Fordham University - Maroon Yearbook (New York, NY)

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494 The Fordham Monthly during the action of the play, an extraordinary feat, now that the days of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” are past. .However, extraordinary feats are nothing to the class of T5. Were it not that the chronicler of these deeds is cramped for time and writing this article under pressure, he would fill reams upon reams of paper in the recountance of the glories of ’15, he would write till his fingers became numb with exhaustion and his eyelids wagged with tiredness. But it is not given him thus to fatigue himself, and the eager public must rest content with this meagre retailing of '15's accomplishments. To some this article may seem a manifestation of pavonian conceit and blatant braggadocio. If by conceit is meant a correct estimation of self, if by braggadocio is meant the showing forth of shining deeds that have too long been hidden from the public view by the bushels of an ill-advised modesty and a blush fully reticent nature,—we plead guilty. “Let your light shine before man,” saieth the Scriptures. We always obey the Scripture. Behold then the class that broke two legs in the cause of Varsity baseball; that spilt much life-gore, shattered many molars, and sustained a multiplicity of contusions and abrasions in order that Alma Mater might be triumphant on the gridiron! Behold the class that knew no Vanquisher! Behold the class that was the backbone of the Monthly, the class that ever took the lead in Dramatics! First in Debate! First in Oratory! First in---------- We were going to perorate, but we just recalled an incident which involves a compliment of which we are most justly proud. On a certain day in spring a year or so ago, the boys of a co-edu-cational high school came up to play the Prep; the girls came up to lend their moral support. At that time we happened to be busy in our scientific researches in the laboratory, and thus lost the opportunity to see the game. It was all over just when we finished, and as we streamed out of the Science Building, little cries of admiration and amazement issued from the fair co-eds. And at the very moment when we the class of 1915 were passing into the Gym, I heard her who was evidently the leader of this vast bevy of females cry out in awe-struck tones: “Ah, so bright,—so good,— so bkautifui, !” Cyrii, B. Egan, ’15.

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1915 Class Chronicle 493 the Democratic Mayoralty candidate. The Fusionists won. Under the auspices of the Alumni, the Fordham From took place in February, managed from its business side by the Juniors. For the first time the Prom was staged in the Grand ball-room of the Astor and this venture made it the greatest social and financial success that this dance has ever been. In April, the Junior class held its banquet at the Martinique, and in the same month Pete Dooling broke a leg sliding to first in the Cornell game. During the month of May, Patterson was again elected class president, the Juniors gave the only public specimen circle given in Fordham, and as a grand finale a battle royal was staged, in which Bob Murray, Lester Patterson, Jim Duffy, John Douds, and Reggie Mendes endeavored in a friendly way to dismember each other. No decision was given, but Duffy seemed to have the best of it. Senior, 1914-1915. Fr. Hill took care of us in our Senior year, and if it were permitted us to characterize him in the less elegant speech of colloquialism, we would call him a “good fellow ’ a “prince ' Mr. Kelly undertook, in his own illuminative and interesting manner, to show us the way the stars go. We hate to brag, but the way we have gone through this Senior year is a shame. A Senior won the debating medal in the person of Paddy Macaulay, a Senior won the Preliminary Peace Contest—Walter Lynch. A Senior, Walter Black, won the Oratorical Contest; and it was a trio wholly composed of ’15 men that defeated the Varsity Debating Team of C. C. N. Y. On the gridiron, Rice gave a rare exhibition of Celtic pluck, Kane dazzled with his spectacular end-runs, and Conklin went down to Georgetown and out-gamed and out-played a man twice his size. On the ball field, it was Kane again who “pulled” a “Jack Murray” in the game with Notre Dame, and who, at West Point, ran far back into the outfield, leaped five feet in the air, and tore a chunk out of the azure emphyrean in a frantic and successful attempt to spear one of Coffin’s stinging homers. Eddie Egan bore off the Tango Championship to demonstrate our supremacy in the field of fine arts, and Paul Lannin’s Portrait of a Philosopher Contemplating a Square Meal was admitted for exhibition in the Royal Academy. In theatricals, we had Paddy Macaulay playing the part of “Orsino” in such a way as to make Hackett turn green with envy; we had a supernumerary force recruited entirely from the Senior class; and in the spring play we had Harry Crocker doubling as a scene-shifter between the acts and as a galley-slave

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Columbia 495 Columbia AIL, goddess fair, O'er freedom's land presiding. Midst happy folk abiding, Hail! Beneath thy rule, no curse Of war can hurrid trumpet blare, Nor wrinkled care Oppress us. Oh, guide our destiny aright; Bless us With all prosperity; Nor with temerity Let any foe assail our might! E. R. M., 15.