But PfuUie . . .
... to the Y and the A. A. this week.
First, praise and thanks to the Y for the
beneficial and, we think, snceessful inarriage
lectures this week. AA^e came to the lectures,
stayed late and liked it. The Y and everyone
concerned with bringing Airs. Ould here de
serve a hearty thanks. Not enough words to
tell Mrs. c)uld how much we liked her.’ She is,
and will remain, one of Salem’s favorite people.
To the A. A. praise and thanks for tlie pep-
rally and bonfire Monday night. It was fun
and did more than a lot of good toward boost
ing school spirit, not only in athletics, but in
general. Let us put in here a word of thanks
to the faculty cheerleaders. AA"e think jmu’re
mighty good sports—thanks a lot for showing
us your “otiier side”.
In fact, with all this evidence of talent,
we’d like to put in a bid for a faculty play
this year. Some of you are for it and we, the
students, think it worthy of a presentation
more often than once every fonr years. The
students want it, the A^ will back it—what
filjout it?
I. R. S.
After Y ieldingTo B lind P Ian,
Folderol Gets Her Man
Foldei’ol, biting at the bed clothes,
. . . before casting your vote for May tossed fitfully in troubled slumber.
Oiioon QnU l\/To,r m 4. • T A She had had blind dates before
tj^ueen and May Court. Forget prentdices and / , , 4 * , • a
^ dim (once when she went to a kinder-
tavorites and be fair and unbiased. May Day garten party) but this one troubled
may seem milleniums away, but the success of subconscious mind. Keepstroam,
what is probably the biggest event of the year
depends on you, the vote-caster. The Alay
Court makes Alay Day. Think of grace, poise
and beauty when you vote next week.
her roommate, had assured her that
this blind date would be different
from all the rest and in a few short
hours, the Knight in Shining White
Armour would be here to squire her
to the Big Dance. Folderol had bor
rowed an evening dress from a
friend of hers who was Chairman of
the Old Clothes for the Needy Child
ren of Bara via, a snappy little num
ber with puffed sleeves, a sweet-
means more than just four initials to a flounce in the
back, giving that “droop” look.
Folderol’s many little friends and
acquaintances assured her that it
was the very thing for her, that she
looked good in that color (a sort of
faded chartreuse with a hint of
nausea) and that HE would be bow
led over. ,
Years passed and finally, the zero
hour came. Armed with her dance
card, a saber (concealed in her flou
nce) and a year’s supply of chloro
form (at times, Folderol’s Puritan
tendencies got the best of her), our
Heroine slid aown the bannister to
her waiting date. What she saw
was a life-size Dali creation, fit for
the schizoid and the insane. He was
•a young thing about five feet tall,
two lU’ominent biscupids (encased in
lovely matching Irraces), tawny skin
flecked with splotches of brown and
hands (with matching feet) the size
tlie impoverished students of Europe and Asia.
1 o them it means an education which they
could not obtain otherwise. AVithout an edu
cated leadership abroad, we cannot hope for
the return of that peace and order which is
necessary for our own security as well as for
that of the rest of the world. As students it
behooves us to accept our share of this respon
sibility.
alemite
ffoitb CaroUoa CoDeglate ^noriiiiii
of ‘Yirginia cured hams. Folderol
had hot and cold flashes and for
nue awful moment thought she was
going to throw up on the floor, but
remembering the suffering of all
woina.nkind, she set her jaw, straigh
tened her flounce and took hold of
the bony arm.
Once at the dance, they waltzed
beautifully to “Begin the Beguine”
and tried a hot shag to “When I
Grosv Too Old to Dream”.
“Do you like to dance?” she ven
tured, sticking her chin out.
“Yeah.”
“Well, then, why don’t- you?”
“I’ve heard that one.”
“Where you from?”
“Nonpluss, Iowa.”
Folderol stuck her fingers in his
eyes and left him, blinded, in the
middle of the floor. A bit disgrunt
led, she made her way to the little
girls’ room, powdered her nose wdth
a Lady Vanity and went back to the
dance floor, smiling encouragingly
at the stag line. Failing utterly,
Folderol spent the rest of the even
ing tearing up bits of decorations,
wliich she made into spitballs and
shot at the legs of the girls who
had on ballerinas. Next she bribed
the photographer to hide a .45 in his
camera, got The Date to have his
picture taken and shot him dead on
the spot. Then she went back to her
own little cloister, made a pie-bed
for Keepstream and went to bed a
happier woman, dreaming of dance
cards, Dali and “Begin the Be-
guine ’ A
Published every Friday of the College year by the
Student body of Salem College
Downtown Office—304-306 South Main Street
Printed by the Sun Printing Company
Vogt Warns Of Starvation;
Depletion Of Soil Is Forseen
OFFICES
Lower floor Main Hall
Subscription Price—$2.75 a year
EDITOEAL DEPARTMENT
Editor-in-Chief Carolyn Taylor
Associate Editor Laurel Green
Associate Editor Mary Porter Evans
Assistant Editor Peirano Aiken
Assistant Editor Dale Smith
Make-up Editors: Helen Brown, Betty Biles
Copy Editors: Joan Carter Bead, Clara Belle Le Grande
Music Editor Margaret McCall
Editorial Staff: lone Bradsher, Tootsie Gillespie,
Euth Lenkoski.
Pictorial Editors: Peggy Ann Watkins and Martha
Hershberger. ,
Ed. Assistants: Dot Arrington, Carolyn Lovelace,
Helen Creamer, Lila Pretwell, Mary Lib Weaver,
Lola Dawson, Winkle Harris, Sybil Haskins^ Ro
bert Gray, Polly Harrop, Frances Eeznick, Nancy
Duckworth, Catherine Moore, Sis Pooser, Clinky
Clinkscales, Pay Stiekney.
Typists: Janet Zimmer and Ann McConnell.
Business Manager
Assistant Business Manager
Advertising Manager
Asst. Advertising Manager
Circulation Manager
Joyce Privette
Betsy Schaum
— Betty McBrayer
. Mary Faith Carson
Janie Fowikes
by Frances Eeznick
A “Saturday Evening Post”
ivriter is, it would seem, hardly one
to lay down a profound law of the
land or to give us a great principle
by which to. live. Yet William Vogt
has successfully done that in his
recent book, Eoad to Survival. And
the law of the land he sets down
is that of the plundered, worn land
from which we live richly and satis-
fyingiy- .
Though at the moment we may
have all the food, resources, and
minerals we want, Mr. Vogt warns,
the future of the w^orld is being
threatened by our neglect. We are
making a far too weak attempt to
save our land and resources in order
to meet the needs of vast multipli
cations in populations. The supply
of food over the whole earth is being
tragically depleted; yet at the mom
ent we, well fed, find this hard to
realize.
Public sentiment concerning man’s
abuse of natural resources has al
ways been great. Public action, on
the other hand, has always been
lacking. One reason is man’s self
ishness, his fear of suffering a
slight loss for the benefit of the
future of others. For instance, sena
tors in Congress from the mid-west,
though they realize that there are
vast, fertile unused grazing fields in
Argentia and Australia, continually
fight legislation which allows rais
ing of cattle outside of their own
abused, trodden, exhausted land.
The writer’s warning cry is force
ful' and awful. He makes his plea
’ll simple, unadorned language. In
spite of much geological data, popu
lation figures, etc., there is a drama
and scenes of turmoil and excite-
mtmt. One does not have to be a
scientist to understand the language
of Eoad to Survival. The informa
tion the author wishes to impart is
stated so lucidly and interestingly
that the reader does not know he
is dealing with cold, authentic fact.
William Vogt, indeed, has come a
Dng way from the “Saturday Even
ing Post” in his book. Road to Sur
vival. In it he reveals a problem
which IS as important to us as that
of a Third World War, or a good
foreign policy, or the Russian dile
mma. Yet the entire book is as
interesting as a good story in the
Saturday Evening Post.”
by Joan Carter Read
In spite of all the nisli of g-etting the
Salemite to bed on AA^ednesdav night we still
have time to wonder what happened to our
last year’s staff. As we struggle with a rewrite
job someone wishes Frances Gulesian were here
to spice it up a bit. Or if it’s a headline that
u'ou’t quite fit, then we all wish for a bit of
Peggy Davis’s vocabulary which could always
find a substitute word. Then when it comes to
doing a column like this then each of us groans
for a “Little Mumbly” to do her weekly job of
■ exploiting and satirizing our local goings-on,
Finally, 1 could stand it no longer. Surely
somebody must know what they ai'e up to
where they live, what they are doing. Snoop
ing has always been a specialty of mine so I
just hunted around some desks and kept my
ears clean and found—
“My dear, you should have seen me taking
my little swimming test at the Y last week We
had to swim six lengths and then keep onr
naughty little hands away from the edge of
the pool for 20 minutes, yvhieh is a darn long
time ^to pretend you’re a fish, if you ask me.
Using every easy stroke 1 knew I gasped out
the six lengths, and then floated for 20 minu
tes, getting progressively fuller of yvater.
Every time the instructor looked at me 1 wig-
gh'd my fins and bhwv yvater out of my mouth,
hoping she would think 1 was a baby whale
and leave me alone, but that bathing suit gave
me away. Anyway, 1 passed the test with
flying colors (blue face and purple lips) and
a promise to myself to take swimming this win
ter at the A"—P. S. Tell Miss Byrd that tho
ugh we have a wonderful faculty at AVilliam
Smith, there is no one quite like her up here.”
Frances Gulesian
Cat Gregory and Janie Morris are living
in Richmond and Cat writes:
“A^our .spirited friends have finally launch
ed themselves into the Brave New AYorld and
all is well. AA”e have a basement apiartment,
with a wonderful little private entrance.. There
is a living room, kitchen, two‘ bedroms and a
bathroom. In one of the bedrooms there is a
double bed and also a single bed. Through
love of companionship (and through fear of
murder, robbery, etc.) we all stay in that room,
thus, we have a GUEST ROOM. A”es, we are
I'eally living in fine style. Of course, the walls
are brick, with partitions of plywood; and all
tlie floors are cement and linoleum. There are
loaches, tiny windows and all the other attend
ant horrors of a basement. AA^e love it though,
and are proud, of ‘onr little home’ as we call
it among ourselves.,
Janie got her job with Advertising, Incor
porated, and has been hard at work since Thur
sday. She has a private office, and is really a
big time wheel. Her first copy appeared in
-fhe Richmond Times-Dispateh this Sunday.
And I, after much tromjiing of streets and
timid inquiries to receptionists and other hor
sey ladies, finally secured a position. I am sec
retary, bookkeeper, helper and receptionist to
the nervous little man who is head of the Dis
play Department at Thalhimer’s. Lie super
vises all window displays, floor displays, etc.,
and I have to keep up the budget, correspon-
ance and answer three phones.
As for last year’s editor-in-chief, Peggy
Davis writes from “a spiffy Madison Avenue
apartment in New York” that she is terrifically
usy dictating letters to campus Chesterfield
representatives all over the country, and as
sembling a monthly newssheet, “The Rep Re
port. She added longingly, “I almost wish I
were back in the catacombs working with you
all.”
KiS