February 1 3, 1948
THE S A L F M I T >
Page Five
In This Manner Bom
by lone Bradsher
On cold winter nights Harry and
Amy Smith would sit on either side
of the fireplace in their den. The
blinds would be closed. The small
room formed a nucleus in the big
' cold house.
Harry Smith sprawled in his leath
er ehair on his side of the paneled
room. The radio was a few inches
from him, and he had it on loud to
listen to Gabriel Heatter. Harry
Smith was a small man; sparse grey
hair fringed his nearly bald head.
His forehead was lined from squint
ing over prices of lumber, and worry
ing about the O. P. A. Through his
half-closed eyes he observed his wife
on her side of the room in her sateen-
covered chair. She was holding a
Sears Roebuck catalogue on her ro
tund stomach. ,She was fat and had
fleshy ankles that folded into her
_grey flannel slippers. Her pink
striped wrapper was split at the
seams. Now and then she would
direct her gaze toward the row of
diplomas on the wall.
“Harry ...”
“TJh.”
“Harry!” Sharper this time.
“Huh?” Leaning from the radio.
“I wonder if Mary got that cake
I sent her off at school.”
“I rekon so,” He turned the
radio down.
“Do you rekon she’s cold up there
there in Virginia?”
“I don’t gue'Bs so, Amy. They’ve
got steam heat in the dormi
tories 1 ”
The clock struck nine-thirty, and a
log chunked down in the grate.
“Harry ...”
Aren’t you glad j'ou went intb
the lumber business and made all
that money so that our children
could have advantages? Now they
have a place to bring their college
friends.”
“Unhuh”.
He turned the radio up louder
and settled his stiff knee on the
hassock in front of him.
“Well” she continued recklessly,
‘ ‘ I don’t know. If you hadn’t made
all that money, our children wouldn’t
be away from us now. I’d have
Mary to help me, and you could
have Ed and Harry Junior to help
you in your business. But, just
think, the boys through college and
making something of t*hemselves
and Mary abo«t through too.”
She turned a page of the catalogue
and looked at the winter hats. A
strand of wiry hair straggled over
the rim of her bi-focals.
“Amy.”
“Yea, Harry?”
“Why do you work so hard? You
just drive youtself all the time.”
He moved uneasily in his chair
and rearranged a doily on the arm.
“I don’t rightly know. I sup
pose I’m always finding things to
be done. I’ve got to get that rain
coat off to Ed tomorrow. Wasn’t
it fine that he got honorable men
tion in the short story contest!
Harry, are you sure fhat you locked
the garage door?”
Harry rose and went out into the
cold, dark hallway. His shoulders
were stooped as he walked away.
Sometimes there was a sparkle in
his eyes, especially when Mary was
at home.
Amy smoothed her sleev^ down
over her plump arms and folded her
hands in her lap. Again she ad
mired the diplomas of her three
children and turned her head toward
the fireplace.
The coals in the grate glowed on
the new andirons . . . Sears Eoe-
buck . . . Ten ninty-five . . .
March 13 is Salem-Davidson Day
Peterson To
Visit Here
Mr. Edwin L. Peterson, professor
of creative writing at the Univer
sity of Pittsburg, will come to
Salem on February 26 and 27 as the
guest of the college.
He will speak in various English
composition classes and will be
available for private conferences for
students interested in writing. The
hours of these conferences will be
announced at a later date.
Mr. Peterson comes to Salem thro
ugh the arrangement of exchanging
professors by the Arts Program of
the Association of American Col
leges. He will speak in chapel on
February 26 and this is to be his
only public appearence.
Miss Jess Byrd’s advanced com
position class is preparing a booklet
of sketches, written by members of
the class, to be discussed by Mr.
Peterson. The sketches appearing
on this page are included in the
booklet. Tfiey are examples of three
types of writing done by the class.
Still Back, Still Forth is an experi
mental piece; In This Manner Born
is an experiment with dialogue; and
Life With Father is a character
sketch.
Life With Father
My Hero
Still Back, Still Forth
by Nancy Carlton
The rocking chairs on the porch
of the boarding house go back and
forth. They creak together, com-
panionably, as' if talking among
themselves. One chair, the stiff-
backed one with its seat high up
from the floor, creaks quickly, back
and forth, worried for fear of mis
sing a beat. After lunch Miss Car
ter always scuttles betweeA and in
front of the boarders to hop into
this special chair. The back and
forth creak of the rockers echoes in
the click-click of her knitting need
les or the tap-tap of her fingers on
the arms of the chair. Back and
forth. Back and forth.
Steady and deliberate is the heavy
creak of the neighboring chair—
back, still back and then forth, still
forth. It is the favorite one of all
the boarders, but Mr. Walker always
sits in it. After lunch Mr. Walker
never hurries to the porch; he saun
ters. As he leisurely approaches the
chair, Mr. Saunders who is reclining
in it abruptly decides to leave. He
sidles out of the chair, and Mr.
Walker settles comfortably in its
depths.
The back and forth, back and
forth rocker and the back, still back
and then forth, still forth rocker
creak rythmical messages to each
other. Miss Carter and Mr. Walker
are silent. Miss Carter, winding and
unwinding the handle of her knit
ting bag, is thinking, “Will Mr.
Walker speak to me today?” Mr.
Walker leans his head against the
cushioned chair back and shifts his
position. Back, still back and then
forth, still forth.
Back—
We Note With Interest...
that Martha Scott and Jean Dun-
gan were pictured on the front of
a recent Davidsonian as sponsors for
Midwinters. Scotty sponsored for
Kappa Alpha fraternity and Jean
for Pi Kappa Alpha.
that Miss Florence Neely formerly
»an instructor in the Salem science
department is now on the faculty of
Grays Harbor College, Aberdeen,
Washington.
that the Honor Roll for the terjn
just ended at UNC included the
name of former Salemite Jean pierce.
that the excellent sound system
recently installed in Memorial Hall
by Western Electric is a gi'ft of the
class of ’48.
that Margaret Carter was Miss
Shush in the contest sponsored in
the last issue of the Salemite.
Chesterfield prize winners wereCar-
olyn Tayior, Peirano Aiken and Bitsy
Green.
*****
that Mary Motsinger is recuperat
ing from a collision with an auto
mobile.
* * * * *
that a box of snuff was sold to
Cat Gregory by Mr. Welfare. 'And
she chews bubble-gum toO!
*****
that “Babe” Efird Little, ex ’48,
is thoy^proud mother of a baby girl,
born February lo.
\ * * * * ^
that Dr. Vardell is a poet of sorts.
He paraphrased “The Night Before
Christmas” using the names of all
the music faculty.
THE RAPE OF THE FLU GERM,
OR, MY HERO, THE HYPO
by Frances Guleslan
Oh Muse, what heavenly body can
see
The terrors and dangers awaiting
me?
The ice of the alcohol rubbing pad,
The flash of the needle, knocking me
dead.
Such things are not forseen by hu
man eyes,
To supernatural vision, only arise.
Whence this flu germ, by what angry
god sent.
That men would impious deeds sore
repent?
I ’11 tell thee the story of the disease
That ye may judge, and angry gods
appease.
Recall front campus, that great snow
> figure.
So like unto Jove, just a bit bigger.
.Perhaps he th’ignoble statue espied
In fury, and seizea from his tremb
ling side
A thunderbolt deadly, with germs of
flu.
Which he hurled towards our earth,
“shot from the blue!”
It brought us this thing which every
one dreads.
Makes the infirmary crowd all its
beds.
Our hope was fast fading, what
would we dof
Suddenly science took hold of the
'flu—
One shot in the arm—a measly prick.
The germ was defeated, stabbed to
the quick.
Thanks to the HYPO, GERM’S
power was seized.
And man was no longer sick or dis
eased.
Which all has been a Popish way of
saying that:
If you take your flu shot, my little
kitten, you may grow up to be a
cat.
March 13 is Salem-Davidson Day
by Carolyn Taylor
“And, furthermore, Alethea, I be
lieve that you are Christian enough
for both of us, and I’m relying on
you to get me to Heaven.” With
that. Daddy picked up the Sunday
paper and began reading the sports
page, oblivious of the ringing church
bells.
Daddy trios to be religious and
Christian, but thinks going to church
more than twice a month is abnor
mal. Mother is a born church-goer
and will always be one, but Daddy
says that he never approached godli
ness until he married Mother.
Daddy was born in Morehead and
reared there in a big, Victorian
house on main street. His parents
were strict, hard-working Scotch-
English. When I show signs of lazi
ness, Daddy lectures me about how
he, at my age, worked from sun-up
until sun-down. When he was seven
teen, ho went to V. M. I., where he
failed calculus four times and 'got
his face stepped on in football prac
tice. “I wouldn’t take a million
dollars for going to V. M. I., but I
wouldn’t go again for a million dol
lars.” He still, however, proudly
sings the alma mater and bemoans
the fact that V. M. I. never wins
any football games.
After graduation. Daddy spent a
year as a traveling salesman selling
cigarettes in western North Carolina.
Unfortunately, Daddy did not sell
many cigarettes and came home at
his father’s death to take over the
menhaden fishing plant.
The year that Daddy came home
a certain girl graduated from Queens
and came to MoreheaA to teach
school. Daddy says, to Mother’s in
dignation, that it was less Mother
and more the red dress that she
wore in a Memorial Day parade,
that attracted him. Mother had a
hometown beau and wasn’t too in
terested in Daddy, but he finally
convinced her of his good qualities
and they were married the day after
school was out.
With my arrival three years later.
Daddy assumed the role of the dot
ing father. Mother still teases him
about the time when he became in
furiated at the visiting minister be
cause the preacher made the mistake
of saying I looked more like Mother
than Daddy. I remember one day,
when I was five. Daddy took me to
the “Black Gat”, a negro casino
close;! during the week, and let mo
wrap myself in the crepe-paper left
over from the Saturday night dance.
When I got home, Mother put mo
in a steaming tub to rid me of germs
and blessed Daddy out. “Well, she’s
MY child, isn’t she?” Daddy
shouted, completely forgetting that
Mother had anj' part in my being
here at all.
Daddy’s great love is people.
When I was seven, he assumed the
managership of Morehead’s one hotel
and we moved there for the winter.
Daddy thoroughly enjoyed himself,
socializing with the guests and mak
ing Mother’s life miserable by in
sisting that she give up the mission
ary society meetings and play bridge
with the guests ofi Monday after
noons.
^Mother has always enjoyed being
an active member of all civic organ
izations. I shall never forget ^the
holocaust Daddy raised when she
announced she had been elected
president of the missionary,, society.
‘ ‘ Why don’t you just sit back and
let somebody else do the work? You
can’t say no to anybody.” Scarcely,
two weeks later, he came home one
night and said that he had been
elected President of the Rotary Club.
“Wonderful bunfeh of fellows, those
boys. Sure appreciate being elec
ted. ’ ’ Mother and I exchanged
glances, but she said nothing.
With all his masculine blustering
and shouting, Daddy is, in some
ways, as fastidious as an old maid.
Every night before he goes to bed,
he tours the house, banging the doors
twice to make sure they’re locked,
and turning off the -skater so that
the faucets won’t leak. He runs a
fan summer and winter because he
likes to hear the noise. He won’t
stay at a party latpr than twelve
and insists that the whole family
retire at the same time so that “I
can go to sleep and not worry about
where everybody is.” He considers
himself very independent, but when
Mother goes visiting for a week,, he
is comifletely lost and complains
about the lack of organization.
He has had his hand in every
business venture in town and has
done everything from running a pic
ture show to managing a filling sta
tion. What he’ll do next and what
he ’11 say next, nobody knows. That’s
wliat makes Life with Father what
it is. I
Boney Reviews Fashions
At Salem and Davidson
For new Valentine gowns at Salem
see Boney’s fashion news.
by Betsy B?ney
Amid a shower of hearts and
eupids, the A. A. sponsored a wonder
ful dance in the gym Saturday night
to celebrate Valentine’s Day. The
Salem girls took advantage of leap
year to invite their heart’s choice
to trip the light fantastic and to
show off their new formals. (Pre
sents from Santa of course!)
Eaton Seville resembled a very
sweet Valentine, (any man would
love) in her shining red satin. TJhe
skirt was shirred in rows from the
waist to the floor. The top was
strapless, most provocative.
Agnes lowers danced merrily in
an eye-eatching red net ballerina.
The strapless top is made of lace
sprinkle with rhinestones. A note
of glamour is the tiny red lace
shawl worn over the shoulders or
draped over her head.
Lou Myatt took her Valentine
dress down to Davidson, where we’re
sure she caught many a glance. Her
dress was a pale shade of red ap
propriately called “Pink Lightn
ing”. An interesting feature is the
sparkling rhinestone straps which
fasten like a necklace around her
neck. Very fetching.
Janie Morris says her date didn’t
like her dress. We can’t under
stand why. Janie wore a beautiful
grey chiffon, splashed on shoulders
and skirt with huge pink and red
roses.
Mary Jane Trager wore a beauti
ful black lace and net dress. The
strapless top was‘made of lace and
ended in a peplum at the hips.
Connie Neamond wore a black
dress. The skirt features rows of
different colored cord.
June Elder wore another of her
beautiful “Southern belle” dresses
with a huge hoop skirt.
Mary Louise White wore her new
black taffeta dress to Davidson. Her
date proudly told her her slip was
showing, but it was only the blue
ruffle sewn so coyly beneath the
skirt.
At the tea dance, hostess Peggy
Watkins looked lovely in her royal
blue crepe, splashed with silver
sequins around the neck. Jean Grif
fin was charming in her honey
beige satin suit. Susie Knight wore
a good-looking dress of black crepe
with a gold lame top.
Of course we didn’t get to see all
the newest dresses because several of
the Salemites packed their bags and
went to Davidson and State. We
hear that Jean Dungan wore a stun
ning dress. Helen Brown’s maroon
(Continued on Page Six)