Page two
COLUMNS
November 25, 1943
COLUMN
VOLUMK HI
N'UMBKR 2
Published by Louihucro Coi-lbge STUDtnsTs eight
times during the collegiate year
STAFF
Composing
Editor-in-Chief (in absentia) Eatc.v Hoi.den
Acting editor-in-chief Mary EijzABfrrn Midyette
Associate editor Charlotte Usher
Managing editor Barbara Thorhon
Assistant managing editor Mariam Shearin
News editor MiiJ>Rrai Parks
Assistant nei/M editors
Marcki.ij: Kiko, IloBi'atT Wiixii'wu
Literary editor Edna Moye
Feature editors Vivian Ciu:ech. Arneta Joynek
Hxchange editor Ei.iZAi»nii Harris
Sports reporters Lucy L»;e Braxton, FRta) Davis
Religious reporter Maroahct Ann Hughes
Social reporter Virginia Ann Goi»ton
Assistant social reporter Tiixy Eakes
Bt:siNi'>(s
Business majiager Biu.y Lewis
Make-up manager Ruth Pegram!
Assistant make-up managers
Mary L«; Hodges, Joyce Mft.kinh
Photographic manager Bob Brown
Circulatirm managers Saiiah Bam., Douoi.as Bryant
Copy reader Mary Strowd Ward
1‘roof readers
IJOROTIIY Harris, Annk WnmriiEAD
P}iiMOND Harrison
Typists
Roiiekt Andrews, Cei.ia BARKi'nT. Mahguehite Ci.ement
Tai maixie Lancast1';r, King Moore Wii.i.is
Subsorlptlon rates for non-residents:
for colleRlate year, $1; single copy, 15c
S(!UII’TUKK VERSE
How beautiful ui)on the mountains are tlie feet of
him that bringeth good tidings, that ])ublisheth peace!
Tsaiah 52:78.
Be Thanhs Givintf
Kven though moat of the nations of the world today
are at war, yet Americana y>auae in the midst of this
turmoil to give thanka to God.
Years ago the I’uritan Fathers paused in the midst
of settling a new land to off(T thanks to (iod. They
wore thankful for this new land in wliich they hoped
to find ]>eace and freedom and therefore hap])inesa.
They were searching for freedom of worship, freedom
of speech, freedom of press, freedom from fear. In
their dejtires they were not unlike generations before
them, but perhaps they w(?re more daring and jwrsistent
than any before them. Men for ages had been searching
for freedom. For tliese precious freedoms the first
Americana had to fight. And tiirough their brave efforts
a democratic nation waa established witli the ideal of
freedom for all. Today like other generations of true
Americans the nation is seeking to preserve these
rights — rights that men have fought for through the
ages—rights that are dearer than life. Surely there
is cause for national and individual thanksgiving even
in this time of war: We arc part of a great democracy
that has showered unique blessings upon ns. Let u^
thank (Jod for all of these. Yes, let ua thank Him even
though this Thank.sgiying is a different Thanksgiving.
Nations arc at war with nations. Man is fighting
man. Men of America stand with, or against, other
men on the battlefronts of the world. Some may hardly
have time to remember that Thanksgiving ia here. Yet
let ua be thankful for the worthy ideals for which they
are fighting. Ixit tis, then, at this special season be in
a deepened sense—thanks giving.
Honesty Is More Than the
Best Policy
For several years now Louisburg College has offered
students u service scholar-ahip to help them meet col
lege expenses. Though there is a supervisor of all such
work, it should never be necessary for a check to be
made on the hone.sty of the stndent in his work nor his
truthfulness in rejM)rting his time at work.
It should not, however, l)o necessary for the work to
be supervised bo closely. Boys and girls old enough to
enter college should possess the traits of character that
would qualify them for resjx)nsibiHty in an honorable
manner. The task to be done should be faced with
understanding and with the determination to make the
best of the opportunity and to do the task in as effi
cient a manner as {K>ssible.
Sliould not each student on a service scholarship ask
himself whether he has yet learned this sense of honor
able responsibility in his assigned tasks. Some seem
willing to accept an hour’s credit for work that has
hardly taken an ounce of real energy.
Certainly, giving honest measure to others will pay
double dividends, giving to the task an honest measure
and quality of flcn’iee and giving to the student him
self the satisfaction of work well done. Only in this
way can the system of student self-help honor any col
lege or any student who accepts such help.
Salute to Alumni in Service
To former boys of Louisburg College now in service
this issue of Columns is dedicated. In former years
the.se boys were carefree youths on the college campus;
today they are men giving them.selves in service to
protect the rights and freedoms of all peoples. Many
of them—
. . took the khaki and the gun
I Instead of cap and gown.”
I By those still enjoying the college privileges that
I are being denied these men in service only one just
tribute can be paid—a tribute of new devotion and
dedication to those high and noble values of life that
make a civilization worth fighting for. Behind the
fighting lines battles of far greater seriousness can
be lost or won than any fought on the field of battle—
the battles to establish loyalty, unselfishness, truth,
and honor. It is these battles for character values that
students still on college campuses can dedicate them
selves to fight, and it is such battles that will best
honor those in service.
Grouping Pains
One quarter of the college year has passed. Students,
especially first-year students, have gone through a step
of realization during the past few we*ks—realization
by some students of just how little they have been
doing. No doubt ideas have changed since the begin
ning of the school term; that is, it is now' realized by
a larger number than before perha[)s that there exist.«
on the campus, not a playhouse but an educational
institution.
Some students have been disappointed in the first
half-semester reports for the simple reason that many
grades are surprisingly different from high school
gi’adea. Since some of these stages of realization have
passed, it has l>ecome an evident fact that greater effort
must be exerted to obtain a grade in college than was
exerted in high school to match that same grade. The
])oint of view has enlarged greatly by this time.
About five w'eeks remain in thia semester. Here is a
challenge to all to use these weeks to creditable advan
tage and bring these firat reporta up by the ])roceas of
more concentrated and more prolonged study.
Stndent Interlndes
A TRIP TO ORAIS
A balking donkey in a crowd
ed street; clanging, filled street
cars; fly-covered custard and dates,
sold to hungry natives as our “pea
nuts, popcorn, and candies”; hun
dreds of small .shoe-shine boys with
their limited, dirty English : “* ! ?—*
it—. Let’s go soldier—shine !” A few
modern stores; the reckless hacks
and cabs and their narrow misses;
flies and still more flies; a madly
happy French soldier telling us in
excited French that Italy had just
surrendered; a cool bookshop with
almost empty shelves where I Iwught
a book; hundreds of allied posters
upon the walls; the beautiful Opera
building; two small girls with whom
I talked in my poor French—“Please,
America Soldier—chewing gum?”
(one waa six, one seven) ; lovely .so-
l)histicated aloof French girls of
the higher class; lack of I’eau pot
able; wine shops; the smell from the
door of a pharmacy mixed with the
animal smell of the city; soldier
natives, flies; the coolness of coming
fall just before twilight—thus was
Oran on the evening of September 8,
1943!—PI de CC, North Africa.
3>ea^ ^amihf
Dear Mom,
Please forgive me for not having written sooner.
As you know, our exams have been keeping us busy.
Mom, I really did study, even though I made one B,
;? f;’s, and 2 l)’s. By the way, they told me, if 1 worked
harder, I could go into Phi Theta Kappa. I don’t
know' what it means, but 1 bet it means 1 am making
one of the highest grades.
Why didn’t you tell me that Sadie Hawkins’ Day
was the real stuff? We had one here, and I came out
in 4F. I never have run so fast. I finally got pulled
in—man, oh, man, those women folks really do know
b.ow to run !
Mom, you know I didn’t know how thankful I
sliould be until ])eo])le started makina; little talks
around. You know' it makes me feel mighty little. It’s
funny how I’m thankful for college, and at the same
time colleg(> makes me more thankful for home. You
know I’m always thankful for you. Mom.
I’m studying trig, so hard that I’m getting equation-
minded. Here are three equations that sound good;
only they ain’t (I mean, aren’t) true, but I really
wish they were:
What ought to be = what is.
What r should do = what I do.
How much I need to study = how much I do study.
I could give you a few more, hut that laat one has me
about beat.
Well, Mom, I guess I had better close and study be
cause I want to make Phi Theta Kappa.
Your loving married son,
Willie.
P. S. By married I mean I got caught and hitched by
Marrying Sam.
Sto*te>
(Exchange Column)
Don’t we all find it hard to be Christians in war
times? Have you stopped to think what a student
could do in regard to this task?
“The Christian does his own job well. Accept your
share of the disagreeable work. Maintain your own
physical and mental alertness. Give yourself to your
training with full devotion. That is your part in the
hastening of victory.” —The Intercollegmn.
Do you agree ?
“The man who wrote ‘Home, Sweet Home’ must
have been in college.”
—Creek Pehhles, Campbell College.
Here’s a wise bit of advice:
“If you don’t like the impresaion you’ve made on
othera here, now’s the time to start changing it.”
—Greek Pehhles, Campbell College.
W^ould this not apply to Louisburg College also?
“Every new girl wants to feel that she is a part of
Meredith and really belongs, and every old girl w'ants
her to feel that way. Take part in the activities of the
college and ywu will soon feel as if you alw'ays
belonged.”
—The Twig, Meredith College.
A TRAIIS APPROACHING
IM THE DISTANCE
A man, a crouching, cringeing fig
ure in the dim moonlight, cautiously
crept across the low stubble field
somew'here in Holland. While he
crept forward, as every stick, stone,
and piece of tawny grass tore at his
old clothing trying to hold him back,
he thought of this field two years
ago: dancing tulij)s gently bowing
and curtseying as they bloomed up
on this now untilled rugged field that
was his land. With the coming of
that horrid horde, the tulips had
gone, to leave only thia ugly field.
When those men of Mars came, he
had joined a guerrilla band. He had
been sent by this band back to the
place that had been his home, before
the enemy came. Tonight he must
creep across this rough field, his field,
and blow up the tangible security of
his life—his dike. There was an air
drome near his home, the home that
he must destroy to help his country.
As he neared the dike, he saw a
sentry. He froze into the colorless
ground, fearful that he might now
be discovered when he was so near,
yet possibly so far. The sentry looked
around and slowly passed on.
He sprang forward and placed the
charge that the next train would set
off. As he slipped away, he painfullv
passed for the last time over the field
of his youth, where he knew every
nook and crannied place.
In his exhaustion, how'ever, every
thing around was now growing less
and less familiar. The rude ground
l)lurred before his dimming vision.
Now' that W'ater soon would flood the
airdrome, he knew that some day tu
lips would bloom here again. Losing
the will to fight the torpor threaten
ing him, he heard a train approach
ing in the distance.
—Margaret Ann Hughes.
MY PRAYER
Dear God, keep vs through this
night;
Show w tomorrow the way of light;
Lead w,s to say, "Thy will he done”
That worthy victories may he won.
Dear God, Mess all who are at home
While here tve’re striving to reach
life’s dome;
May memories of home bless us each
day
And help vs along the vpward way.
Dear God, in lands north, south,
east, west
May ovr hoys in service hy Thee he
hlest;
Keep them aware of thy presence
and care—
Dear God, this is my earnest prayer.
—Amen.
—Robert Willi p'okd.
WARTIME BUS TRAVEL
In my opinion a war-time bus can
he easily compared to a filled sar
dine can, with only a particle of con
trast. So difficult is the situation that
I am frightened at the prospect of
traveling without a full .suit of ar
mor. It is quite a risk of one’s life.
Arriving at the bus station scarce
ly ten minutes before the bus leaves,
the war-time traveler finds that the
end of the ticket line is just outside
the front entrance. Finally crossing
the multitudinous seas of trunks,
travelling bags, baskets, boxes, bun
dles, pets, packages, and human be
ings, he purchases a ticket and hur
riedly stumbles outside where his bus
is supposed to be waiting. Somehow
he notices that the crowd is consid
erably thinner and that the track his
bus formerly occupied is now' va
cant. He has been left behind!
Trudging back into the bus sta-
THE OAKS
The oaks are pvt here for us all to see
Hov) God mvst have wanted our own
lives to he.
*ls upright and sure in our purpose
each day
Of the things to be done in our tuork
or our play.
-l.s their acorns disperse and fall
down to seed.
May our deeds te so scattered to find
those in need.
With our arms outstretched like the
limbs of each tree,
We should symbolize love for hu
manity.
■ Lv the wind bends the boughs arch
ing over our hill,
11 e too should respond to the Mas
ter’s will.
We must make our lives as His word
comrnands :
Deep-rooted, steadfast—as the oak
free stands.
—Lola Windsor.
tion, the traveller inquires about the
next bus going to his desired destina
tion, only to learn that he has six
full hours to wait.
Six W'eary hours pass and with
their passing, another bus. The
traveller quickly gathers his belong
ings and runs w'ildly to a certain
track. Before the bus has come to
a full stop, he has planted himself
directly and firmly in front—in front
of the door. Like a herd of animals
rush the other travellers from within
the bus station—crowding, lunging,
pushing—and crowd around the
traveller. He has a faint notion that
the bus is grow'ing farther and far
ther away. The notion becomes a
realization! The crowd has pushed
him ten feet aw'ay from the door,
and the distance is still growing. He
musters up all the courage he can
and shoves straight towards the door,
but to his amazement he is shoved a
couple of feet farther back by the
elbow of a big, husky fellow with
football shoulders. Being a bit tim
id, the traveller remains fixed.
After a period of seemingly indefi
nitely waiting, he steps up to the
door, and seeing a space about a foot
square, climbs aboard. Still clutch
ing his articles, he leans against the
rod just back of him, finding that
someone else has already had the
same idea. He learns, too, that his
coat is caught in the door and he
has to remain in one position
The war-time traveller learns an
other thing; buses have one of two
temperatures—too hot and too cold.
Arriving at his destination with
bruised feet, an aching head, extraor
dinarily heavy bundles, and a de
pressed spirit; the traveller firmly
resolves not to travel again for the
duration.
—Vivian Creech.
What we do today will have an
influence upon others that will live
on tomorrow.
—Kathleen Wooten.