I first saw Mr. Putney in August, 1881, when I came alone and somewhat
homesick to seek admission to the Academy. He was standing on the steps
of South Hall ready to greet new students with his quiet friendly manner
and sincere expression of interest. He made us feel at once that we had
in him a friend, one who understood us and expected the best from us. I
like to recall this picture of him for it gave me an impression of the
man that I have never had occasion to change.
Mr. Putney was a great teacher. Thorough in detail and wise in daily
drill that he knew was necessary for our success, he showed a love for
the literature that he taught and an enthusiasm that was contagious.
Fortunate the boy or girl who learned Virgil under his wise guidance.
Always sympathetic and encouraging, he could detect the bluffer and
discourage one who tried to get through his lessons without adequate
preparation. He corrected our mistakes, but encouraged our attempts to
succeed, even though we often failed. He appealed to our ambition, to
our sense of obligation, and to our pride; and thus he led rather than
drove us to our work. And work we did; we did not dare to disappoint
him, we did not wish to disappoint him. Later in college we had occasion
more than once to be thankful for the wise and sound training we had had
under his leadership.
It is, however, the personality of the man that lives with us, whether
we remember him best in the classroom or in the chapel exercises, in
the dormitory or in some other phase of his active life. He was quiet,
even-tempered, but forceful. His voice was not often raised, but it
carried conviction. His directions were accepted without protest or
question; or if, as I remember well, on one occasion we did protest, he
had a firm, convincing manner that made us accept his word as final. And
yet there was no rancor left, we felt that Mr. Putney was right. As a
rule he was serious, but he had a merry twinkle in his eye that told of
a sense of humor and an ability to join with his students in their good
times. In a very real sense he entered into the lives of all of us and
made upon us that impression that makes us rise and say with one voice,
"He was a Christian gentleman."