Newspapers / Salem College Student Newspaper / April 24, 1953, edition 1 / Page 2
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Page Two THE SAL E M1 T E April 24 %/e ^ake. .... We don’t have time, you know; we take it. We take a little from a game of bridge after dinner. Two hands can be as much fun as six. We take a little from a visit to the soda shop. We just don’t sip quite as slowly or (|uite as long. AVe take a little from a bull session on how we’ll ever live the year out with tests and club activities piled up. AVe take a little of our “worry time” and do some of the things we worry about. AVe sacrifice a little smoking time if we. smoke, a little gum chewing time if we chew. AA^e scrap and save and hoard some minutes, maybe some hours. And we can use them. AA^'e can use them Tuesday and Wednesday. And if we use them to listen to and talk with Dr. Hayes Proctor, philosopher, Ave can save them still. ScUe4H QcuH 9t Q^1044A? . . ' We are a small college. Shall we keep it that way? Today higher Avages and better opportuni ties are available for the person Avho has a (U)llege degree. A college education is con sidered a sound financial investment. More people are making an effort to go to college. This aaTII definitely boost the stand ard of American society, though the purpose of attending college may be monetary. Since there is a definite swing toward edu cation in general, there is a SAving toward enrollment at Salem. Salem has been known as a small church- related college. By being small Salem has a personal atmosphere that is unavailable in large universities and colleges. Salem’s college bulletin says, “ . . . the close contact existing between students and faculty is of prime importance.” How close can a professor’s contact be if he has a large class? The fame of Salem is spreading all over the II. S. More applications are coming in this year than last year. Certainly, Salem coAild loAver prices Avere it to increase enrollment. Possibly, there could be several necA'^ buildings, more visual educa tion and more luxuries we do not necessarily need. Salem can increase it’s enrollment slightly without much expansion. IIoAv much can Salem groAv and still be a small college? @iB Hairdos mnfc OnUM Pi OFFICES Lower floor Main Hall Downtown Office 304-306 South Main Street Printed by the Sun Printing Company Subscription Price : $3.00 a year ; Published every Friday of Student Body of the College year by Salem College the Calhoun Associate Editors Managing Editor Alison Britt, Connie Sally Murray Reiland By Betsy Liles It seems that the first pansy that pops oiit in Miss Anna’s garden and the first day that the radiators don’t hiss out morning greetings, Salemites sail to the beauty shop to get a spring hairdo. Full of excitement and fear (for this is a terribly major undertaking), a typi cal Salem girl stands long before her mirror swishing her hair this way and that \\'ay while she smiles and winks at herself, and studies the fashion magazines from cover to cover. All the Vogues and Bazaars gush this way if she has long hair: “The thing you, darling, just must do with those mousy strings of yours ' is cut I The truly chic hairdo for gals this season is the sleek cap effect. Cut darlings, cut!” But if she has already sheared, the magazines advise: “To attain that dainty, desirable, and utterly feminine air, let your curls grow long, gals. Let them groAV and grow and grow, darlings!” And with a mental picture of a warm moonlight night and a long page boy hanging out some ivory tower, the Salem girl brushes and brushes. And of course whether she de cides to try for the cap effect, or the utterly feminine air, she must grow a new personality for the hairdo. If she cuts, she has to assume a devil-may-care look, one of those imp grins Avhich are sup posed to drive men devastatmgly wild, and don natty little scarves. If she decides to wear her ciirls down to her toes, she has to be come not only like the girl he d bring home to mama but grand- mama too, and that “honey chile, ain’t you big and strong’ gaze. The fashion dictators are not satisfied to talk their readers into a hairdo that’s conventional. JNo, it must be an upsweep that at a moment’s notice can become a downsweep, or a pompadour which will be at home at a cocktail party or a chitlings fry. The mags croon, “You must be terribly ver satile, darlings. AVe gals are eman cipated career gals now • • • time for hairdos that we gals have to pamper.” However, fortunately, Salem girls have discovered a pamperer for their hairdos—the benevolent ker chief. It emancipates from the curlers when one may assume that devil-may-care air about rolling her hair up or it lends a humble and demure peasant atmosphere when the Salem girl takes on the “please don’t give little ole me a calldown for wearing a kerchief” role. Three hurrahs for the kerchief, girls, even though the gals in Vogue don’t approve. Country ®a By Mary Anne Raines AVhen I came to the city I Avas jest a country gal. My ma done told me ’fore I left “Now mind yore manners Sal.” I put them pinchin’ shoes on And my fapcy Sunday dress Even Uncle Hiram said That I really dooked my best. When I first saw the city It were really quite a show. The folks with all their bundles Were hurrying to and fro. The buildings were right purty, But they seemed so bloomin’ tall. * They really made a hit with me Though I feared that they might fall. The folks at home done told me That the people here were swell. They said that they’d Avatch out fer me And were gonna treat me well. But these here gol-durned crit ters Are the Avorstest I done seen. The gals are downright silly And the fellars are plumb mean. I think I’ll go back home now Cause I’m tired as I can be. This here city with its noise It jest ain’t the place fer me. If I were in the mountains I’d be settin’ in a chair. I wouldn’t have no shoes on Nor no ribbon in my hair. Ma AA'ould be milkin’ the cow And Pa would be tendin’ the still And Sam would be huntin’ coons On the other side of the hill. Our farm t’aint nothing special But still it is my home. And when I finally git thar I ain’t never gonna roam. You gals with all yore frilly gowns And beads from here to there Won’t know what living really is Till you smell that mountain air. On The ”El By Connie Murray in her left arm and a cigarette in The thick, lazy heat of the early her right hand. She seemed to me Feature Editor Betsy Liles Feature Assistant Bessie Smith Copy Editor Bebe Boyd Make-up Editor Donald Caldwell Pictorial Editor Lu Long Ogburn Headline Editor Betsy Turner Music Editor Edith Flagler Sports Editor Lou Fike Editorial Staff; Laurie Mitchell, Jean Edwards, Sarah Out- land, Barbara Allen, Sue Harrison, Louise Barron, Jackie Neilson, Eleanor Smith, Martha Thornburg,, Diane Knott, Francine Pitts, Betty Tyler, Jane Brown, Betty Lynn Wilson, Mary Anne Raines, Frieda Siler, Carolyn Knee- burg, Anne Edwards. Business Manager Joan Shope Advertising Managers Maggie Blakeney, Marguerite iflanton Circulation Manager Toddy jSmith Business Staff: Sally Hackney, Peggie Horton, Cagolyn Watlington, Betty Saunders, June Kipe, Claire Chestnutt, Diantha Carter, Ann Butler, Thelma Lancaster, Mary McNeely Rogers, Betty Morrison, Bebe Brown. Typists Joyce Billings. Ann Butler, Eleanor Smith July afternoon enveloped me as I waited on the platform of the north Chicago elevated train sta tion. The sunlight seemed to drift casually over the earth, letting its rays settle like dusting poAvder, dulling the shiny finish of the black rails. The street below was crowded with cars and buses, a blur of black and yellow and red, and the dissonant, rhythmic noise of the traffic accented the silence on the platform. Cigar smoke, rising and falling with the breeze, spiraled its W'ay from an elderly man to my nostrils. The crackling of a newspaper being folded announced the arrwal of the “el” as it came into sight a block away. The train dragged itself up to the platform and stopped with a sigh. The door opened and the passengers listlessly clambered out. With a lurch it moved again, and the houses began to pass quickly through the frame my window formed. I took a deep breath and felt as if my lungs were filling with dust, for everything in the car was dirty. The view from my seat of fered no escape; the train was passing an endless pattern of con nected five-story wooden buildings. The small porches were a maze of cluttered clotheslines, overflow ing garbage cans, and empty beer bottles. A young woman dropped Faculty Advisor Miss Jess Byrd on a chair on her porch—a baby THi. the epitome of poverty and un happiness ; everything about her was tired—her clothes, her appear ance, her expression. The train wobbled from side to side, making my throat tighten at intervals to surpress a feeling of nausea. I twisted cautiously in my seat not wanting to be caught un- aAvare by a sudden stop of the “el.” The seat covers scratched my bare arms as I turned—the rnaterial pricked like short, dry grass. A peroxide blonde beside me, glancing nervously at her watch, sent waves of cheap cologne in every direction. The steady click- clack, click-clack of the iron wheels carried me to Michigan Boulevard. The momentum ceased tempo rarily to let three laughing, red faced men on the “el.” They argued the merits of the “Dogers” and the “Cubs” for a few moments, then, as if in reverence for the silence they had broken, settled passively in their seats. I envied and resented their nonchalant at titudes, their pleasure in riding the “el.” Through the smoke the call “Michigan Boulevard” sounded and my body responded instantly and instinctively. ^ I waited at the door that would slide open and emit me to the outside and tried to balance myself against the jolts of the “el.” A screech like the wail of an owl a pause and I stepped out onto the platform. By Betty L3mn Wilson Tis the 24th of April, in ’53. And hardly a girl is there alit'e Who’s forgotten this famous time of the year. For all have experienced a faintness of heart, When they realize that to dance miius a date is far from smart! Such Avas the case Letitia Lou—our herob. The beginning of our story started long a., Avhen our girl’s ma cut and pinned, stitclSj and scAved until she had created the go^i (AAmuld love to describe said gOAvn, but Ja,. ques Path is after the idea). That divim creation by artist hands AAms put aivay f(, seasoning until—the day. The day Avas May second and two weeli prior, Letitia Lou took stock of her gooikaiil found that she Avas Avell supplied—girl, dras night, dance card. Only one item Avas ing from the stock room—the date 1 And tli AAmuld be on the Avay as soon as she proposs the proposal to the man. The one Avas on his Avay to see our heroin and thoughts of the future jumped in h head as she remembered the—fellow. Hewi tall and husky and had the brownest ejs that Carolina oAvned (or had any claim and Avas sure to say “yes” Avhen she poppd the question. Carolina’s representative arrived about fe o’clock and he and Letitia Lou Avere oftl have a big evening in Winston-Salem. Letitia Lou, finding herself extreme! hungry after a big afternoon of preparatiii for the date, subtly suggested their place rendezvous by murmuring “I certainly coi enjoy a steak tonight.” Dinner turned out to be just what Letiti had. dreamed of; a delightful plate of s| ghetti. Well, at least she didn’t get dii trying to wind her spaghetti on her fork! she did the last time. Dinner Avas over and our young lov were eager to—dance, so they raced out Hilltop and spent seA^eral hours in the s atmosphere. The music box played our lovec tune—Montavoni’s “Charmaine”, and one Avasn’t so favorite—“Doggy In The Windon' Horatio (such is our hero named) and 1 tAvirled and tAvirled until eleven o’clock they decided to head back toward cobblestoi college. “Horatio,” she purred, “our May Day is the second and I’d love to have you coffi She breathlessly Avaited for our hero’s ansK but the excitement turned to rage Horatio said, “Gosh, I’d like to come, 1 bunch of bo'ys from the fraternity house sort of planning a stag party, and I thouj I’d go to that.” “Well! I hope .von have a good tii boiled Letitia Lou, “and good night, Horatio Smith!” She Avpuld just place a call to Davidson s.ee Avhat could be accomplished in that dii tion. Eath if she had turned doAvn his vitation to Spring Frolics, she was sure Ci# Avould enjoy a dance at Salem. ' Monday came, as did Tuesday, Wednesiif and Thursday. ‘ Each day her determimt*>j to call Cicero grew stronger, and each ft she put off making the call until tomorn* Thursday, as Letitia had given up all hopd hearing from Horatio (who was supposed* change his mind),, she trotted over to the W store to get a fistful of change. . Meanwhile, from Chapel Hill via the Unit'' States Postal Department a letter from^* ratio Avas speeding toAvard Salem for Le# accepting the invitation to the May dam* M ould the letter arrive in ime ? Our ine Avas trotting back from the drug store®* and in a very short while she vrould be s; mg with Cicero. As she stepped in the date room of''' dorm, she Avas called to a bridge game stayed there until dinner. At six, she fk'* the dining hall, tore through dinner and''^ racing back to make that phone call v)* her roomie suggested a trip to the post of® to dust out he box. , • plodded across the square and m their eubbie hole. A faint shadow co* be detected through the little windoAy, a® Letitia ripped the little door open. Thcj' “ trom Horatio—Avell, Of All Things!
Salem College Student Newspaper
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April 24, 1953, edition 1
2
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