THE ALUMNI JOURNAL. 



127 



a cut'and dried or as I prefer to state it, a cooked 

 {Cook) and dried speech, which I intend to in- 

 flict upon you, as my method of saying farewell. 

 When, on the third day of October, 1892, this 

 class was born [Borti), composed of men, who 

 had travelled through valleys and over hills 

 {Hills) in order to get to the New York College 

 of Pharmacy, we were unknown to one another, 

 many of us entire strangers one to the other, for 

 prior [Prior) to that date, it had not been my 

 privilege or pleasure to greet you, but as often 

 the case {Case), the acquaintanceship we struck 

 {Struck) at that time, has been growing stronger 

 and stronger, and in view of the fact that I en- 

 tertain this friendly feeling, it would be culpable 

 ( Culp) negligence on my part did I allow this 

 feast and frolic {Froehlich) of yours to pass by 

 without a little friendly advice. Most of it may 

 not be new, but {Neubert) at the same time, as 

 the majority of you are still young {Young) and 

 inexperienced, it may not be amiss, for in the 

 wild race {Race) for fame and fortune, you will 

 often wade ( IVade) into dangerous places, for 

 in that narrow pathway of righteousness, there 

 are many crooks {Ciooks)audi crinkles, which we 

 must straighten out, and from which we must 

 weed {Weed) the herb {Erb) of iniquity. 



Full many a man will you meet clothed as a 

 sheep in the clothing of a wolf {Wolff), who 

 will coax ( Wilcox) you on temptingly, but it is 

 worth a man's ( Wortlniiann) life to take no 

 stock {Stock) in such people, pass by such a 

 shaver {Schaefer) not by the slow and measured 

 step of a mule {Miihl), but rather in the sprint 

 of a prize walker {Walker). We see men 

 {Sieman) at thirty, who have not yet sown their 

 wild oats {Oats), let me express the hope that 

 such act shall {Shaul) not be recorded against 

 anyone of you, and this hope is a bouton on 

 {Bouton) a par with the one, that when you get 

 into love-land {Loveland), be upright, and just, 

 as well as discreet and wise { Weiss) in all your 

 actions and relations with your lady friends, for 

 remember that not only is her big {Herbig) 

 brother usually on hand to demand reparation, 

 but much more serious than that, are the marks 

 {Marx) that are recorded in that big book that 

 is kept on High, in the hall [Hall) of records, 

 and wherein they mark us {Marcjis) according 

 to our deeds. If even a brown {Brown) mark 

 should appear therein, when the same is laid 

 before us to read {Reed) on the morning of the 

 day, when having crossed the River of Jordan 

 {Jordan) we are summoned by that Herald 

 [Herold) who is to blow the great blast on 

 Gatiriel's horn {Home). It is well to ponder 

 {Pond) over these facts before it is too late, and 



before we appear before this richter {Richter) or 

 judge. I trust you will all make good clerks, 

 {Clarke), I mean drug clerks of course, that you 

 will not live like cats {Katz) and dogs, for life 

 is too short for such nonsense, and remember 

 'tis folly to be sour {Sauer), try to be pleasant 

 and agreeable to all, for it pays. Never indulge 

 in strife, it is unworthy of a professional man, 

 abstain from endeavoring to imitate the un- 

 worthy example set by two of your fellow 

 students, who had so unpleasant an hour, when 

 they were called before a police sergeant {Sar- 

 geant), that neither one will ever wish that hour 

 back {Auerbach). As far as the college is con- 

 cerned, you are now freed {Fried) men, that is, 

 your studies are at an end, but it is to be hoped 

 that you appreciate that you have still much to 

 learn. As the stock of available names from 

 class register is exhausted, must close by pro- 

 claiming the boss (Boss) maxim to be a mascot 

 word, may you ever cherish it, for even though 

 German, you all know the translation of your 

 president's name, EhrGott, (Honor God). 



ADDRESS BY HERMAN GRAESER. 



Gentlemen oj the Class oj 'q^.: 



Following in the wake of such interesting 

 orators as have preceded me this evening, there 

 remains but very little for me to say. 



I thank you for the courtesy you have shown 

 me in extending to me an invitation to your 

 class dinner. It is indeed an honor and a priv- 

 ilege to be with and to address so distinguished 

 a class as the class of '94, on probably the last 

 occasion but one on which we will meet before 

 you go out to practice your vocation. 



For two years you have come to the N. Y. C. 

 P. During this time you have made a great 

 many friendships, some of them lasting, and 

 some to be forgotten or broken as soon as you 

 part on commencement night. 



It is an acknowledged fact that in the lives of 

 all men, next to the days of courtship, the time 

 spent at school or college is the happiest of 

 their life. When the sterner cares and prob- 

 lems of life confront you; how you are going to 

 meet the next note that comes due; when busi- 

 ness is poor and you are hardly paying expenses; 

 when your wife's milliner's bill comes in, and a 

 thousand other little things that I cannot enu- 

 merate here, you will think back sometimes of 

 the happy time at college, with no greater care 

 than that for the coming examinations. 



When you accidentally meet an old college 

 chum and swap reminiscences with him of how 

 you managed to outwit, or, as the boys say, 



