Brook Père . . . And Brook Fils

To say nothing of Brook mere, who for years attended to the nourishment of the flagging student brain, and induced the mood for philosophy or (as the case might be) with her stews and sausages and mince; especially, if I remember me, her mince.

Why I should be requested to contribute an appreciation of the Brook dynasty of the past and present generations altogether eludes me, for T can testify only of the old regime. Does the younger Brook, emerging, not from haunts of coot and hern, but from the little room with the telephone, make a sudden sally whenever the feel of laughing girls resound along the corridors? Do the girls retire as awed and speechless as in a former day? Can the grand manner have descended upon the son? I do not know. There is Max Cleghorn's well-remembered Capping song:

Almighty Brook doth wind, and lo!
Thy glorious clocks correctly go,
With rhythmic march, nor fast, nor slow,
Victoria! Victoria!

Is this custom still perpetrated? I know not. Should I seem, therefore, in this short tribute to a family, which has reigned as long as there has been a building on the Old Clay Patch, to be purely laudator temporis acti, please send your complaint to the editors.

The dynasty was founded when the College moved to its Salamanca home in 1906. Mr. J. S. Brook, then appointed the first caretaker, was, until his death in September, 1926, an outstanding personality in College affairs. On him reposed many duties that were hardly curatorial. As traffic officer controlling the entrance-hall and corridors, as policeman checking noise and smoking and other crimes against the academic code, as telephone operator, as "chucker out" from the buildings and library at nine-thirty and other ways he was brought in closest contact with the student body. His functions required the diplomatic touch. In carrying them out he won esteem and affection, and student esteem and affection are never lightly given. The literature of the College is full of references to him. One recalls the Spike', aAnswers to Correspondents:

"J—s Br—k.—We are glad to hear that your book, "The Great Illusion, or How to Avert Ward," is to be published this year." And the Capping Song entitled "The Common Fate" from "The Golden Calf":

All flesh is grass and rank it grows
Where Brookie's cow apart reposes,
And where she's gone Kirk s emu goes
And where Brook s dog no longer noses.

And, as they say in the Women's Column, many others, all betokening that he was, as I have said, an outstanding personality in student affairs and a highly regarded member of our big family.

Mrs. Brook was almost as well-known. In the original building where common rooms were negligible and Brookie forbade gatherings in the hall and there was silence in the library, many regaled themselves far longer than they should in Mrs. Brooks' tea room. When the library wing was erected a larger kitchen gave scope for what was called "a hot course meal," and antiquarians who seek a definition of that term are referred to the Stud. Assn. minute-book. From then on more and more partook of her hospitality and she was as essential a feature of College life as J.S.B. himself.

Of Mr. W. S. Brook, as I have said, I am scarcely qualified to speak. This is certain, thai he would rather have nothing said, for he would much prefer, as the second of the dynasty, being left alone to carry on the traditions of his house. Long may he do so!

—S. A. Wiren.

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