Friday, May 7, 1943.
THE SALEMITE
Page Three.
MAY DAY IN RHROSPECT
Another May Day has come and
gone—now we’re quite ready to
“finish up” and welcome the three
■coming lackadaisical months hut
the reminiscences of May Day are
wonderful . . . waking the Queen
at 7:30 with the May Day carol . . •
the early morning chapel on the
lawn—we really love that . - •
ilondthaler . . . sunny faced pansies
. . . sniffling seniors (we had a lump
in our throat too—and we’re only
sophomores) . . . the choral ensem
ble. How long the classes seemed!
Somehow the hours dragged on into
5:30—We really can’t cancel a smile
when we think of that precious pic
ture that Bobbie and Lyna made
under the tree fishing for goodness
knows-what in that little stream.
The gay Spanish music really got
in our blood . . . and then the
dances—how, please, does Edith ^a-
piro make a simple little dance so
uh, noticeable! Oh, to be talented
in dancing—Oh, to be talented!!
The court, our sun-baked beauties,
with their tight bodiced, colorful
dresses really added the Latin touch
—and Barbara—guess you just got
to live right to look that good!
There are queens and queens but,
honestly, when Ceil came walking
down that path we just curled up
inside, eyes wide and mouth a-gap-
ing much in the same manner as the
little three-year-old beside us. We
didn’t dare breathe until she was
safely seated and then the little fel
low next door—still gazing at Ceil
breathlessly exclaimed, “Gee, mom
my, don’eha wish daddy ’us here!
Silence . . . hum-m-m-m-m.
Among the many people-covered
hill who had come to admire our
fairest one were four of our previous
queens—Bill' Fulton, ’39, Louisa
Sloan, ’40, Katherine King, ’41, and
Martha Bowman, ’42. The class of
42 really did themselves proud—28
of them were here to help us cele
brate. And celebrate we did! Sup
per . . . then the dance . . . quite an
affair—flowers—soft pastels — gai?,
bright taffetas and . . . men!!
Swinging and swaying to old rec
ords that sounded new . . . cutting
in—glimpses of faces chartreuse
with envy—oh ecstasy! oh perfec
tion!
And so we came to the end of
perfect day. Because everything
was so perfect that Ceil so exquisite,
we gathered together all of the
fragments of sound and beauty—
carefully tied them together with
a string of happiness, and tucked
them in the archive of our mind
marked “Memories to be wistfully
reread and then tucked back again.”
DEAR MOM
Thru all my lengthy nineteen years
She has stuck with me thru smiles
and tears.
When I was little and stumped my
toe.
I’d go to her with all my woe.
When I was 'older with my first beau,
With happy secrets to her I’d go.
Once I made an A on spelling,
still can vision her dear heart
swelling.
Swelling with pride—^yes sireel
filie was awful proud—almost as me.
But I still remember that T on art.
Gosh, that nearly broke her heart.
Oh well, come what may—good or
bad
Mom’s the best friend I’ve ever had.
So, Mom, on Sunday, the ninth of
May,
I wish you a happy Mother’s Day.
FROM A SOIiHEEE SOMEWHERE
IN NORTH AFRICA
"Ghost Breakers
(Sarah Merritt)
■linHIIIIHIIIIHllllHIIIIBIIilHIIMnilBW*'!*'"*"'
Well, the big event came off last
week-end—and as usual May Day
lived up to the expectations of fun
for all even with all of the last min
ute complications which always turn
up . . . Nancy Johnson had a little
trouble as Bill showed up and she
already had a date . . . Sis Belton
was quite happy which was very
evident as Jack came up for the
Week-end . • • “Stew” Snider also
seemed to be in her glory—must
have been because that Daniels’ boy
from Davidson was here. Those who
were hobbling around Sunday aft
ernoon were our soft ball players and
our early morning riders—Normie,
Sut, Butch, Deck, “Mac,” Jimmie,
Julia and Mott—some energy these
people have . . - Last week-end saw
Martha Humbert and Jean Maclay
take off for Carolina. Fine time it
was that they had . . .Congratula
tions to Jane Lovelace . . . her Med.
School sponsor picture was good!
As were also Mary Lib Bray’s, Lib
Gudger’s and Barbara Hawkins’
Betsy Casteen doesn’t need vitamin
pills—all she has to do is to look
at Booger’s picture . . • Julia Gar
rett’s mighty happy about Breck be
ing sent to Tennessee—but don t
think she doesn’t get excited even
thinking about Bill coming in two
weeks . . . Catherine Bunn wrote a
letter—and now can’t rtemember
what she put in it . . • looks like
trouble brewing . . .
If you wondered what has hap
pened to Lucy Smith, Julia’s little
sister, she’s transferred to Duke
where she is in training . . . Nancy
McClung went down to Carolina last
week-end too, but her visit there
was probably the shortest on record
. . . “Bull” Bullock’s and Kacky
Traynham’s dance will not be soon
forgotten and then the winner was
assisted by her highness in pinning
on the tiara ... the way some of
those hurried business students get
into the typing room is amazing and
much more exciting than the non
chalant manner in which the Bitting-
ites go into the basement ... Lou
ise Totherow has developed a fine
friendship with Margaret Stauber
and curiously enough, the same thing
can be said for Mildred Butner and
Mary Louise Parks . . . Edith Sto
vall makes attractive announce
ments in chapel—and they can sure
ly be heard . . • But the saddest
story of the year is that the case
study of some of the psychology
students moved out of town before
they were half through.
At this point Martha has given
out.
Mother’s Little Helper
(Eosalind Clark)
Time: Spring vacation—morning
Place: In bed.
Action: Dreaming of daises and
feathery pink clouds.
Huh?
Yes, mom, I’ll get up zzzzz
(T'en minutes later) -
zzz Yes, mom zzz
(Still later)
Don’t shake so hard—^I’m up!
What?
Mandy quit! What for? And you
want me to help you finish the spring
cleaning and do the errands—But
mom I but mom but
My Dear, there used to be a time,
I could group some words—and have
them rhyme;
And—^in fact—^without much tact,
I made a statement to that affect.
That I would find some time to sit,
And write the words to a song—
to-wit,
Each Sundown — A Little Prayer
For You.”
To say—“I’m sorry—^but no can
do,”
It’s not the fact—that I don’t love
you;
For in the following verse. I’ll—
Try to explain what cramps my style.
Propped on an elbow—beneath a
tree,
Concentrating on you and me,
When a shouted phrase—that’s quite
askew.
From the subject in mind—I love
you,
Puts the scram on the atmosphere,
And I turn to see—what now I hear,
' ‘ Hets, Uts, Lorrenges.”
-yes mam.
Armed with a flash light, a false
front of courage, and a couple of
cold chills and adequate goose
bumps, we crept up dark winding
steps to root out the Little Red
Man and rummage among the time-
honored eaves on the third floor of
Sisters House.
We reached the top of the steps,
and there in front of us was a low
old-fashioned door—closed. Gulping,
we knocked ... no answer .
gulping again we pushed open the
quaint door and were taken back
by the large oblong room. Those
holes in the plaster ceiling through
which dirt seeped, those few cob
webbed windows which gave the
whole room a mystic half-light, and
those questioning closed doors along
the side made a perfect setting
for a murder mystery. (I would
have died without any mystery if
anything had moved.)
It was quite evident from the first
that the traditional elf of Salem
has been married secretly—to whom
but his wife would that nine-foot
broom belong t She must not be
very good ghost wife because she
had not made up one of the tumbled
beds, dust was inches thick on
everything, and on the floor were
several scattered leaves from aut
umns long ago.
ITie musical ability of the Little
Red Man cannot be questioned.
Over in one corner was a time-worn
(I don’t see why Mandy had to
quit. Gee, I thought we were pals,
and she “desoits” me on the first
day of spring vacation).
Oh my goodness! Hey mom!
Where’s the dish towel? Oops—tch,
tch—Not bad—Four dishes, two
glasses, and three saucers—Maybe
she didn’t hear it—Oh no-o-o-o-o
I didn’t mean to mom—You know
how slippery things like that can
be sometimes Heh, heh (Gulp)
the rugs in the living room and din
ing room? vacuum cleaner?
Suppose it gets loose?
Well, I enjoy puttering around in
the home anyway. Gee, I never did
think these rugs covered that much
floor. Wonder what’s that loose screw
on the bottom? Oh, it fell off—ifA-ud so to my tent—to sojourn and
don’t guess it makes much difference.
I’ll just go on cleaning. That’s funny
—After the screw went up the
vacum cleaner, the motor made a
funny noise nd stopped. I wonder
if I can find the trouble — Oh roar
ing rippers—the whole bottom of
the cleaner — My, My Look at
all the dirt on the floor!
Yes, mam. I’m coming—(Oh happy
day slie didn’t hear me that time)
You say you want me to buy some
groceries uptown? Suppose I?
Yes mam right.
(Later—much later)
Oh, mom—I made such a bargain!
Instead of getting the oranges that
were 45c a dozen, I urged the
groceryman to gi'''’e me some of the
others that were much cheaper
much softer, too! And Alsm guess
what he tried to tell me that
the large radishes I picked up were
beets. Can you imagine .... What do
you mean? Well, they are beets? You
don’t need me any more—oh fine—I
mean—why mom, you know I’m
always ready to help.
It’s a vision from a nightmare,
clothed in a cape affair made up of
a thousand and one patches, and
each patch is straining from the pull
of a thousand others. In each hand
he carries a basket woven from the
local weeds; in one basket are his
eggs (Hekjs^ I pick one up in my
hand and from inside can be heard
a “Peck-peck.” He’ll explain—it’s
the heredity of the hen—peeking for
its food, but if you crack the shell
—ten to one says you find the final
stage of the chick embryo. His oth
er basket contains his nuts (uts) and
oranges (lorrenges). A snarled “Al
lay” will generally cause his depart
ure, but sometimes it takes a boot.
pump-organ, squeeky, out-of-tune,
and minus several notes; but never
theless, playable. After testing it,
we went exploring further.
The Little Red Man must have a
large family because there were
fifty-eleven, dusty, cubby-hole
rooms. Peeping in some of the less
musty, shadowed corners, we found
everything from garden hoses, rusty,
ornamented iron-stoves, and tr'iaks
galore, to bird cage frames and old
stage settings. Perhaps the four
lamp posts are for the Little Red
Man and his friends when they go
on a spree.
Since winter is over the elf child
ren had propped their two sleds
against the wall in one of the tiny
three-sided rooms. There was still
a trace of red paint and a faint
outline of a rose design on them.
The one which was about two feet
long had curved iron rims and a
well-used rope attached to each
side. The solid wood rims and burlap
on each side showed that the other
sled was a little older.
The dim light and footsteps did
not exactly make us want to pretend
we were Bob Hope and say “Hi,
Great-Grandma” to that shadow
over in the corner and soon, it was
too dark to disturb more spiders
and shadows beyond the other nar
row stairway, so we scrambled down
the steps into civilization again.
STANDARD
BUILDING & LOAN
ASSOCIATION
236 N. Main St—Winston-Salem
compile,
A couple of lines—to make you
smile;
Into the sentence of “Your lovely
eyes—”
Comes that hateful sound I do de
spise.
And glancing up—I And with a start.
That ugly face—from a world
apart—'
Heks, uts, lorrenges.”
ITie wily son-of-a-gun might have
read the book on better business,
but I know he has not read a book
on “Etiquette.” He has with him
this time, two of his young-uns.
Both their heads are shaved —with
the exception of a spot the size of
a quarter where the hair is about
six inches long; one is nude except
for a piece of dirty cloth which
hangs from his shoulders to his
waist, but the other has rag upon
rag wrapped around him. I guess
the first one up gets all the clothes.
All three keep up an incessant chat
tering—the old one trying to sell his
wares and the young ones begging
candy and cigarettes; but to con
tinue—
Day has turned to night
And by a lantern’s light,
I try to continjie my prose.
Instead is my verse.
And here comes a sound that’s worse,
A creepy beating of drums
One line ends with June
But here comes a sound that’s worse,
When an unearthly wail will prevail;
The wail will diminish
But still I can’t finish,
S'o my alibi goes in the mail-
(Ed.’s Note: If you have letters
worthy of publishing from boys in
the service, please see the editor).
IN CASE YOU’RE INTERESTED:
The swimming pool will be opened
this week-end. If you can qualify
as a life-saver, please see Mary Best
or Miss Averill.
The music listening room in South
Hall is now ready for your approval.
It’s positively unbelievable how
charming and refreshing it has turn
ed out to be. See for yourself—first
floor of S’outh Hall.
PERFECT
, PRINTING
\ PLATES
PIEDMONT
EMGRAVINCCa
WINJ'TON-J'ALEM
SALEMITES
UP TOWN meeting PLACE
THE ANCHOR GO.
“The Shopping Center”
Compliments of
J. R. THOMAS
ICE & COAL CO.
MtJSIC OF ALL FUBLISHERS
MASTERWORK REOORDINaS
MXrSICAI. INSTRUMENTS
ACCESSORIES
Brodt-Separk Music GOi
503 W. 4th St. Tel. 3-2241
The examination schedule has been
posted on the back porch of Main
Hall for your use at- your your
disposal.
Oscar Levant will be the guest
star on Refreshment Time Sunday,
May 9, at 4:30 p. m.
And as you probably already
know. Room Drawing ‘takes place
on Wednesday, May 12.
On Saturday, May 15, the Acad
emy is presenting at 7:00 P. M.
the May Dell “A Midsummer
Night’s bream.”
All programs in Memorial Hall in
the evening from now until the end
of school will begin at 8:30 p. m.
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1 Golf Balls I
I Tennis Shoes |
I Tennis Racquets 1
I Bathing Caps |
I Tennis Shoes |
I SALEM BOOK STORE S
I Salem Campus Square I
i ^
SiiiainiiiiiiiH[iiiiiiiiiiiiiaiiniiiiBii[iiiiiiiiiiiiiaiiiiiiiiiiii[»f
New Gabardine Suits
in Bright Colors
Sizes 10-18
$24.9S
at the
THE IDEAL DRY
GOODS CO.
West Fourth St.
MILK
SELECTE
D
AIRIES
ICE CREAM
STERLING SILVER
SALEM SPOONS
Make Grand Gifts
$1.00
^ Plus tax
ARDEN FARM STORE
Across the Square from Salem College.