North Carolina Newspapers

Page Two HIGH LIFE Fehntary 2,7, 1931 HIGH LIFE PubliaheU Weekly, Except Holidays, by the Students of the Greensboro High School, Greensboro, N. C. Founded by the Class of ’21 Chaetkb Meubeb Entered as Second-Class Matter at the Post Office, Greensboro, N. C. STAFF Editor-in-Chicf Olivia Branch Editor Goldie Goss lluniin’n^ Mauuncr Wyatt McNalry A/mintant Ihi^iiunn Mdiidi/rr - . , James Doubles SI’ECIAI, EDITORS Sports Editor - Ernest White Tupinu Editor --- Ballard May i4rt Editors Lynwood Burnette, David Morrah Feature Editor Grace Hobbs Exchange Editor Frances Kernodle ASSISTANT EDITORS Frank Abernathy OUs Phillips Madeline Wilhelm Henry Bagley TYPISTS Mary Butler Lee Vanstory Katherine Davis REPORTERS Pilmore Wilson Cynthia Pipkin EloHiior Watson Marguerite Lc Fort Edith Latham Joyce Heritage Ruby Blalock jnek Brown FACULTY ADVISERS Mrs. Alma G. Coltrane Mr. Byron A. Haworth Miss Katherine Pike (CharteTr jMcmber) MVe Make Our Lives Sublime “The heiglits l)y great men reached and kept, Are not attained by sudden flight, But they, while their eomj)anions slept, Were toiling upward in the night.” Dr. Tlimima Iliimc, professor of English at the University of Nortli Ciirolino was probably one of the inQ.st outstanding figures in the literary held of North (-arolina. Dr. Hume was horn at Portsrauoth, Virginia, Octolier 21, 1836, • He at1encl(!d Virginia Collegiate Institute at Portsmouth and later studied at Richmond College from which he graduated at the age oL nineteen. Later he went to the University of Virginia. Whil^ there he organized the first Y, RI, C. A. in the world. He wrote its constitu tion. He was made official pa.stor of the Confederate Ilo.spital at Peters- hurg and pastor of the Baptist church in Norfolk. He traveled extensively ahroucl and became acquainted witli many countries oilier tlian America. In 1885 Dr. Hume came to North Carolina, and it is for his many eontrihution.s to tlic I'niversity and to tlio state itself that he is renown, During all his stay at the University he was always unselfish, and cheerful even in tlie most trying times. He was a friend to all who knew him, Let us not think that Dr. Hume’s success came to him on a bed of roses. He exiierienccd trying hours but never lost his grip on himself and (he world. So may we pattern our lives after that of Dr. Hume- have him for our hero. ‘‘Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime. And, departing, leave behind us Footsteps on the sands of time.” Have You Any Symptoms Spring, the season of roliins, flowers, and spring fever, will soon be here. The birds and flowers are welcome enough. How about the sjning fever? bpriiig fever affi'cts diiforent people in different ways. Some become poctie, otlicrs .joyful, and still otliers loose every ounce of energy they ever had. This last symptom is, especially noticeable among high school students, l-iv'ery year about the last of March, the formerly energetic students lieeome limp, like a wet towel in the locker room. They walk with a heavy, listless gait. Work,—well, usually they just don’t. Of course, all students are not victims of the dread malady. Some liave enough eiK'rgy to combat it. Others simply refuse to get it. Yes, it i.s po.ssible (0 do that. However, any student will tell you that It takes will iiower. Work is hard when you would rather play. Nevertlieless, every spring there are some students who manage to stay awake and kcoj) up (heir average. Just rememher tliat you can do it, too! An Embarrassing Situation Tliere is nothing more deaciing tlum monotony. Aiiytliing re- jiealed heeomes le.ss interesting. This year a most embarrassing situa tion lia.s confronted onr librarians. We have a well-equipped lihr to serve tlie students who use it oaeli day. Two trained librarians are on hand, .supposedly to help students obtain material not obviously ai'cessible. As a matter of fact, tliey arc forced to spend nhoiit forty-five miiintes of the sixty playing polieeinou. It must be very monotonous to tlie students to constantly liear “be quiet,” “please do not leave with out pi'i'inission,” “put your hooks back.” and otluT admonitions wliieli, given once, slnmld be remembered. If each student will take stock of liimscir and lie careful in the future we can rcmeily the situation. The library can once more become a place of eoneentrateil thoiiglit, literar\ recreation, and a source of valuable information aided by willing and iiu-ideiitally more i>tea.sant lilirarians. Do you not consider it worth trying? Opportunity Knocks At Your Door A eenluVy ago, an eduention was mueh more highly priced tlian it is today. -Tlien, knowledge was liard to get. Only a jirivileged few wtM-e able to go through a college or university. A.s a result, every oiiliorliinity then olTered by education was taken advantage of. Mmlern students, however, are apt to take the excellent eilueation' otTered to mairly every boy and girl a.s a mat(e^ of course. They do not appreibate its value. Higli seliool and college students often spend far more time and energy having a good time than tliey do in gaining knowledge, This attitude has a very tlestruetive etVect on the eharaeters of the students, as opportunities for eharaeter improvement are ignored in the chase afler pleasure. This unfortunate situation is prevalent in Amerii'an schools toiiay, and only the efforts of the students themselves can remedy it. No matter how expensively an ediieation is lavished upon our heads, it is nothing if we liave not the character to absorb it and profit by it. You are ligteninK, ladies and gentle men, to station GIIS operating on a frequency of two hundred and fifty motorcycles. We have just finished half an hour of singing by Ed Note. We have a telegram from Ernest White, saying, “Program coming in fine. Am enjoying it as well as any I have ever listened to.” Here’s one from Pete Jones, “Will you please stop that singing, and go play mumble peg?” We gather from this that Mr. Jones’ coffee w cold this morning when he came down breakfast. We have several more telegrams from certain people, but, as we have just a little time to finish up our program, we’ll continue the entertainment im mediately if not sooner. “All right, Ed. Let’s go.” “Wait a minute. Here’s that sports editor. Hello, Ernest.”’ “Hello. Wliere’s my fifty contst” “Slihh. Everybody’s listening, mike’s on. Koop quiet.” “Don’t shush me. I want that 50 cents you said you’d give me if I’d send that telegram.” “Er, ha-ha. ladies and gentlemen of our radio audience, he means er—ah, that is, ho sent a telegram for me the other night, and I haven’t as yet re imbursed him ” ’Reimbursed, nothing. If you do, I’ll get my big brother. I want my money.” Dh, oh. Here it is. Now take it and out. You’ll have the people think ing that I paid you to send that tiegrum to this station.” “Hell, heh. Goo'bye.” “It seoms, ladies and getlemen, that Ed had n little argument with the sports department. Here he is now.” ‘What do you say, Ed? Feel like a little poetry?” “Nope. Like a big idiot.” “No, no. You don’t understand. J mean, do you feel like reciting some poetry for your audience?” “I’d mueli rather sing.” “Er, you are a very good whistler, ni sure the people would be delighted to hoar you.” Oh, all rigid. Have you any sug gestions?” might whistle, ‘In the Evening By the Moonlight’.” ‘Well, you know there’.s a time and place for everything. Why not wait?” vill now interrupt the program for station announcements. You may turn your dial hack to our station. Ed Not? won’t be back for a few minutes. just sent him over to Holland’s fora box of radio frequency.” The local weather forecast for yester day: “Fair and warmer today, with gentle showers in the evening. Temper ature: High 48, Low 40.” We are sorry, but today’s forecast has not been sent in yet. We will now give you the correct time. When you hear the gong strike three it will he exactly twelve fifty-five by the wonder watch. “Bing, bing, bing.” "Twelve fifty-five by the Wonder Watch lime.” “Well, Ed’s back again. He says his time is getting short now, and he wants to tell you a bedtime story.” “Hello everybody. What story would you like to hear? Nobody says nny- (hing, BO we’ll tell yc^u tlio one about the Throe Billy Goats Ruff.” “Once upon a tinse there wore three little billy goats. The smallest of the three was called Big Billy Goat Ruff be- causo that was his name. The largest WHS called Middlc-sir.ed Billygoat Ruff (an old Bpaiiish custom). The middle- sized one was culled Little Billygoat Ruff liecause ho was very fond of fig preserves with ice cicam. All four wcr*‘ callhd billygonta when they didn’t get into the Ucighbor’s garden. They were called various things they did, however. was a green field nearby the Billygonta Ruff were very anxious to go there. They were Irisli goats, (1 naturally fond of green. The only ing that kept them away from this field was a very had old Iroll who lived uider a bridge whieh they had to cro? in the way to this [ironiised land. “They ju.st thought about the field ur il they couldn’t stand it any longo: o they decided to go there no matter wliat hapiiened, so they started off. When (hey came to the liridge tin troll came out and called in a gruff 'Who has lieen eating iny soup? .iltle Billygoat Ruff reiilied ii strains, “Not 1. Mr, Troll.” Witli that, he went on across the liridgi -ittle Billygoat Ruff started Who’s been sitting in my chair? .’ came the rejily, and Little Billygoat Ruff went on across the liridge. Tlien Middle-slr.ed Billygoat Ruff started “Wtio’a in my lien- he troll. “Ain’t nobody chickens. Mr, Troll,” he replied, disguising his voice. “I could have I heard someliody.” said the troll went linck under the bridge. Mid dle-sized Billygoat Ruff crossed the I'ridge and joined his brothers on the ler side. The three goats went over the green field and admirel it to ■ir hearts’ content. ‘That was EH Note telling you the bedtime story, ladies and gentlemen of radio nudlenrr, and If it is not your bedtime yet, you are just out of luck, herause 'Shakespeare never repeat,'s and Today and the New T omorrow THE TORCH BEARER /}// Al.FBEt) NOVES 'J'liis is the second volume of the poet’s great triology, The Toirh lie, whlfli tells of the mighty pioneer sdeiioe who cauglit the fire of learning, one from the other, bearing it (low through tile ages. The first volume, M'alelurs of the tilcy, dealt with the astronomers. This second volume. The Iloolc of Earth, Is a hymn of evolution sung in splendid narrative verse. Here .Alfred Noyes lirings tiis gaze dowi from the stars, wiiieli was his earlie llieiiK*, to the earth wlierc lie. reads the riddle of the universe. With this epic poem .Mfred .Noyes has joined 7'he Torrit lfeurer-i. It re mained for him to effect a unity of the worlds of science and poetry and ctirry on the tnirt* fire of human thought expressed in new terms. JINGLING IN THE WIND Hii Kr.izAitETii -Madox Roiiebts Miss Roberts has pntised to look at the world in a moment of amused de- faclmient. Her book, JinoHiig in the Wind should not be regarded as a novel at all. It is a gay, mocking farce, turned off as a diversion from a more exacting work, but ilie wisdom and liumanity of rtie aiirhor's i:iind g if true meaning. be story concerns .leremy, journeys to (lie Itaiii Mideers' Conven tion, wins the ebampion-sliip and be- ■oiues a liero. But tliere is a lady, 'uliji MeOfee, who looks upon him •oldly. Interwoven with this romance is ahuiidam satire, on modern Amec n life. The title is from Chaucer, and in tli lKM>k Is a modern canterbury ))il- grimnge. le enciiantiiient of .Miss Rober style is efl'ective. There is added gaiety and a free ranging fancy that will give a pleasant surprise to he former readers and iirove a delight 10 JANE FR.VNKLIN. SILVER CLOTHES Hu Angela Mokgan surer Clothes, by Angela Morgan presents a ratlier new tyiie in pot'try. Tile same old thoiighfs that have been told and ivtold for centuries are found in this book liut Angola Morgan has ■-xpre.ssed these ideas iii a different vay. She 1ms painted a new picture— iiie with (ouches of vividness, a bit of gaiety, and here, a soft, tender finish. -Vngela Morgan's Silver Clothes is a lovely book. Her thoughts on mother are particularly creditable. THE BAT By Makv Roberts Rhinehart The Eat, that sinister, eerie, story of hist sesison, is considered the best of Mary Roberts Rhineharfs mystery stories. Its plot is iiniiiue in plan and fan tastic in its appeal. 'The contrasting elements rimning through it press the main train of thought to (lie front iind form of tingling, eager background for the real iilot. The characterization is taken up with the suave, calm detective, Ander son, and Miss Cuniella, at whose borne (he action takes place. The setting of the story is at the country home of Rickard Ficiniiig, president of the local hank, II Is just the scene for sucli an uncanny occur- renc‘ to take place. The comedy of the story is supplied by Lizzie, Miss Cornelia's main and the gardner. No liint or inkling of an idea a tlie iclentlty of tlic bat is given in (be wliole book. The climax is readied at the very finish wlieu it Is revealed that .Vndersun, supposedly the detective in ti'utli. "The Ruf and the real de tective makes known Id's identity. o teachers: As day slips by, Taking the sunlight with her. And eight descends in darkness, My mind sips out of boredom And dances with the children of the moon. But last night was very dark, And the elouds were so very thick 1 could not see the moon. O Teachers! Be not (juite so hard Or quite so strict today. My mind is tired of searching Through the elouds To find the moon! Susaniie Ketchum. 0 pupil: O pupil, seek not the moon You could not find it last night When it was so very dark And the clouds so very thick They wove a web of silence in your It is always there—with moonlight Tossed—windswept—a silver butter fly in dark cocoon I shall not be quite so bard 0/ quite sc strict today— Dream a littc—hope a little That the stars may sliiue tonight. O pupil, judge not me so hard today I. too, have sought in vain— for moon. Grace Hobbs. Hear Ye! Dear Editor: ^ ser... to recall that Eugene Street presented to Greensboro high a moving picture machine. R was announced that would probably have a movie m the auditorium every Wednesday or so, but to date I don’t recall seeing more than three productions since the day it was presented to us by Mr. Street, Now Editor, I’m not really worrying, but my curiosity has been stirred as to where the machine is and why we don t see anv more pictures. Interested, Ford Thomas. Dear Editor: Have you ever had to walk through the mud on your way to chapel If you have, you uo doubt wished that something might be done about the crowded walks on rainy days. On Mon day mornings, the various groups of students march to chapel in double filc- Ofteu there are four separate lines. This forces some of the students to walk in the mud. Why uot have the stu dents walk single file during the bad ' reather. I don’t know how this could le arranged if the students must, con tinue to fill up rows of seats two at a time wlyen entering the auditorium. This is a problem which some thought ful student should he able to solve. A STUDENT. REMINISCING 1 the dusk of day, as 1 lay down by a tree to rc ly gaze wanden That was Away -fro fastened high up ii n man, away from t Green Pastures—Marc Connelly If you want to spend an enjoyable evening; if you want to road the play New Yorkers spent big money to see, get a copy of “Green Pastures,” by Marc Connelly. It is written in play form, but is as interesting reading any novel. The play opens in the corner of negro church, where the old preacher teaching the children their Sunday school lesson, The second scene is tt|0 story that the old negro tells the ehildron about the mtion of man. Tb© rest of the book a continuation of tho lesson, telling turn some of tho different stories of the Old Testament. However, the old preaeher by no means keeps to what ho has read in tho Bible, but he includes his open opinions as to what heaven is like and why God ereated man. To the old preaeher, heaven was a place where angels had fish-frys and here God offers them ten-eeiit cigars. "Green Pastures’’ is not saeroligious, it might seem at first, but it is an attempt of the ignorant old negro preaeher to lower those things he could understand to the level of his own iatelligenee. Ed says he is not going to spoil a per fectly good record just for a few people who don’t know when it’s time to go to bed.” “This is station CHS operating on a frequency of two hundred and fifty motorcycles, now signing off., Good- ght, everybody.’" 1 The tree was a century more or less And bad harfiored many a birdie’s nest And sheltered many a traveler weary, Had sheltered them from the storm in its fury, As I lay, almost too exhausted to move I heard tho murmuring of a love-d^ve And then, tho mate came and they flew away Seems like tli6 beautiful things' of life never stay. The tall tree seemed to be murmuring Who seemed to bo murmuring in return And tho story I beard, the story they told I a legend, a story, that was told of old. Each day, in the dusk, two lovers they met, And under these branches tliey sat. And they told of love as it came to them, With the lull of the trees, it was almost i hymn. They were young, romantic, with the love of youth And tho bloom in their cheeks told the truth. And they talked of the beautiful days of yore The days that had gone and would come no more. Then they left—tlie'tree and their loved ones behind. They were old; health had gone; God was l^ind. Then came their children in their stead To carry on the love of their beloved dead. Generation after generation came to ait ’neath the tree To whisper their love secrets, to let passion go free. -Yiid now, the lost of the race has gone Save me, and I must carry it on. —M. E. Haynes. Dear Editor: The time is now suited for the boys to play on the handball courts at lunch time. These,courts have beeu built for this reason, and yet, for the past three semesters they have not been put to ’r have heard several boys remark about this and we have all wondered why this place is left to rot rather than U8ed_ for the good of the boys. Handball a good game for all the boys who £ interested in any kind of athletics, think that something should be done to give the boys the freedom of these u used courts. L- A, Hartsook. Dear Kditer: 1 noticed last week an article stating that the lack of co-operation was main reason for the failure to obtain suHicient funds to carry on High Life. Now, may I give you a suggestion? Girls and lioys-of high school age love pleasure but have a horror of work. If we could mix pleasure with business, I think, in this case, it would succeed. At the present time, nothing is being done to help matters. If the High Life staff had entertainments as: benefit dances, or bridge parties, all students, or the majority, would patronize these and the proceeds could go to the help of rebuilding the steps that have been broken in the ladder that High Life and Homespun have used iij climbing to their goal. A READER. WHAT CONSTITUTES A SCHOOL Not ancient halls and ivy-inantled towers, Where dull traditions rule with heavy hand youth’s lightly springing powers; 1 Not spacious pleasure courts, and lofty temples of athletic fame, Where devotees of sport mistake a pas time for life's highest aim; Not fashion, nor renown of wealthy patronage and rich estate; No, none of these can crown a siihool with light and make it truly great- But masters, strong and wise, who teach because they love the teacher’s task. And find their richest prize iu eyes that open and minds that ask; And boys with hearts aglow to try their vigor iu their work, Eager to learn and grow, and quick to hate a coward or a shirk; These constitute a seliool, a vital forge of weapons keen and bright. Whore living sword and tool are tem pered for true toil and noble fight: Rut let 110 wisdom scorn the hours of pleasure in the playing fields. There also strength is born, and every manly game a virtue yields, Fairness and self-control, good humor, pluck and patience in the race Will make a bad heart whole to win the honor, lose without disgrace. Ah. well for him who gains in such a school apprenticeship for life; With bim the "joy of youth remains in later lessons and a larger strifel —Henry Van Dyke. Dear Editor: Something must be done about the way the students are breaking the panes out of the hall doors. Replacement cost may not be much but is is wholly unnecessary for students to hurt them- selevs against the doors like football taeklers in an effort to be the Irst i to the lunch room. We are supposed to be civilized but the way some students go after thir lunches is equaled only by dogs and pigs. The food supply will not run out nor the soup get cold, so why rush? Unless the students take heed, teachers should stand in the halls to prevent the loss of lunch and limb by those who prefer the old-fashioned method of tr-ansportation, walking, A STUDENT. HIGH .SCHOOL BOY RESCUES BROTHER—Hear ye! Ye honorable A. C. Holt looked all over the buildings for Cliiry last week and had just about given up hopes of fliidlug him \Wien he passed the library and heard some ratlier vigorous pounding being done the door, and there stood said gentle man, on the wrong. side of tlie door, of course, and securely locked in. A. C. says that the janitor released the cap tive in time .to give him a ”i)eak” at lloinesinin meeting, What, we wonder Is why Clary didn’t tell us about it. Ila! Hal THINGS GET CONFUSED As I stood on the battlefield of Get tysburg, I wondered why the price of suspenders had so suddenly soared heavenward. But when 1 realized that they were made of elastic, and that rubber does not grow in this country, I had my answer. My thoughts now turned elsewhere after solving that weighty problem. I remembeied how bravely General Pershing fought, forc ing his troops forward, on the very spot where I was standing, “How glo rious it must be to float like a little yellow butterfly on the breeze,” I ex claimed. “But if I had gone with Dick Douglas to Africa, my yellow wings -.-ould have been lying in the cold snow ow. And I would have died so young, Alas! The trees are budding, but why should I care? It will soon be Christ mas. My dreams are always of that glorious being, Liiidy. Ever since he flew Hie Pacific in that cute little thing- i-a-bob some people call an airplane, 1 have known the meaning of hero- worship. How mosquities can make a body wild! There goes a linie rascal In eonelusion I wish to state that un til “Believe It or Not” told me, I did not know automobiles are called by a majority of the populace, “autos.” Well, toodle-ooo, see you in the funny papers,' George Washington said. Youiina, this business of “ bad times” getting on the cerelrums of cranums of most of the folk. Why, I saw this ad the other day put in the paper by a one-legged man with a glass eye: FOE SALE: Cheap 1!129 Ford by a man . good running condition. And this advertisement so folks would not be restranagaiit, Salt is what makes potatoes taste so bad if there is none 1 them. Youniia, our famous editor like to have been drowned last summer in a big pond whieh they call a lake, but the life saver told her, I think, that she would have to attempt suicide another day because he was after a life-saving medal. “Case of drowning,” he said, “what should be done?”—Nothing less than a feuneral. Here’s some advice to the seniors on how they might use those “Dips” they’re planning to get along ’bout June: For all progressive typists: Use for a backing sheet. Artists: Get Miss Lee to show you how to make a lampshade. A real col legiate one, out of it. Faniacs: Cut is up in geometrical slices under the auspices of Miss Grogan or Miss Walker. It will make a beauti ful puzzle for the kiddies. Study hall dudes; Crease it doffn the middle, fold each front corner over the center and then a second time, then double it togetlier, fold back each wing. Ah! Ha! A glider. , Travelers: (Hopeful ones) Get some' of your guides to autograph it for you. Musicians: Write the words for ,‘Cheerful little Earful” and what not on the bank, drop it on the floor where some one can find it. Or jist plain frame the thing! Somebody i_s raising a crop of hair on a rather slick head (noticed it!). He wants to know what color it’ll be! Gray by the way it’s growing now! And then there was the guy who wanted to know the chief causes of divorce! Marriages! Or tho guy who fed the cow peanuts when he wanted peanut butter. Do you know what happened to Ophelia before she drowned? She came up three times! The Scotchman is an example of rigid economy (when he’s dead). Lombard wanted to hear about a Scotchman who left fifteen cents on the counter. He never will! Why folks work: We go to work to earn the dough to buy the bread to gain the strength to earn the dough. Dough, raj-, foh-—aw shucks! Here’s what they think of my column (maybe). Fruit Dealer; “Peachy.” Fisherman: “Whale of a'col.” Printer: “Just the type I like.” Dentist: “It’s a wow,” Animal Trainer: “Howling good en tertainment.” School Bus Conductor: “Fair." Mechanic: (Ford) A rattling good presentation. » The sophs stand on their head when their back’s up side down so they say. Then he found it was a I>atin book. ANCESTORS The father gazed with prideful look And said to his wife as her hand he took, “He is the first son of the man who knew, The wife of the son of Sir Arnold Drew.” When but a child at a noble school As he racked his brains for a well-known rule, as known as the son of the man who knew The Kite of the son of* Sir Arnold At college the principal clasped his hand And said, “Here stands a famous man. For he is tho son of the man who knew The wfe of the son of Sir Arnold At twenty-seven he took a bride. Her mother gazed ‘round with looks of pride. She had wed the son of the man who knew The wife of the son of Sir Arnold Drew. When in the middle of a bitter strife Angry he grew and murdered his wife. Oh, shame on tho son of the man who knew The wife of the son of Sir Arnold Drew. When in the court as he was tried His mother pleaded as she cried, ■‘Oh, judge, he’s the son of the man who knew The wife of the son of Sir Arnold Drew.” But her tears and pleads availed him not, And condemned to a prison there to >t. That guilty son of tho man who knew The wife of the son of Sir Arnold Drew. A cold he caught and later died His bones below these words abide; Here lies the son of the man who knew The wife of the son of Sir Arnold Drew. —Vivian Bast.