Page Two.
THE SALEMITE
March 19, 1943.
MELA.S CAN BE STIRRED
Published Weekly By The Student Body
of Salem College
Member Southern Inter-Collogiate Press Association
SUBSCEIPTION PEICE - $2. A YEAE - 10c A COPY
Editor-In-'Chief
Associate Editor Bobbie Whittier
Associate Editor Katherine Manning
Make-Up Editor ^ary T. Best
There’s nothing in the world we’d rather do than squat right here
over this blasted typewriter beating out stufE we’ve heard . . , nothing!
■Nothing, that is, unless some charitable being would call the stern
voice of Duty off us. But without that voice... . oh boys, what a
! There’d be none of that
Mildred Av«ra
Margaret Bullock
Rosalind Clark
Ethel Halperh
Barbara Humbert
Frances Jones
Senora Lindsey
Sarah Merritt
Lucille Newman
M^MIVKNTSO ro» NATIONAL AOV«RTI»IM« •Y
National Advertising Service, Inc.
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420 M&DMON AVI. New York. N.yi
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Ceil Nuchols' ''eally glorious debauch we could put on
trudging over to the library pulling our hair in endeavor to keep our
selves awake long enough to jot one or two filthy little items down on
them infernal 3x5 cards . . . there’d be none of that indigestion at
the breakfast table on account of quizes at eight-thirty . . . there’d be
none of them classes prior to ten-thirty, none after eleven-thirty, and
none at all for us lost souls which have given up all interest what-so-
ever in education anyhow. Ah, but think ahead. Friends . . . four more
weeks until spring vacation . . . then five weeks after spring vacation
. then June. Life distinctly can be beautiful.
EDITORIAL AND FEATTJEE STAFF
Music Editor Margaret Leinbach
Sports Editor
French Editor ^ib Bernhardt
Peggy Nimocks
Mary Louise Rhodes
Doris C. Schaum
Julia Smith
Nancy Stone
Helen Thomas
Katherine Traynham
• Margaret Wiastead
Kathryn Wolff
Lois Wooten
BUSINESS DEPARTMENT
Business Manager Mary Margaret Struven
Ass^t Business Manager Mary Elizabeth Bray
Advertising Manager Betty Moore
Circulation Sara Bowen, Ellen Stucky
ADVERTISING STAFF
Margy Moore, Elizabeth Beckwith, Katie Wolff,
Jane Willis, Nancy Vaughn, Corrinne Faw, Martha
Sherdod, Becky Candler, Adele Chase, Nancy McClung,
Sarah Lindley, Allene Seville, Elizabeth Griffin, Har
riet Sutton, Ruth O’Neal, Yvonne Phelps, Elizabeth
Bernhardt, Edith Shapiro.
WHAT’S YOUR OPINION TO A
NUT SHELL?
Yesterday’s election returns show that only
66% of the student body cares enough about
its privilege of self-government to even go to
the polls and vote. While this is deplorable,
it’s nothing new.
Looking back through a file of old SALBM-
ITES we found that the election story is quite
old. There is an editorial here condemning
non-voters, one there to spur students to “do
their duty” at the polls. And yet after the
election sieges had died down, the students
Avho didn’t bother to vote were in. loud voices
shouting discontent. This year, for instance,
we editorial writers have stabbed out at many
things, not only because of personal convic
tions, but also because we felt the pressure
of many students behind us . . . quite often the
things that we objected' to most violently were
the «obvious consequences of the voting last
year. We writers rarely stopped to think
whether the students whose opinions we were
expressing had riglits to opinions (and many
times most of them probably did not). The
people who took time to vote, elected their
candidate and logically had little cause for
complaint; the other hoarde by free choice
w'anted to be governed rather than to govern.
If it was their opinions that we gave voice to,
forgive us, for we knew not what we did.
Perhaps a bit of reasoning will help to
awaken these people with intelligent ideas and
lazy dispositions: If the students as a whole
are not interested in the various organizations
which the students in the past fought to get, it
is a useless farce to hang on merely to carry
out tradition. If, however, as we rightly sup
pose, the organizations are a live part of our
Salem life.. . . then they must have the interest
and the support of all the students or they can
not be representative, just or successful. If
it is to be your Stee Gee, your “Y,” your
Athletics Council, your I. R. S. Council, then it
must have yoiir vote behind each candidate
When you have cast your vote, you may fight
pro or con to your heart’s content — and we
hope you do . . . but until you vote you can
neither expect nor demand representation.
—M. T. B.
One of her less beautiful moments, however, was the time we were
passing by the telephone in Sisters’ just as the gong gonged. Somebody
said to just lift the job'off the hook and bellow, “Zinzendorf,” because
otherwise the other end wouldn’t know it had the right number. So
we did . . . and so it was the dean summoning Katherine Manning to
explain her lack of cooperation. Wlonderful!
Then there was that yotf-know-what-I’d-call-it-were-this-not-the
Salemite fire drill.: We hate like all get-out to wage feuds with the
rest of this page . . . but that FIPE DRILL! Really! We simply can’t
cope with but one kind of drill at the time, and we ain’t quite got the
hang of air raids yet ... so when the bells started clanging, we started
■blowing out the lights and falling dowp steps to the basement just as
fast as we possibly could. And what did we get? . , , that lack-of-
cooperation speech prepared for Katherine Manning but ^not delivered
on account of the fire drill hitting too soon! Everything we do is
wrong . . . dead wrong . . . just ask aiiybody . . . esi>ecially just ask
the deans!
The final blow ... the very final one ... is Vivian Engram out in
the hall yelling about having to go buy her husband some sun glasses
Oh, for a husband! ... or oh, even for some sun!
Not on quite so low a plane as spring fever and frustration, how
ever; we have Monday night’s orchestra concert. After four years of
hearing about Miss Read’s child prodigy, we finally gathered our courage
to go and listen to her . . . and she was wonderful! And Miss Reid
looked gorgeous as a mama chicken in black crepe and red roses. \\ e
think now that it would probably behoove us to check a music hour
or so before departing for the cruel unsheltered world . . . yipee!
And while we’re in the Things That Impress The Thick Heads De
partment, we feel it necessary to comment on Rabbi Rosenthal’s chapel
talk of Tuesday last. We: frankly thought he was superb . . • even
better than last year. In fact, while we were sitting there enjoying
him, we couldn’t help realizing that chapel programs as a whole have
been vastly superior to last year’s Now watch ’em . . . next time
we’ll have a tracing of the history of that blade of grass which struggles
outside Main Hall’s East exit! ’ies sir . . . it’s fated.
What we didn’t know we were fated for though is another shot
at Dr. Hart. Oh you all, you just don’t know . . . he’s the most mag
nificent creature that ever strode about on two feet! It’s the one time
that even the heathens swarm to religious emphasis services. Just wait
. you’ll seel
Then last night, as if it there weren’t enough chaos with all the
black-out and the utter bedlam over who was finally going to be bond
queen, the night watchman had to go and practice target shooting at
two little darkies who were merely trying to break into' the dining room.
Target shooting was a wise idea, too . . . what we really don’t care
to have happen is for him to miss threqr times in a row like that when
would-be murderers loom upon the campus! The most efficient part of
the whole ordeal, however; was his sending Casserole to summon two
cops in order that the three of them might loiter there under the very
chiefest spot-light on the whole campus waving their pistols aimlessly
at the steps. Wonder what his salary is?
Yea verily, once there was a kitten ^whose
name was Melas — and a lazier, more com
placent, self-satisfied kitten could not be found
anywhere. She didn’t want to do a thing all
day long but sleep and wash her pretty pink
nose.
Now near Melas lived a ferocious blood
hound who was forever scaring daylights out
of cats in the neighborhood. He would howl
and chase the poor harrassed cats up telephone
poles, or people depending on which was
nearer.
One day as Melas was washing her pretty
pink nose and admiring her round white
tummy, three cats tore past her, scurrying to
safety and meowing at the top of their lungs
that the bloodhound was hot on their tails.
Melas said “Oh, bother,” and settled herself
for a nap in the sun regardless of danger.
She awoke with a start — for glaring down
at her was the bloodhound, resplendent with
fangs and growls.
Since there was no way she could run —
and her beautiful bushy tail was pushed flat
against a wall, Melas decided that now was
the time to have done with day dreams, vanity
and complacency. She bowed her back and
brought forth her claws and gave the feroc
ious bloodhound a lesson in the efficiency of
female fighting. The ferocious bloodhound
tucked his tail between his legs and ran away
marvelling—
howling—
Now the moral of this tale is this—ain’t it
grand how Salem has responded to the Red
Cross and Bond Drives? We’ll'admit that it
took a mighty long time for us to get aroused
sufficiently to show spirit over this war — but
like Melas, once aroused we’ll take action. ^
The reports so far have shown 100% sup
port of the Bond and Red Cross drives. Just
one look over the campus will prove how ef
fective that drive has been, for nearly every
dormitory window on the campus' has a
cheerful red insignia plastered on it.
So much has been said about the lack of
spirit and participation in the various drives,
on this campus that we’d like to praise a bit.
Salem has done well—has given generously to
these two drives — and like Melas will fight
with female eft’iciency once really upset.
—N. S.
THE PASSWORD IS YOO-HOO
“II pleure dans mon coeur.’ Toutes les jeunes fiUes de Salem disent
cela maintenant, i>arceque les papiers de term sont dus. Pour ecrire un
papier de term il faut qu’on Use le materiel qu’on puisse trouver sur
son sujet. Alors on commence 8, ecrire. II parait que plus on ecrit
plus on a &§crire. Naturellement les epreuves de mi-semestre viennenfc en
meme temps. Si on a de la chance on n’en a que trois ou quatre cette
semaine. Entre les Epreuves et les papiers de term on perd presque sa
force et sa vie.
At the house meeting Monday night, we
Strongites were knocked breathless by an an
nouncement that was made concerning our
smoke house. What was said was a surprise
and shock to us, to say the least I So we’d like
to clear a misinterpreted announcement.
First of all, we want it to l)e known that
everyone is welcome at Strong. And we’ll
do bur best to show each a good time. What
we do object to (and what was so wrongly
stated at Monday night’s shindig) is the fact
that the girls from other dorms barge in on
U'S, with their dates, when we are unawaring-
ly playing-bridge, gowned in our p-j’s. The
girls, of course, can always feel at home in
our smoke house, but we’re sure your blushing
dates don't appreciate the pajama party
prance as we dash out of the door and up the
stairs, our hair curlers dragging behind us!
If you’ll just warn us with a phone call or a
loud Yoo-Hoo, we’re sure that this embar
rassing situation can be avoided. '
So Salemites, let’s ^ee you all down in our
domain, and please give us a chance to dis
play our true hospitality. But if you bring a
date, please don’t forget the Yoo-Hoo!
See you in Strong!
—A. C.