3>ofU€f 9h 74e QltofiU.: Around Tho Sc|uoro
There are several possible explanations for
the squirming and whispering and dozing that
goes on in chapel.
None of them justify the impropriety of dis
tracting a speaker with one’s giggle or the
rudeness of sliding down in one’s seat for a
nap. But three of these explanations, put
together, give a fairly complete picture of the
One group puts the blame on the admini
stration. “Chapel should not be required,
i^tudents are naturally going to rebel against
something they’re made to do or attend.
Nothing can overcome the mental block they
build up against required chapel and the
people they are required to listen to.”
Another group of speculators blame the stu
dents. “College students are not interested
in education. And chapel is just another re
quirement for graduation. As long as they
can get by with it, they’ll keep on using the
12:30 hour for social conversation, a quick
nap, and memorization of the hymnal.”
Then there is the chapel committee—a com
posite of faculty, administration and students.
Most students do not know which people
around campus are responsible for our chapel
programs, so nobody intends personal offense
when they fuss about boring speakers.
And most people who complain^that bore
dom is good enough reason for squirming and
whispering have never tried to lure person
alities to our campus at an ungodly hour of
the day with promise of a college-girl audieneii
and a refectory lunch. Certainly the com
mittee has a hard time.
But proof that we do have responsive turns
Jies in the reaction of students to the quiz
program, or the numerous carol sings, or Susie
Glaser and her music students.
College girls are alive and different and
eager—most of them. And they need chapel
programs with variety, color, and flavor. Pro
grams that succeed have these qualities and
usually go over well.
But many of the chapel speakers have been
inexcusably dull, general, and incompetent.
In a sense it is admirable that we are not
awed into submissive attention by the titles or
degrees of our speakers. No matter how digni
fied a r?>>bi, or a Ph. D., or an expert-on-this-
or-that, we still let our minds Avander^ when
his terms become trite and general. We still
squirm when his stage personality is weak and
ineffectual and eve still continue to lose faith
in a speaker Avho reads his speech \Amrd-for-
Those students Avho blame the administra
tion Avould adA'oeate, as a remedial act, the
free cutting of chapel.
Those Avho blame the attitude and aim of
the students Avould propose the elimination of
Those Avho think chapel could become an
instrument of joint, enjoyable, varied learning
experienc'cs have quite a task before them.
Positively Ave must advocate better speakers.
And if this means feAver speakers and more
student-participation programs, then let us
have feAver speakers.
An offshoot of the liberal theory of educa
tion implies that learning should be pleasur
able and can take place in more Avays than a
lecturer-listener relationship. If Ave cannot
have good speakers, ignore the halanced-sehe-
dule and give us programs in which Ave can
participate—mentally or otherwise.
Then Ave Avill come to chapel twice a Aveek
and not have to remind ourselves that Ave
must keep aAvake.
ej . O.
StadMt Body of
the CoUefle yeer by the
Subscription Price—$3J0 a yew
OFFtCES—Ixswei floor Mato Hall
Dowatosra Ofllee J04-S06 South Mala Street
Prtoted by the Stm Priatto* Coaotjany
Mary Benton Royster
Be be Bovd
.. ...Martha Ann Kennedy
Sue Jette Davidson
_. . _. Peggy Horton
Ella Ann Lee. Beth Paul
By Emily McClure
Having nothing else to do, Ave
played a game of musical chairs
down in the catacombs this week,
and it turned out that the colum
nist is playing the editor, and the
editor is playing the columnist. In
this literary drama, the columnist
is sadly miscast and consequently,
poetic justice is in for the Avorst.
Enough introduction; let’s have
a little criticism. Ransom, the
Bobby Greenleaf Story Avith a
happy ending (all this for fifty
cents), flicked Glenn Ford on the
screen in his typical suspenseful
cold-b e a d s-of-s av e a t role, and
brought about remarks as disparate
as they AA'ere unusual. One Avas
that Glenn Ford “looked like a
monkey on TV” and another
likened him to ‘Svalking death
gnaAving on a cracker”. I guess
that proves Salem girls have not
lost their creative impulse.
My opinion? I didn’t see the
* * sK
The girls in Sisters have de
veloped a sudden hunger for cul
ture. They battled four flights of
stairs to transform the dorm into
a living scene from Ancient Greece.
Busts, statues, and bas-reliefs have
taken Nelson Tomlinson’s place as
first exhibit. Better invite Dr.
Spencer over before you have to
slip a disc taking them back to
the attic, girls.
* * ♦
The stork brings news of Sherry
Rich Newton and Sarah Johnson
Durham, former members of the
class of ’57. Sherry and her hus
band, who is a student at George
Washington University, live in
Hyattsville, Maryland. Sarah and
Pender are now in Lumberton.
Controversy of the day—is Tem
ple Daniel’s bed really an antique?
Temple came back from toAvn the
other day, with a discoverer’s gleam
in her eye, dragging the head and
foot of Avhat she asserted Avas a
17th century pure maple bed that
Avas “very, very valuable.” She had
paid only ten dollars for this
“find”. Her proof is that the bed
is put together Avith w'ooden pegs.
A feAV down-to-earth realists
brought out the fact that it also
contains six screAvs. Some people
just never Avould believe in Santa
Incidentals: Dr. Africa has a
sense of humor. Ask anyone in
American History . . . Stone,
noAv in the Practice House, is
learning Iioaa' to “Hoover the rug
(rqaid lingo for vaccum) ... Be
careful next time you turn on the
shoAver. Susie Glaser tried it and
got permanent ink instead of water.
For details, see Martha Thornburg
and Ella Ann Lee . . . Emma Mc-
Cotter attended Fancy Dress at
Washington and Lee in a bat cos
tume and Avas addressed Avith this
complimentary remark—“KneAV you
Avere a fat Avoman but not a bat
Avoman”—Ah. the days of chivalry
. . . The seniors are electing a com
mittee to search old records for
the purpose of proving they have
AA’on a game in athletic competition
. . . Another committee is that
being created in the Home Ec.
Dept, to decide Avhat to do Avith
11 cakes and 11 batches of biscuits
produced in Experimental Cookery
. . . The Sisters’ girls searched for
a mathematical genius to work out
their phone bill, and finally decided
on Lillian Holland, veteran of three
sessii-is of Trig . . . There is a real
character named "YoYo”. Linda
Chappel is pinned to him, and his
real name is Tommy Williford . . ,
Mary Avera and Sujette Davidson
agree on the state, but not the
school. Mary will spend the Aveek-
end at UVA and Sujette at VPI
. . . Ann Campbell is planning what
she says is only her second Aveek-
end trip this year. Hmmm, does
charm not pay ? . . . Sarah Eason
is not satisfied Avith our robed
scholars, and is importing a Caro
lina psychology professor for the
Aveek-end, I gathered the purpose
hoAvever, is not intellectual en
lightenment . . . Barbara Durham
and Mary Alice Ryals were seen
Avearing sarongs and dancing to
Polynesian music before leaving
for Chapel Hill and the Sigma Chi
South Seas party ... A literary
survey seems to bring out these
preferences in the freshman, sopho
more, junior and senior classes, re
spectively — Modern Romances,
Confidential, Time, and the Bride’s
Magazine. Completes, a cycle,
doesn’t it—or does it?
Dentals: The unfortunate state
of mind and the ensuing stay in
the infirmary is one reason for the
limited scope of this column. You
realize, of course, that is merely
an excuse for my blank muse.
Beyond the Square
. Ann Darden Webb
Miss Jess Byrd
By Emma McCotter ^
United States: Last week Rus
sia’s ambassador, Georgy Zarubin,
met Avith President EisenhoAver. At
this time he read Marshall Bul
ganin’s invitation to a 20-year non
aggression pact between the United
States and the U. S. S. R.
The President later refused the
invitation. He thought that in
order to make such an agreement
there must be a change of spirit.
The Soviet proposal—on the eve of
Eden’s trip to Washington—for a
deal betAveen the U. S. and the
U. S. S. R. Avas a nightmare pro
spect for the U. S.’s allies in both
Europe and Asia. Bulganin doubt
less hoped it Avould reinstate him
in his favorite propaganda role as
EisenhoAver’s skillful, moderate
reply not only exposed the holloAv-
ness of the Russian plea but clearly
implied that the real hope of set
tling the cold Avar lay in the con
tinued solidarity of the anti-Com-
NATO: In Europe doubts have
arisen as to the worth of this or
ganization, the first of its kind in
the world’s history. The Supreme
Commander in Europe, General
Gruenther, has been spending a
great deal of his time touring
Europe trying to prove the worth
of the organization.
It’s only justification for being,
and by no means a secondary one,
is as a peacetime AA'eapon of the
cold Avar. In its seven short years
of life, NATO has served Avell. It
has created a community poAverful
enough to deter its enemy, healthy
enough to survive family squables
so far, binding enough so that no
member has wished to withdraAA^,
Italy: The Folies-Bergere of
Paris (putting on a feAV more
clothes when it goes on the road)
Avas standing-room-only in Naples.
The Vatican has Avarned: “This
vaudeville company has a specialty
of arousing what in former times
Avere called the loAvest instincts.
Undeterred, hoAvever, the Follies
Avent on Avith its plans to open in
Rome’s Sistine Theater, not to be
confused Avith the Sistine Chapel.
The Middle East: Last week Dag
Hammarskjold, chief of the U. N.’s
staff of international men in white,
toured the tense Middle East capi
In Cairo he Avas able to get
Egyptian consent to his plan for
healing Egypt’s worst Israeli bor
der sore spot, the demilitarized
desert crossroads at El Auja, where
blood flowed freely last November.
Each side agreed to pull back its
forces and let the U. N. go ahead
and fix the demarcation lines.
Throughout his trip he listened
sympathetically and would only say
that he had now “got a fairly com
plete map” of the problems.
By Mary Walton
A few Aveeks previous to this incident ti
wliirlwind of school had picked me up j^g *
leaf and tvhirled me furiously and, it seemed
almost aimlessly round and round. ’
Then one day I was hurled from the wliirf.
iii^ mass and flung into a seat upholstered in
a green, scratchy material. I tvas at last at
But was I? The people and baggage as
sembled in the building that I eonld see
through a window beside me suddenly Inrclied
and then slid out of view Avithout a bohhle; as
though they Avere being carried by a: huge
conveyor belt. As the building itself slid by
reality began to daAvn on me—I Avas the;artide
on the conveyor belt, and my bus Avas tie .con
A glance at the yellow ticket crumpled in
my hand indicated that my destinatipn d?as
“Glen Alpine”. In stride Avith the modern
.spirit, I passively submitted, to this conveyor
belt, Avhich Avas to be my microcosm for the
next three hours.
In the process of settling back in my seat,
I discovered Avith dismay that I could not lean
my head back because the long, high bads of
the seat curved forAvard at exactly the most
unappropriate spot and placed me in exactly
the most imcomfortable position. I pulled my
self np into a stiff, observant posture and
began to observe.
As I turned inv eyes toAvard my AvindoAf, 1
Avas startled by the splotches of color 1 saw.
The reds and greens and yelloAvs ran together,
thinly veiled by the sunny haze of an autimin
afternoon. But the shaded trunks of the trees
stood distinct and black. From the road they
looked like the stems of a colorful bouquet.
A hue of purple covered the mountains
looming ahead, and at their summit the red
sun SAvam in a golden Ampor. Further up in
the sky, the pink Avisps of clouds gradually
lost their color and became a part of the night
already blackening the east.
The bus rolled steadilyq its destination dif
ferent for every passenger—too many goals to
single out one as all important. Behind me
r heard, a conAwrsation betAveen a man and a
“I’ll realty shoAV you a good time!”
“Here’s some money — meet me at eleven'
o’clock in Marion.”
“I knoAv of a place on the lake Avdiere . ..
Unable to shut out their words, I was thanh-
fid for the abilitj' of dusk to hide a blnsh.
About fifteen miles from my destination, the
woman got off.
I made my thoughts wander home to all the
iicAvs I had for my family and they had for
me. AVe made another stop fixm miles ffo®
The local bus line was out of business, and
about twenty working people, mostly Negros,
boarded onr bus. A white woman found a
seat beside me, but many were not so lucly
and had. to. stand in the aisle.
Considerable commotion started behind mq
and scA'eral remarks were flung hack and
forth: “I paid for my ticket.” “I
mine, too.” Suddenly the familiar voice of
the man whose coiiAmrsation I had overheard
earlier boomed out, “Bus driver, stop this h®
and come back here.”
At the first stoplight the driver left his sea
and made his way to the back of the bus,
glanced over the back of my seat and^ sa'ff
sitting beside the man a white-haired coiore
lady holding two big bundles and a cuffibei-
some shopping hag. Her dark, sensitive eyes
AATre looking straight ahead.
^ The man refused to have her sit beside
The driA'er, having no choice, said, “Lady, '
the man objects, I’m afraid I’ll have to asK
you to give np your seat.” .,
• She gathered np her bundles and rose ^
out a word.. Her acquiescence spurred on
remarks from those of her color sitting ^
by. The white man lapsed stubbornly’ a
fearfully into silence after the Negros tbre
ened to throw him out the window. ., i j
By that time every one on the bus b® ^
seat except the old colored woman a®
young colored girl. The sight of the
bundles and her age made me feel very
of place, but she kindly refused
fered her my seat upon agreement 'wnb
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