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occasions. In the course of the '95 game, I happened 

 to hit a difficult foul fly which the catcher, Tracy 

 Russell (since a well-known physician of San Fran- 

 cisco), captured after a long run, thereby assuring 

 victory, for the class. Then from the side lines, led 

 by Charlie Field, arose the chant: 



Will Tracy graduate? 

 Only the Starrs can tell. 



At the games the camera was, of course, freely 

 used, and in early editions of The Quad, or Junior 

 Annual, many amusing incidents are pictured. On "Fanned 

 one occasion, striking too hard at a curved ball, to out 

 the delight of the spectators I split my vest down 

 the back. A framed photograph on the wall of the 

 Faculty Club House still preserves the record of 

 that mishap, probably unique in the annals of 

 university presidents. 



But the young people contributed in many ways 

 their share of merriment, though frequently, it 

 must be confessed, at the expense of their elders. 

 I remember distinctly a one-act play entitled "A U A 

 Faculty Meeting," in which various members of the Faculty ^ 

 teaching staff were cleverly impersonated and the 

 outstanding traits of each pleasantly hit off. After 

 expansive idealism on the part of the literary fellows, 

 and some droning by others, an instructor came 

 rushing in with exciting news from the baseball 

 field, where a game was said to be in progress. 

 Upon this, the session broke up incontinent, all the 

 professors, led by the president, making for the 

 side lines. For it was then a common joke among 

 the boys to say that ability to play baseball was the 

 first requisite in securing a professorship at Stan- 



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