Page Two
THE TWIG
April 18, 1947
Member
Pbsociated GoUe&ote Press
EDITORIAL STAFF
Martha Hamrick Editor
Barbara Shellsmith Managing Editor
Stella Lassiter Associate Editor
Ruth Hall Associate Editor
Mary Louise Milliken Associate Editor
Frances Alexander Feature Editor
Emily Hine Photo Editor
Jean Bradley Columnist
Christine Creech Music Editor
Bette Linney Sports Editor
Reporters—Ruth Miller, Edith Fleming,
Stella Austin, Jerry Winfree, Mabel
Baldwin, Ella Mae Shirley, Maxine Bis-
sett, Mary Lou Dawkins, La Verne Harris,
Dortha Hennessee.
Typists—Jerry Miller, Elizabeth Taylor,
Lillian Swinson, Elva Gresham, Doris
Concha.
BUSINESS STAFF
Margaret Moore Business Manager
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Christine and Adene Mitchem
Co-Circulation Managers
Members of Business Staff—Edith Camp,
Anne Boykin, Rebecca Yelverton.
Entered as second-class matter October 11, 1923,
at postoffice at Raleigh, N. C., under Act of March
3, 1879. Published Semi-monthly during the months
of October, November. February, March, April and
May: monthly during the months of September,
December and January.
Subscription rate, S2.00 per year to students.
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Member of
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Thotiffht tor the day
“How happy are those who early take
their true measure, who choose wisely
their vocations and make careful and
sufficient preparation for them, who
recognize their opportunities, improve
them and chart a true course. . . . This
is the mountain range of humanity from
which arise the peaks that are seen
across the ages.”
H. C. Watters.
Point System Changes
Printed in this issue of The Twig
are the changes in the Point Sys
tem passed by the committee. They
have been carefully worked out, and
each student is asked to read them
with consideration. Some of us are
prone to think that we get little op
portunity to voice our opinions in
campus affairs. This committee, how
ever, has been open to suggestions, and
if there were few suggestions, it was
because there was a lack of interest on
the part of girls who were not members
of the committee. Uusually those of us
who declare that the state of campus
affairs is determined by just a small
group are those who sit back without
any effort at interest or cooperation. So,
it appears to be our own fault. Don’t just
take a list of rules, a list of changes.
Study them carefully, decide if they are
worthwhile, and then do something. If
you like them, abide by them. If you
don’t, start an active campaign to change
them. But don’t let the campaign con
sist of back-handed remarks.
A Spade Will Worh if .. .
Ever since the first Friday when the
chapel seats were assigned, there has
been a general complaint about the new
plan. The whole student body has re
ferred sarcastically to the so-called hon
or system just installed. It was a drastic
step, this business of assigning seats to
assure that there would be an audience
at the chapel programs. But, in spite of
all of our complaints, we must admit
that we brought the gale upon our
selves We did have an honor system.
Many of us said, “It just won’t work.”
In a recent issue of Reader’s Digest,
an authority was asked if the UN would
work—He replied with another ques
tion, “Will a spade work?” This honor
system would work if there were only
enough girls who believed that they
could make it work. A spade will work
if someone makes it; an honor system
will work if someone makes it. Perhaps
it is too late to return to chapel attend
ance guided by a free conscience. But
we still have a chance to prove whether
we can make our honor system work or
not.
Guest Editorial
Recently the Meredith College facul
ty and students were asked to fill out a
questionnaire concerning Religious Em
phasis Week in order that we might get
a clear view of what the week meant to
us as individuals and as a whole com
munity. One of the most significant and
revealing questions asked concerned the
students’ evaluation of the week. Look
ing back over the inspiration and guid
ance received during that week and real
izing improvements that had come into
our spiritual lives because of that in
spiration, many of us found that the
week was of priceless value, and as best
we could, we wrote down our feelings
concerning it. I wonder if now we have
already begun to lose sight of those val
ues and ideals that seemed so clearly
established only six weeks ago.
I should like to recall a few of the
evaluations that were placed upon Re
ligious Emphasis Week. Many of the
ones I shall mention seem to me charac
teristic of the feelings of a good num
ber of people rather than of one only.
“I discovered that I needed religion.”
Herein realized a need common to ev
ery individual, and even though some of
us might have realized the need before,
there is not one of us who has reached
the summit of its fulfillment. Unremit
tingly, every hill we climb reveals a
higher hill beyond. Great Christians like
Dr. Cranford can show us a hill in the
distance and the need for climbing it,
but we alone can climb that hill.
“I realized that Christianity should
influence all phases of life.”' Should this
belief be daily renewed and hourly act
ed upon by the students of Meredith
College, the Christian spirit and the
Gospel of Jesus Christ would spread
farther and faster than any of us can
possibly conceive. Such an ideal is as
possible as the development of radar or
atomic energy, but it can only be real
ized by action coming from deep con
victions of consecrated Christians.
“It showed me the beauty of an ugly
world.” That beauty we have realized
should not leave us with the passing
of Emphasis Week. In reality the ugli
ness is not the world’s in a sense. The
world is a rnagnificent and beautiful cre
ation of Divine Hands that has been
smeared by the selfish and inadequate
judgment of man’s free will. But though
man has failed again and again in many
of his struggles, there has always been a
beauty born of God within his soul to
combat the failings. If we can keep our
eyes steadfastly upon that beauty we
can remove the blots that sometimes so
overshadow the portrait of life that we
become embittered at its ugliness.
“I realize my responsbility to others
as well as myself.” One of the chief
causes of the dissension and turmoil of
our world today is selfishness. I seek
happiness for myself, not realizing that
happiness will die if it is not given
away, for it is through making someone
else happy that we can find it for our
selves. I seek comfort for myself, not
realizing that the greatest comfort comes
in bringing comfort to someone else,
comfort of body or comfort of spirit. I
seek eternal life for myself, not realiz
ing that my life is of little value unless
there is something in it that will shine
brightly enough to illuminate the life of
somone else.
No one can climb my hill, no one can
perpetuate my spiritual growth, no one
can give me away . . . but me.
Frances Alexander.
Sal44>tUt(^ a Jleadlen^
By I.A VERNE HARRIS
Essay on Man
Man is what woman marries.
Men have two feet, two hands, and
sometimes two wives, but never more
than one collar button or one idea at
a time. Like Turkish cigarettes, men are
all made of the same material, the only
difference being some are disguised bet
ter than others. Generally speaking,
they may be divided into three classes—
bachelors, husbands, and widowers. An
eligible bachelor is a man of obstinacy
surrounded by suspicion. Husbands are
of three varieties — prize, surprise, and
consolation prize. Making a husband out
of a man is one of the highest plastic
arts known to civilization. It requires
science, sculpture, and common sense;
faith, hope, and charity . . . mostly
charity. It is a psychological marvel that
a soft, fluffy, tender, violet-scented thing
like a woman can enjoy kissing a big,
awkward, stubbly-chinned, tobacco and
bay-rum scented thing like a man.
If you flatter a man, it frightens him
to death, and if you don’t, you bore him
to death. If you permit him to make love
to you, he gets tired of you in the end,
and if you don’t, he gets tired of you in
Wifie; “Darling, I saw the sweetest,
cleverest hat downtown today.”
Knowing Hubby: “Put it on; let’s see
how you look in it.”—Ex.
the beginning. (What’s a girl to do? The
question is “to be or not to be!”)
If you wear gay colors, rouge, and
startling hats, he hesitates to take you
out. If you wear a small brown toque
and a tailor-made suit, he takes you out
and stares all night at a woman in gay
colors and rouge and a startling hat.
If you are the clinging vine type, he
doubts whether you have a mind. If you
are the modern type, an advanced and
independent woman, he doubts whether
you have a heart. If you are surly, he
longs for a playmate. If you are popular
with other men, he is jealous, and if
you’re not, he hesitates to marry a wall
flower. If you please him, he seldom
mentions it, but if you displease him,
he never fails to tell you about it—es
pecially if you’re his wife.
But they are mighty handy to have
around the house! “Ain’t that just like
a man?” Anonymous.
“Sorry I’m late, but I was seeing Dr.
Campbell about having longer Thanks
giving holidays!” That’s our Fran!
Bursting into the room and bubbling
over with plans of all descriptions, she
was suddenly listening to a new idea
about the Junior-Senior, of which she is
chairman, being interviewed, and giv
ing away dream pictures of “certain
fellas” to her friends—all at one time,
yet doing it all with enthusiasm. “I’ve
always been too independent,” she con
fessed “wanting to do everything for
myself, and then getting all involved.
It makes Ken so unhappy!” And who is
Ken? The grand Annapolis guy that
she’s going to marry in two years and
two months, or “the day after he grad
uates.”
When Fran finishes school, she wants
to become a researcher in the field of
political science in the Library of Con
gress. She has worked there for the past
three summers and is majoring in his
tory as preparation for her work. It
will be an important job, but then Fran
is used to important jobs. She is now
secretary of the Student Government
and State vice president of the B.S.U.
In the past she has held such offices as
Freshman Class President and Second
Vice President of the B.S.U. Her versa
tility extends on into the field of sports;
for during this season, she carried away
the championship title in the single bad
minton tournament.
Admitting her worse trait, Fran (or
F. B.), recognizes the ability to keep
money. On a recent trip to Charlotte,
where she spoke in a colored university
on “Women in Government,” she was
dismayed to discover that out of her re
maining $3.50, $3.49 of it must go for a
bus ticket home—not even a nickel left
for bus fare when she got here!
As president of the S. G. next year,
Fran hopes that there will be a greater
representation of all different groups
and opinions throughout the student
body; and with one of her irresistible
laughs she added, “In reply to Long
John, the S. G. will see to it that we
have debating teams!”
Fair and Warmer
I had come back but I was very bored
with being back. I had come back but
no one else had come back. I did not
really mind being back but I did mind
being back alone.
O they looked here. They looked very
much here. They were being physio
logically sincere. But they were every
one of them showing an obvious
amount of moral duplicity. And they
didn’t seem to care. Furthermore, they
talked about it in indecorous little whis-
per-patterings. They wrote about it on
the fronts of their notebooks and in the
margins of their texts. They pencil-
pointed it on their desks. They carved it
in the sand with sticks. They looked it
in their eyes and answered it in class.
They got to be abnormal. But you
would have thought it normal for them
to be that way because all of them were.
Abnormal people complicate things. I
find the normal reasonably complicated
and interesting enough.
As I said, I did not really mind bieng
back and being back, I wanted to keep
not minding being back until I got
somewhere else. But these far-away
people. What was I to do with them.
Why were they that way. Something
had to make them that way. All winter
long every little girl’s attitude had been
dull but present and then all of a sudden
every little girl’s attitude became sharp
but absent and there is no class that
has taught anybody anything about how
to be that way. They just are.
I thought. I thought. I thought a great
deal about the why of it all. After I
thought, I knew. It was only logical
Spring. Spring caused it all. Fair and
warmer spring. Naturally. The crocuses
and the hyacinths insist. The court, love-
w f/iough before, is now our own Sun
Valley. Best we don’t go rhapsodic, but
merely continue to observe those that
have been victims of the fever. Shall we
launch now, exigencies of space impor
tunately nudging, into a discussion of
this particular emotion that spring
seems to have aroused?
A great number of students, having
found the other part of nature’s primi
tive division necessary, are now pres
sure-grouped into the legal class To-
gether are Madge (Futch) and “Wee
nie Norwood. Jerry (Burgess) and Bill
Mangum, Dot (Massey) and “Doc” An-
kers Ruth (Greene) and John Walton.
Ihose who have acquired, since the
fair and warmer weather began, a visi
ble means of support sparkling on third-
fingers, left-hands number int othe
multi s, the latest being; “Goat” Hol-
“R?d”^T? Jean Parker and
Rad, Marcelene Simmons and James
Margaret Wilson and Bill, Glendon
Burchard and “Herby.” «nuon
to^i® g'^eater majority of students seem
to be suffering from the sensation of
eJy who is not
tor off. The fleeting blush, the every-
fifteen-minutes trip to the doughnut
s op, long walks, pale smiles, poetry
white hyacinths, and “Clair de^Lun^’’’
nnf them. I shall
them^°Th!f know
them They are behind you in front of
you beside you, and maybe you They
are the ones who are the most not here
A1? overlook the R.W As
All ready, willing and ables. They are
here but are never on the campus Thev
know the Greeks, the Manmur^boys the
Soda Shop crowd, and they havj been
in Stoney’s once too. They are mosUv
Freshmen and immature Sophomores
hey wear reds and yellows and purples
and oranges-all at once. They have
judged every State, Wake Forest, Dook
and Carolina man in the young moon-
ight and the one they have chosen for
their^s IS yours. There is no cure for them
but I sincerely beieve that one of these
days they will meet their equal a
staunch member of Sigma Epsilon Chi
Perhaps my sympathies are imper
fect and my experience inadequate but
I ask you. Am I these brothers’ keeper?
—Bradley.
A little boy was carrying home somp
store and dropped them.
Did you break any?” asked bi«
mother when he told her of it ^
“No,” said toe little fellow, “but the
shells came off some of them.” Ex
* * *
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