these journeys they heard that a priest had newly arrived from the English mission.
His name was Rev. John Ryan, formerly curate of the Catholic parish of Ashton-under-Lyne, near the city of Manchester.
He was for the present the guest of Father Hamilton, pastor of St. Mary's, Charlestown.
He had left his English mission to carry the comforts of religion to the Irish emigrants, thousands of whom had settled in America since the famine.
Without delay the leading spirits of that stalwart generation in Medford and Malden met in council and decided to ask the Rt. Rev. Bishop Fitzpatrick to give them Father Ryan.
They waited upon Father Hamilton to present their address to the Bishop, which he did, and the request was granted.
Father Doherty discontinued his visits to Medford, and in November, 1854, Father Ryan received his appointment to the new parish.
It included Malden, Medford, Melrose, South Reading (now Wakefield), Reading, Stoneham and Winchester.
The first Mass was said
wamp and salt marsh.
The road was single tracked; engine, built at Lowell, weighed about eleven tons and was without a cab; cars to correspond; small, stuffy depots, and earned a good dividend for the stockholders.
Today, with a double track, first-class equipment in all respects, it does not earn its expenses.
James B. Rice.
John F. Sanborn.
John F. Sanborn.
John F. Sanborn was conductor a short time and then station agent at South Reading, and later in a provision store, ship-yard, and policeman in Medford; later was engineer on the Medford Branch until the railroad strike in 1877, then to New York Elevated, where he died about 1880.
Mr. Sanborn will be remembered as the engineer who, feeling bound by his membership in the Brotherhood of Engineers, left his engine when the general strike was ordered.
He, however, ran it into the
quiver, Some thirty years ago. The pride of all the round-house, But especially of John, Whose full name was John Sanborn, A name so now well known. Though not the superintendent, He was without a foe, And ran this old ‘Camilla’ Just thirty years ago. We loved our old ‘Camilla,’ We boys and girls as well; We loved to ride behind her And listen to her bell. That sound was one of welcome Where'er we wished to go, 'Twas our young pride ‘Camilla’ Of thirty years ago. 'Twas when Conductor Hamilton Would wave his hand, she'd start And through the bridge and down the track She'd travel like a dart. Would fly her way to Wellington; I'd like to have you know That none could beat ‘Camilla’ Of thirty years ago. And on the double track She was always found in line; Would reach her place in Boston In twenty minutes time. But then, the cars were smaller And ‘links and pins’ the go And air brakes unfamiliar, Some thirty years ago. But things since then have changed And also num
ate services of dedication were held in the chapel.
The college magazine
The Graduate, from which information is gathered. says of it—
Professor Lewis grasped the dramatic possibilities of a dedicatory service in which the bell itself should play a speaking part. The program began with an invocation, and the class song was sung by Frank Lincoln Pierce, who sang it on the ‘98 Class Day. The president of the class, John Albert Cousins, next presented the bell, which was accepted by President Hamilton.
The ode was by Clara Ransom of ‘98, for Tufts was then co-educational.
Passages from Schiller's Lay of the Bell were next sung, and at the words, She is moving, sways, sways, the first stroke of the bell was given by the college president.
Then followed the
Act of Dedication—To Prayer, to Mourning, to Work, to Jubilation, and as the Voice of Alma Mater by the president.
At each pronouncement there was response by the choir and bell. During all the exercises the audience had b