PAGE TWO
MAROON AND GOLD
Wednesday, December 13, 1950
Mnroon and Gold
Edited and printed by students of Elon
College. Published bi-weekly during the
college year under the auspices of the
Board of Publication.
Entered as second class matter at ths
Post Office at Elon College, N. C., under
the Act of March 8, 1879. Delivered by
mail, $1.50 the college year, 50c the
quarter.
EDITORIAL BOARD
Edward Engles Editor-In-Chief
Rebert Wright Associate Editor
Walter Graham Staff Photographer
Luther N. Byrd Faculty Advisor
BUSINESS BOARD
Matt Currin Business Manager
Wynona Womack Circulation Manager
B. G. Frick Printing Advisor
Edward Engles Press Man
SPORTS STAFF
Joe Spivey Sports Editor
George Etheridge Sports Assistant
Charles Myers Sports Assistant
Jean Pitman Sports Assistant
ART STAFF
Neil Johnson Roy Grant
Tony Diamond Cooper Walker
REPORTERS
Samuel Barker Virginia Pla
Hazel Barker Donald Scott
Jane Boone Mildred Sharpe
Joe Deaton Robert Smithwick
William Hunter James Snow
Charles Norfleet Lester Squires
Happie Wilson
CHRISTMAS, LONG MAY IT WAVE
Whether you are the kind of person who
spends a quiet Christmas in worship and
thanksgiving, the kind who considers it
just a day to give and receive gifts, or
even the kind who uses Christmas as an
excuse to go out and get potted, you are
undoubtedly looking forward to the great
day, preparing to celebrate in your own
manner.
And it IS a great day. Disregarding
for the moment the reasons you have for
celebrating Christmas, think about it ob
jectively for a while. Once a year people
almost forget their differences and become
united in a common effort, and whether
that effort is selfish, sacred, or silly, it
does exist, and it serves to bring men
closer together, even if only for a moment.
That in itself makes it worthwhile.
Christmas is usually associated with
peace, joy, close family ties, colorful lights
and even more colorful expressions in
the faces of happy people. To all it is a
day of memories, memories of Christmas
past and of the happy days of childhood
that we wouldn’t go through again on a
bet, memories of cold nights and merry
carols, memories of the wonder of a
Christmas tree shining wonderfully in a
dark room. Peace on earth, good will to
men.
Consider the power of a day that si
lenced gunfire in the first World War
while the strains of “Helige Nacht”
floated clearly across no man’s land. Con
sider what Christmts could and should
be. Consider what is happening to it now.
There will be no respite in the bitter
struggle to ‘;preserve the peace” in Korea.
There will be no peace of mind for think
ing people anywhere in the world. No
one can do a full-time job of being happy
now. The race between the quick and
the dead is in fuU swing, and only the
foolhardy can stop to indulge in a whole
day of peace and celebration. We will
have to take our peace and celebration on
the run, doing our best to feel it inside
of us while we go on with the process of
self-preservation.
It will be a sad day, should it ever
come, that we do not have time to feel
the spirit of Christmas in the air.
That day is not yet in sight, thank
heaven. Today a great part of the world
is already feeling the advent of Christ
mas, and while they may not have the
time or opportunity to observe it in the
way they wish to, it has not been, nor wiU
it ever be lost, as long as there are people
around who believe that they can leam
to live with each other peacefully at least
one day out of the year.
of
cabbages
and kings
By ED ENGLES
THREE TIMES SIX IS EIGHTEEN, OR,
DO UNTO OTHERS BEFORE THEY DO
UNTO YOU
By OGDEN SHRDLU
Next to waking up in a strange house to
feel a cold disembodied hand fumbling
over your face.
The worst thing in the world is what
some animals do to other animals, and
when I say animals 1 refer to the
human race.
And the fat ones get fatter and the lean
ones leaner, simply because the fat ones»
take what the lean ones need to keep
from getting leaner and use what they
can then put the rest in storage, “just
in case.”
And pretty soon a few of the lean ones
with fat heads get the other lean ones
all worked up until they do such things
as start riots in the market place.
And they get kidded into thinking that this
is the only way they will ever get better
homes and gardens, porcelain pumbing,
television, or more living space.
And then the fun begins, and the fat ones
all call each other up on the telephone
and comment sneeringljj to each other
on what they consider a gross exhibi
tion of execrable taste,
But pretty soon they stop calling each
other up and start packing, because, one,
all the telephones are out of order, and,
two, there is no one left to sneer with,
as their numbers are diminishing at a
remarkable pace.
Suddenly there ate no fat ones left,
except maybe a few, who slink around
trying to look hungry, but this is hard
on account of all the atmosphere they
displace,
And before you know it, even they disap
pear without leaving ary a trace.
And then the lean ones all join hands and
dance around the city square and loot
the fat ones' storage rooms, using what
they can, then putting the rest in stor
age “just in case.”
And, I suppose by now you’ve guessed it,
some of the lean ones get fat and look
upon their bony brethren with a grim
ace
And refer to them as “the populace.”
And they are horrified when they discover
that the poor, benighted skinny horde
actually sits down to eat without saying
grace.
And after they get just fat enough, it oc-
X curs to them that they would come out
second best, to say the least, in a chase,
0
And they begin to question the morality
of fighting for one’s rights and trying
to fill the gaps between one’s ribs by
violence, and they think it’s a disgrace.
And speaking of morals, lead the conver
sation away from whiskey and women,
leaving them stranled high and dry
in virgin territory, so to speak, and all
of the fat ones and most of the lean
ones wouldn’t know a moral from sec-
nd base.
There is a moral to this too, yes there is,
which I shall reveal to you after first
pointing ouvthat, although it would be
nice if all the fat ones started to get
lean and all the lean ones fat, and ev-
everyone just got pleasingly plump, that
would be keen, but, unfortunately, such
is not the case.
And the moral is as follows: If you are
a lean one and wish to become a fat
one, and you find that when it comes
to climbing the ladder of success you
can’t even get to first base,
Then do what most of the fat ones did but
won’t admit it, try the elevator or the
staircase.
the
yankee peddler
By BOB WRIGHT
We understand that the word “vaUda-
tion” was used more during the first week
of this quarter than at any other time in
the history of Alamance county.
4
♦ ♦ ♦
We hereby dedicate the song “I’ll Have
a Blue Christmas Without You” to our
bank account.
Christmas must have been a relatively
simple affair back in the old days— one
just had Chrisamas. Now we have “White
Christmas,” “Blue Christmas,” “Old-fash
ioned Christmas,” and finally the straw
that has the camel’s back creaking—“Tele
vision Christmas.” What’ll you have?
There’s quite a selection.
Observation
If TV strains the eyes, my guess is
The blame is on the V-neck dresses.
Room No. 1 in the Club House is the
scene of a one-man war against the mouse
population. The score to date is one
blown up an two- by electrocution. Per
haps the adage about building a better
mouse trap started it all.
Notice to one and all: This column is
being typed on the typewriter that strayed
from the M & G office. It was discovered
in the I.R.C. room. WHY don’t people
tell us when they borrow things? We
didn’t, appreciate having to scour the
campus the night before two final
exams.
Admonition
Best beware of the morning after;
Christmas cheer can be disaster.
We can’t pass without adding one more
pat on Sal Gero’s back. A superlative
competitor has been justly rewarded.
« « «
When Dr. Smith arrived on the scene
of the Elon-U.N.C. basketball game in a
v,'heelchair, it looked like a return en
gagement of “The Man Who Came To
Dinner.”
Looks like Elon’s basketball court is
going to be the scene of some thrilling
games this year. From what we’ve seen,
we conclude that Doc’s ..Golden Horde
will be serious contenders for North State
honors again this year.
Perhaps the selection of those sailor-like
warm up jackets was made on the basis of
the quote, “Damn the torpedoes, full
speed ahead.
We’ve tapped out enough copy now to
get to what we’ve been wanting to say all
the time. Merry Christmas, and, we
pray, a Happy New Year.
ORPHANAGE PARTY
There is a Christmas party being given
for the orphan’s home here at Elon on
December 18. Don't pass up this chance
to make Christmas mean something
to somebody.» These children are depen
dent on you for their Christmas gifts, and,
even more important than gifts, for a re
newal in their belief that there is some
body around who knows that they are
alive, someone who cares what happens
to them on their biggest day of the year,
Christmas.
Merry Christmas to you all.
'’The Night A Her Christmas'’
Twas the night after Christmas and boy, what a house,
I felt like the dickens and so did the spouse.
The egg-nog and turkey and candy were swell,
But ten hours later, they sure give us—well!
The stockings weren’t hung by the chimney with care ...
The things were sprawled on the back of a chair.
The children were nestled all snug in their bed,
But I had a large cake of ice on my head.
And when I finally dozed off in a nap,
The ice woke me up when it fell in my lap.
Then, for some reason, I wanted a drink,
So I started to feel my way to the sink.
I got along fine ’til I stepped on the cat.
I don’t recall just what occurred after that.
When I came to the house was flooded with light.
And under the table I was high as a kite.
While visions of sugar plums danced in my head
I somehow got up and back into bed.
Then what to my wandering mind should appear
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
Then the sleigh seemed to change to a red fire truck
And each reindeer turned into a bleary-eyed buck.
I knew in a moment it must be old Nick—
I tried to cry out. but my tongue was too thick.
The old rascal whistled and shouted with glee,
While the bucks pawed the earth and looked daggers at me.
Then he called them by name, and the names made me shudder.
I felt, when I heard them, like a ship minus a rudder.
“Now Egg-nog, Bacardi, Four Roses and Brandy,
Now Fruit Cake, Cold Turkey, Gin Rickey and Candy—
To the top of his dome, to the top of his skull,
Now whack away, crack away, with thumps that are dull.” '
And then in a twinkling I felt on my roof,
The prancing and pawing of each cloven hoof.
How long this went on. I’m sure I can’t say—
Though it seemed an eternity, plus a long day.
When finally the night after Christmas had passed,
And I found I could really think straight at last,—
I thought of the New Year a few days away
And I made a vow that no Temptor could sway.
I’m sticking to water, don’t even want ice.
For there’s nothing as tasty or nothing as nice.
The night after New Year’s may bother some guys,
But I’ve learned my lesson, and brother—I’m wise
You can have your rich victuals and liquor that’s red.
But what goes to my stomach, won’t go to my head
A HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU AND TO ALL.
I’m back on the wagon, BEST REGARDS TO YOU ALL.
—Clipped.
I