Page Two. THE SALEMITE Saturday, December 12, 1931. The Salemite Published Weekly by the Student Body of Salem College SUBSCRIPTION PRICE 00 a Year :: 10c a Copy EDITORIAL STAFF Managing bdi~ Associate Editor .Lisociale Editor . Feature I ddo, Feature Editor „ Poetry Editor .... Ass't Poetry Edii Music Editor Society Editor .... Sports Editor n-Chief Sarah Gra A MERRY CHRISTMAS! - Mary Louise Micltey Margaret Johnsc Dorotliy Heidenrei Beatrice Hyde Susan Calder Marion Caldwell Martha H. Davis , Is ibella Hanson Mary Absher Jo.sephine Courtney Mary Ollie Biles Mildred Wolfe itor Miriam Stevenson REPORTERS PhyUis Noe Elizabeth Gray Martha Binder Margaret Long Mary Miller Zina Vologodsky Elinor Phillips CONTRIBUTORS’ CLUB Kathleen Atkins Mary Drew Dalton Mary Penn f) IE T IR r - BALLAD OF THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS There was no sorrier man than I, (A singing star in the winter night) Who saw the spirit of Christmas die. (Oh evergreen bough and holly!) BUSINESS STAFF Business Manager .. Mary Alice Beaman Advertising Mgr Edith Claire Leake Asst. Adv. Mgr Martha Bothwell Asst. Adv. Mgr Grace Pollock Asst. Adv. Mgr Mary Sampli Asst. Adv. Mgr ,.... Isabelle Pollock Asst. Adv. Mgr Emily Mickey Asst. Ad. Mgr. Mary Catherine Sit Circulation Mgr Sarah Horton Asst. Circ. Mgr Ann Shuford Asst. Circ. Mgr Rachel Bray LITTLE THOUGHTS FOR TODAY Glory, to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men. —Luke 2:14. Some say, that ever ’gainst that season comes Wherein our Savioui celebrated, The bird of dawning all night long; And then, they say, no spirits dare toi stir abroad; And nights are wholesome ; then no planets strike. No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm. So hallowed and so gracious is the time. —Shakespeares {Hamlet) s birth i: ingeth Christmas is in the air! Here ’tis again — the good old Holiday season that makes us pack all our Raggedy-Ann winter clothes in our trunk for mother to darn, that takes us home to see all the folks, that puts the good ole spirit in our bones, which makes us want to fill a little vagabond’s stocking, that makes want to stand under the mistletoe and be kissed! (The latter is confession contributed by one of the future old maids now residing in Bitting Dormitory.) If you don’t believe the season’s here, you surely didn’t go to Salem Day at the Anchor Store last week. The show-windows typified an old- fashioned Salem Christmas: quaint fire-place, the antique furni ture, the glittering, many-pointed star, the striped stockings hanging the mantle-piece—these made an spiring Yuletide picture of long ago. Now, even the streets are “decked with boughs of holly,” Christmas bells, and vari-colored lights. Next time you start downtown at night to the movie, make your masculine friend pause a moment with you at O’Hanlon’s corner and look all around you. If you don’t get the Christmas spirit then, something bad is wrong with you. Have you noticed the furtive glances, and the mysterious disap pearances of your friends lately? Just think, every furtive glance means a Christmas gift—for you! Ah, but that’s not the right attitude to take, of course. On Christmas you should always think of giving, receiving gifts. By the way, have you heard anybody say what she’ going to give me ? The other day I was rummaging in my room-mate’s closet (looking for a straight pin!) and I came upon a tiny brown package, nicely wrapped and tucked in a dark corner, way behind her last winter’s coat. “My Christmas present!” thought I. After a short and ineffectual struggle with my conscience, during which bat my conscience curled up died, I unwrapped the attractive package and found—moth-balls! After which intense disappoint ment, I shall wish you a merry Christmas—forever ’n’ ever. The Spirit of Christmas, year by Grew thin with horror and pale with Pale with fear for the vanishing Of the Angel Song and the Mangei Birth. I saw the Spirit shudder and stop Before the door of Ye Xmasse Shoppe And the Shoppe was full of tru ery toys, Gilded trinkets, and money, and n Hands that were soft and eyes that Buying Good Will on a colored card. The Spirit of Christmas wept to see The dollar sign on the lighted tree. Never a candle burning dim. But placards shrieking: “For Her!’ “For Him!” Money flowed in a smothering tide, And the Spirit of Christmas drooped and died, And over the snow the wind was cold And the buyers bought and the trad- CHRISTMAS MORNING If Bethlehem were here today, Or this were very long ago, There wouldn’t be a winter time Nor any cold or snow. i run out through the garden gate. And down along the pasture walk; And off beside the cattle barns I’d hear a kind of gentle talk. I’d move the heavy iron chain And pull away the wooden pin; I’d push the door a little bit And tiptoe very softly in. The pigeon and the yellow hens And all the cows would stand away ; Their eyes would open wide A lady in the manger hay, If this were very long ago And Bethlehem were here today. And Mother held my hand and smiled—■ I mean the lady would—And she Would take the wooly blankets of? Her little boy so I could see. His shut-up eyes would be asleep. And he would look just like our John, And he would be all crumpled too. And have a pinkish color on. I’d watch his breath go in and out. His little clothes would be all white. I’d slip my finger in his hand To feel how he could hold it tight. And she would smile and say, “Take Care,” The Mother, Mary, would, “Take Care”; And I would kiss his little hand And touch his hair. Dead the Spirit of Christmas lay. And a small child came along that Proud and happy, the child displayed An awkward gift that her h had made . . . I am the gladdest of mortal mei (A singing star in the winter night) Who saw, at the touch of a child of The Spirit of Christmas live again. (Oh evergreen bough and holly!) —Stoddard King. While Mary put the blankets back, The gentle talk would soon begin. And when I’d tiptoe softly out I’d meet the Wise Men going ii —Elizabeth Madox Roberts. PARAGRAPHICS We don’t have to be mathemati cians any longer to count the number of days before the Christmas holidays. Just one hand and two fingers! Finally we’re sure that winter is here. Even Dr. Rondthaler, who is an authority on signs of spring, musi admit that winter has made its much belated debut. To make her ing out” the more spectacular, she wore a brilliant dress—the latest model from the North Pole, snow, sleet, and ice. And there’s another reason we to see Christmas approaching. It’s the only time of the year we can really appreciate the concert voices of Dr. Rondthaler and Dr. Anscombe. Let’s sing “Joy to the World” oftener. What happened to our muffins foi breakfast. Today makes nineteen days since we’ve had them. And do we like muffins? CANDLES These candles are such lovely things. All amber-tipped and bright; They give the mellow radiance I like on Christmas night. So I have lighted small red ones Upon the waiting tree; Tall green ones on the mantel shelf To show the room to me. But this so slender, silver one— Much beauty cheaply priced—■ I bought to mark my window sill With halo of the Christ. And shepherd-like, all through the night Watching across the hill. It will remind some traveler Of peace—and of good wiil! —Clara Hood Puge.l. THE CHRISTMAS BABE So Small that lesser lowliness Must bow to worship or carees; So great that heaven itself to know Love’s majesty must look below. —]'phn B. Tabb. ^ “ : [] r: h ^ j ti i u ti i i i ii * Week-End Travels In the Realms of Gold LIGHT OF BETHLEHEM ’Tis Christmas night; the snow, A flock unnumbered lies: The old Judean stars aglow, Keep watch within the skies. An icy stillness holds The pulse of the night: A deeper mystery enflods The wondering Hosts of Light ’Till, lo, with That dims each diadem. The lordliest earthward bending, hail The Light of Bethlehem. —John B. Tabb. "Much Have I Traveled in the Realms of Gold" Do you still like to read delightful children’s stories? If you | I don’t care to read them, of course you like to look at brightly-colored 1 I pictures such as are found in James Baldwin’s interpretation of the g I famous The Story of Siegfried. This book does not give a literal | I translation of the old Siegfried myths, but the changes made by Mr. | I Baldwin add to the charm of a story which has failed to grow old | I during many centuries. Perhaps the charm of the book lies in the | I fact that it is a story of adventures and a story easily comprehended. | I If term papers bore you too much, travel thousands of miles from | I them with Siegfried. I Have you ever been to Russia? Were you ever tempted to I rebel against all authority? If you haven’t been to Russia, just 1 get an idea of Russian life through Turgeneff’s Fathers and Sons. = I The struggle between old and new forces of Russian society is de- I picted vividly through the story of Bazarof and Kirsanof, two young _ I men who resent restraint and whose fathers adhere to authority. Ivan | I Turgeneff, a Russian himself, has given a> realistic and sincere picture I of the battle between fathers and sons. If you have ever rebelled 1 against something you didn’t believe in, perhaps you can sympathize 1 with Bazarof and Kirsanof. _ i An old, white-headed fiddler, sitting on his doorsteps lazily 1 I plays his fiddle and sadly looks into space. Unconcernedly he is □ sitting there, never once conscious of the music he is producing. I Wouldn’t you just love to slip up beside him and watch him jump as | I he sees you? Then how much you would enjoy the Kentucky ballads | I that he might sing if you begged hard enough! I think I would ask | I him to sing from Henry Fuson’s Ballads of the Kentucky Hiffhlands, a | 3 wonderful selection of old ballads. Of course the old fiddler could 1 I never sing them all, for the book contains over two hundred songs. I i Don’t you want to look them over? Ballads of the Kentucky High- | j lands is on the “Have You Read These?” table in the library. | I The Story of Siegfried James Baldwin j I Fathers and Sons Ivan Turgeneff = I Ballads of the Kentucky Highlands Henry Fuson | THIS GIVING BUSINESS Our present custom of Christmas giving has several interesting origins but the rudimentary principal of the whole system is the fact that people just have to give, in other words, they feel the urge. The Egyptians, Israelites and even those highly colored African tribes in ages far re moved knew how to pull the strings which would place them m favor with their kings. The old Romans, all of whom weren’t really old at all, had the terrible habit of thrusting gifts upon their most honorable and all-powerful senators at the most in opportune time. In fact, the habit was so terrible that, in order to avoid confusion, they chose New Year’s Day as the definite time for bestow ing gifts. The idea was wonderful and soon everybody began to receive and give gifts. But, alas, one New Year’s Day Claudius awol e and found no gift; so he, having the welfare of the citizens at heart—as any good old Roman should, made a law that gifts could be actually demanded on the appointed day but on no other day during the year. ’Of course the Romans are respon sible for the presence of such a cus- Great Britain. When the Roman conquerors went to Great Britain they missed their New Year’s gift the first year and in order to feel more at home they decided the kind hearted Anglo-Saxons could do well by a little friendly exchange. From England the custom began to spread travelled all over Europe about t as gossip does around girls’ colleges or any other high-minded in stitutions. Now, most authorities say that Christmas gifts were invented to take the place of New Year’s gifts just be cause somebody got it into his head that New Year’s gifts were pagan- istic. Then again there are those who say that our present system comes di rectly from the Priest’s box affair which took place every Christmas in the early Roman era. But let’s let Rome be for a time, and just take it for granted that for once most author ities are correct. The whole change from New Year to Christmas came about by the di vine inspiriation of two saints, St. Augustine and Chrysostom. The form er called New Year’s gifts diabolical, and the latter,, for no good reason at all except for the drive to win ap proval, said the custom of New Year made gift giving a Satanic ex travagance. Certainly, these early divines could not stand for such a thing as abolishment of the custom, so they collaborated by the means of necromantic telepathy and decided that Christmas gifts would be sub stitutes for the New Year’s gifts. The advantage was that Christmas gifts should carry the abstraction of good will, generosity and kindliness. The decision was accepted and today the custom of giving New Year’s gifts Thus, as a little advice, this Christ mas when your friends give you the accustomed lovely gifts (i. e., un less the depression is leaving to big an impression) just remember that they don’t do it on account of any great altruistic sentiment. It’s not so nice to think of, but the fact is that they are giving because their grand mothers gave, because their great great grandmoters gave, because the Roman conquerors thought the Eng lish people might do better if they did as the Romans did. —Elinor Phillips. The Seat of Success “Please tell me,” begs a reader, “what’s this ‘destiny’ which they say ‘shapes our ends?’ ” “We’re not certain,” says the Edi tor, “but it used to be our mother’s hairbrush and our dad’s slipper.”

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