Page Two. THE SALEMITE Wednesday, January 16, 1935. Member Southern Inter-Collegiate Press Association Published Weekly by the Student Body of Salem College “SUBSCRIPTION PRICE $2.00 a Year 10c a Copy SOPHOMORE EDITORIAL STAFF Editor-in-Chief Margaret Calder Associate Editors:— Josephine Whitehead Sara Ingram Marianna Redding Feature Editors:— Libby Torrence Carolyn Diehl^ Columnists:— Arnice Topp (Chapel) Mary Hart (Exchange) Poetry Editor:— Mary Louise Haywood Reporters:— Louise Freeman Mary Frances Hayworth Ethel Highsmith ffl Ruth Norman Rose Siewers Catherine Sissell Sara Thompson Helen Diehl Mary Ruth Elliot Margaret Stafford BUSINESS STAFF Business Manager .Agnes Browh Adv. Manager Susan Rawlings Exchange Mgr Virginia Key Council ADVERTISING STAFF Martha Nolan' Virginia Fraley ■ Mary Daniel Eloise Sample ^ary Coleman Henderson Martha Coons Eleanor Matheson Louise Preas Circulation Mgr Rachel Carroll Ass’t Cir. Mgr - Mary Ruth Elliot “Extra! Extra! Sophomores win Basketball Championship!” If you Sophomores wouK like to have this dream realized and to hear those words shouted on the street, don’t sit in your rooms hoping you can win witliout flickering an eye lash. The “hut” invites you to prac tice five days a week. Tuesdays and Tliuradays have been set aside in special commemoration of the Sopho mores who went out to practice last year but won’t do so this year. Miss “At” has tried gallantly to teach the triangular defense to the two Sophomores who managed to come down at the same time; but common sense and geometry tell me that a triangle must have three sides. So at five o’clock on Tuesdays and Tliursdays, Miss “At” is going to undertake to coach all the Sopho mores who are going to mob the gym from now on. There was a time when we could bo lazy and get by on the excuse that we were adolescents, but “time and tide wait for no” adolescent and here we are in the year 1935— ^;rown-up young ladies with no ex cuse available. You wil have to admit that when vou get ill the midst of a basket ball practice game you hav^e so much fun tliat you forget you are fulfilling a duty to your class. Pollyanna says that it is not too late for the Sophomores to practice up and come out ou the top. Fellow- classmen, there are headlines three inches high dangling before our eyes. Let’s get to work. THE MOUNTAIN LAKE Among the foothills of The Western mountains My boat idles gently on the flow- in stream, And in the lengthening shadows of the sunset The sail seems to flap of its own accord. 'J'ho water is no longer in restless motion. My boat is moored by the green rushy bank. The moon slowly rises over the edge of the lake And a soft light diffuses the silent world. —Chang Chi. There was a young lady named Xeal \Vho was “up in the air” a great deal, 'Till suddenly there came A Texan aeroplane. Which landed on her flying field. FROM MY DIARY Tuesday, January 10. It was really June in January to day. I went down on lower campus and sat on the stone steps where I could see “Class Memorial, 1896” with my left eye and “Class 1933” with mj' right. A soft wind was drifting through the branches of the towering spruce tree. It twitched the brown leaves on the ground and made the ivy leaves quiver. But the sun! It was so very warm. I turned to look at the ivy growing on the gray stone wall, and there I saw— but I’ll keep that just for me to re member. Over each tiny spider w-eb, stretched across the leaves, the sun was sending little dots and dashes of light! A message for me. Every thing was so peaceful and quiet that I scarcely noticed the tinkling tones of the piano at the Academy, the shrill tone of a telephone, the clank ing of dishes in the kitchen, the rum ble of cars passing on the highway. Rising, I walked down the path at the left. The corner of the wall un der the big “Breath of Spring” bush reminded me of a little garden I once built in the woods near home -^in the spring. I walked between the box wood bushes—they rustled like taffeta. There was a rush of whirring wings, I turned and saw a red bird. I retraced my footsteps. Eegret my few stolen minutes? No, gaily we ran up the steps—my singing heart and I. EXAMS NO HINDRANCE The girls are still on the merry- go-round with exams, just around the two week corner—but who cares about such little trifles as these, when we can go out or have some body in? Sophomores are making time go by in manners that follows through this line .... Tick Fraley was seen in the parlor with a young man and later I just by accident! happened to see her name on the sheet in the office saying she was riding with some Mr. until 5:30. Beverly Little went to Greensboro with an escort, why for? I really can’t think of a reason! Virginia Gaddy is geting to be one of the best little blonds, she has been to church about four times in the last two Sundays with Mrs. Bagby and the family (son Howell included!) The .second floor troup was out on duty Sunday afternoon Martha Xolen, Frankie Meadows, Jo Klutz, and Margaret Sears rode until the supper bell called in their troupe-e! '.'ary Louise Haywood had all of the ’'ighlights her way this week by at tending the much talked about Glenn Grey dance at tlie Robert E. Lee [•'riday night. Many a sigh was made on “the first star bright” that night to go to the dance, but I fear no one believes in the star wish anv more, exce]>t Mary Lou! How ever, first floor was in an uproar of oxcitement when Frances Cole and Lou Freeman called the hotel and risked to speak to Kenneth Sargent, but his secretary said he would give t!ie message of our thanks to Mr. Sargent for singing ‘ ‘ For You ’ ’ for us. Goodness me, what popular sen iors! Betty Tuttle got the best thriller of them all when Harry came all the way down from Washington City to see her Sundaj' night when she was all dres.sed up in a new black dress with lovely, fetching, white colors and cuffs. I heard one of her worshiping Freshmen say—“Betty looks like a doll! ’’ Tragic episodes are many but the one of Dot and Jo. up on third was a headliner. These two made bets that one could eat more than the other and as a result, Saturday night thej' weren’t in such high spirits. With the Sohpomores in such a lead the Freshmen, Juniors and Sen iors have done nothing of partic ular importance except the few men- tfoned above. Most of the folks seeking higher educations are sadly in need of the lower. SOPHOMORE PORTRAITS H. Jo Whitehead—Rocky Mount’s fair cup cake. A lady of innumer able talents. However, to shine more brightly in her category than any others. The arts of whistling and writing poetry are unquestion ably hers. Who will ever forget the night when. “Until next Friday night We ’11 cease all this strife. And never again shall we fight.” came forth ? Truly a genius. Lead er of that bright and shining class of Sophomores. This alone would prove her renown Also a master at training rat.s. She has them eating out of her hand, but she refuses to capitalize. Ask her if she likes chocolate mint cakes and who won the contest. An invincible guard in basketball. Theme song — “Jimmy Had a Xickle. ” Tick Fraley—A prodigy at the piano. Isn’t that the rarest thing! May be known by her nonchalant, unconcerned air. Also the hair streaming in the breeze. Well known in the vicinity of Guilford County for her frequent appearances at dances in Greensboro, High Point, and Sedgefeld, where, to quote one smitten young swain, ‘ ‘ She goes to town.” Fluent conversationalist in French. Ask her about Les Miser- ables. Plays with the same indiffer ence mentioned before, but the re- .■iults will nigh reach the divine. A tennis player of no mean ability, a gi-anite goal guard in hockey, and anything you want her to be in basketball. Theme Song—“Blame It on My Youth.” Lou Freeman. We are informed one morning with a beaming smile that “six people from Windsor were kill ed in a wreck near Wake Forest. Isn’t that terrible?” We agree. Truly a belle of the Old South. Male.s grovel in the dust at her feet. Oak Uidge, Carolina, Wake Forest, Hargraves, and now Davidson pay homage to the queen. Also does right well for herself at a dance. FrieiJds were informed the other day, “One thing certain, nobody in niy wedding is going to look any better than I do.” We believe it. .\Itliough she does have some good- looking friends. Sister Pearl should be found. Did you know Alice Vir ginia was going to Bermuda for Easter? Watch the red streak. Theme Song—P. S. I Love Y’ou. 'I Mary Lou. One of our star day students. Superlative student en tertains Mr. Campbell in biology lab. by comments on last night’s con cert or vocal renditions of latest song hits. Is envied among us be cause she actually went to the dance Friday night. Always unworried, and we might add, unhurried. Never at a loss for anything to say. A mueh-to-be-lesired-trait. Interest ing, popular, a “cute girl.” Theme song—“I’ve Got an Invitation to a Dance. ’ ’ Ethel .1. Highsmith. Fayetteville’s pride and joy. Ethel’s such a gweet girl. So nice to old people. Known chiefly at the moment for her un believable power—namely that to cause the Navy to fall hook, line, and sinker to the extent of a ring, r. picture, and what not. Doesn’t do so terribly ata dance either. Is a ittle too quick for most of us. Al ways on time for classes. Packs awfully well. Never forgot any thing. Has a vile temper. Easily irritated. Dances badly. See the pic ture of the Navy. Oswald looks too sweet. He learned about Santy Claus. Ask her about the message received from a certain J. D. Mc Lean. Poor Henry. Theme Song— “Anchors A weigh. ” No race is over till the last yard’s run, ‘ No game is ever lost—until it’s won, A fire is never dead While the ashes are still red, Nor the sun set in the skies until The day is done. —Margaret Pedler. Too often reciprocity means do ing things to the other fellow you would rather he wouldn’t do to you. A STEIN, BUT NOT OF BEER “A little aw'ay And a little away Everything aw-ay Everything and away Everything and away Away everything away.” Hey, wait a minute I’m not go ing away yet. That’s just a i»oem (?) by Miss Gertrude Stein. Please don’t be frightened. The fact is that the girls on first have suddenly be came very literary-minded on the subject of poetry (again ?). This means, of course, the poetry (ditto ?) of Gertie. And, my dear, it’s all on account of a letter. The recipi ents of the said inscription (a cer tain group of gals who spent the Thanksgiving holidays in a certain mountain town) were thrilled prac tically to death, for although this document contained a great deal of raving about town topics, the said women were most interested in the following luscious bit a la Stein: Thought I’d drop a line Feeling fine, real fine Everybody’s fine, family fine, W'eather is fine, for you I pine, Pine tree, tree, Joyce Kilmer, Dig a mine, still feeling fine, Gertrude Stein, iliss Lilly very willingly submitted her book “ Contemfwraries and Snabs” to the course, and I’m sure she hopes the study of this “^New Barbarism” will show us girls what it is to be barbaric for she has al ready said that chewing gum in class was anathema to her. This movement has had a serious effect on the minds of some students. For in.stance if Miss Cole wanted to buy some crackers from the “Y” Store this is what she would prob ably say: Crackers, crackers, Graham crackers, Graham crackers, Graham, North Carolina, Elizabeth Moore, more Crackers, Polly wants a cracker. Miss Stein’s style has also been referred to as the “babble” lan guage and since it is about as com prehensible as baby talk, the name suits it very well I think. In her recent essay “ Comi>o9ition as Explanation,” Miss Stein re marked : “After all this, there is that there has been that that there is a compo- •sition and that nothing changes ex cept composition the composition and the time of and the time in compo sition.” There was a lassie of N. S. F. A. Who could pronounce Barnes the right way And you should hear her stutter And get all in a flutter. When it i.sn’t done just in that way! FAMOUS QUOTATIONS Have You Heard? Abe Lincoln—^“Who stole my tur key sign.” Grace Parker — “Aw Ann, shut up! ” Elizabeth Moore—“Drat it!” Sissy Lee—“Goodness Gracious!” Jane W'illiams—‘ ‘ Lelia! ’ ’ Martha Binder—“Bokey is com- ing! ” Miss K. Smith—“As a matter of fact ...” Mr. Campbell—“. . . and iil ad dition ...” Dr. Rondthaler—“Hymn number 67(i”—(Faith of Our Fathers). Miss Lilly—“Y’'ou’re excused.” Miss Lawrence—“See me at one- thirty in the office.” Procter Mary Hart—“Sh-h-h! ” Mr. Curlee—“The product of x and y is equal to xy times o.” Dean Vardell—“I want to remind you ...” Miss At—“Do you think you look like Mae West?” Miss Leftwich—“Now, are there any questions girls?” M. Cassel (in lab.)—“Come here, Mr. Campbell.” R. Brame—“I’ve got to chaperone again!’ ’ Dot Hutaff—“Keep smiling—ha, ha!” Miss Stockton—“Clear — clear to everyone?” Gannelle—‘ ‘ Honestly— ’ ’ CHAPEL NOTES (CONTINUED FROM PAGE ONE) about joining Christianity and work. Had Christ been a rabbi, Christianity would have been something different. It was fitting that He should have been a carpenter because His follow ers are working men, and the work shop was part of His training for He had to be a disciple and learn the lessons He would teach. Present tests are for future trusts, and if we are faithful today, we will be re warded tomorrow. MEN’S BIBLE CLASS SELECTS BAHNSON HEAD (CONTINUED FROM PAGE ONE) carrying on “the program of co-op- eration with our fellow-men.” He referred to the friendly relations of Moravians and Methodists. John Fries Blair, retiring presi dent, in his report, reviewed the work of the class during the past year. Other reports were heard from J. N. Plaster, secretary; Gilbert M. Cofer, treasurer, and I. H. Eider, for the relief fund. Bishop J. K. Pfohl spoke briefly on the co-operation of the class with congregational work. Paul G. Bahnson was elected pre.si- dent of the class and Dr. Howard E. Rondthaler was elected teacher. Sugar cake, coffee, and orangeade were served at the conclusion of the meeting. DR. SOPH ADVISES Dear Dr. Soph, Where can I find the man I love? Titter. Dear Titter, Go \Vesty, my friend. Dr. Soph. Dear Dr. Soph, I am perturbed. Last week when I was dating the man of the moment and all was going well, in burst an old flame, around whose blonde head the halo of romance still gli.stens beguilingly. What shall I do? Cokey, the Coquette. Dear Cokey, Even if you are burning up with love, never make a fuel of yourself. Dr Soph. Dear Dr. Soph, I am lovesick. What would you advise? Miserable Mariana. Dear Mariana, Try some Herb tea. Dr. Soph. Dear Dr. Soph, They laugh when I swoon at the sight of pineapple. What shall I do? Daffy Dot. Dear Dot, ■Tust keep smiiing. Ha! Ha! Dr. Soph. P. S-—You might try “bailing out” too. There was a young lady named Jerome, Who won much fame by writing a ‘ ‘ t>ome ’ ’— Her painting too, won power “From the “Home Church Tower” (The subject wos Dr. Rondthaler’s * dome). A WINTER NIGHT By Sara Teasdale My window-pane is starred with frost. The world is bitter cold tonight The moon is cruel, and the wind Is like a two-edged sword to smite. God pity all the homeless ones. The beggars pacing to and fro, God pity all the poor tonight Who walk the lamp-lit streets of snow. My room is like a bit of June, Warm and close-curtained fold on fold. But somewhere, like a homeless child. My heart is crying in the cold.