Newspapers / Montreat College Student Newspaper / Nov. 1, 1948, edition 1 / Page 3
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November, 1948 THE DIALETTE Page 3 Stayed Here “Say, what did you do long week-end ?'” “Oh, I stayed here; and let me tell you — we had the best time!” “You mean you had a GOOD time HERE?” “Oh, yes. Let me tell you about it. After the last taxi-load of girls drove away, and a queer sort of quietness had descended upon the campus, we settled down for a nice restful ( ? ?) week-end. “Friday night most of us rode to Black Mountain in the bus to see LARCENY and then returned to haunt the halls of the dorms until bedtime. “Saturday was a lazy day for some and a day of study for the more studious ones. But then, everybody turned out for the big picnic supper at the Rec Hall where Miss DuBose led us in games and where we had more food! There was just oodles of it and we ate and ate and ate. Then, strange to say, we were still able to skate; and what a good time everyone had — even those who were just learning — just ask Bet ty Marshall. “After we skated, the day still wasn’t complete. Guess what we did — we went to the late show — I mean the lOrOO - 12:00, too. We saw JULIA MISBEHAVES, and laugh — I thought I would die! It was so cute. “Sunday morning found nearly everyone in bed until a late hour. A few managed to get up for Sun day School; and nearly everyone was at church. “The McGregors invited us all down to their house Sunday after noon, and there we had a very en joyable visit. “Sunday night we had a com bined worship service and hymn sing in the Inn Lobby, Alyene Draper told a story and then we sang hymns. “After the sing we all filed into College Hall and there we gather ed in the lobby to pop corn. “Monday morning we woke up with a groan realizing that this was the last day of a very enjoy able week-end. Oh, of course, we were glad to see you all again, but it had been so much f in.” SUPPORT OUR ADVERTISERS If You Are Not A Music Lover You knew the whole thing was a mistake from the very beginn ing — a concert on a school night; but your roommate, belonging to that inexplicable group known as “music lovers,” insisted on your going, murmuring in a rapturous tone something about the absorp tion of classical music aiding in the cultivation of the soul. After a short period of persuasion, during which time she successive ly threatened to hide your last clean pair of pajamas, not to help you with your Business Math any more, and finally, in desperation, to smash your few precious re maining drops of TABU to smith ereens on the bathroom floor, you reluctantly agree t > submit to an hour’s torture. Your roommate having gracious ly offered to lend you her best bath salts upon this amazing con cession, you emerge from a leis urely bath smelling like moonlight in heaven. The crucial questin'.! is, of course, what shall you wear. You favor a short dress — she, an evening dress. Hose and heels are punishment enought, but a billowy skirt flapping around your ankles, lying in wait to trip you upon the slightest provoca tion — huh uh — your musical soul will simply have to subsist on the meager diet offered by boogie and hot jazz over the ra dio. No short dress — no concert; you win. Certainly there will be some other suffering creature at tending the affair who has the gumption not to fool with a long skirt. At last you are ready. Your roommate in her evening regalia makes a grand entrance and swish es up to the very front row in order not to miss anything. But what distressing sight permeates your dulled consciousness as you proceed up the aisle ? Everyone else is wearing evening clothes. You get the once-over from the musical faculty, and after an eternity of stalking along behind your companion, who, to your un steady gaze, has assumed all the grace and charm of an ogre, you thankfully lower yourself into the end seat of the front row and de voutly wish you were somewhere, anywhere else. You glance furtively at the program you find clutched —Continued on page 5 When the pilgrim fathers de cided to thank God for the har vest, they didn’t know what they were starting. From a simple (though perhaps plentiful) har vest feast Thanksgiving has grown to be an institution re quiring the services of many people. Of course the most important contributor is the groceryman who provides for the family dinner. Turkey, plump, brown and (we hope) juicy, stands at the place of honor before the head of the house, stuffed with delicious oys ter dressing and surrounded by sweet potatoes topped with melt ing marshmellows, brightly color ed vegetables, and crisp green salad. Brown rolls split easily and melt the golden butter popped into them. Mince or pumpkin pie finish es off the meal — and usually the family. An increasingly important per son in the celebration is the greet ing card manufacturer who cheers the nation with pictures of over stuffed families in overstaffed chairs, and turkeys who send greetings from the chopping block. No Thanksgiving day is com plete any more without a football game, at which fur-glad sports fans scramble for fifty-yard-line seats, and to which stay-at-homes may listen on the air. This in volves the players, coach, broad casters, and chrysanthemum sales men in the celebration. At Montreat the soccer game that fills the afternoon involves everyone — players, cheerleaders, and numerous spectators. The shivering spectators cheer their favorite team on to victory — or defeat—and then rush back to the welcoming warmth of the dorm to dress for the banquet in the evening. There it appears that an entirely different group from the jeans-clad gang of the after noon has appeared, for brightly STEAK’S ON! We are glad to welcome to Mon treat a new member of the per sonnel!, Mr. Lee H. Tiller, our new chef. Our greeting is also ex tended to his wifg, the former Miss Julia C. Ashley, and their eight year old daughter. Lea Ashley Til ler. Mr. Tiller came to Montreat from Miami, Fla., where he was employ ed at Huylers’. He spent nine years in Hollywood and the Grand Can yon. While in Hollywood he had the honor of preparing many ban quets for famous movie stars. Mr. Tiller has never attended a cooking school; his knowledge came through experience. For twenty-two years he worked under German, French, Italian and Amer ican Chefs, and has been an autho rized chef himself for eight year.s. He was in the Navy for two years, being in charge of the galley at the Night Fighters’ Training Base in Florida. He and his wife met in Miami and have been married for ten years. Before marriage, Mrs. Til ler was a teacher of music in public schools. She is a native of Black Mountain and her mother was a well-known school-teacher there. Mr. Tiller’s specialities in dishes are seafoods and steaks. He en joys deep sea-fishing, and his favorite sports are baseball and football. While in Hollywood, he saw part of the shooting of “Ben Hur.” He has been in all forty- eight states, Mexico, and Canada. We are glad to have the Tillers with us and hope they will enjoy being in Montreat. Most certainly we are looking forward to all the good food that will be coming from the kitchen and we welcome the entire family to Mon treat! colored formals give the Inn the appearance of a summer garden. A varied program for a great day. But in the midst of the fest ivity we must remember to stand as they did on that first Thanks giving day, and say “Thank You” to God for His goodness to us. SUPPORT OUR ADVERTISERS RICE’S QUALITY STORE DRY GOODS & NOTIONS READY-TO-WEAR CLOTHES Corner State St. Montreat Road
Montreat College Student Newspaper
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Nov. 1, 1948, edition 1
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