Another group of us—August Belmont, Herbert Wadsworth, etc., who cared for paintings—started the Art Club. There was money in this crowd, and I was taken in only because they thought I could draw and could be useful. This was the first indication of a desire for the fine arts in the college. I was much disappointed when I got back from Europe in ’91 to find that all the first books, records, and lists of members that I, as secretary, had started, had been either lost or destroyed. But the club had increased in outward show, even if it had lost its traditions, and had housed itself quite fittingly. A club to which I did not belong and one of which the membership was kept strictly secret was the Med. Fac. It was supposed to have originated as a take-off on the medical faculty and to it were ascribed all the very foolish pranks that were committed around the yard. The authorities could never get hold of them, and I do not believe any one of them was ever punished, although some of their antics were dangerous to human life and only the pleas of youth could have excused them. One man placed a stick of dynamite down the sewer, fortunately resulting in no harm; and in my own case a skyrocket suddenly went off between my legs one dark night. This made me think my chum was a member of the crowd, but, of course, I never could prove it. It is said that the Med. Fac. once sent a letter to the Tsar of Russia announcing his election to the organization. He, thinking to add one more honor to his already numerous ones, took the invitation _au serieux_ and sent them a present of a very beautiful set of surgical instruments. There are one or two pleasing incidents or traditions of Harvard that I like to remember—things that help one to a greater appreciation of humanity in general. One was told me by my uncle by marriage. When he was a student in the college he was given fifty dollars by an old “grad” who like him had struggled through poverty to get his education, and told to buy himself an overcoat, the man saying: “It isn’t I who give it to you, but a former graduate who gave it to me; and when you get out in the world and make good on your own, you are asked to pass it on.” No one knew the identity of the first donor and only one person will know whether it is going on to-day; but I do hope that some mischance has not occurred to break the chain—the recipient being too unsuccessful, or dying before he could return it.