McGill University - Old McGill Yearbook (Montreal Quebec, Canada)

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{Continued Jrom f age 24) cabarets, etc., and consequently evenings were spent mostly in private houses. Mrs. Jones and her daughters were at home on Tuesday evenings, the Browns on the second and fourth Thursdays. Friends would turn up, and then there would be a discussion as to what form of amusement should be chosen. Cards, dancing, with one of the young people playing the piano, songs round the piano, etc., would be engaged in; but that winter, if the evening were a fine one. some one was likely to suggest that we walk downtown and see those new electric lights! And out a lot of us would troop. We were not afraid of walking in those days; unless you were a plutocrat, you called for your young lady and walked her to the dance-there were no electric cars, and the horse-cars were slow and far between. Besides, if you had the right girl, what could be nicer than a walk on a fine evening! Of course, the city was very small then, and if you had to see some one, who was not the right one, home to Westmount, you felt aggrieved. Students who did not live at home roomed round the city and ate at boarding houses. There was only one restaurant uptown west of the Main Street ; but a Mrs. Barr gave meals in a little house on the south side of Burnside Street, just west of McGill College Avenue, and a great many students ate there — there were regular relays. And Mrs. Barr was one of the salt of the earth, taking care of students who were ill, and doing all sorts of kind things. When she finally became incapacitated, one or two of her old boarders, who had become prac- tising physicians, etc., undertook to look into her finances and, to anything but the honour of those she had befriended, they found that large sums of money were still owing to her for meals, but were able to trace and collect from only a few of the delinquents. The University Library was on the ground floor of the Molson Hall ; the books were all in ordinary, though handsome, bookcases, in alcoves, in each of which there was a table. There was no stack. The Librarian was a gentleman prematurely old, having lost his health during some years of residence in a tropical jungle. He was a sad man, though obliging enough, and always seemed more or less unhappy when any one wanted to use the books. However, he was not very often intruded upon — the use of the library had not been inculcated as it is today— there were few, if any, graduate students, and no one thought of using the alcoves just for study purposes. Above the Library was the Molson Hall itself, used not only for such mournful things as examinations, as already mentioned, but for gay conversaziones and uproarious convocations. During my time the behaviour at these last mentioned functions became so outrageous that a solemn warning was given that, unless there was a very decided decrease in noise, smashing of benches, etc., degrees would thereafter be conferred in private. As it was recognised that the threat was intended to be carried out, there was a decided improvement in behaviour. The Professor of German occupied a small room ofif the Library. He was a tall, elderly m an, with a long grey beard, and enjoyed bad health. His classes, which were very small, were not in the least exciting, and somnolence was more or less epidemic. Unfortunately, the fur nishings of the room consisted of a few of the horse-hair covered benches from the Con- vocation Hall upstairs; and, as these were very slippery, and as there were no tables or desks, cases of incipient sliding ofif the seats were not uncommon. Very different was it in the classroom of the French Professor. He was a more or less fiery individual, and many were the scorching comments made on behaviour in that room. A few observant students had noticed that when the pot was coming to the boil little drops of perspiration appeared on his smoothly-shaven upper lip. And then who so pious as those front benchers, the scathing denunciations passing over their scandalized heads and falling on the unfortunates behind. But, alas and alack, a year or two later the Professor decided to wear a moustache — and how the classes fared after that I do not know. In the fall of 1884, just fifty years ago, women students were first admitted to the sacred precincts. During the previous session there had been a very serious discussion in the Men ' s {Continued on ticige IS 2) 27

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SOUVENIR HALLS OF SCIENCE THE AVENUE MEDICAL BUILDING NA » NTER THE CAI PUS