But whatever fame Professor Perry may have attained in the fields of literature, to Williams men he is the teacher.  In The Amateur Spirit he has written:  “Your born teacher is as rare as a poet....  Once in a while a college gets hold of one.  It does not always know that it has him, and proceeds to ruin him by over-driving, the moment he shows power; or to let another college lure him away for a few hundred dollars more a year.  But while he lasts—­and sometimes, fortunately, he lasts till the end of a long life—­he transforms the lecture-hall as by enchantment.  Lucky is the alumnus who can call the roll of his old instructors, and among the martinets and the pedants and the piously inane can here and there come suddenly upon a man; a man who taught him to think, or helped him to feel, and thrilled him with a new horizon.”

Those of us who have been under Professor Perry’s instruction in the class-room must smile to note how—­all unconsciously—­he has here portrayed what we know him to be.  Scholarly in his tastes, clear in his thinking, simple and direct in the expression of his thought, and always human in his personality, he “taught us to think, he helped us to feel, and he thrilled us with a new horizon.”  To us he seemed the ideal teacher, and as teacher and as man withal he has won the loyalty of Harvard, Princeton, and Williams men alike.

SUGGESTIONS

OVER THE HILLS

G.B.D.

“Mister,” my companion in the smoking-car addressed me rather timidly, “hev you ever bin to Ebenezer?”

I looked at him a moment:  kindly eyes, tanned face, grizzled beard; clothing of that indescribable, faded greenish brown which had lost all resemblance to its original color.

“Yes,” I answered, “I’ve been there a number of times.”

A moment’s pause; then, “Quite a sizeable place, so folks say.”

I assented, wondering what was to come.

“An’ to think I’ve never seen it—­never bin to Ebenezer in all my life, an’ I live right back here a piece, not ten miles over the hills from Ebenezer.  But if this here train stays on the track till we git there,” he added with some pride, “I’m goin’ to see it.

“I’m goin’ to see Ebenezer, jest to think of it!  Well sir, it makes me all het up.  Many’s the time when I come in fr’m chores, I’d set by the fire an’ read the Ebenezer Weekly Review and Advertiser; an’ there I’d see, ’Ebenezer items:  Squire Hodge’s store painted; the Ebenezer Dry Goods Emporium moved into new and more commodorious quarters,’ et cetery.  Then I’d say to Mandy, ‘Mandy, some day we’ll go to Ebenezer.’  But we never went.  Well, I s’pose it’s all fer the best.”  He sighed and shook his head.