Page Two
THE GUILFORDIAN
Published semimonthly during the
school year by the students of Guilford
College.
Editor-in-Chief Robert Register
Managing Editor Tobey Laitin
Business Manager Armstead Estes
Editorial Staff —L. M. Gideon, Roy Leake,
and Joe Crescenzo.
Sports Staff —Paul Carruthers, Fred Tay
lor, Helen Louise Brown, and Helen
Lyon.
Business Staff —Dolly White, Edna Earle
Edgerton, Dorothy Edgerton, Marion
Hulls, iirnl Jean McAllister.
Reporters —Jessie Joyner, Robert Rolir,
Marjorie Neill, Cesca Fanning, John
Ilobby, John Downing, Bette Bailey,
Barbara Anderson, Honey Gray, Shir
ley Ware, Mildred McCrary, Tal
madge Neece, Winifred Ellis, Corinne
Field, Nancy Graves, Hazel Key,
Itosaleen Leslie, Elois Mitchell, and
Mary Winter.
Faculty Advisers William O. Suiter,
Dorothy L. Gilbert, and Philip W.
Furnas.
Subscription price SI.OO per year
1940 Member 1941
Phsociated Golle&iate Press
A Musical Proposition
With the advent of Gregory Tucker,
pianist-composer from Bennington college,
there recurs the need for a studio piano of
good tone.
The large Mason and Hamlin piano in
the auditorium, the only instrument 011
campus of fine quality, is impossible to
move far from its usual stance. The smaller
pianos in the Music building, the gym,
and Founders' are of inferior quality.
Consequently, when the need arises for
a small piano which can be used by a
musician such as Mr. Tucker, or at infor
mal gatherings, in the gym, or possibly for
light music in the dining hall, we have had
to do without. •
An instrument of that type would meet
the wants of the entertainment course and
the needs of student organizations such
as the social committee, the Y's, the choir,
the W. A. A., the Pine Arts club, and the
Monogram club, to mention several.
Tt could be moved easily for im
promptu musical programs, class meetings,
for small gatherings in the Hut and else
where on campus.
A small piano of the studio type suitable
for such purposes can be purchased for
approximately SBOO.
Through the person of the business man
ager, the administration has expressed ap
proval of a plan for the purchase of such
a piano, and is willing to pay half its cost
if the student organizations will raise the
other half.
Through the cooperation of the college, it
may be possible to cut the cost 20%, re
ducing the student share to $l2O, of which
THE GUILFORDIAN will pay 10%.
Such an arrangement between adminis
tration and students will surely be to our
advantage.
Due to the number of student organiza
tions, no single group will need to draw
heavily on its funds. Our contributions will
he fully compensated by the meeting of a
pressing need. For the piano will be an ad
dition to campus social life to be enjoyed
by all of us, and to draw us more closely
together. T. L.
|j| LJi—
/A
Ohli, ha))|).v day! Just when I was holding
my head in despair, muttering to myself that
there was 110 reason I should write this drivel,
because nobody reads it anyway, what happens?
There is talk that certain elements of Guilford
society are planning a necktie party for Pete
McMillan. The charge: Contributing libelous
information to this column. Hurrah! I have
a public. Although the poor boy is innocent,
just 011 general principles, can I kick the trap
door? Can I, huh?
Oh, the weakness of some men. T'other day
Gw.vn was politely but firmly turned down when
lie Invited Claire to a basketball game. Next
evening when lie called with another day hop
at the Mary Hobbs sleeper.v, who should come
fluttering down but little Miss Potter, gushing,
"How nice of you to come to take me to the
game!" Did he take her . . . ?
Incidentally, it has been rumored that Men
ilinhall has given up. It seems that the Mendiu-
hull charm now radiates in the general direction
of Jean Calderwood. "Out of the frying pan. .
or vice versa.
And another party claiming interest in the
affair lias removed himself, and is concentrating
on Greensboro lilondes. Just needs a vacation,
p'h'aps.
It's funny how some news just doesn't got to
the right people at the right time. For instance,
why couldn't Boh Wilson have heard of Bar
liara Anthony's week-end visit with the Taylors
before he indulged in a little impromptu brag
ging about his conquest of the blonde? It might
have saved an exposure of his inflated—oh,
skip it.
Heard on campus: Tommy It. yelling across
campus to Stan Woodward that he could date
her while Charlotte was away.
But Stanley came right back into the fold
when his shepherdess returned from a week
with her fiance at Cornell. And they say you
can't have your cake and eat it, too.
From around and about: Connoisseur Elmer
McAdoo flashing his billfold art gallery of Guil
ford cuties . . . Itili Nafe squiring a red-head
about in Greensboro, bolstering his nerve for
other engagements, some people hope . . . Made
line tlowlctt coming out of her seclusion to ac
company I toll Garrett to a basketball game . . .
Wint Meibohm leading an exemplary life but
aspiring to some publicity just the same (You're
welcome) . . . Men students waiting in the
Dean's outer office for their grades gleefully
filling out (unsigned) questionnaires about last
semester's courses—reading results on the faces
of emerging fellows.
Business of remembering how Tom Taylor
stayed up all night preparing a chapel speech
on George Washington for the great man's birth
day celebration and then slept through chapel.
Barton McMillan, Bill Nafe, Bill Gwyn, and
Bob Garrett are serving formal notice oil
Wolden Phillips that they think Eleanor Beittel
much too attractive to be monopolized. Per
haps so, but from this corner, none of them
appear to be extraordinarily efficient "trust
busters."
Ifo hum! Just a few more lines and I won't
have to fill out this column with poetry. But who
am I to suppress the artists. If this doesn't fill
it out I guess I'll just let the poets have it.
THE GUILFORDIAN
Open Forum
Editor, The Guilfordian:
Today, Herr Hitler is spreading havoc in
England. Tons of bombs, killing hundreds of
people. They cull this man a maniac, a maniac
mad with the lust for power. Is he this, or is
he really the liberator of the present German
people?
Granted, he is a mass murderer, a persecutor,
a liar, and a thief but what ambitious patriot
would not bear the same cross if his country
were in the same perilous condition as Germany
after the last war.
Let not "wool" of propaganda be pulled over
our eyes. We are now economically allied with
Great Britain. We, in this dangerous position,
should not think that Britain and the liritish
people are the maltreated country that they
would have us believe. Suppose Germany had
been the victor in the first World War; Eng
land would be the aggressor nation now: bombs
would be falling 011 Berlin instead of London.
British soldiers would be pouring into France
to tight for British "liberty from the Teutonic
barbarians." Prance and Britain would then
be the partners in iniquity. England would be
in exactly the same position as Germany has
been during the last two decades. Internal
strife, social degeneration, struggles for life,
struggles to obtain even the mere necessities —
food and shelter. I> we remember that two
million people in Germany died from starvation
caused by the "humane" British war methods?
We 011 this side of plenty are blind to the hard
ships and trials of the last generation of Ger
man people.
It isn't a matter of revenge or "1111 eye for
an eye." Pride is a large factor in this con
flict of which Germany is the aggressor. Xot
only to show the rest of the world how they
have risen from the depths to the heights, but,
mainly to prove it to themselves. The Germans
of today need self-confidence and Hitler is giv
ing it to them.
If Germany had not been humiliated as she
was after the last war, we would not bo having
today's struggle. Blame it 011 Hitler's greed if
you will, but while 011 the subject don't forget
fhe selfishness of the stupid and self-centered
French and English politicians Clenienceau and
Lloyd George, when they laughed at President
Wilson while lie fried to see Germany lie given
a fair peace treaty in 1920. I'.ut 110, they took
everything—colonies, army, navy, resources—
and by the Polish Corridor, divided Germany
into two seperate areas—they quenched all, all
except the unquenchable German pride.
The Germans aren't pugnacious and boorish
as the majority of modern Americans think.
They like their "Kaffeeklatsch" and warm,
pleasant homes, their children and companions,
their dancing and music, beer and sauerkraut.
Try to think of the German people not as mani
acal Teutons, but as humans, humans that are
trying to regain something that is rightfully
theirs—a place 111 the sun, where they can hold
their heads high. JOE MERLAU.
GRIST
Coached by Block Smith, the Quaker's leading
players are: Parker, Caldwell, Mendinhall,
Shell, White, Wace, Manchettl, and Hardly.
(Appalachian.)
Slippery ice—very thin
Pretty girl—tumbled in
Saw a boy—on the bank
Gave a shriek —then she sank
Boy on hank—heard her shout
Jumped right in—pulled her out
Xow he's hers—very nice
ISut she had—to break the ice.— (Pioneer.)
My parents told me not to smoke—l don't
Or listen to a naughty joke—l don't
They told me that I must not wink
At pretty girls or even think
About intoxicating drink —I don't.
To dance or flirt is very wrong—l don't
I* kiss no girls, not even one
I do not know how it is done.
You shouldn't think I have much fun—l DON'T.
—(Lantern.)
Miss Gons—Just look. Dinkey! I can write
my name in the dust on this table.
Dinkey—Yes, I see; ain't education grand.
Student—How does it happen that I find a
nickel in my soup?
Walter—You said you would stop eating if
there wasn't some change in the meals.
Dr. Campbell—Mr. Downing, how many bones
in your body?
Johnnie—2oß.
Dr. Campbell—No, 207.
Johnnie—l swallowed a fish bone at lunch.
(Adapted from Tiger Rag.)
February 15, 1941
4^E CTI IFF RY
I Ull CRESCENZO
We've had it tough finding stuff. It looks like
we'll have to hold out a literary tin cup to
keep it up. Anyway we'll resort to anything
to make it mean something to you.
We've written this Wednesday so that you
could read it Saturday, but since Valentine's
Day was Friday it will still be all right to write
some Valentines. (Hoy, what a guy will write to
fill space!)
The reason we're not attaching any names
is because wo have front teeth.
How's this:
You're headstrong, smug; you think you're
smart,
You think you're breaking some girl's heart—
Get wise, my boy, and heed this stuff,
We all think you've gone far enough.
If the shoe tits . . .
Try this, it's a honey:
You're just a little hussy,
You think you're pretty swell,
You think your kiss is heaven
We think your kiss is mediocre.
If the shoe doesn't fit, it's a miracle.
Here's our last letter home:
Dear Folks,
I'm so happy. Guess why? I got a "D" on
my report card. It's just, wat I need to make
my report complete, for I've gotten every other
mark. Ain't that nifty?
Your son,
JOE.
Did we tell you about the visit of Dangerous
Dan McGrew to Archdale? Just one more shot
and he'll be on, his way.
And do you know about Chester's sending
station? Just dial it in and get sent.
Rime Royal (not according to Hoyle) :
Sleeper had a date with Dot
The time had come but he forgot
lie had ii date with Cesca, too,
Forgot again—now that won't do—
lie's looking now for something new.
Now here's a question and it's neat—
Will Sleeper sweep 'er off 'er feet?
John Hobby, who is expanding his horizon,
says "Man does not live by bread alone," so he
goes out for the play and gets a role.
The other nit'e Hobby was standing at
Founders'. Some one had just rung down five
girls and walked off, leaving him to hold the
bag. Imagine his surprise when they all grouped
around him and wanted to know what it was all
about. Ah, John, carry on.
We supposed that some one has called Tucson
"The Rock" because he came up the hard way.
Suggestion:
Why not have a get-together-week? We see
a lot) of guys and a lot of gals who could make
each other get that far-away-look in their eyes.
Let's call it the, "Have a Date with Dame for
a Dime" week.
The stuff is getting worse. We've already
sprinkled it with verse, but we can't resist put
ting this poem in that came to us through the
mail. We don't know who wrote it but we do
know that he's a Masefield in disguise. We hate
to admit it, but it's our first fan letter and it
ain't even a fan letter:
I must go down to the store again,
To the bustling throng and Clyde.
And all I ask is a lemon coke,
With an ice cream cone beside.
And the chekerboards and the vic's song
And the old seats creaking,
And a happy smile 011 Margie's face
When that handsome man is speaking.
I must go down to the store again.
For that hunger pain in my side
Is a wild call and a clear call
That cannot be denied.
Anil all I ask is a smile from Hay,
While my hamburger's frying,
And just one sip from my milk shake
Which some one else is trying.
I must go down to the store again,
To the vagrant gypsy life—
To Brad's way and Stoop's way
Where the wit's like a whetted knife.
And all I like is a clever pun
To spring on a fellow rover.
And two B's and six A's
When the darn' semester's over.