Page Two
THE HILLTOP, MARS HILL COLLEGE, MARS HILL, NORTH CAROLINA
The 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.
STAFF
Editor
Associate Editor.
Robert Burnett
Hildrith Squires
Managing Editor Mark Taylor Orr
Society Editor Alma Reed
State Editor Open
Religious Editor Evelyn Morgan
A Brief Description
Of a Short Life
Sports Editor..., Billy Wright
Alumni Editor Frances Burnett
Poetry Editor Open
Intercollegiate Editor Bill Martin
Faculty Adviser John A. McLeod
Business Manager Vance Hardin
Circulation Manager Robert Scruggs
VOL. VIII
MARS HILL, N. C., OCTOBER 12, 1933
No. 2
Tear Down The Scaffolding
Inside the walls of the collegiate institutions of America, there
has been left a scaffolding. It should have been torn down years
ago, but through the negligence of certain people and the per
sistence of others, it still remains. The scaffolding is that false
code of ethics, that “just to get by” complex, that “let’s start
something” attitude, which is a birthmark on many colleges.
How many students, finding nothing much to do at night
(mainly because they weren’t looking for it), have said to their
roommates, “Let’s start something?” Nine-tenths of these have
made and will make their statements good by anything from a
fuse blown to a washout. Were the guilty ones questioned, they
would answer that they didn’t mean any harm. They just wanted
something to do. And they reason that as long as they are in college
they can do “something” and get away with it.
If I cheat a litle on this test. I’ll be able to pass the course.
Nobody will find it out, and just this time won’t make any differ
ence. How many students have thought this, when in real life they
wouldn’t think of cheating or stealing?
In many schools the students are thrust into a machine wTich
grinds out graduates full of credits and diplomas and selcji^rn'
increases their ability to live a Christian life in
Cannot the campus be a center of livrng and learning without
a dj.ssqnteLgf.'the normal.fhannels through which life should
flow? Mars Hill and some other colleges are attempting this com
plete task.
We should strive to make our college career a commencement
of life as we will live it after leaving school.
Then from sheer decay would the scaffolding fall.
H'ere is a man who was born-in an
oibscure village, the child of a peasant
woman. For thirty years he worked
in a carpenter’s shop. For three years
he was an itinerant preacher. He
never wrote a book. He never went
to college. He never owned a home.
He never traveled two hundred miles
from the place where he was born.
He never put his foot inside a big
city. He never did any of the things
which usually accompany greatness.
He had no credentials but himself.
While still a young man the tide
of public opinion turned against him.
His friends ran away from him. One
of them denied him. He was turned
over to his enemies. He went through
the mockery of a trial. He was cruci
fied between two thieves. His exe
cutors gambled for the only piece of
property which he had, while on
earth, and that was his coat. When
he was dead, he was taken down and
buried in a borrowed grave through
the pity of a friend.
Nineteen wide centuries have come
and gone and today he is the center-
piece of the human race and the
leader of the column of progress. I
am far within the marks when I say
that all the armies that ever marched,
all the navies that were ever built,
all the parliaments that ever sat, and
all the kings that ever reigned—all
put together—^have not affected the
life of man on this earth, as power
fully as has that one solitary life.
—^From Boston Transcript. (Author
Unknown).
MEMORANDA
OF DR. ROBERT
Ergophobia
»
Did you ever see it? Have you ever felt it? Would you run
from it if you met it at night in a dark alley? This “Ergophobia?”
Once upon a time there was a man who was not one of the
laziest, but absolutely the laziest man in the world. He was so lazy
that—well, before the suspense becomes too suspensive. I’ll tell
you in plain words. He had “Ergophobia.”
We are now passing through the season of the year during which
this condition is most prevalent. Fevers, Rose and Hay, are stages
in this lethargic development.
Symptoms of “Ergophobia” are unmistakable. At first one be
comes a trifle slothful, inactive now and then. Finally, as this
habit grows (and it is a habit, and it does grow), one finds genuine
pleasure in doing nothing at all, all of the time. At this stage the
disease is practically incurable, and the only hope that remains is
to applv a barbed pitchfork to just where a barbed pitchfork should
be applied.
It seems that an epidemic of “Ergophobia” is rapidly spreading
anywhere and everywhere. Every energetic inhabitant of every
town should do all in his power to divest the community of this
scourge.
A few rules and suggestions may prove helpful in escaping the
clutches of “Ergophobia”:
(1) Don’t grace or disgrace the drugstore sidewalks with your
presence of body and absence of mind morning, noon, and night.
(2) Remember that lamp-posts are built to support electric
lights and not those bipeds who are “lit” by other than electrical
energy.
(3) Recollect that only four days out of every four weeks were
set aside for rest.
(4) If you’ll take this matter seriously, you’ll find that a little
work, or a whole lot either, will help too.
And thus foi the good of all and one, let us display our energy
in a long drive for the extermination of this most “unlaborious” of
diseases, this clot in the blood-stream of a nation (I’m still writing
about laziness), this street-corner populator—“Ergophobia.”
(Continued from pag^ 1)
But my journ€y ,(>f-Iife seems only
now to be f^ly entered upon. It ap-
pearsj^>^5 *1 view it now, a highway
-hud out in perspective. And while
starting out on this end of it, I here
write down a few general directions
for a traveler on his way to Eternity,
as I learned them by God’s provi
dence. “0 send out Thy lights and
Thy truths: let them lead me; let
them bring me to Thy Holy Hill, and
to Thy tabernacles!” . . . As my jour
ney is of unknown length, I desire to
measure it carefully, erecting a mile
stone on each birthday anniversary
by prayerfully considering what is
herein writen. May God give me grace
so to do this that at the other end of
my course I may exclaim: “I have
run with patience the race set before
me, looking (not to my works but
only) unto Jesus the author and fin
isher of our faith,” and may hear
from Him the joyful greeting, “Well
done.”
I am a creature of God’s provi
dence, endowed with reasoning pow
ers and an immortal spirit. The great
object of my creation is found in
these words: “Thou shalt love the
Lord thy God with all they heart,
with all thy soul, and with all thy
mind.” This is the first and the great
commandment. And the second is like
unto it: “Thou shalt love thy neigh
bor as thyself.” I recognize the fact
that within myself I cannot perform
these requirements of my great Crea
tor, and, hence, must die eternally,
unless saved by the sacrificial atone
ment of His Son, Jesus.
0, blessed Jehovah! enable me to
always follow close in thy footsteps,
and to contemplate with highest joy
and thankfulness my salvation made
perfect through Thy suffering.
O, God the Father! may I con
stantly think of Thee with most re
verential love as my Creator, Pre
server, continual and bountiful Bene
factor. May I ever thankfully recog
nize as coming from Thy hand all
that brings happiness to mortals! O,
God the Holy Spirit! make my body
thy temple; sanctify me with all that
I possess and enable me through the
journey of life to know and perform
the perfect will of God, so that in all
things I may love, honor, and glorify
Thee, the Father, Son, and Holy
Ghost! —J. C. Robert.
April 10, 1868.
Editor’s Note: Your comments are
cordially invited, and contributions
will be gladly accepted.
Off The Beaten Path
Had you ever heard that the Battle
of Bunker Hill was not fought on the
hill that bears its name? It was
fought on Breed’s Hill about half a
mile from the stately shaft atop
Bunker Hill.
In browsing about in south Boston,
one may stumble upon the ancient
Union Oyster House, wedged between
two modern buildings on cobble-
stoned Union Street. Here within one
of the freshly painted booths one,
while he eats the delectable sea fare
set before him, may breathe the at
mosphere that smacks of the pre-pro
barroom days even to the musty saw
dust upon the floor. Food is served
from the old bar, converted into a
serving counter, while the low wood
ceilings divulge their own age. When
the waitress takes the dessert order
for sherry-flavored cream, she be
moans the fact that she cannot pro
cure the “genuine stuff” as was
served in the “old days.” That is hos
pitality even Southerners can’t ig
nore.
It was in this same building, up
stairs, that Louis Philippe after his
exile from France tutored pupils in
French.
Although situated in a foreign
setlement, this oyster house serves
the best sea food in the city as well
as being of historical note.
QUIET TALKS
^ BY S. D. GORDON
(Continued from page 1)
Death, Quiet Talks on Simple Essen
tials, Quiet Talks on the Healing
Christ, Quiet Talks on the Crisis and
After, Quiet Talks on How to Pray.
Brief excerpts from the messages
brought by Dr. Gordon at the chapel
services follow:
Wednesday
Everybody is tempted. Life brings
temptation. If there is a mind to
think with temptation comes. Some
yield to temptation. Some fight temp
tation. Often it comes like the rush
of a cyclone wind sweeping down
young timber in its path. Many times
it comes like a sneaking snake. The
power of temptation depends on how
you treat it. The devil is helpless
without a partner. Christ was tempted
as we are. Yet, He never yielded.
Thursday
Is Jesus here? When we are
troubled, do we let Jesus have His
way as did Mary and Martha? Christ
is the greatest lover. He has a moth
erly heart. No one can love as He
does. Christ is here because you are
here, and He’ll stay if you give Him
half a chance. One touch of Jesus re
veals the fact that all are akin; one
brotherhood. Jesus knows our selfish
ness, evil thoughts and our wrongs,
yet He loves us. No one that ever saw
Him forgot His face. No one that
ever heard Him forgot His voice. The
Master is here talking to us. Shall we
give Him our all?
Quotation: “Success comes in cans,
failures in can’ts.” We’ll take about
two dozen cans, please.
Friday
Have you ever spent a day with
God? Enoch made a habit of walking
with God. The secret of life is receiv
ed by spending a day with God. Any
thing that concerns us, concerns our
Master. Anything you can’t talk over
with Him who died for us, you had
better leave out. “If we walk in the
light as He walked, we have fellow
ship.”
AGED DOCTOR
DIES AT TREAT
(Continued from page 1)
Department, Washington, D. C.; Dr.
J. C. Robert, Poplarville, Miss.; Dr.
J. J. Robert, Baton Rouge, La.; and
S. A. Robert, Jackson, Miss.
Tuesday afternoon a simple and
impressive funeral service was held
at Treat Home, where Dr. Robert has
lived since coming to Mars Hill. On
Wednesday morning the body was
taken to Centerville, Miss., for the
final service.
PEACE
By Doris Smiley
As smoke from a low fire at di
Threads its way
Up through the canopied boug
Overhead
ollef,
And merges at last in the soft^l
Night air
So my spirit will rise at the a
Last glow
And there stand alone—past lj»how
Left below
Till peace that is blown throu
The breath of God
Envelopes my soul and bids m^ anc
Be still. Th
Mou
in ro
Abbe
a sp
ittem
stest
’s hi
ggre;
d im
Something Is Wro{"^’'
By Frank Hunt
If you think that the world w
you for play.
Something is wrong.
If you shy when a thorn is pla^
your way,
Something is wrong.
If you grumble and frown at
fellow man.
If you sneer at the work of f
tisan.
If you falsely direct some gooi
avan.
Something is wrong.
If you turn away from Christ’s
that’s told.
Something is wrong.
If your mind is deaf and your
has grown cold.
Something is wrong.
If your body auu soul don’t
orainate.
If you have never tried to accoi
date.
If your friendships are easy to
mate.
Something is wrong.
ids E
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kirte
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attei
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WHERE DO THEl,ui„
GO FROM HER . =
Henry Sams, nephew of Dr.
is now a teacher in the County
for Boys. This school is under
rection of West Buncombe
School.
4> * *
A former Mars Hill student,
Ernest W. Bailes, is now principi» ^
a three-teacher school near Perf
fte
e b
ime
ton, N. C.
fmi
ga
exi
Irene Mitchell, a graduate at 3
Hill, is now Mrs. Arden P. Blaylca
Mr. Blaylock is pastor of the ^
Church, Little Rock, Ark. Recent] ted
meeting wms held in his church
77 new members were added.
* *
Mr. B. B. Littlejohn, Pacolet, S,>ug
is now at Columbus, Ga., as the p’d
cipal of Saint Elmo School. He
tended Mars Hill in 1916-17.
n t
th
Ilia
jr
ich
In
FOUNDING OF K
INSTITUTIGl",
ric
(Continued from page 1)
Built as the rightwing of Monta
Library, this annex was made poss
by contributions of friends, stud^pj.;
campus dedicating the new Ibr
annex. President Moore, who pre
ed at the services, spoke briefly in
preciation of those who had mi
the building possible. Dr. Sams t
paid tribute to Mr. Montague,
Winston-Salem, who gave the
unit of the building in honor of
wife, Estelle Nissen Montague.
Miss Gladys Johnson, the effiew
librarian of the college, told of It
plans for the library. Vance Har ?’^
of the senior class, gave a short t
10
on the “Library in the Life of
Student.” Following the addres'
little Miss Ruth Carter Tilson, gre
great grand-daughter of Edward C
pc
ter, a founder of the college, plaq
a wreath of evergreen on the wall
the building. The service closed wR.
the singing of “Faith of Our Fa
O]
it
ers,” led by the orchestra, and
dedicatory prayer by the Rev. C.
Grice, president of the board of tri)j
tees. li
and faculty members of Mars E31
College. II
A left wing, attached to the pn^^
ent structure where the music buil i
ing now stands, is the ultimate alp
of the college.
f