Generations Of Princetonians Love Tradition

Although white shoes in a country club may symbolize the Princeton man to Harvard undergraduates, to the sons of old Nassau Princeton means perhaps more than anything else a jumble of queer and extraneous traditions. Bell clappers, cannon, haircuts, and "dinks" all are words whose significance makes the nostalgic Tiger grad's heart warm, and causes him to chuckle and slap his thigh at the thought of his gay college years.

Many of these traditions died with the war, but Tiger-town still has its share of zany doings. Most of them are annual events dealing with the freshman class, which in Princeton is about as popular with the rest of the University as an untrained puppy at a bridge party. The "frosh" are alternately persecuted and pampered until the class has become a close-knit, self-reliant, if a little obnoxious, unit.

Perhaps the best-known of these traditions is the annual bell-clapper escapade. Every fall as early as possible the freshman class is allowed to steal the clapper of the hell in Nassau Hall's tower in order to prevent it from tolling the hours of classes. If there is no bell, then there are no classes.

As it is a great honor to be among the group that steals the bell, competition is hard between various bunches of freshmen to see who can carry off the prize first. The University doesn't mind the theft once a year, although the proctors and campus cops keep a sharp eye out and apprehend anyone they can who acts even faintly suspicious near the tower. To elude the watchful constabulary and get the clapper is every Tiger cub's dream.

So great is the enthusiasm for the theft that many classes have been known to foster several separate and independent groups who have not only stolen the first clapper, but its replacements.

Dean of the College Francis R. B. Godolphin frowns on multiple thefts, however, and after the clapper has disappeared once, he brings disciplinary action. "The clappers are too expensive to replace," Godolphin says, "and although they are allowed to keep the first one if they aren't caught, from then on the freshmen can't do any more legal stealing."

Tool Collector

Godolphin has in his office, (besides a collection of rare knives and swords, which he denies using on the culprits) a wastebasket full of captured tools. This collection of implements taken by cops and proctors from unsuccessful freshman thieves includes one poker, two rusty hollow iron pipes, one hammer, one screwdriver, pliers, one stillson wrench, one car tire wrench, and one unidentifiable tool. He says that this basketful is only part of his original set of tools, many of which have been picked up later by their owners.

This year the bellclapper escapade gained national notoriety when the members of the Denver Harvard Club briefed the Denver members of the class of 1955 in the best and most efficient way of pilfering the clapper. Apparently the Colorado alumni were anxious to renew their undergraduate days by hanging the clapper in their own clubhouse if their sons were successful in stealing it.

Pictured at right is the tug-of-war in the sophomore, freshman canespree held every fall. This is the feature attraction in an afternoon of hoopla and capering which includes track races and field events. The competition is always between members of the sophomore and freshman classes, and is part of the fall sophomore "hazing" of the new frosh. In this picture, taken last year, the freshmen are in the process of winning the tug-of-war, and beginning a two-year reign over their opposition, continuing this year as sophomores.

Actually this year the clapper was stolen early, too early for an enterprising group of freshmen who made the dangerous ascent to the belfry only to find it gone. Not really knowing what the quarry looked like, they took the most mobile 'thing left--the mechanism of the clock. Without clapper, works or hands the Nassau Hall tower could neither strike the hour nor even point the time. This was not the first time however, that something other than the clapper had been tampered with. Back in the nineties freshmen upturned the bell, poured boiling water in it, and let it freeze, cracking the bell, and thus stopping the ringing for the year.

Princeton's famous cannon on the green behind Nassau Hall is another focus point for annual Tiger traditions. It is here every spring that the senior class holds its "horsing" class day exercises. In this ceremony all seniors gather in a group and while smoking clay pipes, make fun of the deans. At one time or another the senior representatives have started off around Nassau Hall with the deans on piggy back, but come round the other corner riding their masters.

Goldolphin has been known to ride seniors around Nassau Hall in a rickshaw, and his famous grin prompted a song rhyming "grin" and "sin" with the sentiment that it was from the latter that he got his income. At the end of the ceremonies, all the seniors break their pipes on the cannon. The sundial is another place reserved for seniors, with steps on which only members of the graduating class can sit.

Mystery of the Cannon

This cannon, stuck muzzle first into the ground, is traditionally painted with the numerals of the graduating class. Last year a giant orange "51" was mysteriously changed to an equally giant "'54" by the then-freshman class. Just as mysteriously the following night it was changed to a "'24," which happens by some coincidence to be the Princeton class of several important University officials, including Godolphin. The culprit has not yet been found.

Before the first football game of every season the freshman class follows the band down to the stadium in the "Peerade." Two years ago the class of '53, then freshmen, wouldn't submit to the sophomore persecution and kidnapped the president of the sophomore class, taking him down to the field bound and gagged before releasing him.

Such freshman retaliation against its superiors has good foundations. Traditionally the frosh have undergone a period of indoctrination much the same as the "hazing" of other schools. At Princeton their particular antagonists are the sophomores, who make their life miserable in the early weeks of college.

The "drink" or beany is the freshman badge of distinction. Any sophomore may order any freshman to wear his "dink" and if he refuses, which is often the case, he is virtually attacked by any number of sophomores. Of

In the annual "horsing" ceremonies of class day held every spring, the members of the Tiger senior class poke fun at their masters and deans. Various responses are received, shock, surprise, or distaste, but one man who is noted for his good-humored handling of the situation is Dean of the College FRANCIS R. B. GODOLPHIN (left, as rickshaw boy). Godolphin is shown above halfway through his race around Nassau Hall, dragging a Princeton senior in a rickshaw. According to tradition the race begins with Godolphin as the passenger, but somewhere on the other side the two change, and Godolphin comes out the laborer. Every year the highjinks at "horsing" change, but one constant is the tradition of the seniors ridiculing the professors, singing songs, and smoking clay pipes together. The ceremony closes with every senior breaking his pipe against the cannon.

course a riot ensues, and if the freshmen win it, they the released from the fortune of having to wear "dinks" again.

Another sophomore highjink is a little more lasting, and more humiliating for the freshman. The poor victim in question is called upon the telephone and asked whether or not he is a freshman. On the affirmative answer he is told to get down to the freshman meeting quick in such and such a hall. The freshman, not suspecting fraud and deceit, then goes out into the hall, where he is jumped on by a squad of sophomores who shave a strip down the top of his hair with a pair of clippers. When so marked it takes more than a hat to conceal the class of the victim.

In some cases the sophomores don't even wait till the victim comes out of his room, but go in to get him. On one occasion this fall the proctors were called to stop a fight which ended up in the infirmary. The boy was only shocked, however, and was out the next day.

Not all the fighting between the freshmen and sophomores is so disorganized and spontaneous, however. The annual "canespree" in October is a traditional event. The name descended from ancient times, and has since lost most of its meaning, but it refers to a three-foot cane that one of the two classes tries to wrest from the grasp of the other. Nowadays the canespree has become a much larger series of events, and the name-event is not as important as the tug-o'-war or the track and field events that now make up the program.

Cocktails For Friendship

This year's sophomores won the contests for the second time in succession, taking it last year as freshmen as well. In celebration of this feat, the class of '51 gave the class of '55 a cocktail party which puts the two classes on better terms.

The feeling of cohesion inside one's own class in Tigertown, fathered and fostered by these common tribulations during the early part of freshman year, soon becomes a part of the class character and remains a part of it throughout the college course. At the end, the senior class feels just as class-conscious as it did as cowering freshmen.

The traditions go farther than this, too. They give Princeton its best and its worst qualities--the best, a feeling of good fellowship, friendliness and unity; the worst, a rah-rah chauvinistic attitude about itself and its accomplishments.

SEND YOUR SON TO YALE