Mercurii Typis
I remember how I myself distrusted this particular project, which was wholly hers. When she began to plan out the “parts” in advance,—the Rev. Mr. Brooks, the foremost of German translators, with his Teutonic themes; the agricultural Waring with his potatoes; Harte on Pacific women; Parton with his New York aldermen, and I myself with two recent papers mingled in one,—I ventured to remonstrate. “They will not write these Commencement orations,” I said. “Then I will write them,” responded Mrs. Howe, firmly. “They will not deliver them,” I said. “Then I will deliver them,” she replied; and so, in some cases, she practically did. She and I presided, dividing between us the two parts of Professor Goodwin’s Oxford gown for our official adornment, to enforce the dignity of the occasion, and the Societas Urbanoruralis, or Town and Country Club, proved equal to the occasion. An essay on “rhinosophy” was given by “Fanny Fern” (Mrs. Parton), which was illustrated on the blackboard by this equation, written slowly by Mrs. Howe and read impressively:—
“Nose + nose + nose = proboscis
Nose - nose - nose = snub.”
She also sang a song occasionally, and once called up a class for recitations from Mother Goose in six different languages; Professor Goodwin beginning with a Greek version of “The Man in the Moon,” and another Harvard man (now Dr. Gorham Bacon) following up with
“Heu! iter didilum
Felis cum fidulum
Vacca transiluit lunam.
Caniculus ridet