The annual report of the Rec. Sec. was read. The Chair suggested in a voice of authority that the proper thing be done by this report, and all voted to do the proper thing. What this was no one mentioned.
The Treasurer’s report was a revelation in High Finance, as follows:
Oct. 19th, 1908. There were five cents—these five cents to be known hereafter as the Lost Chord.
In July, 1909, we began with this Lost Chord—which vanished, leaving in its place $5.61 in October of that year.
There were no expenses except $1.20 for postal cards. Apparently there were no receipts, but somehow the $5.61 has now become $7.36. The third degree was here mercilessly applied to our Butterfly Treasurer, also to the minutes, with the result that it was found $2.75 had been received for special fines. The Papeterie therefore voted NOT to burn the treasurer at the stake as a witch. We should have been under this sad necessity had not this increase in our Treasure been satisfactorily accounted for.
The election passed off with its accustomed serenity. The Club understands so well how to re-elect the old officers, we could really do this in our sleep. The old Board is unanimously murmured into the offices which they will never leave, no never, while life lasts. The only new feature of the election was that our Treasurer, Mrs. Lyman Josephs, nobly consented to act as Cor. Sec. _pro tem._ (in the absence of Mrs. Manson Smith), as well as our eternal and brilliant Treasurer. And yet she has been called a Butterfly.
In addition to the usual officers of a club, the Papeterie had a “troubadour” (our musical member), an “archiviste” in charge of the archives, and a “penologist.” Our penal code was in the custody of the latter. We had a great deal of fun over the code—but I do not remember the actual infliction of any punishment, except fines of five cents.
The meeting of September 27, 1910, was the last but one held before my mother’s death, in October. Mrs. William Hunter Birckhead, who succeeded me as recording secretary, gave us an interesting account of the “Passion Play” at Oberammergau, and my mother told us of Newport in the old days. It was so sadly deserted after the Revolution that only one lady possessed a diamond ring!