PAGE TWO
MAROON AND GOLD
Wednesday, April 18, 1951
Maroon 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 the
Post Office at Elon College, N. C., under
the Act of March 8, 1879. D«livered by
mail, $1.50 the college year, 50c the
qujrter.
EDITORIAL BOARD
Edward Engles Editor-In-Chief
Lynn Cashion Associate Editor
Justyn Carter Music Editor
J. B. Pickard Feature 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
Jeanne Pitman Sports Assistant
ART STAFF
Keil Johnson Roy Grant
Tony Diamond Cooper Walker
REPORTERS
Sheffield Abell Virginia Pla
Hazel Barker Donald Scott
Jane Boone Mildred Sharpe
Harry Farmer Robert Smithwick
William Hunter Oliver Thomas
Rachel Matthews Lester Squires
Happie Wilson
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 18, 1951
KEEP A GRAIN OF SALT ON HAND
Don’t believe everything you read in
the papers. Before you go off half cocked,
stop and think back. Remember. Think
about what you read in the papers before
the second World War, during the war,
since it “ended.”
Some of you may not remember the
days when Hitler was getting a lot of
praise for the way he was building Ger
many into a strong and healthy nation.
Most of you, however, can remember
when he started his chain of conquests;
you can recall a bit of the uneasy fear
that slowly pervaded the world; you prob
ably remember when the world stopped
looking at him as something merely ob
noxious and realized he was dangerous
to world peace.
Then came the war. The atrocity stor
ies were rampant, and, undoubtedly, the
greater part of them were true. Italy
and Japan, with their quick, stabbing en
tries, were branded as treacherous sneaks.
Germany attacked Russia, a nation that
has always made the world queasy. Rus
sia became “our great democratic ally in
the east.’’
Little Finland, whose previous gallant
war with the Soviet Union was greatly
admired by almost all Americans, auto
matically became our enemy when she
did the only thing she could do under
the circumstances; line up with Hitler
and war on Russia.
By this time we were all becoming a
little confused. We hadn’t quite learned
the trick of backing away from our for
mer convictions without a blush.
We seem to have learned our lesson
well, however. We now have nothing but
sympathy for the Italians; we think of
the Germans as having been deluded;
our best friends in the Orient today are
probably the smiling little Japs, whose
smile we did our best to obliterate at Na
gasaki and Hiroshima.
Our great democratic ally in the east
has now become public enemy number
one. Tito, a smaller edition of Uncle Joe,
is our ally, not because his ideology is
any less poisonous than that of the Sovi
ets, but simply because he’s agin who
we’re agin.
And Franco. Would that we could af
ford to spit on Franco. But no, it is be
ginning to look as though the little Hitler
may prove valuable to us, and bashful
overtures are being made to promote
friendship between us. Watch the Franco
case. It should prove interesting to ob
serve the methods used to convince us
that Franco is really, under his black,
bloody, scummy hide, a real benign old
gent, who lives like a good, clean Ameri
can boy, goes to church every Sunday,
kisses babies and old ladies, loves to read
American comic strips, and feels that he
just can’t go on living unless we can be
pals to the end.
So don't believe what you read in the
papers. It may be necessary, but it ain’t
necessarily true. It looks as though the
best results will come from thinking for
yourself, painful as that may seem at
times.
farmer
in the dell
By
HARRY FARMER
The picture of the bathing beauty you
saw at the head of this column in the last
issue was net, I want to point out, ME. It
was an old picture of Nash Parker, before
the Draft scare as a matter of fact.
* Jfc *
I was informed by my Sweet the other
day that all Greeks go to church in a
Weiniegog.
* * *
I would like to bring to tJhe attention
of the faculty the fact that Guilford has
visited us on several occasions and what
they brought with them almost shook old
North Dorm down. The cold war I didn’t
mind, but when they start shooting off
explosives under my nose I begin to worry.
Like Now.
Saw in the paper where a woman got
shot in the fracas. What’s a fracas?
» 5*: %
When they start giving out negative
BA’s I'll be the fixst to graduate. I've
already lost enough hours to go cut the
positive way. But why graduate any
way? We know what happens to boys who
leave school. A command car caught
two the other day who were just going
downtown for cigarettes.
* * *
The chow hall serves salads just like
the ones Mother used to make us eat. 1
didn’t say it! I didn't say it!
We have been asked to investigate the
validity of an unconfirmed report that
there is a snake cult springing up on the
campus. How low! The dirty rats prob
ably practice during Chapel period too.
1 saw a disturbing thing in the paper
last week. In headlines was the follow
ing; “Local Woman’s Son Killed In Ko
rea. ” The boy who gave his life fighting
a war which our government only half
heartedly supports got only secondary
mention. Don't get me wrong, I think
mothers are fine, and I have one whom
I love very dearly, but when they print
stuff like that my blood runs cold. You
would think that the mother involved
only had a son so that she could benefit
socially by his death. It is high time the
boys who go out and die got a few of the
laurels. Do mothers think they are do
ing someone a favor by having a baby?
They always told me it was their duty,
which ended the Romans. So there.
» » ♦
The boys over at the Lodge the other
day were wondering if any of the Veter
ans wlio marched on Raleigh hoping to
get a state bonus for d9ing theijr duty
have jobs. Another question which arose,
was whether or no any of them had ever
been close to a firing Ime. Personally,
I doubt if a real man, and soldier, would
be seen with that bunch of Bums. 1 would
like to know also, the number of them
who rode the “Fifty-Two Twenty Club”
to the maximum after they v/ere dis
charged.
It's getting to the place where a man
spends a year or so in the service of his
country, has the best time he ever had,
goes to places he always dreamed about
but never expected to see, comes home,
and expects the government to support him
for the rest of his life. No, it's not com
munism, it’s just plain laziness. The kind
which ended the Romans.
* ^ *
Remark heard in a church lobby after
a wedding. He's so poor his children will
call him Pauper instead of Popper.
* * *
We are reminded of the studpnt who
transferred from Elon to Guilford and
raised the standards of both schools.
s)' * »
Don't forget the Players production,
which will be presented on the 18th and
19th. “You Can’t Take It With You”
should be a screech.
I have a girl in Norfolk who is so dumb
that she thinks “to forebear” means to
have quadruplets.
of
cabbages
and kings
By ED ENGLES
The stiff-legged walks you may have
observed on some of the mere athletic
members of the veterans apartment area
are caused by the latest intra-mural sport
. . . marbles. If you’re interested, you
can find a game going almost any after
noon down near the cesspool. Bring
plenty of marbles, however, because wc
play for keeps.
What is this craze that has swept the
country, this business of calling everyone
who disagrees with you a communist,'
If you dare to voice an opinion that dif
fers from the one that is standardly pre
vailing, then you’re a communist. What
is happening to our country, fcrmeily
the bastion of free speech, when anyone
^ who speaks against war is labeled a com
munist?
Do you think that the average man in
the U. S, wants peace? It would be nice
if that were true, but all the arm-chair
belligerents who shout “Communist at
everyone who proposes peace give a dif-^
ferent impression. To be a patriot these
days, it seems that you have to get out
and run as fast as you can down the path
to sure destruction.
♦ ♦ ♦
Looks as though the Colonnades is
definitely not a false alarm this time, and
its headlong flight into extinction has been
checked. Professor West and his staff
have begun putting it together, and stu
dents should be able to purchase their
copy around the first of May.
^ *
If, within the past few days, I may have
been a bit rude to anyone, or if I didn't
speak to someone in the hall, you must
excuse me, but the fact is I haven't been
getting much sleep. In the pond in my
front yard, a single loud-mouthed , frog
has been croaking the blues at frequent
and irregular intervals very night for
three nights in a row, and between listen
ing to the little crud croak, listening when
he wasn't hollering and expecting it any
minute, and listening to my poor wife
slamming the door, muttering curses
(she’s really a nice kid), and pegging rocks
into the pond at four o’clock in the morn
ing, then lying awake with red eyes star
ing at the ceiling until the little green
communist starts up again, I have been
slowly sliding into hysteria.
Thanks to a couple of intrepid hunters,
however, peace once again has descended
on Corncob Concourse. They caught him
gazing at the moon the other night and
splattered him with a .22 slug. A vote of
thanks to these unsung heroes, and they
are both hereby invited to our house for
beer and a spaghetti dinner.
Finally found a guy who got a black
eye without running into a door. Seems
that he opened the door, and the smell of
the cesspool hit him.
If you haven’t seen the remarkably
true-to-scale map of Elon on the wall in
the Campus Shcp, you must drop in and
take a look. It’s a doozy, and there are
illustrated sections for the illiterate
among us.
This business of the “gimme-gimme”
boys marching on Raleigh for “what the
state owes them” reminds me of the
time we got a hole blown in the side of
our ship by a stray shell. As the sea
was a little choppy, and the hole was
shipping water, two of the merchant sea
men went over the side to shore up the
gap.
So they fix the hole, so that the ship
won’t sink; then, right in the middle of
an air attack, they put in a beef to the
first mate for overtime.
The very fact that they got overtime
for a half hour’s work to save a ship is a
pretty sad commentary on human in
tegrity. Once there was a time when
people did things because things needed
doing. Now it’s getting to the point
where they want money, of all things, for
the time they spend saving their own
lives.
You Can^t Take It With You^
Depicted above is a scene from
the rearing comedy. “You Can't
Take It With You.” Reading left
to right, those standing are Hap-
fie Wilson, who plays Essie, the
feather-brained bailet student;
iCmma Jean Clayton, who, due to
last-minute diffici;lties, has been
replaced in the cast by Rosamond
Bromley, and Glenn King. the
lovers v,'ho run afoul of their "e-
spective families; and the Russian
ballet instructor, Kolenkhov, play
ed by Lynn Cashion. Seated are
Bob Harned, a G-man who doesn't
know what he has gotten into; J,
B Pickard, as Paul, who makes
fireworks in the ba.sement; and
Lois Walker, as Penny, who writes
pAoys.
ROSAMOND BROMLEY
ABOVE; Rosamond Bromley,
well remembered for her roles in
previous Elon Player productions,
plays the part of the deeply-in-
love Alice Sycamore, who wishes
that her family were just a little
closer to normal, so that she
wouldn't have to be afraid to bring
guests home.
BELOW: Glenn King, as the
dashing Tony Kirby. The boss’s
son, he is head over heels in Icve
ivith Alice, his secretary, and does
everything he can to convince her
that family differences are not
important.
LOIS WALKER
ABOVE: Lois Walker, the
mother, Penny, to whom the whole
world is wonderful and happy,
and who writes plays because
someone left a typewriter at
house by mistake.
BELOW: Lynn Cashion, thp
bombastic Russian ballet instru(|-
tcr, who seems to make a living
trying to teach Essie (Happie Wil
son) to dance. He doesn’t have
much success with her, but he
gets plenty to eat at the Syca
more household.
GLENN KING
BOB WALKER
ABOVE: Bob Walker.
Grandpa Vanderhoff, the o: !
steadying influence in a famil, o'
screwballs. His lOve cf life and
knowledge of hu;ian nature 1st;:
’ihings on a reasonably even keel.
In the scene be.ow are, left f(
right, Laury Rockel, Patsy Milam
Joe Brankley, Bob Walker (seated',
Richard Newman and Roger Wil
son, Everyone seems to be en
joying the bewilderment of tine
income tax collector (WilsonV
who can’t convince Grant’.pa
(Walker) that ho should pay his
taxes.
LYNN CASHION
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