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Published Semi-Monthly by the Students of Guilford College
Editor-in-Chief Ernest, White
Managing Editor Frames Alexander
Assistant Managing Editor Mary Edltli Woody
Business Manager Marvin Sykes
Feature Editors li. Poole, Charlotte Parker, Anna Jean Bonham
Sports Editor Clyde Redding
Alumni Editor Miss Era Lasley
Assistant Alumni Editor Mary Bryant
Society Editor Esther Stilson
John McXniry Billy Anderson Earl Maloney
Howard Wooley William Collier Herman Trivette
Louise Ward ' L. T. New Gladys Melville
Winston Davis Claude Hepler Ida Mae Iliggins
Ruth Fuquay Mary Weber Millie Glisson
Elizabeth Gilleam Edith Moore Gerakline McLean
Circulation Manager Earl Kuykend ill
Assistant Business Manager John Bradshaw
Adjress all communication to THE GUILFORDIAN,
Guilford College, N. C.
Subscription price $1.50 per year
Entered at the post office in Guilford College as second class matter
"When Dean Milner gets to be president"— How many times
have we, now the remnants from the old regime of Guilford, heard that
expression ? That far-away date, when Dean Milner became president,
would be the millennium, we thought. None of us believed we would
see the day, except as visitors to our alma mater. But we knew it
And here we are, stradding the old Guilford and the new Guilford.
To the freshmen: our congratulations upon their attainment of
the opportunity of spending their college years under the guidance
of a man sympathetic, open-minded, approachable, a man of the for
ward-pushing generation, their own; a man who has long ago taken
his degree, cum laude, before that most critical of examining boards,
the student body of his own school.
To Dr. Milner: the challenge of our confidence in him as we said,
"'When Dean Milner . . . . "
Children With Degrees?
Under the enlightened curriculum now pressed upon him, he who
swelters upon a commencement platform at Guilford College is sup
posed to be on the road to well-rounded mental maturity. Willy nilly,
whether he will or no, he has learned what the solar system is, what
is inside a cat, the difference between an lonic column and a Doric
column, what goes 011 when lie thinks, if he does, where St. Paul went
011 his missionary journeys, the difference between the Council of the
League of Nations and the Assembly thereof, what a dangling particle
is and the effect of Greek drama upon the plays of Shakespeare.
All this besides what he has learned in the field of his major, pre
sumably a field in which lie is or was interested.
Safely we can say that he has a great many more facts at his dis
posal than he would have had if he had never entered college. Un
doubtedly he is much better-rounded than his fellow high school class
member who went to work four years earlier and who has been working
But does he feel the self-confidence of maturity that a member of
the productive, citizenry, ready to make his way in the world, should
i'eel? In general, he does not. Rather, he is self-sure to a somewhat
less degree than he was when he entered college, ex a high school senior.
Perhaps general conditions and the non-existence of a choice of
openings after graduaution has something to do with this attitude.
But there is something else. Just what, we cannot say; probably it
arises from a number of causes, social life, smallness of the school, the
fact that we are a small community to ourselves, general lack of sophis
tication in school life. Or the material that the faculty has to deal
with in the first place.
This is the gauntlet that we throw at the feet of the exponents of
the new curriculum: to graduate not boys and girls with the degrees
of bachelor of arts or science but men and women, ready for life in a
very real world.
To the Frosh
Perhaps by now you are wondering why in the name of all you
ever came to this place and how anyone could run a fever over the
Most people do not like Guilford a great deal at first. The paths
are dusty, the campus lacking far of being a carpet of velvet green,
the buildings showing their age.
Practically everyone who stays here most of a year becomes very
fond of the place. Just stay with it and you too will be one of the
proud sons or daughters of the school by the end of the year. That
is our promise to you.
Loitering in the halls, strolling
dreamily down cherished lanes, the
campus "widders" present an amorous
ly pensive, or just plain pining, group.
They can be seen fondly engaged in
reminiscent thoughts of "him" at al
most any time. With the late arrival
of "Pack," however, one fair soph is
all smiles once more. But only sweet
dreams to the rest.
What well known ministerial student
returned from a date, and evidently
excited, proceeded to brush his teeth
with a straight razor? Also, he blushes
profusely at "Here Comes the Navy."
While in the case of another young
minister, it seems that he and his room
mate are both very much that way
about the same girl. It's the love enig
ma of New North.
With the advent of the Frosh, quite
a number of colorful figures have al
ready appeared. It seems that "John
Dillinger's sister" holds (he spotlight
for activity. Unabashed, she socks 'em
and kicks 'em with liberal doses. One
very shy freshman was seen flying
against the wall as the result of her
punches. Another one was reported to
have been considerably embarrassed in
class when his lap was selected for a
place of repose.
It seems that the boys, who have been
"trotting" with that very fair frosh
from Liberty have all adopted the same
theme song—"l never had a chance."
Her "big moment" is reported to have
wired her the first day she was here.
While contrasted to this, Bill Sichol
told an admiring group of freshmen
that he wished a girl would fall for
him. Girls, here's your chance!
According to Mrs. Milner's definition,
the micromaniac of Cafx Hall, or just
Kyke to you, completely astounded one
freshman lass the other evening with
his spiel of endless tales. She is still
dizzy. However, it is apparent that
there is one fair damsel from way up
"nawth" can certainly take it. Ask
One of the innumerable jokes that
this column hears certainly deserves
printing. It concerns a certain roman
tice couple that was out riding one
night (which, of coarse, is prohibited
at Guilford). It seems that this par
ticular young lady was very romantic
(as some are) and desired a little at
tention. Whereupon, she sweetly in
quired of her handsome escort it he
can drive with one hnnd. Always ready
to please her, if possible, this young
swain immediately replies that he can.
Then, without further comment, he gal
lantly and graciously projects his arm
out of the window. Moral: A bird in
the hand gathers no moss.
Seen at the store the other night was
Dr. Ljung busily engaged in purchas
ing . . . two popcicles. The other one
was for Dr. Campbell. Familiar
"sights" on the campus are Bowen's
"Betsy" and Kyle's "Betsy." One hap
pens to be a Ford, however, and the
other a Chewy. Bowen says that his
has one horsepower, only he forgot to
bring the horse. The graveyard
bench was rather surprised to find that
it was being used as mourning bench
the other night. An unknown home
sick lass was reported to have sought
an outlet of her tears there. . . .
"Rat" Biddle reports rather disconso
lately that his proposal to a Founder's
STirl has as yet been unaccepted. What's
the delay, Dot? . . . Found: A new
use for King Hall besides for classes.
When crowded for dating space, why
not make use of the available rooms?
Or were you one of those taking ad
vantage of this one Sunday night re
cently? . . .
Is it that our beloved French pro
fessor has turned P. K.? It is report
The Fable of the
Our hero, irradiating the frindliness
of a tail-wagging pup, drew abreast a
meek-looking somewhat bewildered per
son, and extending an imperative paw,
"Shake, brother! My name's Von
Ileckley. I'm a freshman, too. Some
The un-pressed individual extend
ed a limpid hand, which Von Heckley
"By the way, do you know anybody
in our class who would make a good
president? I was president of the sen
ior class at Schwartzeimer High."
Von Heckley had difficulty in match
ing his positive stride to the self-ef
facing amble of Jones.
"I wouldn't know. You see, I'm not
Von Heckley's laugh was that of the
perennially self-assured, the laugh of
one whose four feet are more firmly
planted than the very ground they rest
upon. The ground was ever so slightly
"Do you know what? ..."
Jones glanced wearily away.
"Do you know what? I thought you
were a freshman. I'll het you sopho
mores give us the devil."
"I am not a sophomore." Dispir
The laugh was again hearty.
"You're not a junior, are you?"
"I have been."
"Oh-h-h! You-u-u must be a sen
Jones continued to plod past the
music building toward the football field.
Von Heckley clapped him 011 tile back.
"Well, I'm a son-of-a-gun! You don't
look like a senior."
"What sort of plays do they have at
Guilford? You know, I played the lead
in the last four plays we put on at
"Oh," said Jones politely, "I did not
"Boy, I wish they had a lacrosse
team here. But you know these South
ern schools don't have lacrosse."
Jones nodded to a passing faculty
"What's chances of a good football
team this year?"
"What do you think?"
"You know, we were county cham
pions at Schwartzeimer last year."
"And did you play?" Jones' eye
brows were a question mark.
"No, but I was assistant manager for
three years. You know, I graduated in
"Indeed. Perhaps the coach needs
Von Heekley was reduced to ice
cubes, but he rallied quickly and
"You know, a small college is all
right for some fellows. But for a guy
like me "
"A guy like you"—Jones turned with
folded arms—"ought to cut the seat
out of his pants and walk on his
Ed that he was seen at a favorite Guil
ford rendezvous one Sunday night not
so long ago with a member of the fair
sex. . . . Then we heard of one fresh
man who wanted to know if T)r. Bin
ford had a short wave converter on his
"radio." It was asked in all sincerity
and, of course, ignorance. . . . With
the opening of G. C. and W. C. U. N. C.,
you needn't be alarmed when you see
the bumming corner heavily laden. The
annual trek to these campuses will have
begun in full swing. Good news, fel
lows: Mildred Osborne, one of G. C.'s
beauty queens, is back again. . . . Un
til further gossip, this column signs off
with the warning that the "snoops" will
get you unless you are good.
Young Bosher, a lad from the South,
Is blessed with a prodigious mouth.
When he starts in to grin,
My gosh! where's his chin?
His mouth stretches over the South.
September 22, 1934
MY FIRST AMBITION
One of the earliest things I remem
ber "was a fervent desire to perform in
a traveling circus. A person having the
ability to walk a tight rope or ride
bareback was, in my estimation, a gen
ius. My Dad wasn't so very enthusias
tic about the show, but once in a while
he treated me to a performance. On
these occasions I sat 011 the plank seats
absolutely spellbound, and for days I
would walk around with my head in the
I remember distinctly my disappoint
ment when, after much anticipation, my
father told me he couldn't take me to
the circus that night. This was a pun
ishment for picking a neighbor's flow
ers the day before. For about an hour
| angry tears blinded me; then I resolved
I that I just would not be outdone. I got
| together a group of dirty little boys and
girls that lived on our street and per
suaded them without difficulty to get
up a circus by ourselves. The tiniest
tot in the bunch offered a white rat and
a billy-goat. I didn't remember seeing
either in any of the shows I had seen,
but of course there are three rings, and
I couldn't expect to have seen every
thing that went on. Another offered
his sister's Persian cat. She certainly
raised a lot of fuss later about the
brown spots we painted 011 it. I could
not see why, though; the cat didn't
seem to mind. I guess I need not men
tion that I toolc the role of a tight-rope
walker. Wo scurried here and there for
any animals, and in about one hour we
started the acts. Our audience con
sisted of about ten children who had
also been deprived of seeing the Ring
ling Bros. Big Show. Nothing worked
out as we had planned. The Boston
bull spied the Persian cat and refused
to do the tricks his young master had
taught him. The billy-goat managed to
get in the ballet dancer's dressing
room and her costume could easily have
been mistaken for that of Peter Pan. I
took one step on the clothes line. It
broke and I punched two holes in
grandmother's brand-new umbrella.
I decided after an awful spanking
that I'd much rather be a movie actress.
In that profession you could still wear
lovely costumes and it wouldn't be so
LIKED OR DISLIKED
I wonder why some men like me and
some don't, and why I am not the least
attractive to the majority of women? I
make some men look more dignified,
more aristocratic, and more business
like. I serve to make the college pro
fessor more ideal to the pictures of him
painted by his students in their minds.
I seem to be liked best of all by older
men—men in their sixties or seventies.
But, however, I'm quite popular among
younger men, too—men in their early
twenties. College ''sheiks" adore to
give me a trial, just to see the result
or what the rest of the students on
the campus think and say of me. Then,
too, my presence is particularly out
standing 011 gangsters, bandits, and
murderers. I just seem to help them
portray their role in life.
Yet, as I liavo said, I have my ene
mies as well as my friends. Those
young, eare-free lovers seem to dislike
me immediately. I wonder why? Per
haps I'm in their way when they give
their sweethearts that farewell kiss
each night. Many men have given 1110
existence and then murdered me, be
cause I functioned as a soup-strainer,
and they preferred their soup un
strained. I was worn, also, by many
husbands, until their wives accused
them of having a dirty lip; and then
they, too, got rid of me.
It seems that I have a very hard part
to play and that my destiny is uncer
tain. I, just an innocent, helpless lit
tle mustache, must be either liked or
disliked by many people.