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From
the Archives In 1897
Andrew B. Graves '92S and Dan
I, his lusty English bulldog,
set out for a trip around the world, but when they reached British
shores the dog was stricken. His mortal remains were returned to
the United States, while the American press widely lamented his
passing. "In personal appearance he seemed like a cross between
an alligator and a horned frog, and he was called handsome by the
metaphysicians under the law of compensation," eulogized the Hartford
Courant. "The title came to him; he never sought it. He was
always taken to games on a leash, and the Harvard football team
for years owed its continued existence to the fact that the rope
held."
As there is no neat way of expressing the number 250 in Latin, there has been some discussion of what is the best name for Yale's anniversary this year. Most of us would cherish an expression showing a Latin derivation. The word centennial was used in 1801, sesquicentennial in 1851, and bicentennial in 1901. But in 1951 would anyone like the Latin flavor of the phrases "duo-semis-centenary" or "semi-quin-centennial," which are proper but clumsy. The somewhat
dignified term "quarter millenial anniversary" may appeal to many,
or simply "the 250th anniversary." A non-graduate has suggested
that we coin the expression "the 250th Yalennial," which, at least,
would be completely our own.
As you
can imagine, the streets around the University are now crowded with
both officers and men.
Before they left, late in August, there were over 100 Army officers
studying Italy and the Mediterranean. There are, of course, the
officers who command the ASTP and the AAFTC and the V-12. There
are also nearly 5000 men in uniform. The result is that Elm Street
and York Street are veritable forests of flailing arms and an officer
who walks from Mory's
to Yale Station generally has to salute 50 times at least. The officers
are not too fond of this but the enlisted men like it fine.
The rebellion
of the Commons in 1828 was variously dubbed the Bread and Butter
Rebellion and "Stomach War."
Outside grievances now appear to have been at the root of the sedition
and bad fare more or less secondary. However that may be, the three
lower classes seceded from the Commons and voted in a noisy mass
meeting to "cut" every college exercise also until the evils were
redressed. There had been, as alleged, wormy cabbage at the Commons.
This explains a banner borne in procession, along with a petition,
to President Day's study, depicting a big cabbage and worm and carrying
also the couplet: "Oh who, save with a quaking heart e'er looked/On
wormy cabbage though by Homer cooked." |
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Yale
Alumni Magazine, PO Box 1905, New Haven, CT 06509-1905. USA.
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