The University of Richmond MESSENGER
VOLUME LXXVII
EDITORIAL OFFICERS
Editor-in-Chief
BETTY B. CATHER
Richmond College Editor
DICK FITZ
Westhampton College Editor
MILLIE WRIGHT
Law School Editor
DON THOMPSON
Business Manager
AL PITTMAN
Assistant Westhampton Editor
BARB FERRE
Assistant Richmond College Editor
DOUG CLARK
Art Editor
MILLIE WATERS
Layout Editor
LEA THOMPSON
Exchange Editor
MARYGLYN COOPER
Pat Atwill, Kay Beale, Bob Beasley, Bob Chadwick, Art Drenios, Susie Gibson, Rene Groves, John Hamilton, Dick Hutchison, Lea Hunter, Liz Latimer, Virginia LeSueur, Robert McKinny, Gayle Mephaw, Mary Lee Moore, Dick Smith, Steve Webber, Sue Peters, Jo Hyche, Nola Texley.
2
EDITORIAL
& Massie, Inc.
PEABODY'SPAGE
IPEABODY have finally gleaned from the incoherent mutterings of cramming students that the day of the great exodus is drawing nigh . Bloodshot eyed seniors bogged down (apparently) from one last academic bout linger in the shades of the Gothic arch murmuring fond farewells while strains of the quaint medieval school chant "old grads never die" fade on the evening. Nightly the We sthampton lasses bathe their eyes with boric acid for the dewy eyed look which is a prerequisite for those about to take the veil-i.e. bridal veil. The revised Westhampton catalogue offers a marriage license as well as a degree. The men waver between bricklaying and military careers, now that a liberal arts degree has become but a social nicety. Thus all prepare to launch their frail little barks upon the great sea of high life-not to be confused with the brew of the same name, which nonetheless aids the launching. Ah, my children, blessings on you .
I Peabody, while others don the negligee, the uniform, or the bathing suit for a pleasanter summer, am contemplating a summer of scholarly research , and have packed my lemonade shaker, my eighteen volumes on the Decline and Fall of Higher Learning, and my sixteen pipes with a cigarette holder for Sundays. I am lending my bril- liant talents to the soc. department for the summer, and my survey is to be conducted on the degree of curvature acquired by the summer school student for a better rounded academic life. Apparently all required for summer scholarly pursuits is an outsi~edstein, a bottle of sun tan lotion and an open mmd. Of course my own observations will be deta~hed and ,impersonal. And my sabbatical evenings will be filled with readings in Horace, Freud, and H. Allen Smith.
_A~d so the year draws to a close I feel my specs mistmg over when I remember the perilous course sailed by the MESSENGER-through playhouse fire, m~d, scandal, and one silver cup. The outgoing ~ditors have emptied their final wastebasket The mcoming editors cue up to sharpen their pencils . I chuckle, realizing that I hold the editors ' reins fir_mlyin my six paws. The road to VIP A is paved with well-intentioned editors. The paltry lot about to take the six months rest cure ( recently subjected to the Rorshach, nine out of ten staffers felt that all the inkblots were silver cups. The tenth could MAY, 1951
not decide whether the inkblots were blasphemous, obscene, or just plain tacky. Prof Grigg, administering the tests, suggested that this person ' s mind was either blasphemous, obscene, or just plain tacky. Interesting parallels are obviously deducible) are perhaps a simple naive lot. But they go to their well-earned rest-may they in peace.
Not long ago I received a nice fat check for this august slick from an alumna, class of' 49, who complimented me on doing a "grand job with the publication." At the risk of appearing with anything less than my impeccable modesty, I shall quote that paragraph which balmed the slights and stings of the less approving: "For the few students who complain of their magazine, I know there are many who want to congratulate you and your staff. The issues are small. However the sifting you give the copy submitted brings forth the best reading obtainable." My deepest gratitude goes to this former student. This and the rather nice hallmark on the bottom of our silver cup prove that the battle of the magazine is not completely in vain. A poet is not necessarily without honor.
And so farewell. There are increased lines in my forehead, dark gullies under my eyes, deep f rustration in my heart, but as long as I see the whites of their eyes, I'll keep on firing. Yours for a better summer
Utopia of Richmond, 1991
" ... Rogers. Small wood. Smith. Smith not here? Thomas? West. Form your line in alphabetical order to receive your European History pill." The professor, a tall gray-haired Ph.D., started doling out the vermilion capsules.
"I swear, he must stay up nights figuring out how to make this class dull," whispered Henry \XIest as he shifted from one calloused foot to the other.
"Yeah," yawned Bill, who stood in front of him, "at least we get jokes with our Biology Lab shots."
By now Bill had reached the head of the line where he received History 103, pill 68. Taking a gulp of water from the water fountain ( which long ago had replaced the desk on the Utopia of Richmond rostrum) he swallowed the Treaty of Utrecht.
"Let's stop by the library," said Henry, after he too had taken his history lesson. The library is now housed in a former professor's cubicle office, for it no longer requires the space that it did back in the dark age of Academic learning. Henry thumbed through the pill catalogue in search of a two-hundred grain novel ( all fiction comes in pill, biography in shots, poetry in powdered form, etc.).
"That cussed two week limit," Henry exclaimed as the library door closed, 'Tm always having to pay fines to have these pills reactivated because I forget to take them in the allotted time."
"I almost forgot!" exclaimed Bill, "This is Thursday and we've got to take two teaspoonfuls of Convocation."
"How electric!" agreed Henry. Electric is a term used contemporarily to signify anything oldfashioned or dull. "It seems that after all these years the Committee on Concentrated Convocations could have made some progress."
"It's bad enough to have to assimilate the Treaty of Utrecht," Bill mourned, "but to absorb a concentrated hour of nothing caps the climax!"
By now the two were passing the S.A.B., a small brick building devoted to the U. S. Microfilm Office and the Supersonic Slop Shop. This building has lapsed into such disrepair that only recently there had been an unsuccessful attempt to burn it.
"Adjust your radar to that babe at the Microfilm window," said Henry, who had suddenly forgotten the unpleasantness of Convocation.
"Strictly atomic! !" affirmed Bill. "Say! She looks like the type who would ignore the WC handbook
4
rule that 'A Westhampton girl always takes her restraint pills'!"
"That's why I like Richmond Pro-utopian Institute girls," said Henry, as he cast one last glance at the "a tomi c" babe, "No restraint."
"I made out my Concentrated Education schedule for next semester and damn if I don't have a 10:30 pill every day and one shot on Saturday."
"What luck!" sympathized Henry. "I invariably sleep through my 10: 30 calculus shot. There should be a law against education before lunch."
"After lunch, too, for that matter," Bill said. "That ten minute period from 1: 30 to 1 :40 is the longest of the day."
As Henry and Bill entered Modlin Hall, a dormitory named for the last president of the University of Richmond, then an academic institution, they noticed a poster advertising the annual football game with Willyou be Merry. W & Mis a small semi-utopian college whose education shots and pills are reported to be extremely infrequent and impotent.
"Are you going to the game?" asked Bill.
"I guess so," answered Henry, "but we haven't beaten them in almost fifty years. Even with our system of football shots instead of the old afternoon practice, Richmond can't seem to produce a winner." In 1991 the football coach is a forgotten man and in his stead stands the white-robed chemist who compounds the football shots.
"I have a Calculus test tomorrow. Guess I better take one of those green review pills," said Henry Bill picked up a bottle from the pill and shot case and tossed it over to Henry. Review pills are quite potent intellectual doses intended to bring a particular subject to the mental foreground for twenty-four hours. They exclude all other subjects for that period, but the pills insure a B on all quizzes.
"These pills are strictly atomic!" said Henry as he flipped one into his mouth and washed it dow n with a swig from the drinking fountain.
"Good God! This isn't the Calculus bottle. I took an Ethnic Minority pill!" Filled with inexpressible sorrow Henry sank onto the bed, for h e realized that he would be the first student in the history of Utopia of Richmond who had failed a quiz.
-VIRGINIA LESUEUR UNIVERSITYMESSENGE
Woman of the Year
MARYGLYN COOPER, brunette, brown eyed and Florida-tanned, has been chosen from Westhampton ' s Senior Class because of her academic record, her leadership, and her parti cipation in numerous college activities. Secretary of the honorary fraternity of Mortar Board, she w as elected to Who 's Who in American Universities and Colleges. Those in South Court are well versed in the art of costume creation; for weeks p receding May D ay, Maryglyn as chairman, and he r committee filled the smoker with oysters, snails and other equally fantastic costumes. Ma ryglyn w as co-chairman of the vocational guidance board and in conjunction with Milly Waters presented a most enlightening and helpful roster of speakers. Maryglyn was secretary of the Junior Class but the title secretary is hardly inclusive since her responsibilities extended into many activities the class undertook. And finally, as co-chairman of the May D ay dance of '49, she planned and executed one of th e most outstanding dances Westhampton has presented. She still finds time to major in Biology and is a member of Beta Bet a Beta, honorary biology fr aternity. We mention with pride that for three years she has been Exchange Editor of the MESSENGER. And finally because of her sparkling vitality, her ever-ready smile, her ta l ents for just p lain dirty job s, we give you "G l en"--our choice for The Woman of t h e Year.
Man of the Year
WHEN T H E MESSENGEReditors went into conference to choose this year's Man of th e Year, the requirements for the position were rightfully set on a high standard. He must be a combination of leader and good student; he must be held in high esteem by his classmates; but above all, he must be a credit to the University. There were many suggestions from both the senior and junior classes, but one man stood head and shoulders above the rest. Wes Brown was the man of the year.
An agreeable personality combined with an extra amount of energy, drive and mature judgment makes Wes one of the best leaders the University has had in some time. His list of extracurricular activities is an enviable one. This year he served as president of the senior class in the School of Business Administration, the Interfraternity Council and his own social fraternity, Theta Chi. He was elected to both Who's Who in American Universities and Colleges and Omicron Delta Kappa, honorary leadership organization. Wes was also president of his sophomore class.
In the field of athletics Wes was a standout. He was star forward and captain of Richmond's basketball team and won a berth on the Associated Press All-State mythical five. He has always been an enthusiastic participant in the intramural program.
So here he is, Wes Brown, the UNIVERSITYMESSENGER'SMan of the Year.
RESTRICTED
THE WARDEN of the women's division of the State Penitentiary cleared her sandpaper throat and ran five bony fingers through an almost masculine haircut.
" And so, women ," she boomed, "I tell you this afternoon that though the condition of the women ' s wards is not as it should be , we the authorities are well aware of the present needs. We only ask you to bear with us until such time as the State feels it is financially able to make the improvements you women are so justified in demanding. Of course
"
The warden ' s voice sawed away incessantly into the afternoon like the sound of a prisoner helping himself to the open air by means of a hacksaw. Mrs. J.Elmer Triffie, though, sitting to the rear of the company of women, remained unfazed and unimpressed by the voice, the warden, or the hour of the day. Mrs. Triffle, for the many-eth time since her imprisonment-her latest imprisonment -was examining the large bronze-colored mole which had at some time in its owner ' s unmentionable and forgotten past, situated itself precisely upon the back of her chubby left hand and had since that time been steadily vying for height with the knuckle just above it. (Mrs. Triffle had long ago attained her destined height but continued to spread in other directions.) The mole was evidently a fertile one, for it succeeded weekly in sprouting a single silvery stiff straw of a hair which Mrs. Triffle plucked with the same Saturday night regularity she employed in mixing and downing her two weekly shots of Devil's High Life.
However, it was not the hair, the Devil's High Life, nor her current discomfiture which concerned Mrs. Elmer Triffle at that moment; it was the mole itself . Moreover, she never made a practice of being concerned with more than one thing at a time; Mrs. Triffle ' s avoirdupois was not the result of stored up int elligence. When she had a thought, as she sometimes did, she found it best to devote her entire mental capacity to that single thought in order that she might develop it to its fullest. Her present thought related to the mole; it took the form of a quotation ( from Paul Showers' book Fortune Telling for Fun and Popularity) and it went like this: "If the mole is on the left hand or wrist, the person has a decided artistic disposition."
Mrs. Triffle contemplated the beautiful mole on 6
her left hand, raised one fuzzy eyebrow ( the left one , she couldn't lift her right) and widened two faded blue eyes in her own interpretation of a typically artistic expression. Thus posed, she began to cast about among the pairs of hands which were visible to her in order to determine just how many of her company were artistic as she. Insofar as she could tell, Mrs. Triffle herself possessed the only left-handed mole in the whole room-the only legal title to an artistic disposition. What a moraleboosting discovery!
Mrs . Triffle's expansive bosom swelled with emotion; she released a bored little sigh of artistic superiority , and achieving with her gesture, she thought , the appropriate dramatic quality, she considered her first thought complete and allowed herself a second. This one expressed itself slowly and distinctly as if quoting Shakespeare: "The sensitivity of the artistic disposition ." ( Of course Mrs T.'s thoughts were always meaningful, no matter if they were sometimes naked of verbs ) "The sensitivity of the artist. " She reflected on the word " sensitivity ," applied it to herself momentarily, and decided she was sensitive enough to be artistic. " Why just yesterday when Perkins asked me how old I was, I was mad as hell. That's sensitive-Perkins said so herself. And besides," she argued mentally as though some unseen elf had doubted her sensitivity , " just take this here cramped up situation. Now as many times as I been through it I orta be used to it , but I ain't. It still gets me kinda nervous-like . I'm sensitive!" and with that Mrs. T. spread wide five fleshy fingers and slapped her lap for emphasis.
The slap resounded in a flesh-meets-flesh sort of way. It reminded Mrs . Triffle suddenly of the time she had been sitting innocently at the supper table finishing off her half of the chocolate cream pie with meringue that she'd baked for her husband , when without warning Mr. T. had reached unde r the table and slapped her smartly across the thigh . It had sounded like a cruel slap, but Mrs . Triffle had outwitted her small husband as usual; he r thighs , like the rest of her, were well padded. Anyway , she felt certain that Mr. T. had stopped in at Tony's for something stronger than a bicarbonat e that night; his breath was noncommittal but h e had been eloquent , to say the least. That was th e (C ontinu ed on page 13)
UNIVERSITYMESSENGER
PARTNERS ON THE DRAGON
IT WAS going to be a sultry day. The early morning sun already had faded the blue from the sky and a dazzling glare reflected off the milky water around the rowboat. Dragon Run was a wild, twisting stream and, except for the open area near the highway bridge where the boat was tied up, a tall arch of overhanging hickories and birches sifted the sunlight. Squatty bushes and hickory sprouts dipped out into the water, making the stream even narrower at high tide.
As I piled my fishing gear in the stern of the boat, a wagon heaped with speckled green watermelons creaked onto the bridge overhead. "'Lo, there!" called the sun bronzed boy at the reins. He halted his smoke colored mule and jumped to the bridge.
" Hello," I said.
The junior granger rested his arms on the concrete bulwark of the bridge and watched me rig up the casting and fly rods. He forgot that his parked wagon blocked one lane of the highway and ignored the blasting horns of approaching automobiles. A shock of hair as blond as overripe wheat flopped down on his forehead.
" I can tell you ahead of time you ain't goin' to catch nothin' ," he said authoritatively. "Why don't you pick up and go on over to Anna ru? That's where all the good fishin' is."
' Tm vacationing at Annaru," I said, "but a week of dropping a rusty sinker in salt water is too much for me." I began threading the line through the guides on my fly rod. "I brought along my fresh water stuff from home and I want to unlimber it a little." I flipped the nylon leader in the water and swished it back and forth to remove any kinks. The boy gazed on the proceedings intently.
" Look, mister, I live around here and I know you' re wastin' your time. It's real strange with rivers like the Dragon. Some years they have fish and others they just don't. I don't think the fish were gettin' enough food so they left Dragon Run. You can have twice as much
(Continued on page 19)
JACK HAMILTON
McGUFFEY'SREADER
Revised and revisited
A stands for Alumni-Student Center, a RC Gothic edifice of world wonder in that the time required for its construction has surpassed even that of the Pyramids of Egypt
Baptists are the people of Southern , Northern , Seventh-Day, Free Will , Hard Shell , Two-Seed-inthe Spirit Predestinarian , and Primitive divisions.
C is for Confederates-those active in an underground movement fanatically dedicated to the violent overthrow of everything north of the Potomac. Because they raise little red flags with revolution ary glee at sports events , Bolshevistic connections are suspected.
Draft-the word that aut omatically turns the stomach of every Richmond male and sends him scurrying to the hill country
Evolution is the theme of the Darwinian theory th~t definitely proves Business Ad . majors , as everyone suspected , are really chimpanzees walking around in coats and ties.
Football-an archaic sport indulged in by members of the Pen nsylvania -Illinois clientele of the University . This barbarous game, unfortunately still permitted, is definitely dying. Today ' s trend in intercollegiate sports is towards charades.
Greek Week. This is the time of the annual alliance of all non-Phi Garns against Phi Garns.
H is for hills-which this college has more of than money .
Intellectuals of the University have organized and now meet together weekly in Puryear Hall's first floor phone booth.
Jeter Hall is the epitome of lush collegiate living. Each of the spacious suites is equipped with private bath, private verandah, private TV set, and private drinking glass. For heat, bang on the radiator 8
K is for the Ku Klux Klaners of fashionable Richmond society. Though non-smokers of cork-tippe d cigarettes, they are still the most discriminatin g people we know .
L stands for the lodges-or at least , the promis e of lodges which is the opiate of the (Greek ) masses.
Midnight is the magic hour of the weekend evening when girls at the bridge turn into track stars . Norrh Court proudly bears the motto E Plu ribus Unum-which in translation means , If yo u got t h e mo n ey, h on ey, th en I go t th e t im e I
0 is for osculation , which is an art not indul ge d in by Westhamptonites. WC ladies never kiss.
P1ayhouse--by far the most prominent and h istoric of campus structures . Like old soldiers , it will never die. Unfortunately , neither will it fa de away .
Qstands for Queen It has been said before th at " nine out of ten girls are pretty-and that the ten th one comes to Westhampton." Hence, to find a REAL Queen , the RC male must depart from th ese hills and journey to the pavements of RPI.
Richmond , the metropolis , is a state of mind somewhere beyond Three Ch opt' s bronze marker. Statistically , it claims over a quarter of a million assorted real and pseudo~human beings , all of wh om have at least one kissin ' kin attending or gradu at ed from the U. of R.
Schlemush, which could reasonably pertain t o most anything, is particularly ideal for describing refectory food.
Tisfor Tavern-a strictly plush monastery closely associated with these hallowed pine-dad hills and Gothic arches. Here within its walls, the probl ems of the cosmos are solved by Spider socialites and Socialists who haunt its mystic cloisters. (C ontinued on pag e 17) UNIVERSITYMESSENGER
The Skeptic
I ask you
You ask me
Is there a graduation?
I a sk you
ls there graduation, degradation, sublimation, cond ensation, pet milk, oops!
II
You ask me
Is there a procession?
I as k you
Is there depression , regression , succession, jam session , jam, Sam, Uncle Sam-wants you-You know you couldn 't get out of it!
111
You ask me
Is there a diploma?
I ask you
Is there a kimono, a negligee, Oh Risque, Isn't th is Spectatorish?
IV
You a sk me
Is there a daisy chain?
I a sk you
Is there chain, a chain gang, a gang, gangrene , Right again-exams just sit in!
You a sk me
Ist here a speaker?
I a sk you
Is there a speech, V
Hell yes, air cushion and liniment are very much in o rder.
VI
You a sk me
Isthe re a thesis?
I a sk you
Is there paresis, antithesis, synthesis,
My sin, your sin, his sin-It's O.K., its a perfume !
Vil
You a sk me
Is there a comprehensive?
M AY , 1951
Are you apprehensive, pensive, pent-up-broken out, feet tired, back ache, pain, pain in the neck, College is indeed an obstacle ' course.
VIII
You ask me
Is there a quality credit?
I ask you
Is there quality, quantity-not much! credit, debit , debt-you bet, bets , bookie, racket , well afte r all-what are quality credits?
IX
You ask me
Is there a future?
I ask you
Is there marriage, matrimony, a state of confusion, a state of the union, union suits-yeah-uniforms-is there an army , a navy, a bomb , an atom bomb-if so grab third vertebra from the bottom!
You ask me
Will I pass?
I tell you
Dunt esk!
-Millie W right.
LOWER LEVELS
Aclv~nc.cJ
Pt-H'\ C. I pl s 0~ I" .su cu•,c.e
HIGHER EDUCATION
ED ROBERSON
BEING A TREATISE ON THE ANCIENT LYRIC ABBADABBADABBA
THE GREAT controversy on Twentieth Century evolution may perhaps be solved by the unearthing of a medieval sonnet Abbada bbadabba. For two centuries scientists have tried to determine whether or not evolutionary changes were still going on in the Twentieth Century prior to the first Atomic Age-and the internal evidence in this lyric furnishes conclusive proof that the atomic primitive retained at least traces of monkey-like behavior. Professor Rathervague has prepared a brief analysis of this rare sonnet basing his thesis on the above-mentioned theo~y. His learned colleague, Professor Notsovague , has challenged his statement, refusing to see in the lyric little else than a primitive love sonnet. He sugg ests that this song , not unlike Milton's L ' All egro and Service' s Faces On Th e B ar Ro om Fl o or, was sung during the spring mating season probably to the accompaniment of a jukebox, believed to be a small musical instrument similar to the zither. Now for the first time , the sonnet is herein published and annotated with the connotations of both learned professors:
Abbadabbadabba ( 1) (etc) sez the monkey (2) to the chimp (3)
Abbadabbadabba (etc) sez the chimpie ( 4 ) to the monk ( 5) .
All day long they chattered away ( 6).
All night long they were happy and gay , (7) Singing and swinging ( 8) in a honky tonky way (9).
Abbadabbadabba (10) means " monk I love (11) but you. "
Abbadabbadabba in monkey talk (12) means "chimp I love you , too. "
So the big baboon one night in June (13) He married ( 14) them and very soon They went upon their abbadabba ( 15) honeymoon (16).
(1) Professor Notsovague interprets this to be the mating call of the monkey-like atomic primitive. In the fifth and sixth lines of the sonnet the translation is given as simply "I love you " which probably means merely that one had at least some affection or feeling for another, and the power achieved in the alliterative polysyllabic word connotes primitive passion believed to be practiced 12
during the century. How primitive such passio n was we cannot at present determine. Professo r Rathervague disagrees violently This is only th e rhyme scheme of the sonnet ( obviously the latte r stanzas were lost-thank God). Apparently th e letter C had degenerated from the alphabet at th is time. He points out that " Abbadabbadabba" also appears in several contemporary Sanskrit man uscripts of the time , but has however been translate d as get out of here with that M ESSENGER-whi ch has little ( if 1anything) to do with l ove.
( 2) Professor Notsovague claims that this is a simple proof that the atomic primitives were monkeys rather than simple homo sapiens. P rofessor Rathervague interprets this loosely as a simple term of something not unlike endearme nt. Other terms of endearment were d arli ng, l ove boat, and yo u l ous e yo u.
( 3 ) Chimp , according to Professor Notsova g u e, is probably a type of Republican ( small fu rry animals of the period similar to rats . This is t he SOUTH) not unrelated to monkeys . Profes sor Rathervaguehints obscurely that perhaps the chimp was the sexual opposite of monkey . Hence he fe els warranted in assuming that if monkey is m al e, chimp js female.
( 4) This is obviously a diminutive form of chimp. Both Professors agree on this highly debatable point. Hence the diminutive form of a noun, meaning probably a simple past time , is sextette.
( 5) Professor Rathervague states that a m onk is a member of a religious order. Among religi ous orders of the day were Baptists. Since monks pr acticed celibacy, believed to be a primitive type of football, it seems highly improbable that this is a love poem. Professor Rathervague points out t hat since Baptists composed eighty percent of the Southland , believed to be the opposite of the N orth where the predominating religious order was damnyankee , they did not practice celibacy. Certainly better football teams come from the No rth.
( 6) Professor Notsovague feels that chatt ered away quite probably means a simple monkey d ance similar to a sailor's hornpipe. Since all the male primitives of the period were members of eit her the Army or the Navy (believed to be rudimen t ary UNIVERSITYMESSENGER
fr aternities the most primitive of which was the coconut milk-drinking fijis, there being no other occupation, this seems valid. Professor Rathervague d ebates the point and feels that chatter means a p rimitive type of oogling, also practiced by rudimentary fraternities.
(7) Professor Rathervague points out happy an d gay being states of emotion, could not have been practiced all night if chattering all day was eng aged in, unless sleep had either degenerated or else was not customary. Professor Notsovague f eels that passion expressed in the opening polysyllable may possibly have made most things possible. Under the influence of Freud, a labor leader of the day, dreams perhaps could be as gay as the real thing
(
8) Professor Notsovague points out that singing and swinging strengthens his thesis that the atomic aborigines were ape-like, swinging from tr ee to tree . Professor Rathervague argues that swinging refers to hip movement. The Charleston was a type of calisthenics employed by the militia of t he day . The jitterbug , a dance rather than an insect-was a minuet of the Eighteenth Century which did not employ hip movement.
(9 ) Honkey tonky , according to Professor Rath ervague , was a type of religious shrine Other shrin es of the period were the Blair House, the Kremlin , and the slop shop-inner sanctuary of the temple of the U of R. ( initials are believed to have mystic meaning). Professor Notsovague claims tha t a honkey tonky was a primitive type of bean ery in which eighty proof mild could be purchased
( 10) In the fifth and sixth lines the dynamic polysyllabic word is repeated. Passion, apparently , is waxing.
( 11) Love is in all probability a verb , active , pa ssive, and ever present.
(12) Monkey talk , according to Professor Rathe rvague, was the language of the day. From Sena t e records ( the Senate was a union of democrats believed to be just fading away, not really ?Ying ) , college lectures ( which students wisely ignored) and TV ( one of the seven deadly evils) , we may assume that language had degenerated , perhaps was even " uncouth junk. "
( 13) Professor Notsovague feels that June is a month of emancipation, logically following May. Professor Rathervague feels that it is a primitive state of rest in which mud slingers sling more mud.
(14 ) Professor Rathervague suggests that marriage is a state not unlike a racket, a rat race, a hell
MAY , 1951
not entirely unlike editing a literary magazine .
( 15) Professor Notsovague claims that "Abbadabba" is an adjective denoting passion referring to honeymoon . Rathervague takes exception , wondering if the adjective is altogether apropos.
(16) Professor Rathervague states that a honeymoon is a type of primitive fungus grown in dark alleys ( ooops ! I slipped) . Professor N otsovague states that it refers to lunary travel. Lovers departed this earth , wandering thru interstellar space in rocket ships, to get away from it all. (Editor ' s note: we wish the devil we could )
Altogether the two professors are unable to consolidate their findings at present; both suggest that the only alternative is to sell the whole thing back - e.g life--to the monkeys. We agree .
Restricted
(Co nti n ued fr om p age 6) ni g ht he had told her if she'd behave herself-if she ' d just 1act like Dr. Critten asked her to-yes, that was it-if she'd just pay attention to good old D oc Critten ' s advice she wouldn ' t have to wearwell , she w ouldn't be where she was right now.
Sit. W ait. Listen to the warden. Saw, saw, saw. Tick , tick , tick.
Tick ? Mrs Triffie had forgotten the clock . She examined it now and, by employing a cert ain pro cess of mathematics which she had le a rned l on g before the bron ze-colored mole had appeared on her left hand to announce to the world Mrs T. ' s artistic status , she calculated that in some fifteen minutes the warden would have finished sawinguh , speaking-and she , Mrs J Elmer Triffie would again be a free woman. Fifteen minutes of suppression Tick , tick , tick. Fifteen minutes marching by with the slow precision of fifteen soldiers guarding a prison wall.
" And now on behalf of the authorities at the State Penitentiary, I wish to thank you , the members of the Davenport Woman ' s Club , for your interest in the conditions of the women ' s wards at the institution I should like also to thank Mrs . J E. Triffie for her generous hospitality this afternoon .. "
* * *
Mrs. Triffie waited until the warden of the women ' s division of the State Penitentiary and the last member of the Davenport Woman ' s Club h ad filed through the little white picket gate at the end of her sidewalk before she fled into the bedroom and freed herself from the excruciating restrictions of her new corset.
-JUNE M. PAIR.
lann\n Your -reer
You Don't Get This Kind of Information at the Usual Placement Office.
Southern Belle
You do not have to be from the South to be a Southern Belle. Of course, it helps, but with a little concentrated effort a gal from South J oisey can be just as successful a belle as one from South Cahlina. Probably better. The three chief requirements for this type of female are that she possess a bird's soft voice, a bird's appetite , and a bird ' s brain.
The southern accent is the belle's chief asset. This can best be achieved by repeating over and over with a mouth full of black-eyed peas and corn pone the sentence, " Oh, if General Lee had only had the atomic bomb at Gettysburg. " If this does not work, try, "Damn Honest Abe, the jabe who laid the Federal foot in the mouth of the solid South."
After a hard day's work in the cotton field behind her plantation on Tobacco Road the typical southern belle relaxes . She turns on her television set and watches her favorite program, Ku Klux Klan and Ollie (Every shanty has a television set. The southern liberals point to this with pride when they 16
reverently mention the New South.) She then has the colored houseboy with a degree from Harvard come in and do the shuffle. The southern girl is unique in card playing. She prefers a fifth for bridge. The true southern belle would rather sit at home and sip mint juleps, but with the conditions the way they are she will settle for beer at the tavern.
Many belles go to New York, see how the other half lives, capture a millionaire with their innocent sweet talk ("You all couldn ' t mean po little me") , secure mink coats, and spend lots of money. But do you think she is going to stay there .and give up her simple pleasures in Dixieland? You dern tootin.
For further information read: Gon e With Th e Wind and How t o Win Friends and Y ankee Husbands with Mon ey. A heart to heart talk with the president of your local U.D.C. chapter will be most beneficial.
Financier
People who have a fondness for making mone y the easy way will be interested in this field. Th e only work the Financier has to do is to sit in hi s Tru-Ade bottle-top-lined office and sign paper s about borrowing money and loaning money. A great deal of his work is carried on with the government, so it is a prime prerequisite that you own a copy of Margaret Truman's latest record album
The Financier must have a rubber neck for h e nods to everyone. (Never speaks.) He know s everyone, even Jabbo Millihan the office boy an d they all say "good morning " as he walks throug h the office looking like Adolph Menjou. They kno w that enough "good mornings " may mean a thre e dollar raise some year, and they haven't studie d auditing and cost accounting in college for nothin g , beheve you me.
The Financier stops talking about money at 4 P.M., no matter what, and takes a red-white-an dblue pill for his ulcers. He then leaves the office in his newest Lincoln, races to the nearest bar, an d slops up a few so he will be able to stand an evening at home with his wife's ,relatives. He, indee d, is the epitome of simple living.
If you are still interested in being a financier you might read How to Break the Bank at Monte Carlo and Mama ' s Bank Account. For further inform ation consult Frank Costello , the best damn littl e financier in the country.
-DICK FITZ. UNIVERSITY MESSENGER
INVESTIGATION IN
A SMALL dimly lighted room in the Administration building a group of shrewd and loyal men disclosed some of the most startling facts tha t have ever been shown in the ugly and brazen t ruth to the student public. Such facts were the findings and the conclusions brought out in the Ka uf ever Committee investigation of the motives and results of University professors in regard to examinations.
Professor of Political Science
T his prof admitted giving a final examination wh ich was printed on pink paper. When he was asked if that paper ( the color, that is) might reflect any tinge of communism in his beliefs , he became very angry.
After consulting a psychologist , the committee decided that his anger was merely a defense mech- anism and that the professor was guilty of letting his personal convictions be subtly suggested and ther eby influence the thinking of his students, to say nothing of the strain on their eyes resulting from staring at the blaring color for a long period.
After long deliberation , the committee decided tha t tests should be given on paper which would be agreeable to the entire student body (invisible, perh aps) and that all precautions should be taken to discourage subversive influence on the campus.
Professor of Psychology
T his teacher agreed wholeheartedly with the chairman that all students should study their lessons thoroughly before each test. He emphasized comp lete preparation, yet it was recalled to him tha t h e refused to let new students prepare for the intelligence tests which they were required to take. Th is lack of preparation resulted in the emotional upset of the students concerned.
T he committee surmised that since the professors cannot be fair enough to allow preparation of such intelligence tests, they should not be given.
An other psychology teacher said that an in- dividual should not receive a shock of any kind if it were entirely possible to prevent it. Using the testimony of a student ( who stated that in several of his classes he was given pop quizzes which re- sulted in complete shocks and terrific confusion to him) ~s a basis for their conclusion , the committee ruled that pop quizzes should not be given unless at least three weeks notice was allowed.
MAY, 1951
The Kaufever Committee, after a series of startling discoveries concerning the slovenliness and corruption in the different departments of the Uni- versity, have only one possible recommendation to make to the administration . This committee recommends that the common medieval practice of giving examinations be abolished and never revived as a system of education.
-DOUG CLARK.
McGuffey
( Conti n ued from p age 8)
UNIVERSITY MESSENGER-a much-maligned, muti- lated , and long-suffering publication of seventy- odd years which somehow has managed to survive three wars, rumors of wars, depressions , periods of literary productivity and sterility, liquor ads and lack of ads, accusations, investigations, decapita- tions, humiliations, and two VIP A silver cups. This miraculous survival can be accredited only to the little-known fact that behind the Literary Curtain, the magazine's editorship is controlled and domi- nated by an iron-fisted and sharp-tongued little Arachnid by the name of Peabody.
Village-swank district existing to cater to the catholic tastes of Richmond pundits. Here, south of Saint Bridgets , north of Saint Catherines, west of Saint Giles, and east of Saint Stephens are lo- cated beaneries Duncan Hines should never hear about, a Fiv e and Ten to cause blushing on the part of Lord and Taylor's, and a cinema for lovers of the theatah and popcorn .
W stands for winter-the season where every- where else it snows, but in Richmond it rains, and rains, and rains.
X is for Xanadu. It was either this or " Xerxes. " There ain ' t much choice.
Yankees are no-good carpet-baggers who compose far too large a group among Richmond students. Because they steal our women, have never heard of R. E. Lee and company of lieutenants, are Repub- licans, and can't talk real-honest-to-goodness Eng- lish, they should be purged .
Zulu. According to the official files in the office of the Dean, there are no Zulus enrolled in the University of Riohmond.
-AL PITTMAN.
A Look Backward . and Ahead
XTHE last day of the semester and the school year draws near and with it the end of my student days, I cannot help but take a moment for reflection in an attempt to evaluate this particular era of my life.
Have the seemingly endless days of study and work been worthwhile? Have I accomplished anything? Would I have been better off to have 'omitted all this from my plans? What now?
A university educat.ion is hard work. There can be no doubt of that. At the end of the road is the coveted degree which too many students believe is the key to immediate success, financial as well as social. It is true that in the present-day business world one cannot go far without a college degree; just how far he goes with it is strictly up to the individual. The same applies on the graduate or professional level. There is no magic in the possession of such standing.
There is no starting at the top by virtue of college or university training. That training, however, is by no means useless. It supplies the individual with a frame of mind and manner of directing his thought which are essential to his progress. From there it is up to him. Can the providing of these essentials be other than worthwhile?
Of course, the major accomplishment of any student is the completion of his studies. But that is not the only thing to be considered, and indeed, it should not be. Each one of us has made many fine friends during the course of our progress through the University. Unfortunately, after graduation, contact will be lost with many of them and still others will be met only occasionally, but each one has had his role in the development of our individual personalities. It may be minute and intangible, but it is there. We have had a like effect on the other fellow. Perhaps we broadened his viewpoint or narrowed it where it was too broad. Perhaps we have kept him from difficulty or harm or helped him by having him help us. No matter how large or how small, a contribution to the development of a fell ow being is an accomplishment to be proud of.
Extracurricular activities provide a wide field for many and varied accomplishments. A prospective employer probably will not be interested in whether or not you were a football star or an outstanding member of a literary society. He will, however, be interested in your ability to accept 18
responsibility and to get along with those who may be working with you in either superior or inferior positions. Having taken part in the activities of the smaller school groups has helped develop thi s ability and a sense of teamwork so vital to success. Experience teaches us that
Having been connected with publications in college and in law school and with student government in law school, I feel that the experience received in working in these activities will return manyfold benefits. There has been an improvement in demeanor which only working with other s toward a common goal could produce and a realization of the superiority of teamwork over individua l effort in many cases. These are true accomplishments and though they will not guarantee success, they will make the road that much easier to trave l.
Not everyone participates in extracurricular activities. That is unfortunate but by no means a tragedy. Those who take no part in these thing s have undoubtedly achieved something, perhap s within themselves, which could not be gained elsewhere.
A degree is an accomplishment in itself; but each one of us has other accomplishments to look back upon and be proud of.
The experience gained both in and outside th e classroom has been invaluable. It is priceless. W e have developed as members of a large group of students and also as individuals. The equivalent of this could not be gained half so well nor so rapidl y outside a university.
Now that it is almost over, the immediate que stion is, "Where do we go from here?" The answer s to that are as many and varied as there are indivi dual graduates. Which direction you go and how fa r is up to you. You have been given the necessary equipment. Use it.
-ROBERT J.SKAHAN. UNIVERSITYMESSENGE
Partners on the Dragon
(Continued from pag e 7)
l uck at Annaru. "
" Thanks for your warning, but I'll give it a try as long as I'm already here." I untied the rope ho lding the boat to the bank and pushed off. "Say, is it better to go up or downstream?"
I thought I saw a quick look of relief cross his face, but I must have imagined it. "It don't make too much difference, but the tide's headed out. T here ain't near so many snakes that way, either. Boy, the branches drip snakes upstream."
My young guide slowly mounted to his seat on th e wagon and disappeared from my view when I rounded the first bend in the river. The brownish water bubbled swiftly through narrow passes in the D ragon and swirled into eddies where the stream opened to its normal width. I caught the low hanging branches on my backcast with the fly rod and ha d to switch to the casting rod. The flitting birds disappeared and their chirps and peeps died out as the sun beat down with greater force, making the air sticky under the roof of trees. The plop, plop of my bait hitting the water and the gentle rippling of the line cutting the surface produced a placid monotony.
The tide changed about noon, and I turned the boat back upstream. I delivered my best casting efforts, but still couldn't get a strike. Unconsciously I allowed the boat to drift past the landing and on under the bridge. On the upstream side of the bridge the bank jutted into the river forming an ideal pool. I had started to cast when a shrill whistle startled me. I looked up on the bridge and there sat the farmer boy with his wagon now empty of melons.
" You don't want to fish up there ," he called. "W on't catch nothin'."
Tho se words sounded ominously familiar, but I let go with the cast anyway. Immediately the water gushed up in white foam and a striking fish yanked me off balance.
"I t's a granddaddy bass!" I shouted.
A shriek came from the bridge. I glanced around as the boy clambered down from his wagon and began waving his fists violently.
"T hrow the plug, Sealey Back! Spit it! Give him a fit, Sealey Back!" he yelled.
T he bass cut sharply to the left and I tugged him back aga in to the right. I could see his thick, dark back as he streaked by me. The bass swerved and MAY, 1951
plunged, but I carefully maneuvered him back and forth and gradually he tired.
"Don't give up! Fight him!" came the frantic screams from the bridge
I nervously poised the landing net and scooped it under the bass. But I had misjudged him. The fish leaped suddenly from the water, banged the rim of the net, and shook loose the plug! The boy danced with glee while I sat numbly watching the beautiful bass glide into the depths of the Dragon. The casting rod felt strangely light in my hand and I dejectedly reeled in the line:
The young rustic was beaming "I knew you couldn't catch ol' Sealey Back! Oh boy, I just knew you couldn ' t!" he taunted.
A river bass is a pugnacious fish and might strike again. Determined to get even with the little devil on the bridge, I selected another plug and clipped it on the line. The boy became wide-eyed with anxiety.
"Hey, wait-wait a minute, mister," he called hesitatingly. "Pull your boat over here. I have a proposition to make."
He looked in earnest so I paddled to a spot under his side of the bridge.
"Well, you know about the Dragon now, mister," he said sorrowfully, without the least sign of embarrassment. "Most of the folks around here fish at Annaru and I have it almost to myself. I'll make a real bargain with you." He drew a deep breath, then blurted out, 'Tve been trying to catch that bass there for two years! Shucks, I doubt if you can get him anyway, so if you'll leave him to me, I'll tell you about some other mighty good holes farther on upstream." He looked down at me then and fl.ashed a wide grin. "What -what do you say, mister?"
The little scamp, I thought. He misdirected me downstream, then cheered as hard as he could for the fish I finally hooked, and now wanted me to do him a favor.
" Mister, I know a plenty good hole a little piece upstream. Will you leave Sealey Back to me?"
I looked at him and saw that a frown cut deep lines in his chubby face . This one bass, that I had ·just a slim chance of catching, meant much to the eager-eyed little devil.
I grinned back at him. "Sure," I said.
A Good Vacation!
CampusInterviews on CigaretteTests
Number8 •••THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE
·,,I don't go for a wild pitch!"
Clean-up man on the baseball nine, this slugger doesn't like to reach for 'em ... wants it right over the plate. And that's the way helikes his proof of cigarette mildness! No razzle-dazzle "quick-puff" tests for him. No one-whiff, one-puff experiments. There's one test, he's discovered, that's right down the alley!
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More People Smoke Camels than any other cigarette!