Latin School of Chicago - Sigillum Yearbook (Chicago, IL)

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Down The Years HAVEN A. REQUA Haven ReQua, ,I2, Yale '16, editor of Folio and Sigillum, is now the president of the Standard Fuel Company. A short time back, I received a letter from the Editor of the SIGILLUM, and although I didn,t in the least want to answer it I had to, for the communication was written so delicately and worded so tactfully it would have been churlish to ignore it. The letter said that an anniversary number of the SIGILLUM was about to appear practically any moment and, as an old editor of that dis- tinguished publication, would I please take pen in hand and dash off something bright and sparkling-preferably along reminiscent lines? Much, much easier said than done. Ought I to dish out some rugged homily about the Spartan virtues of the old days, when I thought I was going to be a permanent, all-time member of the Junior Class? Even my Mother admits I wasnit a very good stu- dent. While I cannot prove it, I am reliably informed that the great and good R. P. Bates said that, in his opinion, the only way to get me out of school was to burn it down. In his quaint way he added be thought it would be worth it. The fact that the faculty finally shoe-horned me successfully through my college examinations should be a lasting monument to those stout-hearted men of iron, for what they did was no mean job. To get on with my reminiscing, I wish I could give you a graphic description of the ceremonies that took place in the old school the day the whale oil lamps were reverently laid aside for the last time to make way for newfangled kerosene illumination, or of the many times the Latin School boys had to run for their lives to avoid the milling herds of buffalos when they came charging down Division from cff the prairies slightly west of Clark Street. Those days are pretty far in the past but I can, I think, remember them quite clearly, for at about the same time I was just entering upon my career as a permanent Junior. Back, in those bygone days, there was an establishment named I-Iousman's, diagonally across from the School, on the southwest corner of Division and State. This place was dear to all of us little urchins, principally because we were absolutely forbidden to go near it, for Mr. I-Iousman, the proprietor, was an eminent saloonist and presided over one of the best bars in town. In fact, at that time there was no Racquet Club, so it was a common sight, along about three or four in the afternoon, to see any number of tired

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Memories llf llld latin TAPPAN GREGORY Tappan Gregory, '06, Yale ,IO, lawyer and naturalist, Mr. Gregory has de- voted some time and energy to the investigation of the different types of the vanishing timber wolves, about which he has lectured before various scientific societies. I well remember when the two school magazines were started, and the early struggles to make them live and succeed. I have recently looked at city directories for Chicago in the decade before the turn of the century, and find the Chicago Latin School so listed for the first time in 1897. It was then at 596 Division Street. In that year and in that building I attended my first class at the school. I think my impressions of that day are nearly as clear now as they were at the time. Miss Burrell was in charge of the grade, and I have always been grateful for her efforts to make things pleasant for a new boy who was quite overcome with shyness. From then until June of IQO6 I attended no other school except for a part of one year. The four years of college which followed and subsequent years in law school were comparatively easy after the thorough and effective preparation accomplished at the Latin School under the sympathetic and intelligent guidance of Mr. Bates and Miss Vickery and their admirable staff. Their intellect and understanding made themselves felt throughout the school. No problem troubling the mind of a boy was too insignificant or un- important to receive considerate attention and Wise counsel. For their many kindnesses to me I shall always be greatly in their debt. I am sure all of the best traditions of the old administration have been carried on by the new. I am sorry that I am so much out of touch that I really do not know whether any of the old staff remains. I remember with much pleasure and satisfaction the capable instruction of such excellent teachers as Mr. Bosworth, Mr. McLeod, Mr. Whiting, Mr. E. A. Bates and Miss Crocker, to say nothing, of course, of the principals themselves. So you see the old school has always been to me a real alma mater. I wish I had the time and talent to write more and express better what I feel so strongly. I do appreciate this opportunity to send you this word of greeting and congratulations and to wish you all, and the school, the best of luck.

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SIGILLUM business men come up from their boiler shops and blast furnaces on LaSalle Street and stop off at I-Iousman's for a quiet snort. Anyway, old Mr. Housman was one of those sterling characters who believed that a little draught beer, now and then, was good for the growing boy and made him big and strong. I, of course, agreed with him, as I was but a spindling youth, and yearned for weight and muscle. The faculty, however, looked upon the good Mr. Housman as a low fellow at best, and put a notice up on the bulletin board advising any and all of the young health seekers, via the beer route, that they would be summarily expelled, fired, bounced and tossed out on their little pink ears if they were caught anywhere near the place. You can well imagine how discouraging all this was, but we were quite philosophical about it--expecially as we soon found a back entrance, so located that we could go in and out practically unobserved. We often wondered why we never met any of the faculty there but, being precocious lads, we soon concluded they gave their patronage to a place further up the street, and not so near the School. Everything went swimmingly until a day one, Freddie Ridgeway, came down with the most grievous toothache--so severe that anything but liquid nourish- ment made him shudder and quake, in fact, to hear him tell it, he had the grandfather of all toothaches. We knew, of course, that Mr. I-Iousman dispensed free lunch in a princely style and we remembered, with innocent pleasure, his excellent hot soup. It was suggested, therefore, and purely from a humanitarian standpoint, that Freddie be escorted to the hot soup and there be allowed to absorb as much as his delicate condition permitted. Three of us went with him, and after our errand of mercy had been concluded we left. Due to carelessness, or perhaps lulled by a feeling of false security because we had only had soup, we left the place by the front door, instead of the back entrance, and we were all caught redhanded and FIRED. You can well imagine how our manly bosoms burned with the injustice done us. Here we were, just as innocent as a nest of Easter eggs-this once anyway-and fired for going on an errand of mercy to help a stricken pal. Not only that, but before we could be re- instated in School we each had to bring a parent back with us to vouch for our future, virtuous behavior. This was indeed a delicate and painful matter, as the authorities well know, and I can only hope the others got by with it as easily as I was able to--thanks to very understanding parents. No mention can possible be made of the old School without an effectionate and respectful reference to that hearty faculty in charge of us little ruffians. How the faculty were able to stand us, I shall never know. I sometimes think if a chemist got one of our teachers and made a careful analysis he would find the makeup ran to large percentage of unflagging patience, kindness and indomitable will to