May 6, 1949
THE TWIG
Page five
WELTONSCHAUUNG
By Beverly Batchelor
Bill gazed at the slovenly
yard ahead of him with the bit
terness of cynical old age.
“Two years of this,” he mut
tered. “Dr. Bill Roberts! Ha!”
He closed his eyes quickly,
forcing back tears of indig
nation.
“Where does it get you—eat
ing day after day at a place like
this, living like a peasant.
What’s an M.D. anyway? I
make big money working in the
tobacco business, banking, any
thing — I — oh, what’s the
use?”
He climbed slowly up the
steps and across the porch. Fin
gerprints edged against the
dingy white of the poor paneling
told their tale, and the limp cur
tains pulled across the windows
were the weakest kind of camou
flage. Inside Bill hesitated. The
tart odor of vinegar twitched
his nose.
“What’s the trouble. Bill?
Getting too good for us?”
“Huh? Oh, of course not, Ma.
I was just ■— thinking.”
As he scratched his name in
the credit book for meals, Ma
Ramsey watched him sharply,
pushing the tarnished silver rim
of her glasses back to the hump
on her precipice-like nose.
“Humph! Look like you think
you smell something,” she
wheezed. “You high-falutin
med students! Last ones to pay
up.”
Ma Ramsey, twenty-year mis
tress of a boarding house for
Winston students and others
who are apt to be financially
lacking, moved heavily in the
chair where she was guarding
the meal-entry book. Her greasy
apron and torn, flowered dress
spoke a common language with
the fingerprints, but the story
they told was no longer impor
tant to Ma Ramsey.
Bill closed the book and
looked up.
“Who’s this Glen Williams?
Don’t know him.”
“Another would-be doctor,”
the old lady snorted. “Don’t
know why I take ’em in. This
one looks like he han’t got a
dime on him.”
“Stupid Kid,” Bill thought,
“I’ll set him straight right away.
Nothing’s worth this kind of
life.”
He shoved the book into place
and strode through the hall to
the dining room.
The long, narrow table was
crowded as usual with boys and
men — coarse, muscular day
laborers; slender, youthful stu
dents; thoughtful, intelligent
men. Bill searched the faces till
he found one — young and
scared and sick.
Glen Williams, he thought
ruefully. It must be.
He wandered casually over to
an empty place beside the boy,
brushed a space clear of crumbs
for the plate and silver that he
had picked up from the cup
board, and sat down. Except for
a “Hi, Bill” and a “Well, if it
ain’t the Doc,” the dinner-time
conversation excluded him, and
he ate. Steadily, at first not
speaking to the boy. Then
“New med student?” he
asked.
Glen looked up from the food
that he had only pushed about
the broken crockery.
“Uh-huh.”
“No money?”
A blush crept up the lad’s
cheeks. “Well — I — ”
Bill laughed. “Don’t be em
barrassed. We’re all in the same
boat.”
They were silent for a few
minutes till Bill remarked, “At
mosphere of this place is kind
of sickening, isn’t it?”
“Oh, it’s O. K.”
“Then why don’t you eat?”
“I’ve just got to get used to it,
I guess.”
Bill turned to him sharply.
“Don’t kid yourself. You won’t
get used to this or the penny
pinching or the worn out shirts
or any of it.”
“What?” The boy was puz
zled.
’You heard me. You’ll begin
to crack up. Your grades’ll take
a slide, and you won’t be able
to do a thing about it. Take the
advice of an old med student. I
know, see, I know. You think
you’ll get used to it, but you
won’t. You can’t.” Bill’s voice
grew tense. “I saw your name
on Ma’s book — Glen Williams.
She said you were a med stu
dent, and I thought I had to tell
you. Then I saw you and I was
sure. You’ve got to get out of
this before it’s too late. Sure, I
know, you’ve got dreams of Dr.
Williams. Well, I had dreams,
too. ‘Dr Roberts,’ people will
say, I told myself. Now where
are those dreams? Lost in a haze
of fatigue and dirt and hunger.
Take my advice and leave this
M.D. business to somebody with
money and backing and time.”
“Just a minute,” Glen inter
rupted. “Just one minute.” He
was forceful in his indignation.
“Don’t you think I know what
I’m up against. Don’t you think I
understand about the fatigue
and the dirt and the hunger? Do
you think I care? No! Listen,
fellow, whoever you are, you’ve
got a nearsightedness that
glasses won’t cure. Go ahead,
live your life by the minute.
That’s O. K. but you’ve got to
remember the whole, too, and
this is where I can serve. I’m
sure of that. My pop was a doc
tor. I saw him pull little kids
through pneumonia, save old
ladies from dying of heart at
tacks. I heard him get up in the
middle of the night when he
hadn’t slept for days. I watched
him work for weeks in a small
pox epidemic and saw him die
from that service. He knew fa
tigue and dirt and hunger, but
he saw all that in the light of
something else — in the light of
an overall purpose for every
body. That’s the way I look at
these four years and the years
to come. That’s the only way to
look at it. And you talk about
quitting! I guess I’d better get
out of here before I make a dope
of myself.” He shoved back his
PHIS, ASTROS,
(Continued from page one)
Girl. Betty Moore is in charge of
staging, Virginia Jones and
Janet Roberts, lighting, Frankie
Ward, programs, Addie Elliott,
properties, and Marianna Mor
ris, make-up.
The Astro play is “The Bride
groom Waits” by Marjorie and
Joseph Hayes. In the cast are
Chris Williamson as Aunt Ag
nes; Micky Bowen as Kay Wat
kins; Betty Jean Hedgepeth as
Grace Winston; Gazelle Moore
as Aunt Henry; Shirley Powell
as Helen Addams; Betty Hefner
as Ruth Addams; Mary Hum
phrey as Mrs. Addams; and Mar
jorie Joyner as Lorraine Good
rich. The production chairmen
are Flo Moore, programs; Mary
Bland Josey, publicity; Mary
Humphrey, make-up; Virginia
Bowman, staging; Peggy Pat
rick, lighting; and Pauline Cone,
properties.
Two judges, sponsored by the
participants, will be invited to
the performance. Judge for the
Astros will be Bill Long, techni
cal director of the Raleigh Little
Theatre, and for the Phis, Mrs.
A. C. Hall.
^ean !JaAltion ^^een
COLLEGE TO
(Continued from page one)
the visitors’ pleasure. Peaview
Royal recently won honors at
the horse shown in Oxford,
N. C., with Meredith College
students up.
The climax of May Day will
be the crowning of the May
Queen and the plays that follow.
The perfect white dress for commencement week-end and for many
summer evenings later is this cool creation of lace over net with organdy
trimming. I’m sure you’ll fall in love with the full skirt and wide cap
sleeves as much as Betty Jean Hedgepeth did — you’ll also find it in
rose and blue at Jean’s..
“That’s right, and do any of
you fellows know where that
young man lives? He’s got some
doctoring to do!”
(
Patronize Your
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chair and stumbled hurriedly
out of the room.
Bill sat immobile for a few
moments struggling with the
ideas that had been flung at him
so violently.
“Maybe he’s got something
there,” he muttered “I just don’t
know.”
“Hey, Bill,” someone yelled
from the extremity of the table.
“What was the matter with him,
jumping up and running out like
that? Was he sick or some
thing?”
“Maybe so,” Bill mused. “Yes,
I guess that’s it.” Then he
grinned. “But I’ll tell you some
thing, boy. I sure hope it’s con
tagious.”
“Huh!”
ON STAGE IN PERSON
Saturday Only, May 14
Mat. 2:30 Eve 8:30
SYLVIA SIDNEY
JOHN LODER
in
tit
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