A class was called upon for recitations from Mother Goose in seven different languages. At the head of this Professor Goodwin, then and now of Harvard, honored us with a Greek version of "The Man in the Moon." A recent Harvard graduate recited the following:-- "Heu! iter didulum, Felis cum fidulum, Vacca transiluit lunam, Caniculus ridet Quum talem videt, Et dish ambulavit cum spoonam." The question being asked whether this last line was in strict accordance with grammar, the scholar gave the following rule: "The conditions of grammar should always give way to the exigencies of rhyme." A supposed graduate of the department of law coming forward to receive her degree, was thus addressed: "Come hither, my dear little lamb, I welcome you to a long career at the _baa_." As I record these extravagances, I seem to hear faint reverberations of the laughter of some who are no longer in life, and of others who will never again meet in such lightness of heart. This brilliant conjunction of stars was now no more in Newport, and the delicious fooling of that unique summer was never repeated. Out of it came, however, the more serious and permanent association known as the Town and Country Club of Newport. Of this I was at once declared president, but my great good fortune lay in my having for vice-president Professor William B. Rogers, illustrious as the founder of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. The rapid _crescendo_ of the fast world which surrounded us at this time made sober people a little anxious lest the Newport season should entirely evaporate into the shallow pursuit of amusement. This rampant gayety offered little or nothing to the more thoughtful members of society,--those who love to combine reasonable intercourse with work and study. [Illustration: THE HOME AT NEWPORT _From a photograph by Briskham and Davidson._]