Nugalia from the Horae Scholasticae
Introduction:
The Horae Scholasticae is the oldest school or college literary magazines in continuous publication in the United States, the first issue having appeared on June 1, 1860. Prior to the publication of the Alumni Horae in 1921 and The Pelican in 1945, the Horae Scholasticae also served to chronicle the School’s history and news of school life, as well as publishing the early literary efforts of many noted 19th-century authors such as Francis Marion Crawford and Owen Wister.
Many of the earlier editions of the Horae Scholasticae contained a column of newsy tidbits called “Nugalia” that encapsulated the day-to-day experience of student life at St. Paul’s School. The June 1st, 1935 edition of the Horae Scholasticae – a celebration of the first 75 years of publication – included this description of the Nugalia column:
The Nugalia (Lat., “stuffs,” “triffles,” “nonsense”) is one of the aboriginal columns of the Horae. In the early issues “The Rural Record”, the School log or diary, supplied a large part of the news.
In 1872 the name of the department was changed from “School Items” to “Items,” and in 1877 it took its present title “Nugalia.” The editors of those good old times embellished the scanty School notes with doggerel, puzzles, and current jokes.
In the spirit of the early editors of the Horae Scholasticae we have created a new feature located in the sidebar of Ohrstrom Blog. Throughout the year we will be publishing small but interesting excerpts gathered from past Nugalia columns and featuring them in the sidebar. Check back often for a regular bit of insight into the history of student life at SPS – and the occasional dose of doggerel!
Below is an archive of all Nugalia posts to date:
Nugalia Entries:
13 March, 1926
Slip slidin’ away:
The side-walks this winter have excited much comment . . .to say that they have been dangerous would be to pass the matter over lightly, and to try and describe the sad experiences of some of our unwarned guests would be getting a little personal. . . However, Nature has come to avenge us, and just as we have been slipping for weeks, now in his turn Old Winter himself is fast slipping away.
October 6, 1890
I once was lost:
During the excavations for the new building this summer, a ring was found, bearing the initials of the Hon. Benjamin R. Curtis, who was here as a boy in 1867. It was returned to the owner after having been lost twenty years.
5th of April, 1920
Frozen feet:
The ice in the School Pond this year has averaged about thirty-six inches thick. Under the S. P. S. rink, which is kept clear of snow, it must have been close to the record thickness of forty-six inches.
December 21, 1925
Pajama party:
In the first few days after examinations it was not an unusual sight to see someone in the afternoon wandering around the Upper School in pyjamas [sic]. To sleep all afternoon, and rise only in time for afternoon tea seemed to be the thing for the mentally exhausted.
April 5, 1920
Winter wonderland:
One of the most familiar sights of the winter has been the big, four-horse sleigh which has transported the children of the neighborhood to school in Concord…Those whose memories go back to the dark ages of St. Paul’s will be interested to know that the sleigh in question is the famous old “Daniel Webster,” which was used for the Washington’s Birthday expeditions to Canterbury.
March 13, 1928
Boundary issues:
The School was electrified to hear the announcement made in study the other day that henceforward all boys floating down the sluice on cakes of ice were out of bounds.
December 18, 1890
Ice follies:
On December 8th some of the workmen tried to clear the snow off the lower pond by means of two horses attached to the big snow plough, but they found the ice underneath so bad, that they were obliged to give it up.
December 16, 1930
A visit from a mysterious beast:
On the sixth of December, the peculiar animal first seen at St. Paul’s in 1888, forty-two years ago, appeared again on the ice in Library Pond. . . Mr. Wiggins, it will be remembered, has already immortalized the animal by carving it on his 1888 shield in the Upper School.
February 21, 1914
Thank goodness:
For the Thanksgiving dinner alone, were needed 73 Vermont turkeys, 49 Virginia hams, 2 barrels of sweet potatoes, 5 gallons of olives, 50 dozen bananas, about the same number of oranges, 88 boxes of sardines, 4 gallons of olive oil, not to mention all the delicacies, such as lettuce, nuts and raisins, cranberries, grapes, and the other things that go to make up a proper dinner for the feast.
November 29, 1934
On campfire etiquette:
Despite threatening and at times actual rain, the Middle held its annual Campfire on Saturday night, November 10. As is customary on these outings, which have been held for over twenty years, everyone concerned had a good time save the food, which was savagely attacked.
October 31, 1919
An old chestnut:
It is many years since the chestnuts have been so plentiful as they have been of late. If the old weather predictions are true, this fact should presage a hard winter. Everybody will pray devoutly that such may be the case, as anything worse than the abominable season of last year cannot be imagined.
November 30, 1893
Steered in the right direction:
On October 25th an exhibition of trained steers was given on the Lower Grounds by Miss Pierce.
October 17, 1901
Warm news:
The water supplying the shower baths at the Lower Grounds was warmed for the first time on Monday, September 30.
April 5th, 1920
Tractor attraction:
To judge from the crowds of spectators assembled, one of the most marvelous spectacles of modern days is the School tractor. . . While no exact count of the observers was kept, it may be safely estimated that at least three-fourths of the School spent fifteen minutes each watching its labors.
February 12, 1923
Feeding time at the zoo:
There is now quite a zoo here, what with the innumerable birds at the New Upper, a dozen or so squirrels about the Middle, a whole flock of pigeons, and many stray dogs, mice, cats, and rats. One boy has even gone so far as to build a little causeway from a nearby tree to his window on the second floor, so that the squirrels may get at their food easily.
June 6, 1928
Shy swans and daring ducks:
Owing to an aversion to publicity, the new swans have not ventured away from the extreme upper recesses of the School Pond. The ducks, on the other hand, have been so hungry that they have swallowed their pride (which must have relieved them considerably), and spend much of their time waddling around on the shore at the Lower School end of the Pond.
May 4, 1935
A note about a fortunate squirrel:
A baby squirrel is now enjoying all the benefits of civilization on the second floor of the New Upper.
And a not so fortunate one:
The Shattucks rudely evicted a little flying squirrel who had hibernated in one of their clinkers. He had constructed a comfortable home with cotton waste and three odd rowing socks.
