Page Two.
THE SALEMITE
September 19, 1947.
IN MEMORIAM
Dr. Willoughby’s grave in Riverside Ceme
tery, Charlottesville, Virginia, will often be
visited by Salem College students whose Eng
lish classwork was under her skilled and de
voted guidance.
This grave, close to her mother’s resting
place, faces the landscape she loved—the hori
zon made unforgettable by the beautiful hills
and restful mountains which encircle Charlot
tesville. She sleeps among friends and life
time neighbors. Jefferson’s Monticello looks
across the horizon with sheltering academic
dignity.
Dr. Willoughby is “home” again.
Characteristically her end came as she was
returning to her field of duty.
“Death’s truer name
Is ‘Onward,’ no discordance in the roll
And march of that Eternal Harmony
Where to the world beats time.”
(Tennyson, an unpublished Sonnet)
Dr. Howard E. Kondthaler
"Consider that I labor not for myself only,
but for all them that seek learning.”
Wrapped always in a cloak of dignity and
queenly charm. Dr. Willoughby brought a
scholarly spirit to her suimy classroom and to
all her students who would accept it.
For those who sought wit she offered it—
dry and unexpected. The searching scholar
excited her own scholarliness and she made
the average student feel that being average
was a privilege. Dr. Willoughby gav-‘ to each
student whatever was needed most—facts,
friendship, confidence or a scolding..
She never lost her graceful dignity. No
scatter-brained school girl ever broke her
calmness or the smooth plan of her classroom.
Not many students knew much about Dr.
Willoughby’s personal affairs, But the look in
her bright eyes, the gentleness of her manner
bespoke a gentle life.
Pity those who will never know her.
Mrs. Kichard E. Shore (E. Sue Cox, ’41)
Students of Salem College feel deeply the
loss of Dr. Pearl V. Willoughby. Her death
is the culmination of a rich life and 25 years
of tireless service to Salem. Her quiet, gracious
manner and her seemingly infinite capacity
for scholarship and knowledge have had a pro
found influence on many students who knew
her and studied with her.
Quoted below is a passage from the prayer
delivered by the Reverend John Fischbach,
chaplain of the University of Virginia, at the
funeral last Friday:
. . . “We remember the good and gracious
influences in her training and the privilege of
a long, useful and honored life. We remember,
too, the goodness and truth that' has passed
from her life into the lives of others and has
made the world richer for her presence. These
things we recall in silence. . .” ^
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Virginia Connor
BeeUia
by Catherine Gregory
The taxi screeched to a halt in front of
Clewell. A small figure crawled out and stood
impatiently as the driver unloaded 2 suitcases,
a hatbox, 3 laundry bags, a large carton, 2
bulghig gunny sacks, a teddy bear, and stacked
them on the sidewalk. He received his fare
and roared away leaving the girl standing on
the sidewalk.
“Oh gee, its good to be back”, she sighed;
for she was inclined to sentiment and optimism.
“I can hardly wait to see the gang and all the
rest of the kids”, and her little round face
beamed with pure goodwill. Little Sociable
(for thus she was called) was a b^rn mjxer,
and she simply adored everybody. So she
threw down her stuff and rushed into tha Smoke
House, arms wide and eyes sparkling. “Golly,
how wonderful to see you!” she shrilled to
each and all. There were clumps of people
all over, but no one even looked up. Un
daunted, she charged the first person.
“Mary, how are you ? Did you have a good
time this summer? What did you do?”
Mary took a deep breath. “The cook quit
June 2nd” she said. “I washed, ironed, cooked,
swept, bought groceries, scrubbed, sewed,
cleaned, and took care of ten small children
while Mama and Papa entertained 35 relatives
who stayed with us all summer. I went to see
a movie in July, though”, she added.
“Oh”, said little Sociable ai}d hastily moved
on. She spied a friend. “Susie !”, she screamed
out, running over. “How in the world are you?
Why didn’t you write and what did you do
all summer?” Susie forced a humorless smile
and looked up. There was a mad look in her
sunken eyes.
“Whadda I do all summer, I sit inna library
beatin’ my head to the bone tryna pass. So
what happens? So I pass. So do I laixgh and
play inna summer like the, other girls? No. T
go to summer school making up the ,62 hours
of Hygiene, Bible, Psych., Music Apprec.,
Interior Dec., Personality Adjustment, Practi
cal Tatting, and Soap-making At Home that
it says is required in small print at the back
of the catalogue. All summer I sit inna library
beatin’ my head to the bone tryna pass . . .”
She choked up with sobs and turned away.
“Summer school? Did I hear someone say
summer school?” Five girls chorused in unison
and whirled around to little Sociable. “Oh
man, chile, you aiilt lived until -”, “No place
in the world like it -”, “Take crip courses,
make A’s, date every night-”, “Men by the
hundreds-”, “Lena the Hyena could be pinned
in half an hour-”, “I was pinned 7 times in one
semester-”,'“Its Chapel Hill!”, they all scream
ed at once, clapping her on the back, eager for
a new audience. Little Sociable nodded agree
ment and quickly made an escape.
A foxtail flaehed past and Little Sociable
turned in time to see the Grand Oestvire as
Glenda swept her furs aside. “My dears,’ she
was saying to a circle of admiring fre.shmen,
“I had a simply marvellous time. I met the
most simply wonderful man. He has loads of
money . • •” Little Sociable passed on.
“Greets”, said a srtanding figure and Little
Sociable saw Sal. “How bourgeois”, she said,
sweej)ing the room with a look of contempt.
“I, myself, read all summer . . . the complete
works of Sartre, Shulman, and Lloyd C. Doug
las. Changed my philosophy three times . . .”
Little Sociable went on by.
In one corner she saw a group of deeply
tanned girls. Some were lying on chairs,’others
on the floor. They were smoking, and talking
in loud voices. All looked vigorous and un
kempt. “Hi”, said Little Sociable. “You all
been to the beach this summer?” One of the
girls laughed and ground out her cigarette.
“Listen to that! Boy, I’ll say! Man, have
we!” The others whistled and stomped. “Boy,
ole Myrtle was reely rockin’, boy.” “Man, I
mean”, the others said.
The room was full of new faces, and
thousands of perfect strangers milled around.
Freshmen, thought Little Sociable, and sud
denly she was discouraged. She looked with
distaste at the people she knew. Those creeps,
she thought. And I've got a whole rotten year
to spend with thep. Ugh.
She went upstairs and into her quiet room.
She looked out the window and desperation
began to mount w'ithin her. Suddenly, the
door burst open.
“Hey, Little S! Golly its good to see you.
Whadja do this summer? I had .the -most
wonderful ”
“Oh, drop dead,” said Little Sociable. ■
m rmS I'iiirxb.
" I DOH'T CfWlE. «= DJJ MKE f\ AHP
CWkTWKEP A-moSS-HfeR.^, Age WE &ONNA SLEfcf/*
Tootsie Spends Busy Summer
Avoiding Dirty Homework
by Tootsie G-illespie
A Fable
First day after school adjourned:
I arrived home full of won
derful plans for the summer,
consisting of eating and sleep
ing.
Second day: I ate anH slept.
Third day: Family dcidpd I had
loafed long enough, so they in
troduced me to a new mechani
cal invention called a “lawn-
mower ’ ’.
Fourth day: Pound out that you
can mow a lawn much better
in a horizontal position, with
the eyes partly closed in an
attitude of momentary rest.
Fifth day; Fourth day’s idea
didn’t work so well.
Sixth, Seventh, Eighth, etc. days;
Endeavored to appear to the
neighbors as if I were engaged
in great, useful undertakings
ty dpnuing a two-piece bathing
suit, stretching out in tlie sun
and mumbling to myself, as if
in great thought.
Mother, in parental sympathy,
decided I was working too hard and
so^ she let up on my daily duties.
Now all I had to do each ,day was
make up all the beds, polish the
silver, vulcanize father’s auto tires,
wash the car and the dishes, chop
the pear tree down,* re-stuff the
sofa pillows that father, in nightly
fits of pique, threw at the trained
mosquitoes mother bought and spray
Roach Doom in the basement.
Discovered that crank grease gives
one a wonderful tan and at the
same time gives the skin the appear
ance of a par-boiled alligator.
During this month, mother de
cided that I wasn’t dating a big
enough variety of boys and so she
baited a cleverly concealed bear-
trap in the ftpnt walk, I ended up
by dating the paper boy, the milk
man’s son and the hunky man.
“Can’t be too choosy”, mother
said. I smiled knowingly.
august
Found out this month that 'at least
ONE Salemite was alive and kick
ing because I got a post card from
one!
Tried my hand at writing poetry
but since my hand didn’t do too
well, I g£ive up the idea.
Discovered that one stays on top
of the water much better if one
moves his body in a vigorous motion
anyone’s ace, especially if the ace
and it ’a more fun that way.
Found it advisable never to trump
belongs to your partner and part-
How to be a Success at College, or,
The Two Foolish Freshmen
Once there were Two Aspiring
Freshmen who went to College
simply Stuffed with an Overwhelm
ing Passion to Make the Grade and
become Well-Rounded and Versatile
Personalities. To accomplish these
things they decided to Sign Up for
Everything. School had barely
started when they found themselves
Reporters on the Paper, Members
of the old school Team, Stagehands
with the Crew, and Proctors in the
Dorm. Not to mention Hail Fel
lows Well Met. All this w'ould un
doubtedly help them to become Good
All Round Girls, but what on Earth
w'ould it do to their workf Every
body wondered. Their advisors had
double apoplexies. But meanwhile
their team was winning, the paper
w'as unusually popular, and the Dorm
was quiet. And somehow. School-
work wasn’t neglected.
As the Semester grew shorter, our
two friends became Busier and
Busier with Activities, ,and guessed
they were being Pretty Collegiate.
At mid-year they managed to Get
Through Everything without any
ammonisr cokes, and when it was
all over, they played tennis when
everybody was Done In.
In a State of Depression, all re
turned for the Bad News (and Bad
it was). It turned out that nobody
had - done particularly well except
our two friends—they had both
niade the Dean’s List.
Moral: Be a Rah-Rah Girl and do
wore than you should; you can Never
Tell.
by Frances Gulesian
icularly if one’s partner is her
father (niy arm now has a two-way
bend).
The best sleeping is done right
after dinner with one leg , thrown
carelessly around a bed post, the
mouth hanging open and the arms
distorted in a sort of “Danse Mac-
cabre” fasluon.
SEPTEMBER
At any rate, you can’t say thP
summer was wasted! Spent the first
part of this month wishing I’d spent
more time spending my time i®
more time-spending ways. However;
I found I’d kept up with John.’®
Third Divorcee” and “Life Can Be
Terrible”. Here the summer waSj
already vanished, and water or n®
water, Salem was calling.
So here we all are back agai*
and what is the first thing we ask?
“Did you have a big time this sum
mer?” And others of us answer;
“Well, I got home from school ful^
of wonderful plans for the sum
mer ...”