Newspapers / The Guilfordian (Greensboro, N.C.) / Feb. 22, 1936, edition 1 / Page 2
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Page Two THE GUILFORDIAN Published semi-monthly by the students of Guilford College during the school year except during examinations and holiday periods. Member North Carolina Collegiate Tress Association Editor-in-Chief Frances Alexander Managing Editor Marguerite Neave Assistant Managing Editor Charlotte Parker Business Manager John Bradshaw SPECIAL EDITORS Feature Editors Ruth Hopkins, Charlotte Parker Sports Editor Earle Maloijey Alumni Editor Miss Era Lasley Assistant Alumni Editor . Mary Bryant Society Editor Rebecca Weant Typing Editor Geraldine Mac Lean Art Editor Claude Dunnagan REPORTERS Naomi Binford John Hollowell Margaret Umstead Mary Alma Coltrane James McAdams Marvin Sykes Rodman Scott Helen Traegar Isabelle Dunkhurst Sam Smith Pete Moore Milton Anderson SECRETARIAL STAFF Cora Worth Parker Ellen Niblock Dorothy McLawhorn Helen Traegar Mary Priscilla Blouch Isabelle Dunkhurst Circulation Manager Richard Binford Assistant Circulation Manager Thomas Ashcraft Assistant Business Manager James Parsons FACULTY ADVISORS Philip Furnas Dorothy Gilbert Address all communications 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 GUILFORDIAN wishes to state that the faculty are to be com mended for the unusual speed with which the grades appeared for this semester, even though it was impossible to have them ready before registration since there was no vacation between exams and registration. Teachers should see a value in the snow that is so deep that it keeps the students on campus, more time for study when there is no temp tation from town! We thank you. Some people think that only those possessing at least a master's degree should attempt to teach in college. This is a debatable ques tion, leaving one with the thought that whether or not he has these extra degrees, he must be a good teacher, interested in the education of his students. Perhaps that is more of an essential than the degree, or perhaps both are necessities. "What do you think from a student's standpoint ? Should we keep teachers who do not teacli t Preaching against apathy seems to do no good, if.it really is an apathetic group to whom one directs his remarks. There is a certain apathetic group on campus who apparently do not realize that things they are asked to vote on may affect them. For instance, the budget for 1936-1937 was presented in chapel one day with the provision that 50% of the school must vote in favor of it. From the number of people who attended this chapel, one had a feeling that there wasn't even 50% there. If a student wishes to miss excel lent speeches by good speakers in chapel, it is his own affair and loss; but when it comes to a question of voting, everyone should come out to show his approval or disapproval of the issue at hand. Can it be said that we as a student group are really apathetic? Let's show by a little action that we are not. Two billion dollars for veterans of a war eighteen years gone by! This is the latest offering of the government to the already too much expanded budget. Six hundred and five million were spent during the last fiscal year for the veteran administration. Largest peace time defense fund is asked in bill now pending in the H0u5e—5338,782,232 for the enlargement of the army, to increase its enlisted personnel, as well as that of the National Guard! Fact number two in the merry race to spend money in a warrior's way! Fact number three is the current plea for economy, the fact that we arc spending so much for relief and AAA's and the like, and should economize. Fact number four is in the form of more taxes for the people of this already greatly taxed nation. Facts number one, two, and four seem to completely overbalance number three, the plea for economy, and point to the way the coun try's money is being used. It really shows a lack of a sense of values. YVh ich is the highest value—to spend money to enlarge our facilities for killing Ihe people of other nations with whom we might fight, or is it higher perhaps to utilize this money for the development of our country, its people, its agriculture, and the like? It entirely depends on one's viewpoint! "Do you plan to kill or develop life?" is the question that faces one. We who enter political life or merely the life of a voter will have to face that, issue. We must be prepared to answer. Will our answer be the barbarian "Kill" or the civilized "Develop life"? Apathy Again? Kill or Develop? THE GUILFORDIAN Graveyard Watch By JOIIN McNAIRY Tlio world was,a dim, dai'k cavern, ill which Kills and Connie were again Hinging hot. harsh words at each other —words that rebounded and rang like rifle shots in a hard, bare room. Kit moved hi* shoulders 011 the hard wood en bunk, and suddenly lie was six again and his brother, Hill, was rock ing the l'owlioat 111 the hot August sun light. All alligator's bulbous eyes swished closer and closer and as lie bumped the boat Kit cried out and awoke sweating in tlie heaving dark ness of the Buccaneer's tiny cabin. Tlie boat was rolling to tlie freshening wind, and an occasional liiss of'water slith ered off tlie bow over his bead. The hatch rasped back and Connie's blond head appeared in the yellow flicker of the lantern. Kit rubbed his eyes and stretched. "Four o'clock, Kit," he said. "Your watcli —the graveyard watch. You must have thought we put her aground when we hit that last snag—you howled like a stepped-on dog." Kit blinked sleepily in tlie yellow glare, and slowly pulled 011 his sheep skin coat. "Had a bad dream," he yawned. "How's the wind?" "It's freshening up. but the lake's full of driftwood coming down on the high water —can't see 'em till it's too late to sheer off. Hope we don't hit a telephone pole or our name's mud. Well, I think I'll bit the hay myself." Kit stared down into his heavy rub ber boots—boots too heavy for water work. If he ever went overboard in them it would be like carrying two anchors. Connie might be able to say ui) —he swam mostly with his powerful, gorilla arms, but he and King "Isn't King coming off watch?" he asked. "I don't give a damn what he . I'm sorry, Kit. I don't know." Kit stared soberly at Connie's uncom promising Usielt, sighed deeply, and climbed on deck. The whining wind swept the sleep from his brain as soon as he came up. The Buccaneer was close-hauled, pounding the ever-grow ing waves with bulldog stubbornness, a sheet of spray hissing off the bow at each tugging shock. The shore was a dark, low-lying blur to port and star board, and far ahead a single, lonely light marked the power camp. King was sprawled on the after deck, the tiller in one bronzed band, his pipe casting a reddish glow over his lean, brown face. "You take her, Kit." be said shortly, "I'll try lookout for a while." His usual easy-going manner was gone, and a surly bluntuess had taken its place. "Aren't you going below with Con nie'/" asked Kit, surprised, lifting his voice, "you'll need that sleep tomor row." ".No, I told you I'll take lookout; I don't feel sleepy." Ills rubber boots clumped forward, and Kit dropped on the stern seat, propped himself against the starboard rail and felt exceedingly unhappy, lie counted back mentally the years lie and King and Connie had been pals—and brooded dolefully. A tisli splashed in the ink to starboard, and a bailing can rolled fitfully In the bilge. Far above, the cold, white stars freckled the gloomy sky, a banner of ragged cloud rushed across tlie white sickle of the new 1110011, the jib flopped and lashed again before tilling taut with a snap. A branch crunched under the keel before King could report it. Another and another, at long intervals, scraped by underneath. A mammoth hulk swept by in the darkness —an up rooted tree from upstream—then pilet reigned again. A blur in tlie night sky and the red and green running lights marked the airmail, flying liigli and free overhead. Kit wondered why their friendship couldn't go 011 like wise. Suddenly King was 011 Ids feet, shout ing. His pipe bounced 011 the deck, spewing hot ashes, and he was leaning far to starboard, liis elbow crooked THE BATTLE OF EAST AND WEST Talk about poor bums wlio haven't a home, Or orphans without any mother. It's a much worser state to have no place to date When you talk to your gallant young lover. j Sunday afternoon at Founders is a sight for sore eyes So many young ladies you'd see, Who patiently sit and intently knit, While saving two chairs, maybe three. Hard experience lias taught these Guil ford Co-eds That an arm chairs' a very rare prize, They know that they'd park on a small window seat Or sit on the floor otherwise. The coveted position of the girls ambition Is a nook called Cozy Corner Music from a radio and a small wicker bench Will make any young man's heart grow warmer. The problem has always been very great For the poor young Founderette dates, Our Hobh's sisters finish their dinner at six While we start a half an hour later. If you're very in love or not very hungry You'll quietly sit in the dark, And miss that famously wonderful Sun day night supper So tliat you and the boy friend can spark. Now when I die very rich and great I'm sure there'll be in my will, "Buy two hundred armchairs large and wide for Zay, And put a hundred sofas in Phil." —Anonymous. over n shroud, both hands braced on the boat hook. Then Kit saw it in the darkness a wrecked bridge or trestle, ponderous and deadly in tlie black water. Then it was upon them —the boat hook skidded and held, but tile shroud snapped like a stretched rulilier bund. King hit the water on his back, clutching wildly for the rail, and the icy black water closed over his heavy seaboots. Connie was already 011 deck in stock ing feet and shirt; rubbing his eyes, lie stared for a long second, then lie went over the stern rail in a racing dive and Kit heard Ills pounding strokes astern, then he was thrown headlong as the wreckage smashed into the bow. Staggering up, his head spinning cra zily from a blow from t lie main-boom, Kit saw the derelict slide astern. Re coiling from tlie blow, the Buccaneer swung broadside to the wind. The boat shuddered slowly over on its beam 1 lids black water poured in over tlie rail, and a welter of pots and pans clattered down the cabin deck. Kit struggled madly with the taut foresheet, cast the sail loose and then attacked the main sail. It too yielded and streamed out ill tlie wind. With tlie jib alone flying, Kit turned down wind toward King's far-away voice. I'rcsently, lie made them out, and drag ged them over the rail, one after tlie other. The Huccaneer rolled steadily along In the shifting sunlight; the waves rolled smoothly up astern aud fluttered happily on the beam; the sun 011 the water glittered more cheerfully than ever before; on board, three tired sail ors lay on the nfterdeck talking leisure ly together. King and Connie were debating the relative merits of sail rigs. Kit. smiling contentedly under the white bandage on his forehead, wasn't even listening, lie was content —peace reigned over the ship again. February 22, 1936 J X _ inn 3 Good morning, Mr. and Miss Guil ford, lot's go to press. Trust us not to be original. However, we don't always have to be when our constituency come across with one like this. A certain young gentleman on the campus, inti mately connected with the Biology de partment, said recently to a group, "You know how I feel," having reference to a debatable question. And at this junc ture a certain young lady of the same ilk (Biol.) put her foot coyly into the corner of her mouth and said, "Yes, I know how he feels, too." "And after that the dark" and confi dential agent Itchy left. i itchy went to the store the other night was i i was and to think a nice little boy like Clarence could make so much time in two dates with a person who had been previously attached and furthermore she has been at tached to the most artful romeo on the campus i am figuring Some boys ask the most embarrassing questions. Don't they, Mary Priscillaf A BALLAD OF LUVE WITH A CAP i itchy am always interested in what are called tritely budding romances it has been so long since we have had a real honest to goodness campus love affair that i had begun to despair •however a stillson saved as usual the day a new young gentleman has arrived upon the campus and as he is timid he casts a aura decidedly he does and furthermore there is an angle even perhaps a triangle i am hopeful yours itchy Ps he knows something about airplanes ho hum We Want to Know What You Know If any one can answer any of the following questions, will they please give tlieir material to the editor or some member of the. staff of the Guilfordian. The more material we can get the bet ter. It is to be used in a survey of the state of North Carolina. What has this locality to offer that may be of special interest to travelers or students? What points of historic, natural, scenic, legendary, unusual or amusing interest are found in this locality? Have you any folk customs, festivals, fairs, singing schools, traditions, stories, colloquialisms, dishes, etc., that are par ticularly characteristic of your neigh borhood or of this neighborhood. Sparger Robertson, a former student, lias accepted a position as assistant cashier in the Surry County Loan and Trust company, Mt. Airy, N. C. For { Fountain Pens Pencils j Hinjr Hooks Cards j Leather Goods—Novelties I Visit Wills Book & Stationery Go. I 107 So. Greene St.
The Guilfordian (Greensboro, N.C.)
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Feb. 22, 1936, edition 1
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