Semi-Centennial Anniversary Book: The University of Nebraska, 1869-1919

Item set

Items

Advanced search
  • where both societies had a membership roll of about eighty, a third society, with a membership limitation of fifty, the Delian, was launched, in the autumn of 1889. The opening sentences of its constitution ran: "We, students of the University of Nebraska, believing that the membership of the existing literary societies is too large for the best literary and social culture, and that the formation of a new society is desirable do hereby organize ourselves into a literary society." The Palladian and the Union societies occupied at this time the long rooms, since remodeled, at the east and west ends respectively of the third floor of University Hall. These rooms they furnished themselves, buying carpets, chairs, curtains, and rugs, from society dues and from voluntary subscriptions. The new Delian society, since no room for its sole use was available in the building, met at first in the "music room" on the first floor, now used by the department of elocution. In 1890, it was granted the use of the chapel for its meetings, in those days a large hall on the north wing of the second floor, but now partitioned off into class-rooms for the departments of rhetoric and of education. Here the Delian society continued to meet until it went out of existence about 1905. It was reestablished in 1916-17, or rather a new literary society was instituted, adopting the same name. The programs of the literary societies consisted of varied features. Staple were the "essay", the "oration", the "recitation", with such musical numbers as were available interspersed, and the program closed normally with a "debate." Social sessions followed, sometimes varied by the serving of "light refreshments", such as doughnuts, apples, popcorn, or more rarely, ice cream; and there were promenades through the long corridors. In the '80's and '90's, the height of elegance was thought to be attained when the more prodigal members went to a local restaurant after the program for oysters. The recreation of dancing was frowned upon in those days, and was not to be thought of after society meetings. Auxiliary organizations which played conspicuous roles in the life of the literary societies were the P. B. D. C. (Palladian Boys' Debating Club),
  • ings on the first floor. The second literary society to be established was the Adelphian, which was formed in 1873 by the secession of some of members from the Palladian. A moving spirit in the secession was George E. Howard, now one of the University's most honored professors, and a recent president of the American Sociological Association. It is of interest to recall that Professor Howard was not only a political and literary leader of his period but also a leading athlete, holding various college records in the types of athletics then in vogue. On the occasion of the quarter-centennial anniversary of the founding of the University, Professor Howard was called back from Leland Stanford university, where he was professor of history, to deliver the Charter Day address. Both the Palladian and the Adelphian societies were at first men's organizations, but in the autumn of 1873 the Adelphian admitted women to membership, and the Palladians followed their example during the next term, with "consequent gain," says their chronicler, "in decorum and in spirit." The meetings of the Adelphians were held on the third floor, which was to be for so many years, until the erection of the Temple building, the home of the literary societies. The Adelphian society went out of existence in 1876. In that year it was reorganized, joined by a second element seceding from the Palladian, under the name of the "University Union." Among those who helped to draft the charter organizing the new society was Charles E. Magoon, Governor of the Canal Zone, 1905-1906, and Provisional Governor of Cuba, 1906-1909. At first the new society restricted its membership to regular college students, excluding students of the "Prep" (Preparatory) school. The eligible members of the Palladian and most members of the Adelphian made up its first membership. Since few students attended the University who did not enter by way of the preparatory school, this restriction handicapped the new society and was soon given up. It became the custom to buttonhole new students, almost as soon as they entered the institution, and to ask them to join one or the other literary society. When the stage was reached
  • of the Service. We have not dishonored them in the Great War. Of the former members of the battalion who have distinguished themselves, I am not permitted to speak. Their deeds will be found in another article. But our list of commandants would be incomplete without the names of Captain Frank Eager, '93, afterwards Colonel of the First Nebraska Regiment, U. S. Volunteers, and Captain Charles Weeks, '98, now Colonel and chief of the historical section of the General Staff. And lastly, we cannot forbear tribute to Major (Dean) O. V. P. Stout, who has a special place in our affections. He has shown that his long interest in the battalion was not a mere academic one, and that the students' confidence in him for many years was not misplaced. GUERNSEY JONES. ORGANIZATIONS In the early days of the University, the "literary societies" were the chief centers of life outside the class-rooms. Their weekly meetings on Friday night had no rival save a rare "show" at the old Centennial theatre, or later at the old Oliver. The manifold attractions which now compete for the presence of the student a Friday evening were non-existent. The literary societies have never lost their vitality and they still fill definite niches in college life; but neither they nor any other organizations of a single type could again have anything like their, old-time monopoly. The earliest literary society to be organized on the campus was the Palladian, founded in the autumn of 1871, soon after the University opened. Its purpose, in the quaint phraseology of the preamble of its first constitution, was "to help build up and perfect the moral and intellectual capacities and in like manner the social qualities." Only the first and part of the second story of University Hall were in use for a time, and the Palladians held their meet-
  • his heart in preparing. Sans peur et sans reproche, a more fearless and gallant officer never lived, barring none. What is West Point's secret, one is impelled to ask, in producing such men? Does it produce them, or does it merely attract them? It is curious now to recall that almost exactly two years ago, in the days immediately preceding our plunge into the maelstrom of the Great War, there was a formidable movement in the legislature to abolish military instruction in the University. So belligerent and influential were the pacifists of that day that the outcome of the agitation could not be foretold. Notwithstanding the loss of Federal revenue the abolition would have involved, they seemed to have an even chance. The agitation was short-lived, but it was not without disagreeable echoes on the campus. Undisciplined youths, many of whom doubtless have since died gloriously for their country, conceived it to be their duty to revile the Military Department and to undermine its morale. It was a bad quarter an hour Captain Parker, whose three years' period of service was approaching its close. Never were trials less deserved. In truth, they did not last long, nor would they be worth recording were it not to chronicle a moral victory of discipline and self-control which, to those who care for such things, will remain undimmed even in the presence of imperishable deeds on the fields of France. Not once was Captain Parker betrayed by impatience under extreme provocation into saying or doing anything unworthy of his profession which he would afterwards have wished unsaid or undone. He was the soul of courtesy and of honor. He set the men an example of single-minded devotion to duty that was much appreciated, not the least because it was wholly unconscious and unintended. In 1817, Captain Parker was transferred to Fort Snelling, and he is now at Stanford University. His successor was Col. Roberts, who has since died. The roll of West Pointers who have been among us is an imperishable one. They have left behind the delightful memories, and, let us hope, something of the best traditions
  • more spacious times. Challenged angrily as to whether he had really uttered a derogatory remark as reported by a lady, though he could not for the moment fully recall the incident, Captain Guilfoyle replied quickly, "Whatever the lady said I said I said." The bewildered challenger retired in confusion to think it over, and never returned. The story of Col. Storsenburg, who came in 1897, is more tragic. Before his first year had passed, the Spanish War was upon us and he was in command of the First Nebraska regiment. Then occurred a shabby incident over which it were better to allow ever kind Oblivion to cast her veil, were it not that it involves a lesson of too great value to be lost. Loud and shrill outcries were raised by the political and bolshevik element in the regiment at Col. Stotsenburg's exacting standards of discipline. Outrageous letters of complaint were written to the newspapers—in war time! There were mutterings in the legislature leading to an investigation from Washington and to Col. Stotsenburg's complete exoneration. Meanwhile the regiment went into action in the Philippines. The value of discipline at once became apparent. Complaints suddenly ceased, and the Colonel found himself transformed into a hero overnight. In 1899, he fell in action at the head of his regiment, leaving a name precious in the military annals not only of the University but of the State. Few of our commandants are remembered with deeper affection than Captain (afterwards Major) Workizer, who was in charge from 1905 to 1909. He had an almost boyish directness and alertness of manner, and a capacity for enjoyment that were most winning. The Workizer Rifles at the Farm are a lasting testimony to his activity and popularity. After leaving the University he was invalided for injuries received in the performance of his duty. He was utterly devoid of fear. At one time alone he entered the hold of a Pacific transport to quell a mutiny among the prisoners under his charge, and received a blow from which he never fully recovered. He died in 1918, partly of his injuries and partly of a broken heart at not being able to serve his country in the great crisis for which he had spent
  • inence of his later career. The continued residence of his family in Lincoln has tended to preserve the affection of the community for him and pride in his growing fame to a greater degree than is usually possible in so migratory a profession as that of arms. It would be impossible to mention all the cadet officers of Pershing's time who have since attained distinction, and it would be invidious to attempt a selected list; but it may perhaps be permitted to record in meagre chronicle what has recently happened to a very few who are for the moment in the public eye. Col. W. H. Hayward, '97, in command of the 15th N. Y. Infantry (coloured), has received the American D. S. O., the French croix de guerre, and has been nominated a Chevalier de la Legion d'Honueur. His regiment was under fire for one hundred ninety-one days and suffered possibly more casualties than any other American regiment. He himself was wounded in action. One hundred and fifty of his officers and men were awarded the croix de guerre and his regimental colours were similarly decorated, being one of six American regimental colours thus honoured. Professor W. L. Westermann, '94, is in Paris with the President's party as member of Col. House's Inquiry and expert adviser on Turkey. General Pershing recognized him after twenty-three years. Lieutenant Colonel L. V. Patch, '98, recently commanded an American regiment in action and in addition two batteries of heavy French artillery. Lest we be accused of favoritism in selecting these few from among so many, let us hasten to explain that they are merely specimens, as it were, of a greater glory! Even so worthy citizens of Worms said deprecatingly when the old Kaiser praised their proffered wines "We have better ones." While General Pershing's name is the most famous one to be connected with the Department, it is but one of many to be recalled with pride. Captain Guilfoyle, his successor, will long be remembered for a delightful retort, which in its combination of chivalry and defiance one likes to think might have fallen from the lips of Sir Walter Raleigh in
  • workers, but the foundations have been well laid, the growth has been carefully guided, and when the opportunity comes, the larger service will be given. NELLIE JANE COMPTON. THE MILITARY DEPARTMENT The outstanding feature in the history of the Military Department of the University is, it need hardly be said, General Pershing's four years' service as commanding officer of the battalion. The personality of the young lieutenant, then fresh from the Indian wars, found immediate expression in a stricter discipline and an infectious professional enthusiasm. It cannot be averred that discipline was then, nor is it now, a conspicuous quality of Nebraska life. Lieutenant Dudley, our first commandant, had provoked a downright mutiny by an "arbitrary and unreasonable" insistence upon the wearing of uniforms at drill! Upon the advent of Lieutenant Pershing in 1891, the young men found that the nameless tyrannies of his predecessors, Lieutenants Dudley, Webster, Townley and Griffith, were but faint adumbrations of what they were now facing. But there was no mutiny. On the contrary, it was the beginning of whatever spontaneous enthusiasm the students have since shown in military studies. In 1893, Pershing received his bachelor's degree from the University in the College Of Law. In the same year, the Pershing Rifles were organized for voluntary additional drill. They are still in existence, destined apparently to remain a permanent part of our military organization. It may be said in general that this period of Pershing's life, with its profound impression upon the student body, foreshadowed upon a small stage his later achievements in the great field of the world's history. His name became a legendary one among successive generations of undergraduates, whose memories are usually so short. No one has ever been heard to express surprise at the prom-
  • ing in the University library has been largely missing, greatly to the regret of those who know its wealth of books. On the other hand the use of the library as a working and reference collection of books has always been most gratifying. Many departments make a real laboratory of the library. The main part of the students' work in many courses in history, philosophy, education, literature, economics and sociology is done in the library. In the scientific and technical courses large use is also made of the literature of these subjects as it is found in the collections of books which, in most cases, are placed in departmental libraries. The engineering and mathematics books, in the Mechanic Arts library, the books on agriculture and all its allied subjects, with those on home economics, in the University Farm library, and the smaller collections on botany and zoology, shelved together in Bessey Hall, on chemistry, physics, and entomology in small departmental libraries, are all extremely valuable and most of them are constantly used. The Law library is also separate, occupying the whole of the third floor of the law building, and a valuable medical collection is being formed at the College of Medicine in Omaha. In addition to assigned and required reading, there is a very large use of the library by students in preparing papers and debates in looking up all sorts of subjects of momentary or permanent interest, while from outside the University come many requests for information and assistance. Probably few people even in the University itself realize the worth of this library to the University and to the state. It is the largest and by far the most valuable collection of books in Nebraska. The books have been most carefully chosen for their value as a working collection, and there are few subjects upon which it does not contain good material. The library serves the whole University as does no other single department, coming in touch at some point with every student and every professor. Much more of service that it would like to give, must be withheld in its present inadequate quarters and with its small staff of
  • county library. Mr. J. I. Wyer, Jr., is director of the New York State Library. Dr. Jewett's term of service was ended by his death in 1913. From the first the University library has been primarily a reference library. Most of the books have been bought on the recommendation of professors who were interested in securing the best material in print in their own fields. Occasionally this has resulted in an extreme specialization, the forming of a valuable collection of books on a single line while the library might be comparatively weak in the other lines and in the more general works of the same subject. But these special collections are so extremely valuable, and particularly for research work, that it has been felt to be the wisest thing, often, to allow the library to develop somewhat unevenly in places, trusting that in the future the weaker places may be strengthened. Generally, with several professors in a department working on various subdivisions of their subject, the library receives requests for most books of value in the different lines of work and so is building a well-rounded collection of the best material on many subjects. To the librarian belongs the part of choosing the books that do not fall to any department and the general works that are used by all. Often, too, as book catalogs and announcements are received by the librarian, future requests from professors are foreseen and books am ordered to be ready when wanted. While the library is, as has been said, primarily a reference library built up for the use of the faculty and students of the University in their university work, this statement must not be taken to mean that there are no books to interest the general reader or to tempt him to browse among the shelves. Most of the best literature of all the world in all ages is here, poetry, drama, fiction and essays; large collections of biography and history; travel and exploration; books on all the sociologic and economic problems of the day. Students are prone to confine their college reading to the work assigned by their professors, and professors often find little time for books not on their own particular subject, so that a certain type of excursive read-
  • of the books as had been attempted was exceedingly elementary. In 1892 Chancellor Canfield realizing the part which the library should be taking in the development of the University, and the importance of having it carefully organized before its increasing growth should make reorganization more difficult, appointed as librarian Miss Mary L. Jones, of the class of 1885, who had just completed the two years' course of training in the New York State Library School. Miss Jones found the task before her no light one. The library was already so large that a classification of the books by subject and by some form of a catalog was imperative if the constantly increasing use of the library was to be made satisfactory. During the summer of 1892 Miss Jones reclassified roughly by the Dewey decimal system a large proportion of the books, rearranged them on the shelves, and made plans for the card catalog which was to follow. During the five years that she remained at the head of the library she personally classified and supervised the cataloging of nearly all the books she found her upon her arrival, in addition to all those purchased during the period. She gave several short courses in cataloging in order to train assistants who could help in carrying on the work, and she started the organization of the library upon the lines which it has since followed. The University has been very fortunate in its librarians. Miss Jones has been followed by three other graduates of the New York State Library School who, except for short intervals, have been continuously in charge of the library. Mr. J. I. Wyer, Jr., and Dr. Walter K Jewett, each held the position of librarian for approximately seven years, and Mr. Malcolm G. Wyer has been librarian since 1913. Each has brought to the library special gifts of organization, and special knowledge of books that, with the continuity of standards provided by the New York State Library School as a background, has meant much in its development. Miss Jones has since been librarian of the Los Angeles public library, of the Bryn Mawr College library, and is now assistant librarian of the Los Angeles
  • and the last possible addition has been made to the stacks. It is frequently necessary to shift many shelves of books in order to place a few newly-acquired volumes, and temporary shelving outside of the building is already being resorted to. The administration of the library divides itself into two distinct periods, that preceding and that following 1892. In the early days, the direction and management of the library was in the hands of a library committee whose chairman performed to some extent the duties of a librarian. For the first ten years no regular hours of opening were observed and very little use of the library was made by students. In the fall of 1878, Dr. George E. Howard returned to the University as an instructor. The professor who was chairman of the library committee was absent on leave and Dr. Howard was asked to assume some of his duties, among them to take charge of the library. He immediately opened the library from two to six each afternoon. This was very popular with the students. January 1, 1879, Dr. Howard was made instructor in English and history and librarian, with full power of administration over the library, though there was still a library committee of the faculty. Later the power was again vested in the committee, but with Dr. Howard always a member, frequently as chairman. From 1888 to 1891 Miss Ellen Smith was "Registrar and Custodian of the Library," and for 1891-92 Professor George MacMillan was "Custodian of the Library." During this early period all members of the faculty carried keys to the library, and Dr. Bessey has told, in the Cornhusker for 1908, how it was impossible to secure their consent to give up this privilege until Chancellor Canfield, after presenting the matter in faculty meeting and setting forth the reasons why all keys should be turned in, added the information that the lock on the library door had just been changed by the University carpenter so the keys would be of no further use; and as Dr. Bessey adds, "The keys were turned in." There was no catalog of the library during these years except a sort of accessions list of the books as they were received, and such classification
  • THE LIBRARY The statute passed by the Nebraska legislature February 15, 1869, which provided for the founding of the University of Nebraska, contained a clause providing for the establishment of a library, through the appropriation for that purpose of certain regularly received University fees. While the amount in the beginning was small it was constant, and growing with the growth of the school it has been the chief source of library income, though for many years added appropriations from the general University funds have been made by the regents. The successive catalogs of the University refer to the carefully selected collection of books which constitute the library, show its growth. In 1878 there were 2,000 volumes, in 1882, 4,000, in 1886, 7,000, and by 1890, 12,000 volumes. The growth from this time onward has been increasingly rapid. By 1901, 50,000 volumes were recorded, in 1907, 75,000, and accessioning of the 100,000th book in 1912 was made a ceremony. Since then the growth averaged over 6,000 volumes a year, so that at the end of 1918, the library numbers 140,000 volumes. The original small library was housed first in one room, then in two, in the southeast corner of the second floor of University Hall. In 1888 it was moved to the first floor of the north wing of the same building, the rooms now occupied by the department of rhetoric. In the fall of 1895 the library moved into its present location, the second floor of the then new library building. It had been planned that the remainder of this building should be turned over to the library as it was needed, but there has been absolutely no expansion of space for library use since that time. In fact the space for readers has been much decreased, as the tables which were originally placed in the alcoves in the book room had to be withdrawn in order to make space for the new stacks demanded by the increasing number of books. For several years students have constantly been turned away from the reading room by lack of space to seat them
  • rope and oozed away. In the meantime the orchestra faithfully continued to grind out "Many Are the Friends Who Are Waiting Tonight" until it was discovered that the stage was empty. Happy days, happy days! They didn't catch the actors that night and in a day or two it was safe to reappear on the campus. It is interesting to recall what the boys looked forward to after leaving the University in the early eighties—professional life, mainly, it seems to me. School teaching was still considered a worthy and attractive profession. The very pinnacle of success was a college professorship. Law invited many of the more vigorous, and a few of the boys were thinking of medicine, business, newspapering, or the new occupation of writing insurance. The ministry called a few. Nobody wanted to go back to the farm. Farm products were almost given away at this time, and land was so cheap and abundant that even eastern Nebraska it sold at from five to ten dollars an acre. So the beginnings of the agricultural college were held in contempt. We could not see that Nebraska was to become a great horn of plenty, smothering the next generation with wealth. A few of the boys had begun to pioneer in the sciences, but we had no hint of the great prizes that were to come to men like Bion J. Arnold, who was then breaking into engineering, or J. G. White, who soon went from an instructorship in the University to an electrical business encircling the globe. What we were getting then seemed the most beautiful and the most desirable things in the world. The habits of industry we formed, the affections we nourished, the visions we enjoyed, and the memories we cherish, make the pioneers of the early eighties refuse to be pitied by students who enjoy the splendid facilities of the University at the close of the first half century of its history. WILL OWEN JONES.
  • the slate" not only insured the young ladies regular escorts but broke the youths at an early period to the systematic attendance upon the fair sex that naturally leads to life-long constancy. No formal balls were held by the students at this time and only a little semi-clandestine dancing was indulged in at class meetings and other affairs held in private houses. Romantic talk was stimulated by the moonlight, a course, and yet as the couples moved to and from the campus for classes and for the society meetings, an immense amount of converse on deep and high and earnest themes was common. I cannot recall one sandal or the suggestion of a scandal in the six years. The sons and daughters of the pioneers, some of them fresh from the sod houses on the homesteads, were catching their first glimpses of the glories of the ancient and the modern world. It was an enchanting and inspiring time. There wasn't a foot of pavement in two hundred miles and the automobile was not even a dream. But the old red brick main building was as beautiful as the Parthenon, and O street, though built of wood and sun-dried bricks, could have been surpassed in attractiveness by the marble palaces of Rome. No college can too young to be infected by student mischief and lawlessness. It began here in the revolt against military drill and in The Hesperian Student type-stealing riots for several years before and after 1880. These were political affairs, undertaken with solemn and deadly earnestness. This cannot be said of the countless orthodox student escapades that marked the whole period, most of them silly, but quite devoid of malice. It was in the interests of the college paper that we collected a fee at the door of the chapel one memorable night and then slid down a rope and decamped, leaving an expectant audience to fry in its own indignation. The sort of cameraderie [sic] existing between students and faculty was shown by the fact that Chancellor Manatt received a hint not to be president while Professor L. A. Sherman, the ambassador in the business, came early enjoy the anger of the audience, and Professor Nicholson, also in the secret, did his laughing outside as the members of the troupe swarmed down the
  • A glance at my old student scrap book shows that a steady development took place during the entire six years, but that the University was still a small and provincial and old fashioned college at the end of this period. Public affairs consisted almost exclusively of literary society meetings, oratorical and debating contests and commencement exercises and "exhibitions." Two or three fraternities were finally established, leading to the famous fight which culminated in the fall of 1884 in the action denying membership in the literary societies to the Greek letter brethren. In the forty years in which I have watched the University no student battle was fought with greater bitterness or with more public spirit or ability than this effort to stem the tide of modernity in the social life of the college. It resulted in the retirement of the Greeks from the Palladian and Union societies and their organization of the Philodocean, where they made good the "barbarian" charge that fraternities and literary societies could not flourish with an identical membership. For a few years after this battle the old fashioned societies held their own. During this era the state was growing fast. Boys with spending money above their bare necessities were no longer rare on the campus. We managed to organize a baseball team, to acquire a college yell, to take on the elective system of studies, and to start a second building, the old chemical laboratory. While everything in the state had a forward look in those years, the change to modern state university conditions did not begin to come in earnest until the close of the decade. In my days we were still poor but honest. Our clothes may have been patched but they were scrupulously clean. We prided ourselves on having true hearts, even if our manners must have been frightfully crude. The number of successful marriages growing out of the simple social customs of the early times is worthy of remark. The "slate" may have had something to do with this condition. In each literary society a list of the young lady members was made out weekly and every man was given an opportunity to sign his initials after the one of his choice. This "scratching of
  • many brilliant contest. Outside of that, we devoted our time to our studies, to any outside work that we may have had, and to the interests of the literary societies, with an intensity of concentration that I am sure would make a present-day professor's eyes stand out in amazement. We were everlastingly discussing questions like the tariff, the Nicaraguan canal and the immortality of the soul. When the suffrage question came to a vote in 1882, we lined up on opposite sides not only said everything that had been put forward on the question, but after the amendment was beaten got up a respectable riot when the antis started to bury a coffin said to contain the remains of Susan B. Anthony, only to lose it to the beefier suffs. That near riot was on the whole a very satisfactory affair. We had the band out, and made a big fire on the dirt road at Eleventh and O streets and rowed around so much like real students that we all felt very much encouraged about our rising college spirit. If we could only get a football team and some fraternities started we might at last put the University on the map! The elective system had not been established in 1880. One could not hop from course to course or from class to class. As a freshman, I recited at 9:00 o'clock every morning except Saturday in mathematics, at 10:00 in history and at 11:00 in languages. No afternoon classes were scheduled. With three hours of recitation, we were expected to give six hours in preparation. That meant nine hours of steady work every day for five days each week. Usually the studying was done at specified hours. The result was that students systematized their work in a way that is not possible in the modern hit or miss elective system. This orderly arrangement of time made it possible do the outside work that was regularly done among the more prominent students. A man who did not have a horse to curry or a church to sweep out, or a newspaper route to carry, felt that he could take an extra study or two and thus shorten up his course and perhaps spend a term now and then in teaching school, in order to acquire a little ready cash.
  • y advertised as gilded youths because they boarded at the Clifton House down town and must have paid as much as five or even six dollars. After a student had provided for his basic living, had scraped together a few books, and had turned over his matriculation fee of five dollars, which had to be paid only once, he did not feel uncomfortable if he had nothing left. Life in the University was so simple and poverty was so common that it seemed a perfectly normal condition. Social distractions in the early part of my experience were found mostly in the Friday meetings of the literary societies; in an occasional play at the old Centennial Opera House and in a perfect orgy of church attendance on Sunday. I can name student after student who went to two preaching services, two Sunday schools, a Y. M. C. A. session, and the Red Ribbon club every Sunday, from September till June. The young people of the little city were bubbling over with social gaiety all the time, but aside from the small "town set", the students had no time for frivolity. We indeed were a serious bunch of youngsters. We studied mathematics, the classics, history, and a little science, and then read solid magazine articles for relaxation. I remember that I cut my first debating teeth over an article by a British writer who undertook to show that morality has no scientific basis. At Mrs. Swisher's and later at Mrs. Park's on Q street, we curried civilization up one side and down another at the dinner table every day, and then gave it a few extra wipes on Sunday. Society was so simple that George McLane, who received fifty dollars a month for janitoring the University building, was treated as equal by the professors and as a little more than the rest of us and wore better clothes, and the fact that he was making himself round shouldered carrying hods of coal to fill the base burners that stood in each recitation room did not interfere at all with his social eligibility. Athletics had not appeared on the campus in the early eighties. The only all-university interest was the college paper, The Hesperian Student, which was the center of
  • Envoi: Old U. Hall—in spite of your Franco-Italian-Hoosier architecture, plus the "corduroy effect," in spite of all the disadvantages of primitive building which no amount of repairing and altering can entirely mitigate, the alumni and students, 1871-1919, salute you! Every brick, every stone, every worn step and threshold, the old cracked bell, the red roof, the useless old tower, with the flag of our country flying against the incomparable blueness of Nebraska sky—all these are inseparable from our intellectual and spiritual inheritance. The storied past speaks to us from your walls, the lingering memories of youth's brightness cluster about you! EDNA D. BULLOCK. UNDERGRADUATE LIFE IN THE EARLY EIGHTIES When I entered the University in 1880, the preparatory school was still in existence and it was no uncommon thing for students to spend six years on the campus. My participation in undergraduate life lasted until 1886. At the first date, the official registration in all departments was 348. Six years later, the Latin school having been sloughed off, the annual enrollment reached 381. I saw the University in its first raw stages. While it had been in operation eight years when I arrived, the faculty numbered only seven or eight, and the one red brick building in the center of the prairie-grassed campus was so much too large for the needs of the classes that parts of the third floor and attic were still used as a men's dormitory. My introduction to student life was effected at Mrs. Swisher's boarding house just north of campus, where twelve boys were well cared for at $3.50 and $4.00 a week. This was about the standard cost of good board during the six years. Any number of students cut it in half by boarding in groups or by "batching." A few paid little more. In my day Clem Chase and Dan Wheeler were wide-
  • subjects at the farm campus, but many of them also have classes at the city campus. Chancellor Benton must be regarded as a prophet, for he said in his first Commencement address in June, 1872: "In view of what may be developed within the next ten years, with new and commodious buildings for law and medical schools, and with a building for engineering and the mechanic arts, I have sometimes feared that our plans have not been sufficiently enlarged, and especially that our grounds may become too contracted for our growth." While the march of events was not quite as rapid as the Chancellor's prediction suggested, it came to pass that even the state legislature was convinced that the downtown campus was too small. A growing agitation for the removal of the entire institution to the farm campus was the subject of much fierce debate in two sessions of the legislature. The decision in the matter was put to a vote of the people in 1915, and the proposed removal was defeated. The legislature of 1913 made a levy of three-fourths of a mill on the grand assessment roll of the state for campus extension and for buildings on the two campuses. This levy has been made for the past six years and has resulted in the addition of more than six blocks to the city campus, and in the erection of six or more new buildings. One of the large residences on the new campus has recently been set aside as a woman's building, to be used for social purposes—a welcome recognition of the needs of University women. Another residence was converted into an infirmary as a military necessity for the S. A. T. C. The Temple building was erected on ground immediately adjacent to the city campus in 1906-7 with money given by John D. Rockefeller, and by citizens of Nebraska. It is devoted to religious and social purposes. In addition to the city and farm campuses, the University has a medical college at Omaha with a well located campus and splendid new buildings, an agricultural school at Curtis in Frontier county, and experiment sub-stations at North Platte, Scottsbluff, and Valentine.
  • conducted there by the scientific members of the class of 1888, after the dignitaries had placed the cornerstone and departed. The next building to be constructed was the armory, known as Grant Memorial Hall. Then in rapid succession came the following: boiler house, library, electrical laboratory, Mechanic Arts Hall, Memorial Hall annex, Brace laboratory, Administration Hall, Museum, the Temple, engineering building, law college building, Bessey Hall, Chemistry Hall and many minor buildings, and new buildings now under construction. The farm campus of 320 acres was purchased from Moses Culver and his wife on June 25, 1874, as the original lands located nearer the main campus were found to be unsuitable. Until 1918 the old home of the Culvers was in use as a dwelling, but the march of building-progress called for its removal. Many of the beautiful old trees planted by Mr. Culver still adorn the farm campus. In the early days the farm was separated from the town by an almost unbroken stretch of prairie, so that it was regarded as being at a great distance. Agricultural college students, living at the farm, rode to the campus in a wagon. These students were supposed to work for their board, and to absorb agricultural wisdom while they worked. A cartoon in the first edition of the Sombrero in 1884 represents them as engaging in mumble-ty-peg behind the barn. The development at the University farm was greatly retarded, and the farm campus received little attention until about 1899. It has become the most attractive place in the city—which reaches out to, and surrounds it. It is connected with the city campus by an eighteen-minute car service and may be reached over paved streets. It has buildings and improvements to the value of over half a million dollars. Hundreds of students attend classes at the farm. The original 320 acres have long been inadequate for the purposes of the college and school of agriculture and the experiment station. Considerable additional land is rented, and some additional acres, most of which are at some distance from the farm, have been purchased. The students of the college of agriculture pursue most of their
  • differed little appearance from the prairie about it for a number of years. Citizens tethered their family cows on it, children picked violets and buffalo beans there. Chancellor Benton's first report describes plans for walks, drives and tree planting, and mentions consultations with landscape artists in Chicago, and the final selection of home talent for the purpose. It was planned to experiment with variety of species of trees. A hedge of red cedar and osage orange was placed about the campus, and hundreds of trees were planted, only to perish. In the Chancellor's report in June, 1875, it is stated that the professor and students of the agricultural college had planted trees all around the campus with great care and that the janitor had admirably tended the grounds, though the floral part had several times been cut down by locusts. Gravelled walks led from the streets to the building, and the grounds were partially enclosed at one time, by a board fence. As years went on board walks consisting of two parallel planks about a foot apart were laid—a contribution to the gaiety of the campus literature, as examination of the Hesperian files, on the subject of "coeducational sidewalks," will attest. During the administration of Chancellor Canfield the legislature made a special appropriation for the iron fence which now surrounds the original campus. The old University building was filled to overflowing with faculty, students, equipment, when the chemistry building was first occupied by the natural science departments in 1886. The University then entered on a period of rapid expansion, and every legislature since that of 1885, with the exception of those of 1893 and 1901, has made special appropriations for University buildings to the total amount of over three million dollars. The difficulty of securing the building appropriations was so great in the earlier period that success was the signal for student demonstrations on the campus and around the town. A bon fire, some soap-box oratory, a march to the chancellor's house, or to the capitol were in order. The cornerstone of Nebraska Hall was laid on Commencement Day of 1888 and impressive ceremonies were
  • house in 1888, the policing of the campus brought student life in close touch with the head janitor. If the students chanted some appropriate air when John appeared to turn out the lights, the chances were that the lights would not go out too abruptly. If they invited John to their Thanksgiving "feed," they usually were privileged to wash their dishes in the steam down in the boiler room. When they graduated, they hunted for John when adieus to the campus were in order, and heard something like this: "Well, I don't see what the university is going to do for students next year. When your class is gone, there won't be anybody worth while around any more." Old "U Hall" has withstood the vicissitudes and calumnies of time, and still is doing good service to the state. Condemned as physically unfit from its beginning, the building has undergone, from time to time, extensive repairs. The original foundation, chiefly of soft brown sandstone, was removed and a limestone foundation substituted. For months the building stood on jack-screws and, be it not forgotten, also on its complete system of inside cross walls, which extend from the basement to the roof. Three years ago its front walls were found to be bulging a few inches. The regents, with a retinue of architects and engineers, filed solemnly through the building, and the result is a series of steel uprights riveted through the building from south to north by steel cables, making it indubitably safe, and giving the exterior what Chancellor Avery describes as a "corduroy effect." Inside it is much the same as of yore, except that the chapel, after being once remodelled was finally divided into two floors and further remodelled for class room purposes. The same old bell that summoned the first students to morning prayers—a bell now cracked and scarcely audible on the outskirts of the old campus—summons the younger, gayer, better dressed and housed students to convocation, or announces football victories. Dining the war it tolled the eleven o'clock angelus up to November 11, 1918. The original campus covered four city blocks. Until 1886 University Hall was the sole edifice. The campus
  • ramifications contributed to the pioneer history of the state, involving finally the governor, who as president of the board of regents, had approved the expenditure of a sum in excess of the appropriation. Charges to this effect formed one of the items in a subsequent impeachment trial. In his first report, made in June, 1872, Chancellor Benton said, "Some difficulty has been experienced in making the roof impervious to rain." It may be added in this connection that this difficulty in achieving imperviousness has persisted down to date, and was a matter of common knowledge and comment in the student body through all the earlier college generations. In his first report, the chancellor also called the attention of the regents to the furnaces which failed to heat the building and were costly to operate. In his second report in June, 1873, he stated class rooms had been heated by stoves in the chapel also. Early generations of students remember the ugly and insatiable stoves that made winter use of the old chapel possible, but never comfortable. The old chapel, in the north wing of what is now known as University Hall, occupied the second and third floors, the rostrum being at the north end, with a gallery across the south end. The seats were the traditional pews. With wealth of bleak walls, its stained and perilous ceiling, a more uninspiring room cannot well be imagined; but pioneer spirit was not so easily daunted. Until the installation of a steam-heated plant in the east side of the north wing of the basement in 1885, the janitor service was performed by students who were remunerated very modestly, one, at least, being permitted to sleep in the building. The care of from twenty-five to thirty hard-coal base burners constituted the moat laborious part of the janitor work. Huge ash-heaps accumulated in the angle west of the north wing. Pioneer children mounted these ash heaps in order to view the skeletons in the museum on the first floor, underneath the chapel. With the coming of the steam plant, John Green entered the service of the university as head janitor and engineer. Until the removal of the heating plant to the new boiler
  • Grummann as director, an important section of the work of the University. Art and music are taught in their history, theory, and practice, with a regular four years' course, so that degrees are granted to its students on the same basis as to the students of the colleges. The work in commerce and accounting developed under Professor J. E. LeRossignol was given definite standing as a school in 1913, with Professor LeRossignol as its director. Under the new social and educational conditions its work promises to develop and become more and more important, as the years go on. The school of commerce has just been elevated by the regents to a college, as this anniversary book goes to press. There are, under the control of the board of regents, two schools of preparatory rank, one at the Farm rod one at Curtis, both devoted to the teaching of agricultural subjects. H. W. CADWELL. BUILDINGS AND GROUNDS The commissioners who located and laid out the capital city and set aside four blocks for the University campus, must have selected the location of these four blocks when blindfolded. No good angel whispered to them of seats of learning set upon the hills. The gentle slopes of the Antelope valley were ignored, and a site bordering on Salt Creek valley and inevitably in the path of railroads, then imminent, was chosen. Next, with money derived from the sale of lots in the new capital city, the commission proceeded to erect a building. The methods of contractors and official boards were genuinely American, however. The legislature had appropriated $100,000 for the erection of a building. In June, 1869, seemingly in anticipation of a contract, R. D. Silver arrived in Lincoln to establish a brickyard, and on August 18, following, his foresight was justified by the award of the contract for the University building for $128,480. Troubles arose very soon afterwards, and their
  • work has been of such a grade that those who have received a state teacher's certificate as a result of their work there are recognized in most states as prepared teachers. From 1914 to 1918 a graduate college of education was conducted and a provision was made for a dean and a committee to plan work for the degrees of master of arts and doctor of philosophy. In correlation with all the undergraduate colleges, there was established in 1893 a graduate college under the deanship of Professor A. H. Edgren. Thus the structure of the real university was rounded out before the close of the first quarter century. Since Professor Edgren's departure in 1900 the graduate college has been developed under Dr. L. A. Sherman, head of the department of English. This brief outline brings out the growth of the University, both in clearness of organization and in development of lines of work. The colleges of its fiftieth year are well arranged, and all are in distinct life, and well attended. It is still true, however, that the college of arts and sciences stands first in numbers both of faculty and of students. The word school as it has been used in connection with branches of work in the University has varied, and still varies, in meaning. At first, from 1871 to 1895, it was applied to the "Latin school" for preparatory work. In early days—perhaps until 1885—the number of students in the Latin school was greater than in all the colleges of the University proper. In later years the word school has been used to designate collegiate as well as preparatory organizations. A "sugar school" existed from 1896 to 1900, but the failure of the beet sugar work in the eastern part of the state, together with the request of the agricultural college, led to its elimination. A "school of mechanic arts," formed in 1896, became a part of the engineering college in 1909; and a "school of domestic science" created in 1898 was transferred to the state farm in 1906 and included in the agricultural college. Other schools that have been formed are still in existence, and in process of development. The school of fine arts, established in 1898, is now, under Professor Paul