The Bowl Fight.

by Edward Mumford, Class of 1889. From the Alumni Register, Vol X, No. 4, January, 1906.

The Bowl Fight is not a highly dignified or useful academic exercise. This may be admitted at the outset. Its pursuit adds little to the sum of human knowledge, and its value as an aid to the attainment of sweetness and light, and culture, and the oversoul seems far to seek. Yet as a custom it is unique-no other college has anything like it. And as a Pennsylvania tradition it has a hold upon the heart of graduate and undergraduate that time seems destined only to strengthen. If any apology is necessary for a more or less serious attempt at the history of the tradition I trust this may suffice.

For the benefit of those not familiar with the custom, let it be said that the Bowl Fight is a struggle between the Sophomore and Freshman classes in the College Department of the University. The Freshmen furnish a "bowl-man," and the Sophomores provide a large wooden bowl. Until recently the object of the Sophomores was to put the "bowl-man" into the bowl, while the object of the Freshmen was to guard the "bowl-man" and to break the bowl. It will be seen that these features have now been somewhat modified.

The first important fact in the history of the bowl fight is that in the beginning of the custom there was neither a fight nor a bowl. The exact origin of the affair is still obscure, but. it seems safe to say that the germ of the idea was born in the early sixties, when the college was located at Ninth and Chestnut streets. The college year was then divided into three terms, the first term ending at the Christmas holiday in December. At the end of the first term, then, and for many years thereafter, it was customary for the secretary of the faculty to announce the results of the term's work, and to the best students in each class were awarded "honors." The perfect mark was 15. Those who graded between 14 and 15 were awarded first honors, those between 13 and 14 had "second honors," and those between 12 and 13 had "third honors." There were very few first and second honors, but always several third honor men, who were graded according to their marks.

Now, in those days arose some nameless genius who said: "The lowest freshman third honor man is so far from the head of his class that lie has indeed little honor. 'Let us therefore present him with a wooden spoon, and mock him, and have fun with him generally." No doubt the thing was impromptu--spontaneous. But there was enough fun in it to repeat it the next year. All this is conjecture. No contemporary reference has come to light; there was no college paper then, and the Record, though issued annually beginning with 1865, makes no allusion to the custom until the issue of 1876. But now for the memory of those who were students at that time.

Mr. W. W. Montgomery, of the class of 1865, says he has "a rather dim impression that something of the kind went on among the Sophomores and Freshmen during our junior and Senior years;" (1861-2 and 1862-3), but adds "I think it likely that in 1863-4 the Sophs, at the, end of the first term conceived the idea of presenting an ordinary kitchen spoon to the lowest honor Freshman."

Mr. Robert Frazer, '67 says, "the custom of presenting a wooden spoon to the lowest third honor man at the, end of the first term was. in existence at the time of my entrance into college" (fall of 1863). Mr. Frazer suggests that Mr. Herman C. Duncan, '67 (now of Alexandria, La.), may have received such a spoon, but Mr. Duncan does not confirm this. Indeed, Mr. Duncan, and nine others of the class of '67, nine members of the class of '66, seven members of '65, and three of '64, have all written to me that they recall no such custom between Freshmen and Sophomores.

A conflict of memories over such a relatively unimportant affair as this was in the sixties is of course to be expected. But we seem to reach solid ground in the positive recollections of three alumni, namely Mr. Charles F. Ziegler, Dr. Ewing Jordan and Mr. Henry Budd, all residents of Philadelphia, and all members of the class of '68.

Mr. Ziegler says that when his class entered in the fall of 1864 they "found well-established the custom of presenting the lowest honor man of the Freshman class with a large, rude wooden spoon. This was furnished by the Sophomores, who waited until the close of the chapel exercises, when the announcements were made, crowded around the door, grabbed the low honor man and made him take it (the spoon). No effort was made by anybody to prevent the presentation, the Freshmen being as much amused as the Sophomores. The spoon was decorated with ribbons. No speeches or formalities were observed. There was, perhaps, somewhat of a rush, but this indicated only interest or curiosity."

Mr. Budd is also positive that the spoon custom antedated 1864, and from Dr. Jordan I obtained the hint that such a spoon was given to Mr. Charles H. Spencer, '68, now engaged in business in New York city, and Mr. Spencer has confirmed this in a most interesting letter. He says that he "was the 13th and last honor man in the Freshman class at the first half-yearly examination (December, 1864). When the announcement was made, I was, on issuing from the chapel, surrounded by a crowd of Sophomores, who bestowed upon me the wooden spoon you refer to, bearing the legend roughly cut into the handle, Parvum Parva Decent, an inscription by no means complimentary to me, and I fancy also of doubtful Latinity. I was cheered, and an attempt was also made to chair me, which I avoided. There can be no doubt that this was a sort of hazing, and that the cheers and other demonstrations of enthusiasm were in the highest degree ironical."

Please observe that this spoon was given to the lowest Freshman third honor man at the end of the first term. So here we have a spoon custom, but not yet a bowl custom, between Sophomores and Freshmen existing in December, 1864,--perhaps earlier. It is interesting to note in passing that during that same college year of 1864, no less than three spoons were presented, viz: this one to Mr. Spencer, one by '68 to Mr. W. L. Bull, their classmate, at the "Freshman Vale" (a kind of Freshman class-day exercises), and a third was voted by his own class to Mr. John T. Lewis, '65, as "most popular man" at the Senior class-day exercises in the spring. This was, apparently, by the way, the beginning of another university custom, maintained, I think, ever since. I hope some one may feel inclined to trace it more fully.

I have not been able to find what took place in December, 1865, although Mr. Ziegler says that a spoon was presented in that year. Possibly the bowl made its appearance at that time, accompanying the spoon. Mr. W. D. Neilson, '70, says that when his class entered in 1866 they found the bowl custom already established, the Sophomores using "a wooden bowl with appropriate inscription." However, there is no doubt as to what occurred in December, 1866. Mr. George F. Martin, '70, has given a very detailed account of the affair. He was the lowest third honor man. He "submitted gracefully to being put in the bowl, and jumped out and rolled in the snow." Mr. (now Doctor) Francis F. Rowland, a classmate to Mr. Martin, was one of those active in putting him in the bowl, and carrying him around the campus, and some seniors were also concerned in the- affair, so it was not altogether an under-class matter. As Mr. Martin says, "it was all brave, jolly and not extravagant at all." Mr. Martin says there was a spoon presented with the bowl. Both were crude affairs, such as could have been purchased at any house-furnishing store, and they bore semi-ironical mottoes, which, however, he cannot recall.

So Mr. George F. Martin, '70, was, so far as we know, the first "bowl-man." This gives us pretty definitely the beginning of the "bowl." Now for the origin of the "fight." This, I think-, we can fix more precisely. I cannot do better than to give the account furnished by Mr. Ziegler:

"At the beginning of our Senior year (1867-1868), there was a very small and young Freshman, a member of the Class of '71, who, in due course during the first term had spoken or recited a little poem about 'Three Little Grains of Corn.' He did it very well, indeed, but somehow this seemed to amuse the boys immensely The Sophs in some way, at the end of the term, obtained prematurely the knowledge that this young Freshman was the "last honor man," and they made preparations to meet the situation in a novel manner. They procured not only a large wooden spoon, suitably bedecked, but also a large wooden bowl. In the latter they placed three grains of corn. These they determined to present to the little Freshman. They gathered around the chapel door (the Freshmen always made their exit last), and when the boy appeared a rush was made for him, with the intention of putting him in the bowl, and probably also to compel him to do his little recitation stunt, with the three grains of corn as object lessons. However, as soon as the Freshman grasped the situation, he made a bolt, ran into the street, followed by the whole Soph class with 'hue and cry,' attained the Continental Hotel, dashed through the corridor to the rear on Sansom street, whence he made his escape, This left the bowl and spoon in the possession of the Sophs (class Of '70). This Freshman was Mr. Robert W. Lesley, '71. 1 am inclined to the belief that in this episode we have the origin of the 'Bowl Fight."'

The poem referred to was a pathetic ballad based upon an Irish famine incident, and quite popular for recitation some decades ago. Mr. Lesley, who is a well-known resident of Philadelphia, says that this account of the affair is exactly in accordance with his memory of it. "And," says Mr. Lesley, "when college re-assembled after the Christmas holidays I was again caught, and not only got 'three little grains of corn,' but was showered, and pelted, and powdered with corn until I have had rather an aversion to the diet ever since." It is important to note also that Mr. Lesley says there was a wooden spoon accompanying the bowl.

This took place in December, 1867, the two lower classes being '70 and '71. A number of other alumni agree substantially with the story as given, and there can hardly be a doubt that this was indeed, the first semblance of a struggle over a bowl. Old "Pomp" used to tell with great delight of the reckless rush through the Continental Hotel, although he did not, apparently, give the event its due historical significance.

A bowl was presented in the following year to William Barton Brewster, '72 (afterward a surgeon in the United States Army). The ceremony was, however, quite an amicable one. Dr. Brewster says, "There was no struggle or even an attempt at one. A little good-natured raillery, some pushing, and the deed was done." The bowl was a very large one, of the sort ordinarily used for chopping meat, etc. It bad a Latin inscription around the rim, inside, but Dr. Brewster cannot recall it. He was presented with the bowl, accepted it, and preserved it for many years. Dr. Brewster thinks there was no spoon given with his bowl, and there seems to be some difference of opinion as to whether one was presented in 1869, although Mr. Robert P. Field, '72, says that there was both spoon and bowl in that year; that he presented them to the "bowl-man," and that be -kept pieces of them for some years. He says also, by the way, that it was then the custom for the "bowl-man" of one year to present the bowl the following year, and that he himself was chosen to do this only because Mr. Brewster was absent. At any rate the spoon was becoming unimportant, the chief interest of the event now centering about the placing of the man in the bowl.

December, 1869, marks a new epoch in the custom, for in this year the first bowl was broken. The story of the affair, as related by Mr. Field, Mr. Louis C. Madeira, '72, Mr. C. P. Keith, '73, and others, is as follows: The lowest honor mail was Mr. James N. Stone, '73, of Philadelphia, who, upon hearing his name read out in chapel promptly bolted. Provost Stillé held the Sophomore class for some minutes, but when released they rushed after Stone, who had fled to his father's dry-goods store, on Chestnut, above Eighth street. He was filially persuaded to come out, and was marched back to the campus. Even then, however, he did not submit quietly to the presentation, but seized the bowl and threw it on the ground, where it broke, being made of soft wood, and a struggle ensued on the part of the two classes for the pieces. Mr. Louis C. Madeira secured one and still has it. Mr. Robert Andersen, '73, illustrates the spirit that prevailed then by relating that a Sophomore who badly tore an overcoat Mr. Andersen wore stopped fighting long enough to beg his pardon.

Mr. Andersen also gives a description of the bowl of the fol lowing year, December, 1870. (The day was probably Friday, the 23rd). It was of white pine, about eighteen inches in diameter and an inch thick, and on the rim appeared '73's class motto, Per Augusta ad Augusta. The custom was well established now in the form it preserved for many years. There was a hot fight over the bowl-man, Mr. William H. M. Bickley, '74, who finally escaped up Ninth street. Dr. Brewster, who was then a junior, says blood was spilled in this struggle. The contest raged fiercely along the line of ailanthus trees in front of the college building, and across the adjacent campus. One distinguished alumnus says that be had to borrow sufficient clothing to get to the Delta Psi rooms at 927 Chestnut street, where he remained until a friend went to his home for another outfit. The bowl, apparently, was not broken.

The fight of 1871, between '74 and '73, was on December 22nd of that year. Hostilities began in the hall-way of the old college building, and the battle was waged out the Ninth street entrance to the campus, and from there to the street, where, according to the testimony of an eminent president of a Philadelphia trust company, it was broken by the aid of cobblestones and other handy missiles. Mr. William T. Elliott, '75, of Philadelphia, has a piece of this bowl, and of the one used the next year, and he says they were still of the common wooden sort used in the earlier contests. The bowl-man was George Maris, '75, now deceased. There is no record that he was put in the bowl, and as the latter was broken it should, no doubt, be regarded as a victory for the Freshmen.

This was the last fight on the old Ninth street campus. Before the next fall the College was established in the buildings in West Philadelphia, and the fight took place between the classes Of '75 and '76, in and around the new College Hall. The fact that the fight was partly "around" College Hall had important effects upon the cuticle of the participants. To quote Mr. Effingham B. Morris, '75, "the fight was pursued with varying fortune over the hills and valleys of the surrounding country, which, at that time, was principally composed of tin cans, ashes, and brick-bats." It began in the hallway, just outside of the Chapel, was continued from there on down the stairway to the basement into what was in those days termed the "Assembly Room" (now Room 16, used by the Department of Mineralogy), and then fared forth to the south campus, where Houston Hall now stands, and finally around the east end of the College building to Woodland avenue. From all accounts it was a strenuous battle, with a farcical ending. For it is related, (Univ. Magazine, Feb'y, 1885) that the bowl-man, Edward Hazlehurst, '76, [* Why Mr. Hazlehurst was chosen does not appear. The minutes of the Faculty name Mr. J. J. J. Moore as lowest third honor man.] deliberately jumped into the bowl to avoid being fought over, and it is also said that the bowl, after being gallantly defended, was by accident broken by a Sophomore! Mr. W. T. Elliott, '75, says there was a spoon with this bowl and the one of 1871. But it must have disappeared as an annual feature about this time.

The fight of December 24th, 1873, according to '74's Record, was so fierce that "the tender-hearted Provost, shocked at the atrocities of our young friends who have recently come among us, rushed bravely into the fray, intent upon collaring some of the most conspicuous spirits." This is the first evidence of faculty interest in the custom. The Provost's well-meant effort failed, however, and the two lower classes, '76 and '77, assisted Sy most of the juniors and Seniors, who, in those days, usually took a hand in the affair, fought it to a finish. The Record also comments upon the danger in fighting over the rough ground in the rear of the building. The bowl was broken. The bowl-man was Edmund R. Tatham, '77, who appears to have been roughly handled, and nearly asphyxiated.

Mr. Tatham's experience was, however, not so bad as that of Mr. Henry S. Jefferys, '78, the bowl-man in the fight of December 24th, 1874, between '77 and '78. Besides having other unpleasant features this struggle, says the Record, was in mud two feet deep. The fact that his class broke the bowl did not console Mr. Jefferys, who came perilously near having his brains knocked out on the stone steps of College Hall. An article in the first issue of the University Magazine, November 1st, 1875, comments on a pamphlet issued shortly before by Mr. Jefferys, who apparently hoped to have the fight modified or abolished. The Magazine writer agreed that the fight was too fierce and brutal, but hoped the custom might be continued in some less objectionable form. This marks the beginning of a public sentiment against the fight, which has probably been renewed with more or less vigor every year since.

Mr. Jefferys' protest and the subsequent agitation evidently had at least some immediate effect. The faculty appears to have seriously discussed the advisability of forbidding the custom, and the Record of '76 says that as a result the affair of December 24th, 1875, was "by no means so ferocious as usual." It was, however, sufficiently interesting to the bowl-man, Mr. (now Rev.) Alexander Aden Powell, whose account is as follows:

"At the end of the reading of the announcements in Chapel, there was a 'craning' of necks to get a view of the victim--I think the word 'rubber' was not used in such connection in those times. Then the question was asked me, "Will you stand the fight?' Of course, I said yes, though I knew at the time, I imagine, that Mr. Jefferys, the bowl-man of the previous year, had .had a pretty rough time of it. Then came Chapel dismissal and the fight. So far as I remember the only time I felt the slightest fear was while I was in the midst of that struggling, fighting mass, rushing down the stairway. Had we lost our footing and fallen, more than one, I think, would have been crushed. We reached the campus in safety, however, and then came the real fight. The Freshmen and juniors were allies, while the Sophomores and Seniors occupied a similar relation. Fortunately, I had a strong 'body-guard.' The class Of '79 was one of the strongest classes up to that time. I was surrounded by my 'body-guard' and kept in perfect safety. I do not think I was really touched by more than one or two Sophomores during the entire contest. Finding that I could not be reached, the bowl became the center of the fight. Meanwhile, if I remember correctly, it began to rain. After awhile those about me said that I had better go home. I thought it would be cowardly to leave, but they gave me to understand that the fight would not be over me any more, so I took this advice. Suppose I insert here a reference to the matter that I find in my journal of Friday, December 24, 1875: "Went to the University to-day to get my averages for the term. Averages of the students of 1st, 2nd and 3rd honor were read out. Mine happened to be 12.20, the lowest of 3rd honor men. So I was bowl-man. But I was well-supported by my class, as well as by the juniors, and the fight concentrated on the bowl, in which the Sophomores wished to put me, but, while unobserved by my opponents, I went into the University, got my coat, went out of a back window, took a Darby road car and came for the ferry. I afterwards learned that the bowl was broken.' I was told that G. R. Pike, of our class, who remained with me as one of my guards, a powerful fellow by his appearance, after I left, went and joined in the fight over the bowl, worked his way into it, and was the one to break it. G. R. Pike (now Rev.), hag since gained quite a reputation as the author of the 'Divine Drama.' The foregoing will, perhaps, give you an idea of the 'Bowl Fight' as conducted in those early days." Pieces of this bowl are still treasured by several members of '79.

This class had also the distinction of being the first to come out of the fight with an unbroken bowl since the year that there began to be a real contest. This was probably due, in part, at least, to the fact that the bowl was well made. The Magazine, of January, 1877, complains that the custom of making the bowls so thick and strong was interfering with the interest of the fight. The Magazine says, also, that the fight of this year, which occurred on December 22nd, 1876, was a tame affair. The bowl-man, Mr. William B. Patton, '80, was spirited down the small staircase that runs from the chapel to what was then the faculty room (now the bursar's office), and thus escaped. Mr. Powell says: "As in previous years, the fight was then for the bowl. Our class finally got possession of it; worked around with it until they got it under one of the windows, I think to the right of the main entrance of the College building as you face it, passed it up into the window and saved it unbroken." It was afterward presented to Mr. Powell at '79's class-day. One reason why the fight was "tame" may have been that very few of the juniors took part in it, Mr. Jefferys, then of that class, having succeeded in getting a number of them to pledge themselves in advance not to fight.

There is very little to say of the contest of December 24th, 1877, between '80 and '81. There were two "lowest third honor" men of equal rank, viz.: Mr. Edwin Clifford Lewis and Mr. William H. Fox. Mr. Lewis was chosen for the honor, and led the fight for his class. The Freshmen were victorious and the bowl was broken. The next year, December 24th, 1878, there were three "lowest third honor" men-doubtless by collusion of the faculty, says the Record of '79--but a little thing like that was not allowed to interfere with what was by this time regarded as a hoary tradition. Mr. (Dr.) Frederick A. Packard '82, was selected, and this time the Sophomores won. Mr. Packard went into the bowl. The version of the Record of '82 is that he first escaped, but afterward returned to the struggle, and the Record says, "'82 put her own man into the bowl." just how it was done does not appear, However, it is certain the bowl remained intact, and was afterward presented to Mr. Packard.

The fight of December 4th, 1879, between '82 and '83, is famous for its portentous consequences. There were two men of equal grade, Elliston J. Morris and Joseph W. Thompson, and the latter "stood the fight." It was a hot fight and the classes were equally matched. So when both sides were exhausted a halt was called, it was agreed to call it a draw, and the bowl was by common consent voted to the Philomathean Society. This was Chapter I. Now the plot thickens. The bowl remained in the custody of the society until '82's Senior year. Then one night the members of "Philo" who were Seniors packed a meeting and voted the bowl back to '82, who wished to present it on class-day to Mr. W. MacPherson Hornor. This was Chapter II.

When '83 heard of this war was declared at once. The class engaged the services of counsel (Messrs. Lewis and Landreth), and asked the courts for an injunction restraining the society from giving over the bowl. E. Coppee Mitchell, '55, appeared for '82. The case was docketed as C. Oscar Beasley, ('83), et al. vs. W. M. Hornor, ('82), et.al., and was heard before the late judge Allison. Mr. Mitchell argued that the society was an incorporated body and could alienate its own property. But judge Allison, in a lengthy opinion, held that the bowl could not be so alienated without the consent of every bona fide member, but must be held in trust for future members. So "Philo" kept the bowl, and still has it. But '82 accomplished her chief object, which was to exhibit the bowl at her class-day. The next year was established the custom of allowing the Sophomores to keep their bowl, if not broken, for presentation at class-day to the second most popular man in the class.

The Freshmen won the fight between '83 and '84. It was postponed until the end of the second term, that is till April 13, 1881. There were again two men to choose from, Mr. James W. MacBride and Mr. William M. Price. The Record of '81 says the former was "decided upon as the doomed man." It declares further, that "they broke a fence, a lamp-post, a fire-plug and the bowl." The juniors were a potent factor in the fray. There were strenuous scenes again during the fight between '84 and '85, which occurred December 23, 1881. The bowl-man, Mr. (Dr.) Randolph Faries, '85, escaped in less than ten minutes "to a little ale-house across Darby Road," and history says that he arrived there wearing only his shoes. By the way, the "little ale-house," kept by the genial "Otto," was the recognized haven of refuge for bowl-men for a number of years. They broke another fire-plug in this fight, but the bowl survived the attack and the affair was a draw.

In the academic year 1882-83 the College abandoned the threeterm rule, dividing the year, as now, into two terms, the first term ending with the "mid-year examinations" in January or early February. The bowl fight of February 5, 1883, was therefore at the end of the first term. It was also the last of the fights under the old marking system on a scale of 15. Mr. (Dr.) William Campbell Posey, '86, whose average was 12.02, was the bowl-man. He was taken "over to Otto's" in four minutes, which was record time. The bowl was not broken. There was a draw also when '86 met '87 on January 31, 1884. The bowl-man was Mr. Alan D. Whittaker, '87. The crowd made free, as usual, with such city property as fire-plugs and other things needful for the success of the occasion. This involved an altercation with several policemen, among others one "Murphy, No. 999," who, for several years thereafter was the butt of many a rough college jest. He is, by the way, still on the force, and still at the 37th and Woodland Avenue station.

The Record of the class of '86 says of this affair that it was "the last great bowl-fight, for now, owing to rules and regulations, it is even less harmful* than football." This refers to the action of the authorities requiring the contest of January 30th, 1885, to be held in what was then the "new athletic field" at 36th and Spruce (now the big quadrangle of the dormitories). A set of rules was agreed upon and Dr. J. William White was the referee. There were fixed boundaries set, and there was a time limit for the escape of the bowl-man and for the duration of the fight. The rules, which appear to have been adopted in the spring of 1884, also provided that the bowl should be of cherry, not less than 22 inches in diameter, six inches deep, and not more than one inch thick. There were two low honor men, but Mr. William E. Mott, '88, was selected. The Sophomores claimed they put him in the bowl. The Record of '88 says that the referee "saw the shadow of Mott's arm on the bowl and thought it was inhabited by Mott." However, Dr. White decided in favor of the Sophomores, and the bowl was saved.

The fight between '88 and '89 on February 9th, 1886, was under the same rules, and on the same field. The bowl-man, Edward W. Mumford, '89, has a cheerful recollection of being squeezed down into four inches of muddy snow for fifteen minutes, the time limit agreed upon, when he went free and the Freshmen vainly attempted to smash the bowl. The next issue of the Pennsylvanian says the fight was tame, and that there was a general feeling of dissatisfaction at the exclusion of the upper classes. There was erected in the field; by the way, a low pyramidal monument of cut stone as an aid in the smashing process. That stone marks to-day an angle in a path over in the Botanical Garden, its war record forgotten in that peaceful scene.

There was no bowl-fight in the college year 1886-87. There was in college a growing feeling that the fight in its restricted form lacked interest. Moreover, on January 5th, 1887, the athletic association passed a resolution forbidding the use of the athletic field for bowl-fights after the current year, and criticising the custom as tending to discourage proper class athletic spirit. They allowed the fight of that year, as a bowl had already been made, but hoped '89 and 'go would "not avail themselves of the permission given." On January 14th the class of '89, after a warm debate, adopted a resolution against holding the fight, because it had so long been under faculty disfavor, because it had ceased to be exciting or even interesting, and because of its harmful influence on athletics and on class and college spirit. Upon this the Pennsylvanian commented editorially: "If we cannot have an old-timer let us yield gracefully."

However, the old custom was too vigorous to be killed by this lapse of a year. In fact, the break lent it new life, for it wiped out the rules which, as the students thought, had hampered and emasculated the contest. It appeared in full vigor the following year, taking the faculty somewhat by surprise. The fight was waged on the campus east and south of College Hall, and on the adjoining streets. The Juniors and Seniors joined in eagerly, as in the old days, and the Medicals also took a hand. In fact, they succeeded in stealing the bowl from the younger college men, and spirited it away into the Medical laboratory building. It was afterward returned unharmed, however. The bowl-man was Mr. James Starr, '91, and the fight goes down to history as a draw--the usual result since the bowls have been armorplated.

The Record of '92 says of the fight of February 1, 1889, that there were two lowest honor men, both conspicuous for their absence. Mr. Percival V. French, '92, was elected bowl-man by his class, and after a fierce struggle, was carried to the hospital. The injuries, however, of neither the bowl-man or the bowl were serious, and the affair was a draw. There was the same result on February 3rd, 1890, when the bowl-man was Louis E. A. Greenleaf, '93. The Pennsylvanian commented upon the almost entire absence of upper class-men from the contest.

The abolishment in 1890 of the old system of awarding honors at "mid-years" robbed the custom of one of its most picturesque and important features. For nearly, if not quite, thirty years the affair had pivoted upon the idea that the "lowest Freshman third honor man" was especially deserving of some attention at the hands of Sophomores. Now there was no such honor man to honor. However, there was still the bowl and the fight, and a bowl-man could be elected. So elected he was for the fight of February 2, 1891, in the person of Mr. Harry E. Hayward, '94. There was much confusion and misunderstanding over the event. The Record Of '93 says the Sophomores elected Mr. Hayward, and the Record of '94 says he elected himself! However, it seen-is clear the Freshmen were not expecting a fight that day and were taken by surprise. The Pennsylvanian says Mr. Hayward was touched to the bowl. But both sides appear to have called it a draw.

The next bowl-fight was held on the "old athletic field," where most of the affairs since then have been settled. The date was February 12th, 1892, the participating classes were '94 and '95, and the bowl-man was Mr. Walter Martin, '95. It was "carried on in a more gentlemanly manner than in the past years," and ended in a draw. It will be noted that another old feature of the fight had disappeared. There was no longer a fixed day, (the day when results were announced). In the past decade there has been a gradual tendency toward a date in the spring, when warm weather may be expected. The contest of February 17th, 1893, ended in the same way, Mr. (now Rev.) James M. Stifler, '96, officiating as bowl-man. The Medicals took a hand again in this fight, as they did in that of March 16th, 1894, their object being to steal the bowl. Departmental jealousies were strong in those days. Thanks to the Houston Club, the dormitories, athletics and other unifying influences, the old bitter lines have been practically obliterated. The bowl-man selected by '97 was Mr. Algernon S. Uhler, who went un-bowled, and again a draw was recorded. Mr. Henry G. Bartol, '98, was the next bowl-man, and he escaped in fourteen minutes, his time limit being fifteen. The bowl was unbreakable, as usual.

On March 20th, 1896, the Medicals at last succeeded. The fight was held in the old field after many postponements, the bowl-man being Mr. Charles C. Harrison, Jr., '99. The fight was a draw, and '98's Record says the class took the bowl back to College Hall. But it did not appear in the Senior class picture of '98, and the Record of '99 insists that it was "sawed up by Charlie Wharton" (the well-known football player). There are those who say that the walls of more than one fraternity house are to-day decorated with pieces of '98's bowl.

Although there was no fight in 1887 the average of one a year since the first contest has been maintained, for in 1897 there were two. The first was an impromptu campus affair, precipitated by the Sophomores on the day the Freshmen gathered for their class picture. The Record of '99 says that Dean Lamberton essayed in person, but unsuccessfully, to stop this fight. There was another on March 18th, 1897, on the athletic field, the bowl-man being a Japanese student, Mr. Seizaburo Yasukawa, of the class of 1900. Both fights were draws. In the fight between 1900 and 1901, which took place March 28th, 1898, the bowl-man, Mr. Thomas P. Stevenson, '01, fainted, and had to be carried from the field. The crowd of spectators greatly interfered with this, as with most of the later fights. This was also a draw, but next year the Freshmen (class of 1902) won. The bowl-man was Leon S. Hirsh, '02. The contest was originally scheduled for April 12th, 1899, but the Sophomores did not appear, and the referee, Mr. Joseph C. McCracken, awarded the fight to the Freshmen. Neither side was satisfied, however, and after much bickering over rules the fight was held on May 18th, 1899. A system of counting points was agreed upon. The Freshmen won five points by getting their man off tin-bowled. At the end of the second half the Sopohomores had 16 hands on the bowl and the Freshmen 13; these counted each one point, and the 13 Freshman points thus won, added to the five already mentioned, gave that class 18 points to 16 for the Sophomores, and the Freshmen won. There was more squabbling over rules the following year, but the fight was finally held on March 22nd, 1900, with Mr, David H. L. Kneedler, '03 as bowl-man. The Medicals and upper classmen interfered somewhat, and there was the traditional draw.

The Class of 1904 hit upon a novel scheme for outwitting the Sophomores. Among the members of the Class was a pair of twins who bore a remarkable resemblance to each other. The plan was to elect one of them bowl-man, and let the Sophomores guess during the fight whether they were pursuing the right one. But the Sophomores, warned in time, kidnapped one of the twins, and thus spoiled the game. Then the Freshmen elected Mr. Frank L. Cloud, 1904, the bowl-man. Neither side won. The following year the rules provided for two twentyminute halves, the first for the fight over the bowl-man, Mr. Howard L. Fortiner, '05 (since deceased), and the other for the struggle over the bowl. Mr. Fortiner escaped in three minutes. The Record of 1904 says there was a "third half" to the fight, as the Freshmen, after the decision was rendered, tried to steal the bowl, but without success. The bowl-man, Mr. Frederick R. Yost, in the fight of April 22nd, 1903, between '05 and '06, made a still better record in his escape, being hoisted by his comrades over the fence in just one and one-half minutes. The Freshmen thus won the first half, and they also captured the second and the fight, for at the call of time they had 36 hands on the bowl to 18 for the Sophomores. During this fight one man, Mr. Armstrong, was injured and was taken to the hospital.

The Class of 1906 won again in its Sophomore year, the fight being held on April 12th, 1904. They drew the first half, for although the bowl-man, Mr. Carl C. Block, '07, was not bowled, his escape before the time limit was prevented. A count of hands on the bowl at the close of the second half showed 26 for the Sophomores and 17 for the Freshmen. Several men were injured during the struggle, which occupied 35 minutes. There were a referee, an umpire, and a time-keeper as officials. The last fight, and the thirty-seventh since the earliest struggle over a bowl, was on April 14th, 1905, the bowl-man being Mr. Edward M. Bennis, '08. The Sophomores won by touching him with. the bowl in the first half, and by showing 26 hands to 17 for the Freshmen at the close of the second half. The Sophomores, under the present rules, would have retained the bowl in any case.

This is the story of the Bowl Fight. It lasted for a generation and survived the lopping-off of many of its early features. The sentiment that originally inspired it is totally lacking. From an attempt at the mild hazing of one Freshman it has developed into an organized athletic contest between two entire classes. Yet, in appearance, except for the formal rules and time limits, one notes little difference. There is still the pursuit of the bowl-man, and the endeavor to bring him and the bowl together. There is still the struggle for possession of the bowl. One hears alumni of the seventies and eighties express very often their belief that the more recent fights are gentle pink teas compared to the affairs previous to 1885. I know it is heresy, but I beg leave to assert that even here there is little to choose between the present-day bowl-fight and the "old-timer." We magnify those college battles we were in, I fear. We love to think how Jones rushed to cover in a costume not calculated for public exhibition on a mid-winter day; and we dwell with tender horror upon Smith's broken rib and other like painful events, and we think how successfully sanguinary and desperate it all was. Well, such scenes have been repeated over and over again in the past decade, in the bowl fight and other less formal engagements. Some of the injuries received have been chronicled above. No, even in its casualties the battle over the bowl-fight is not very different from what it was in the days when it was waged by the fathers of young men now in college.

This being the case, one is often asked, why allow such an injurious thing to continue? Why not eliminate it along with other "brutalizing" traditions and tendencies in undergraduate life? I hold no brief here for either side of this question, I will only say what, after all, must be obvious, that a custom that has left treasured memories in the minds of several thousand men is not to be lightly waved aside, and the decision as to whether or not the bowl-fight is an outgrown relic of barbarism may be safely left to the gentlemen who have watched the bowlfight and the undergraduate for many years, and are familiar with the peculiar faults and virtues of both.

EDWARD W. MUMFORD, '89 C.