North Carolina Newspapers

    Page Two.
Wednesday, January 16, 1935.
Member Southern Inter-Collegiate
Press Association
Published Weekly by the Student
Body of Salem College
$2.00 a Year 10c a Copy
Editor-in-Chief Margaret Calder
Associate Editors:—
Josephine Whitehead
Sara Ingram
Marianna Redding
Feature Editors:—
Libby Torrence
Carolyn Diehl^
Arnice Topp (Chapel)
Mary Hart (Exchange)
Poetry Editor:—
Mary Louise Haywood
Louise Freeman
Mary Frances Hayworth
Ethel Highsmith ffl
Ruth Norman
Rose Siewers
Catherine Sissell
Sara Thompson
Helen Diehl
Mary Ruth Elliot
Margaret Stafford
Business Manager .Agnes Browh
Adv. Manager Susan Rawlings
Exchange Mgr Virginia Key Council
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.
Among the foothills of The Western
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
'J'ho water is no longer in restless
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
—Chang Chi.
There was a young lady named
\Vho was “up in the air” a great
'Till suddenly there came
A Texan aeroplane.
Which landed on her flying field.
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.
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
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
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
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.
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
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 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
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’t done just in that way!
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,
Miss Stockton—“Clear — clear to
Gannelle—‘ ‘ Honestly— ’ ’
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.
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
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.
Dear Dr. Soph,
Where can I find the man I love?
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
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”
There was a young lady named
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).
By Sara Teasdale
My window-pane is starred with
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
My room is like a bit of June,
Warm and close-curtained fold on
But somewhere, like a homeless
My heart is crying in the cold.

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