Shepherd's Crook

Taken from: 1912 Royal Purple Yearbook

"Shepherd's Crook"
by Floyd B. Nichols                                                            

When George L. Clothier, [1892], planted an ivy vine just north of the east, main entrance to Anderson Hall, with a new spade, he did not know he was starting an important feature of college life.  That was class day, 1892, and he and his fellow classmates were bidding farewell to the college buildings.  He was a student of agriculture, and he believed that a spade would symbolize efficient labor, and would be an emblem that would express the real sentiments and ideals of the college.  So, after he had planted the vine, he presented the spade, after a lengthy address, to Edmund C. Abbott, of the class of 1893.  The class of 1892 then went on its way, into the world of affairs.  Soon the ivy died, but the custom that had been started lived.

Mr. Abbott was not so careful with the spade as the present classes are with the crook.  He put it in a glass cage in the south corridor, on the second floor of Anderson hall, and there it remained most of the next year.  Fairchild Hall was being built at that time.  The class of 1893 decided that the class oration would be given when the class stone was put into the building, and that the spade would be sent to the juniors with a note to the effect that the class of 1893 did not need it any longer.  This did not please the juniors.  There was considerable trouble between the classes.

One dark night in May, 1893, Isaac Jones of the class of 1894, took the spade and put it in his locker in the basement of the old horticultural hall, where it stayed for about a week.  Then, fearing it would be discovered, he took it out to the Kimball farm, west of Manhattan, and buried it.  He was the first man to get away with a class emblem, and many have followed in his footsteps.  The wrath of the senior class was great, but nothing could be done as no one knew where the spade was buried.  The numerals of the class of 1893 never were placed on the spade.

About a year later, Mr. Jones dug up the spade, and brought it into Manhattan in a guitar case.  He carelessly left the case in the college secretary's office, where some members of the class of 1893 were working, and they promptly appropriated it.  They intended to have their class numerals engraved on it, and pass it down to the class of 1895, but they did not profit from their former experience with Mr. Jones.  He stole it from them again.  The class of 1894 then had its numerals engraved on the handle, and gave the spade to the class of 1895 with great ceremonies.

During the winter of 1894-1895, the spade was kept in one of the downtown rooming houses.  In May, 1895, the greatest series of class fights this college ever has seen began, between the senior and junior classes.  The cause of the disturbance was the refusal of the class of 1895 to give up the spade.  The seniors decided to have the funeral oration for the spade preached the night of class day, and then to throw the spade into the firebox in one of the college boilers.  The juniors heard of this plan, and they all attended the class day exercises, also.  Most of them carried ball bats and other instruments of warfare.

The exercises were held at night in the old chapel.  All of the juniors were excluded, but they surrounded Anderson Hall, after declaring what they intended to do to the first senior who ventured forth.  Ernest H. Freeman preached the funeral sermon, and carefully placed the spade in a coffin, especially made for the occasion.

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