Your deeds shall ever be as flames, Go! battle stoutly for the Truth. The Second Scene of the Second Act of Twelfth Night followed Col. Wheelwright's Poem, with this cast: The entertainment concluded with various specialties by former Pudding "Stars" G. B. Elliott, L. S., "The Living Calliope ; " G. K. Bell, '93, "Our College Phonograph," imitations of Professors Norton, Royce, and Wendell; E. J. Wendell, '82, "A Model College President," from Dido and Æneas; B. P. Cheney, Jr., '90, Black Face Song and Dance; Professor Llednew Bocaj (J. Wendell, Jr., '91), The Human Barnyard. The performance went off with much spirit, and with such unexampled punctuality, that the curtain fell before eleven o'clock. But it was long after midnight before the graduates had finished their pudding, their songs and stories. Saturday forenoon there was again music in the theatre, and a concourse of old and young in all parts of the club-house. In the afternoon most of them witnessed the football game on Soldier's Field, Harvard being beaten by the University of Pennsylvania, 14 to 17. At 8 P. M. all who had been fortunate enough to buy tickets assembled at the Hotel Vendome, Boston, and sat down to dinner half an hour later. At the central round table sat the Hon. Joseph H. Choate, '52, the presiding officer; Dr. Morrill Wyman, '33,—the oldest graduate present at the dinner and at the play the night before; Ex-Gov. W. E. Russell, '77; Bishop W. Lawrence, '71; Lemuel Hayward, '45; Prof. B. A. Gould, '44; Austin G. Fox, '69; Sherman Hoar, '82; C. F. Choate, '49; H. L. Higginson, ['55]; J. C. Gray, '59; Francis Rawle, '69; J. C. Ropes, '57; G. W. Green, '76; Henry D. Sedgwick, '43; Joseph Peabody, '44; C. F. Adams, '56; G. S. Hale, '44; N. P. Hallowell, '61; Judge Nathaniel Holmes, '37; Henry Williams, '37. About quarter past ten, when the number of the 450 diners had been increased by scores of other Pudding men who came to hear the speaking, Mr. Choate rose and said: "As the boys seem to want something to sing, I will give them something to sing, an old Pudding song, written by that brave Pudding man and noble graduate, Theodore Lyman. Mr. Charles Read - Charlie Read of the Class of '64-will come forward and lead the tune." Before singing, Mr. Read gave the following account of the song: : 66 'Many years ago, when I had the honor to be President of this Club, in the old library I found the words of this song which is found on our table to-night. It came into great favor with my class, and for 10 or 15 years it was sung at nearly all the gatherings of the Club during that time. Since then it has dropped almost completely out of sight. It is a song that belongs to the Hasty Pudding Club. I think it is a pity that it should be lost. It has great value for one reason. There has been discussion when this Club was founded. If you will look at the words of this song you will find that the Club was founded by a Puritan and a 'Choctaw Indian.' THE PUDDING SONG. Long since, when our forefathers landed To search through the wild woods for corn. But, within finding Indian maize, Chorus. (Repeat last two lines.) Quoth Standish, "Right hard have we toil-ed; A pudding shall quickly be boil-ed, To slaughter those corn-stealing men. "Ha! vile pagan," the Captain quoth he, We ne'er will acknowledge the corn." The victor triumphantly grasp-ed "Be converted,” the good Standish said, Tho' on boiled you thus far have been fed, Then straight was the savage baptiz-ed With a chorus of "Hey-rub-a-dub,” And, amid gentle music's soft charm, Was founded THE GREAT PUDDING CLUB. When quiet was again restored, Mr. Choate said: MR. CHOATE'S SPEECH. "Before I begin my centennial speech, which will be very long and will run over very far into the second century of the Club's history, I have a sentiment to propose. We have with us a brother who has been a member of the Pudding for sixty-four years. If there is any virtue in pudding, he has eaten more of it and digested it better than all the rest of us together. I propose the health of Dr. Morrill Wyman of the Class of '33." Dr. Wyman rose from the seat of honor which he occupied, and after the cheers and strains of "Jolly Good Fellow" had died away, he assured his brethren that the years had passed pleasantly, and that his most cherished recollections brought with them memories of happy hours spent among his fellows of the Hasty Pudding Club. "There will be no regular speeches to-night," Mr. Choate continued, after this pleasant little episode was over. "I wish to read a message of long standing from New York. It came to us thirty-five years before the founding of the Pudding. It came from a great man, who was considering whether to send his son, his only son, to Yale or to Harvard College. It was no less a man than Mr. Lewis Morris, who, in 1760, made his last will and testament, a single passage of which I desire to read to you because it will appeal so strongly to the heart of every Harvard man. "It is my desire that my son, Gouverneur Morris, may have the best education that is to be had in England or America. But my express will and directions are that he be never sent for that purpose to the colony of Connecticut.' Now hear his reasons. See how good they hold to-day. "Lest he should imbibe in his youth that low craft and cunning so incident to the people of that country which is so interwoven in their constitution that all their arts cannot disguise it from the world, tho' many of them, under the sanctifyed garb of religion, have endeavored to impose themselves on the world for honest men.' "Now, brethren, a word of explanation. When I came here this evening I found that no arrangement had been made as to who should sit at the central table, and I took the liberty of inviting these venerable men around me, and VOL. IV. NO. 15. 26 I followed the old rule of the Pudding, that the members should enter the banquet hall and take rank according to the years of their respective classes, as Lowell laid down in his essay, the traditional rule that prevailed at the time-honored Commencement Dinner, that those should have the best chance to eat the dinner who had the poorest teeth to eat with, and the poorest ears to hear the speeches withal. "Now a word about my own Class. We had the greatest Crocodile in our Class that ever was known in the history of the College. The Crocodile is the very keynote of the Pudding. It establishes the best feeling between the Faculty and the Club itself. Our Crocodile has become the Royall Professor of Law, and he is the best example of it. How he lampooned his predecessors in the chair, and how since he became a Professor has he been basted in turn! I remember a stanza on Professors Felton and Horsford as if it had been uttered but yesterday : 'There's something in Professor Horsford, Something in a fat Feltoon But naught care I for boy or gal, Alligator and Gridiroon.' 'My first duty is to tell how deeply sensible I am of the honor that you have conferred upon me in asking me to preside over your deliberations this evening. It is an honor that can come only once in a hundred years. It came in a most opportune time for me as testifying to the respect that the rising generation entertain for those of us who are passing on in years. I had just read in a New York newspaper that some of the younger legal lights had spoken of Mr. Carter and Mr. Choate as moss-grown hold-overs' who must soon yield their places to younger and better men. "It is not the first time that I have had a difficult honor thrust upon me by the Pudding. In 1851 I was enrolled among its lyric poets, and then, as Horace said he should do under similar circumstances, I struck the stars with my head sublime. But the stars were not disturbed. I had a big head for a few days in consequence, but nothing else came of it. I suppose that I am expected to strike the keynote upon this occasion. I hardly know how to touch the chord that runs through all your hearts to-night. So many great writers have foreshadowed the spirit of the Pudding! Shall I borrow from the mouth of Falstaff the words of the divine William: 'Mine hostess, clap to the doors: watch to-night, pray to-morrow. Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles of good-fellowship come to you! What, shall we be merry? shall we have a play extempore?' “Or shall I draw upon the chaster language of Milton, who invented the most excellent motto that could be applied to the Pudding: 'Mirth, admit me of thy crew, To live with her and live with thee, In unreproved pleasures free.' "Or what will you say to the words of our own American bard, who, as tradition tells us, first suggested the idea of the foundation of the Pudding : — 'I sing the joys I know, the charms I feel, My morning incense, and my evening meal; The sweets of Hasty Pudding: Come, dear bowl, Glide o'er my palate, and inspire my soul.' "Or better yet, shall I recall the Initiation as it was in my day: 'Sociability, sirs, is the source of the most delightful pleasures! By it the most distressing occurrences of life are effectually alleviated!' "However we may approach it, this Centennial is a great event, and never was there an association of men who had so good a right to have a good time as this Club to-night. A century looks down into the genial pot and finds it still simmering and bubbling and singing and gurgling with the same merry and jocund note that it sent forth when Horace Binney and John C. Warren first ladled out its contents to soothe the stomachs and the souls of the Founders: Seges votis respondet!' The modern graduate will pardon my archaic pronunciation. I wish to be understood by my contemporaries and to arouse their torpid minds and slumbering memories. Let me translate 'The Harvest responds to the vows and the prayers of the planters.' "Great men, good men are said to be the treasures of the State. They are the very mile-stones of the Pudding's century. I mean not those rare Sons of Genius of whom each generation produces hardly one; but men of mark and spirit and character who make the world better by living in it. Of our dead brethren we may freely speak, but only of one living man. For how is our present membership composed? It rests upon the solid foundation of immortal youth, in the persons of the present ruling Class, and tier above tier the older Classes rise from the base, each, alas, growing sadly smaller. As it approaches the top the pyramid tapers to a swift point, and there upon the summit, standing alone in his glory — and it is a great glory we behold a noble figure, our oldest living brother, William Henry Furness, who for three quarters of this century that we celebrate has embodied as perfectly as any man could, all the virtues of the Pudding, - courage, faith, hope, charity, brotherly love, good temper, and fun. Think of him this very week at the age of ninety-three preaching in New York the gospel of humanity, as fresh and sweet and genial as when he was initiated in 1819. Long may he live to enjoy his well-earned honors! We meet to-night to celebrate the Founders, and placed where I am, I have a duty to perform to them to rescue their memories from a most unjust aspersion which has been cast upon them by a too literal rendering of their own records, which has come from not reading between the lines, as it is the mission of history to do. It has been said that the origin of the Club was in the stomachs of the hungry undergraduates of 1795, to eke out the scanty fare of the College Commons, as if they moulded better than they knew, and had no thought of the great boon they were conferring on their successors and posterity in Harvard. Think of such men as William Ellery Channing and Washington Allston seeking mere corporal and carnal delight, in assisting to lay in the human stomach the foundations of a column that was to endure for centuries. "No, it was not their starved bodies, but their hungry souls they were feeding, when they kindled the first fire that crackled beneath the pot. They had |