bet-
ter rest and some food.

Since there was nothing else to
do but follow her, we walked
along at a brisk pace and soon
reached a small town, stoutly for-
tified and built upon a hill. There
was a_ stout blockhouse in its
midst, with loopholes and cannon.
The houses were for the most part

al
BOARD OF EDITORS 1911-1912
|

98 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

intervals of his life filled with
many experiences, both on land
and sea. He was still a type of
manly old age; his form some-
what stooped, but muscular; his
face thoughtful and care-worn; his
deep grap eyes sunken in their
sockets, but sending out gleams of
fire when aroused; his hair, once
abundant, but now thinned and
whitened by time; giving delight
to everyone whom he met, by re-
lating anecdotes of the American
Revolution. On this starry even-
ing he had_ started home, but
morning dawned without his ar-
rival there, for his lifeless body
was found in a swampy meadow,
where he, exhausted, had wan-
dered from his path.

This old man was Philip Fre-
neau, the bitterest and most satiri-
cal and yet the kindest of the Rev-
olutionary poets. He had fought
many a fierce fight with his pen,
but those most likely to be remem-
bered are the ones which he fought
during the war. He, to whom had
been given the gift of sending
forth a flame of light and encour-
agement into so many discouraged
hearts, died as an exhausted can-
dle flickers and ceases to gleam.

—Eruet T. Moat, ’12.

DUTCH KITCHENS AND
COOKERY IN OLD
ALBANY.

(‘The following essay was awarded
first prize by the “Sons of The Revolu-
tion” in a contest open to all secondary
seliools of Albany.]

I was very hot, tired and thirsty,
after my long climb up the hill,
and there was yet enough time for
me to rest and cool off, and still
finish my walk before sunset. So,
seeking out a comfortable place
under an old tree, I sat down, very

much relieved to get out of the
hot glare of the sun, As I sat
with my back against the rough
trunk, I could see below me the
spires and buildings of the Capital
City of our fair Empire State. At
it’s foot lay a broad silver ribbon,
the majestic Hudson. How short
a time ago all this bustling city had
been a little Dutch trading post of
log cabins, forts and stockades, I
thought.

But I felt thirsty and was just
about to go in search of some
water, when I heard a faint jangle.
I looked about to discover whence
the sound came, and saw a young
girl coming down the road. She
had a wooden yoke around her
shoulders, from which hung two
bright milk pails. This apparition
caused me to stare somewhat, for
it was indeed unusual for girls of
my time to walk about with two
milk pails hanging from their
necks,

But the oddity did not cease
with the pails, for her costume!
Words cannot express my aston-
ishment at her voluminous skirts.
She was now near enough for me to
see that she was dressed in an an-
cient Dutch manner, many skirts,
quaint white cap, and wooden
shoes. When she perceived me
she stopped, smiled, and set down
her milk pails. When I requested
a drink she gave me some delicious
new milk, warm and creamy, Then
she insisted that I return home
with her, where I might have bet-
ter rest and some food.

Since there was nothing else to
do but follow her, we walked
along at a brisk pace and soon
hed a small town, stoutly for-
tified and built upon a hill. There
was a_ stout blockhouse in its
midst, with loopholes and cannon.
The houses were for the most part

—
THE CRIMSON

of yellow brick or logs, with steep
gable ends, a large detached addi-
tion at one end, and many chim-
neys and weathercocks.

“Why, what place is this,” I ex-
claimed.

“Fort Orange,”
swered,

I looked around me in wonder.
All the women were dressed as
Gretchen, and the men in a corres-
ponding style. The windows of
the houses were curtained with
immaculate white muslin or linen,
with pots of bright red geraniums
adding a touch of brilliant color.
Through the windows, especially
those of the partly detached por-
tion of the house, I caught
glimpses of bright gleaming fires,
and bustling maids and matrons;
came fragrant and appetizing
odors. From this I concluded that
the kitchen was usually built
somewhat apart from the house
proper.

But Gretchen was turning in at
a large, well-built house, which
gave me an impression of thrift
and prosperity. Needless to say,
the house, garden and outbuild-
ings were immaculate. It stood on
a hillside, and the front door was
reached by a few steps. Of course,
we did not enter at the front door,
but proceeded to a door, extraor-
dinarily high and wide, in the ell
or kitchen part of the house.

However, I did not have time to
study the outside, for the door was
thrown open and I was bidden
very heartily to enter. I stepped,
not into a cold, bare passage, but
into a warm, cozy kitchen, living
room and dining room in one,
the very heart of the house, it
seemed to me. In the three outer
walls of the room there were
broad, low windows, with stiffly
starched white curtains and pots of

Gretchen an-

AND WHITE 99

flowers. The walls and floor were
paved with red bricks, scoured till
they shone. The ceiling was low
and heavily raftered. Hanging
horizontally from the ceiling were
many thin poles, on which hung
dried apples, rings of dried pump-
kin, strings of sausages, ears of
corn, peppers and bunches of dried
herbs, Around the room were
scattered straight-backed chairs,
settles, benches and tables, both
large and small. At one end of the
room was the long, narrow dining
table, and at the other a long dres-
ser, sparkling with shining pewter,
brass, silver and porcelain.

But my eyes were drawn almost
immediately to the fourth side, in
which, directly opposite the en-
trance door, was a large fire-place,
almost completely filling up one
side of the room. The place for
the fire, in itself, was enormous,
with a roaring fire, over which
many kettles were simmering. At
one side there was a swinging
crane hanging over the blaze,
nearby were some other large pots,
giving forth fragrant odors, and
on the coals was a frying pan with
an extremely long handle and
short legs, in which a large veni-
son steak was sizzling. On the
shelf overhead were candlesticks,
flint and steel, tinder boxes and an
hour glass. Around the edge of
the shelf was a short white ruffle
of muslin, called a pawn. On the
wall about this shelf were some
guns, a sword and powder horns
hanging on iron hooks. On the
brick walls were hanging frying-
pans, kettles, toasting forks and
spoons, all with very long handles
and short legs. While at one side
was a long metal cylinder, with one
side open, and standing on legs.

“What can be the use of all
these strange utensils?” I was

100 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

asking myself, when Gretchen
broke into my revery.

“T suppose you would like to
know the use of all these strange
utensils, would you not?” she in-
quired.

“Tndeed I would, but perhaps
you have not the time.”

“No, while we are waiting for
the meal to cook, and father to re-
turn, we will have plenty of time
to talk. But where shall I begin?”

Before I had time to reply she
commenced :

“This crane, which we swing
around on these hinges, is quite
new here. We are one of the first
families to have one, and people
are very curious. We use it chiefly
for boiling the tea kettle. The
frying pans, which we hang on the
walls when they are not in use, all
have legs so that they may be a
short distance above the coals, and
long handles—for, you see, we are
very apt to scorch our faces if we
have to come too near the fire.
This,” and she pointed to a long-
handled object, which had short
legs and an iron rack at one end,
“is a toasting fork. We always
cook all the vegetables in one big
pot—this one weighs nearly thirty
pounds. Sometimes we put the
potatoes in this wire basket and
hang it inside the kettle, with the
other vegetables. Another utensil
which is quite similar to the toast-
ing fork is that waffle iron. You
see that it has legs like all the
rest.

“This,” pointing to the cylin-
drical affair which had aroused my
curiosity, “is our Dutch oven.
This spout is to allow the gravy
to run out. We pull out this iron
rod and skewer the meat on it.
Then we put the open side towards
the fire, and by means of this door
we can tell how the roast is cook-

ing. Another way we have of
cooking meat is to tie it up by a
string to that iron hook up there
in the ceiling, and let it hang thus
in front of the fire. Every few
minutes we twist it around, so that
all parts may roast evenly.

“That door,” pointing to one
that I had not before noticed,
which was in the brick wall of the
chimney, “is the door of the oven.
To heat the oven, we build a fire
in here of dry good, which we
keep for this purpose alone, let it
burn till the wood is entirely con-
sumed, and then, when the oven is
almost red hot, we sweep out the
ashes with the broom, or boender,
which we keep just for this. We
then put in the food to be baked
and close up the oven. We bake
the bread on oak or cabbage
leaves, and fine bread it is. We
have no yeast, but use leaven, a
part of the previous baking. The
oven is so deep we cannot reach
away back, so we use this shovel,
or peel.”

“But tell me of the different
kinds of food you make. How do
you ever get along without
stores?”

“Why, we never even think of
buying from a store. I keep quite
a few chickens, so we have fresh
eggs and poultry all the while. My
sisters take care of three cows, so
we have all the milk, cheese, butter
and cream for just a little work.
On father’s farm we raise all the
vegetables we need for winter.
They are stored in sand or in bar-
rels in the cellar underneath. We
dry all kinds of fruit, and mother
makes, according to the pound per
pound rule, the most delicious con-
serves, marmalades, jams and jel-
lies of anyone around this section
of the country.

“Also, every autumn we go out
THE CRIMSON AND WHITE 101

to the farm for several weeks, to
lay in our stock of winter meats.
While we are there we cure hams
and bacon, make sausages, pack
barrels of salt pork, corned beef,
try out large stone jars full of
lard, make souse, headcheese, rol-
liches—what are rolliches? Why,
they are made of chopped beef,
seasoned with herbs and _ spices,
rolled in tripe and smoked. They
are fine, and perhaps we will have
some for supper. Then, too, we
store away sh, dried, smoked or
spiced. We can always get fresh
game, birds, fish and venison.
When oysters are plentiful we
gather large quantities of them
and bury them in corn meal and
sand, We water them frequently,
and so have fresh oysters when-
ever we want them.

“Of course we eat other things
besides those I have just men-
tioned, though we do eat great
quantities of meat. Even at break-
fast we have three or four kinds
on the table. We are very fond of
all kinds of cakes, cookies, pies, in-
deed any kind of pastry. We have
crullers, olekeoks, doughnuts and
spiced cakes. We have pound
cakes, fruit cakes, layer cakes,
waffles and muffins for our tea
tables. We make the crullers and
other fried cakes only during the
winter, for that is the time when
our lard is freshest. We make
cinnamon cakes and __ puffards.
These we flavor with orange peel,
and cook in lard. We also make
pork cakes, in which we put
chopped pork, spices, almonds, cur-
rants, raisins and flavor them with
brandy. We use a great deal of
cider and brandy in mince pies.
One night,” and she laughed,
“some guests, after they had eaten
one of those pies, became almost
intoxicated.”

Just then she had to leave the
room. So I examined the fire-place
more closely. © The _ fire-place
seemed at least six feet wide, with
seats inside at each end. The
chimney was an immense, black-
throated affair. The fire-place had
no jambs, but had the back flush
with the wall. There was a very
large tile hearth, the tiles being
similar to those blue and white
ones which, depicting Biblical
scenes, surrounded the fire-place.
At the back was a large iron fire-
plate, somewhat, elaborately
carved. About six feet from the
floor was a narrow stone ledge in-
side the chimney. On this rested
the heavy iron pole, the lug-pole,
from which hung the various ket-
tles. The oven was built into the
stonework of the chimney and
seemed to go as far back as the
chimney did. There were iron
fire-dogs and an iron rack for the
fire irons stood in one corner of the
hearth,

Just then Gretchen came up to
me and led me to the table. While
waiting for the rest to sit down I
had plenty of time to examine it
rather closeiy. There was a long
linen cloth laid upon it. At each
place was a wooden trencher, a
knife, spoon, napkin and mug of
beer. There were large jugs of beer
placed about the table, and nearby
on a small table was another sup-
ply of it. Indeed, it seemed to be
the favorite beverage of everyone
at that time. There were dishes of
ifried pork, venison, roast meats,
suppawn, which was corn meal
cooked in milk, various pickles,
preserves, cakes, pies, bread, bis-
cuits, fruit, fish, butter, cheese and
vegetables, all scattered about the
table, and almost completely hiding
the cloth. Such a mixture of in-
digestible food I had never seen.

102 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

‘Then, as everyone had come in, I
sat down,

But, while attempting to sit
down,the bottom seemed to drop,
and I felt myself fall. The next
thing I knew I was lying on the
ground. I picked myself up, to find
that [ was under the same tree,
with the sun about to set. I real-
ized with a start that I had fallen
asleep, and Gretchen, the Dutch
kitchens and delicious food were
but a passing dream, and I still
had a long distance to go.

Harrier R, Teprorp, ’

12.

“THE STREAKED NEGA-
TIVE.”

At last! the films were developed
and Jose began to make prepara-
tions for printing, but he yawned
two or three times as he busied him-
self about the room, and finally he
sat down to rest and read awhile.

Joe's attention was arrested
as he picked up the evening paper
and saw on the first page a picture
of a tiny girl. He looked at it for
a little while and then glanced at
the headline: * Child Kidnapped!”
and underneath the picture he read:
“ Marjorie Hunter, only daughter
of the wealthy artist, Arthur Ran-
dal Hunter, who disappeared sud-
denly on December fourth, nine-
teen hundred eleven.” Further
down the page Jose found
another and more detailed account
of the child’s sudden disappearance
with an accompanying description
of the little girl’s wearing apparel
when last seen.

Jose looked at the beautiful pic-
ture of the little girl and the tears
came to his eyes as he noted how
much the child resembled Mary, his
baby sister, whom he had not seen
in two years.

‘The picture was indeed a won-

derful one of a child about four
year old, hugging a huge black
teddy hear

“Who could take such a child
away from its home? Poor little
kid!" was Jose’s thought, as he
picked up his materials again for
printing.

“This is luck!” exclaimed Jose,
as he put the first picture in the
water. Just the one I have tried to
get for so long and it is so clear!”

The next did not prove so good
as it was somewhat blurred and
the third one was streaked.

“One side looks fairly good’”
said Jose to himselg, “but I don’t
remember having tawen one like
this.”

Jose paid little attention to this
one, but as he drew it from the
printing fluid he saw that one side
was streaked and white, so he
washed it off and then went over
to the light.

All that he could see was a clump
of bushes and a white object. He
looked closer and saw that it was a
child lying on the ground holding
something in her arms.

Jose Pillar, for the first time in
his life, rushed upstairs for his
magnifying glass. Yes! it was a
child, and she seemed to be holding
what looked to Jose, like teddy
bear — but where and how came he
with this picture—he had not seen
anyone during the morning in the
woods—and then the child—it
must be— yes, the Hunter’s home
was only a mile from those woods,
he had passed by the gates that
morning — what if she was dead —
and — but; thus Jose’s thoughts ran
on until he nearly shouted with ex-
citement.

Late that night Jose Pillar stood
under the electric light gazing at
an enlargement of the “streaked
negative.” There was no doubt in

—
THE CRIMSON AND WHITE 103

his mind now, this was a picture of
the kidnapped child, which he had
taken without knowing it, during
his morning in the woods.

Jose put on his hat and coat, after
wrapping up the enlarged picture
and the film, and started on his
way to the detective’ bureau.

It was nearly four o'clock the
next morning when a silent, but ex-
cited group of men stood in the
spacious hallway of the Hunter
home, waiting for the doctor’s ver-
dict.

* * * * * *

After two long weeks the baby
girl recovered. She was too small
to tell anything that would furnish
a clew. She talked a great deal
about “the pretty girl” and often
asked her mother to find her. No
one knew what the child meant.
However, one morning the post-
man handed Mrs. Hunter a very
grimy envelope addressed to:
“leetle Margie hunter.” Mrs Hun-
ter opened the envelope and read
as follows:

“leetle Margie i crie much when
i hear you are all rite. i tink you
dead. you fall and your head
bleed. i run. Sam he hit me hard.
i wood not steel you but he say go.
i like you. i hate these. i am kil
if they see i rite you. do not tel.
Bo-bo.”

Detectives soon located the little
band of gypsies. Sam was found
to be an old offender. Bo-bo found
a good home with the Hunters.

“ Marion,” ’13.

MIDNIGHT ON A YACHT.

Mrs. Drew was chaperoning
the party of young people and, as
was their custom, this jolly crowd
were enjoying themselves im-
mensely. This evening had been
an especially pleasant one, they
had had a dance and now the girls

betook themselves to their rooms
and talked things over, as girls al-
ways do.

During the past hour the ocean
had become disturbed and from
time to time sudden severe lurches
sent the occupants of the different
rooms flying across the floor. The
girls took it as a joke until an es-
pecially severe one sent poor Helen
flying through her open door, out
into the saloon, followed by her
trunk. Every one laughed at her
until she was forced to retreat.

It was Mrs. Drew’s custom, as
chaperone, to come to each state-
room before retiring, to see that
her charges were comfortable and
safe for the night. To-night, as
usual, she came. The sea was roar-
ing and viciously slapping the sides
of the ship, while the girls could
hear the waves dash over the deck.

May asked Mrs. Drew if there
was any danger, and she answered,
that the crew did not like the rest-
less sea and were really quite wor-
ried, but if any real danger pre-
sented itself she would call them.

Naturally every one was much
too upset to think of sleep, and
besides, sleep was simply out of
the question in such a rocking and
rolling combined with the terrible
noises of all the elements.

About an hour had passed when
a fearful, splintering crash was
heard above the din and the ship
gave a frightful lurch to one side.
Then, that awful stillness, which
always follows, ensued, the loud
voice of Captain Smith was heard,
calling for the force pumps, and
Mr. Drew, quickly leaving his
room, called the boys.

The excitement on; shipboard
was so great that for a minute the
noise of the storm was not heard
until another crash and lurch sent
them to the other side.

104 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

At last Mrs. Drew appeared.
“Come, Girls,” she said, and her
face was white as marble. “T see
you are already to come to the
saloon, This is awful!”

“Oh! what has happened? Are
we lost?” cried Florence, as the
girls appeared one by one.

At this moment Sydney came
rushing in with Bill Reid at his
heels.

“No,” he cried, hearing the
question, “but you girls must
help.” ‘* Come.” He led the way
to where the crew were hard at
work with the pumps.

For a second a look of relief
passed over their faces at sight of
the girls.

“You girls must work the
pumps,” said Karl, “while we
fellows help patch up this leak.”

Marion caught a glimpse of
the black water pouring in the
rent and her heart sank. “We
shall never be able to pump it out
as fast as it comes in,” was her
thought, yet she went to work with
a will while sound of hammer
mingled with the noise of the sea.

Ruth and Marion had not re-
moved their evening }frocks and
their dainty sating pumps were
forgotten. Yet, lost in the onrush
of water. Their dresses resembled
limp rags, so wet had they become
with spray and the water which
covered the floor. The fellows,
likewise, were in evening dress,
and the picture they all presented
was funny, as well as tragic.

By degrees the good work pro-
gressed, and at length the flow of
water was entirely cut off. “It
won’t stand much,” remarked the
mate, but while all were so busy
no one had noticed that the worst
of the storm had passed. The sea
still rolled and tossed, but not so
angrily as before.

While they had been so busy
they also had not missed May, and
now they looked at one another for
some explanation. No one had any
to offer, so tWeir troubles began
again.

Mrs. Drew said that she would
aid in the search and for the girls
to hurry and discard their wet ap-
parel.

At first they would not listen,
but when the boys said they would
begin the search, they agreed.

Helen was the first to discover
it. Yes, part of her things were
gone—her purse and her jewelry!
Immediately she told Florence,
and to their amazement, hers was
also gone. By degrees each person
found himself similarly situated.

Naturally, May and then the
robbery were thought of, and a
sad conclusion was drawn.

“We must tell Mrs. Drew,” said
Vlorence, and acting upon this sug-
gestion, they found her, but it was
not news, for she was in the same
predicament.

May was nowhere to be found.
Who was the thief and where was
he? Surely he was on the boat, for
where else could he be? It was
useless to think of his escaping in
the storm, or even trying to. No,
the idea of its being any of the
crew was out of the question. They
had all been at work and besides
how should they know where to
find the things?

“Oh, it must be May,” moaned
Charlotte. How perfectly impos-
sible it seems, still everything
points against her. Where is she?
How has she escaped with the
things, and why has she done it?
She is such a lovely girl, it’s hard
to believe it.”

“Well’” said George, “I am go-
ing to search this place again for

=a
oe

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE 105

she must be here. That’s all there
is about it.”

“So am I,” said Karl and Bill,
and again the search was begun.

“Are you sure she’s not in one
of your rooms, girls?” asked
Sydney,

“Why, we didn’t see her. She
would have spoken or come out,”
said Alice. ‘No, I am sure she
isn’t. Oh, dear, who ever would
have believed it of May? Girls,
whatever you say I am sure May
did not do it.”

“Better look and make sure,
girls,” advised Mr. Drew, who had
just entered the saloon.

“Yes, we will come, Ruth.” She
and Helen started and Alice quickly
followed them,

A search of the rooms revealed
nothing and the girls returned, one
by one, still more disheartened.
What a sad ending of their jolly
party!

Suddenly a scream of joy was
jheard and Alice rushed into the
saloon, all excitement. She's
found, she’s found, Come quickly.”

Mrs. Drew and the girls fol-
lowed Alice. There on the floor,
behind a dislodged steamer trunk,
was May.

“Get water. She has fainted.
Quickly, please.”

Clutched tightly in her hand was
the bundle of missing articles

’Twas a sorry sight she pre-
sented in her crumpled dancing
frock and much soiled slippers.

At length she was restored to
consciousness and opened her eyes
in surprise to see all ker friends
about her, Then glancing at their
faces, she did not understand the
cold expression which met her
eyes. Yes, even Alice, looked puz-
zled and hurt.

“What is the matter, girls, and
where have I been, where were

you? Oh, for goodness sake stop
staring at me like that.” Then she
closed her eyes, but soon opened
them again,

“Please explain yourself,” said
Marion, “tell us if you can, what
you intend to do with all our be-
longings.” Marion’s voice sounded
strange and cold.

An expression of understanding
came over May’s face, ‘“iOh, I
see, you think I meant to steal
your things, No, after that awful
crash came and I could pick my-
self up, I guess it must have hurt
my head.” For the first time they
noticed the long gash on her fore-
head. “ Well, after that I couldn't
find you and I looked all over,
finally, I decided you had all been
drowned or escaped. I felt I was
alone. I got these things together
so I could save them, if I should
be saved, and then something must
have hit me, for it’s all I can re-
member ’till I saw all you people
standing here staring at me.”

By this time the boys had ar-
rived, and George said, “‘ Yes, May,
probably that trunk went. sailing
across the floor and hit you.”

“Oh, we're all so sorry, we mis-
judged you,” cried the girls, “ We
all thought you guilty, but Alice,
she stuck up for you.”

May was taken to her room amid
the rable and excitement and was
really the heroine after all,

It was daylight, and Captain
Smith said that he had just inter-
viewed the Captain of the Luci-
tania, which was to land in New
York at noon, and that the party
had best return to New York on
that steamer as the kostomenos, or
the houseboat, was not quite safe
after the night accident,

Everything ended well after all,
and the party broke up none the
worse for the experience, and

106 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

ready to venture again on the
ocean,

It was a most exciting midnight
for all, and land was a very wel-
come sight, you may believe.

Axice F. Grirrin, ’13.

THE CLASS OF 1912.

I had been planning for several
years to look up the members of
our class and invite them to my
thome for a good old-time reunion.
I realized that the task would be
a hard one, but still the pleasure
which it would eventually give
was well worth it. To be sure, I
had lost track of several members,
but I decided to do my best to find
them. I set out to look for the
president.

Normal College was holding its
commencement, and on the plat-
form was a big, portly man who
was speaking with great force.
They told me he was Prof. Bacon,
the new teacher of “ The Study of
Thought.” I recognized our
honored President.

Wellesley College had a new
“gym” teacher. She was a hand-
some young woman, with a great,
heavy braid of golden hair. Miss
Goldring, the girls called her, and
they told me she was one of the
most popular teachers they had
ever known.

I was walking through the city
of New York, when I happened
upon “The Little Church Around
the Corner.” Standing before the
altar, with a pretty, dark-haired
girl, was a man whom I recog-
nized as our class treasurer—
Washington Irving Goewey.

A friend of mine was telling me
of a new school out on Delaware
avenue, which was conducted by
three very excellent young women.
Their names were Misses Becker,

Brate and Klapp. I visited them
and gave them the invitations.

One morning my door bell rang
and I went out to meet a big man
with a swarthy complexion. He
introduced himself as C. A. Hane,
M. D.—D.D. He was just home
from China on leave of absence.
He came to the reunion.

Standing on the Capitol steps,
fluently urging the cause of Wo-
man’s Suffrage, were two young
women. I recognized them as
the Misses Tedford and Fredricks.

There was a new preacher in
town. He was delivering a course
of lectures on “The Sublimeness
of the Infinite Sublime.” His
name was Jasper Myers.

I saw a crowd of tiny tots play-
ing in the park; with them was a
young woman. She was a Kinder-
garten teacher. They told me her
name was Moat.

Miss Caroline Lansing, I
learned, was! home from Hawaii
on a visit. She was a medical
missionary and was devoting the
best part of her life to teaching
the heathen,

“Bobby Minkler’s gone to sea,

He was the captain of the

‘Marie.’
He'll come back again to we.
Pretty Bobby Minkler.”

Miss Helen Merchant was de-
livering a course of lectures on
“How to be Happy though Mar-
ried.”

T saw a huge billboard; on it
was a sign announcing the open-
ing of the Wentworth-Gauger
Stock Company. The opening at-
traction was to be “ Vanity Fair,”
with Mr. Harold Wentworth and
Miss Carrie Gauger in the title-
roles.

Our reunion was a very pleas-
ant one and we agreed to have an-
other in a few years, Bert,

ay
My
THE CRIMSON AND WHITE 107

THE
CRIMSON and WHITE

Vol, VIII Aupany, N. ¥. Juni.r912, No. 5

Published Every Two Months during the School
Year by the Students of the N. H. S.

‘TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION

‘One year (5 copies) Dayable in advance, 30.60
Single copies, - soe By

BOARD OF EDITORS
Epiror-In-CHier
KATHARINE GOLDRING, "12
Eprtn WALLACE, “Il, Assistent Editor

< | + School Editor
Alumni Editor

Loretta Reilley, ‘13 - Exchange Editor

W. Irving Goewey, Jr."12 = { Basiness
Edward Brandow, ‘13: + (Managers
Newton Bacon, "12 . : {Gévertiston
John Butler, "14 = Agents

The publication of this issue of
Tur Crimson AND Wuire ends
the connection of many of the mem-
bers of the present Board of Editors
with the school paper. Throughout
the year we have striven to do our
best for the paper and to make it
worthy of the support of the stu-
dents. How well we have suc-
ceeded in our purpose we leave for
the students to decide and hope
that their criticism will not be too
severe,

Co-operation means success. A
school paper cannot be successful
without the support of the school,
no matter how much time and la-
bor the editorial staff expends on
it. We fully appreciate the aid
which we have received from the
students, but find that it is the
same students each time who have

furnished this aid. Is that quite
fair? The school paper is the
voice of the school. If you be-
longed to a singing class, would
you sit silent while the others
sang? Don’t you think the paper
worthy of your aid? If so, why
not try to make it worthy? Get
into the game—don’t be a mere
spectator.‘ If you are one of those
who have not helped the paper, do
better next year, so that you need
not be ashamed to answer when
asked, “What have you done for
Tue Crimson AND Wuitr?”

ALUMNI NOTES.

Russell Meeny has recently se-
cured a very fine position with the
North Line Navigation Company
in New York.

John Donahue, of the Class
1910, is among the graduates at
the Albany Law School this year.

Misses Geraldine Murray,
Pearl Shafer and Edith Herber,
Class 1911, were participants in
the Japanese play given recently in
the college auditorium.

John Delaney, 1911, was one of
the ushers at the graduating exer-
cises of the Albany Law School
this year.

Miss Florence Van Vranken,
Class 1911, on account of ill
health, has given up teaching and
is now at home.

Adele Le Compte, of the Class
of 1908, will this June be gradu-
ated from the college department
of this institution.

Charles Grounds, of the Class
of 1910, has a position with an
orange packing firm in Los
Angeles.

SCHOOL NOTES.
The Crimson and White musi-
cale was a success and well at-
tended, but not very well repre-

108

sented by the High School stu-
dents.

The following people have left
school: Dorothy Gioscia, Clark
Phiffer, William Kane, Henry
Kohn, Irving Hare, Olive Beau-
pre and Edith Picken.

A Glee Club, under the direc-
tion of Prof. Belding, has been or-
ganized for the girls of the High
School. The meetings have been
very beneficial and the school
should be proud of some of their
talent. On May 24 the members
enjoyed an outing,

The Junior Class have elected
their officers for the following
year.

President—Edward Brandow.

Vice-President—Marion Packer.

Secretary—Ruth Jeffrey.

Treasurer—Guy Ferguson.

The standings of the Class of
1912 have been announced. Kath-
arine Goldring is valedictorian
and Caroline Lansing is salutato-
rian. The honor students are:
Caroline Gauger, Harriet R. Ted-
ford and Ethel Thomson Moat.

On May 25 the school went to
Kingston Point on the day boat.
Ask Miss Cushing, Miss Clement
and Prof. Sayles if we had a good
time,

The Board of Editors of THe
Crmmson AND Wuite have ap-
pointed the following students to
assist next year:

Assistant Editor — Eleanor
Dunn.

Literary Editor—Marjorie Bur-
gess.

School
Dowell.

Assistant Advertising Agent—
Joseph McEntee.

Assistant Business Manager—
Chester Long.

The annual prize speaking con-
test for the Robert C. Pruyn

Editor—Marion Mc-

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

medal was held in the college audi-
torium June 6. The girl’s medal
was awarded to Miss Alice Grif-
fen and the boy’s medal to Rich-
ard Kirk,

The Senior Class concluded
their festivities with their dance,
which was held in the college gym-
nasium on Saturday evening, June
22, O’Neil’s orchestra, which
was screened by palms and flower-
ing plants, gave selections from
the operas during the reception,
after which they played the music
for the dance.

The committee was: Helen H.
Merchant, Ethel T. Moat, W. Irv-
ing Goewey, Jr., H. Gibson Went-
worth,

The patronesses were: Mrs, A.
H. Bacon, Mrs. C. H. Merchant,
Mrs. A. Moat, Mrs. T. R. Ward,
Mrs, C. E. Lansing, Mrs. A, Fred-
erick, Mrs. M. A, O’Connor.

SOCIETY NOTES.
Zeta Sigma.

The meetings of Zeta Sigma
have been interesting and helpful.
The debates have been very well
prepared and given with much en-
thusiasm, Great improvement has
been shown in giving the quota-
tions. A special feature is the dis-
cussion of current topics. The
piano solos and recitations have
been very much enjoyed.

At the last meeting of Zeta
Sigma elections were held for the
following year.

President—Ruth Jeffry.

Vice-President — Marion
Dowell.

Recording Secretary — Marian
Packer.

Mc-
THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

Corresponding
Helen Page.

Treasurer—Marjorie Burgess.

Critic—Marian Baker.

Senior Editor—Florence Gale.

Mistress of Ceremonies—Eloise
Lansing.

Marshall—Jennie Dodds.

Pianist—Frances Vosburgh.

Secretary —

Quintilian.

Yes, indeed! Quin is surely here
to stay. Normal will soon hear
more of “the oldest society in the
school” than she has during the
past few years. We are getting
busy.

Our aim has been to make the
meetings not merely attractive and
full of interest, but of actual bene-
fit. We want them to be instruc-
tive, but not only that, we want
them, first of all, to furnish an
ideal opportunity for the develop-
ment of whatever talent we may
have—remembering that every
girl has at least one talent in her
possession, of which it is her duty
to make the most. Our members
have all been working enthusias-
tically to that end, and, consider-
ing our entire inexperience, we
feel well satisfied with the result.
Our hopes for next year are high
and we intend to make old Normal
proud of us.

Our programs of late have con-
sisted of piano solos, essays on
various subjects, regular papers on
current events, the Quin paper,
which has been very amusing, and
short stories. A debate, “Re-
solved, that Novel Reading is In-
jurious to Young People,” was
won by the negative.

At a recent meeting plans were
discussed for an outing, to be held

shortly after commencement. The
following officers were also
elected :

109

President—Marion Hanley.

Vice-President — Elmetta Van
Deloo.

Secretary—Marguerite Clark.

Treasurer—Dorothy Hines.

Marshal—Pauline Dinkel.

Mistress of Ceremonies—Mar-
garet Shirtz.

Senior Editor—Mildred Weeks.

Junior Editor—Eleanor Dunn.

Theta Nu.

The meetings of Theta Nu have
continued without interruption
during the past two months. The
literary work has kept up its high
merit, with debates, declamations
and readings. This has been en-
livened by two or three social
events, such as the excursion to
New Baltimore and the trip to
Burden’s Lake.

The excursion to New Balti-
more was enjoyed by all, being on
the same order as the year pre-
vious. Lunch was taken, and a
trip to the falls made, where an at-
tack was made on the lunch. The
members and their friends spent
the day most enjoyably and re-
turned at 9.30.

The trip to Burden’s Lake was
very successful and the members
were rewarded by a general good
time, but speaking of cold weather,
well—.

At the last meeting of the so-
ciety officers were elected for next
year.

President—Guy Ferguson.

Vice-President—Hamilton Adams

Secretary—Edwin Belknap.

Treasurer—Andrew Dodds

Critic— Raymond Fite.

Sergeant-at-Arms — Alvin Neef
110 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

Adelphoi.

The past year has been one of
the most successful in the history
of Adelphoi. Twelve new mem-
bers have been received, and at
present the membership is larger
than it has been in a number of
years. The spirit and loyalty of
the members has been excellent.

During the past quarter the
meetings have been especially well
attended and the literary programs
very interesting and well pre-
paired,

Mr. Hannay has become a mem-
ber of the fraternity,

After much discussion it has
been decided that instead of the
annual moonlight the Adelphoi
will enjoy an all-day excursion
on Saturday, June 15th, to Catskill
and thence to Otis Summit.

At the last election the following
officers were elected :

President—Newton_ Bacon.

Vice-President—Richard Kirk.

Secretary —Edward C. Bran-
dow.

Treasurer—Chester Long.

Sergeant-at-Arms — Erwin
Hanna,

Chaplin—Leighton Lodge.

Master of Ceremonies—Nelson
Covey.

The Annotator.

The Voice (Colby Academy) is
a fair paper, possessing a neat
cover design, very good essays and
fine athletic notes. The title of
Senior Items is hardly justified by
the contents of the column thus
marred, The exchange notes are
too brief.

The Techtonian (Buffalo, N.
Yai

The interest aroused by reading
the articles on Products of the
Shop and similar subjects in the
Industrial Number is rivaled only

by the trouble in finding these ar-
ticles. The order of the paper is
unique. Without a table of con-
tents, or system, it is left to the
reader to take things as they come.

The placing of the address first,
we believe, was intentional. “The
Workings of Fate” fell between
an article on Optical Instruments
and one on Industry, Copious
school notes follow, then excellent
editorials and athletic notes and a
very brief exchange column, and
finally “The Pink Slipper,” vener-
able in plot, but containing a good
moral, and printed between a page

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE pees

of advertisements. The humor of
the cartoons and the age of the
jokes are lost among the other ad-
vertisements.

Tattler! Tattler! For the sake
of humorists living and dead don’t
attempt another foolish number.
You were striving for uniqueness
and the result was twelve pages of
literature? I dare not call it so—
of trash, which must have caused
Samuel Johnson to turn in his
grave. This is not said for a wit-
ticism. It seems that a school pa-
per should improve the writing
ability of the students, not crush it
by such an attempt at humor, as
evidenced both in this issue and in
“Advice to Troubled Mammas”
Freshman number) and “ House-
hold Helps” Girls’ number). To
our minds, no daffydills can com-
pare with them. As advice, we
quote your own words: “Let us
have humor, not trash.”

The cut of the Freshman num-
ber was clever, original and hu-
morous,

The exchange notes, ‘now, have
enough spice to be interesting.

The Stylus is a paper that does
not vary much. It has reached a
good standard as far as arrange-
ment and neatness are concerned
and neither improves nor deterior-
ates. “Home, Sweet Home” and
“An Easter Hymn” are not very
original in ideas; the latter, how-
ever, is made beautiful by the
choice of words.

The Shucis, though not excep-
tional, ranks very well as a bright,
newsy paper. The cover is attrac-
tive, the society notes lengthy and
the exchanges, as we have said be-
fore, very good.

The News for April is an exam-
ple of poor business management.

After presenting six successful is-
sues of magazine proportions, it
has degenerated into one of eigh-
teen pages, printed on the poorest
kind of paper, merely to add to
the giory of an annual which is to

follow. It would be better policy
to distribute the money more
evenly.

The cover design of the Cue
‘(Easter number) is very attrac-
tive. The editorials have a refresh-
ing breath of spontaneity—a rare
quality. If the editor tore
“ gory locks” while writing them
there is no evidence of it in the
editorial column, “The Last Sur-
vivor” is not particularly good.
The author has copied the style of
Jack London and the material is
second-hand. The alumni depart-
ment is well supported and the ex-
change department is conducted in
a very creditable manner.

his

The Comet is an exceedingly
small paper, but its general ap-
pearance is more commendable
than much larger publications. The
editorials are the best feature of
the paper and the Junior number
the best issue of the year. It is a
pity that you must moan, in the
way you do, for “stories, essays or
anything.”

The school notes are the chief
feature of the Chronicle. There
is very little literary material. The
one story, “ Solange’s Way,” is en-
tirely too melodramatic for a
school publication. “The Last
Appearance of the Chronicle
Board” is quite amusing.

The exchange column, contain-
ing only a list of exchange, and a
list of “As Others See Us,” is
unreadable and dull.

The Black and Gold is a new
and welcome exchange, and a very
fair school publication. The school
112

note editor certainly possesses the
ability to develop a simple fact
into an interesting paragraph. For
this reason the interest in this de-
partment is increased,

The Commencement number of
the M.H. Aerolith is unquestion-
ably the best number of the year.
With the simple cover and the
quality of paper, the Aerolith pre-
sents a very good appearance. The
article on English Authors in their
infirmities shows a wide knowl-
edge of the lives of English au-
thors. The subject of the valedic-
tory, as far as I, through my lim-
ited knowledge of German can as-
certain, is a very good one.

The April number of the
Academe contains a number of
short stories, most of which are
very childish. “The Winged
Mouse” is a very pretty story, the
vocabulary is well selected. The
alumni column is a very good fea-
ture of the paper; the college notes
add much interest to it. We do
not think your exchange editor is
justified in saying that we devoted
the greater part of our February
number to jokes, when we had
fourteen pages of stories alone,
five of other material, and only five
of jokes. We would ask that you
exchange more faithfully with us.
This is the first number we have
received this year.

We acknowledge the receipt of
the following exchanges since our
last issue. We are very grateful
to those who have exchanged
faithfully with us during the past
year:

For  February—The
Black and Gold.

Sentinel,

For March—The Adelphian, H.
S. Recorder, the Spectator, the

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

Sentinel, the Chief, the Gleanor,
Huisacheh, Voice.

For April—Comus, A. H.
Whirlwind, Techtonian, Vexillum,
the Stylus, the Criterion, the Echo,
the Oracle, the Aerolith, the
Academe (Albany), the Opinion,
the News, the Chronicle, the Ar-
gus, Sentinel, H. S. Review, the
Bulletin, the Cue, the Voice.

For May—Comus, Techtonian,
Vexillum, the Oracle, Shucis,
Toka, M. H. Aerolith, H. S. Echo,

For June—The Triangle.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate,
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

—Longfellow.

Wandering over a field one day
a man came across a large stone
inscribed: “Turn me over.”

After much difficulty he suc-
ceeded in turning it over and
found on the under side of the
stone the words: “ Now turn me
back again, so that I can catch
some other idiot.’

You cannot dream yourself into
a character; you must hammer
and forge yourself one—Fronde.

A true American sentiment
recognizes the dignity of labor
and the fact that honor lies in
honest toil—Cleveland.

Every person has two educa-
tions—one which he receives
from others, and one, more im-
portant, which he gives himself.

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

113

“Book Reviews.

“Gerunds and Gerundives”—
Marion Baker. An _ exhaustive
treatise on how to distinguish be-
tween these parts of speech, con-
taining many of the author’s own
experiences. This is recommended
to future Cicero students.

“Latin Translajing as a Fine
Art ”—Edith Wallace. This book,
written in the characteristic style
of the authoress, contains many
eulogies to Latin poets and writ-
ers and lamentations over the in-
difference with which Cicero’s
orations are received.

“Advantages of a Businesss Ca-
reer ”"—Miss Corabel Bissel. Con-
taining many forcible arguments
as to why a business career should
be adopted by students.

“How to Manage a Paper”—
the outgoing editors, This pamph-
let contains valuable information
from each of the editors. “How
to Write Editorials,” K. Goldring;
“How to Solicit Ads,” Mr. Bacon;
“How to Gain Information from
the Freshmen,” E. Moat; “ How

to Get Stories and Sell Tickets,”
C. Lansing.

“Getting Rid of Summer
Beaux ”—Katherine Pollock. This
book is recommended to summer
girls, It contains the thrilling in-
cident of how Miss Pollock got rid
of her old beaux by causing them
to be thrown into the lake near her
summer home. When _ they
emerged their ardor was so cooled
that they left her in peace.

“The English Language Spo-
ken Correctly”—H. R. Tedford.
As every one knows, Miss Tedford
is capable of treating this subject.
She is to be commended on her
originality in maintaining that it
is not inconsistent to make use of
such phrases as “I nearly split,”
and “TI sure did,” etc., etc.

“The Sandwiches that Mother
Makes.”—Choice recipes for pic-
nics, compiled by M. H. Packer
and Ruth Jeffrey to satisfy the de-
mand after the picnic. It was
through these recipes and others
that the fame of the Junior Class
was established. No one can say
that they are not the best enter-
tainers in the school.

114 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

Other important new books are:

“How to Dance the Turkey
Trot ’—Harriet Tedford.

“Parliamentary Rules for Class
Meetings "—S. N. Bacon.

“The Care of Cats”—Ethel
Moat.

“The Study of History ”°—Car-
oline Lansing,

For Sale—A smile that won't
come off. Selling price $9.98,
worth $10.00.—J. Butler.

Wanted—A position as tutor in
Virgil. My specialty is detecting
the Genitive——Newton Bacon.

Wanted—A position in a circus,
side show, or dime museum.
Warranted to be a big attraction.
—W. J. Goewey.

Have you noticed the Seniors’
haste to get to Vergil class
lately?

FavoritE Pastimes oF OuR
Facuuty.

“Tf we offend—sh!”"

Mr. Sayles—Signing a certain
Junior’s exctises.

Miss Shafer—Raising frogs.

Miss Loeb—Acting as a medium
of exchange for the arguments of
Alberta O’Connor and Corabel
Bissel in German IIT class.

Miss Horne and Miss Johnson—
Teaching Latin students to stop
translating “res” as “ things.”

Miss Cushing—Satisfying the
Sophomores thirst(??) for orig-
inals.

Miss Clement—Helping people
out of difficulties and smiling.

CORRESPONDENCE COLUMN.
Questions of interest to students
promptly answered.

Freshman—No, green is not ap-
propriate for Commencement Day,

Alberta—Yes, eighlteen is too
young. We should advise your
waiting a few years.

H. G. Wentworth—On such
short notice we are unable to give
you a list of books to read. How-
ever, you might try “ Vanity Fair.”

R. Kirk—The quotation you ask
for is: “If she be not fair for me,
what care I how fair she be?”

W. I. Goewey—We can suggest
no new method, The old-fashioned
way of going down on one’s knees
suits most girls. However, you
might vary it by first strolling
about the room a Ja Hamlet.

Robbie met a neighbor who was
smoking some fine, fragrant to-
bacco, sent by his son in America.
He took out his pipe ostenta-
tiously,

“Ha’ you a match, Sandie?” he
queried.

The match was forthcoming, but
nothing more,

“T do believe,” said Robbie, “I
ha’ lefe me tubacco home.”

“Then,” said Sandie, after a
silence, “‘ye micht as well gie me
back me match.”

Parson—“Brudder Johnson, I
hears as you took an’ stole a tuk-
key. You hadn’t oter done dat,
for de debil sent that tukkey jes’ to
temp’ you.”

Johnson—* Well, den, Pahson,
de debil done lost his tukkey.”

A young curate was preaching
at great length in a country
church, Amid yawns and stifled

THE CRIMSON AND,,WHITE 115

groans the congregation gradually
faded away, one by one. Finally
only the sexton was left, but the
preacher still preached on, being
only at his “thirdly,” and of a
stubborn disposition.

The sexton at last could stand it
no longer, and, going softly up to
the desk he whispered, “ When
ye’re finished turn out the lights,
lock the door and put the key un-
der the mat.”

The lady of the house was show-
ing her new maid through the up-
stairs apartment, when finally they
came to the back staircase.

“Mary,” said she, stepping out
on the landing, “whenever you
wish to pass down to the back yard
go down this way.”

Just then the speaker slipped
and was precipitated with great
clattering to the bottom.

“Are you hurt, ma’am?” cried
the affrighted maid, staring down
from above.

“No, it’s nothing,” came the re-
ply, as the dishevelled mistress rose
to her feet, in proof.

“Then you've got it down
finely—but the job’s too strenuous
for me.”

The Frenchman finds it difficult
to learn the English language, so
varied are the uses of the same
words. Here is another exercise
for the studious foreigner: “Bill
had a billboard. Bill also had a
board bill. The board bill bored
Bill so that Bill sold the bill board
to pay his board bill. So, after
Bill sold his bill board the board
bill no longer bored Bill.”

Teacher (to new
“Why did Hannibal
Alps, my little man?”

My Little Man—“ For the same
reason the hen crossed th’ road.

pupil) —
cross the

Yer don’t catch me with no puz-
zels.”

“What's the charge?” asked the
judge.

“Bigamy, your honor,” replied
the cop.

“Two wives, eh?”

“No, three.”

“That isn’t bigamy,”
judge, “that’s
Ex,

replied the
trigonometry.”—

This was the note that was
handed to one of the grade teach-
ers the other day:

“Dear Mum.—Please excuse
Jimmy to-day He wont be to
school. He is acting as time keeper
for his father, Last night you gave
him this example, if a field is four
miles square how long will it take
a man walking three miles an hour
to walk two and one-half times
around it. Jimmy aint no man so
we had to send his pa. He left
early this morning and my hus
band says they ought to be back
late to-night, though it would be
hard going. Dear teacher, please
make it ladies the next time, as my
husband can't afford to lose a day’s
work. I don’t have no time to loaf
but I can spare a day off once in a
while better than my husband
can.” —Ex,

Sunday School Teacher—‘ You
must not say hide, say skin.”

Little Boy—‘ Skin me! oh
skin me! until the storm of life is
past.””

A clergyman, who had adver-
tised for an organist, received this
reply:

“Dear Sir—I notice you have
a vacancy for an organist and mu-
sic teacher, either lady or gentle-

116 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

man. Having been both for sev-
eral years I beg to apply for the
position.”

A Sunday School class was
studying a missionary lesson and
the teacher was telling of customs
among the Esquimaux.

“T have read an article by a
traveler among these people and
it is the duty of the Esquimaux’s
wife to chew his clothes to keep
them soft and pliable, as skins get
stiff, so a woman is chosen accord-
ing to her chewing ability and
every man endeavors to get a wife
with strong teeth.”

One little boy, with a look of
Nansen on his face, blurted out:

“Well, ain’t they fools! Why
don’t they get ’em a billy goat.”

Fond Mother (to overgrown
Gladys)—“ That dress, though last
year’s, must do you, child.”

“Yes, mamma. The dress is
last year’s, but the legs are this
year’s!”

PSALMS OF LIFE.
“Tell us not in mournful num-
bers
Exams are an empty dream,
For the brain is dull that slumbers
And marks are not what they
seem,
“Study hard, study earnest!
For to flunk is not the goal.
“Swain thou art, a swain return-
est,’
Ts not spoken of us all.

“Lives of schoolma’ms all remind
us
We can make our lives as bland
And departing leave behind us
Blisters on a dirty hand.”—E-x.

A little girl was asked to com-
pare the adjective cold. The fol-
lowing is her version:

Positive—cold.

Comparative—cough.

Superlative—coffin.

First Flea—“ Been on a vaca-
tion?”
Second Flea— No, on a tramp.”

The Dolan Company
ALBANY’S BEST CLOTHIERS

SPECIAL STYLES FOR YOUNG MEN

The Home of College Styles

EXCLUSIVE NORFOLK SUITS

South Pearl and Beaver Streets

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE 17

No, or Course Nor.
Does a saucer go with misery’s
cup?
Can you fasten a door with a
lock of hair?

Did a biting wind ever bite you,
and where?

Who is it that paints the signs
of the times?

Does the moon change her quar-
ters for nickels and dimes?

What tune do you play on the
feelings, pray?

And who is it mends the break
of day?

And, say—I’ll admit this is quite
absurd—

When you drop a remark, do you
break your word?

Can a rope be made out of ocean
strands?

Have the silent midnight
watches hands?

Can you cut a log with a wise
old saw?

Does the cup that cheers say,
“Hip, Hurrah?”

Can money be tight when change
is loose?

Now, what, ye wiseacres, what
is the use

Of going to high school and
taking the threes

When we’re posted by such plain
little problems as these?

Be thou the first true merit to be-
friend,

His praise is lost who waits till all
commend.—Pope.

I take it to be a principal rule of
life, not to be too much addicted to
any one thing.—Terence.

To live long, it is necessary to
live slowly.—Cicero.

Getting money is not all a man’s
business: to cultivate kindness is
a great part of the business of life.
—Jolinson,

The most difficult thing in life is
to know yourself—Thales.

He that calls a man ungrateful
sums up all the evil that a man
can be guilty of —Swift.

Mutability of temper and incon-
sistency with ourselves is the
greatest weakness of ‘human na-
ture—Addison.

From the lowest depth there is
a path to the loftiest height.
Carlyle.

Fortune’s wings are made of
Time’s feathers, which stay not
whilst one may measure them.—
Lilly.

Human experience, like the
stern lights of a ship at sea, il-
lumines only the path which we
have passed over.—Coleridge.

Examinations are formidable
even to the best prepared, for the
greatest fool may ask more than
the wisest man can answer.

Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute
Established

C 0
wa ENGINEERING

Civil, Mechanical, Electrical
SondforaCatalogu. TROY, N.Y.
118 THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

ESTABLISHED 1879

HELMES BROS.
Wood Mantels, Tile and Fire-Place Fixtures
Furniture, Carpets, Draperies and Bedding
Steam Bedding Renovators

4, 5 and 6 CENTRAL AVENUE, ALBANY, N. Y.

See PABST about Coffee Gersbach & Schafer

W. H. PABST wae
House Furnishings

Madison Avenue, Quail Street

—and— 16 and 17 Central Avenue

191 Lark Street. Telephone Connection

ARTHUR BANFILL
GROCER

Bisliop’s Preserves, Crystalized and Stuffed Figs and Prunes, Gouda and
Edam Cheese, Tunis Dates, Cresca Cumquats and Figs, Stuffed
Dates and Ginger, Plum Pudding, Bar Le Duc, Menier
Choc. Caviar, Melba Peaches, and Sauce.

293 STATE STREET, CORNER DOVE STREET

F. M. HOSLER

MANUFACTURER OF

Ice Cream and Confectionery
Wholesale and Retail

193 LARK STREET, ALBANY, N, Y.

HAVE

Ben V. Smith

Make, Adjust and Repair Your

William H. Luck

PICTURE FRAMES

Framed Pictures

EYE GLASSES
208 Washington Ave., Albany

50 N. Pearl St., Albany, N. Y. Just above Lark St.

Please mention “The Crimson and White.”

THE CRIMSON AND WHITE

Special Rates to Students

ALBANY ART UNION

Photographs---Artistic

48 NORTH PEARL STREET

Both Phones. ALBANY, N. Y.

Fresh Fragrant Flowers WEST END PORTRAIT STUDIO

F, J. Marshall
GLOECKNER
é Fine Photograph
“The Flower Shop —
97 State Street, Albany, N. Y. Fine Assortment of Frames

Both Telephones 3124 77 Central Avenue

Try Bacon, Stickney & Co.'s

Palace Garden Coffee
and
Eagle Spices in Cans

Special Rates to Students at

THE WENDELL STUDIO

15 North Pearl Street, Albany, N. Y.

Emory Irving Wendell
Proprietor

Please mention ‘‘ The Crimson and White.”

Quality First Then Best Values and Service
Open Saturday evenings until 10:30

Steefel Bros.

Quality Clothes for Men and Boys

Summer Clothes

For Vacation Days

If you-are going to a dressy place, or on a canoe trip —if
you expect to golf, tennis, or motor, the proper clothes will do
a lot toward making your out-of-door days happy.

Come here—all your wants have been anticipated — and
you'll save some money for the trip

Two and three-piece suits, flannel trousers, white shoes
socks, belts and hats, silk shirts, straw hats, panamas, khaki suits
dusters and everything else a man wears.

Headquarters for
Steefel Clothes Stetson Hats Manhattan Shirts _ Johnston & Murphy Shoes