PAGE TWO MAROON AND GOLD SATURDAY, MARCH 31, 1945 , Maroon and Gold Edited and printed at Elon College by students of Joiirnalisni. Published bi-weekly during the college year. EDITORIAL STAFF Mary Ellen McCants Editor H. Reid Managing Editor Martha McDaniel Associate Editor Kmerson Whatley Sports Editor Edna Reitzel Associate. Sports Editor BUSINESS STAFF Mary Coxe Business Manager Ed Danit.'l Circulation Manager Charles R. McClure Faculty Adviser NEWS EDITORS Jjell Crenshaw Elizabeth Benton Thomas Horner Ida Marie Parket Ann Rader John Rossi SPORTS WRITERS PRODUCTION STAFF BiU McEntire 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. R8PMBMIMTBD POR NATIONAC ADVMTI0IN* W* National Advertising Service, Inc. CaUegf PttbUahen Rep>e)etiu/ive 420 Madison Ave. New Yook. n. Y. CWCAOO • B«TOII > LOB AMKU* • SAN FUNCIMt W abbit-T wacks Long columns of Hitler’s heavy transports are said to be rolling into the Bavarian Alps. German prisoners report that their officers are deserting them, leaving but thin lines for rear guards. The surprising ease of the Rhine crossings has brought the blackest hours to the despairing populace of the Reich. Will Adolf stay to face the music? We don’t think so. He’ll make wabbit-twacks. The coward blood in his veins wiU put him in the fore in this race to escape. Few of the tyrant-kiUers of history have shown the last ounce of courage that makes an honest freeman stand. Bill Meacham, writing this editorial over the shoulder, says to add "Kwossin the Woad” to that “Wabbit-Twacks” iij the title. Well, he may be “Kwoss in de Alps to Berchtesgaden,” or he ma^tunnel under, but what we mean is he better make “twacks.” The Yanks are on his Ruhr. As long as he had superior armament and man power, little Adolf could beat the brass gong. In fact, given his armies, any moron could have rolled over the little countries he pillaged. But now is the day of testing. It will show him up—or down—at about his real size. We predict that he’ll crawl. Letter To The Editor Dear Editor: Sometimes, just little problems come up that may not seem like anything to most of us, but then again, they can make or break friendships. Of course. I’m not a person to criticize, for I am guilty of anything I might say, but now that I happen to think about things, I feel that I would like to share my thoughts. Elon has fewer students now than it has ever had before. Everyone knows this, and everyone also knows that there is a greater percentage of women on campus in ratio to the men than ever before. Yet, as strongly as ever before, we want to keep Elon in the place where she rightly belongs; and to give her what she deserves, we must pull together. Lately, I’ve sensed somewhat of a “back stabbing” going on about the place . . . not really anger or bitterness on the part of students, but maybe jealousy between certain dormitories or even between groups. Some may say it’s only spirit, and I'm not denying that spirit isn’t wonderful and there’s no better spirit to be found than Elon spirit, but sec tional hatred has never stood. There really is no main issue which has caused me to make these few comments. It’s just things like the Elon boys who seem to be doing enough warring for the students out there in the Philippines or over in Germany without any verbal battles raging back here. I don’t know how you feel about it, but as for my suggestion, I think we should act our age. After all, some of these lively spirits might come in pretty handy for the softball season. BETTY CO-ED Theysitlikethisuponaseat And now and then they kiss, Then he says some darn fool thing. And then they sit Like This God created woman after man and she has been after him ever since. There once was a maiden of Siam, Who said to her lover, young Kiam, “If you kiss me, of course You’ll have to use force— Goodness knows you’re stronger than I am.” A whimsical professor, trying to emphasize a point in logic, asked his class: If the United States is bound ed on the east by the Atlantic Ocean, on the north by Canada, and on the south by Mexico, how old am I’” The brighter students sat dumbfounded, but the dopiest of them all spoke up: “You’d be 44:” Dumbfounded in turn, the pro fessor said, “That’s right ,young man. But how in the world did you know?” The student answered: “That’s easy. I have a brother who is half nuts and he’s 22.” When my brother Tommy Sleeps with me He sleeps exactly like a V And because the bed is not so wide Part of him is on my side. A sail is offering peanuts to a soldier. Another sailor standing nearby observes: “He always likes to be nice to the army. After all, they’re our Allies just the same as the British and the Chinese.” la The question has been raised as to whether Canady is Dry, or not. Fred Chandler has something else brew ing other than Erma. There are a lot of girls taking sun baths these days. H-nun. Sun worshipers at a Christian institu tion, no less. Mary Lib Simpson is goijig to get a truck. Not for her own use, no . . . but to cart a bunch of Day Students that cram themselves into her present vehicle. Wedding bells may ring for another Elon beUe— Jan Wall. And rumor has it that there will be more. It would be sad indeed, if Betty Sue Lloyd would miss that ensign she has designs on. Looks like she v/ould be in the same boat that she put Tommy Wolfe in the past week end. That is a Short and sad story. “Pieman, let me taste your wares.” Such were the words of Eddie (Cassanova, Romeo, Mule, Handsome. His Popeship, Ace, Flash, etc.,) Mulford the other njght. Mary Coxe, the disher-out-of-stuff-in-the-book- store was the subject. It is alleged that this was the prelude to the Sarah Harris affair, which is now in full swing. Martha lays claim to have gone with the last male president of the student body. What! Again? Benton and Burch make a good looking pair—in any medium—walking, bicycling, or most any other way. Lem Allen is trying to best Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde these days. Unless one i# two faced, it is hard to put on a dual personality. Don Juan is being chaUenged. Lib Holland is a fiend for French, or Frenchie as the case may be. ir- boys wer» able to make it over to the High Point dance, and they report that they had an en joyable time of it. Verabrate went home, namely, Sanfokd, and after becoming Sanfordized for the week end, is back at The Institution. It was reported that she was suf- ering from the plague, or some similar ailment, but she, not unlike a cat, has nine lives, and has a good ways to go, yet. Ambiguity Rogers teed off and journeyed to Del- way some few days last week. Delway has one ’37 Ford and one equally as ambiguous female to offer among its many other atributes. Frances St. Clair was honored by one Edward G Greene with a telephone call a few nights ago Another Arpngrinder was on campus last week . . . Elinor s little sister. h acquired a new name for herself— Elbe Mae.” Do you know why or weren’t you around Sunday night? six girll; dating one lad all at the same time this past week end. CoUsufsi 9lumjDJi A Scot was engaged in an argument with the con- ductor as to whether the fare was 25 cents or 30 cents, finally the disgusted conductor picked up the Scots man s suitcase and tossed it off the train, just as they passed over a bridge. It landed with a splash. “Mon,” screamed Sandy, “isn’t it enough to try to overcharge me. Now you try to drown my Uttle boy.” THE STORY OF MOUNTAIN WILLIAM; OR HILL BILLY’S ANCESTOR Back in the good old days—say as far back as when WRECK ON THE HIGHWAY was number one on the hit parade—there was a little backwoods settle ment known as Scroggsville, it, like every Uttle town has its typical romances. And its gossipers. Scroggsville had both. One day, when it was warm enough to stomp around without being hampered by store-bough’n shoes. Will McBoodle,the most sought after swain in Scroggsville (all of the others were 18 and had greetings av.aiting), was settled down by the village’s trysting place, namely, the Burch Tree, with his rural runabout, who was twelve, dark, and—well, you figure that out for your self. Most folks called her Daisy. Will began his line, as they settled down cozily beside a goodly lot of rose bushes. “Only the roses v/ill hear. Only the roses will see, dear. Isn’t it grevious, that the roses envy us? Etc., and so on,” Ob viously, this procedure was sub-rosa. But all is not well that is smooched well. Will’s chick had a rich uncle, who didn’t approve of the McBoodle clan. Said uncle put in an untimely appearance. Through the rose bushes. "Shh,” Will’s babe wailed. “1 hear someone—why it’s my uncle, my Uncle Carbunkle O’Cawnplastuh, on my pappy’s side, and who doesn’t approve of the Mc- Goodle clan.” “Of that, I am aware,” moaned McBoodle. Unk strolled up, and ejaculated, “You look fresh as a daisy kissed by the dew.” Will replied sternly, "That’s right. Her name’s Daisy, but mine hain’t no Dew.” Without waiting to give Uncle Carbunkle a chance to say anything further, Daisy, who was a freshman at Elon at that time, voiced an emphatic, “Oh, Unkie, • terrible, tragical, and sublimely retributive will be the course pursued by me if you refuse to allow Will to place his alabastar lips to mine and enrapture me by imprinting angelic sensations of divine bliss upon the indespensable members of my physiognomy.” “Does that mean supper’s ready?” queried Uncle Carbunkle. “Huh?” echoed Will Not wishing to hurt their feelings, Daisy didn’t explain, but led the three of them home to the most delicious dinner—candied pigs’ tails, toasted tarnips, and all of the fine sauces that go with them. Carbunkle had forgotten all about his hate for the McGoodles. That is, until— Will politely asked, “Daisy. I’d like another roll. Please pass the dice. , Ah, yes. Life was intere'sting in the good old days. It will never be like that again. A SHORT SHORT STORY By AL BURLINGAME Roscoe Milkstop, a minor official in the McThug, McSlug & Co., has aspirations of becoming its president in place of his uncle. Chandler McThug. Learning that McThug is in financial dificulties, Roscoe plans a little coup. When Chandler goes to Florida on an im portant business trip, Roscoe hires two escaped con victs, Duke and Dike Feergo, to kidnap little ^ules McThug and demand $50,000 ransom. Being in finan cial trouble Chandler will have to ?ell his stocks in his company to get the cash. With this kidnap money Roscoe plans to buy up the stock and so control the company under a ficticious name. While Reddington, the detective, is tracking/ down the crooks, McThug has been informed of the goings-on by his confidential secertary, Snapp, and returns. Fear ing he will be discovered. Milksop tries to kill McThug, but fails. Howevel.-, McThug almost dies, and the blame falls on Snapp who was found nearby. Reddington proves that Snapp didn’t attack his employer. Pre vious to this the detective has found the convicts’ hid ing place . . . rescues Jules and his pretty nurse, and during the rescue Dike kills his brother by mistake, and with the aid of Ames and Firestone, Reddington captures Dike. Reddington makes a trap for Milksop. It works. Snapp, who was telling McThug’s story to Reddington, was about to reveal Milksop, but got mur- dred. “Your son is a college grad isn’t he?” the strang er asked. “Yes,” confessed the honest farmer. “But in justice to the college, I’ll have to admit that he didn’t have any sense beforehand.” Science In The News By J. VV. CLAPP Harry White, a noted scientist and lecturer, gave :i demonstration lecture here on March 19. The stu dents, faculty members and visitors present saw a fascinating disnlay put on by a man who worked with Edison and is "now with General Electric. He has a scientific background which few, if any, ever equal. In addition, he is an interesting lecturer, giving his ex planations in simple terms that let even the average- person get an idea of what it is all about. The purpose of the recent demonstrat;on was to- mystify those present with a display of electronic marvels. Mr. White first let us listen to what he said was the sound of cosmic rays, which regularly strike the earth. An amplifier produceda tapping noise every time a cosmic ray struck. No one knows exactly what a cosmic ray is, but their presence can be certified by those who were present and “heard” them. The same machine is also a detector for thp rays emanated by radium. Different radium ores were demonstrat ed to produce sounds in the machine, and finally nine- thousand dollars worth of radium bromide contained in a platinum needle was removed from its lead con tainer several inches thick and placed near the de tecting machine. The sound it produced was like hail on a tin roof. It was demonstrated that lost radium can be located by the machine. A container of radium “planted” in the pocket of a member of the audience was “found.” Spectacularly beautiful lightning was prAfluced. It not only looked powerful, but was able to light Geisler tubes and fluorescent light tubes without even the benefit of wiring. W. D. Little and Emerson What ley provided an excellent conductor for one side of the circuit while Mr. White had only to touch the other end of the tubes to make them glow. The Bowden boys got the thrill of their lives when each held a container of lighter fluid while our wizzard lit it with his tongue and his bare finger, respectively. The fellow “witb another bald head” insisted that this lightning is harm less, but proceeded to burn holes in one-inch planks with it. The lightning used in the experiment was a high frequency radio current, produced by a high tension transformed and a bank of condensers and built up to over a million volts b/ a Tesla coil. The demonstration was concluded by showing a number of beautiful hand-painted designs under “black ligfa.t” Fluorescent chemicals, when placed under “black light” give very beautiful colors, ^which havd a tone not possessed by any colors in natural daylight. Anyone who thinks chemistry and art have nothing in common should have been convinced by this display that they have everything in common. Mr. White urged everyone to take some science, because it is so import ant to progress in any field. Poet’s Corner HOGO MEMORY An old Rock Island ‘‘manifest” was rollin’ down the track, Achuggin’ out of Memphis with a load upon her back; Awindin’ past the levees and the Arkansas bayous, Ablowin’ cinder fireflies out among the Dixie dews" As the muddy Mississippi bent the steamboats" ridin’ lights. The red caboose kept winkin’ like a chorus girl in tights; And th’ hobo’s itchin” heel heard th’.clickin’ of th’ song When her siren whistle lifted th’ red-ball come- along. So he shook his lazy figure from asettin’ on his tail And he caught the jumpin’ rattler on the west bound rail. Well, she rambled into Stuttgart without blowin’ for the stop With the laureate of hobos ridin’ gently on the fa Ridin’ gently on the top And dreamin’ - - Gentlemen - - On this wise: Professor (taking up exam papers)—“Why the quo tation around all your answers?” Student (being belatedly honest)—“Courtesy to the fellow on my left.” There was a man in Stratford on the Avon long ago Who’d have bargained with th’ devil for to teU about this show Rollin’ like the bubbles of th’ river’s overflow. The song of hill and prairie in the good old U.S.A. The mighty land the river drains from the west to. Iowa, All the way to Loozianne and the delta on th’ bay; Hub-leep in democracy she stands Welcoming the ventures of her many hands Guilding freedom like a castle For the poor of many lands. She came coastin’ into Stuttgart, Rumblin’ lazy in her vitals. Spoutin’ smoke-rings at the trees; And she gently made the stop Right beside a handsome cop With his night stick twirlin’ And his moustache curlin’ Brightly In the evS^iing breeze. ^ The cop look d up to see the stranger Ridin’ gently 6n the top. “Land O’ Freedom,” sighed the hobo, As he hit the dirt abouncin,’ Can t you ever quit romancin,’ Long enough to out-run sorrow?”

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