he returned each summer to his home
in Great Barrington and quietly resumed his work on the farm.

"After graduation he was a remarkably successful football coach at
Cornell University, and was also a vast help in preparing Harvard
elevens. His annual appearance in the fall at Cambridge was always the
means of putting fresh heart and confidence in the Crimson players.

"He turned to railroading in the fall of 1896, acting as Assistant
Superintendent of the Springfield Division of the Boston and Albany
Railroad. Here, as at college, he made a profound personal impression on
his associates. The end came on the evening of December 24th, in 1897.

"In a memorial from his classmates and friends, the following
significant paragraph appears: 'Marshall Newell belonged to the whole
University. He cannot be claimed by any clique or class. Let us, his
classmates, simply express our gratitude that we have had the privilege
of knowing him and of observing his simple, grand life. We rejoice in
memories of his comradeship; we deeply mourn our loss. To those whose
affliction has been even greater than our own, we extend our sympathy.'
This memorial was signed by Bertram Gordon Waters, Lincoln Davis, and
George C. Lee, Jr., for the class, men who knew him well.

"Harvard men, I feel sure, will forgive me if I like to believe that
Newell belonged not merely to the whole Harvard University, but to every
group of men that came under his influence, whether the football squad
at Cornell or the humble track walkers of the Boston and Albany.

"Remains, I think, little more for me to say, and this can best be said
in Newell's own words, selections from that diary of which I have
already spoken, and which set the stamp on the character of the man for
all time. This, for instance:

"'It is amusing to notice the expression in the faces of the horses on
the street as you walk along; how much they resemble people, not in
feature, but in spirit. Some are cross and snap at the men who pass;
others asleep; and some will almost thank you for speaking to them or
patting their noses.' And this, in more serious vein: 'Happened to think
how there was a resemblance in water and our spirits, or rather in their
sources. Some people are like springs, always bubbling over with
freshness and life; others are wells and have to be pumped; while some
are only reservoirs whose spirits are pumped in and there stagnate
unless drawn off immediately. Most people are