THE SALEMITE
Page Three.
“OUTWARD BOUND”
(Emily McGinn)
Have you ever heard two or three
girls, as they hurried down to lunch,
discussing ‘ ‘ that old lawyer’s books
that won’t .balance” or those letters
that must be finished before tomor
row? Or did you see the crowd
that invaded the Treasurer’s office
to see how things are done? Well,
those were the Business Girls who
will be ready to hold down jobs in
another week or two.
Five days a week we work hard
in our three rooms on the second
iloor of South Hall where you’ve
probably seen the lights pouring
forth in the evenings as we typed
away. Three hours a week we en
joy a course in Freshman English.
We have learned typing, short
hand, accounting, and almost every
thing else that is done in an office.
We have had to work hard, but we
have enjoyed every minute of it.
While we want you to know we
have worked hard, we Vouldn’t like
for you to think that we don’t have
good times, too. A moijth or two
ago, we had a square danc.e and in
vited boys from the Signal Corps
school and the Medical School. We
had a simply wonderful time. Just
to hear Mrs. Eondthaler tease the
Wilmington girls is fun enough for
anyone and, before the year is over,
we are planning to take several field
trips.
The highlight of the whole year
will come when we are presented
our certificates. One will be the
Secretarial Science Certificate which
includes English, Shorthand, Ac
counting, and Office Training. The
other includes Typing and General
Office Work. But no matter which
one we get, we’ll be ready to tackle
any job that comes along.
''A Sophomore Looks at Her Big Sisters”
The class of ’43—you’re our “big
sisters” you know, so naturally we
think you’re the swellest ones. It’s
hard to put in writing what you
mean to us but we’re going to sin
cerely miss you—not as a class be
cause there is another to take your
place—but rather as individuals.
Each one of you has meant, some
thing to us that we will never quite
forget.
Never a rainy day without eag
erly watching for C-role’s newest
rain garb . . . Hennie’s and Haw’s
sincerity ... the “little ones” Bow
en, Bray, Best, Boylan and Enie
. Struvie’s lovely, hard Yankee
brogue . . . Cootie, Becky, Kousseau
and Mot—just call ’em good lookin’
.. . the three musketeers—Jane Per
ry, JennieQuinn and Aline . . . Bet
ty Vanderbilt “ put-you-in-your-place
(Lucille Newman)
look” . . . Little and smiling, red
headed Mary Lou . . . Mozelle,
Kathleen, Krites and Smith—future
teachers incorporated . . . the song
sters Bunny, Jane and Peggy . . .
Corinne Faw’s wit that it took us
two years to find . . . Vivian’s de
pendability and gold-speckled brown
eyes . . . piano-bound Lib, Margaret
and Marian . . . Haney I-can-never-
get-in-a-word-edgewise-McClung . . .
eat, drink and watch your vitamins
Irene, Mary Louise, Lois and Ethel
. . . Mary Lib and the annual—^Lib
and May Day . . . Mary and Stucky
—Stucky and math (cheer up,
S'tucky, there’s no senior math class
next year—maybe it isn’t you after
all) . . . Fitzie and that horrid
bunny rabbit song . . . Senorita O’
Neal . . . “bubble, bubble, boll and
bubble” quotes Neal . . . Blond Bob
bie—pencil in hand, hand on paper,
paper revealing wonders . . . Louise
Miller alias Ceil in that black shin-
mer-at-the-right-plaees dress . . .
gymn bound McKenzie . . . Little
Yelverton’s grinning blue eyes and
little pink pinafore . . . Peggy Som-
er’s plus mustach—^not thal we
have forgotten Ceil, ye Gods no
— we just saved the Grem
lin’s personal friend till last (they
did her dirty didn’t they?—and ohe
'looks so pitiful on crutches too!)
Neat Lib Griffin and Biddy ress
either leaving for or coming-back
from a swell week-end.
We’re going to miss you, seniors,
but good luck and be good and
please come back and see us.
‘‘SWING YOUR PARTNER
IS NO MORE”
AT THE THEATRES
Carolina:
lion. - Tues.: “Cairo.”
Ved. - Thur. - Fri. - Sat.’:
Force.”
‘Air
State:
Mon. - Tues.: “Night Plane to Chun
king.”
Wed. - Thurs.: “Lady Bodyguard.”
Fri. - Sat.; “Shantytown.”
Forsyth:
Mon. - I'ues.: “Keeper of the
Flame.”
Wed. - Thur.: “I Married a Witch.”
Fri. - f?at.: “You Were Never Love
lier.”
Colonial;
Mon. - Tues.; “Gentleman Jim.”
Wednesday: “Crime Smasher.”
Thursday: “Two-Gun Sheriff.”
Fri. - Sat.; “Old Chilholm’s Home
Trail.”
On Wednesday afternoon at 4:30
in the Club Dining Koom, the Fac
ulty Dancing Class formally gradu
ated and received their degree of
“Doctor of Classical Dancing.” Of
course the inevitable exam preceed-
ed and our learned pedigogs settled
down amid groans and sighs of
“Gosh, we’ll never finish,” and “I
don’t remember you discussing this;
hav'e we ever had it?”
There seemed to be little difficul
ty in their discussion in either Latin
or Sanskrit (but not both) as to
whether the Northumbrian bishops
were more schismatical than the
Cumbrian abbots, but for several
minutes they pondered over the Chil-
tern Hundreds during the reign of
Rufus IV. S'uch dates as the birth
of the blues and 1066, also the
identification of such well-known
personalities as Madame La Zonga
and Partifol Pfoffenschlegeringer
were pondered over somewhat more
seriously. However, they came
through the exam with “fading
colors” and we are pleased to report
that every single one passed (since
the exam was graded on the straight
line.) One diploma was even issued
with a “some come louder.”
Amid the screaming strains of
“I’ll Never Smile Again,” the di
plomas, neatly-bound with wilted,
red ribbon and pinked around the
edges, were dewly, I mean “duely”
issued. Of course the traditional
commencement tears were formally
shed and the class disbanded for the
year. Anyhow, at least when you
prance cheerfully to your exams
next week, you can rest assured that
some of “them” have been through
it too.
A^ARTHA’S
MUSIN6S
VOICE DEPARTMENT
HAS SOCIAL
EXAMS!
A CULTUEAL AND POLITICAL HISTORY OF MODERN
EUROPE by Hayes
Is for me the worst bit of torture I’ve found in many days.
With its POLITICAL IDEAS AND INSTITUTIONS and
ECONOMIC EXPANSION,
It makes me wish I’d married that man and now lived in
his mansibn.
THE INVENTION OP PRINTING and OVERSEAS EX
PLORATIONS
And THE RISE OF MODERN CAPITALISM are all to me
narrations
Of stories and things and people be^t forgotten long ago;
But there’s no hope; I must read and study and cram for
ever more.
But why all this learning must be soaked in my head
Is more than I can see. It most puts me to bed
To realize that I must quit my foolish play
4nd go back to my dear old history book for many another
day.
—^Elizabeth Bernhardt.
With all threats of murder, maim
ing for life, and hate, Martha thus
writes. The highlight of the week
goes to Aline Sliamel who now is
carrying an inte'resting rock known
as the diamond . . . Also from the
senior class there is news of Bobbie
Hawkins’s fraternity pin . . . Speak
ing of fraternity pins, Lois Wooten
is “toting” Walter’s . . . Before
geeting involved here’s giving Lib
Williams a big welcome back . . .
Lots of people have hobbies and
colections, but the best ever is
Luanne Davis collecting Bill’s and
Mollie Cameron sticking to the J’s
from Joe to Jack.
Now for the questions of the week:
What’s this about Patty Mehorter
not believing Don? Oh, come on,
Patty, have faith.
Why does Ellen Hearne like to
ride in big Buicks?
What happened in Point
Sunday when Lib Jones and Virginia
Barten went to Jinny Gibson’s?
Was Charlotte damaged
vhen Mary Frances McNeely, Lib
Gudger, A dele Chase and Molly
Boseman visited “Bull”?
Why does Pes Hanes get so-o
many specials?
Who is Mr. Snow? (See “Phil”
Hill).
Speaking of rings . ■ • How are
Kussell and Edith Shapiro doing?
How does Merline Smith like her
new picture of English Ford?
Wliat does “twitterpated” mean?
Love, my dear, love.
Why do Barb Watkins and B.
Burnette howl when a ‘ ‘ weasel”
is mentioned?
,Why was Lib Bernhardt so sur
prised to see Joe?
Why was Mary Ellen Byrd “in
spired” all week?
• Why is “Kacka” S'chwalbe count
ing the days ’til May 28th?
Why does everything happen to
Betty Moore—and all at one time?
Did Adair see Ladd enough?
What’s Jack doing calling Sue
again?
What does Helen Thomas know
about the six Cavaliers?
Wliat about Saturday night rides
with Garrison and Jones?
Which of Manning’s birthday gifts
had the better fragrance? The ham
(an honest-to-goodness baked one),
the roses (one dozen red ones), or
the candy (really girls, don’t rush!).
Why does Graham come to see
Marie Griffin so much? (Kidding?
Shucks, no.)
Where did Lucille Newman find
those lovely shoes? (sandals, I beg
your pardon).
How can Mary Alice Neilson stay
calm with a visit to West Point
“Do you suppose we could move
the piano out here?” a dreamy-eyed
young man asked.
“Would be nice,” a scared young
lady clutching her music for com
fort answered, “Even though
there’s food awaiting us inside, who
can go inside with a moon like that
outside!”
This conversation took place
Tuesday night before the door of
the Club Dining Eoom in Corrln
Hall at the annual party given for
the Voice Department by Mr. Bair.
Mrs. Starr, and Miss Kathryn Swain,
WHien we finally stopped gazing at
the moon, and migrated insidn, I
noticed there were a few other males
beside my date present and, of
course, they were well taken care
of!
To make everything more in
formal in the flower-bedecked room,
the chairs were placed in a semi-
“Summer School Bound”
(Mary Ellen Byrd)
With the campus garbed in its
greenest, the fountains bursting
forth, and the swimming pool open,
it seems that books and study have
been temporarily placed in the back
ground at Salem. Miss S'iewer’s at
tendance list has dropped to a new
minimum, and there certainly are
no evidences of overwork in the
dorms. In general. I’d say, the at
titude is ‘ ‘ Let’s throw all the books
the river and quit school for
ever.” (And that means before
exams!) (You’d think a Salemite
would never be caught on a campus
again.
That’s the funny part about the
whole affair. Just ask Nancy Eiden-
hour what she’s doing this summer,
and while you have visions of her
lying on the side of some Concord
swimming pool, she beams forth
right happily, ‘ ‘ Going to Davidson
to summer school!” No less than
twenty people have already regis
tered summer school plans in Miss
McNeely’s office and, from what
I hear, others are making plans.
Davidson, the next door neighbor,
seems to be the most popular summer
school choice—I guess you just
can’t keep Salemites away from that
l)lace. The Salem delegation there
this summer will be: Mary Frances
McNeely, Mildred Garrison, Nancy
Ridenhour, Sue Willis, Lib Morris,
“Ginna” Foster and “Charlie” Wat
son. Next in preference comes Caro
lina, fervently supported by Nell
Denning, Mary Ellen Byrd, Frances
Crowell, and Mary Lib Allen.
Martha IMoore Hayes and Gwyn
Northrup will be at Duke; Nancy
Kenny and Helen MacMillan, at
TJ. T.; Mamie Herring and Isaac
Hanes at Wake Forest; Ethel Ilal-
pern and Dot Langdon, at Columbia;
Anne Jones, at E.C.T.C.; and Dodie
Bayley, at WTiit’tenberg.
We hear rumors that summer
school isn’t going to be what it used
to be, but I guess this crowd is
willing to take the chance. Any
thing to get an education, you know!
just around the corner?
Have you noticed Lois SVain’s
new sparkle? (Third finger left hand
—as well as in her big brown eyes).
Have you heard about another
week-end house-party? “Off they
go into the blue sky yonder.”—
Peggy Eaton, Marion Gray, Lindy
Stokes, Lib Johnston, Fitzie Jones,
Frances Neal and hostess Margaret
Leinbach.
Did you see the handsome “louie”
strolling into Corrin Hall with
Treva Miller last Tuesday. H®
Grant Bennett, Caroline’s big brother
—by the way, Caroline was married
last week.
Where, oh where does Dot Kiser
find all those moron jokes?
Why does that moon have to shine
so now?
Why doesn’t this end?
circle and when the noise was hush
ed, several pupils of each teacher
sang, Lindy Stokes, first on the
program, proved false her state
ment that she was a “bad begin
ning” when she sang a modern com
position, “My Lady Lofu,” by El
eanor Warren, for her diction was
good and her expression fitted per
fectly. Peggy Eaton put us all in
a dream world by singing “The
Sleep That Flits on Baby’s Eyes,”
by Carpenter. Little Grace Lane
did her teacher, Annie Hyman Bunn,
proud when she sang “My Mother
Bids Me Bind My Hfiir,” by Haydn.
Jane Frazier’s interpretation of
Donizetti’s “Regnava hel Silenzia”
was brilliant, and, to close the pro
gram which featured also several
singers from town, Mildred Transou
sang effectively “Ecstasy” by Hum
mel.
Then there was food—and plenty
it *long with music by Charlie
Keaton, organist at WAIR. nianks
to the Voice Department' for a
very enjoyable evening.
A Week-End At Davidson
(Nancy Kenney)
Davidson calling Mias Grace Law
rence. “Miss Lawrence, there’s a
girl here who claims to be from Sa
lem—You know her?—^Fine—Just
wanted you to know that she’s had
an attack of appendicitis. Sliall we
operate? All right, I’ll hold the line
until you get her mother.” “Yes,
Mrs. Kenney, I’m positive it is your
daughter. Keep her here! I’m
afraid that’s imposhible. We aren’t
equipped to keep girls. Send for an
ambulance? Right away.”
There I was. WJiat I wanted to
do didn’t seem to matter; so I de
cided to take the situation into my
own hands. I would walk out. The
only thing wrong was that my es
cape was discovered before I could
get through the door.
“We hate to see you leave, but
the ambulance is waiting. Since
your date is going along too, we feel
that it’s best to send a chaperon
along.”
“What! A chaperon in an ambu
lance! Well, all right, if you in
sist.”
Here we are in a Charlotte hos
pital and ready for the second act.
“You want my finger? Ouch!
What are you doing to it?—Oh, you
just want a little blood. How about
leaving me a little toot”
So it began and lasted through
the night.
Next morning—“When are you
going to let me out? My week-end
is already ruined. You can’t decide
whether or not to operate—Wliat!
Let me out of here.”
“Miss Kenney, your date is back
again so you had better get back jn
bed.”
TTiere I stood in the middle of the
floor in my Pj’s.
“You have decided not to oper
ate? Fine.”
“That’s right, but remember:—no
gym, walkng, golf, horse-back rid*
ing, tennis—in fact, you can’t do
anything.”
“Yes, doctor, I understand per
fectly. Just go into hibernation for
a while. Now may I got”
Davidson, here we come—^My date,
my suitcase, and me.
Watch those eyebrows rise.
“Where have you two been? Wo
missed you last night.”
“You mean us? No telling!”