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276
THE ECHO
Contents
LITERARY DEPARTMENT
To Keats y 5 Rachel A. Griswald, ’14
On Openmindedness to Reason Ballard F. Bowen,’14
Scott’s Characters . h Gerald S. Pratt, ’14
My Favorite Spot A . Jessie F. Dunseith, ’16
A Comparison of ‘‘ Manired,’’ ‘‘Prometheus Un-
bound,’’ and ‘‘ Faust’’ “i M. F.'S., 13
Letters Home -
EpiTroRIAL DEPARTMENT
In Remembrance
News DEPARTMENT .
ALUMNI DEPARTMENT
Kilauea . G 5 Helen T. Emerson, ’73
PAGE
277
279
284
287
289
295
299
»
,s
Che Erho
VOL. XXII FEBRUARY, 1913 No. 6
Literary Department
To Keats
HAT sounds are these that fill the air?
What fragrant breezes sweep?
What shadowy shapes around me creep?
And why dissolveth care?
This drowsy mood should numb the sense,
Yet every sense is keen.
What may this strange sweet sadness mean,
When joy still seems intense ?
I, too, would soar with the nightingale,
Dissolve and fade away ;
Yet vain the strife of this dull day —
I only long and fail.
Oh, teach me, master, that thou art,
The way to follow thee!
With hollow tone I voice my plea,
The echo from my heart.
Oh, teach me how to mount the stair
To Poesy’s height divine ;
Teach me to reach the smoke-wreathed shrine,
Though costing cold despair.
278 THE ECHO
I must not die an unknown death
While striving for the goal;
The palsied chill may reach my soul
And stifled be my breath,
And yet my foot will touch the stair,
If thou in spirit lead ;
Thy words shall be to me a creed —
Thou knewest the same despair.
I know! I see with clearer eye
The sadness of thy loss.
Within the sombre shadow of a cross
It was thy doom to die.
Thou sawest the trial and gloom of this pale,
Weariness, fever, and care;
Only in fancy didst thou dare
To soar with the nightingale.
Life’s sorrows brought unrest, like breath
Of winter on ocean deep;
Thou longedst for ease, thou prayedst for sleep,
And thou wert given — death!
So little while, ere life was run,
So short to do the deed
That to itself thy soul decreed,
And yet, how nobly done!
Oh, teach me, master, that thou art,
The way to follow thee.
Now understanding fills my plea,
The echo from my heart.
— Racurent A. Griswoxp, ’14.
THE ECHO 272
On Openmindedness To Reason
“When ignorance is bliss, ’tis folly to be wise.”
It seems that if there be a devil, no proverb could
be more useful to him as a maxim. There is so
much in it of satanic subtlety, so much diabolical
untruth, that nothing could be more fitting as a
teaching of Old Nick.
It has always been the aim of oppressors to keep
their subjects in ignorance. Berkeley said, ‘I
thank God, there are in Virginia no free schools
nor printing, and I hope we shall not have these
hundred years.” Berkeley was not the only tyrant
who would have withheld intellectual emancipation
from the world. History is full of tales of men who
attempted to strangle learning. Fortunately there
have been plenty of others who have lived and died
for the sake of spreading knowledge.
Not only to others do men prohibit light. There
are many who will not open their own souls to
knowledge. Men who have fixed ideas about the
good or evil of certain things will blindly defend
them, or, on the other hand, will stubbornly deny
them, against all the assertions of reason and justice.
Prejudiced by preconceived and mistaken notions of
the advisability of admitting the truth of a proposi-
tion, they submit their ideas to the censorship of
expediency, in preference to testing them according
to the principles of truth. They attempt to support
their conception of right by falsehood. They would
make deceit the handmaiden of justice. This is to
foolishly shut the eyes of the mind in a vain attempt
to annihilate facts by ignoring them.
This is a poor course to follow. “ Facts are stub-
280 THE ECHO
born things,’ and the only safe way is to admit
them. Nothing is ever gained for justice by deny-
ing justice to all. ‘Give the devil his due.” If he
be a bad devil, it will not bankrupt you; and if his
due is really a thing of value, you have probably
misjudged him. If a proposition which I defend is
true, there is no fact which I can admit which will
really damage my case permanently. If apparently
inconsistent, it will have to be explained sooner or
later; and the strongest support to a theory is some-
times found in those facts which at first seemed to
disprove it.
On the other hand, I may be mistaken in my be-
liefs. I can never do aught but deceive myself and
others by denying any evidence which bears on their
validity. Neither is it safe to refuse to accept the
logical conclusion from that evidence, even though
it destroy all my idols. If my god will not stand
fire, he is a poor god, and would better be burned!
If from my mines comes ore that does not permit
of refining, it is but dross, and would better be
melted into slag! When I have a theory I must
“work it for all it is worth.” If it will not apply
universally, it would better be recast until it will,
or else would better be limited in its expression to
those cases where it fits. The law of the survival
of the fittest applies to ideas, as well as to organisms
and races.
Right here we must meet the objections of those
who fear that this policy will destroy all the rich
field of fancy; will dissolve all the great mass of
faith and hopes, and reduce life to the dead level of
the barely material. They fear that trusting to our
THE ECHO 281
reason will destroy the world of faith. They hesi-
tate lest reason will tear down something of value
to man without building up a new structure in its
place. They are afraid some of the tacitly accepted
hypotheses useful to man will be shown untenable,
and that some of the assumptions necessary in the
regulation of his acts will be disproven or cast aside
because not possible of rigorous demonstration. But
this is not the function of reason, to tear down.
In the first place, reason need not meddle in the
world of faith, of fancy, and of hope need not be
so rigorously, let him build as concrete a foundation
as possible. But beyond this, he need not deny. The
world of faith, of fancy, and of hope, need not be
disturbed. Simply because we scrutinize closely
what we may does not make it impossible for us to
construct a fine and beautiful fabric of our hopes
for the world of the unseen. Nor does it prevent us
from making any tenable assumptions we wish, to
explain what we cannot clearly understand. There
will always be enough of the strange and doubtful to
employ all our faith and imagination without in-
cluding the realm of the things possible to know
under their sway!
Secondly, where reason does apply, it never truly
destroys. We cannot disprove any hypothesis with-
out replacing it by facts. We have no right to deny
any useful or pleasant assumption until we can show
the truth that we would substitute. Need we fear
that the truth will be a thing dangerous and regret-
able — less good for us than the fiction it would
displace? It is a small and unworthy faith that
puts its trust in fiction — that fears lest the truth
282 THE ECHO
be found wanting! Open your eyes and fear not,
the fairies of which you dream with your eyes shut
are less beautiful than the angels you will see with
them open. The darkness you people with monsters
will be replaced by a day brighter than any of your
imagination! Few men who have devoted them-
selves to the pursuit of knowledge have ever been
cheated in their rewards. More often they have
only mourned that they could not go further into
its beautiful lands.
Many a great philosopher, in promise, has failed
through his fear to follow the argument where it
led. Simply because the facts which we perceive
do not fit well with our old opinions, we reject the
new ideas altogether. Our minds are not subject to:
revision! We cannot amend our mental constitu-
tions! Instead of remaining wax to receive new
impressions, our minds harden to clay tablets upon
which are written the disproven theories of the past.
How much better to accept that which reason tells us
is true, and mold our opinions to fit. If we cannot
trust all that our senses and reason present to us in
the formation of our judgments, how much less
dare we formulate those judgments on a basis of
only selected evidence which fits well with our
former verdicts. We should have brave justice in
our courts, if it were the custom for the judge to
exclude all evidence except that which confirmed his
own beliefs!
It was one of the characteristics of the Greeks
that they were willing and able to follow the argu-
ment wherever it led. Some writer tells that if,
in some manner, they had received evidence that the
THE ECHO 283
moon was made of green cheese, they would have
believed it, incredible though it would have seemed!
They would have decided that their former ideas
concerning the moon were wrong, and would conse-
quently have adapted themselves to the new. This
trait led some of them into extravagances, but as
they looked further they learned more, and the new
discoveries corrected the old errors. It was, at least,
progress, although sometimes progress by making
mistakes. Many times we go ahead only after
many false steps. Heaven help the man who stands
still lest he lose his way! He will never see much
of the world. Someone has pointed out that stability
without progress is hardly deserving of the name of
existence.
The world is progressing. Every day we should
find out some belief in which we have been wrong.
Every advance along the road of life must be over
stones and rough places, and we must suffer many
bruises. Nevertheless it is better
‘““Men should perish, one by one,
Than that earth should stand at gaze like
Joshua’s moon in Ajalon!
Not in vain the distance beckons. Forward, for-
ward, let us range;
Let the great world spin forever down the ringing
grooves of change.
Through the shadow of the globe we sweep into the
younger day,
Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of
Cathay!”
— Barzrarp L. Bowen, ’14.
284 THE ECHO
Scott’s Characters
In close relationship to the type of fiction, either
in prose or verse, produced by any writer, is the
kind of characters which he commonly presents. Do
his works concern themselves with the great prob-
lems that are ever present in the social structure ?
We shall probably find characters that represent
types, for the individual is of relative unimportance
in the task of presenting a problem for solution, or
of urging a definite solution for a problem already
recognized as such. In “ Vanity Fair,” that keenest
of satire upon worldliness, most of Thackeray’s
characters are types. The worldly clergyman, the
dissolute but somehow most likable gambler, the gay
and faithless lover, the weak, yet womanly and quite
lovable heroine, the unpolished and long disap-
pointed, but strong, true, and honorable suitor, the
keen and crafty adventuress, all are there and all
are easily recognizable as type representatives.
They are not types by accident, but by design.
If the tale be one of adventure the characters may
be either individuals or types, but if they represent
types they do so, not by direct design of the author
to portray type representatives, but by reason of the
narrow limitations within which some of the charac-
ters in tales of pure adventure must be developed.
Thus, the hero of such stories is almost invariably
an individual who combines in his person a very
large share of the admirable traits of mankind.
This is true, not because the author wishes to show
any particular things about the lives of such men,
but because the hero must be of such a nature to
maintain his heroic position through a series of most
THE ECHO 285
trying situations. Another trait of characters in
tales of adventure is an almost universally static
nature. :
If the story be one whose movement and solution
are dependent, not so much upon event as upon the
mental struggles and conflicts of the characters, then,
surely, we shall find men and women who change
mightily, either for good or for evil. Meredith’s
“ Egoist ” is of this latter type, and in the principal
characters, Willoughby, Clara and Laetitia, we find
great and significant changes.
To apply these generalizations to the productions
of Scott’s pen is not a difficult task. His tales in
verse and his novels are both primarily stories of
adventure. In them we find special modifications of
certain types common to nearly all tales of this
nature. The wronged, but virtuous, and finally
triumphant knight, the villain who conceals his true
nature under knightly garb, the ever virtuous, though
sometimes weak, heroine, all these are special adapta-
tions of common types and recur often in Scott’s
works. Types they surely are, but types by virtue
of our own classification and existing by reason of
the necessities of the narrative, not because of any
desire of the author to portray these types as such.
De Wilton and Ivanhoe are excellent examples of
the first type, Marmion and Bois Guilbert of the
second, and Rowena and Ellen of the third. Quite
unlike in personality are these men and women —
necessarily so or the author’s craft were naught but
the contrivance of new situations — yet the simi-
larity of their functions is readily seen. These three
are perhaps the most important character types
286 THE ECHO
which we find in Scott and they may be found, in
slightly altered form, throughout the range of the
story of adventure. There are others of Scott’s
characters which might be considered as types, but
their nature, development, and occurrence even, are
so much more dependent upon the frame-work of
the plot than are the types peviously mentioned, that
I prefer to treat them as individuals. Jor instance,
Constance and Rebecca are both female characters
of secondary interest who suffer great wrong at the
hands of the belted villian, yet their functions in the
plot are so different that it seems improper to class
them as representatives of the same type.
There are other characters who represent types
only in the sense that every living person is a repre-
sentative of a more or less imaginary type. Thus,
aside from the three well-known types found in prac-
tically all long tales of adventure, we may say that
Scott’s characters are individuals.
My generalization in regard to the generally static
quality of characters in narratives of adventure is
easily shown to be true in Scott’s works. With him
character development is revelation and unfolding
rather than growth. Significant change in mental
attitude or power is not found in Scott’s characters.
We are shown new sides of a fixed character, but
actual character formation or remoulding is absent.
Thus we may draw the following conclusions in
regard to Scott’s characters. There are discernible
three general types, common to a great proportion of
narratives of adventure. These types exist, not by
design of the author, but by the necessity of the nar-
rative. Aside from these types, the characters may
THE ECHO 287
be considered as individuals. As regards mentality,
the characters are almost without exception static.
Guratp 8. Prarr, 714.
My Favorite Spot
It is not wonderfully beautiful, this favorite spot
of mine. There is none of the grandeur, the wild
beauty of nature, that excites one’s awe or admira-
tion at the first glance. This is but a quiet and
peaceful little valley among the hills. One might
easily pass it by in quest of a finer spot, yet I ever
find delight in it, ever turn my footsteps thither
when the world seems all wrong and nothing but
nearness to nature can bring me again into tune.
Half-way up a gently sloping hillside is a little
hollow, a sort of rude, natural seat. This is the point
from which I look out upon my bit of nature. To
the north the hill bends to meet its opposite neighbor,
thus forming an irregular horseshoe valley. To the
southward the hills open for a narrow crooked trail
leading to the valley below. The many trees of
earlier periods have long since disappeared, so, as I
look down the slope from my vantage point, I see
naught but irregular lines of old stumps leading to
the ragged bushes that fringe the weed-grown basin.
But at the foot of the hill opposite, almost at the end
of the horseshoe, a straggling line of young trees
starts to ascend and falls just short of the top. Here
a grim old stump seems to guard the top from their
approach.
Such is the view from my hollow — such is the
spot I call mine. Spring and autumn see the same
288 THE ECHO
hills, the same basin, but every day brings changes
to those hills of mine. Here Nature is ever chang-
ing the design, the pattern of her robe. In spring
she adds a violet, or a bud, or sometimes a shoot of
green from out that gaunt old stump across the way.
In autumn each day sees a new dash of color on the
leaves, until all are seared and burned into the
melancholy brown. So it goes through all the
seasons — two suns never set on exactly the same
design.
And with the garment the mood of the place
changes. When the winter snows cover all life, the
gray skies hang low, and through the bare boughs
the winds moan. A still solemnity pervades the at-
mosphere. As I gaze at the snow, and the trees, and
the sky, the spirit steals in and my thoughts turn to
the things that are gone, the lives that have departed
as the flowers, the brevity of our existence. But
when the spring comes, everywhere is a spirit of
gladness. The first buds appear, the new grass
shoots up, everywhere is new life. The sun breaks
through the clouds. The very air breathes newness
into one’s being. Everywhere is awakening, and the
joy of new life. Such is the brightest mood of the
place. But of all the moods, the autumn gives me
most pleasure. The summer has long since ended,
the grass is dying, and the opposite hill is strewn
with the brown leaves. The wind is cold and the sky
is gray, bringing the message of coming winter. But
here and there I spy a blue gentian, looking upward
“with the sweet and quiet eye.” All at once the sky
clears, and for a brief instant the sun sheds a yellow
transforming lustre over all. And it seems to me
THE ECHO 289
much like life, with its ‘ checkered shade and sun-
shine.”
Nature’s secrets are yet locked to me. I know but
little of her. I cannot call by name all the plants
and growing things on the hill or in the basin.
Neither can I write of my favorite spot in appreci-
ative verse, as poets have done. But as I look across
to the other hill and glance over every part, I feel a
kind of kinship with the hill. As I think of the
wonder and mystery of it all, a new emotion surges
through me and I turn from the spot with thoughts
that are higher and better.
Jussiz F. Dunserru, 716.
A Camparison of ‘‘ Manfred,” Prometheus
Unbound,” and “Faust”
Within a comparatively short space of time dur-
ing the first half of the nineteenth century three
poems appeared in Europe, having the same theme,
though worked out in widely differing ways.
Earliest of these was the “ First Part of Faust,” by
the great German poet Goethe. This was followed in
1816 by Byron’s “ Manfred,” a poem admittedly in-
fluenced by the reading of a translation of Goethe’s
work. Later, in 1820, appeared ‘‘ Prometheus Un-
bound” by Shelley, containing the same idea, but
now etherealized, lifted into the realm of the ideal.
The theme of all three poems is the struggle between
good and evil in the world for the possession of
man’s soul, and the ultimate triumph of good. But
this similarity must not lead us into the mistake of
supposing it to be the result of invitation; for it is
290 THE ECHO
true, as Shelley cautions us, that the forms in which
genius manifests itself are due largely to the moral
and intellectual conditions among which they have
been produced. These poems were a natural product
of the time in which they were written, and this to
a large degree accounts for their similarity, while
their differences are due, at least in large measure,
to the diversity in the characters and experiences of
the three poets, and the particular conditions under
which they were composed.
A few traits in each man stand out very prom-
inently in this connection and help to explain these
distinctions. Byron was a man of intense passions,
possessed of a morbid self-consciousness which made
him the ‘most unhappy of men.” Continually in
revolt against society, he looked down upon men as
creatures inferior to himself, separated from him by
his own strength of character, knowledge, and suf-
ferings. In Shelley we find the same revolt against
environment, but it is softened by his artistic pas-
sion for the ideal. He, too, saw existing evils, but
with them he saw also the vision of a noble future
raised from the ashes of the past. So, in his poem
we find the expression of hope and of ideal beauty in
fullest measure. In both of these poets we are
pained by a lack of harmony and balance of charac-
ter. They lived in extremes, rarely or never in the
golden mean. They were at best but half men, above
whom Goethe towers in symmetrical manhood. Busy
man of affairs, artist, scientist, philosopher, and poet,
his wide range of experience not only proved him
truest man of the three, but supplied the materials
for truest poetry as well. For poetry first of all is
THE ECHO 291
a criticism of life, and the best criticism of life de-
mands the deepest, broadest experience of living.
Another external difference exists in the manner
in which these poems were composed. ‘‘ Manfred ”
and “ Prometheus” are comparatively short, and
were written in the space of a few months. They
reflect but one phase of character, a single state of
mind. We find in them little growth, little develop-
ment of character. Manfred at the end is the same
passionate, morbid, remorseful man he was at the
beginning; and Prometheus, though we hear indeed
of a previous growth in pity and wisdom which
enables him to wish his curse had never been pro-
nounced, appears to us as a perfect character, in-
eapable of further growth or improvement. But
“Faust ” was a thing of slow growth. Begun while
still a student at the University of Leipsig, the work
grew with its author, deepening and enlarging with
his own life, and receiving its last touches only a few
months before his death at the age of eighty-three.
A masterpiece, indeed, enriched with the labor and
experience of so long and intense a life!
These three poems may be studied from many
viewpoints, of which we shall be able to consider only
a few, such as the scene of the drama, characters, the
solution of the problem, and the presentation of good
and evil.
The scene in each case has an intimate connection
with the spirit of the drama. In “ Manfred,” the
wildness, grandeur, and awe of the Alpine scenery
make a fitting frame for the picture of a soul, awful
in its power and suffering. In ‘‘ Prometheus ” we
are carried away into a land of myth, of soft vales
292 THE EOHO
and murmuring streams, of pleasant flowers and
gorgeous birds. But we reach this pleasant country
through the bleakness and barrenness of the
Caueassus, the scene of the Titan’s torment, as the
other of his joy. Manfred and Prometheus both
carry us through unfamiliar places; but Goethe’s
drama takes us in the first part through the simple,
every-day life about us, and in the second part into
the intellectual life of Faust, a life no less real be-
cause expressed by symbols.
Through these scenes move characters as different
as their surroundings. Manfred is proud of his
superiority, his power, even of his intense suffering.
He suffers, and justly, he admits, but though he has
sinned deeply, he does not surrender to evil; he is
still capable of kindly thoughts and deeds. In Pro-
metheus we see no hate nor malice, no pride, only an
overwhelming love and pity for those too weak to
help themselves. He is not human, but divine, and
endures with God-like patience his agony. But
Faust is only a man among men, with all a man’s
powers and limitations. We find evil as well as good
in his character, but his constant “streben ”’ carries
him farther and farther away from evil and
strengthens his higher nature.
Manfred suffers from remorse over his own crime
and longs for forgiveness anid rest. Prometheus
suffers through the evil of another, Jupiter, and
awaits with patience his release, calm and serene at
heart in spite of Jove’s malice. Faust suffers from
dissatisfaction with himself. THe is despondent over
the futility of his efforts to reach perfection. He
wishes to know all, feel all, do all, that so he may
THE ECHO 293
perhaps find content; and he is willing to do any-
thing, even though evil, in his search. To Manfred
death comes at last; the spell of the spirit is broken,
and though his mind persists in its morbid train of
thought, we cannot but believe that with death comes
the realization of his forgiveness with accompanying
joy and peace. The patience of Prometheus is
finally rewarded, evil is dethroned and love and joy
rule the world. And because he has striven always
toward the ideal, though through many wanderings,
God keeps the promise, given in the ‘“ Prologue in
Heaven,” to Faust to lead him to the light, and his
soul is carried to heaven where it may grow greater
and greater.
The conceptions of God, of good and evil are dif-
ferently treated in the three dramas. Appropriately
enough, there is little mention of God in ‘ Man-
fred.” He is rather a far-off, shadowy abstraction,
with scemingly little interest in human affairs. Not
so Arimanes, the evil spirit, whom his followers hail
as ruler of the world; he is deeply interested in the
affairs of the world and the extension of his king-
dom. But evil is not supreme, and God, who seems
to have permitted Manfred to work out his own sal-
vation, gives him pardon and release at last. In
“Prometheus ” we find an even more abstract Deity,
who, having made the world, seemingly abandons it
for ages, not, however, without providing for the
ultimate victory of good. How different is this from
the Faust conception of a Deity who is actively inter-
ested in human affairs, who has permitted evil that
good may come from it. It is His will, that, as the
angels sing at Faust’s death:
294 THE ECHO
“Wer immer strebend sich bemiiht
Den kénnen wir erlésen.”
and to supply the needed spur to this essential
“ streben,” evil is permitted.
“Des Menschen 'Titigkeit kann allzuleicht ersch-
laffen,
Er liebt sich bald die unbedingte Ruh,
Drum geb’ ich gern ihm den Gesellen zu,
Der reizt und wirkt und musz als Teufel schaffen.”’
Mephisto recognizes this when he calls himself:
“Ein Teil von jener Kraft
Die stets das Bése will, und stets das Gute schafft.”’
To try to choose a better or a worse among these
three would be of little value. Some there will
always be to whom the beauty and nobility of con-
ception of ‘‘ Prometheus” will make the greatest
appeal; some to whom “ Manfred” will seem deep-
est in its keen analysis of a rare psychological situ-
ation; while some will cling to “ Faust” because
the very individuality of its hero makes him a type
of all men. Like him we have all at some time to
meet and combat despair at the futility of earthly
wisdom, and at the power and extent of evil, the
temptation of sensual pleasures, of earthly position
and power, of beauty, and finally we, too, must come
to see that it is only in unselfish work for others that
we can find rest.
Here, indeed, is the meaning of all three dramas.
Prometheus is a great type of unselfishness; Man-
fred is forgiven because of his unselfish remorse, is
kept from the realization of forgiveness by the still
rampant egoism of his nature; while in Faust we
see the gradual rise of a soul from narrow self-seek-
ing to grand absorption in the welfare of others.
Mi E813:
THE ECHO 295
Letters Home
February 7, 1913.
Dear Dad,
No, I haven’t heard from the examinations yet,
but I can tell you now that I think I passed, judg-
ing by the papers I handed in. The exams. were
long and tedious, but, if I do say so, I tried to be
just as long and tedious as they were, and I think I
succeeded fairly well. Don’t begin to worry until
I wire you post haste to come and get me —or, if
perchance I do survive the unhappy news, to begin
saving your money. I don’t quite see how any real
live teacher could have the heart to flunk any such
cheerful person as myself. I can’t quite bring my-
self to go and ask any of them if they did. I heard
one of the girls — one of our class, I mean — ask-
ing about history. ‘“ Did I get through?” she asked
rather wanly. ‘‘ Well, to the best of my remem-
brance you did, Miss My memory isn’t very
good now and then, but I rather think you passed.”
“Oh! did I, really?” (smilingly). Then, more
dolefully, “Are you quite sure? Because I didn’t
really expect to.” “ Well, now, as I told you, I
think you did.” ‘‘ But I didn’t expect to!” “ Well,
if you don’t want to, I suppose I can go to the office
and change your mark; it isn’t too late yet.” “ Oh,
no! no! I don’t want you to change it!” “‘ Oh, very
well! I thought maybe you did. I like to be oblig-
ing when I ean.” (This very solemnly.) That
conversation amused me a lot, but I said to myself,
“ Theresa, my child, restrain your curiosity until
you get your report card. Don’t get disappointed
before you have to, for just as likely as not they'll
296 THE ECHO
all be failures, seeing that you feel so confident
about passing.”” Things do work by opposites now
and then.
But, by way of diversion, have you seen any loose
change floating about, which you have no immediate
use for? New term, you see, and a couple of new
courses, consequently, new books. I am collecting
books fast. I think when I get a little farther along
in years — right after I’ve graduated, maybe — Ill
found a library in my native town with the books
I’ve collected during my college course. I think by
that time I’ll have close on to a million — more or
less. I need a few other things, too — all of which
demand cash. I spent the whole of fifty cents on
the theatre this week. ‘She Stoops to Conquer”
and “The Rivals”? came to the Hall, and Editha
and I went. We had box seats (in the the back row
of the gallery) reserved (by getting there at 7
o’clock) for the enormous sum of twenty-five cents
apiece. I wanted to go again Wednesday night and
see “ Uncle Tom’s Cabin” for fifteen cents, but felt
I ecouldn’t afford it. (Of course, I didn’t have any
college work to prevent me from going.) TI really
shouldn’t have gone the two nights I did, but I
thought I might never get another chance. Besides,
I hate to wait for things. Speaking of waiting,
makes me remember something IT heard the other
day in the library —in the Young Men’s Associa-
tion Library. I was standing at the desk waiting to
take out a book, when in trailed three bedraggled-
looking little youngsters, who proceeded in order of
size, caps in hand, lock step, Indian file, to the
children’s room. In a minute or two out they
THE ECHO 297
shuffled in the same order, trailed up to the desk and
lined up in front of the librarian. The largest
acted as spokesman. ‘‘ We want these books,” he
said in an off-hand manner, as if he was in the habit
of getting what he wanted (though he didn’t look
so, poor little kid). The librarian looked at him
closely, ‘‘ Have you a ecard?” “ Nope.” ‘ How old
are you?” “They wants ’em, too.” “ But how old
are you?” ‘“]’m eight”—‘“‘1’m seven ”’—‘ Tm
six,” went down the line in descending ratio of
swagger and volume. “ Well, you’re not old enough.
You can’t take books out till you’re ten.” “But
Tim eight! “Ta seven! 72." 1m-sie! 70 Mowal
have to wait till you’re ten.” I wish you could have
seen those youngsters droop. All the starch just
wilted right out of them. They dropped the cher-
ished books, looked longingly at them, and filed out,
heads down, caps at half mast. I felt just like grab-
bing those books and running and giving them to the
youngsters. I know the libraries have to have
rules; but just think of waiting ages and ages —
till yow’re ten — when you want a thing now! And
a year looks like an eternity to a child.
Well, Dad, I’ve got to go to work. I’ve been fool-
ing away so much time this week that I must work
even Friday evening to make up. Last week, I
wished I was a junior — this week, I’m glad I’m
only a freshman, with all the good times still in
store. Last week was junior week, you know. They
had a banquet to themselves, a reception to the col-
lege — and then the prom. I only came in for the
reception, but I had a good time. So did Editha.
Quite contrary to all my expectations, a blithe-look-
298 THE ECHO
ing youth dropped in to see us the afternoon of the
reception, and Editha gently remarked that he was
“a boy from home ”? whom she’d “ known for years.”
And there I thought that child was confiding every-
thing to me! The youth appeared again at 7:30
with a bunch of flowers, and took Editha to the re-
ception. I trailed modestly along, as flower girl,
wall flower, of course. (That's a pun.) And
Editha — well, well, these girls!
But I really must close. Next time I write I’m
going to make it purely a social, not a business call.
I hate to ask for money in every letter — but, Dad,
you were a boy once yourself, weren’t you?
Lovingly,
Trp.
Che Erho
VOL. XXII FEBRUARY, 1913 No. 6
Board of Editors
J. Harry Warp 5 ‘5 “ 5 « 5 ‘i Editor-in-Chief
GerTRUDE WELLS E ° 4 ¢ . “ S Assistant Editor
Grace M. Youne 3 5 & K x MN . Literary Editor
KatTHARINE KINNE eS = “ ° . . Alumni Editor
EpirH Carr 7 - = - A . . 5 News Editor
Amy Woop « = et 2 2 : Business Manager
Katrina Van Dyck
eis eu Wass : 4 : : : Advertising Department
FLORENCE GARDNER ipti
Catcres J Woon . . ‘i . . Subscription Managers
Orris EMERY ol ee te bes sueGircmating Manager
Subscription, $1.00 per annum, payable in advance; $1.25 when not
paid before October 15th; single copies, 15 cents.
Contributions and expressions of opinions are solicited from the stu-
dent body and interested alumni.
Address all business communications to the business manager, 82 N.
Allen street.
“Tum Eco” is published (monthly except July and August) and owned
by the students of the New York State Normal College, and is entered in
the Albany Post Office as second-class matter.
Enitorial Department
In Remembrance
“We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.”
Another loyal student of our beloved College has
gone out from her alma mater, not as most of them
go, for she was not a senior, and it isnot June. Yet
the Master decreed that she had finished her course,
and she is gone. It must be well.
Elizabeth M. Coughlin, of the class of nineteen
hundred fourteen, deceased in her twentieth year
at her home in Doposit, Broome county, on the
300 THE ECHO
thirtieth day of January, last. Miss Coughlin was
in poor health during the last part of her sophomore
year, and became unable to return to college after
the Thanksgiving vacation in November. Always
rather shy and reserved in manner, she was a con-
scientious student and a loyal friend. From our
narrow, human point of view it is hard to see aught
but sadness in the departure of a young life so
blessed with high ideals and with hope, yet perhaps
sometime, when our visions are no longer obscured
by this world of shadows, we shall see more clearly,
and understand. Tur Eono extends sympathy to
the relatives and friends of our departed fellow-
student.
News Depariment
Faculty Notes
The eighth meeting of the eastern section of the
New York State Language Association was held at
the State Normal College on February 15, at 2:30
p.m. Prof. Decker of the German department of
our College was chairman of the meeting.
The program follows:
“The Department of Visual Instruction and
Modern Language Work” (illustrated), A. W.
Abrams, chief of the department of visual instrue-
tion.
“Some Common Faults in Modern Language In-
struction,” Dr. Wm. Pierce, inspector of modern
languages.
THE ECHO 301
“Model Lessons in German,’ W. C. Decker,
State Normal College.
“ Revision of Syllabus in Modern Languages,”
Arthur C. Host, Troy High School.
Junior Notes
Died, January 30, 1913, Elizabeth Coughlin, of
Deposit, N. Y. Miss Coughlin entered the College
in September, 1910, and her three years with us
have shown her sunny disposition and happy virtue.
We feel that the class has lost much by her death.
Miss Theodosia Dart spent the week-end of Feb-
ruary eighth at Schenectady.
Y. W. C. A. Notes
February 4, Miss Howells conducted the first
meeting of the new term. The meeting was given
over to a Bible-study rally, and, as a result, about
fifteen enlisted for the Bible-study course. This
will make a splendid class, if supported faithfully.
Dr. Blue has consented to be the leader of the class.
The meetings are held once a week, on Thursday
evening, at Dr. Blue’s home. It is sincerely hoped
that all the girls will take advantage of the splendid
opportunity and attend the meetings.
February 11, Miss Lucy Jones, a Y. W. C. A.
secretary, of Madras, India, gave a most interesting
talk on “ Work Among the Girls in India.” Being
well acquainted with the work, she was able to dis-
cuss the subject in a thorough manner.
302 THE ECHO
Friday, February 14, another sale of “ dogs,’
sandwiches, pickles, and cakes was held in the lower
hall.
Election of Y. W. C. A. officers for the new year
occurs some time in March.
Borussia Notes
A regular meeting of this society was held Feb-
ruary 4th in the High School chapel. At the con-
clusion of an interesting program the “‘ Mitgleeder”
adjourned to Room B where refreshments were
served.
Borussia will be represented in the 1913 Year
Book. A picture of the society has been taken and
this, together with the names of all members who
have paid their dues, will appear in the space
devoted to the German Society.
Py
The College Club
At its regular meeting on January 31, this organ-
ization enjoyed an interesting and comprehensive
talk on current events given by Professor Kirtland.
The following are a few of the topics with which
the talk was concerned: Magazines in the United
States and England that print nothing but verse;
Governor Sulzer—his difficult position; Wilson
and the trusts in New Jersey; Professor Frank
Murray’s report on the public schools of New York
city; the election in the electoral college; the
Panama canal and the Cape Cod canal; the Balkan
THE ECHO 303
war; the Home Rule Bill and the Suffrage Bill.
Come to our meetings and get in touch with the
moving world. Everybody welcome!
Chemical Club
The second regular meeting of the club, which is
a newcomer among the organizations of the College,
was held Tuesday, February 4, at 3:45. Mr.
Schneider read an interesting paper on ‘ Colo-
Cola.” Prof. Bronson’s talk was both profitable and
interesting. Several new members were elected.
Delta Omega Notes
The election of officers for the coming term re-
sulted as follows:
‘President — Adele Kaemmerlen.
Vice-President — Hannah Bray.
Corresponding Secretary — Lois Atwood.
Recording Secretary — Marion Wheeler.
Critic — Helen Odell.
Reporter — Agnes Futterer.
Marshals — Ruth Bayer and Mildred Fleming.
Chaplain — Ruth Evans.
The regular meeting of Delta Omega was held
Wednesday, February 12, at the flat. The literary
program prepared by Miss Helen Odell and Miss
Hannah Bray was unusually fine.
The Delta Omega “At Homes” to the faculty and
students of the college will begin Tuesday,
March 11.
304 THE EOHO
Kappa Delta Notes
Kappa Delta held its election of officers at the
first meeting in January and the following officers
were chosen:
President — Nola Rieffanaugh.
Vice-President — Amy Wood.
Secretary — Gertrude Wells.
Corresponding Secretary — Sylvia Rogers.
Treasurer — Edith Casey.
Reporter — Helen Denny.
“The House” is feeling rather lonesome these
days, since the departure of Amy Wood, ’13, who
is teaching in Otego, and Anna Kennedy, 713, who
is filling a position in Gloversville.
A very busy meeting was held at the KD House
on February 5. Katharine Kinne, ’13, was elected
vice-president pro tempore to act in Miss Wood’s
place.
Nola Rieffanaugh has been substituting in the
Cambridge High School for two weeks.
Kappa Delta wishes to congratulate the juniors
upon their reception and prom. The reception was
more than pleasant, and the prom. was certainly the
most enjoyable ever held at College.
Eta Phi Notes
On Saturday, February 8, a meeting was held at
Miss Mitchell’s home. The new officers took up
their duties. Plans were made for a toboggan party
Tuesday evening, the 11th of February. Supper
THE ECHO 305
was served at Miss Campbell’s, and a jolly good time
was the result of the affair.
On the 22nd of February the members of Eta
Phi will entertain the Faculty members.
Miss Molly Sullivan, H. E. 712, is back at College
taking a few hours of work each week.
G. A. A. Notes
The song contest shows that the G. A. A. possesses
a large amount of musical talent. Some of the mem-
bers have won fame in the student body, at least,
by their singing. These songs, too, add to the en-
thusiastic spirit which prevails at the basketball
games.
A frolic was arranged for the last meeting of the
Association and held under the direction of an able
freshman committee. Plans are under way for an
interclass association meet to be held soon in the
gymnasium. Dashes, relay races, and jumping will
be arranged for and prizes given to the winners.
Basket-Ball
The S. N. C. basketball team was defeated by
R. P. I., 1916, on Friday evening, February 7th, in
one of the closest and most exciting games ever
played in the College gym. During the first half
the Normal men held the visitors down to a score
of 13-12, keeping constantly ahead; but during the
second half the Troy men made a more determined
306 THE ECHO
attack and the teams alternated in leading until the
last minute of the half, when the score was tied. An
extra period of five minutes resulted in the addition
of three points to the Normal score and five to that
Clie a
Richards was injured during the first five minutes
and his place was taken by Lee. The features of
the game were the shooting of Anderson, with a
noticeable improvement in our men’s passing, and
the fine work of Wittenbury for the visitors.
Below is a summary of the game:
Sova: Pts.
URUiGha rd sore bey vate e.vecsiereoersnncarseie kecanist ees aley 2
PACUCETSON cole) Esl sieyah veraraiaite abvasen lo telemal a ss aierey ore 13
Pratt AG ie reese eihrers orale & alee csteusiare lel susie aveeey s 8
NW eon lene Geel tgee Feral ae besnas vi ata Caeeet sa ae vtaueyt lense arog 0
EEA yt ea) ey acne tea i pa eee a ade eae ey ee 2
MEG e pire egress yeeros alae tk wo ualleller a ucotnearine shavwiers 4
29
i HR. Poo Pts.
Es ePsO shales seu a weber aines Me laarr ins Rig Anis 6
Daseabury. lot ec ee ene hye 8
Wilttenib tiny n 1 Chuil Miner wns aah eG ty cladetch a tye sue, 10
Mohlin ig eyes a ee lcsie see ies eee 4
VUE an Ate cee 2 ae RL SAT leat Ur RUA MANS eI SUN ENO et 3
dpredear, Wy Be es ek ane ele i eel he Se 0
31
THE ECHO 307
R. P. I’s New Gymnasium
The Class of ’87 of the Rensselaer Polytechnic
Institute, Troy, N. Y., has presented it with a new
gymnasium at a cost of $150,000. The gymnasium
has been built and is now in use. It contains a
swimming pool 30 feet by 75 feet in size, bowling
alleys, rooms for inside baseball, basketball, hand-
ball, boxing, wrestling, a squash court, and the main
gymnasium for general athletic exercise. The
building is equipped throughout with the most ap-
proved modern apparatus. It is built of Harvard
brick with limestone trimmings and is fireproof
throughout.
Alumni Beparinent
In responding to a request for an article for THz
Eouo, Mr. Wm. M. Strong, ’98, stated that he is
teaching Latin in the Erasmus Hall High School,
Brooklyn, N. Y.
Mr. Frank Bennett, ’89, who has been visiting his
miece, Miss Catherine Bennett, ’14, called at the
College on February 4th. Mr. Bennett is practicing
law in Mt. Vernon, N. Y.
Miss Catherine Rider, 793, is spending some time
in Albany doing research work, and has called at the
College several times.
Miss Florence Keller, ’11, and Mr. Gustave John
Schlerling were married in Albany on December 21,
1912. They are living in Detroit, Michigan.
Mrs. W. F. Snyder, neé Alberta Parkhill, ’72,
308 THE ECHO
died at her home in Amsterdam on November 27,
1912. Her death was reported by Miss Annah P.
Lewis, who graduated in the same class with Mrs.
Snyder.
Mrs. James H. McRoberts, neé Maria Louise
Campbell, 755, died at the home of her daughter,
Mrs. M. J. Harper, Ingram, Pa., on December 27,
1912. Had she lived until February 9, 1913, she
would have celebrated her seventy-fifth birthday.
Mrs. McRoberts was a classmate of Prof. Albert N.
Huested and was always a loyal friend of the Col-
lege. She attended the alumni gatherings every
year until her health became impaired so that she
could not.
[We are indebted to Miss Helen L. Emerson, ’73,
for the following delightful article. Miss Emerson
has proved herself a loyal friend to THz Econo and
we know that all her articles are greatly appreciated.
— The Alumni Editor. ]
KILAUEA
Tur Worty’s Greatest Living Votcano
To interested friends, ‘Aloha nui.” It has been
my good fortune to see a real voleano in a state of
eruption, and to the friends at home who may not
have a like opportunity, I shall endeavor to give
some idea of what I felt as I gazed into that vast
fiery pit, if they care to take a trip with me.
The Hawaiian Islands have many and varied at-
tractions, but tourists who stop there on their way
around the world say that they have seen nothing in
their travels of a volcanic nature comparable to
THE ECHO 309
Kilauea. All voleanic activity is on the island of
Hawaii, and as the channels between the islands are
rough, there must be quite an incentive to induce
travelers to make the trip.
My party left Honolulu at noon one August day
on the “Mauna Kea,” a boat as large as the boats
plying on the upper Hudson. I remained on deck
until we entered the first channel, when I went to
my stateroom, and occasionally during the beautiful
moonlight night, I viewed the outside world through
my cabin window.
The steamer reached Hilo at 10 o’clock Wednes-
day morning, and we took cabs to the hotel. In the
party that left Honolulu was a gentleman and his
wife, active, alert, and greatly interested in every-
thing about them, although both were apparently
nearly seventy years of age. A young woman re-
marked to her companion, “‘ How sad to see two
such old people traveling alone ;” and the two agreed
that some one should be with them to care for them.
I was much amused when we reached Hilo to see
those “ poor old people,” looking as well cared for
as though they had spent the night before in a hotel,
walk quickly up the gangplank and enter a carriage,
and to see just behind them the young woman whose
sympathies they had enlisted, with hat askew, hair
dishevelled, without a collar, being assisted to a car-
riage by two Chinese boys.
Hilo is a sleepy town, next in size to Honolulu,
and the largest in Hawaii. The excursionists saw
many things to exclaim about, such as half a dozen
little donkeys carrying loads of cane twice as large
as they were; taro patches, taro being the staple food
310 THE ECHO
of the native; flumes for conducting the water over
the cane fields; mango trees loaded with their de-
licious fruit; and many other things that have be-
come commonplace to me because I see them every
day.
A small party went out to Rainbow Falls, a beau-
tiful cataract where the light strikes the water so as
to make a rainbow, which gives the falls its name.
At 2 o’clock in the afternoon we took the little
train to Glenwood, where stages met us. Each con-
veyance had four horses, and the drivers were
Hawaiians with flower “leis”? around their hats.
“All aboard! ” and we were off. When there was an
extra steep pitch, or the driver wished to increase
the speed on a bit of easy road, he sang an Hawaiian
song which had the same, if not better, effect than
I have seen a lash have when used for the same pur-
pose. Up, up, we climbed, finding an ever-changing
vegetation. At first we passed fields of waving cane,
with here and there tall, graceful palms and banana
trees, then we came to vineyards and guava trees,
and finally the ferns began to appear. These in-
ereased in size as the altitude increased.
After a ride of three hours over a perfect moun-
tain road we reached the Voleano Hotel. This
building is at an elevation of four thousand feet and
all about us we could see steam clouds rising, and in
the distance the glow of the fiery pit we had come to
visit. At first you feel shaky and wish you had
- always been good, for you seem so near to the in-
fernal regions.
After a good dinner, a party was made up to take
the trip to the chief attraction. At eight we started
THE ECHO 311
out, some on horseback, but many walking, and each
carrying a lantern. I was fortunate enough to have
a horse. I said fortunate, but am not quite sure
about it, for I worked hard all the way there to keep
from going over his head, and equally as hard all
the way back to keep from slipping over his tail.
In and out we wound along the narrow trail, and the
long line of twinkling lights against a blackness that
you could almost feel, as the sky was overcast, made
you think of all the stories you had ever read of
Kuklux on their way to a rendezvous. After
descending two thousand feet to the floor of
Kilauea, we followed our guide over the rough lava.
We crossed a bridge over a large crack, and were
told of tourists who had fallen in there to certain
death. All around were clouds of steam, and at
times we could feel the heat waves rising from the
eracks. The warmth was very acceptable as the
might was cold as well as dark. For two miles we
followed the trail over the lava until we reached a
corral where the horses were tied, and then we
walked three-quarters of a mile before we stood at
the mouth of that great safety valve. It is one
thing to see and quite another to describe it. We
sat on the rim of that great cauldron which is twelve
hundred feet across, and gazed in speechless fascina-
tion at the ever-changing spectacle three hundred
feet below. Parts of the surface would cool and
grow dark, then across the dark area great fiery
veins would zigzag and suddenly open like flashes of
lightning, displaying the fire beneath. All the time
there was a sound like angry waves dashing against
cliffs, and I thought it was the hot lava lashing the
312 THE ECHO
sides of the pit, but learned afterward it was the
explosion of gases. Smoke and sulphur fumes rose
from the pit, but a breeze carried them away and
we did not need our masks. Eight fountains were
ejecting living fire which fell in showers of scintil-
lating sparks, rivaling all the fireworks in the world
put together. It was a moving picture entertain-
ment on nature’s grandest scale.
A few nights before a party of Kanakas (natives)
were there to worship. They prayed for hours with
their hands over their faces, played their ‘“ ukuleles ”
and chanted, and then offered white chickens, red
handkerchiefs, and “leis” of beautiful flowers to
“ Pele.” All this in the twentieth century.
At twelve we started back, stopping at the Devil’s
Kitchen on our way, where the guide boiled eggs,
made coffee, and we scorched postcards over a huge
erack.
The following day I read in a book in which tour-
ists write their impressions of the famous volcano
these words which sum up the whole matter: ‘‘ The
bleedings of hell cut and restrained by the hand of
God.”
The next morning we visited the Sulphur Banks,
three minutes’ walk from the hotel. Here were
banks of beautiful green and yellow and over all a
veil of vapor. The ground was so hot we could not
stand still long at a time. From here we went to the
fern forest. There you see trees from twenty to
fifty feet high—long avenues of them. In this
forest there is a berry, growing on a bush, which
looks like our strawberry, but is almost tasteless. It
is called the “ ohelo berry,” and someone suggested
THE ECHO 313
that we call it “ cuss berry” as that was easier to
say.
In the afternoon we walked to the “ koa” forest.
“Koa” is the beautiful Hawaiian mahogany, the
lumbering of which is becoming one of Hawaii’s
industries.
I must not forget to tell you about the interesting
“tree moulds.” Centuries ago a great lava flow
came down the mountain and buried a forest of
trees. The lava cooled and made casts of the trees.
In place of the ancient forest, to-day you look down
into holes, walled up with stone, and on which are
imprints of bark, leaves, and, in same cases the first
limbs of the trees are plainly shown, which indicates
a lava flow of considerable depth.
I was very anxious to visit a ranch that was near,
and which I had read about. This ranch is owned by
an American who has grown rich by raising swine.
There is nothing novel about raising swine, but there
is something very novel about this man’s method of
feeding his. Inside the bark of the tree fern is a
pulp, rich in starch and sugar. The natives have
always known that this pulp when cooked makes ex-
cellent food for hogs, but the cooking on a large scale
was quite beyond them to manage. To this region
came a Yankee whose ingenuity solved the problem.
The hard lava coating for a great distance from the
voleano contains many cracks, from which steam is
continually escaping. Over these cracks a sort of
gridiron is placed, upon which logs of tree ferns are
piled and covered with leaves, limbs of trees, old
bags, or rocks, and left in this steam cooker for three
days, when one blow with an axe releases the pulp,
which thousands of hogs eagerly devour.
314 THE EOHO
On Sunday morning we left the hotel at five
o’clock and had a delightful stage ride of twenty-
eight miles down the opposite side of the mountain,
going on board the “ Mauna Loa” at one o’clock
p. m. for the homeward journey. On Monday morn-
ing voleano passengers were furnished a launch and
erew for a trip across the bay to Capt. Cook’s monu-
ment, and were then taken to Napoopoo to see the
ruins of an ancient native “ heiau,’’ or temple.
During the day the steamer made many stops for
passengers, freight, cattle, and horses. On account
of the reefs and rough water there are but two places
in the Hawaiian Islands, Honolulu and Hilo, where
steamers can come to the wharf. I made one land-
ing during the day. At this place the steamer was
anchored three-quarters of a mile from shore, and
the captain said the landing was an easy one. On
the side of the steamer is a pair of stairs, at the head
of which I found myself, but stepped aside to see
how a big native woman would manage. She got
along all right, and I bravely walked down the stairs
to where an officer was stationed on a small platform ;
the rest did not seem so easy, but there was no turn-
ing back for the stairs were full of people. In the
water was a strong-looking, good-sized boat, rowed
by four men, two on a side, the round part of their
oaken oars (which came from Maine) being, per-
haps, six inches in diameter. There was a man to
steer and two stalwart Hawaiians to assist passen-
gers into the boat. This was dancing on the waves,
now near the platform and now several feet away,
the men were singing a little tume, and at the right
moment shouted an Hawaiian word, at which time
THE ECHO 315
the officer released my arm and said, “Go!” I shut
my eyes and must have gone for I felt a strong grip
on my arms, my feet in space, and when I opened
my eyes found myself in the lap of a big good-
natured native who helped me to the seat behind him.
At Laupahoehoe no boat could stand the angry
waves which lash the reefs between the giant rocks
of the narrow landing, so there the passengers are
landed in a basket. On the deck of the steamer is a
large wooden box into which five people get, and a
big crane lifts the box high up over the waves and
lowers it again on shore. I shall always regret that
I did not make this landing, especially as I have
heard that it is quite a common method of getting
on shore in Alaska, where I hope to go some day.
The horses had a hard time and so did the men
having them in charge. A horse was put in a rope
cradle, and it was not always easy to adjust it, lifted
up with a crane, swung into the water, and the halter
thrown to a man in the boat who held it while the
horse swam alongside to the steamer. The cattle
were corralled in a yard leading to the water, and
cowboys, mounted on horses which enjoyed the fun
of chasing the stock into the water, drove them to the
boat where they were tied by the horns to the gun-
wale. A strong cable extended from the steamer to
the rowboat, and when the horses were all in the
water, and the cattle tied around the boat (on one
trip there were nineteen), a windlass worked by ma-
chinery drew the small boat to the steamer, and a
crane lifted the frightened animals on board, where
they entertained the passengers with an account of
their hard voyage, judging from the kicking, stam'p-
ing, and bellowing that followed.
316 THE ECHO
On Tuesday morning old “ Diamond Head ” was
in sight, and soon we were in Honolulu, happy to be
back, but very glad that we had braved rough chan-
nels to see the famous volcano, Kilauea.
On the twenty-ninth of December I expect to join
a party to visit Taal, the famous voleano of the
Philippines, and if you have enjoyed Kilauea, I may
invite you to go to Taal.
Hewten L. Emerson, ’73.
