Dickinson College - Microcosm Yearbook (Carlisle, PA)

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blade of grass on the campus was harmed by the invader from the Southland. Since those days, the old College has marched from victory to victory. During the administration of President McCauley, co-eds made their appearance upon the campus. This awoke the anger of old Dr. Harman, who for so many years put Dickinsonians through a course of sprouts in Greek and Hebrew. The co-eds have very magnanimously named their literary society after the one who would have closed the doors of the College upon them. The material equipment of the College has constantly interim- view-nom: Hall. increased. South College was built in 1834. This building would make a magnificent appearance if it were where nobody could see it. East College was built in 1836, and throughout all these years has given its inhabitants ample opportunity to develop into good track men, since they get exercise ad vzauseam, climbing its five Hights of stairs. Tome, Bosler, and Denny, which as old West had done a century before, rose from its ashes like a rejuvenated Phoenix, are evidence that to-day Dickinson is making history as truly as she did in the past. But no sketch of Dickinson would be worth while unless it at least noted the mighty part which the two old literary societies have played in the history of this venerable institution. The Belles-Lettres Society was founded in 1786, and the U. P. three years later. They have grown up with the College and are one of the most important factors in college life, and have ever furnished embryo orators many opportunities to orate on The Roman Eagle, The Starry Flag, The glories of our nations, and also upon what Ben Tillman calls the general cursedness of things in general. Nevertheless, in giving honor where honor is due we must not forget that these literary societies have been the main instrumentality in developing the orators who have made Dickinson famous. Now, gentle reader, it is time for the historian to lay aside his pen, send his history to the press, and receive the congratulations of his admiring friends. Our history, as you may readily see, is very incoherent, but we received our coher- ence diploma long, long ago, at the end of our Freshman year. We have merely taken a little journey through the past, but more than ever before do we feel proud that we are Dickinsonians. Our love for this, our old college, is deeper and stronger, our appreciation of the lives and sacrifices of those who have made its history is more earnest and sincere, and the more we know of our College I the greater is our love for it, and through lifc and unto death we pledge our allegiance to old Dickinson. Library View- Bosler Hall.

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widening usefulness. The first Methodist president was the eloquent John P. Durbin. One day, after President Durbin had preached to the Congress of the United States, Henry Clay said to him, Never preach again, for neither you nor any other man can surpass that. One of Dr. Durbin's successors was Dr. Peck, Jesse T. Peck, S. T. D., LL. D., president of Dickinson College, as he , .-, . . . t often pompously introduced himself. Dr. Peck afterwards became 1 a bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church, but it is not for that the average Dickinsonian remembers him. His name for all times will be associated in the annals with that of Moncure D. Conway. Dr. Conway is one of Dickinson's most illustrious sons, but it is not for his achievements in the world of letters that we most frequently think of him, but Dr. Conway's greatest feat, in the eyes of the twentieth century Dicksonian, was the practical joke which he played upon Dr. Peck. Dr. Peck was going to Staunton, Va., to attend a conference. It happened that there was an insane asylum at Staunton. Taking advantage of these circumstances, Conway sent a message to the head of the asylum, warning him that an insane man with a bald head and a big paunch was going to Staunton. Everything worked well, President Peck went to Staunton. The head of the asylum met him, and the distinguished president of Dickinson spent several exceedingly uncomfortable hours in the asylum. Dr. Conway says that when over a century afterwards he visited the U. P. Literary Society, this was the first thing of which the society wished to hear him speak. After Dr. Peck resigned, Chas. Collins, D. D., became president. President Collins was a rigid disciplinarian. Upon one occasion, however, the students prevented him from holding the usual chapel service. The campus had been mowed for commencement. All night the students toiled like beavers, and when the faculty went to chapel in the morning they found it transformed into a hay mow. If only the walls of Old West and Old East could speak, what stories they could tell us of midnight spreads, of the hot cannon ball which the professors used to catch hold of as it rolled through, of West College, of the old bell which refused to ring because it was minus rope or clapper, of the buckets of water that have been poured from its windows upon the unwary passerby, but the old college has stood through it all. Although the tide of rebellion surged to its very doors, not one 16 Jacob Tome Scientific Building. Old South College.

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The Confessions of an Eavesdropper. e, n T'S been so long, that I can scarcely be held for all the details, and if my memory fails me altogether at times, I shall have to supply the vacancies from n1y imagination. I do, however, remember that it all ocurred one sultry, unseasonable, midwinter night, during my Junior year. I even recollect how I had been spending the evening, for that had a direct bearing on what was to follow, which was so remarkable and unusual. QI don't know who teaches Psychology there now, but when I went, it was old Dr. Gooding. He was a great one to relate all your thoughts in mental chains, so to speak, as it were, in the main. If he's still alive, he'1l rejoice to feel that some of his sound precept still lingers in the dusty brain cells of an old grad J. But to resume. You see I'm getting so old and feeble now, that it's most difficult for me to pin my attention continuously upon a single subject, but I shall make my best attempt. Let's see. O yes, I was stating that I even remembered what I'd been doing that evening. Well, I had been over to the Library and while rummaging among some antique volumes, had found one by an old German scholar of the Sixteenth Century. It was, I saw, a book of necromancy, in which were set forth such curious and altogether novel ideas, that I took it to my room, though its poor, old back was sadly broken and the dust of many decades was clinging to its edges. One thing he asserted that I had never heard nor even thought of before-a belief that there was a certain degree of animation in apparently lifeless objects, and that doubtless they held communion with each other, according to a method of their own. l It -was late or rather early as I emerged onto the campus to get a breath of fresh air before retiring. My head was teeming with the novel speculations of my German friend, and I suppose for that reason the great, shining clock in Denny Tower looked really human as it pointed to half-past one-time for all well intentioned folks to be in bed. The clock was right, for no one but burglars, drunks and Sophomores were expected to be seen upon, the campus at such a witching time of night. Of cou'rse, there was old Robert too, but he doesn't deserve a place in such an infamous category as I have made, for he always wore a policeman's uniform, and by the warning glow of his cigar, told prowlers the way not to go. Even as I stood there, I saw him enter his room and slam the door, and I knew that he had yielded to the desire for jes one little snooze. Old West, We Love Thee.