Miscellany, 1887-1899

[notation May '99 3] 33

Dr. D. S. Jordan,

Dear Sir:-

In accordance with Mrs. Stanford's instructions, you will please find enclosed the list of the law books comprising the Library of the late Justice Field, which Mrs. Stanford is about to purchase.

Mrs. Stanford requests that you kindly examine the list, and let her know your opinion.

Very respectfully,

L. M. Rice,

Secretary.

[139] [image: Stanford monogram]

Mr. and Mrs. Leland Stanford present their compliments to Mr. Timothy Hopkins of the Leland Stanford Jr. University and will be pleased to have him visit Palo Alto, on Friday, the 18th of November, to meet and confer with the other trustees.

A train will leave 4th & Townsend Sts. at 8.30 A.M.

Nov 10th 87

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Presented to the Museum by Mrs Leland Stanford June 10th 1903

The Stanford Sequoia

Consecration Amelia W. Truesdell

At the Dedication of the Memorial Church, Stanford University, January 25, 1903.

Before this new-made altar, Lord, Passions and cavilings we lay; All prejudices which would stay Our spirits from the sweet accord With Love, which wrought man's highest good, Not in the controversial creeds; But shone, in serving daily needs, Divine in human brotherhood.

O sweet home-love! this love divine, Interpreting with sorrow's art, How hast thou, on a broken heart, Upreared the spirit's sacred shrine, That other souls may reach the height Of temples builded without hand, Wherein eternal Law shall stand, And God himself shall be the light.

A Stanford Hymn Amelia W. Truesdell

AGAINST the night, the skies disclose Their beauty shadow-fraught; From out the night, a star arose, Through sorrow, gleamed a thought.

But for the grief which sat by death, And dreamed its dream alone, Our Alma ne'er had felt God's breath Turning to life the stone, -

God's breath of love, to purpose warm Transmuting human loss; Revealing life's ideal form To those beneath the cross.

O Stanford, look unto the height! Athene-like, thy youth! Led by thy star, seek thou thy might In time's advancing truth!

From the "Quad," 1904

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Presented by Mrs J. L. Stanford July 1st '03

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For Mrs. Stanford With Compliments and respects of the Author/ (Mrs.) A. W. Truesdell

Two Strangers at the Elizabethan Play

By Amelia W. Truesdell

TIME -- Saturday, March 7, 1903, 10:30 a. m.

Scene -- Corridor before door of Assembly Hall, Stanford University.

Persons -- Two strangers -- men.

First Stranger -- Prithee friend, what brought thee hither? I am right merry to see thee.

Second Stranger -- By my faith I know not, only a great distemper did seize upon my mind and I must needs wander forth in quest of, I know not what. How is it with thee, brother? Why art thou come and what place may this be?

First Stranger -- Thou sayest truly; I know not why I am here, only that by a great drawing which I could in no wise resist, am I come hither, I know not where.

Second Stranger -- These men do look like our kindred except for their strange attire. Let us go in with them and see what this crowd may mean.

First Stranger -- Methinks we be not fittingly arrayed. Mayhap it be the court. The fashion of our apparel --

Second Stranger -- Thou wast ever fond of thine attire, with thy scarfs and ribbons.

First Stranger -- Marry fellow, thou wert not far behind me. These men be a sorry crowd arrayed in black.

Inside of Hall -- (They walk slowly down the centre aisle).

Second Stranger -- Methinks yon varlet is o'er rude. He fetches others to their seats, but looks not to us. Mayhap it is the light. Why have they shut out the day and what manner of blinding light is this! Sirrah, boy, come hither!

First Stranger -- He did not heed thee. He pushed me rudely by the shoulder and begged not my grace. A wellfavored lad, but most ill-mannered.

Second Stranger -- What think you this occasion may be, the men thus attired in black, the one as like the other as two pease in a peascod? Doubtless it is the funeral of some great man, and that is why they turn it into night.

First Stranger -- If it be a funeral why be so many women here in gay apparel?

380 The Stanford Sequoia

Second Stranger -- Right, brother! Thou wast ever to the mark.

First Stranger -- More like it is an execution. The women be always at such things; ghastly scenes be greatly to their liking. Doubtless the gallows is behind yon blood-red curtain.

Second Stranger -- A most strange people. They take no heed to us nor our attire. Marry, if one of them had come into our streets, all the knaves and wenches in London -

First Stranger -- Hold thee, brother! A youth comes from behind the red arras! What thing should such a gorgeous curtain signify?

Second Stranger -- Ha! Mark the boy's array; it is over gay for a funeral page or a hangman's varlet. It is, aye, it is young Hal himself, the prologue boy of the play house, with his yellow hair and grey eyes; his very self. The trumpet! By the gods -

First Stranger -- Hist! It is a play; by the cross, it is a play. A fair youth truly; the trumpet again!

(The curtain rises and they grip each other.)

Both -- It is the SWAN! By the Lord's body, it is the old Swan Play House!

First Stranger -- Done to the line and letter.

Second Stranger -- Verily, it warmeth my heart to see the old place again. See! See! The sign of the play!

Both -- "The London Merchant;" as the Lord lives, it is our own play. Huzzah! (They toss up their caps.)

Second Stranger -- "Beaumont and Fletcher at the Swan." Dost mind the old play bill, Francis, how it read? and every crier in London calling out "Beaumont and Fletcher at the Swan."

First Stranger -- John, it is the play we writ to down the commons.

Second Stranger -- Aye Francis, which all the trade folk of the town were so angered at. Behold! Dost remember the fat grocer on the Bankside? The one with the prating wife with the bag of sweets, and their tall 'prentice boy Ralph? Yonder they come, true to the life, agaping at the stage; the one that stood for the citizen and wife in our play, dost mark? How like! Dost mind thee, how they were nigh to kill us when they saw themselves in the play? I will speak to them. A good morrow to thee, mistress, and to thy good husband and master Ralph; I pray thee tell us - They pass in front of us, the scurvy fellows!

First Stranger -- The boys have forgotten us, John. The knaves! They should know their betters at the sight. There

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The Stanford Sequoia 381

come the gallants on the stage; Sir Henry Clifton with Sir Charles and Master Warren; look on the left of the stage, the true likeness of Sir Thomas Wyatt; aye, aye, it is his grandnephew, Sir Hugh, with my Lord Duke.

Second Stranger -- There is the Lady Markham in yonder stage room, she in the smart red gown, with mistress Jane in blue, and Lady Margery in white.

First Stranger -- Methinks the gallants be over gay. Their apparel might befit his majesty.

Second Stranger -- Look at my Lord and Lady of Rutland and the maiden with them; it is, yes, it is, the beautiful Countess Helene.

First Stranger -- One of thine old flames, John. Forbear; the boy begins. (Resumes later.) Dost see the grocer breaking in on the prologue? Why are all the groundings down here, sitting like lords?

Second Stranger -- If thy grocer shall sit on the stage, why not the commons sit in the pit? Thou wouldst have the grocer to hit off the commons. Dost remember thee of thy contention for't?

First Stranger -- Thou hast lost none of the sharpness of thy wit. Ralph looks the very 'prentice that mixed the powders for us. He mouths his hotspur like Will himself.

Second Stranger -- Yon boy might have had the old beldam to mother, he knows her so well. Dost mind the day we took our new actor to their shop to hear her gossiping with the neighbors, when she pelted us with buns? The termagant had every wench on Bankside at us. Old Ben was nigh to die of laughter at our plight. Thou hadst like to lose us our play with thy satire on the commons who rattled their money bags against the empty stomachs of their betters.

First Stranger -- By my faith, yon boy looks the fat citizengrocer as he had 'prenticed with the braggart for a ten year. He hath the true London shop in him. See, the old dame still eats apples and buns in her same gown of green and red satin. These children please me. We had no better at the Swan or Globe.

Second Stranger -- By Venus and Cupid! See Mistress Luce! I could swear it is a girl. I were in love with her myself an I knew her not for a boy. Truly, a sweet youth!

First Stranger -- Thou would'st ever be in love with a pretty wench an thou didst know she were a boy. The groundlings like the play. They seem a hearty folk though they be of ungentle manners. In truth they clap right smartly. Let's to the stage while the boys dances. Have with thee - up.