Newspapers / The Guilfordian (Greensboro, N.C.) / Feb. 24, 1934, edition 1 / Page 2
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Page Two THE GUILFORDIAN Published Semi-Monthly by the Students of Guilford. College Editor-in-Chief Clara Belle Welch Managing Editor Ernest White Business Manager Horace Stiinson SPECIAL EDITORS Sports Editor Charles McKenzie (Samra Smith Feature Editors I Dorothy Sturdivant Alumni Editor Esther Lee Cox REPORTERS Frances Alexander Louise Ward Mary Alma Coltrane Margaret Perkins Ruth Fuquay Mary Bryant Robert Poole John Macomber William Ferris Gladys Bryan Winston Davis Mary Edith Woody Elizabeth Alexander Franklin Fowler Lily Bet Hales Howard Woolley John McNairy SECRETARIAL STAFF Nell Ellington Billie Osborne Elizabeth Gilliam Clara Robertson Editli Moore Circulation Manager Earle Ivuykendall Assistant Circulation Manager La Verne Wellons Assistant Business Manager J. William Copeland Advertising Marvin S.vkes, Harry Brown FACULTY ADVISERS Mr. Philip Furnas Miss Dorothy Gilbert Address all communication to THE GUILFORDIAN, Guilford College, N. C. Subscription price $1.50 per year Entered at the post office in Guilford College as second class matter The Greater College It is of great interest to note that in the university of our own state the honor principle in student life has beeoine predominant. The students there are quite serious and feel a sense of personal and individual obligation of honor to clean out any forms of dishonor. They are sensing the danger—a danger common to any democracy— of becoming a part of what tliev tolerate. They are therefore driving out those who betray the public trust and trade in the temple of honor. The students in any college should realize what it means to be honor able. It is not so much that there will be misery in dishonor but there will be found inward growth and happiness in the open life of honor. Self-development comes most truly and deeply from within, and the rigid adherence to this honor principle in college will presently mani fest itself in the political, social and business life of the state. It is gratifying not only that the honor principle is revived and advanced in student life, but that it is actually working to the extent that dishonorable acts are reported by fellow students and suspended from the college by the student council for cheating on quizzes and examinations and other forms of dishonor. The key player was dropped from a varsity athletic team because he broke his training pledge a week before the game upon which depended a conference title. His teammates were deeply hurt, but the student leaders feel that the honor principle must prevail in athletics as in the educational part of college life. Dishonorable acts are common because the public sense has been blunted to the danger of becoming a part of what is tolerated. Obvi ously nothing can be of such vital importance to the life of an indi vidual and the state, nothing so essential to human society, as teaching a way of life that will make one wsih to be honorable because it is right and not through fear of the penalties attaching to dishonor. We have becme so much a part of things we tolerate that we excuse, and, without realizing it, we have almost reached a stage where dishonor has ceased to appall. This challenge of advancing the honor principle in student life should mean much to us—why shouldn't we make Guilford a greater college ? Our Part Are we conscious of the heritage in ideals, hopes and visions that has been left to us by our educational leaders? We often find flaws with the college and the life it offers. We do not stop to pause, reflect and try really to appreciate the efforts of those who lead us. Carelessly we criticize the food, the student board, and even classes, without realizing that we get from college and from life just what we put into it. When we knock our college we are only lowering the value of our own degree. The students play a great part in moulding the life of a college. Each student has a part in forming the reputation of his college. Since you are a part of your college, while you are there, if you criticize it, you are criticizing something which you have helped to make. If you slander, not making an effort to improve your part in student life and thought, you are condemning yourself by your own criticism. This is your college—you are.making it what it is—it is yours to uphold. And, as Dr. Stanlmry said, you yourself, bear unmistakably the stamp of your college. In working for a better Guilford, you work for the betterment of yourself. For your college is part of you, whether you will or no. THE GUILFORDIAN (Presenting a Freshman composition) COMPOSING The English teacher calmly looked over the English class. "You may bring in an essay of not less than five hun dred words for the next recitation." Such was the edict. I looked at liini but lie was paying no attention to us, he being occupied with gathering up his books in preparation to leave the class-room. Not many of us expect to become Lambs, Wordsworths, or Emer sons, and a written theme is some thing that strikes consternation to my soul. It makes me feel as if my liver has been out of order for a week. But "It's ours not to question why, Ours but to do or die." So, after delaying as long as possi ble, I take my nice sheet of paper and hopefully write a title. Then I bite the lead off the pencil and look at the title. It doesn't look so warm. So I make a lot of little marks all around the edges of tile pai>er and a new idea comes to my head. I change the title. It looks worse this time. The pencil now has teeth marks. All at once I feel thirsty and a journey to the water cooler follows. There another inspira tion strikes ine and I think that a lit tle fresh air would help me. I take a walk down the hall, stop at the win dow and gaze at the stars. Then I thrust both hands down into my breeches pockets and finger a miscel laneous collection of coins, a knife, a corkscrew, two shirt buttons, three nails, a round pebble, and an odd lit tle piece of carved wood which I se cured from a fortune-teller and which is supposed to bring me good luck. Now, I think I will go back to my task and write an essay that will tame any Lamb. I return to my table. Some how the inspiration Ims all oozed away. My mind is a perfect void; wholly empty of any thoughts or ideas. I take my sheet of paper and write some thing across it. Then I crush it up and throw it 011 the floor. That makes me feel better. So' I take another sheet and write a fresh title. It still looks bad. I roll it into a nice long funnel and shoot it at the ceiling. For a little variety, I tear the next sheet asunder and scatter it on the floor. Now I get up and tear my hair, fling off my coat and kick off my shoos, and I declare that I will stop the English course tomorrow. Then at last I compose myself and begin to write. The more I write, the more rotten seems the subject which I have ehc.sen. However, I sweat and strain till 1 complete one sentence after another. All I know is that they are terrible for I am liable to get fifteen different tenses, eight kinds of verbs, seven persons, and voices, active and passive, soprano and bass. The sub ject also has an uncontrollable way of leading off into something else, blind alleys preferred. Then when I think that I must have written at least six hundred words, I count them—and find three hundred, twenty-four. But the royal edict was five hundred words! Now, Noah Webster got forty thousand words out of twenty-six letters, but it almost gives me a brain storm to select lhe one hundred and seventy-six that remain needed to complete my theme. One thing that I promise here anil now, is that when I teach English no boy will ever have to write a single essay. The class and myself will ad journ to the play yard where we will play mumble-peg! JUI.ES SHARP. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing; Drink deep or taste not from (lie I'ier rion spring. —Alexander I'ope. Ormandy from Backstage (Note: The contributor of this arti cle warily signs himself F. E. We are printing it in spite of its somewhat limited interest. The contributor was evidently an unwelcome visitor at the Minneapolis Symphony Concert last week.) A pale young fellow in spectacles was the instrument of my salvation. Under his expert and evidently prac ticed guidance we eventually arrived on the cat walk, a sort of gallery that runs around three sides of the stage about thirty l'eet above it, from where the back drops are managed. "I've been here before," he explained. "1 heard Tibbett from here. He. had a college girl with him and when he came backstage between groups, boy, did he give her a fit!" "My God! Didn't lie see you?" "Yeah, but lie didn't care, lie gave us his autograph afterwards." This was too much. I held my peace. As the back drops hung below the cat walk it was difficult to see the whole orchestra at once. I was thank ful that the low visibility worked both ways. I chose a place from where I could get a good view of Ormandy con ducting. In front of 111111 and to the right. I could of course see his mean ingful glances at the musicians as well as bis whispered reminders. The ex pression of the outspread fingers of his left hand as lie entreated the violin ists to give him all they had was aw ful to look upon. If you were at the concert, dear read er, you noticed that Ormandy took his hows with an air of deprecation, with a hint even of disdain and contempt. I*iil observe him with me as llie stage manager pulls back the curtain for him to take his bow. At one time he is standing in perfect calm, a handker chief 111 ills hand, hut as he comes on stage lie begins madly swabbing his forehead and face. At another lie is givin his bow tie a few last touches. Immediately before coming out lie runs his thumbs down the under side of his coat lapels. And then, how carelessly does he stride to the conductor's stand, how calmly does lie bow, with what a generous gesture does lie motion his musicians to their feet. During the "I'atlietique"! took the opportunity to look at Ormandy more closely—to observe, for instance, how much hair he has lost since last year, to mark the large pouches under his eyes when his head was down and the light caught him from above, and his small shining eyes themselves when lie glanced up for a moment. When he raised his head, seemingly to call down inspiration from above, he breathed like a swimmer, thrusting out his lips and making his mouth into an "O." lie sometimes directed in this manner for several measures, lie would seem to lie looking straight through the top of this building. In loud or excited passages his pate, his forehead and face would become a lier.v beet red; one might have •bought him falling into an apoplectic tit. One notices also his evident liking fer strong contrasts and spectacular ef fects Between the third and fourth encores (heavens, what liberality') an oboist began hopefully tapping a cork-tipped cigarette on a silver cigarette case. When Orniandy returned with his ba ton the oboist put the cigarette hack in tlie case and with a weary, weary gesture placed the case on his music stand. During the fourth encore we went down to the stage level. Someone there told us that we might get an autograph if we caught him in time. Alter he left the stage we rushed around to the left side, considerably in the way of musicians changing clothes and con versing in a dozen or so languages through cigarette smoke, hut lie had already disappeared. February 24, 1934 Hack to flie grind again ... it must be one of the stipulations of a Guil ford college teacher's contract that they attend all the uplifting social functions on the campus. Judging from tlie look on Dr. I.jung"s face, it could not have been for pleasure that ho went to the Carolina Salon Ensembie program. It's "healed" news now hut our French prof and two of his playmates had a hard time "navigating" for a few days after their first escapade with the horses. The saddle girths were "rough on rats." Strange as it may seem . . . the boys in Yankee Stadium (lid not appreciate our story about their three Biology assistants in last issue. They've ac cused and threatened everyone except me and wouldn't they be surprised if tliey knew how I got my "dirt"? And with reference to last issue . . . semi-apologies, sneers and congratula tions to tile person who having been cracked at twice In the last two weeks, insisted that lie didn't mind personal insults but he disliked the idea of bringing girls into it. We pay due respect to that statement but we have "lie admonition to offer. This column prints only true happenings and few names, "If the shoe tits you, wear it." Our beloved French professor is very proud of his flashy new automobile, but I know for a fact that he wipes it off thoroughly every morning because there is so much "due" on it. SO WHAT : : : : Since Eliringhaus lias been searching for army mules, Neal has been keeping his ears pretty well out of sight. If cleanliness is next to Godliness, what a Christian Clara Belle must be. I'lans have been drawn up for a new addition to the post office in order that ■ our popular senior's bead may be bet ter accommodated. Former football captain, J. G. 8., thought that lie was doing something daring when he put some of his dad's contraband .clothing in a Founders' girl's laundry, but won't his face be red when he finals out that after a care ful canvassing of the laundry, I dis covered that he wears the second larg est "unmentionables" on the campus . . . outclassed only by one of those same famous Biologists. By the way, the girls discovered that two of them could wear the present at the same time and are considering going on the stage in a double acrobatic dance such as was seen at the National last week. .More power to them! in the spring a young mans fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love the girls been thinking about it all year Ask Kate about her sister named "Sausage," her dog named "Sandwich" mid her uncle who went fishing. One night I was in Center Section nt n very late hour and I overheard it funny conversation between six boys standing around :t table. Thus they articulated (you know what 1 mean— "sited" anyway) : "Busted —hit me— over—beat the board —I push—good— pot how odd these mortals—" Hack on the level—l fooled you . . . they were playing lilaek-jaek. I"VB GOT YE IN' MY. POWER . , . .BE\VAI:I : : I
The Guilfordian (Greensboro, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
Feb. 24, 1934, edition 1
2
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