To the Class of ’89.
On behalf of my classmates, Gentlemen of the Committee, and friends, it gives me great pleasure to welcome you here this evening, and we sincerely hope that in the following short account of our progress during the eight past months, both in shorthand and typewriting classes, you may share, to some extent, our satisfaction.
I shall not attempt to portray our initial struggles with the dots and lines, but rather dwell on the time when, at the rate of a word in five minutes, we could, with the confidence of beginners, write the short but expressive sentences:
The cow eats grass!
See the dog run!
From this time under the able guidance of our teachers, we steadily progressed, until our efforts have culminated in the success gratifying to ourselves, our teachers, and our many friends.
In typewriting our progress has been as encouraging as in Phonography. From slowly picking out the words: “William Jex quickly caught five dozen Republicans,” a sentence which not only exhausted all the letters of the alphabet, but in our attempts to decipher which, after writing, exhausted our ingenuity as well, we passed to the time when legal documents and business letters could be run off with an ease which at the beginning seemed almost impossible.
Let us pause a moment to consider the advantages of these two arts: first and chiefly, they afford us the means of gaining a livelihood in a way more agreeable than many others; secondly, in the taking of notes of lectures upon various arts and sciences we become acquainted with these subjects to an extent which would otherwise require much special study.
How then can we be otherwise than grateful to those who have placed these advantages within our reach?