Page Two.
THE SAL E M I T E
Friday, February 19, 1943.
Published Weekly By The Student Body f
Published Weekly By The Student Body
of Salem College
Member Southern Inter-Collegiate Press Association
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CaiCAOO ■ BOITOB • UM AHILCS • SAI FM»CM«0
■ Editor-In^Chief - Ceil Nuchols
Associate Editor Whittier
Associate Editor Katherine Manning
Make-up Editor ^est
EDITORIAL
Music Editor
Sports Editor
French Editor
Mildred Avera
Margaret Bullock
Rosalind Clark
Ethel Halpern
Barbara Humbert
Frances Jones
Senora Lindsey
Sarah Merritt
Lucille Newman
L
AND FEATURE STAFF
Margaret Leinbach
Joy Flanagan
Lib Bernhardt
Peggy Nimocks
Mary Louise Rhodes
Doris C. Schaum
Julia Smith
Nancy Stone
Helen Thomas
Katherine Traynham
Margaret Winstead
Kathryn Wolif
ois Wooten
BUSINESS DEPARTMENT
Business Manager Mary Margaret Struven
Ass’t Business Manager Mary Elizabeth Bray
Advertising Manager Betty Moore
Circulation Sara Bowen, Ellen Stucky
ADVERTISING STAFF
Margy Afoore, Elizabeth Beckwith, Katie Wolff,
Jane Willis, Nancy Vaughn, Corrinne Faw, Martha
Sherdod, Becky Candler, Adole Chase, Nancy McClung,
Sarah Lindley, Allene Seville, Elizabeth Griffin, Har
riet Sutton, Ruth O’Neal, Yvonne Pheli>s, Elizabeth
Bernhardt. Edith Shapiro.
OPEN FORUM
Dear Editor:
Last week you printed an editorial about
the al)sence of suggestions for legislative
■changes. In this editorial, we were labeled
“indilferent to our government.” We were
asked if we had the right to complain of “out
moded” rules in the face of our apparent
lack of interest ... if we were worthy of a
student legislature. AVell, I’d like to answer
these charges from the point of view of what
is perhaps the minority group.
Why didn’t we propose new legislation? or
changes in old rules? For just this reason.
Dear Editor: we have made countless sugges
tions before . . . suggestions which seemed to
us to be perfectly reasonable and in accord
with progress made by other women’s col
leges. We fought for rules that would place
a greater part of the responsibility for our
conduct on our own shoulders instead of on
the shoulders of the faculty, the administra
tion, and the deans. We fought for the recog-
notion that we were adults who had the pow
er of discretion . . , that we were no longer
*
babies who needed to be told when to go to
bed and when to come in and where to go and
what to do. Yet all the w'hile, we realized
the necessity for some rules and some protec
tion . . . some guarantee to our parents that
we wouldn’t be simply turned loose on the
world. And with what results? We were
laughed at; we were called “Radical”; we
were accused of agitating revolution. The
legislature felt that we weren’t even capable
of knowing when to turn off our lights. I’d
like to ask you, then:' if the privilege of de
ciding for ourselves when to go bed was de
nied us, is there any possible hope that we’ll
be granted other privileges? We are discour
aged and disillusioned. We know that any
suggestions we “Bolshevists” might make
would receive scoffed-at treatment or no treat
ment at all.
So, Dear Editor, we “Radicals” made no
suggestions; and there you may account for
at least one group of students ... a very small
group, I dare say. As for the lack of sugges
tions from other groups? Well, it seems that
the writing on the wall indicates, no indiffer
ence, but a content with the rules as they are.
So aren’t all of us justified in not seeking
change ?
A Skeptic.
WJiat do you know, Joe? . . . somebody DOES read our editorials!
Saturday’s vocal tribute to Betsy Vanderbilt just plain sot on fire the
cockles (hnimm) of our hearts. W^e thank you, Readers . . . most grate
fully, we thank you.
Chronologically, we should have started with the oh-woe-is-them
department. Poor old faculties! Such whitewashing as Friday night’s
ain’t even decent . . . but we couldn't help it! Although hating to
rub salt into their wounds, we feel it necessary in behalf of revenge
to coo . . . and who, Mr. K'enyon, was going to polish off whom? We
play tiddly-winks, too ... a challenge perhaps?
The dance seems to be time’s next job, and we wish to state here
and now that the A. A. definitely outdid itself. Rarely have we spotted
such quantities of pretty dresses (i. e. Lib Griffin’s black lace, Jennie
Quinn’s black velvet, Elder Wooten’s black net) ... rarely have we
lamped so many men . . ■. and rarely have we taken in better dances
Muchas gracias, Senoritas.
Even Sunday produced a story this week . . . and one that’s too
good not to pass on to those who haven’t heard. It seems that two
spirited Seniors were aroused by some gosh-awful static which disturbed
their Sunday afternoon radio devotional. When they returned from
supper, still in a great gripe because the symphony had been obliterated,
and found that they couldn’t even hear “The Great Gildersleeve” .
that 'was too much! They stormed every room, in Bitting for hair dryers
and electric razors. Upon not apprehending the radio destroyer in the
rooms, they bounded down to the Bottom to swat a knot on whomever
was running Jane Garrou’s movie projector . . . and into the Davidson
Deputation Committee’s expounding they bammed ... in their night
shirts, please! Will S'aleiu ever be able to lift her head from such
chagrin? Tch, tch, tch!
And to Miss Marsh we offer three highly polished flre-flies for
Tuesday’s not at all fifth-rate exposition. After having caught our
selves intrigued with her nice sense of humor and her exceptionally
pleasant voice, what we want to know is . . . why the blaze has she
been buried over there under records and annuals and things all this
time? There have been lots of speakers we’d prefer to have the
alumnae secretary pinch-hit for.
And while we ’re in this generous spirit, we’d like to yah-yah at
all of you who didn’t have the foresight to sign up for Mr. Holder’s
political science or political philosophy or whatever the dickens they
finally wound up calling the course. It’s distinctly one of the more
worthwhile ventures of our academic career . . . but if Main Hall ex
plodes one of these first days, it’s sure to be the juxtaposition of an
archist, socialist, communist, and democrat. We’re just sorry we don’t
have a Nazi to make things really pop.
To Dr. W'illoughby, our sincerost sympathy
glad to have her back.
and we’re awfullj-
And now it’s parting time again; but keep up the stink, Students
. we have to have SOMETHING to throw into this column!
“SPRING WILL BE SO SAD”
Here we are again with the same old prob
lem and the same old story. We have been
called variously “ ditch-diggers, ” “corner
clippers,” and “ornery worms” . . . being an
offender myself, I would choose the latter term.
So we’re worms—so what?
For those of you who are new-comers, I
would like the space to sketch Salem in the
spring for you; but I must merely say that
Spring plays a big part in making Salem a
warm spot in your heart for years to come
. . . the campus, at its: best in a new green
garb, verily inspires the poet in us; makes xis
want to sing; and urges us to go Rousseau-an.
For the old timers, I offer an apology for the
muddle I must have made in your own pri
vate recollections. For all of us, I want to
say—Let’s do our best to keep the campus as
beautiful as possible. And surely the red-
brown edges to the walk past Bitting, the
whole red-bi'own mess in front of Corrin, and
the sundry red-brown trails all over the cam
pus do very littlei to enhance even the winter
bleakness. In a word, we have been unpard-
onably sloppy and thoughtless in wasting the
one thing 0. P. A. is not likely to ration—Na
ture’s contribution ...
Now that winter has really come and we’re
hoping Spring’s not far behind, I’d like to
take a stand in favor of conserving beauty . , .
in this case we can both conserve our pie and
eat it, too. For when we let the grasses grow
up as they should, we shall have a home that’s
powerful inspiring to live in . . . STAY OFF
the GRASS!
—M. B.
THIS IS THE
little red man
This is an Ashflicker
Dear Editor:
Last year the Editor of the Sa-
lemite ran. my picture in the paper
several times and mad© people sorta
realize that I was still around doin’
my dooty. You know my story:
Once upon a time (over a century
ago) there lived in Salem an excep
tionally industrious Moravian Brotli-
er, who' wore red clothes from head
to toe. He worked with the other
unmarried men digging out the cel
lar for their new homes. One night
after the Vespers service was over
he suggested that they go back and
finish the cellar before bedtime.
The others agreed that it was a
good idea. They would dig a while
and then run out from underneath
as masses of earth fell to the floor.
Only one time the Little Bed Man
did not run fast enough and was
buried beneath th« fallen dirt. His
spirit stayed with, the brothers and
still lives in the deep arched cellar
This is the Little Ked
Man looking at
an Ashflicker.
of the Brother’s House across the
square—watching over Salem to see
that all goes well.
Last year I tried to get the stud
ents to rid themselves of the ‘ ‘ Apple
Polishers,” “Ditchr Diggers/’
“Clock Watchers,” and “Salem
Snakes.” That picture you see at
the top of the letter is me watch
ing an “Ashflicker." I know you
don’t see nothin’ but me there.
That’s because an “Ashflicker” is
such a small insignificant creature.
Small though it may ,be, it exists in
large numbers at Salem. It jg one
of those things who is charming
except that it doesn’t know how to
handle a cigarette. It lets ashes fall
where they may, bums holes in the
rugs, her clothes, and those of its
neighbors. Students, I, the Little
Bed Man, warn you that if the Ash
flicker is not educated to better
ways, your smoking privileges are
going to be removed.
WITH YOUR PERMISSION
Dear Editor:
We have noticed that the library on Sat
urday nights is a lonely place, and we won
dered if that time spent by the staff in serving
us couldn’t as well be changed to Sunday
night — or couldn’t the Sunday afternoon
hours be changed to Sunday night? Often
student’s activities run through Sunday aft
ernoon — then Sunday night is spent vainly
wondering why the room-mate forgot to sign
out that book for Monday’s assigiiment.
As we say, we know nothing of the whys
of the present arrangement, but we offer this
suggestion in hopes that it will be possible to
make some change.
Sincerely,
—Interested Students.'
SO LITTLE AND YET SO MUCH
Have you been to the Red Cross Sewing
Room lately? Perhaps you are like we were.
We’d heard a great deal about it. Sponsored
by the Defense Board under the supervision
of the Home Economics Department, it has not
lacked publicity. There have been numerous
announcements in chapel, and posters in con
spicuous places about the campiis, concerning
the Sewing Room. Nevertheless, for some
rea.son or other you have not done anything.
You may think you don’t have time; but there
is an old saying that you can find time for
anything you really want to do. Surely you
could go sometime from three to six on either
Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday. You may
say, What, me sew? Why, I can’t even
thread a needle!” We discovered that there
are other ways to help. You may be hesitat
ing because you are not sure of the location
of the room. It is^^ery easy to find—on the
third floor of Main Hall right above Miss Oov-
ington s apartment—with a big sign on the
door.
Won’t you leave the Smoke House and
those bridge games for a few hours to work
on something that really needs your attention *
We ’U try to do the same! .
—B. W.