Page Two
MAROON AND GOLD
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 3, 1945
Maroon and Gold , i
V .
Edited and printed at Elon College by students of
Journalism. Published bi-weekly during the college
year. "
EDITORIAL STAFF
Mary Ellen McCants . Editor
H. Reid Managing Editor
Martha McDaniel Associate Editor
Emerson Whatley Sports Editor
Edna Reitzel Associate. Sports Editor
BUSINESS STAFF
Mary Coxe Business Manager
Ed Danitl Circulation Manager
Charles R. McClure Faculty Adviser
NEWS EDITORS
Nell Crenshaw Thomas Horner
Elizabeth Benton Ida Marie Parker
Ann Rader
SPORTS WRITERS
John Rossi Bill McEntire
PRODUCTION STAFF
Charles Brown Linotype Operator
Dr. Merton French Staff Photographer
Entered as second-class matter November 10, 1936,
at the post office at Elon College, N. C., under the Act
of Congress, March 3, 1879.
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Out Of The Mist
Do You Finish What
You Start?
CORN IN A CORN PONE COUNTRY
So often we find that people are much louder
as planners than they are as actors. Many of us boast
proudly of what needs to be done, what other people
Should do, even what we are goiilg to do, but somehow
we don;t get around to doing anything. True, I have
spoken before ia this column many times of our hopes,
dreams, and plans, for a future, and I still maintain
that we must continue setting up goals; but what
shall it profit us if we fall to strive for these goals?
Make your plans according to your ability for
carrying them out. Don’t strive for anything too
large, too great for you to reach; for the amount of your
accomplishments is not the 'TniJ&iCant thing. Our
obligations are first. ourselves, for when we have
satisfied those a-tibitions in our own minds, we have
taken a large sti^ towards fulfilling our plafts.
Let us ivf^i know what needs to be done, know
just wbat'^ can do about it, then do all that we pos-
si'irfy can do, but do it well.
The “get-by” attitude may cause us to think that
•nan is a genius. So what do we say? “He’s smart,
, tet what he goes after.” And all the time, that par
ticular person is probably about as shallow as a two-
■"inch pan containing about as much cake, all blown-up
with air.
When we look at this problem in connection with
our campus ... it sort of takes just about the same
light. We have a lot of nice organizations here at
Elon and plenty of good leaders for them, so what do
we do? We call a meeting about once every two or
three weeks, and then for the life of us can't think of
anything valuable enough to meet about, that is, if
anyone bothers to attend the meetngs. Someone gets
around to suggesting occasionally that we do some
thing. A committee is appointed and maybe, one
person, if he's ambitious enough, winds up doing it.
Well, just let’s put it this way . . . We’ve got the
people, we’ve got the material, we’ve got the ambi
tion (I hope) . . . but we just don't always seem to hit
on that certain little spavk to make us “git up and go.”
We aren’t lazy. Were young and energetic. Let’s
just set up one simple little suggestion. Whatever we
get into, let’s go into it feeling that we are an integral
part, and if we have an idea, say so, but don’t stop
there. No sir, let’s go right on and start doing
Come on, gang, let’s show people what we are by what
we do.
Big Andy says the rcfbins have' come. It has
happened, though, that these harbingers get in ahead
of the weather sometimes.
I remember that just about the sweetest job of
cussin’ heard in these parts in the last four years was
done by one of the early robins. He sat up in the col
onnades, sticking his toes inside an ivy blanket to keep
’em warm, and peered out at that big ice storm that was
tearing down oak limbs the size of grandpa’s elbows.
Just what he said I think I know, but you’ll have
to guess. It wouldn’t be likely to get past the censor on
this page. But, anyway, he was sayin’ it for all of
us, and waggin’ his head in a most angry fashion.
It seems that he came up from Florida on an air crew,
and he was looking for some of Mary’s best corn pone
from the kitchen door, and all he got was icicles and
slush on the sidewalk.
Well, so it goes. I gave him my overshoes, the
ones I used at the Pole with Byrd. And the last I
saw him he sat there holding his nose. A typical WPA
John, not even pleased when the government produced
a handout.
A gray mist hung over the island and covered all
in silence and mystery until dawn, when a light wind
blew in from the East Dunes and carried it away. The
sun raised itself, pathetically, over the horizon and
displayed a wan light. A bird flickered across the
sky, followed by the echoing notes of its shrill repeat
ing cry. The trees shook themselves, whispered, and
then were still. Suddenly gunfire cut the silence into
bits and the repetition of machine-gun fire tore
tlirough the air.
Beyond the East Dunes there is a break in the
density of trees, bushes and entanglements, and in a
small cavity, scarcely visible because of the foliage,
there are three Japanese soldiers, lying around a
machine-gun, dead. Several yards beyond, an Ameri
can soldier, a North Carolina farm boy, lies dying, his
face and shoulder riddled with bullet holes, and blood
is trickling out of his shoulder, down his arm and to
the ends of his fingers, where it is dripping, like a
leaking spigot, into the eternal earth from whence it
came. There is an interminable silence.
But there are other American and Japanese sol
diers and there are many more machine-guns.
The sun has now risen to a higher altitude and
shines forth in brilliant glory that is akin only to the
morning—the same sun that looks down over the farm
in North Carolina. And the poet says that the boys
who lie in Flanders Fields had felt dawn, seen
sunset glow; but they have been dead lo these twenty-
odd years, and boys are dying there again today. The
birds, from their sylvan perches, look down at dying
soldiers, curiously ... an inmate in an asylum wants
to know what the war is all about ... a wise old Sen
ator, when asked who will win the war, answers, "They
all lose!”
So, perhaps, the dead past has buried its dead
losers all. But the story is no,t yet all ended, for them
or for us. If, someday, the lesson is learned; if bar
baric-man finds the'way to keep the peace, the dead
of this war shall not wholly have died in vain.
—Tom Horner
Poets’ Section
POETIC HOPES
WITH GREAT AFFECTION TO LITTLE HAL
Have you seen this “chesty” thing
The boy with a jigger-boo look.
The kid who has an Einstein brain
Yet never cracks a book?
He’s not so darn good-lookin’
But all the gals simply swoon,?
When through their presence “He” does pass
That handsome sort of a goon.
He used to go with a real cute gal
Until one day he lost her.
By now you’ve probably guessed the {)oy
His nom de plume is Foster.
—Jimmy Lyon
THE SCOLDING
Dat you Mose? Whar you bin?
Lawsy me! A-fighin’ ag’in!
Go in dere ’n wash yo’ face;
You’s gittin’ t’ be a sho’ disgrace!
A-beatin’ up chillun age three ’n fo’—
Bettah not ketch you a-fightin’ no mo’!
Whut dat you say? You got beat!
He bloody yo’ nose ’n cut yo’ feet!
Lawsy, youngun, learn how t’ fight;
Show dat other boy which is right.
Nex’ time you gonna fe6l mah han’
Less’n you whip de other man!
—Tom Horner
QUOTATIONS
If the coat be ever so fine that a fool wears, it is
still but a fool’s coat.—Old Saw.
if. -if. if if.
“Tut, Tut, child!” said the Duchess. “Everything’s
got a moral, if only you can find it.”—Lewis Carrol.
if if. if. if-
“Gracious heavens,” he cries out, leaping up
and catching hold of his hair, “What’s this? Print?”—
Charles Dickens.
To write poetry appears to come to others with ease,
Even when their audience is hard to please.
But when I sit down, my pen in my hand,
My countenance still composed and bland
My mind resembles an illusive sieve
A bowl in which no goldfish could live.
My thoughts, too, gasp, fade, and then die;
Though it’s not because my ambition is too high.
I don't desire to be a Wolfe, hot even a Millay,
I just want to write one poem to which you won’t
say nay;
Short, long, iambic pentameVir, blank verse;
About anything, a toothache, hope, a hearse,
People, peanuts, or my new spring Suit f
And all the time hoping it will be a beaut.
I'd like to produce one which would make a hit
But I can’t seem to get the hang of it.
So whatever this seems to be
I guess it’s just a reflection of me.
And if it’s no good I’ll try again—
There’s always another way to begin.
But no matter how hard I try, the paper looks
blank.
Or if it isn't, what’s on it looks rank.
When this happens I put down my pen,
And hunt for another way to begin.
Though this way seems never to come
My mind keeps up that constant hum
I get disgusted, and say I’m through,
But I'll write one yet, if just to show you.
—Betty Benton
Remarking with an air of imagination, one fair
co-ed expressed the wish that we have weekends all
the time. “And why?” she added, “do we have to waste
five days out of every week when time is so short? Why,
I’m getting old!”
And then there’s the luscious strawberry blonde
with the “Blue” eyes who publicly admits this is war
as -she sports that mighty handsome “Bill” from B.H.S.
Tn spite of two upsets last weekend, the big team
reports pleasant memories; that is, the part of it they
can remember.
Fire escapes, we are told, are to be used in cases
of emergency only.
And as for Harry Turner, how has he kept that
gorgeous gal from G’boro hidden so long?
Lem Allen sacrificed a trip with the basketball
squad for a dance closer by. Did he. go to Wilson or
did he walk back from B. Town? Exciting incident,
wasn’t it, Lem?
If the mountain won't come to Elon, then Elon
will go to the mountain. In short, if all the souvenirs
from Blowing Rock, which Elon students possess were
heaped together, we would have a little Gift Shop of
our own. Did a certain day student girl Waugh when
she saw White’s cards!
Congrats to the Dr. Johnson’s boys for the swell
student assembly program last Monday ihqrning
Wouldn’t it have been swell if one .of the more literary
members had donned a dress and told about the cor
rect usage of the library, the little cards, etc.? We do
miss you Mrs. Johnson.
To sum up a few of Elon’s twosome situations
briefly, it’s like this: Jimmy Lyon has the Blues; Shorty
Smith is Wolfing it; Sunburn prefers the Bogue Sounw
to the Pamlico River! Paige Eaves is fishing on the
Banks; Edna Reitzel is crazy about Durham (Ed. note:
We think it’s a nice town, too); Sara Yarbrough likes
Graham crackers; and to top it all, there is a certain
brand of Canady, er we mean candy, over in East that
is very sweet—we’re sure it will Register first rate
with you.
A merry little line overheard during rehearsal of
“Out of the ^Frying Pan” recently: “Do you all live
here in one apartment?”
F. Rogers received a card postmarked “Glen
Raven” as of late. What de heck?
Congratulations to Dr. and Mrs. French and their
newest addition. Long live Sara Frances! (And may
there be another one next year so the good doctor’s
classes may have another holiday.)
We hail the newly elected regents of May and their
handsome attendants. The student body was wise in
its selection and Elon can still boast of its famed campus
beauties in spite of wartime conditions.
That’s all for now, but com’ on stoodents, create
some gossip, cause if you don't do anything, we can't
tell it.
Fraternities Then
Soon it will be bidnight again and the sorcjjaties
will feast, sing their songs, exchange the names of
pledges with each other, and carry on the festivities in
as much the traditional way a possible, with the excep
tion of the presence of the brother fraternities. “And,”
many inquiring freshmen ask, “where are the fra
ternities?” Now for one of your lesser reporters that is
a difficult question; yet from information obtained
at various places we present the followng conclusion:
Only twenty-two short months agt>-+tt5^rats thrived
on the Elon campus. And then offMarch 17, 1943, the
fraternity membership was drained considerably when
the army reserves were called to duty. All during the
spring as the Selective Service pressed down the
brotherhoods weakened, until finally, as the year drew
to a close, since there were only a few fraternity men
returning the next fall, the groups decided to disband
until the time when the men students are again plenti
ful enough to actively sustain tlie four brotherhoods.
The four Greek-letter fraternities act as brother
organizations to the four present sororities, the Kappa
Psi Nu fraternity is brother to the Tau Zeta Phi so
rority; Sigma Phi Beta to Delta Upsilon Kappa; Alpha
Pi Delta to Pi Kappa Tau; and Iota Tau Kappa to the
Beta Omicron Beta. When the frats disbanded Kappa
Psi Nu and Iota Tau Kappa boasted the largest mem
bership with nineteen members each, while Alpha Pi
Delta had fifteen and Sigma Phi Beta, ten. Sigma
Phi Beta has the largest number of alumni. It is
possible for a fraternity to hold its charter during
wartimf' with only five members, but the traditional
“C" average is required for membership.
There is at present only one full-fledged fraternity
man on campus—W. T. Walker, Sigma Phi Beta; three
have the title of honorary membership. They are:
Don Miller, Iota Tau Kappa; Johnny Rossi, Alpha Pi
Delta; and Gene Poe, Sigma Phi Beta.
The male Greeks are not active on campus now,
but they still live in the hearts of those who knew of
them—for it is not easy to forget the echo of the fra
ternity songs, the unforgettable thrill of bidnight, and
the joy of brotherhoods.
IP
r
ZOOLOGY, SELF TAUGHT
Despite the fact that man is an animal, few folks
know the organization, functions, and relationship of
animals. To find out what fraternity or sorority one
is in, or how one operates, or who’s catching their
boodle from who, the study of animals is recommended.
This science is called ZOOLOGY.
The study of zoology is important, other than in
class for required credits,
of course for three rea
sons—for the problems
of living things, a very
important reason, for
man is always trying to
i*gure out his problem
of how to date who with
out spine other who’s
knowing about it, be
cause the first who
would become jealous of
the second wlio, on ac
count of he was inter
ested in the girl, any
how, only who kiiew it?
. . . artd for beauty and
culture, the forih-er be
ing me more important of the two . . , and we’ve for
gotten what the last one was. . „
Lab work is very essential in the proper study of
animals. It is here that the specimens are given close
scrutiny, and this lab work becomes most interesting
when one is faced with research of some female of the
species.
The lowest type of animal, aside from Centipede
is the amoeba. We did extensive work with
the amoeba, and we havefor your perusal a remarkable
photograph. It shows two amoeba, one of which we
v/ill call, Amos Amoeba and the other, Andre—no, Alice
Amoeba. You will note the difference in size of the
two. We will let you judge for yourself which was
fed a diet of Pepsi Cola for three weeks, and whicb
wasn’t.
0
Amos Alice-
A very important discovery in the history of
zoology was that of a famous 'Virginian scientist, one
Harvey (now at Elon College?), namely, the discovery
of the circulation of blood, and the results of the afore
said. There was some friction envolved as to his great
discovery, but later all the people gave him due credit,
for his actions.
In order that the students waste no time studying
a textbook, we list forthwith a concentrated compila
tion of some of the more important animals and their
classes.
It is alleged by some that one faculty member is
a descendent of the insectivorous mammal that scien
tists affectionately term rhino^phus ferrumequinum.
We are very skeptical of this,'because it looks to us
though someone may be calling him a Greater Horse-
slioe Bat’s Great Granddaughter.
Then we have the class Chandleri Mule-ia. This
type of animal is particularly adept at playing bask
etball.
One of the more bodacious classes of animals is the
class Lookwhatcamefromwagram Merry. Now this
type is known for its beauty, among other things, in
cluding Air Cadets by the bushel, and thus we find tiie
first usage of the term Cox’s Army.
There are many more classes that we haven’t dealt
"'ith such as the Wolfes, and Lamms, Scotts (mem
bers of the terrier dog family), Biddie-Dunns, HoBees,
etc., and of course, the highest form of animal, the
most brainey of all, the unilateral class, 'Verdabrata.
which Brother Whatley has been doing extensive and
much progressive research with as of late.
CoUexfsi ?{jumoh
The moon was yellow, the lane was bright
As she turned to me in the Autumn night
And every glance gave a hint
That she craved romance,
I stammered, stuttered, and time went by
The moon was yellow, and so was I!
Usually you can tell by looking at a giif what kind
of a past she is going to have.
She’s never had a soldier take her in his arms,
She’s never had a soldier rave about her charms
No GI has ever wooed her, and the reason’s simply
this—
She was much too young for the last war
And much too old for this.
Modern maiden’s prayer: “Bring him back safe,
sound and single.
Susie has a nice new skirt
So neat, so bright, so choosy,
It never shows a speck of dirt
But say, how it shows Susie!