Newspapers / Elon University Student Newspaper / Dec. 12, 1951, edition 1 / Page 2
Part of Elon University Student Newspaper / About this page
This page has errors
The date, title, or page description is wrong
This page has harmful content
This page contains sensitive or offensive material
PAGE TWO MAROON AND GOLD Wednesday, December 12, 1951 Mfirooii and Gold Edited and printed by students of Elou College. Published bi-weekly during the college year under the auspices of the Board of Publication. Entered as second class matter at the Post Office at Elon College, N. C., under the Act of March 8, 1879. I>«iivered by mail. $1.50 the college year, 50c the quarter. editorial board Lynn Cashion Editor-in-Chief Matt Currin Associate Editor Edward Engles Associate Editor J. B. Pickard Feature Editor Cooper Walker Art Editor Happ’e Wilson Dramatics Editor William Burke Staff Photographer Luther N. Byrd Faculty Advisor BUSINESS BOARD Matt Currin Business Manager Joann Carson Circulation Manager B. G. Frick Printing Advisor ^Edward Engles Press Operator SPORTS STAFF Joe Spivey Sports Editor George Etheridge Sports Assistant Sophia White Sports Assistant REPORTERS Evelyn Booth Sue Ireland Joe Brankley Dick Levine Rosamond Bromley Rachel Matthews Jimmie Cole Archie Morgan Nelvin Cooper Sarah Murr Hank DeSimone Bob Niemyer Reita Durham Bob Reece Harry Farmer Charles Russell Larry Gaither Wenonah Taylor Pat Gates Nancy Vaughan Mary Jo Johnson Joan Wickman WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 12, 1951 LISTEN, YOU SHALL HEAR Almost two thousand years ago there was bom in Bethlehem of Judea the Sav ior of the World, The Prince of Peace. His coming had been predicted by John the Baptist as "One Mightier than I after me, the latchet of whose shoes 1 am not worthy to stoop down and unloose. 1 indeed have baptized you with water; but He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost.” And so it came to pass that the Messiah was born in a lowly stable in the city of David because there was no room in the Inn; and from this stable came the Light of the World, a light which has shone to all parts of the globe. God came to earth in the form of Jesus, “His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” The Christ ChUd grew up in Nazareth, the son of a carpen ter, whose trade he also followed for a time. We all know and love the stories, recorded^ in the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, of how Jesus grew to manhood and went out into the land to preach the gospel of love. And then came the tragic end when He was only 33 years of age, the age when most men are just going out into life. But on the third day He arosef rom the dead and ascended into heaven. In scarecly thirty-three years of life, only a few of which he preached his gospel of love, He made a mark on civilization which v/ars and totalitarianism have not been able to eradicate or even blemish. Some have rebuked the story of Christ as supernatural in a realistic world; but after all supernatral is defined as some thing which is not natural, in other words something unable to be understood. How many phenomena there are in this vast and wonderful univei'se which the mind of Man has not been able to explain or even understand. I dare say that fifty years ago we would have called the miracle of television sup ernatural; but now we understand it. The same with religion. God is all powerfl; He can do anything—we should always keep this in mind before adopting the attitude of skepticism. Man is but a speck in this great universe of ours, how can we expect our little minds to comprehend all things. At this Christmas season of 1951, let us be reminded of that Christmas morn so many years ago on the other side of the world. As we sing the beautiful and in- fpiring Christmas cards, let us be remind ed of their true meanings. If we listen, we can hear the song of the angels of old singing once again: “For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given, and the government shall be upon His shoulder; and His name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.” A Very Merry Christmas to you all! —M. C. cash on the spot By LYNN CASIIION The other evening, as is my custom, 1 was enjoying my after-dinner smoke while warming my feet before the open fire which burned in the ancient firt-place of my bedroom. My chair was more than usually comfortable, and the restful glow of the red coals cast dancing shadow's into every portion of the room. It must have been the darkness of the room and the flickering fire that hud im- piessed my sub-conscious mind so, for 1 was not for long to enjoy my restful slumber. I am often subject to dreams, but by no means a dream so vivid and terrifying as the one that agonized my mind at that time. It seems that 1 was riieaming of Dickens’ “Christmas Carol, but the thing that shocked me so was lhat 1 was Scrooge. Yes, 1 was acting the role of that old tight-fisted, squeez ing, wrenching, grasp'ing, scraping, clutch ing, covetous, miserable sinner, Ebenezer Scrooge. As I reclined there, I could feel the cold vvitnin me freezing my features, crook ing my nose, shrivelling my cheeks; my eyes turned red, my lips grew thin and blue, and my snoring became the voice of a pitiless and merciless old skinflint. It was not long until 1 heard a clank ing sound, deep down below, as if some one were dragging a heavy chain over the steps leading from the basement. The cellar door squeaked slowly open, and then I heard the noise much louder com ing down the hall, straight toward my slid ing doors, which had no lock! Slowly tiie doors parted, and there stood Marley, nis body transparent amidst the vapors of death. I sat there petrified, listening to the eirie voice of Marley as it explained his burdensome chain and the reason for his not resting in peace, for Marley had been dead for years, and there was no doubt about it. Marley was as dead as a doornail. The apparition finally vanished as mysteriously as it came, leaving with me the warning that I would be exposed to three ghosts, to all of which I was to be accountable for my sinful past. Upon the stroke of twelve, a cold, moist hand enclosed mine within its grasp, and 1 found myself floating into the ages past with the Ghost of Christmas Past. As we went our way, we passed old acquaintanc es of mine, who were conversing in the streets. The ghost drew me nearer to them, and I could then hear their con versation. They spoke not one kind word of me. My good deeds of the past had been few and thoughtless; my shame was to no avail. Then came the hour of the. Ghost of Christmas Present. Oh, but how un bearable was my suffering! Was it pos sible for one person to have had so many faults? I could do nothing in amend- nient. Time passes but once, and chances come but once. I begged for mercy, and received the same, undeserved. Once more I found myself reclining in my bed room chair. At last 1 was again resting, but good things are truly brief. My heart began to throb, my face broke out in a cold sweat, for it was then that I remembered Marley's warning. I was next to face the most dreaded and feared ghost of all—the Ghost of Christmas. Yet to Come. What would the future hold for me? My mind pounded upon this question. Was there no way to escape the last of the spirits? If only I could awaken myself from the tortures that surrounded me. But wait, ■something wa.« burning my fingers. Was I to be burned alive in punishment of my sins? Was my dream mixing Hie spirit world with the physical? Suddenly I awoke to find that my ci garette was scorching my fingers. The room was in total darkness. The fire had died down. My body was still moist with perspiration, my throat miserably dry. I turned on the lights and rushed to the mirror; I beheld my face, and not that of Eebnezer Scrooge! I sighed with a thank ful relief . . . and then, I thought that I heard music. 1 listened closely ... it was. “God rest you merry gentlemen, may nothing you dismay!” rang throughout the community. I hurriedly dressed and dashed onto the campus, greeting every one in sight with good tidings. Merry Christmas, humbug! Those are words of the past. It is Christmas Present, and I am again myself, so it is “Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to yoi.- all, and God Bless Us Everyone.” AT WORK ON NEW EDITION OF PHI PSI CLI The s.at: of pjj (;i, j.,.,. , rc'nr out in recent week, to prepare the 1952 edition of Elon’s yearbook for the printers. A quartet of those busy beavers, busily at work, is shovn above. Left to right, those in the picture are Reita Durham, business manager; Page Painter, edi tor-in-chief; Joe Spivey, sports editor; and Laverne Brady, associate editor. Another Annual In The Making. • • Page Painter is a busy man these days. He told an M. and G. leporter that being the editor of the Phi Psi Cli is a full time job if it is done right, and that re porter is sure that it will be done fight with Tage Fainter as the editor. Page was named to the ixisition at the beginning of this ■urrent school year, and he has been working an average of about six hours per day since then in preparation for the deadline, which is February 15. After having climbed three flights of stairs in the library ouildina in search of the annuai office, the roving writer realized that climbing the stairs three or iour times daily in itself would be a strain, and when there are hours of hard work sandwiched in be tween it seemed sure that mem bers of the annual staff have jone back to their dormitories very tired many nights and will !o so for many nights to come Page v/as found seated behind a long table on which were piled stacks of papers, literally hun dreds of pictures, ranging from small indSvidtial shots to large group pictures, and in the very middle of the table what resem bled a scrapbock, which Page stated was the book in which all the pictures and stories were ar ranged and then sent to the pub lishers as a copy of what the an nual is to look like. Page invited his visitor to have a seat, and it was^then that the reporter started firing questions at him right and left. In just a few minutes he had a fairly complete picture of the work which goes into the publication of a college annual. To be perfectly frank, he had no idea that the job of editor of the Phi Psi Cli was such a long, hard task. Page says that the annual should be out by the middle of May at the latest, and if every one will cooperate with him he leels that there may be a possi- bihiy of getting the annual from the publishers some earlier. His main problem now is in getting the students to turn in informal shots, so if any of the readers have shots that might be of in terest, he requests that they please submit them to him im mediately. Just before the reporter depart ed, Page let him have a glimpse of the plans of the 1952 Phi Psi Cli, and an advance tip is that this publication is going to be one of the best since it was first printed in 1913. Elon Student Produces Own Invention ... By MATT CURRIN Roger Gibbs, the president of the Student Body of Elon College, is not only an outstanding musi cian and politician but he is also a manuiacturer and inventor, for just around the corner from tht Elon Grill is the sight of the Elon College branch of the Gibbs Ma chine Company — home of the Roll-O-Wax, which is the inven- experimental station, but, as the tion of Roger and his father, R. A. invention grew into maturity. Gibbs of Greensboro. The Koll-O-Wax was first eon- Roger began making the machine in his own shop here at Elon as jeived during the summer of 1950 well as in the shop in Greens- .nd developed during the latter jart of 1950 and early 1951, at vhich time the Roll-O-Wax di- .ision was opened at Elon College. The Elon branch was at first an STUDENT PREXY IS MAN OF BUSINESS ROGER GIBBS, TII BUSINESS MAN boro. The Roll-O-Wax resembles an electric waxer, but instead of waxing floors the Roll-O-Wax is primarily a paste wax applicator, and Roger tells me that it is the only one of its kind on the mar- tet today. However, the Roll-O- Wax will also double as a waxei. A cover comes with it, which may be attached to the roller, and then the machine can be used as a waxer as well as an applicator. It’s as easy as sweeping the floor to apply paste wax with the Roll-O-Wax, and I can vouch for this statement, for 1 tried out the machine and was convinced. ft takes only about eight to ten min utes to apply wax in the average sized room. The machine elimi nates bending and stooping, there by preventing infamous backache and strain. No messy hands ef- ther, for all one has to do is just roll the wax onto the floor. A touch of the toe unlocks the roll er lor applying paste wax. An other touch of the toe locks the roller into position for smoothly spreading the wax onto the sur- face. Yes, it’s as simple as A-B-C to operate the Roll-O-Wax, for all one has to do is open the cover, fill with paste wax, close the cover, and the operator is ready to apply wax. It is economical, because it does not waste valuable I wax ... it smoothes it evenly, without streaks. Jt saves time, and it saves tempers as well. Roger has proved the old adage to be true that “Necessity is the : Mother of Invention.” He invites j j anyone interested in seeing the machines in different stages of development and in seeing a dem- ■ (Continued on Page Four) of cabbages and kings By ED ENGLES Well, happy day. Things are popping at dear old Elon these days. Brisk new quarter beginning, basketball season op ening, the Choir has given their usual ex cellent rendition of the “Messiah,” the Barter Players are due soon with another Shakespeare production, “The Merchant of Venice” (which should also be excel lent, if past performance is any criterion), Christmas vacation just around tlie corner (and with the bloated bellies just begai- ning to subside from the Thank.sgiving orgies). But perhaps the most significant news f f all is tlie book of poetry published by John Foster We.st, Eton's own. Bearing the provocative title “up ego!”, the book became available on December 1, on sale (autographed copies, but natch!) in the Elon College bookstore, as well as at the Alamance Book Store in Burlington. The edition is a limited one, and the auto graphed copies are even more so; so hop onto it kiddies ... ten years from now an autographed first edition of Professor West’s poetry might very easily be a col lector’s item + ♦ ♦ ♦ + A new and happy addition to the Elon scene is the small art studio recently op ened by one Mrs. Betty Wesson, an ama teur (don’t let the .word deceive you) sculptress of remarkable talent and even more remarkable disposition. 1 comment on the disposition because, at the expense of her own time and material, and with truly incredible cheerfulness in the face of dismal adversity, she is coaching me as I laboriously poke at a shapeless lump of clay, which might, the Muses willing, some day resemble Buck Keaton. Which I think is funny, even if you don’t. ♦ ♦ ♦ * ♦ And now, kiddies, the time has come for a little moral lesson on the danger of lifting direct quotes out of their con text. (Isn’t it nice that I am in a posi tion to decide when it is time for you all to learn something?) For subject matter 1 have chosen a book at random, Bertocci’s “Introduction to the Philosophy of Re ligion.” In the opening chapters of the book, Mr. Bertocci rambles along easily and harm lessly, then, waxing more enthusiastic, he begins to get his teeth into the argument, and he states, abruptly, “All cats are dogs.” (p. 52) This is not too difficult to assimilate, but later (also on p. 52) Mr. Bertocci distinctly slants his material, and, if I may say so, in a rather unneces sarily personal manner, when he says, "The professor is a dog!” His next memorable statement comes on p. 55, when he points out that “. . . daddy has only two hands ...” We don't feel quite up to disputing this with him, but I doubt the profundity of the claim on p; 54, “. . . we cannot be sure of the truth of any conclusion . . .” At this point it is easily seen that Mr. Bertocci is wig gling away from scrutiny, and later he goes into generalizations, such as, “Plates usually break if dropped in the sink . . .” p. 56). On p. 59 he goes completely to pieces, having argued himself into a dismal state of confusion, and says, of the lines he is v.riting, “I might be wrong about the fact these lines actually exist.” Regaining a certain small amount of confidence on p. 60, he aggressively asserts that ‘. . . I am the same person that I was ten minutes ago . . but he later hastens to add, “I have decreasing confidence in these mat ters . . .” Page 60 also contains a de precatory reference to “. . . my own limi tations and dias . . . ’ but it is tucked away so obscurely that only the most care ful reader would see it and realize that, if the author is admittedly biased, then the book is acfua^l'^ worthless. So we can just igrore a greater part of the following text, but there are a few quotes farther back in the book which de serve mention, in the light of the author’s plainly seen biases. For example, on p. 233, we find that “Right and wrong as moral terms are nonsense syllables . . and on p. 414, in a chapter entitled ‘The Best of All Possible Worlds?” he allows that “This question is critical.” However, I suppose it is only poetically just to close with the neat line found on p. 451, which also saves me from drawing a moral from all this, as the author says. We do not mean what we seem to say, if you take us literally, without remem bering the context of our discussion."
Elon University Student Newspaper
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
Dec. 12, 1951, edition 1
2
Click "Submit" to request a review of this page. NCDHC staff will check .
0 / 75