,4o^ • -■ c o V .^ \ ' "-o^'^^>'^^ \J'^^V^ ^-o^9^'/ ' \„.^^" ^3' ^' .%^- .0 s "-^^o^ QlASS-[3aY gPEECHES AND QOMMENCEMENT QrATIONS OF THE CLASS OF EIGHTY-EIGHT SCHOOL OF ARTS QOLUMBIA QOLLEGE a>//oc TTjOOC (vfJLU) QOMMITTEE OF PUBLICATION Clarence Hoffman Young, Chairman Percy Foster Hall Henry Sleeper Harper \p^ aA Gi?T CCY::.::^ 23, 1347 THE LiBRAAY OF CONGRESS ail.l.l<9 SftOTMCRl 4 TURNUKe 400 A 401 Wt»T I4TM (TfltET, H. Qlass Opf'ceRS .^ Freshman Year President, Vice-President, Secretary, Treasurer, Historian, Poet, James Jay Mapes. Samuel Wakeman Andrews, Jr. Everett Walton Little. Clarence Hoffman Young. Hampton Denman Ewing. Lawrence Crawford Reamer. Sophomore Year President, Vice-President, Secretary, Treasurer, Historian, Poet, James Jay Mapes. Hampton Denman Ewing. Willard Cunningham Humphreys. - Harmon Albert Vedder. Lawrence Crawford Reamer. President, Vice-President, Secretary, Treasurer, Historian, Poet, Junior Year - Charles Sears Baldwin. Walter Lawrence Bogert. Willard Cunningham Humphreys. Robert Lee Morrell. - Percy Foster Hall. Lawrence Crawford Reamer. President, Vice-President, Secretary, Treasurer, Historian, Poet, Senior Year Hampton Denman Ewing. Henry Augustus Sill. - Percy Foster Hall. Clarence Hoffman Young. James Jay Mapes. Lawrence Crawford Reamer. pRESHMAN p^OLL William Benford Aitken, Frederic Brevoort Allin, Samuel Wakeman Andrews, Jr., Arthur DeLancey Ayrault, Stuart Baker, Charles Sears Baldwin, Walter Lawrence Bogert, Richard Clarence Bunzl, Philip Vanderbilt Caesar, Edward Lane Dodge, Cornelius Roosevelt Duffie, Jr., William Lincoln Elmer, Henry Bidwell Ely, Douglass Ewell, Hampton Denman Ewing, Jarvis Rose Fairchild, William Welling Fuller, John Parkin Gilford, Robert Goeller, Reginald Gordon, • Percy Foster Hall, Valentine Gill Hall, Leander Hammer, Henry Sleeper Harper, Frank Randal Hathaway, Samuel Cochran Herriman, Reuben Wing Howes, 3d., WiLLARD Cunningham Humphreys, Arthur Kane, Everett Walton Little, George French Little, Goodhue Livingston, Louis Eaton Mallory, James Jay Mapes, 5 Robert Finney Mathews, Walter Hippeau Merriam, Henry Eglington Montgomery, Samuel Lewis Moody, Kneeland Moore, Robert Lee Morrell, Edmund Elmendorf Murphy, Mansfield Ogden, Milton Oppenheimer, Francis Herbert Palmer, Alexander Forbes Parker, Emile Beresford Pickhardt, Sidney Beresford Pickhardt, Franklin Atkins Plummer, William Stone Post, William Robinson Powell, John Dyneley Prince, Sidney Wallace Probert, Graham French Putnam, Lawrence Crawford Reamer, Seth Banister Robinson, Jr., Henry Augustus Sill, Edward Deforest Simmons, Benson Bennett Sloan, Samuel Wyman Smith, John Schureman Sutphen, Jr., George Marvine Tuttle, Guy Van Amringe, Harmon Albert Vedder, Enrique Cirilo Villaverde, George Flint Warren, Jr., Lloyd Warren, Robert Watts, Jr., Alfred Wiener, William Wiener, Frank Armitage Wilcox, Clarence Hoffman Young. Class I^ay June ii, i Speeches Address of Welcome, - Clarence Hofp^man Young. Class History, JAMES Jay Mapes. Class Poem, - - LAWRENCE Crawford Reamer. Class Day Oration, - - - - Percy Foster Hall. Prophecy, . . . . Charles Sears Baldwin. Presentation, Willard Cunningham Humphreys. Committee Clarence Hoffman Young, Chairman ; Douglass Ewell, Jarvis Rose Fairchild, William Robinson Powell, Henry Augustus Sill, Harmon Albert Vedder, George Flint Warren, Jr. ^DDRESS OF \YeLCOME BY Clarence Hoffman Young Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen : MOST gladly do I undertake the pleasant task of bidding you a hearty welcome on this, the Class Day of grand old Eighty-eight. Ever loyal to its motto, wfioz izpb^ wfj.w — shoulder to shoulder — our class has gone through college ; and shoulder to shoulder are we here to-day to receive you. Yet not alone is our greeting given by " Glad words that breathe of sunshine and of morn. Sweet words that on the wings of evening fly," but likewise this lofty hall in its gay attire, nay, even Nature herself on this bright summer afternoon appears to bid you hail. Look on these witnesses to a brilliant past, trophies won by Columbia's stalwart sons; look too upon this ban- ner recently won by her gallant Freshman crew, the promise of fair success in the future. These all breathe forth a silent welcome on the air. Gaze now upon the features of these honored men, and especially upon the kindly, thought- ful face of him, who for more than twenty years, with steady hand and watchful eye, has guided our Alma Mater in her glorious career. Surely, though they themselves be absent, their influence still lingers here to-day to give you greeting. Despite the joy, however, that we experience at the sight of so many friendly faces, a feeling of sadness involuntarily steals o'er us at the thought that for us the happy years of college life are at an end. Yes, our college days are ended; for, though not until Commencement do we finally leave our Alma Mater's fostering arms, to-day we bid farewell to her time-honored walls. For the last time, assuredly as undergraduates, and perchance forever, are we gathered together, as a class, within her halls. Erelong, O class- mates, we shall part, some of us never to meet again ; but may the memory of this last meeting abide forever in our minds. By such a scene as this genius must be aroused, and surely the words of all that speak to-day, poet, prophet, historian, and orators, will bear witness to the inspiration that should spring from the presence of such lovely and such sympathetic faces. QlASS pjiSTORY BY James Jay /V\apes FOR many years it has been customary for Class Day his- torians to give exalted and exaggerated accounts of the deeds of their classes. The innocent and credulous audience, such as we have here to-day, composed chiefly of girls who take a particular interest in the class in question, are foolish enough to believe these imaginary accounts. Were we to follow this old custom, we should violate Eighty- eight's most cherished principle of reform, and rather than do this we have decided, contrary to custom, to tell you the truth. The first day of our college course, about four years ago, found seventy-two of us making our way from chapel to Professor Drisler's room. Amid the jeers and practical jokes of the surrounding Sophomores great events were taking place, but in our excitement we did not realize them. Eighty-eight had suddenly come into existence, and our history had begun. At one o'clock on the first day, acting on the advice of a sly Junior who wished to be amused, we held our first class meeting. This Junior arose to address us. He said there was business of great importance to be transacted, and that business was to prevent the Sophomores from breaking in on our room and throwing us out. And he closed by saying that the thundering noise we then heard outside was the powerful advance of the blood-thirsty Sophomores. Under such conditions it was marvelous how quickly wc became acquainted. All ceremony was laid aside ; no introductions were necessary. Impelled by a sudden and mysterious class spirit, we threw ourselves to- gether to fight for Eighty-eight. The determined manner in which we struggled and the long time we kept the Soph- omores out showed that many good rushers were among us. This gave us confidence, and we challenged our oppo- nents to an open cane rush, to take place on the Campus immediately. Their refusal to accept this offer was consid- ered a decided victory for the Freshmen. The conflicting advice given us by the Juniors, concern- ing the best way of preparing ourselves for the annual rush at the Manhattan A. C. Grounds, had a great deal to do with our defeat. One eloquent Junior spoke at great length on the advantages of entering the rush clad in canvas foot- ball jackets. Another said these were the worst things we could possibly wear, as a friend of his had been nearly choked in one ; and he strongly advised us to substitute for canvas jackets coats of oil, consisting of bare backs well rubbed with vaseline. During the next four or five months, the serious war we fought to protect our canes when the Sophomores tried to break them, showed that we did not agree with President Barnard when he tried to persuade us that canes were per- fectly useless articles of apparel. In the spring we organized our Freshman base-ball nine, and trained very successfully on Fourth avenue and Fiftieth street. We acquired great endurance and wind from the special supervision and attention given us by the police. The police also gave us some good points on base hits, but we always got ahead of them on home runs. The wily upper classmen, seeing our strength, forfeited to us the class games. Thus, although deprived of the longed-for satisfac- sion of beating them, we won the College base-ball cham- pionship. We met with a great calamity in our Freshman race with Harvard. During the race, Bunzl, our most powerful oars- man, lost his head. Since then, however, it has been the general belief that if Mr. Bunzl had only kept his head, he and we would have had a soft thing. Were it not that many Eighty-nine men are present to-day with their fair friends, I should describe to you some of our victories over them in our Sophomore year, how we defeated them in the annual rush with the largest score ever made — sixteen of our men on the cane to their two, and with what ease we won the Freshman-Sophomore games ; but I pass over these events with becoming modesty, lest their description might interfere with the pleasure of some one here this afternoon. At one very memorable period a few determined men became deeply interested in the English Department. They persuaded Professor Price that it would be for the good of the college that they should act as a vigilance committee in preserving order, while he conducted the recitation. They then attempted to enforce order by severe threats against all offenders, and success would doubtless have crowned their efforts, if it had not been that about fifty of our Class — always noted for its patriotism — hit on the wrong day for the Fourth of July and celebrated the signing of the Decla- ration of Independence during an English hour. President Barnard thought he heard a noise. After inquiring into the matter he was much pleased with our enthusiastic demon- stration. He realized that he had at last found a class of sufficient spirit and high intellectual power to appreciate some of his favorite ideas; so he proceeded at the next English hour to lecture to us on " The Relations between Constitutional Liberty and Modern Ethics and Strikes." The spirit of reform which has ever characterized our class did not stop here. It now reached a higher plane. A few more literary members filled a long-felt need in the col- lege by establishing the Shakespeare Society. Beginning with six its membership now, before the graduation of its founders, numbers sixty-two. This spirit of reform again led to the founding of a most successful course of Chapel addresses, and again to the in- ducing of Professor Drummond of Scotland to come here and address the college. One favorite method with us of improving the college was that of sending suggestions to the Faculty in the form of petitions. Among the most important ones granted were the following : Petition that we have a holiday on the Fri- day after Thanksgiving. Petition that we have more soap and clean towels in the cloak-room. Petition that our be- loved janitor Mike be not discharged. And petition that the North Hall Door be opened. The last was the most important petition of all. The opening of the North Hall Door would give us on rainy days a short cut to many lecture-rooms. Following the example of the strikers, who at this time were so successful in many parts of the country, we cut all our recitations and struck in a body. Forming round our leader, the lean and hungry Baldwin, we followed him back and forth from the President's room to the Superintendent's office, terrifying the Freshmen, Professor Price, and all other stray creatures that we happened to meet. This course of action added such strength to our petition that the Faculty were forced on the following morning to throw open the North Hall Door. By the end of the Sophomore year we had overcome the foe that destroys so many classes. Legendre had been conquered. In reforming the celebration of so great a vic- tory we substituted for the stale beer racket our renowned Theatre Party. Many of us remember how Patsy danced herself into the hearts of the Columbia boys. We can now hear the echoes of our cheers that followed the praises of the University base-ball nine in the singing of " So much for Han'ard and Princeton ; The only one left was Yale. One to one, — up to the ninth The game hung up for sale ! 13 Up stepped Finlay and Edwards, Batters well known to fame ; A two and three bagger Made Yale stagger, And we got there just the same ! " It was about this time that we began to feel the out- side influences that were continually reducing our number. Some became fascinated by business openings ; others found that college duties interfered with their attentions to the girls ; and a beloved classmate, of whom we are duly proud, became so popular with one girl that he left us and married her. The Class was probably saved from further destruc- tion in this way by the formation of the Benedict Club. This is nothing else than a combination against the girls. Its constitution provides that the first member that decides to marry must, before the ceremony, give to the rest of the club a champagne supper at Delmonico's. The club con- sists of eleven of the best-looking and most attractive men in Eighty-eight. For the benefit of the girls present — in order that they may do nothing they will be sorry for — I will say that it is generally understood that if during leap year any girl proposes to a Brother Benedict, it becomes her duty and not his to provide the supper. In Junior year we took our ease, we smoked our pipes, and sang our glees. We organized a Class Glee Club, and found to our great surprise that we could sing. Orpheus charmed the trees and rocks ; and we rejoiced to find that there was power concealed in our voices. After we had made the benches in the cloak-room tremble with joy, and the bricks in the old building crumble with delight, we undertook a far more difficult task. For two years our stern old proctor, Stephen Weeks, had terrified us by his ominous glances, and by taking down our names on that awful piece of paper. It was he that caused many a cigar- ette to waste its fragrance in our burnt pockets. Well, at last we noticed Stephen's weakness for our singing. So we composed a song especially in his honor, and always had it 14 on hand to sooth him with. Whenever he approached to stop the loud praise of our " Clementine," or our dancing accompaniment to " Clotilda," we always charmed and won him with this melodious song: I St Verse. We love Stephie, We love Stephie, We love Stephie WEEKS ! ! 2d Verse. For, we love Stephie, We love Stephie, We love Stephie WEEKS ! ! The great effort of our Junior year assumed the form of the Cohunbiad. Modesty forbids my saying that it was generally considered the best Cohunbiad ever issued. A few, however, were not much pleased with it, and one individual thought it so bad that he terrified the Editors for some days by his threats and concealed horse-whip. At last we came to our Senior year, and much extra dignity was thrust upon us. But there still rested in our innermost hearts our usual Class spirit and good-fellowship. Some Senior rejoicings in the cloak-room, when brought together by an " hour off," were so marked that Mike said we were " fresher than ever." Nevertheless, our high posi- tion and importance in college during this year was firmly established and universally recognized. The following ex- tract from the Spectator shows our generous treatment of the lower classes : " The Captain of the Freshman Crew, the Manager of their Base-ball Nine, and any member of the Freshman Class winning first prize in the college games will not be required to lift his hat more than one inch when he meets a Senior." We now come to the statistics of the Class — cold facts and figures. To give you an idea how these are compiled, I will read to you part of one paper taken at random from the many I have received : In what State were you bor7i ? New York State. How old arc you ? Twenty years. Do you smoke ? Yes. 15 Drink f No. Dance ? Yes. Sing? My friends say " No." Which is your favorite daily paper f The Times. Do you wear whiskers ? No. Why not? My mother won't let me. Wlio is the cleverest man in Eighty-eight ? Reamer. The most modest ? Kane. The cheekiest ? Villaverde. Hardest student ? Young. Who has been the bad boy of the Class ; the most frequently suspected and caught by Stephie ? Harry Sill. Feelings of what kind have you towards Stephie ? Love. Do you like g iris ? Yes. What kind? Upright, conversative, and not too stout. Summing up the answers from papers like this, we have of the forty-four men who will be graduated on Wednesday, twenty-six who were born in New York State, six in New Jersey, and the rest in various places. Twenty- nine are now residents of New York city. The oldest man in the Class is twenty-four years eleven months ; the young- est eighteen years eleven months ; and the average twenty years ten months. The religious convictions of the Class are : Episcopalian, nineteen ; Presbyterian, four ; Baptist, three ; Roman Cath- olic and Darwinian theory of Evolution, each two; and six have no convictions. Fifteen are Republicans, eight Democrats, eight Mug- wumps, five Independents and one Prohibitionist. Fifteen of the Class believe in Protection, and twenty-one favor Free Trade. Twenty-five think Cleveland will be our next President, and six still stick to Blaine. Woman's Suffrage was defeated with an emphatic, unani- mous vote. As to the brilliant careers to be pursued in life : twelve propose to study law, five medicine, five expect to go into business, three into literature, two will be architects, two i6 will enter the Church, eight know not what life has in store for them, and one is going to get married. Twenty men smoke, twenty-six drink, twenty-nine dance, if we include the man who in reply to this question, " Do you dance?" answered " Yes, all but the York," and twenty-two think they can sing. Although we have among us the founders of the Shakes- peare Society, when it comes to the favorite author we are surprised to see that Thackeray wins with eight votes, and Shakespeare ties Scott and Dickens for second place with only three. Twenty votes make the Times by all odds the favorite daily paper. The Tribune comes next with ten. To the question, " Do you like girls ? " we received an almost unanimous " Yes." One, however, restricted his answer by adding " In the Summer," Fifteen prefer brunettes, three blondes, and twenty are partial to both. The descriptions of the particular kind of girl that each one admires most are so varied that there seems to be a chance for all. To the question "Are you in love.'*" one answers " Slightly," another " Does n't know," and a worried, mis- erable looking third, "Ask me later." Nine unhesitatingly answer "Yes." Only three, however, are engaged, and one's mournful answer of " Not now," shows a sad youthful experience. Another hard-hearted member affirms that he is not in love, and then calmly adds that he is engaged. Were I not pledged to secrecy I should expose this scheming villain. To the question "On what income would you marry?" one answers " Country girl and $2,500, city girl and $4,000." Many say about $5,000, and two answer "On the girl's income." Twenty-five of the class prefer written examina- tions, ten oral. Thirty-four have used ponies, and twenty- four have cribbed. Fourteen admit that they have played poker in the cloak-room, and twenty-six (possibly those that have not) belong to the various literary societies. To the question "Do you wear whiskers?" ten men 17 answer "Yes." One man, who is never seen without his white horse, answers emphatically "iVf," and when asked " Why not?" says because he does n't like red whiskers. For the best instructor in college Professor Van Amringe and Dr. H. T. Peck each receive eleven votes — Mr. Butler comes next with four. Professor Van Amringe is declared the handsomest professor, receiving thirteen votes against Professor Rees' five. Seventeen votes elect Prof. William G. Peck the most popular and thirteen bring Professor Chan- dler second. The balloting in regard to the members of the Class proved very exciting. For the cleverest man, there are two ties, Mr. Reamer and Mr. Humphreys receive nine votes each — four go to Mr. Ewing and four to Mr. Sill. Mr. Kane is the most modest man with fifteen votes and Mr. Gilford breaks the record of his family by getting only second with ten. For the man who has done most for his Class Mr. Young receives twelve and Mr. Mapes fifteen votes. There was no real excitement when it came to the cheek- iest man. The powers of our victor are so great and his reputation so wide that I think he could have won first place without the assistance given him by Carry Story two years ago when she announced from the stage at our theatre party that " My Missus says Harry Ely is fresh." Messrs. Sloan, Sill, Hammer, and Wilcox each receive one vote, Mr. Villa- verde seven, and Mr. Ely twenty-nine. Mr. Young had a virtual walk over for the" hardest stu- dent " with thirty-two votes. Messrs. Baldwin and Wiener came next with three each. Nineteen votes give Mr. Wilcox the honor of being the man that can talk the most and say the least. Mr .Villaverde receives thirteen. For the most popular man Mr. Ewell receives five, Mr. Ewing seven, and Mr. Mapes twenty-one votes. In regard to the handsomest man in the Class the excite- ment was intense. Not less than fifteen men thought they i8 were the favorite candidates. And any one of them doubt- less would have been, had not the others worked so hard to win admirers. Mr. George F. Warren, with great foresight shaved ofT his beard and thus won first place with five votes. Mr. Douglass Ewell with his light check trousers and patent- leather shoes captured three. Three also went to the extra dignity Mr. Leander Hammer assumed with his frock coat. Mr. Vedder by bringing out his spring suit a month before its time received one, and Mr. Reamer lost ten by not grow- ing a moustache. Mr. Lloyd Warren is said to be the most self-satisfied, and the Class thinks Mr. Lawrence Reamer would be the greatest favorite with the girls. In the ballot for the bad boy of the Class — "most frequently suspected and caught by Stephen Weeks" — Mr. Bunzl received half a vote, Messrs. Sutphen and Ely each one, and, strange to say, Mr. Harry Sill, who stands in Scholarship second in the Class, and who will some day be the Rev. Dr. Sill, has been able to win the remaining forty-two. Twenty-five of us have feelings of love toward our Proctor Stephie, but Mr. Sill regards him with suspicion. All but six of the Class think the Cohimbiad and Miner should be united. The answers to " Which of the Library girls do you think the best-looking ? " may cause some con- fusion. As the real names of these belles of the Library are unknown to me, I am forced to read the votes just as they were cast. The Short One, the Long One and the Type-writer receive one vote each; "Miss "Dewey, two; the Blonde, three ; the Bearded Woman, five, and the Fat One wins with seven. Nineteen of us are satisfied with the amount of study- ing we have done during our college course ; fourteen are not. If the Class had to go through college again, ten would make no change in this respect ; eight would study more ; five would study less, and two would study not at all. The prize to be left by us to the lower class we con- sider the most popular will be awarded later by the Presen- 19 tation Orator according to the following vote : '89, i ; '91, 13, and '90, 22. And now the record of Eighty-eight draws to its close. To give a summary of our deeds would be impossible, for what you have just heard is the briefest outline of a noble history, one that would take four years to read. I leave the details to your imagination, and can only mention the general qualities that gave such power to Eighty-eight's career of reform — Class spirit, good feeling and unanimity, characteristics that made us act as one man. How can I better express them than with our Class Motto, to which we have been so faithful, cy//oc Trpo^ w/2uj — shoulder to shoulder. Qlass Poem BY Lawrence Qrawford [Reamer As the apparel doth the man proclaim, Oft for a poet, the metre does the same. As garb its wearer's nature doth express, So must a poet's verse his thoughts impress. Attuned unto the idea, must the measure be ; Both theme and number should as one agree. So have I sought the Goddess to unfold That sacred, inspired parchment so close rolled, Held by her Muse, upon whose page one reads How in her rhythm to write great deeds. Since Homer sang the fall of fated Troy, And later Virgil did its beat employ. No subject worthy of its swelling strain Has waked its voice to life again. But now, when I appeal and would rehearse The glories of our Class into its verse. The Goddess from Olympia's gleaming height, Where dwell the gods, aglow in silvery light, Looks, smiles, and speaks: "If thou," she says, " would'st write The praises of that class, its fame recite. Read here and learn the resonant refrain Of that great song which rolls an Epic strain. Not since the days of Virgil hath the ken Of that dear verse been known to gods or men." With such kind words the gracious Muse withdrew, As closed the drawn-back heaven to my view. I seized her gift, thanked her with grateful soul, And conned the writing of the precious scroll, And found unto the measure of its swell The glory of my subject suited well. My space is small ; upon one hand Doth Clio, jealous of her domain, stand. While on the other the prophetic sage Scowls lest I trespass on his proper page. If aught could e'er a man inspire to write My text in truth should guide my pen aright. Oft times the mind of poet doth his theme So elevate that, though it trivial seem, His skillful treatment doth it justify ; But on no such excuse can I rely. Your lenience I can only claim, or pray it For what I talk of, not the way I say it. 'Tis not my task the story to relate Of our past days ; to recapitulate Our history ; nor to unwind its mesh From those old days when Ely was so fresh. When Jimmy Mapes ruled with a despot's hand. And Oppenheimer lingered in the land. 'Twas so in Freshman year; and still 's the same — Sill lisped in Latin and the Latin came. In those old days before our wandering eyes The Pickhardts dashed like meteors through the skies. Then could the dreaded Stephie strike a chill To every smoking Freshie, and could fill Our souls with terror, how we might elude His vigils, till we later understood How innocuous was Weeks' desuetude. 'Twas in the following year we first paid court To Music, heavenly maid, and would resort To where, within the holy chapel's walls Would Baldwin's second bass resound with Hall's. From out the sacred seat of Duffle's shrine Rang out the tragic tale of Clementine, And Harry Sill 'd his piping treble raise The Pope's good wine, the Sultan's wives to praise. Our spirit of reform did animate Us to decree Legendre should meet his fate, Not in the usual way, but to our aid Call Thespia to dispatch him to the shade Of Orcus. On no funeral pyre Where winding-sheets flame high and higher, And 'round which mourners weep, should he expire. Not torch nor cypress-wreath should aid our task, But sock and buskin with the comic mask. So passed our victim to the shades beneath And left another laurel to our wreath. I fain would read more of this, if I might Dwell further on our history, and recite How when, as Juniors, our Columbiad 3i^ptd.rs, Advanced in naught but price o'er former years. How the Centennial celebration seemed From six tiers up ; and how much we esteemed Dear Don Santana and his colleague Duff, Who tarried here a period, short but long enough. Let me complain with Cicero, who says How things had changed in his degenerate days. The din of war and the torpedo's boom No longer thunder through the English room ! What new anomaly is this we hear. An old-style Triumph — without free beer ! Where is our Harvard race ; all in that line Hangs on the slender victories of our base-ball nine. With the small honors of a Freshman crew Columbia's prospects look less white than blue. One ray of comfort only is at hand, A younger brood of Mapes's in the land. Naught can their interest from us sever ; 23 Though classes come and classes go Those Mapes come on forever. Our feelings and support so apathetic Must fatal be to everything athletic ; And every year shall see some new brand die, As foot-ball and our crew can testify. Hail to that class which shall resuscitate Our College interests from their dying state. Let none deny that we have left behind A class memorial better in its kind Than any former one. As from her breast The pelican her children feeds, the best Of our ownselves we leave behind. This five In whom our memory shall survive Comprise our flower ; I place first of all The name of Ewing, whom I call Much the greatest of them. Could I prophesy His life, I could not indicate too high An end for him ; nor more could I foretell A walk in life, where he would not excel. To Hall's clear logic add Baldwin's grace of pen. These three with Young and Woodward are the men We leave behind with you, and whom we claim Will keep alive our memory and our fame. How altered will the face of all things be When we are gone, and none can see Beloved Juby bustling everywhere With bustling look and most important air. The chink of pennies on the cloak-room floor With Harmon Vedder gone shall sound no more. And Harry Harper now no longer stands In fear of Stephie, dealing out cold hands. No more Ed. Simmons the Campus decks In all the pride of English stripes and checks. Ne'er shall Warren, Baldwin, and the modest Kane Convene the Grub Club on its bench again. 24 Though in our thoughts and actions here to-day The serious may be little with the gay, The thoughts of parting underlying all The sadder meaning of the day recall. The task of parting, though we make it sweet, Is sorrow still ; but once again we meet Together here and mingle as a class, Then, from these scenes of life forever pass. Although our looks our purpose may belie, Our task to-day is but to say " Good-bye." Good-bye to all our favored seats and nooks. Good-bye \.o ponies, cribs, and even books, Good-bye to every hall and corner dear. Good-bye to friends that we are leaving here. If in one word I could our feeling tell — That final word would be to all — " Farewell." Qlass J^ay 0^^'^'on BY Percy Poster H^ll Mr. Chairman, Members of the Class of Eighty- eight, Ladies and Gentlemen: IF there is one thing more than another that the average undergraduate is fitted to do, by inclination if not by- nature, it is to criticise his Alma Mater, Like the typical small boy, he really loves his comely mother in his own peculiar way, and will champion her cause with vigorous if somewhat noisy devotion. He is prepared, at a moment's notice, to fight any boy of his own size who shall dare to disparage her. But, nevertheless, he is apt to arrogate to himself in return the privilege of vexing and teasing his long-suffering parent, and causes her many a sigh and many a tear. The student becomes aware of his latent powers as a critic early in his Freshman year. The second Sophomore term beholds him in the height of his glory, assuming his most patronizing and dictatorial air. After this he generally subsides a little; but he is never wholly free from the con- viction that he can give the Trustees and Faculty several valuable points, until he is a graduate of some ten years' standing. Then perchance he revisits the haunts of his youth ; and, unable to locate himself exactly amid the changed surroundings, he awakes to the fact that the old College is indeed moving on ; and he withdraws, a wiser man, ever after to dilate with commendable enthusiasm, as occa- 26 sion offers, on the remarkable breadth and foresight of President Barnard's progressive and liberal administration. This belief in his own wisdom, which seems part of the undergraduate nature, is not without some shadow of justi- fication. Did not Gen. Stewart L. Woodford on a recent memorable occasion address us publicly as " The Freshman Rulers of the University"? Was it not undergraduate in- fluence that opened the North Hall door? By whose efforts were Chapel lectures introduced and made successful ? Did not our united efforts recently save a popular and much- bewhiskered functionary of the college from decreed official decapitation? To whom belongs the credit that we are to have a befitting Commencement this year? Yes, the evi- dent respect and gratitude with which our petitions and suggestions have in each generation been received, and acted upon, may well have given rise to the idea that the authorities really need instruction as to how this college should be managed. Perhaps the greatest change for the better that is in any way traceable to student criticism was the abolition of the marking system. Long did we groan under this burden ; loudly did we bewail our wretched plight. To the baleful influence of the marking system, it was believed every evil under the sun might be attributed. The Spectator howled and gyrated in impotent despair. Successive Co- luvibiads revived and readjusted the old slugs and grinds on it year after year. Professor Drisler stamped it with tacit condemnation by invariably delaying to publish his marks until the last possible moment. Professor Peck marked on a little plan of his own, always satisfactory to the students. Professor Van Amringe, believing that the best way to abolish a bad law is to enforce it, rigidly car- ried out the system to its absurd and logical extreme. The causes and processes of its abolition have been hith- erto enveloped in mystery ; but by a method of spiritual intuition, of evolution from the inner consciousness, I have discovered the following facts (?) : 27 Early in the last college year the Faculty saw themselves confronted with a problem clearly unique in its nature. With the advent of the Class of Eighty-eight the college at once ipso facto made a great step forward, and her posi- tion and prestige became nobler and grander than ever be- fore. Columbia takes no backward steps! The problem before the Faculty then was, how shall we maintain our present standing and reputation when Eighty-eight leaves us next June ? " Oh ! insupportable and touching loss ! " Many plans were proposed and rejected. To build a Gymnasium was hardly within the legitimate province of the Faculty, and, moreover, such action on their part might seem to reflect upon the generosity and loyalty of our wealthy Alumni. To enlarge the lunch-room, to pension Mr. Weeks, to create fifty new fellowships and fill them all with Eighty-eight men, and various other schemes also met with valid objection. At length the advice of the students was sought ; the college publications were consulted, and in a number of the Spectator for November, 1885, was found a definite proposal for the abolition of marks and a complete scheme for a new system. The Faculty eagerly cribbed this article bodily, and after a few verbal corrections by Professor Price, it was published to an admiring world as "The Resolutions of the Faculty of Columbia College." Thus was the momentous change accomplished. The marking system died ingloriously, unwept, unhonored and unregretted, save, perchance, by the Executive Committee of the B K Society. And now in the clear light of freedom we are in a position to look back with calm and unprejudiced minds and consider what the change implies. The course is, to be sure, still largely Academic ; but the new system assumes that every man entering Columbia, himself intelligently appreciates the value of a good education and will himself work steadily and conscientiously, without the questionable stimulus of a system of nominal rewards and punishments. And the assumption is a just and useful one. It places the responsibility where it 28 naturally belongs. It is the function of a College to impart instruction to willing recipients, not to compel grudging school-boys to do a certain amount of mechanical work; and Columbia is wise in repudiating, as far as possible, artificial methods and elementary discipline. She offers her great advantages to the student and says in effect : " Take these, use them well, and with them educate yourself. Upon you rests the further responsibility." If I have then stated the case correctly, is it not import- ant that every matriculant should realize for himself clearly and definitely, what his aims and methods ought to be? It is almost inconceivable indeed that any one could spend four years here and depart unblessed. The almost super- human feat is rarely accomplished by even the most reckless idleness, perversity and immorality ; but it is only too easy for mere unwitting thoughtlessness and careless complacency to fail of securing more than a small share of those rare gifts which are so freely offered to all. What then is the suimnuvi bonum to be attained in a College course ? A mind well stored with facts, figures, formulas, names, dates and theories ? The degree ? Pleasant experi- ences and a general acquaintance with the fields of literature and science? The ability to make a sophomoric speech; to write an essay correctly spelled, punctuated, and para- graphed and the general feeling of being an educated man? None of these surmises, I take it, hits the mark. We are here to be educated, — trained, — developed, — formed for life's work ; to acquire habits of close and accurate observa- tion, of clear, rapid, logical and concise thought ; to learn how and what to study ; to progress towards a ripe and rounded manhood. This is the true aim. The acquisition of knowledge is in undergraduate life purely a secondary consideration. Mere knowledge is not power. It has been well said, " The learner does not want to be made a recep- tacle of other men's words and thoughts, but to be made a thinker of thoughts and a wielder of words himself." * The * "Teachers and Teaching," by the Rev. E. Thring, M.A. 29 intellect, not the memory, should be emphasized. The whole theory of our curriculum seems to show this. Why is so much attention paid in the early stages to mathe- matics ? Does any one expect to remember Sturm's Theorem which he learned in his Freshman year? Was it then use- less to study it ? Yes, if it were learned parrot-like. But if the student traced its intricate chain of argument with patient and thoughtful toil, if he made it his own, — though the process be forgotten, its effects are still vigorous and efficient upon his higher thinking. A well-furnished memory is an instrument of limited usefulness ; a trained and vigor- ous intellect, able to take a practical grasp of whatever set of facts it is turned to, will hold sway in any sphere. It will be of little benefit in the ordinary professional or mercantile career, to remember exactly the problem discussed and the names of the speakers in Plato's Protagoras ; but the cultiva- tion of the faculty of close observation by study of the classic languages, increased ability to estimate the validity of an argument acquired in pursuing the wily Socrates, the insight into human nature — these are gains indeed. Mr. J. S. Mill tells us in his Autobiography that he began to learn Greek when but three years old, and in his ninth year was familiar with Latin also. The list of the histories that he had read with intelligent interest, in childhood's tender years, in- cludes more than a dozen large volumes. Before he was in his teens he was conversant with more Latin and Greek au- thors than is, I think, any undergraduate of this college to- day. And yet in the works that have made Mr. Mill's name famous we find no wealth of references or illustrations drawn from these sources. It was by his habits of compre- hensive and logical thought and persistent thoroughness, cultivated under his gifted father's special care, that he rose to his lofty eminence in the world of letters and philoso- phy. If I am right in these conclusions, if the cultivation of the intellectual powers is the chief, though by no means the only, object of our course of study, how far astray might 30 the old marking system lead us. But will matters be mended under the new method, unless men shall think for them- selves and rise to a sense of their responsibility ? Will any- thing be gained unless shirking, cribbing and desultory, dishonest, irregular work, are sternly discouraged, and am- bition and conscience supply the needed spur? Intellect is not indeed to be cultivated alone. Faith, generosity, courage, patience, honor, humility, and their kindred virtues cannot be obliterated from the conception of complete manhood. But I am not now speaking of all departments and influences of college life. The point that I have tried to enforce relates to the specific work of study, and is unfortunately much more generally admitted than applied, namely, that cramming is 7iot educating; that we want to be made thinkers, not parrots ; practical, efficient workers, not mere theoretical doctrinaires and pedantic critics. And to this end, it is a useful rule, not to attempt too much, but to do the little well ; to reflect as well as read ; to aim at quality rather than quantity; to shun as a pestilence the habit of careless, superficial work. " Your university studies," wrote Canon Kingsley to a young friend, " are only useful in so far as they strengthen your mind to learn, judge and systemize for itself after you leave college." Prophecy BY Qharles Sears 3^^^^'^ Mr. President, Members of the Class of Eighty- eight, Ladies and Gentlemen : A PROPHET is not without honour save in his own country." This ancient remark was never truer than it is to-day. In fact, you may set it down for truth that a prophet nowadays is not honored in any country. Prophecy, hke the making of mummies, is a lost art. Of course we have weather prophets, whom none of us believe ; and Wall Street profits, which few of us get. But, take it all together, the age is, so to speak, profitless. There is no divine afflatus floating about, which a man may absorb in rapt contemplation. I'm sure of this; for I mounted to the observatory to hold silent communion with the stars ; and did I get any ? No. There were Woodward and Ewing and two ravishing girls tete-a-tete at the tele- scope, and whispering over the transit. Finding my pres- ence superfluous, I came down — without the afflatus. Yet I must prophesy. Two things then remained for me to do ; to fabricate a base tissue of falsehoods — and I couldn't do that — or to obtain supernatural assistance. I thought of consulting the Diss Debar; but feeling, in my official capacity, something of the prestige of the college about me, I decided that wouldn't do. My friend George Little kindly offered to throw me into a hypnotic state ; but, since he wasn't quite sure he could throw me out again, 32 I feared the experiment might impair my future useful- ness. A hypnotic state, however, seemed the very thing. Dreams are out of place in a scientific age. Besides, a hypnotic state might enable me to cast my prophecy in moving verse — a thing I knew I couldn't do naturally. So away I went — no matter where — and was hypnotized ; and straighway I saw my Muse ! "Immortal Muse" — stop — let me first explain. My muse belongs not to the ancient train, With slippers, dowdy robes, and coiled back-hair. Who sit about on frescoed walls and stare. My muse's ringlets cluster in a bang ; She 's been to Madame Reed's, and uses slang, A merry maid, clad a la Demorest, The sort of girl a college man likes best. Little thinks she of what the world may like ; No Pegasus for her, she rides a " trike." A maid to put men's senses in a whirl. " Immortal Muse, thou perfect New York girl. Lend me thine aid, inspire my soul with hope, Crib me some verse from Alexander Pope, Show me my comrades' future lives, and bate No page of all the hidden book of fate." These were the words, or words to that effect, I uttered to a maid of such aspect As I 've described. Imagine, then, my fright To see her pout, avert her head, and frown outright. *' How now, my Muse," cried I ; " what woe Distorts that rosy lip ? " " Ah, luckless prophet, do n't you know. To see some men, you 'd have to go On Dante's little trip?" She tittered then, immortal tease. To see me all confused ; To hear me say with tottering knees. 33 " Oh no, dear goddess, if you please, I'd rather be excused." " Poor mortal, you shall see each face Before it goes to dwell With Pluto in that doubtful place, Whose air is warm, with just a trace Of sulphurean smell." Then, e'er I guessed what this implied, I saw a wondrous sight ; A cellar, dingy, long and wide. Crowded with men from side to side, In workmen's clothes bedight. To them their leader made appeal, A barrel, turned on end, Supported him. I could but feel His bristling beard must sure conceal The features of a friend. His voice scarce proved my surmise right E'er, rolling up his fist, " We're ground to death ! " he roared, " let's fight. I make appeal to dynamite ! I am an anarchist ! " There's BENSON SLOAN owns fifty roads, A mean aristocrat ; Discharges Union hands, and goads The workingman. To-day forebodes His doom ! He'll pay for that ! " He paused ; and from a keg near by His friends drew out the bung. Then, while above the flagon high He fiercely rolled his savage eye. All shrieked " Hooray for YoUNG ! " 34 And at the shout, lo I cellar, workmen, all were gone. And, while I gazed, another vision broke upon My sight. I saw myself in editorial chair; And, as I watched this double self with busy care Scribbling abundant nonsense for the world, a man Pushed in the door, advanced a step, and thus began : " Want any lead-pencils, note paper, vaseline, Mucilage, camphor-ice, ivory soap, Calendars, diaries, slate-pencils, bandoline, Anything? Come, you'll buy something, I hope. " Sarsaparilla here, only a dollar, or Sutherland Sisters to make your hair grow, Lydia Pinkham and cure for the cholera. Chewing-gum, rat-poison, moth-killer " — " NO 1 ! " He went. No sooner had I marked his gait Than straight I knew 'twas PRINCE, and shouted " WatL" Then, buying chewing-gum enough for two, I talked with him of all we used to do. My guest departed. With a sigh, once more I bent industrious o'er my laden desk. No peace, however, came, for up the stairs Another vandal strode, and entered straight, I knew him at a glance, and moved my lips To say, "Why, hello, WiLCOX, how-de-do?" But as I rose, at once he started in. "One moment, sir, I'll not detain you long; I'm agent for a most stupendous work. y\ll editors must have it on their shelves — The History of the Mormons, volume one, Tree-calf, by G. F. PUTNAM, S. T. D. Complete description, sir, of Mormon life ; Contains, besides, a life of Brigham Young, 35 Appendix, Mormon scriptures, colored-plates, And 'Why I am a Mormon,' H. A. SiLL." Gasping for breath, I sank back in my seat. " Look here, old man," I said, "just please go slow. I haven't heard that endless voice of yours Since we two fought the freedom of the will." " Baldwin? By George," quoth he, "why put it there I'll give you all the discounts," — " Oh, come now, Philosophy's your line," I answered. " Tush, You've missed your calling ; don't go round with books." " That's so ; but luck is poor. Perhaps I'll get the chair when Alexander's dead." The vision faded, e'en as fades the smoke. And melts in air, when Stevie doth appear. I saw the boundless prairie. Shouting broke In strange, discordant cadence on my ear. " Lead them horses to drink, Let the bay have a crack, They ain't thirsty, you think? Why, I'll lather your back, Ef you don't lead them horses to water, as sure as my name's one-eyed Jack. Girt my bronco up tight. Put a blanket on top; Yes, I'm in for a fight, And I ain't go'n' to stop Till I get a good bead on the varmints, and some- body's sartain to drop. Where's my bowie — let's see — Got a lariat there ? Bring my shooter. No ! — Gee ! — Jones been scalped? I don't care ; There aint nothing that rides on the prairie kin give any dust to my mxare. 36 Hello, stranger ; my name? Yes, it's SUTPHEN ; you're right. From Columbia? The same. Rancho mine ? Yessir — quite. You ain't Baldy? Why, hello! Here, POWELL, jest set this chap down to a bite." My brain reeled, and I woke to see New York appear. Wand'ring about a bit, my senses scarcely clear, I bought a paper. How shall I the tale relate? I found the politics of 1928 In full. The paper was a rabid sheet, and swore That G. F. Warren, woman's suffrage senator, Was little better than a fool ; his theories Utopian, Quixotic, crazy ! " Who but sees One can't be virtuous and be a politician too, And that's the very thing this maniac tries to do." Two columns on what rapturous eulogy was spent On EwiNG, Fenian candidate for President ! " The grand old chief! the fiery orator ! the brave And noble prince of bosses ! just the man to save Our country from the curst aristocratic greed. And open wide the treasury to Ireland's need ! " Just here I saw a banner raised, 'mid deaf'ning clamor, " For Alderman, The People's Choice, Leander Hammer." A poster close at hand displayed two well-known shapes, " Star Theatre, the great tragedian, James Jay Mapes. Macbeth, Othello, Hamlet, Richard III. and Lear; New scenery and costumes. In the cast appear The city's favorite actors. ViLLAVERDE plays Macduff, lago, Richmond ; usual matinees." Then, as I gazed confounded, stunned, like one distraught. To see my brilliant friends thus advertised, methought Some power impelled me to a crowded gallery. Down on the stage, lo ! Jimmy writhed most fearfully, Howling, " Have mercy, Jesu ! — soft ! I did but dream." Never since Freshman year had I heard such a scream. 37 Then entered Villy in resplendent panoply^ And roared : " God and Saint George ! Richmond and vic- tory ! " Sadly I turned away; and mounted slow The nearest elevated railroad stair. Still aimless wandered I ; nor did I know What new surprise would come, nor did I care. All absently I dropped my ticket in ; Then turned, and there sat Fairchild at the box ! He rose not. With his old-time lazy grin He sat ; and, sitting, seemed as one that mocks To find himself thus out of joint with fate. '* Hello, old man, sit down ; there's lots of time. Don't look surprised. St. Peter keeps a gate. Don't preach to me. I wouldn't give a dime To change my lot. I like to sit and chop. It's work enough to keep the blood aflow. It's easy, too. Sometimes I have to stop A hasty passenger — not often, though. And healthy? Yes; you see I'm far from thin. Good-bye." Just here the train came rumbling in. Drowsily nodding, and lulled by the clickety-clack of the car-wheels, Musing on what I had seen, I unconsciously read advertise- ments. New were they all to me, save Sapolio's chestnutty prov- erbs. Suddenly startled, I saw in elaborate colors before me, *' Hathaway's Hats are the best. You can get a good tile for two-fifty. Silk hats blocked while you wait." And the panel beyond bore the legend : " Use Kane's Cure for the Gout, and Compressible Calomel Capsules." Emerging at some place up-town, I scarce know where, Obeying still the subtle impulse, down the stair 38 I walked, across a block or two, and on a square I saw a fine new club, frequented, as it seemed, By old men of the world ; for such I found, or dreamed I found, within. And all at once upon me beamed A well-known countenance ; and HUMPHREYS seized my hand. Then, as we chatted, he replied to my demand For news from all our classmates, scattered o'er the land. '* There's EwELL, married now a second time, you know. You haven't heard ? That's strange. The poor old boy — ho — ho ! Has drawn the blanks both times. He married first, and hence The Benedicts came down and dined at his expense. And now he's caught a Tartar. Oh ! Deliver me From such a woman ! In the afternoon you see Douglass and all the children out to take a walk. It really makes me shiver, sir, to hear him talk, And see his melancholy resignation. This Suits my taste more than any such domestic bliss. You meet him in the rain, he'll say: 'It isn't far Besides, it costs too much for all these in a car.' You must have heard of WOODWARD. Not to know our Ben Argues yourself unknown. He's just returned again From Paris, after serving thirteen years or more As Consul. Paris mourns his wife's receptions ; for They were unrivaled, quite supreme. When I was there I felt the honor of his friendship, I declare. But AlTKEN ! Yes, sir, he's the greatest fad in town. He rivaled Worth, and in a month he did him brown. His store is full of ladies, and his pockets bulge With cash. Whate'er his secret is, he don't divulge The way to other men. And every great affair Is sure to fill his order-book for toilets, or for rare Knick-knacks and ornaments. His genius never fails. He makes ' the sweetest things,' as women say, and nails 39 To each a fancy price ; and, if Papa complains, He has to yield in time ; and Aitken makes the gains." I scarcely heard. The strange illusion failed again. A buzzing filled my ears. I felt a pang beside As if from Jekyll I were turning into Hyde. The conversation sounded like a roar ; and then A silence fell, as falls a stillness deep Upon th' admiring crowd, when Phyllis speeds Across the terrace to the library ; And downward casts her eyes, and little heeds Who looks at her. Behold, beneath a tree Mid pastures green, wooed by the wand'ring breeze I saw our REAMER sitting lazily, "Singing of summer, at full-throated ease." And thus he sang : " My back aches. I'm aweary of the sun Ah ! welladay ! I wish this wretched epic thing was done, And I could say * Here ! take your copy ! let me go my way.' *' I wish I was a doctor. Verse don't pay ; And then, besides, A doctor has a gig, and I must stay, For want of rides, In this dull place where carking care abides. " There's Goeller's farm is just a mile away. I haven't seen The fellow since he dunned me hard to pay That seventeen I owe him. Dear! he needn't be so mean. " I wish I was a farmer, and could sit And chew a straw As Bobby does, and feed the hogs a bit. And get a paw So hard, you couldn't cut it with a saw. 40 "O yes, I'd like to fatten with the cows, And vegetate, Like Bob, and wear a dirty cotton blouse ; And when I ate, Heap up ' a meal o' victuals' on my plate. " I'm hard up ; Smith has sent his little bill For two months' board. I've got to get some cash somehow ; but still, Though small my hoard, I yet can live on what I can't afford. " No pleasure cheers my weary life unless I go to bed. No damsel takes the trouble to caress My aching head. Indeed, indeed, I would that I were dead." Lured by the sweet, harmonious nonsense, then My fickle muse appeared to me again ; And, putting quite aside the vision, she Began herself to voice the prophecy. " Immortal bard, prepare your tears to shed ; For Samuel Moody's married a Co-ed ! Back from the wilds of forest-crowned Maine He came to woo and win this ' fair Elaine.' Full oft she eyed with cold, repellent look Fond Samuel meekly bending o'er his book. Yet from the day when, conq'ring maiden fear, She came to study 'mid the Freshmen here. His peace was gone ; no joy he'd known before Could give him solace. Chaucer was a bore, Sanskrit was fudge ; his heart was in a storm, He loved each angle of her wooden form. Lo, she is his ; and, while his dinner burns, She reads him Greek and lectures him — by turns." 41 How strange ! The winsome muse had vanished suddenly As she had come ; and, as she vanished, I could see My Alma Mater. Nothing loth, I followed all The Freshmen as they entered in the chapel hall. It seemed the opening of the term. How grand and vast The spacious nave! How altered, even since the last Of all our Class had lingered long for his degree ! Then rose the President and said, with dignity, " Young gentlemen, the goal to be attained in college Is not acquirement, accumulated knowledge. If any word can move you that your President Can say, then let your watchword be development y The Soph'more cheers rang out, echoing from wall to wall. And as the plaudits died away, I knew 'twas Hall. The vision here lost all coherence. In the trance I saw the reverend scholar lift his robes and dance. Midnight came down, and through the open door amain, And through the open windows came a ghostly train. My reason tottered at the dread, bewildering sight ; But as I watched their witches' dance, each sprite Took half-fantastic, half-familiar shape, and reeled About the chapel. Weirdly now the organ pealed As BOGERT touched the keys ; while Gilford on a goat Led off. MORRELL was coxswain of a ferry-boat. Vedder in major's uniform strode after. Blind Their pace ! GORDON upon a keg pressed hard behind. Little had drawn a knife, and seemed a wild garroter. Parker was dangling from a new aerial motor. Tuttle, an admiral, came next, his telescope Clasped in his hand. A shrieking song arose. I hope In all my life I ne'er shall hear the like again. " In heaven above, where all is love, The Faculty won't be there ! " My mind became unbalanced in the chaos. Then Hypnotic sleep became a swoon. I know not who Awakened me. I heard a voice say, " That will do." Presentation Qration BY WlLLARD QuNNlNGHAM 14^^^^^^^^ Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen : FOREMOST among the characteristics of the Class of Eighty-eight is one to which our historian, or perhaps the Class itself with him as its exponent, has not, in my opinion, given the prominence it justly deserves — I refer to its spirit of generosity. We have contributed liberally to all the athletic interests of the college ; we have each presented the college treasury with $15 in the shape of matriculation fees unfairly exacted during the last three years; we have furnished Professor Scribner with what each and all consider abundant funds for the establishment of his famous French library ; and while thus leaving traces of our beneficence upon all the institutions with which we have come into contact, we have never given ourselves a7iy- thing — not even credit for the spirit of liberality which has prompted us to give unto others. But to-day my classmates, or rather those of them who are especially deserving, will receive their reward. In con- sideration that they have given to the Class for four years, the Class will to-day manifest its gratitude by returning to those meriting this favor some substantial expression of its thanks. It will call them upon this platform, and here, in the presence of their relatives, friends, and acquaintances, will present them one by one with some gift symbolic of what are, in the general opinion of the Class, their most charac- teristic personal qualities, or some souvenir of deeds of theirs 43 which entitle them to memorable, if jocular, places in the unpublished annals of the Class History. You may observe, in accordance with what has just been said, that it is the Class that does all this, and not // for / am merely the faithful interpreter of the Class feeling. The responsibility for the appropriateness of the gifts will thus be seen to lie with him who pays for them ; and this, for- tunately, is done by the Class and not by me. The Class gives away the presents, the presentation orator gives away the men. Before commencing to do this I wish to point out one of the many difficulties which beset the presentation orator in the execution of his task. It is demanded, or at least expected, of him, that he shall be very funny and very satir- ical, and at the same time that his fun be of such a smooth and velvety nature as not to cause unpleasant friction against the sensitive epidermis of those at whose expense it is made. It is the forced attempt to reconcile these con- flicting qualities which robs the speaker of much of the interest which he might lend to his portion of the Class Day exercises, if left entirely to the dictates of his own fancy. For instance, it was my desire to give to one of my classmates, in commemoration of his absurd, yet partly justifiable, conduct of two years ago, a copy of Eighty-eight's Colnmbiady but it was urged that this might " hurt his feelings," and I had to give it up. To another member, who has kept up with his Class by trotting along on ponies ever since his admission to college, I wished to give a little horse. But because of the color of his hair I should have had to give him a white horse; and as this gentleman's father is a Trustee, and I have not yet received my diploma, prudence compels me to relinquish this design also. Fortunately, however, for the success of this occasion, I am not so embarrassingly situated with respect to all of those selected as participants in my bounties. For instance, although his bashfulness is well known, I have no hesitation 44 in calling upon Mr, Arthur Ayrault to head the list of the recipients of honors. Mr. Ayrault, your classmates have, ever since they first met you, regretted that you were endowed by nature with such a weak voice, or perhaps with insufficient energy to use the voice you have: some of them, because your speak- ing in very low tones when reciting made it extremely diffi- cult for them to hear the utterances of your wisdom ; and a still greater number because the indistinctness of your articulation rendered it impossible for them, while reading ahead with the aid of pony-leaves, to tell where you were reading or where you left off. In the interest, therefore, of those with whom you may associate in future, as I cannot present you with a whole new vocal apparatus, I give you this speaking-trumpet. I next take pleasure in introducing to you one of our most distinguished literary lights, Mr. Leander Hammer. Mr. Hammer's eloquent rhapsody on the girl of his affections, published a few weeks ago in the New York Press, may have aroused in many of you a desire to see the author; and as he is considered one of the handsomest men in our Class, it is a pleasure to show him to you. Mr. Hammer's chief claim to distinction, however, is that he was the first man in Eighty-eight to obtain a maximum mark in Anglo- Saxon ; and as this is doubtless the only max. he ever got, it has been a labor of love to procure for him a framed copy of the monthly report which first proclaimed to him and to the world the proud distinction he achieved My next present is a hat, and thereby hangs a tale. A little more than a year ago our Class ate a dinner at Maz- zetti's. As is customary on such occasions, we all had our hats and coats checked in the dressing-room before entering the banquet-hall ; and when on this occasion we were pre- paring, after the entertainment, to leave for our respective homes, when many hats seemed to be too small, it was found that one gentleman's hat had, by a waiter's carelessness, been crushed. It was a silk hat ; an eight dollar silk hat ; 45 and, what was more, it was the first silk hat its owner, Mr. Frank Hathaway, had ever worn, — the right to wear which, he had fought, bled, and died for on the College campus. So you can easily imagine that both his affection for the hat, and his anger at finding that the hat had been damaged, knew no bounds. He, of course, thought that Mazzetti ought to pay for it ; he brought the matter before the Class, the Class was divided on the subject, and a series of stormy de- bates ensued. The schism threatened to involve the college, and might, through the college, have involved the nation, had not Mr. Mazzetti agreed to buy Mr. Hathaway a new hat. But he kept the old one, and it was not until his death last summer, that I succeeded in obtaining it. Here it is, and I present it to Mr. Hathaway as a token of the good will and esteem of the Class. Speaking of hats suggests an appropriate transition to habiliments generally, apropos of which Mr. Aitken will please come upon the platform. Mr. Aitken was never known either to toil or to spin, yet I confidently assure you that Solomon in all his glory was never rigged out as Mr. Aitken frequently is. I present him with this fashion plate. Our modest man, as the historian told you, is Mr. Arthur Kane. Come right up here, Mr. Kane, look pleasant, and let the ladies and gentlemen see you. Don't blush ! Ah ! See? I knew you would, so I bought a fan for you, not quite large enough to hide your blushes, but the best I could do. In the competition for the honor of being thought the most modest man in the Class, Mr. Kane was very closely followed by Mr. Gilford. As Mr. Gilford is on the eve of joining the Seventh Regiment, and as his first name is Johnny, I will spare him one of the expenses necessarily attendant upon admission to that high-toned organization by presenting him with a gun. " Johnny, get your gun." The students in the School of Mines make a good deal of fun of the men in the Arts, whenever the latter pretend 46 to know anything whatever about any of the natural sciences. That they arc wholly unjustified in their derision was dem- onstrated a few months ago by Mr. Douglass Ewell in a remarkable, I may say epoch-making, series of experiments conducted in one of the Mines laboratories with a view to proving that carbonic acid gas is poisonous. He established this opinion by taking in his hand a live mouse, — I give him credit for courage if not for ingenuity, — holding him under water until he was dead, and then im- mersing him in carbonic acid gas. He observed that the mouse reviaincd dead, which proved, as he stated in his graduation thesis, that carbonic acid is poisonous. I present Mr. Ewell with this glass jar containing some COo and a mouse. If he will send them on to the Smithsonian Insti- tute at Washington, together with one of his autographs, who can doubt his everlasting notoriety as a scientist? The unanimous vote of the Class declares Harry Sill to be the bad boy. He is moreover the baby of the class, being the youngest member, so that I thought something of giving him a crib; but feared lest this might be misinter- preted, being in its metaphorical sense undeserved. Mr. Sill has not always been a bad boy : in fact, at one time he claimed to be a very good boy, and when he was a Freshman he was much shocked at the wickedness exhibited by the rest of us, especially by our disrespect for the Professor of English. So in company with a few other good boys he instituted a kind of detective agency for the purpose of discovering the most irreverent of us in order that we might be exposed and brought to justice. It is in commemoration of this very extraordinary attempt to counteract the wicked tendencies of his fellow-students that I give him this detec- tive's whistle. As a vivid contrast to the bad boy of the Class, I should like to introduce to you our goody-goody boy. In justice to Mr. George Warren, however, it is only fair to state that his extreme goodness is his only disagreeable quality, and that he is in other respects a sensible, manly fellow. For 47 instance, he was considered a sufficiently good athlete to be chosen on the crew, and a good enough singer to be appointed on the glee club ; but, finding that the boys in both of these organizations were not afraid to be boys and have a good time, he feared lest their evil communications might corrupt his extremely good manners, and felt it his duty to resign from both. Such simple unadulterated good- ness seems too good to be true, and as Mr. Warren will, perhaps, find some stimulant necessary in preparing his Commencement speech on the advantages of prohibition, I will provide for the contingency of his whisky giving out by presenting him now with a full bottle. There are two members of our Class whose graduation seems very doubtful, though if their claims to success may be measured by the money they have spent in attempting to succeed, they deserve to graduate more than any others. But while, undoubtedly, Mr. Simmons and Mr. Sloan have expended as much, or more, money on extra examination fees and in tutoring for the same, than most men do upon their entire college course, I place so little confidence in the justness of the college authorities, that it is to be feared that they are going to refuse these meritorious young men their diplomas. The Class of Eighty-eight, however, appre- ciates men at their true value, and when it sees that a young man is so enthusiastically fond of his studies as to take four or five examinations while most of* his classmates are glad to get off with one, it is unwilling to part from him without giving him some enduring token of its admiration. These scrolls very closely resemble diplomas ; they are just as large, and are made of just as good a quality of paper. The mere circumstance that they do not contain the signatures of the Faculty will be of little significance to those who, like the two gentlemen I have mentioned, are so truly great as to look with scorn upon the artificial honor of graduating from college. To Mr. Simmons and Mr. Sloan the Class presents these mock diplomas. When, a few weeks ago, the awards of fellowships were 48 announced, Mr. Charles Baldwin was appointed English tutor for 1889 for the young ladies in the Collegiate Course for Women. I do not know whether, in order to make this course more attractive to young ladies, it is a provision of the college statutes that the instructors shall be required to wear mustaches ; but it is a significant fact that since the day on which Mr. Baldwin was appointed to this office he has changed his custom, and not shaved his upper lip. As the desired mustache is slow in attaining visibility, the Class presents Mr. Baldwin with this bottle of hair invigorator. I was for a long time at a loss to know what to do about a present for Mr. Villaverde, for I know that he ex- pected something from the Class ; and at the same time I was sure that the Class would be unwilling to spend any money on him. At last I found something that would fit him exactly ; it didn't cost anything, and yet if he especially values it, he can have it gilded and wear it as a scarf-pin. It is a carpet-tack. Mr. Villaverde is, in one respect at any rate, like truth. Truth cannot be suppressed ; " when crushed to earth, 'twill rise again." So will Mr. Villaverde. You caiit sit on him, and as this is one of the characteristic features of a carpet-tack, this article will be a fit symbol of the esteem in which he is held by the Class. Our historian has informed you that the man who can talk the most and say the least is Mr. Frank Armitage Wilcox. It is true that Mr. Wilcox is very fond of arguing, and it was for a long time a subject of surprise that he did not belong to any of the college debating societies, — until it was found that he constituted a debating society, of which he was the sole member. Then arose the question, what to give him on Class Day. It was suggested that he be pre- sented with a phonograph, but it seemed dangerous to give him anything that could talk back, so something else had to be found. Mr. Wilcox is an earnest student of philosophy (which, as you know, is all talk), and was extremely vexed because Professor Alexander, who occupies the Chair of 49 Philosophy, failed to come to college during the blizzard from his home in Hoboken. He went to President Barnard and complained that he was not getting his money's worth. Of course his fellow-students, who think a professor is com- mendable in proportion to the number of his absences from college, made a great deal of fun of him ; but the presenta- tion orator, in proof of his admiration for Mr. Wilcox's zeal and independence, has provided for him the handsomest and most expensive present bestowed to-day, — a life-sized portrait of the professor so dear to Mr. Wilcox's affections. The most popular class in college is, in the opinion of the Seniors, the Class of Ninety. It is a custom, or at any rate it will undoubtedly become a custom because Eighty-eight has inaugurated it, for the graduating class to give some token of its admiration to the most popular of the three classes remaining in college. The Class of Eighty-nine owes us $5.75, for which I have in my hand the bill. It gives me pleasure to present the Sophomores with this claim against the Juniors. When Eighty-nine graduates it can present them with the money. Now, ladies and gentlemen, my gifts have, with one ex- ception, all been distributed. The cornucopia of Eighty- eight's bounty is nearly exhausted. It contains, like Pandora's box, but one gift more — hope. And for all its members, assembled for the last time within these walls, the Class of Eighty-eight hopes success and happiness in the life of activity on which they are about to enter. Qlass O^^ Tune.— "The Old Oaken Bucket." THOUGH never again in thy halls, Alma Mater, Thy sons' loyal voices in chorus shall swell ; Yet we in our song on this day of departure Shall surely give voice to no strain of farewell. Though forth from thy aegis our destiny call us, From thee ne'er in spirit can we parted be ; Where'er we may wander, our hearts in remembrance Will longingly, lovingly turn back to thee. In years yet to come with what sweet recollection Our mem'ry will turn to the happy days here. And viewing their joys after life's weary struggle We'll find the remembrance more sacred and dear. Thy fostering spirit will ever brood o'er us. And guided our lives by its lessons shall be. And we, ever loyal, shall yield, Alma Mater, Our hearts' best affection and homage to thee. Lawrence Crawford Reamer. (Commencement Qay June 13, i Orations Greek Salutatory Oration, . Clarence Hoffman Young. Latin Oration, " De Re Publica Romana," Henry Augustus Sill. Man Thinking, . . . Jarvis Rose Fairchild. Our Political Situation, George Flint Warren, Jr. Valedictory Oration, . . Hampton Denman Ewing. Committee James Jay Mapes, Chairman ; SCHOOL OF MINES Jerome William Frank, Lancaster Morgan, Arthur A. Stoughton, Joseph Brown Taylor, SCHOOL OF ARTS Henry Sleeper Harper, Arthur Kane, Goodhue Livingston, George Marvine Tuttle, Edwin Van Dyck, Grand Marshall. 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