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Page Two. THE SALEMITE Wednesday, October 17, 1934. ^alemite Member Southern Inter-Collegiate Press Association Published Weekly by the Student Body of Salem College SUBSCRIPTION PRICE $2.00 a Year :: 10c a Copy MR. AND MRS. PREXY VISIT CHICAGO EDITORIAL STAFF Editor- In-Chief Cortlandt Preston Associate Editors:— Elizabeth Gray Virginia Garner Erika Marx Feature Editors:— Carolyn Diehl Jo Whitehead Senior Feature Editors: Mary Penn Libby Jerome Martha Binder Margaret McLean Elizabeth Reeves (Exchange) Emma Wargo (Chapel) Wall Poetry Editor;— Margaret Reporters;— Louise Freeman Anna Ray Fogle Mary Louise Haywood Gertrude Schwalbe Martha Schlegel Ruth Kuykendall Sarah Ingram Libby Torrence Babby Way Mary Mathews Nancy Schallert Mary Lib Dobbms Margaret Calder Helen Smith business STAFF Busin'” Manager Susa ^Rawlings Key coun^ Brown ADVERTISING STAFF Martha Nolan Virginia Fraley Mary Daniel Eloise Sample Mary Coleman Henderson Martha Coons Eleanor Matheson Louise Preas Rachel Carroll Ruth Eiuot MUSIC A LA CARTE After you have just heard a won derful concert (something like our North Carolina Symphony Orchestra programs), did you ever stop to think why you enjoyed it as you did? “Of course,” you say, “it was because there was beautiful harmony, skil fully played, that’s why I liked it! ” Now I’d be willing to bet that if the same one who arranged those pro grams hadn’t had a nice sense of bal ance you would have been singing a different tune. But fortunately these conductors are smarter than we are. They know that planning a musical program is something like planning a menu the principle of which is balance. Wouldn’t you hate to choose a meal containing nothing but beef steak, or the other extreme, one made up en tirely of Chess tarts t You probably wouldn’t like it any better than you would a program consisting of noth ing but heavy, thought inspiring pieces or one of fanciful, elegant little pieces of melody. It’s the beef steak, the tarts, and the inter mediate dishes all together that make for an interesting meal—and just 80, its the heavier, sombre pieces, the gay melodies, and the in termediates in music that make for an interesting program. Well, all of us realize the above and agree to it heartily while we are in the concert halls. But the minute we return to our room and switch on our radios—it’s seems to be horse of a different color with us. Sad to say, I’m afraid we’re guilty of eating mostly tarts. And ,we’re just like the boy whose mother didn stop him from gobbling up all the jam, we’ll keep on nibbling tarts ’til we’re reduced, more than likely, to some sort of mania or nervous prostration. Don’t you think it would be better to throw in a beef steak or maybe a dish of spinach now and then when we turn our dial? It certainly would be healthier for our brains—and ^v^io knows after an occasional appetizing dish, we might even get so we prefer the main courses to the sweets? WHO? Has a stuffed alligator, live turtle and a string of star fish in her room? Received a “Duke Blue Devil” in the mail the other day? Hates to ride in rumble seats go ing to a ballgamet Said, “Well, where’s Tookie?’ Likes caramel colored cars? It was a warm and balmy after noon and our first thrill was await ing us when we stepped into the air- cooled Pullman on the Norfolk and Western and sank back on grey green cushions in a cool grey car. The drawing room was done in old rose. Dr. Bondthaler was inordinately proud of the whole get-up and boast ed a good deal about “our road,” since many moons ago when he was a youth he helped to survey this very road bed; at least the first sixty miles were his and I must confess that this stretch is very curvy. A great part of the way through sunny Ohio and Indiana we rode de lightedly on the observation platform just as Mr. and Mrs. Roosevelt do on their private ear. However, there were no speeches from the platform forthcoming and no eager crowds. For once Dr. Rondthaler was re strained from speaking! At Richmond, Indiana, we craned our necks to catcli a glimpse of Earl- ham College where Dr. Anscombe spent some of his early teaching and preaching years and where, I think, he first met Mrs. Anscombe and did some successful courting. Indiana is pastoral indeed, full of grassy fields and banks of purple asters and goldenrod waving at us as we flew by. Hundreds of sheep and thousands of big pigs and baby pigs dot the fields. In fact for a time we saw pigs waving their tails amidst deep fields of clover. Either they were a new variety of pigs or else they could not rstrain their joy over the rising price of pork. In the huge Chicago station, hun dreds and hundreds of absorbed peo ple hurried past but they were all the most every-dayish sort of folks with seemingly simple next-door- neighborish qualities — not one of them looked the bandit or the thug. And nobody mentioned Dillinger. Of course the papers were mentioning Insull, which was, after all, a fam ily matter for the city of Chicago. Our taxi whisked us to the largest hotel in the world. Three thousand rooms it has, and we were without ceremony hurled up in an elevator to the eighteenth floor and plumped into room 1830 like two small atoms in the Milky Way. But all of this was only prelim inary to the real thrill, the moment when The World’s Century of Prog ress should burst upon us in all its aspects for better of for worse. And then it came, rushing into and filling every sense with astonishment, pro test, acceptance, wonder, laughter, in- crjbduKty, /i^ieutific, I)latant, deli cately beauteous and monstrous. Yet how we revelled in it all. Flags snapping in the Lake air, bridges, ramps, wide winding stairs, water, gondolas, flower boxes, shifting beams of blue, magenta and rose terra cotta light, strings of stars above, Amos and Andy jelowljr crawling through the air, Kingfish and Light nin’ cautiously following them, mus ic, fountain colors changing to the vibrations of music, robots gruesome- ly rising and talkig, radio transmit ting power, wary “electric eyes” do ing unbelievable things, people living in a glass house, a man swallowing firelira,'nds, 'vlplvet-bodiced Belgian maidens skating on ice in the sun shine, the Materhorn and the Jung frau Jooming down ,upon painted fountains of Berne, merrie Will Shakespeare’s troupe and good Queen Bess herself before our very eyes with her whole train of vassals, a fountain pouring forth 100,000 gallons of water per minute and streaked across with delicious rose and orchid and flame floating with white angelic mist rising and falling; a farmer rocking on his porch and reading the evening paper and con trolling the tractor in his front yard with radio, an illuminated transpar ent man reaching his arms to the sky and pleasantly showing us all his nerves and blood vessels, the warm soft red of the Science Build ing, the cool alluring blue of the Electrical Building, the swanky yellow and black and silver of the Motors Building; and bells, chimes and singing voices and merry calls intermingle through it all. Where wore we? In the land of Oz or Down the Rabbit Hole? At any rate we were enchanted and the only thing that brought us to earth was that right in the midst of all this fairy land we suddenly met a IP C IE T K y ^ “It is absurd to think that the only way to tell if a poem is lasting is to wait and see if it lasts. The right reader of a good poem can tell the moment it strikes him that he has taken an immortal woiind—that he will never get over it. That is to say, permanence in poetry as in love is perceived instantly. It hasn’t to await the test of time ... A living poem begins with a lump in the throat; a homesickness or a lovesickness. It is a reaching out toward expression, an effort to find fulfillment. A complete poem is one where an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found the words.” SENIOR GOSSIP A BROOK IN THE CITY The farm house lingers, though averse to square With the new city street it has to wear A number in. But what about the brook That held the house as in an elbow crook? I ask as one who knew the brook, its strength And impulse, having dipped a fin ger length And made it leap my knuckle, having tossed A flower to try its currents where they crossed. The meadow grass could be ce mented down From growing under pavements of a town; The apple trees be sent to hearth stone plane. Is water wood to serve a brook the same? How else dispose of an immortal force No longer needed? Staunch it at its source With cinder loads dumped down? The brook was thrown Deep in a sewer dungeon under stone In feted darkness still to live and •—Robert Frost. run— And all for nothing I had ever done Except forget to go in fear per haps No one would know except for ancient maps That such a brook ran water. But I wonder If from its being kept forever under, These thoughts may not have risen that so keep This new-built city from both work and sleep.” —Robert Frost. “All heaven and earth are still— though not in sleep. But brotherless, as we grow when feeling wast, And silent, as we stand in thoughts too deep:— All heaven and earth are still; the high lost Of stars, to the lull’d lake and mountain-coast, All is concenter’d in a life intense, Where not a beam, nor air, nor leaf is lost, But both a part of being, and a sense. Of that which is of all Creator and defense.” —Lord Byron. From Childe Harold, Canto III Salem girl. There she was, real as a Salem girl w'ould be, with her tall, serious architect husband and all the way from Texas. None other than Leonora Wilder Kankin with her same enigmatical smile. And what do you think she said? “Is Kath erine Riggan still there?” Happily we answered: “Of course she is.” Four perfect days and then the air-cooled train again. As we stepped off the car in Winston-Salem, the porter said: “Hope you-all en joyed your trip,” and WE DID. Before we could unpack our bags in the President’s House, here came four more Salem girls to see us. •lust imagine Catherine Moragne all the way from the Hawaiian Isles and accompanied in state by that delightful Mt. Airy trio, Nina Hoff man, Virginia Martin and Edith Claire Leake. Salem girls circle the globe. After all the World’s Fair is passing, but Salem girls are always the same the world over. —Mrs. Prexy. FRESHMEN SOCIETY Pat Padrick’s brother. Bill, Ray Fanning and Rodney Breese, stud ents from the Citadel in Charleston, S. C., were dinner guests at the col lege Saturday night. Uniforms seem to make quite a hit around here. “Ginger” Piper has made a hit with a certain young man who called not only on Saturday night but on Sunday afternoon as well. Katherine May was the dinner guest of Elizabeth and Gene Mot- singer Saturday night. She also at tended a party given in honor of her father Wednesday night in Burl ington. Helen Smith attended the wedding rehearsal and party given Friday night in Mt. Airy for Rachel Bray, former Salem student. Louise York spent the week-end at her home in High Point. Mildred Carter and Mary Jackson visited in Mount Airy Sunday. Garvin May, from Carolina, and SALEM ACADEMY DOINGS Flowers have an expression of countenance as much as men or ani mals. Some seem to smile; some have a sad expression; some are pensive and diffident; others again are plain, honest and upright, like the broad faced sunflower and the holly hock. Henry Ward Beecher. During our fifth week at the Academy, one of the most interest ing events was the Historic walk on wliich Dr. Rondthaler acted as the guide. The place of interest was the museum where we were taken back to the first years of the life at Salem. We learned that the city originally began with 13 inhabitants who made the walls of their homes from red clay and straw, and fash ioned all their own rakes, axes, scythes, and kitchen utensils. We saw the old one-horse carriage owned by John Vogler in which he drove from Salem to Baltimore in one month. The first fire engine (1784), a pump with a long nozzle, equipped with leather buckets, is most unique. After luncheon on Friday, the fol lowing girls: Ethel Young of For est City, N. C.; Katherine Johnson, of Winston-Salem, N. C.; Pasy Hill, of Waynesville, N. C.; Mary Louise McClendon, of Greensboro, N. C.; Lady Kate Allen, of Jefferson City, Tenn.; Dorothy Everett, of Brevard, N. C.; Betty McNair, of Larchmont, N. Y., and Katherine Read, of Mc- Minneville, Tenn., were given en velopes containing a summons to ap pear “where the cypress sticks its knees up” after classes in the aft ernoon. There the group was duly initiated, after which ice cream and cakes were passed around. —Patsy Hill. The novelty of private showers, real beds, private telephones, and the other luxuries of Louisa Bitting seems to have worn off. Why the Seniors simply take the above men tioned items as matters of course, and sail glithely otf for little jaunts up to New York, Charleston, and other points near and far, leaving Senior Hall almost deserted. Now there is that Wilmington bunch. Evidently local boys do not please, for off went Rachel and Jane to Raleigh last week-end with W’^illie Brewer Myers, to look over the stu dent, body of State College. Were they successful? Ask them! Also included in the party were Martha Neal, singing, “Though my body rides to Raleigh, my heart flies to Texas land,” and Fanny Hill re peating, “If one plan doesn’t work out, try, try another!” When the (doctor’s away, this sweetheart will play. Florence has gone home for two week-ends in suc cession. Just how long will he be away, we ask you? Dot has absolutely neglected Thomasville for the past two weeks. What will people say The week end before last she didn’t go home until Sunday and the past week-end she and Frances Adams dashed off to Monroe! ‘Ginny’ Nall, blonde knock-’em dead of present Senior Class favored her college by a short visit Satur day and Sunday. We miss you, Jinny. Hurry back. And wo like Leslie Poe, too. Bring him with you, or let him bring you, or however you all arrange it. By the way, wonder if Mary Penn and Cokey will condescend to speak to Jinny. After all, the former spent the week-end before last at V. P. I. while the latter jaunted off to little old New York City for the strong end-lasting from Friday ’till Tues day! Julia Lee is having such a grand time going to announcement parties rehearsals, and weddings up in Mount Airy that she can’t take time off to fight the Hundred Year’s War with Dr. Anscombe. Guess the bat tles will be lost! This little item should be in the headlines of an extra. Has anyone noticed how lonely, bewildered, and absolutely neglected the science lab. appears this fall? The reason is that M. J. has turned frivolous and spends Saturday afternoons and nights play ing!! ‘ ‘ Knock- ’em dead English Teach er Gracie, not to be downed by school boys and girls, declared that she earned her week-end at Statesville, after struggling with compound sen tences and weak subjects. South Carolina may be down to some people, but it was up in a big way for Martha Binder over the week-end! Those blonde Colemans aren’t so bad, either, are they Anne? Roger Harper came to see Mildred Troxler and Ann Busick Saturday night. Grace Parker, Jane Boren and Edith Sappenfleld spent Sunday in Greensboro. Mary Woodruff attended the Duke- Georgia Tech game Saturday. It may make a difference to all eternity whether we do right or wrong today. James Freeman Clarke. Don’t part with your illusions. When they are gone you may still exist, but you have ceased to live. “I would rather have a big burden and a strong back than a weak back and a caddy to carry life’s luggage.” —Elbert Hubbard. ’ROUND AND ABOUT WITH SOPHS AND JUNIORS It’s enough to make anybody jealous, Virginia Gaddey going to Duke to see the Georgia Tech game and then to all of those elegant dances, but the last straw is when she comes sailing in Sunday night raving about that handsome actor, Randolph Scott, and just think, she danced witli the hero! I supi>ose she’ll be content to stay with us awhile now, and live with her past. Goodness but Margaret Calder was glad to see her sisters, Susan and l^lizabeth, when they arrived unex- l>ectedly Saturday. It was like the “good ole d.ays” having Susie P’s magnetic personality in our midst once more. Sara Thompson and Virginia Gough went up to spend the week end liu Roaiw)ke, Vifginila, while Frances Salley and .Tane Crow w'ent over to spend the week-end in Mocks- ville. Baxter is around agai:n, this time he had Margaret Calder and Mari anna Redding out to Sunday din ner! How’s that for Baxter, or should I say for Margaret and Mari anna, wo wonder which one had the power. Bessie Lou Bray was maid of honor in her sister Rachel’s wedding Saturday night in Mt. Airy, and Bev erly Little was one of the bride’s (CONTINUED ON PAGE FOUR)
