North Carolina Newspapers

    ! j- 1 ,
I ! •
Page Two
Tjie Hilltop
Plain Living and High Thinking**
Entered at the Post Office, Mars Hill, N. C., as Second Class Matter, Feb. 20, 1926
Member Southeastern Junior College Press Association.
Editor Fai.k ]ohnson
Associate Editor Sam 'Iustice
Assistant Managing Editor Mark Orr
Society Editor Sara Corpening
State Editor Robert Burnett
Religious Editor (Temp.) Evelyn Morgan
Sports Editor Frank Watson
Alumni Editor Thomas Speed
Poetry Editor Ruamie Squires
Intercollegiate Editor (Temp.) -Ci.aude Dili.s
Faculty Adviser __Jo„n A. McI>eod
Business Manager c Jones
Advertising Manager M. C. Tj'AGUE
Circulation Manager .Ai.bert SuT-n.i'
Typists . William Ciiamiiers, h’.i.r/.AnETH Shipman
Reporters: Gholston Myrick, Clifford Monteith, Alma Reid, and Dorothv 'Putt.
Mars Hill—
by WilierWunchel I
The Comeback Kid
I had just drifted back to the city
after an unprofitable tour of the mid
dle west with my young welter hoi>e,
. i Lefty Bryan. To begin with, the
Salutations, gentle readers. Here’s i^ates had been slim, and we were
your little pal Wilter back again with barely making coffee and cake money.
his choice morsels of gossip and non
sense, after having survived the pit-
falls of the Yuletide season. You
know, that’s the rage now—i.e. to tell
people what a simply degrading time
you had during a vacation period.
From all reports it seems that most
when what does Lefty do but up and
get stopped in two rounds by Irish
Tony Sappeni in Peoria. The result
is that Lefty tosses in the sponge and
prodigals back to his folks in Pitch
Fork, Okla., while I beats it back
of the pupils of learning kicked off i e^^^^^^ssingly lack-
the lid during the Noel period and i good old medium of ex-
went the full limit. We wouldn’t be ! Pluribus Unum.
MARS HILL, N. C., JANUARY 14, 1933
No. 7
surprised to hear that some may even
have stayed up until eleven o’clock
during the holidays.
The other day two young gentle
men were walking across the campus
and chanced to meet a co-ed coming
from the opposite direction. Each of
the lads had a greeting on the tip
A few days later I drop in at Mike
Seltzer’s for a game of pool to get
my mind off the Readjustment (com
monly known as the Depression), and
who should I meet up with but my
old friend, Pat Galvin. Pat was a
member of the Boxing Commission,
a former glove artist, and godfather
in general to the fight racket in the
For The Larger Library
Were you ever in the Library trying to read—trying hard to
read—when some one with a superficially polite “excuse me”
crawled laboriously over you into a chair farther out the row.?
Some have. Were you ever deeply concentrated—delightfully
concentrated and have some one politely ask your pardon as they
knocked the book from the arm of your chair in passing. Some
have. Were you*ever intensely determined to finish that term
paper or that debate if you could only spread out your data for
efficient work—and find no table on which to work.? Some have.
Were you ever headed for the Library on a rainy afternoon ready
to thoroughly enjoy your indoor work—and find every chair taken.?
Some have.
It was the knowledge of these circumstances that impelled those
attending the alumni banquet in Charlotte last fall to declare their Z
support to the enlargement of the Library. It was these circum- | for me to make the initial move. I
stances that caused Dr. Moore to state that the next major campus | fear that if every person waits for the
improvement would be the enlargement of the Library. For these : other to speak first our campus would
reasons the Library and Executive committees of the College ap- j resemble a reservation
proved the recommendation. '
of his tongue, but the young lady I city.
passed by without so much as batting} “Well, hcl—lo, Jimmy!” he booms
an eyelid, so the two youths went on | on seeing me. “Gosh, I ain’t seen you
their way with their salutations | since that night they raided Dugan’®,
clinging to the roofs of their mouths, j What have yuh been doin’ with yer-
“Why—uh, I’ve been—”
“Oh yeah—I remember now. You’
ve been out in the Corn Belt with a
Whew!” exclaimed one. “Was
that high-hattin’ it or just plain
old family pride?”
'Neither,” replied his compan
ion. “Just inferiority complex.”
And though this comment was made
in jest, we find a modicum of truth in
it. How often do we pass someone
on the campus without speaking sim
ply because they did not speak first?
Many feel that they are being high-
hatted because they pass unspoken to,
but I would rather believe those who
I shall not weep abo
Not that I bear no a
But I have closed with
that door »ir
Upon my grief, and itjNc
I shall not grieve for yL^
are dead, |
My dull and heavy heJj
is bent
In utter subjugation to
My grief is hid, and I
But what if in the da
sadness like a
should tlirust
A pale green shoot int
And nourish it with
to dust:
Would this dull heavy i
travail bring
My sorrow into power in
things been
young w’elter. How’s
breakin’ for yuh?”
I spiels off the hard luck yam.
“Gash, now ain’t that tough?” he
sympathises. “But that’s the way
they go, Jimmy. Don’t worry, there’s
plenty more good mitten slingers
runnin’ around loose. Blamed if I ev
er seen the town so full of young up-
and-comers as it is now. Every home
town champ from Padooka to Mudflat
Comers has come up here to grab off
£qj. i the title and take it back to the home
A New Ye
Old Father time is mig»g(
And makes his progranlH
The pages of our life
As lived from year to yJ C
The many things we
To brand our lives succi
The many knocks we mu
To warrant happiness.
A New Year means an
Forgetting days of strifjfg)
Just letting laughter tal -
Within our daily life.
Now that a New Year 
so let’s try to be the first to
T-i J J r jj-.- • TTT-ii , I speak even if we are snooted a few
ine demands ror the addition are growing. - Will the support I times.
meet the demands.? i o
folks. By the way,” he exclaims To offer those who see.
The depression must have hit Kris
changing the subject, “I want to show
yuh somethin’ interestin’. Grab yer
lid—it’s only a couple blocks.”
We saunter down the street talk-
1 lie l\ ew 1 ear
Krii^yle. this ve^^r because he failed I over old , ^nd presently
leave a diary in my sock (or may-
The new year is like a clean white sheet upon which through ' be it slipped out through a hole),
to le
the next twelve months we will write our lives—that we have
heard. We have realized its truth. We have determined to write
beautifully, to write carefully, and to erase seldom.
Yet this new year is not severed from the old. It is not apart
and unrelated. It is a part and is related. You did not wake up
January the first a new and different creature, nor were you un
influenced by the past. Your past years dominated that first day.
It dominated your thoughts, your habits, and your desires for the
This year will be old in twelve months. It’s calendars will be
discarded, but that new year will be controlled by the last. You
will not have a clean white sheet to write carefully and beautifully
upon. For if the book which contains those sheets was dropped
to the ground, if it was handled carelessly, then its pages will be
mud-stained and torn.
Yes, this year is like a clean white sheet—if the last year was.
■ o
An Unfinished Task
Did you ever see a picture that was half painted.? It was ugly
IS a deformed being is ugly. There was something lacking, some
thing amiss ....
Elsewhere in this issue of the Hilltop is a statement of the fi
nancial status of the swimming pool. We request that you study
it carefully.
The classes of 1932 and 1933, with the support of the faculty
and trustees, are giving the pool to the College. Yet there are
about eighty of the C-IIs who have subscribed neither their room
deposits nor an equivalent amount. The cost of the pool has not
yet been fully paid because the full membership of the C-II class
has not yet paid. Until they do pay, their task is unfinished. But
we believe that they will finish it, we believe that these eighty will
do their part.
The C-II class is asking its members to finish the task. Let’s do
it. Let’s subscribe to this. Let’s join those loyal students who
last year gave, believing that they were promoting the growth of
the College and their own development.
Let’s finish the task! Let’s complete the picture!
Expression Studio
Gets New Furniture
A little bit of Oriental color, a lit
tle touch of French quaintness, a lit
tle note of English charm, blended
with a lot of straight American com
fort, make the Expression Studio one
of the most attractive rooms on the
entire campus. The cozy fireplace,
although it is only scenery, makes one
strongly reminiscent of home. The
black flower^stands, foot-stools, and'ways prevails there.
candlesticks convey an exotic impres
sion of a harem, or some such Orient
al court. The real pride of the room,
however, is the deep, soft Persian
rug which, although it is over a week
old, is still tread upon lightly by Miss
Wengert’s students. The new wicker
furniture is enchanting, the like of
which is not found elsewhere on the
The studio is in truth a charming
room, and a pleasant atmosphere al-
but at any r.^te I’ve been having to
write my life history on my shirt
cuffs this annum. Here’s one I re
trieved from the laundry bag:
Sat. Decided to go to break
fast for a change and hopped
out of bed. Put pants on back
wards and shirt wrong side out,
but finally managed to get
straightened out and dashed into
breakfast with the rear guard.
Never did care for cream of
wheat so let cereal pass and not
having a hunger for rice and
sausage 1 failed to partake of
that delicacy, and not seeing
anything else that I cared for I
twiddled my thumbs while the
rest went through their gastro
nomic exercises. Finally, in des
peration I decided to try some
sausage, but my vital organs be
gan playing “You’re Driving Me
Crazy,” so I gave it up as a had
job and wished I was in bed.
After sitting thru classes I went
to dorm to do washing, but as
somebody took my clothes out of
the tub everytime I left them to
soak, and as they blew off the
line when I finally succeeded in
running them thru the process of
washing, I bundled them up and
sent them to the laundry. As the
town was deserted in the after
noon, most of the boys having
gone on their weekly pilgrimage
to Asheville, and as I found noth
ing else to do, 1 indulged in a
bath, it being my week to take
one. Dressed for date at public
program after supper and be
cause of difficulty with tie got to
Spilman several minutes late.
Took limelight away from those
on stage as we stalked into the
chapel amid the gaze of all and
the catcalls from the rear . .
(This is all 1 could read on my
cuff, the rest being blurred by
having rolled up my sleeves).
We have a choice bit of rumors in
store for this week. Dan Cupid is
reported to have worked overtime
during the holidays according to ru
mors rife on the campus. Did some
of our youths fall victims of Cupid’s
shafts in moments of weakness or was
it that some sweet young things were
Straight forw’ard to the
A c* A;-
/~T .••* » was •• •
Father, now my knees I
For a while in prayer to
come on a small park whose beiJeaJj^
are filled with all manner of human
driftwood: drunks, bums, down-and-
outs, and so forth. Some are read
ing papers several days old; others
are talking, in most cases about their t » i , Ji
touKh luck; and u £cw sit silently to
speculatinB as to where their next:"'’'" “’"Hoe
meal—if any—^will come from. As it Help me through the whs- i
is still early, many are stretched out, To help all those who cofice
asleep. Pat stops in front of a „ , , jlo
rasrered figure huddled up on a bench '"11 / jCI
with his back to us, apparently: 1 i
asleep. | Give mo knowledge, faith,p
“There,” points Pat with a flour- ^ always look aboveVm
ish,” lies one of the ^st middle-, Keep me, Father, close toL,
weights in the country!” j
“So that’s the way they’re buryin’ j
the dead now!” I jabs back sarcasti-| —EVELYN
cally. I was put out at having to walk i ^
4'Vtt/"v .l-k1nAl»M J » I?
two blocks just to see a drunken bum
stretched out on a park bench. “Say,
Pat, are you tryin’ to pull one of
your old gags, or are you just plain
off your nut?” With that I pivots
around and starts off.
“Wait a minute, Jimmy,” he pleads.
I ain’t kiddin’ a bit—honest I ain’t.
I admit he don’t look so hot right
now, but you oughta see him in a
“Say, if I was to see that palooka in
a ring I’d consult a optometrist.”
Glancing at the figure on the bench,
I continues, “I reckon that’s the way
he trains—flat on his back—a very
fittin’ posture I must say.” The sub
ject of the discussion heai)es forth a
vociferous snore and I adds bitingly
(Continued on page 4)
[“NOSIN’ ’ROk-
! c
The girls seem to haijob
vantage of the last days { t
Several Mars Hillians, i Rg
jumped off into the bott
of the holy bonds of ms
Scruggs and Flack.m
Hill! They got lost in]
night during the holida;
ered straight to Spilman
Could it be that Did
it trying to be a teo
Gable? Why else wol
the same mo^(ie four tl
Rogers made,a special
the same picture!
taking a last minute advantage of
Leap Year? At any rate it appears
that some of our promising young
manhood have laid aside their free
dom for the matrimonial shackles.
The Gibbs boys are be-moaning the
fact that one of their number, a dash
ing young aviator, swooped down and
made off with the sweetie of one of
his house mates, and after a few
stunts and some high flying did the
matrimonial loop, following it with a
forced landing. The bereft suitor
predicts, however, that they will go
into a tailspin before long . . . And
outside of the fact that Ed Bunkum
is a holy terror with the visiting fe
males that is all the gossip for this
Queer, isn’t it—^how
girls have developed a t’>
cordian music?
Do you suppose that 7^
Johnson’s taste for chic
veloped during childhood
Helen Ingram ii in
childhood—she has gr
lieve in Santa again,
one could hardly blame! a
he came all tha way ag^
South Carolina to—wihh
fill her stocking 1 Ilf
Echos from 210 Spii^
those happy, hectic, mo,^”
chaperoned hours in Win Y
the occupants insane or'

Page Text

This is the computer-generated OCR text representation of this newspaper page. It may be empty, if no text could be automatically recognized. This data is also available in Plain Text and XML formats.

Return to page view