Issuu

Volume Lll f

MARCH, 1927

Number 5

University of Richmond Students Cordially Invited to

ST. PAUL'S (NINTH

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Vested Choir of 40 Voices With the Following Soloists: Tenor-Joseph

Whittemore

Soprano-Mrs.

Bass-Norman

Call

Alto-Mrs.

Frances W. Reinhart

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UNIVERSITYOF RICHMOND INCLUDES

1. Richmond College, a College of Liberal Arts for Men . 2. Westhampton College, a College of Liberal Arts for Women. 3. The T. C. Williams School of Law, a Professional School of Law, offering the Degree of LL. B. 4.

The Summer School. W. L. Prince, M. A., Director. Richmond College for Men W. L. PRINCE,

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Richmond College for Men is an old and well-endowed College of Liberal Arts, which is recognized everywhere as a Standard American College. Its degrees are accepted at face value in the great graduate and technical schools of America . Its alumni are so widely scattered through the nation that the new graduate immediately joins a large and friendly group of men holding positions of power and influence. The College occupies modern and well -equipped buildings, on a beautiful campus of 150 acres in the western suburbs of Richmond.

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KELLER,

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Westhampton College for Women, co-ordinate with Richmond College for Men, is housed in handsome buildings on a campus of 140 acres, separated from the Richmond College campus by a beautiful lake of about nine acres. All degrees are given by the University of Richmond, and those conferred on women are, in all respects, equivalent to those conferred on men. While the two institutions are co-ordinate, they are not co-educational.

The T. C. Williams School of Law J.

BARNETT,

JR . , LL . B ., SECRETARY

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THE

MESSENGER

Students' Literary Monthly since 1876 EDITORIAL DEPARTMENT W.

Richmond

College

Westhampton

College

E. SLAUGHTER.

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MAcCARTY

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Vol. LIi

MARCH,

Richmond

College

W esthamptan

College

1927

No.

CONTENTS Is YouNG, LAD" (Play) Leslie L. Jones CAPRICIOUSNESS (Free Verse) . Marvin G. Williams NOBILITY (Free Verse) Roland Calhoun "WHEN

ALL

THE

CHARGE

17 17

(Bed-Time Stary) J. ponald DeVilbiss

UNIVERSITATUS THE

WORLD

AMERICANUS

MADE (Elegy) M. S. Shockley

THAT

THE COLLEGE

"BETWEEN

YOURSELF

AND ME"

LA MORT

D'UN

COEUR

(Fairy Tale) Mildred Anderson

(Dirge)

A. Femme ALL

FOR LOVE

(Panegyric

How

I BECAME

A MAID

WHEN Two

A MAN'S

'Verse) . E. Emroch

MAN (Confession) By the Bull of Bashan

(Sentimental Verse) Anne Opus

IN LOVE

PoEMS

R. Ben Cheatham THE

EDITORIAL

PEN

35 CENTS

$2.00 THE COLLEGE YEAR

A COPY

THE MESSENGER is published every month from November to June inclusive by the students of the University of Richmond in Virginia. Contributions are welcomed from all members of the student body and from the alumni . Manuscripts not found available for publication will be returned. All business communications should be addressed to the Business Managers. Entered as second-class mond, Virginia. Copyright,

matter at the postoffice at the University 1926, by W. E. Slaughter.

~===========:1~

of Rich-

"ll Shrill Whistle Is Heard" (See Page 11-)

"WHEN ALL THE WORLD IS YOUNG, LAD" A Play in One Act BY LESLIE L. JONES (Illustration by Lloyd Caster)

The curtain rises on a by-no-means-typical college room. That is, on a room which does not present the typical notion of a college man's chambers as held by persons who infest the cinematograph and the Keith-Albee circuit. Not, however, that the setting is untrue to life. There are a few such oases of order and comparative cleanliness in every institution of the higher learning, not even excluding the shambles of Thomasson's Hall. The owner of this room ( who is sitting on a Chesterfield, smoking a Ditto, and who will be more fully touched upon anon) possesses a measure of good taste inherited from a family of excellent standing, a sense of order acquired from a twoyear shift in the United States Marine Corps, and a large, agile broom obtained from a department store in town for a matter of seventyfive cents. Our realist friends in the audience, therefore, need not be disturbed by the several eye-soothing prints which hang, in neat frames suspended by blue silk cords, upon a buff-tinted wall. The floor, also, is marvelously unsoiled, having recently known the caress of an O-Cedar mop generously laden with oil. The furniture is fairly homogeneous, and no signs of neck-ties, B. V. D.'s, soiled towels, or similar impedimenta of the usual collegiate abbatoir are in evidence. It is a room not without charm and comfort, and would do credit to any military academy or to the Citizens' Training Camp to which Bill Sanderson regularly goes each summer in the role of instructor, holding, as he does, a commission as Second Lieutenant in the United States Reserve Corps. Bill Sanderson is a senior in Matthews College, twenty-four years old, and rather popular with the boys, who flee from the wrack of their own rooms to hang about the orderliness of his, Some of them had just done so before the curtain went up. They are now draped over various comfortable chairs, puffing at cigarettes of divers manufacture. While the audience is examining in detail the large copy of Maxfield Parrish's "Daybreak" which hangs just over the cabinet Victrola right center, it would be well, perhaps, to take a cursory glance at Bill's guests. LLEWELLYN NELSON, who is smoking a Fatima (he smokes Pall Malls the first week in the month, Fatimas the second, and whatever he can cabbage the rest of the month) is a senior, writes free verse, is Chairman of the Prom Committee, and wields an allegedly vicious line. RODNEY HILL is not smoking. He runs an occasional, creditable half-mile for the honor of dear old Matthews and is now in training. He also edits the M onthty JJ,fercury and consistently refuses to print any free verse, especially Nelson's, in spite of which they are good friends. Rodney still trots-on paper-with the Junior Class.

THE MESSENGER

BRYANT HART is a sophomore who has never had a date across the river with a fair co-ordinate. Or even, for that matter, with an unfair one. He is addicted to Kant, Voltaire, and Karl Marx. He reads the Workers Weekly, is a friend of the people, believes in the millenium, and has never been hungry in his life. He has a keen mind and is a sound thinker. Unlike his comrades of the Soviet he is always scrupulously attired. He has even been seen in knickers. CHARLEY TERRELL started off as a Divinity Student. The second year he inclined towards the Y. M. C. A. work. Next vear he will go in for Social Service ( a larger field, you know), and after graduation will very probably sell automobiles. At present he is Secretary of the "Y" and a member of the Ministerial Association. He has a secret longing for the "blown bubbles of the world," but cannot consistently lend countenance to such vanities. He is no fool (none of Bill's intimates are), but is in somewhat of a mental and spiritual turmoil because of an inate love of life and beauty which is breaking through a twenty-year crust of family and small-town religious repression. Although he is good looking and is not precisely awkward, he has never had what Bill would call a Class A date. Bill, however, has hopes for him. As the curtain rises Bill's pleasing, and comfortably-soft voice cleaves the smoke and silence. We catch him right in the middle of a sentence, for which, however, we offer no apologies. The bull session ( and those persons who have been deploring the vanishing art of conversation would do well to inspect the collegiate bull session) had been going on for some time before the stage manager signaled for foots and dimmers. And anyway, as most of the audience will not be seated when the curtain goes up, what does it matter if the boys have been chatting a bit, more or less? In fact, it makes no difference at all, besides saving the dramatist a lot of trouble trying to explain how this particular subject got started. Bill and Llewellyn are in evening dress. Hart and Hill are more or less in deshabille, the latter affecting a very uncommunistic smoking jacket, while Terrell wears a neat blue-serge suit, white shirt, and a small bat-wing tie. The darkness seen through the windows indicates that the hour is nocturnal. A tall clock-a sort of antiquewhich stands in the corner, intimates that it is somewhere beween twelve-thirty and one. The hands point to twelve-forty-five, but these are not to be taken too seriously. Like their owner, for that matter, who is rather much of a good-natured farceur on the surface. Underneath the pearl studs and linen, however, are deep scars, both physical and spiritual. In the bottom of the wardrobe trunk, left center, are several small disks of silver and of gold, acquired along with the scars. BrLL: --we have to admit that it soils a woman more than it does a man. BRYANT: I don't see that. A woman certainly has the right to demand that a man come to her as clean as she goes to him.

"WHEN ALL THE WORLDIS YOUNG,LAD"

BILL: Frequently he does. And after all, what is soiled, and what is clean? We use those words too carelessly in regards to sex. Damaged goods? Of course now, disease is a different matter. Disease is disgusting, vulgar, and rotten taste. There's your real sin, as I have declaimed before. Bad taste. Sex can be as clean and pure as Ivory Soap, even without benefit of clergy, if it is accompanied by refinement, good taste, affection, romance, youth, and similar fixings. On the other hand, a dozen popes and a million court clerks cannot make the thing decent if these are lacking. Good taste, lads, good taste. That's what the Greek meant when he said, "Know thyself." BRYANT: I'll be damned if he did. What he-meant was, "\,Vorking men of the world LLEWELLYN: ... unite, you have nothing to lose but your chains." (Dodges pillows thrown by Bryant. Opens cigarette case and finds it empty.) : All right, old friend of the people, give me one of LLEWELLYN those bolshevistic Piedmonts. ( Lights it and sighs.) To think I would ever come to this-so early in the month. Piedmonts. That's what good taste does for you. Bill Sanderson's good taste. I could have gotten a barrel of gin for what he paid-what am I sayingfor what I paid for that champagne. I'll be broke the rest of my life. BILL: Rot! You paid, if I remember rightly, exactly one-fourth of the taxation, which, the same, entitles you to exactly one-fourth of the cargo, or to speak more exactly, one and one-half litre, which is to say, four honest brimming goblets. LLEWELLYN:My God! Eighteen dollars for four glasses of wine. If that girl spills a drop of it I shall choke her to death with my own bare hands. I could eat a month on eighteen dollars. Eighteen dollars! Four glasses of champagne! Oh, mother, send for your darling boy ! BILL: 0, wipe your chin! You spend four dollars for a neck-tie that makes a decent man gag, and a darn sight more for rot-gut liquor, and then belliache about eighteen dollars invested in honest wine and a party that will go down in the annals of your Iif e as the most lovely spot of your entire collegiate loaf-I mean life. LLEWELLYN: But eighteen berries for four glasses! I ask you, gentlemen, if this party is not due to be good ? Eighteen dollars? And four dollars for gas, and nine dollars for breakfast. I ask you, gentlemen--

THE MESSENGER

RODNEY: All right then, ask us. What in the hell is it all about? Whaddye mean anyway, all dressed up? Are you coming or going? LLEWELLYN:Going, I hope. I've got thirty-one sheckels invested in this shindig, and it had better be good. BILL: You old fraud. You're dying to go, and you don't regret the thirty-one a bit. If you still regret it tomorrow I'll give you thirty-five-when I get it. LLEWELLYN : The reservation is good. Don't bother. (A noise as of sonuone running up the steps can be heard. The door crashes open and Roger (Buck) Lee casts himse.lf into the room. He wears a tweed top-coat and is in evening dress.) RODNEY: What? Another one? The plot thickens-tuxedos, champagne, breakfast. Quick, Watson, the needle ! LLEWELLYN: What ho, Buck!

No women?

BucK: Women, hell! Too many women. Of all the damn luck. . . That fool Addison has just come down with the mumps. ALL HANDS: Mumps? BucK:

Add?

Mumps! Mumps! And tonight of all nights.

LLEWELLYN: And eighteen dollars for four glasses. . . . I'll be damned if I pay for his share. If he can't go he's just out of luck, that's all. BILL: Keep your shirt on, Lew. When that Moet and Chandon trickles down your wind pipe you'll be willing to pay eighteen a single glass. LLEWELLYN: Mebbe. If it's all that good I don' want to see it. Why couldn't the ass wait until tomorrow? Mumps! Dawgone him, says I. BILL: And I, too, but that doesn't help any. We've got the champ, and breakfast has been ordered for eight. And how about Peggy? She'll be there, and no date. Despite my own admitted charm and skill I do not feel equal to entertaining two ladies on a party like this. RODNEY: For heving's sake! What are you idiots talking about? Peggy, champagne, breakfast. Come down to earth, willya? LLEWELLYN:That's just where we are, dammit. vVe who would soar to Elysian heights, we who would have breakfast-a champagne breakfast, mind you-with the four niftiest girls in Culton College, our sweet co-ordinates over the river-we have the mumps. Mumps!

"WHEN ALL THE WORLDIS YOUNG,LAD"

And the party flooey. dollars for--

There's your aestheticism.

BILL: SHUT UP! I have an idea. The--

This party is going to function per schedule.

LLEWELLYN: An other idea.

And eighteen

Hands on pocketbooks !

BILL: The girls are game enough to risk it, and we're going to be there at one-thirty. And there are going to be four of us, too. Charlie, you have just fifteen minutes to climb into a tux. You can use Bryant's. A communist has no business with a dress suit anyway. CHARLIE: Who?

Me?

ALL HANDS: WHO?

CHARLIE?

BILL: Exactly. Charles P. Terrell, of South Carolina. The gentleman on my left. The luckiest cuss in Matthews College. He is going to slide into some clothes in precisely fifteen minutes, as previously announced, and is going on the most memorable party ever unrecorded in the annals of this here institution. Just fifteen minutes, Charlie, so hike. Here, Bryant, take him down to your room and fit him up. Lew and Buck will help you. Allez vous en. CHARLIE: But, Bill-BILL: But me no buts. Get into the fish and soup and be at the Circle in fifteen minutes . One-quarter of an hour. Allez ! CHARLIE: But, Bill-BILL : Great guns ! The child will drive me mad. Of all unappreciative dogs. Good Lord, Charlie, half the fellows in Matthews would fight their weight in wildcats to go on this party-with Peggy Worthington. Peggy Worthington ! And here I am offering you the chance of a lifetime. If you don't thank me the rest of your natural life, it won't cost you a cent. Just look : a forty-mile drive over paved roads, a lovely old colonial mansion on the river bank, groves of oak trees, honeysuckle vines, tall green hedges, a swim in the river i' the moonlight, and then breakfast-waffles, golden syrup, champagne, and the prettiest, liveliest, classiest girl in the whole bloody univer sity. For crying out loud. If Rod here wasn't in training-RODNEY: Training?

Who said I was in training.

The devil--

BILL: Steady, Rodney, steady. Charlie is coming to his senses. Out with him, fellows. Fix him up cute, and get his tie on straight. (Shoves Charlie, Ll ewellyn, Bu ck and Bryant out of the room .)

THE MESSENGER RODNEY: Bill, is this thing straight, this party business? BILL : As straight as a die. RODNEY: Well, dammit, whaddye mean not letting me in on it instead of that pious sophomore. BILL: Who said Charlie was pious? The fell ow has never had a chance. When I first framed this little festival, I thought of the poor devil and figured him in on it. That's the only phoney part of the whole works. Buck and Addison and I are the only ones in the plot, and Add will be around tomorrow as hale and hearty as ever. You see, we figured that the only chance to get Charlie in on this was to stampede him before he came to. Did you notice how he flushed when I mentioned Peggy Worthington? He is certainly suffering from suppressed desires or something. He's just dying to go, but scared to death, and if I didn't have lots of confidence in youth, and Peggy, and moonlight, I wouldn't risk running a blind date on the sweet child. She would never forgive me if I put a crimp in this party. RODNEY: Well, trust Charlie for that.

He'll put a crimp into it.

BILL: Mebbe yea, and mebbe no. "Quand on est jeune, vous savez, il faut qu'on profite de sa jeunesse." Mum's the word, lad. Only you and Hart know of this little party, and you know what it means to the girls if it leaks out. Shipped as sure as eggs is eggs. Under your hat, Rod, under your hat. (Puts on a dark top-coat, and hunts about for his hat.) RoDNEY: Bill, you won't do. You're a hell of a fellow, and I envy you right down to the ground. BILL: You but jest, me lord. After all, Rod, it's really a matter of missionarying, you know. I'm doing it for Charlie's sake, what? RODNEY: Mebbe yea, and mebbe no.

Bill, you're an old fraud.

. BILL : Thanks, old horse collar. . . . And now I'm off for Buckingham Palace. Regards to the missus and the bairns. Adios, senor, adieu, and auf wiedersehen. ( Starts out of door.) RODNEY: Where are your bathing suits? BILL: Bathing suits? How come, Rod? RODNEY: This nocturnal dip. You said you were going in. BILL: You betcha life we are. RODNEY: Well then?

"WHEN

ALL THE

WORLD IS YOUNG,

LAD"

BILL ( coming a little way into the room) : Rodney, dear, you are so mid-victorian. Should I ever hear you again refer to any thing so indelicate, or passe, as a bawth costume, I shall most assuredly slap you upon the wrist. "Quand on est jeune, vous savez"--

(As Rodney throws a pitlow at him, Bill turns the light switch. The room is thrown into darkness, and Bill can be heard descending the steps four at a time. Then silence.) At this point we introduce the new drama. So long as we were all in Bill's room, the good old-fashioned brand sufficed. Now, however, as we are getting out into God's green out-of-doors, aid must be summoned. And this comes in the form of what the Old Guard calls "the unspeakable drama." To-wit: the movies. In order that the proper effect be secured, the instructions here given must be followed with the utmost care and faithfulness. As the room fades from view, and before the collective eye of the audience can fathom the new shade of darkness ( the exit lights, unfortunately, must be left on in deference to a possibly sane, but somewhat unaesthetic fire department) the left center panel of the setting (one-time Bill's buff-tinted wall) must be twirled quickly by agile and strong-armed stage hands, while almost at the same time a large touring car, containing the eight joy-riders, moves slowly in from right front, selects a comfortable place on that side of the stage, and becomes sureptitiously jacked up by an adequate personnel. Then, almost before the audience has suspected that the party is assembled, the tail and parking lights twinkle on, and the headlights crash blindingly against the left center wall. Only it is not really the headlights, nor is it a wall. The flash of light is against a wellconstructed screen and is caused by a moving picture machine. Properly executed this should present a convincing picture of a paved road winding through the country. In other words, the audience sees exactly what the occupants of the car see, the road, the woods, the signs, etc. Of course, however, the lens must not project the lovely squared screen as is usual in movie emporiums. We have great faith in modern stage mechanics, and are sure that the slight details necessary to give the illusion of a country highway at two o'clock in the morning, can be contrived by those persons who affect such things. The audience, then, sees only the dark bulk of the car at right front, and the lighted roadway against the left center back. In the car, shadows of various forms may be dimly perceived. . . From now on we must utilize a new form of typography. To-wit: three parallel and vertical columns. Beginning at the left, the first column indicates exactly when and what the audience hears. This is the auditory phase. The middle column reveals the action of the speedometer, as clarified by the tiny light on the dashboard. In the third column is given a faithful representation of the visual conditions of the highway along which our young friends are flitting. The motor, of course, must be running, and all the natural noises of a healthy high-powered automobile rendered faithfully.

THE

MESSENGER

\Vhile we have been explaining aII this, the car has gotten some distance out of town. We had better delay no longer. LleweIIyn has temporarily forgotten the eighteen doIIars, and the whole party is in fine fettle. Except, you ask, how about Charlie. Let's see .. Auditory I'm sitting on top of the world Just rolling along just roll-ing along I'm quitting the blues of the world Just singing a song just sing-ing a song Glory Hal-Ie-Iu-j ah I just phoned the parson

m.p.h. 45

Visual

12 MILES TO MIDWAYGARAGE

50 PREPARE TO MEET THY Goo

Ray, rah! Rah! Rah!

CAUTION CURVEAHEAD 53

Hoo rah, for Hell! It's a poor man who won't shout 62 for his own country!

Oh, I wish I had someone to love me, Some ONE to caaaall me their own

Visual

60 CHESTERFIELD

Such Popularity Must Be Deser'lled

Oh, I wish I had SOMEONE to live with

Cause I'm ti ii ired of living a-Ione

9 MILES TO MIDWAYGARAGE

Old Green and Pink, we'll wave on high, Old Mathews,sure we'll win or die. Ray! Ray! Old Mathews, MATHEWS! 63 Ray! Ray! Old Mathews! MATHEWS! Ray! Ray! Old Mathews! RAY!RAY!RAY! There's a church in the valley by the wildwood

Yes, sir, 56 That's my baby NO, SIR, Don't mean "Maybe" 60 YES, SIR, That's my Baby NO O O O WI

m.p.h.

Gee, your hand is cold!

"Hey, par get ready to call," Just like Humpty Dumpty I'm going to fall. 55 I'm sitting on top of the world Ju st rolling along Just roll-ing along

Auditory

Stand off my ankle!

EAT MORE BREAD DEATH Is ON YOURTRACK

No love Ii er spot in the dale No place is so dear to my childhood as the little brown church in the va a a le

COME TO JESUS

60 UNITED STATES TIRES

65 66

Near This Point was fought the Battle of Three Sticks. Ten thousand Federal Soldiers under Gen. Winslow were attacked.

"WHEN

ALL THE

WORLD IS YOUNG,

Auditory m.p.h. Visual Come come come come come : Come to come : the 65 come : church come : in the come : wildwood t come : 0, come 63 MOUNT SHARON come: to the M. E. CHURCH come : church ( South) come: in the Rev.P.E.Witt come : vaaale Pastor AMEN!

58 59

'Lo, Frankie, old top!

63 65 67 68

69 70

You Are Now Leaving FRANKLINGBURG

Begin 30 Mile Limit

Slumber on my little gypsy sweetheart

SUN MAID RAISINS

make Better Puddings 55 WHERE

WILL

Sweet ADELINE my-y-y Adeline In all my DREAMS YOUR fair face beams

You MUST BE BORN AGAIN

YOU SPEND ETERNITY

Can you hear me, hear me in that dreamland Where your fancies rove? 53 SLUM B E R ON my little gypsy sweetheart, WILD little wood -- land DOVE Can you hear the song th a a t tells you AAALLL my heart's true love?

Auditory m.p.li. Visual Franklingburg ! Franklingburg ! 50 Rah! Rah! Rah! FRANKLINGBURG 55 Begin 56 15 Mile Limit 57

Step on her, Buck!

Dream of the field and the grove

LAD"

You're the flower er er of my heart Sweet Adeline STOP! What? (innocently)

COCA-COLA Delicious Refreshing 7,000,000 a Day

Now, be good. How can I? Ray for Charlie! Ray for the Y ! Ray for everybody!

2 MILES TO MIDWAY GARAGE

SONOCO

You Are Now Approaching FRANKLINGBURG

Chicken Dinner One-Fifty CENTRAL HOTEL

Comon, fellows, a little harmony. That Old Gang of Mine? Righto! 55 Gee ee ee but I'd give the world to see that

PREPARE TO MEET THY Goo

THE

m.p.l,.

Auditory o o o Id gang of mi ii n e

MESSENGER

Visual

m.p.h.

Are you girls still there?

For hell's sake, 45 Buck, pay more attention to that wheel. I've no desire to feature in an omelet.

I can't forget that OLD QUARTETTE that sang SWEET ADELINE

Auditory

CAUTION!

Curve Ahead

0, pipe down

DONG DONG

(A shrill whistle) DONG DONG DONG DONG Goo BLESS DONG THEM, gee DONG DONG but

I'D GIVE the world TO SEE

DONG DONG DONG

R.R. XING

One-Half Mile

He was go-ing down grade making ninety miles an hour when the whistle FULL STOP BE gan AT R. R. CROSSINGS to SCREAM

36 RAILROAD CROSSING

DANGER

DONG DONG DONG

DONG DONG

40 Step on her! DONG 43 DONG 45 DONG 50 DONG

DONG 55 Good God, DONG DONG 60 Buck! DONG Another centimeter DONG 55 and they'd DONG DONG 50 had us!

Be still, me beating heart.

EAT YEAST

for

(As hrill whistle) Hold er, Buck! Watch yourself!

(A long silence)

39 38 35 34 30

HEALTH

Police Order

DONG 35 DONG

PREPARETO MEET THY Goo

Such bad taste, you 40 know.

45 BYE, GOOD 42 forever, old 40 fellows and gals. 38 GOOD -BYE DONG forever, DONG old sweetheart DONG DONG and pals

Visual

(A blinding headlight of approaching engine)

MAINLINE

Full Stop

He was FOUND in the wreck with his hand on the throttle and was scalded to DEATH by the STEAM

BE SUREYOUR SINS WILL FIND You OUT

WHERE WILL YOU SPENDETERNITY?

Now laugh that off!

30 There's a long 1 o ng trail a winding i n t o the land ofmy dreams where the nightingale is

FATIMAS

What a Whale of a di/f erence a few cents make!

DEATH Is ON YOURTRACK

"WHEN ALL THE WORLDIS YOUNG,LAD" Auditory singing and a bright moon beams There's a long night of waiting until my dreams all

m.p.h.

Visual

Auditory come true Till the day when I'll be going Down that long long trail with you

m.p.h.

Visual

To THE SPECKLEDBASS 2 Miles Right

[DRAMATIST'SNoTE: An ingenious director with an indefatigable cast, and a patient audience can contrive no end of variations on this nocturnal motoring theme. The idea is not copyrighted and is hereby presented to suffering humanity. (There is a moral to this play, as will hereafter be seen.) There are lots more songs which can be sung, and we have loads of cute signboards which can be neatly interspersed with the C majors and the barber shop chords. . . . Now let's go on with the play.]

Auditory Here we are!

RAAA

m.p.h. 30

Visual

25 25 20

THE SIGN

Auditory SHUT UP!

m.p.h. 10

Visual

of the SPECKLED BASS

Honk! Honk!

5 0

(The headlights sweep across the front of a building of modern construction but colonial design. Just before the lights switch off, we get a glimpse of honeysuckle vines and tall green hedges, with a splash of river lined with old oak trees seen far across a gently sloping lawn. The night swallows the auto as Buck turns the key. A few staccatto, but guarded, barks of the horn are answered by a tiny porch light which sweeps a patch of the darkness from about a highly polished door. The door swings slowly open and the party scrambles out of the car. Two and two they enter the house. A tall negro in livery holds the door open. Charlie Terrell and Peggy Worthington are the last to descend. Peggy seems a bit amused, or surprised, or both. They are standing near the end of the car and can be seen in silhouette against the dimly lit porch.) PEGGY: I thought you had never had a date before? CHARLIE: I haven't really. You . . . you're not angry? Are you? PEGGY ( laughing adorably, albeit dangerously) : Angry? You funny boy. Bill told me you had never kissed a girl before. CHARLIE: I hadn't-like

that.

Honest.

PEGGY: Ah, some men are born great, some men achieve greatness, and some men have greatness thrust upon them. You must

THE MESSENGER

have been born that way. Don't tell me that my irresistible charms are to blame. I believe it was that train that set you crazy. CHARLIE: It was. In a way. PEGGY: Well. I like that. CHARLIE: Oh, I didn't mean it that way. You see, it was like this. I was all right until-PEGGY: You mean all wrong. I remember now, it was that train. We were scared silly for more than a mile, and then suddenly you went crazy. Or got some sense. CHARLIE: \Vell, I hope I never come to. PEGGY: That's better. You're really picking up. CHARLIE: It was those signs mostly. They converted me. I was really sorry I had come until I had read about a dozen of those evangelistic signs. After I had been informed that "death is on my track," and told to get ready to meet my God, and asked where I was going to spend eternity ( he is a bit excited) why, then, I decided that Bill was right after all. "Quand on est jeune, ii faut qu'on profi,te de sa jeunnesse." PEGGY: Steady, Charles, steady. I take Spanish. CHARLIE: Well, then, in good old English it means : When one is young, why, then, one must profit of his youth. Quand on est jeuene . ... PEGGY(interrupting him effectively by kissing him on the mouth): talk. . Honey, you talk so much ... CHARLIE( recovering from the shoe k) : Right you are, kid. Let's go! As Bill would say, "Vive la joie." (He puts his arm about her shoulders and enters the house. The door closes behind them and the tiny porch lamp discreetly signs off for the evening . . . or morning.)

CURTAIN

CAPRICIOUSNESS Recognition, a hand shake and the common touch, The tentacles of the conjurers interlock Around all gullible heads. Today is Saturday, before the Election, On Tuesday. Crossing of brotherly lines, a request, a promise, Frequents of hitherto unexplored places To twist a thought to please. Today is Saturday, before the Election, On Tuesday. Platforms none, reasons for running none. No reforms, no faith in present policies. Only felicitation and solicitation. Today is Saturday, before the Election, On Tuesday. -Marvin

G. Williams.

NOBILITY A chunk of five foot six a sophisticated remnant of humanity gliding flat-footedly across an inferior campus shellaced hair on an upturned twisted head nose pointed upward as if smelling something offensive balloon trousers a bagged coat a lighted cigarette twixt two fingers a damfool a pain a snob. -Roland Calhoun.

UNIVERSITATUS AMERICANUS J. DONALD

DEVILBISS

(Illustrations by Wilbert Crocker)

Now, my children, once in the early part of the merry Twentieth Century there lived a lad named Louie. It seems that Louie graduated from the very best military prep school in the country, and, in addition to a large and elaborate diploma, fared forth with a pair of gilded lieutenant's chevrons, a set of even more gilded patriotic ideals, and a "football knee." All of which, as they tell us in the Sunday school leaflets, Louie owed to his parents-particularly the much-gilded ideals, for by some chance these parents had struggled through a hampered youth in that pre-historic period vaguely referred ·to by novelists as the Victorian Age. In fact, everyone is rather vague when we try to get the inside dope on this period. So far as can be gleaned, the forefathers had ideals instead of sport roadsters, drank 4,½ per cent beer without pulling down the window shades, and were not afflicted with state troopers to hand out tickets for dousing the parking-light on the one-hoss shay. But we digress ( no, Snookums, a digress is not a pair of female Ethiopians). We left Louie with hand outstretched to receive his diploma from a bespectacled military gentleman, and the handclasp of nine of the ten reasons why Germany signed the Armistice. We next behold our hero in an interview with the Dean of Smith and Wesson University. Smith and Wesson had been chosen for Louie on account of its recent leap into athletic and financial prominence. The University had really been founded 'way back in 1923, but, thanks to an appallingly huge endowment contributed by an alumnus high in the bootlegging profession, things were indeed looking up. Thus enabled to employ a victorious football squad, and a number of research experts to furnish the requisite halo of tradition and antiquity, the University was, at the time of Louie's entre, attaining an aspect of snobbery such as would do credit to even fair Harvard. The dean was a fairly well-preserved antediluvian specimen, with a soothing voice and white Van Dyke. He took Louie affectionately by the hand, bidding him welcome to the friendly college community. "Remember, my boy," he concluded, "not only will you imbibe here of the fountain of knowledge, but you will also be in the midst of one of the few remaining oases of idealism in the materialistic

UNIVERSITATUS

AMERICANUS

desert of modern life. You will find here the ideal democracy, where every man bears the stamp of the University, where they walk arm in arm, each loyal to his fellow student because they all hail and revere Alma Mater . However, I cannot overemphasize also the value of your classwork-it is of course necessary that you put forth your best efforts in the scholastic field in order to remain affiliated with the University, and to do justice to Alma Mater and yourself. For the sake of the parents who often send their sons here at a sacrifice . . . etc ., etc. . . ." But let us view no longer this touching monodrama. After standing in lines for several days, Louie was finally matriculated and free to roam the synthetically historic campus, his soul fired with ambitious zeal and happiness. Already he felt the subtle atmosphere entering his being with every breath of the pine-tinged air ; with every "howdy" of passing classmates, who, like he, had been tutored in the democratic beau gestes of campus etiquette . So Louie attended his first class, and his second-and by the end of the week began to notice that all was not as he had been led to believe. He had read of the changing methods of instruction in higher educational institutions and looked forward to the interested discussion of the subject at hand by the older students and the professor, which latter would sit as arbiter and advisor in an unbiased, encyclopedic status. Our hero was consequently puzzled to see the seats slowly filling up from the back of the room, and more than astonished to find the back row composed of evident upperclassmen who were either reading the morning mail or nonchalantly dozing in the most breakneck positions. Not yet having his textbook, Louie, ventured a glance at the lad on his left , dropping a hint as to his destitute condition, only to find that that industrious student was at the moment covering some important parallel in DeCassio' s Bocameron. By this time Louie began to make other important discoveries, one being that only his own classmates responded to his passing greeting. Defensively, he ceased to speak to anyone, and before another week was out, he was being most rushingly rushed by the brotherhood of Eta Beta Pi. Eta Beta Pi was universally rated the best drinking club on the campus, and the £raters were so exclusive that they often absent-mindedly "snooted" each other. Now Louie had heard considerable concerning fraternities and made his first entry into "the house" prepared to view the worst without allowing a blush to creep above his neck: Fraters four were engaged in a

THE

MESSENGER

bridge game, assisted with much enthusiasm by £raters three. Frequent supplications to the Diety seemed apropos to every eventuality, but they swore with much less fluency than had Louie's fifteen-yearold top-kick. One £rater in the corner clawed at his hair while poring through "Infinitesimal Calculus" . . . actually studying 1 But where, oh where, was the flowing gin, the traffic signs, the decorative motif of silk stockings ( snitched from sister), and Rayon "step-ins" ( surreptitiously purchased from Blears-Sawbuck & Co.) ?

Up to the time of mid-year exams Louie was well on his way toward a complete college education: He knew just which booticians delivered their wares and which ran a strictly cash and carry business; he had mapped out the surrounding highways with regard to

.. .. /~. .-

;..-:.,.,

•~::~

~-,,.,,. , 4."~

-. - ~--

,., -;~.··: :.. ,~~~?:.,;<i-;\'~~:..·,

l \

"Eloise was entirely capable of painting

herself"

UNIVERSITATUS

AMERICANUS

propitious parking places where John Law never, never would make a crowd; he had met Eloise at a church social, had taken Eloise to all the house dances, and had kissed Eloise once. For the benefit of those, if any there be, who do not know an Eloise, we will turn painter a moment and sketch a sketch-though, of course, Eloise was entirely capable of painting herself. Eloise was the person they were thinking about when they fornmlated the axiom that gentlemen pref er blondes-baby face, big blue eyes, turned-up nose ; and a line that would make Dartmouth look like something the cat had dragged in. And Eloise had become Louie's ideal, his sole raison d'etre, as it were. One by one his other illusions had ambled off to limbo-all save this one-he could always feel warm arms about his neck, a soft throbbing little body pressed close to his, fragrant hair brushing his lips. And, like Antony, he was well content: "I have done all else ill-I have done this thing well." And when Eloise smiled, cosmic actualities faded . . . faded . . . faded. After all, what did it matter. . "Just you and I together--" ,, "O what a wonderful dream . Louie's mind jerked back to the question sheet before him. How in Allah's name could one derive the formula for finding the second derivative of x to the nth. He heard the professor's colorless voice. "That first problem is absurdly easy, gentlemen, but I think the rest will be less of an insult to your powers of reasoning." Louie signed his name on a blank piece of paper and fled. He would call up Eloise and find consolation, make arrangements for the coming dances. "I'm so sorry, Louie, but I already have a date for the prom." Her voice trickled over the wires so genuinely regretful that he was almost convinced that she would rather have gone with him. So the days passed, as days are wont to do, and Louie looked upon the co-eds and other atrocities in the way of available material for dancing partners, and as a result of these observations drove across town to the dance alone. On the way he noticed the Nash sport touring of the town's bonded bootlegger parked in front of Barksdale Bradford's mansion, which Barksdale was now occupying alone, due to the attractions of the Italian Riviera. Barksdale, the most superlatively snobbish representative of the Mayflower upon the campus, was evidently taking no chances of the dance being boring.

THE

MESSENGER

The struggle was of an especial moment to Louie. Debutantes and telephone girls, co-eds and mill workers-all dressed alike, all chewing Beechnut gum, all smoking Chesterfields, all using the same guttery slang. Louie had a rare habit of thinking at times: "After all, why be a blind hypocrite. A lonesome little mill worker, whose only reception room is a Main Street corner, is picked up by a passing Fordist, and the town council has a special meeting to preserve our fair and lovely city from the grasp of the devil. A debutante drives out to the Niblick Country Club in her Pierce, gets elaborately pickled, and spends the remainder of the evening on bunker No. 7 with an equally well-oiled gentleman-and next day the Evening Windbag features a two-column cut of the 'charming daughter of Gen. Cleaning.' Well, wot the hell!" Weary of the farce and unable to locate Eloise, Louie decided to drive back to the dorms and get up a poker game. As he seated himself in his car he glanced at the scrumptuous Sunbeam limousine across the street. That would be Bradford's, of course. The man at the wheel struck a match to light his companion's cigarette. Eloise! The limousine moved out of its park and raced up the avenue. "Of course, the damn drunken sot would insist on taking an extra intermission." Feeling none too buoyant, Louie sought out the nearest confectionery, purchased a pint of corn (known to our fathers as roach exterminator) and drove slowly up town. Passing Bradford's mansion again, he missed the bootlegger's car, but was surprised to see a Sunbeam limousine parked a few doors beyond, where the street lights faded out almost into obscurity. Abreast, he jammed on his brake. Empty! Unconsciously he reached for his bottle of corn and gulped down half the contents while regarding the gaudy auto. A policeman stepped out from the curb : "Hey, wotinells the idea parkin' in the middlea the street . his nose wrinkled suspiciously.

Louie extended the bottle without thinking and threw in the gear lever. The law's voice trailed after him: "Thanks, old timer, but if I go blind I'll see that you get a ticket." Louie played no poker that night. He broke up the furniture a while, found a hidden quart of his roommate's, annihilated most of it, wandered out on the campus, and finally passed out peacefully on the library steps.

UNIVERSITATUS

AMERICANUS

Thus endeth the story of Eloise. Louie had enshrined her on such a high pedestal that nothing recoverable remained after the crash.

In college each semes~er slips by more quickly than the one before, until one day we awake to realize that for us the last cheer has echoed from the hills, the last croupy flivver has clattered on down the road, the last bull-session has broken up, reluctantly, like children afraid to go out in the dark. . . . Louie anticipated an unimposing spread of parchment-a little reverently, a bit thrilled, rather cynically-to be received tomorrow amid cloistered grandeur and solemnity, and then cached in the bottom of his trunk, safe from the suspicions of prospective employers. But the deed would be done, one would have become that impersonal, incomparably ancient object-the alumnus-to return a few months later, perhaps, realizing that the campus has suffered a heavy blow with his graduation-to return, eyes shifty before the glance of the newest pledge. Beginning, and . . . finis. . . . Had Louie been a co-ed he would have cried. As he was not, he embarked upon a terrific jag, and then cried as no girl ever criedblubbering, bawling, and then breaking down completely, in an attempt to enact the soldiers' farewell scene with his roommate. Harry was sympathetic, but being cold sober, could hardly have been expected to respond to the longing, lingering, passionate love of one dead drunk for another. Louie consequently was locked in the shower room and flooded with icy water until he swore by whatever gods there be that he would be good. By nightfall Louie had managed to iron the wrinkles out of his cerebral mechanism, and to some extent to eradicate the "collegiate circles" from under his eyes. For tonight was the grand old final prom-tonight, too, there would be Ariadne, of the Moda Lisa eyes. Araidne was more than a date; she was the ultimate ideal after four long, disillusioning years of search. And some hours later there was still Ariadne, at this precise moment engaged in diminishing the contents of somebody's generous pocket flask, with the observation that: "The guy that called this stuff whiskey would probably think embalming fluid an excellent aperitif." Louie, accidentally viewing the spectacle, meditated for awhile upon the advantages of self-destruction. But what was the use?

THE

MESSENGER

none of them are worth "Women are all alike anyway-and he danced the last dance thought ponderous which idealizing." With with Ariadne without a word, and led her out and solicitously placed her in his roadster. Deciding that she might need a bit of night air before coming within range of her family, he headed toward the rural districts. "Gimmie a cigarette. Wha-at ! You'd rather not? I can't feature you being a reformer. Anyway, pass the Luckies; if I don't soon have a drag I'll pass out." And then, seeing his troubled, youthful eyes: "Listen, Lou, I am neither the best nor yet the worst of all God's chillun. Look at Freida tonight; so damn tight she couldn't navigate. And Lora, blackbottoming with that skirt on! Poor boy, you have what they used to call high ideals of womanhood, and all that old rot. My dear, I wish you worlds of luck, but I don't know where you'll ever find her." "Hurry up and get partially sober, at least, willyuh," Louie flung back. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands and faced the road ahead-a white ribbon where the headlights cut thru the gloom-beyond, black nothingness. vVith fascination Ariadne huddled in the far corner of the seat and watched the speedometer SO, 60, 70. . . . Suddenly a barrier flashed flash around-40,

"He gripped the steering wheel with both hands"

UNIVERSITATUS

AMERICANUS

into the range of the lamps. The shriek of brakes. Scraping gravel. A miraculous skid into the detour as the car wavered uncertainly on two wheels and then settled back right side up. Araidne found herself on Louie's lap, pinned in by the steering wheel. Slowly he reached his arm past her and threw in the gear lever. The car jolted over the unfinished road-the girl's lips touched his face as the wheels slipped into a spring-breaking rut. Then cruelly he crushed her soft body to his: "My God, Ariadne, I love you-love you. All this cant and pretense about morals. What bull ! All right for creatures of stone, perhaps, but, unfortunately, we are not made of stone. For the rest, some are hypocrites and some are not. Why should hypocrisy be counted so great a virtue? Dear heart, nothing on God's earth matters but you, just as you are at this moment. I don't give a damn for the rest . . ." And Louie evidently was speaking the truth. The neglected car left the road, crashed thru a rail fence, bumped across a cabbage patch, and brought up against a rickety farm house with a clatter to wake the dead. It was some time before a wrinkled, sleepy face, with long grey beard, peered over the accordian-pleated hood; above the face a smoking oil lantern flared. Louie raised his head and asked excitedly, "Are you a preacher ?" "Naw, but by crackey, I'd like to know jest who ye be ... " Louie heard only the first word. The farmer stopped his tirade, mouth agape, as the boy's head lowered again near to that head which lay in _the curve of his arm. As their lips met a small white hand was waved in the farmer's general direction. "Go' way," it seemed to say.

THE CHARGE THAT THE COLLEGE MADE (APOLOGIES OF COURSE)

Half a year, half a year, Half a year onward, For college expenses I had six hundred. With all the fire of youth Seeking the noble truth I came to college here With my six hundred. "Onward and upward led," These were the words they said And still I never knew Some one had blundered. I did not make reply, I did not reason why, I never saw the lie; So on to college here With my six hundred. Fees to the right of them, Fees to the left of them, Fees all in front of them, Thus were they sundered; Stormed at by B. West Tabb, "Ten dollars fee for lab"Into the coffers bare, Right in the office there Went my six hundred.

Flashed I my fountain pen, Poured out the iron men, Paid all the many bills, Wrote out a dozen checks And never wondered . So like an honest lad Paid all the fees they had With faith undaunted . I did not think it sad 'Till I had blundered; Then I came out, but notNot with six hundred. Fees to the right of them, Fees to the left of them , Fees just behind them, Thus they were sundered; Room rent and doctor's fee More than they ought to be, Just why, I could not see. After I paid them all Not much was left to me, Only a fragment left Of my six hundred. How can the memory fade Of the wild charge they made? I stood and wondered. Dozens of fees I paid, Charges the college madeGone my six hundred. -M. S. Shockley .

"BETWEEN YOURSELF AND ME" Part of It Was Just Made Up, but Part of It Was So MILDRED

ANDERSON

(Illustrations by Wilbert Crocker)

Once upon a time Alice got tired of going through the lookingglass and decided to go through a soap bubble for a change. The path through the soap bubble led to a wide green place that looked very much like a meadow except that there were many pine trees and red brick buildings about. Alice stood on the top of a little knoll and looked around. She saw a flagpole and looked up to see what color the flag was, but there wasn't any flag. Alice tried to remember what a good citizen did when the flag was gone, but she could only ~~ /r ,__ remember about"half-mast." She was still \ 'I, ~/::J wondering about the flag when she heard \\'ii,~ I a noise and saw a black and orange capI .........=-1 sule coming down two steel rails. 1 1 "Oh," she said aloud, "For Hallowe'en." 1 ~ tY/r:li--=~ "Don't be silly," said a growly voice, F ~ 1~ \,<;<+:;=:::c and Alice looked around expecting to see the March Hare, but saw instead a mothI ' I ""'\ eaten little dog who was frowning at her.

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✓i

l\/

¼ f~

"-~

"BETWEEN

YOURSELF

AND ME"

"I'm not silly," said Alice, who hated people who always told the truth and animals who were brutally frank. "Who are you anyway, and what is it? You're so smart." "I'm Zip," said the moth-eaten dog, "and it is Genus annelida." Zip had taken Biology I, and that always means more after you've taken it. "It has two segments though, instead of many, and clanglia instead of ganglia at the anterior end." "I'm afraid I don't quite understand," said Alice, a little puzzled. "Why does it have the 9 on the front?" "Read the directions," said Zip firmly. "What does he say?" The capsule stopped before a sturdy pile of bricks and air ( one wall of brick and three of air). "What a nice summer house," exclaimed Alice. "The breeze can sweep right in and it'll be as cool as the seashore." "It's not a summer house," said Zip, "but a car station, and in cold weather when the breeze has grown up to be a wind, you ought to see the people waiting, trying to pretend they're warm. As an ideal car station, it's a good grape arbor." "Why was it made that way then?" Alice was puzzled, "How awful!" "Not awful at all; everybody from the road can see everybody inside all the time." "Why do they have to be seen?" asked Alice. "Maybe someone will give them a lift to town," replied Zip, and Alice thought, she wasn't sure, that she detected a note of sarcasm in his voice. A white and tan dog with freckles on his nose approached, and he and Zip conversed in such a low monotone that Alice couldn't catch everything they said. Presently, the dog trotted off and Zip came back to Alice. "That," he said, "is a very educated dog." "Really," said Alice. "Yes," said Zip, "he goes to chemistry classes." "But doesn't he get bored?" asked Alice. "He goes to sleep," replied Zip deliberately. Alice and Zip walked on. They passed a building with lots of alcoves and windows, and Zip said "Sh-h," so they passed by on tiptoe. At the foot of a little hill were two buildings that Zip called "Chapel" and "Student Shop." One seemed to be much more pop-

THE

MESSENGER

ular than the other, and Alice wanted to go in both, but Zip wouldn't let her. His reasons seemed to be confined to "Christian institution" and "not compulsory" that sounded like very big words to Alice, but not very good reasons. They skirted a lake, and a bridge called Half-N-Half that had large signs posted on either end, saying "Our Side" and "Their

Side." Two fish were dancing along the railing of the bridge, singing: "You stay on your side and I'll stay on mine, For Mr. Burns is watching With a tape and measuring line; He's a hard-boiled old codger, That makes me want to laugh, But he's the 'Long Arm of the Law' That guards Bridge Half-N-Half." About that time the fish saw Alice and Zip, and flopped back into the water again. Alice and Zip watched them swim away and then climbed the Hill and passed a buiding with flags on it.

"BETWEEN

YOURSELF

AND ME"

"Is that the house that Jack built?" asked Alice. "No. It's a Temporary Structure where They have everything." Alice wasn't sure who They were, but she didn't dare ask. A voice was coming through the doors of the building. Alice and Zip stood on the front porch and listened awhile, but all they could hear were big words like "Academic" and "Cultural," and Zip said: "It's Monday," and they went back down the steps. Zip escorted Alice over the famous promenade, Hockey Field, and then showed her how you can tell the mail box from the trash cans, which look very much alike to the uninitiated. He showed her where you can find Allen when nobody else can, and told her all about the time he lost his second teeth and how he hadn't gotten any more. When they returned to the white building, they found people in middies and bloomers hanging on things and jumping over what they weren't hanging on. · Alice asked why, and Zip said they were learning to be physically fit, and Alice was very glad she didn't have to learn. Zip took her to a place called Down to the Tea Room where they ate several sandwiches before they realized that they had eaten them. Alice ate all the crusts and Zip what was inside., (A very unfair arrangement, Alice thought, because she didn't like crust either, but then, Zip was very old and his third teeth hadn't come yet, so he ought to be allowed some pleasure.) They were outside again, and suddenly a huge bell began to clang, clang in a loud sort of way. Before Alice had time to ask what it meant Zip had begun to clang, clang, too, and Alice felt much sorrier for him than she did for the bell. She decided that the Soap Bubble world was very tiresome, especially when you couldn't ask questions and get decent answers, so she hunted up her friend the March Hare and they went back and forth through the looking-glass forever after.

LA MORT D'UN COEUR Once, I could have loved, loved with all the fervor and madness of youth. Perhaps I did love. Irregular throbs destroyed the tranquility of my heart and restless longings stirred my soul.

Now, when I see two lovers oblivious of all except themselves I sneer. I smile disgustedly at their mutual vows 'tis momentary, futile sheer illusion. Alas! that I should think this,

I, who once could love.

-A.Femme.

ALL FOR LOVE (WITH

DUE APOLOGIES TO JOHN

DRYDEN)

Love, what joy you bring. What joy, without warning, Into pain, you turn. What hearts you grasp So firm That man is never free. Love, what tears you cause To flow And moisten cheeks so fair. What sorrow You surely bring. Love, what cruelty you know When Youth glides from us And dreams must cheer As blood grows cold.

-E.Emroch.

HOW I BECAME A MAID MAN By THE

BULL

(Illustrations

OF BASHAN

by Lloyd Caster)

Despite the fact that , until a short period ago, I have been able to maintain a fairly respectable reputation on the Richmond side of the lake, it is a well known fact on Tower Hill that my activities in that quarter have been the chief cause of the recent increased stringency of certain rules governing the Westhampton inmates. Now, however, I find all is changed. Five or six weeks ago-thanks largely to the scurrilous pen of one Mons. Jones-some inkling of my darksome machinations began to leak out on this campus. From that time forward, I have been covered with such invective, malediction, and execration that at last-finding the burden too great to bear-I herewith present a complete confession , in order that Richmond College may know the truth and, knowing the truth, judge my alleged waywardness less harshly. Mr. Loftus Walton, resident of Jeter Hall, reports that at about eleven-thirty on the evening of January 29th, while in the act of leaning out of his window to expectorate, he espied a lone figure emerge from behind the refectory and proceed down the road in the direction of the lake. Mr. ·walton avers that, although the said figure carried a garb<ige pail in its left hand, he at first found nothing remarkable in this, supposing it to be merely some hungry student preparing to indulge in a certain time-honored custom of this campus. However, as the apparition drew closer, Mr. Walton was astonished to note that, in addition to the aforementioned garbage pail, it bore a coil of rope and a stick of dynamite. Mr. Walton took matters into his own hands : he closed the window and retired posthaste. Mr. Donald Pierpont, residing at C-14 Thomas Hall, reports that on the evening of January 29th, about eleven-thirty-one o'clock, while stuffing his trousers into a broken window-pane preparatory to taking a bath ( it being Saturday night), he caught sight of a dark figure passing down the road in the direction of the lake. Mr. Pierpoint further reports that the figure carried: ( 1) a pail of garbage, (2) a coil of rope, (3) a stick of dynamite, and that the aforementioned figure deliberately broke the moorings of the alleged Kappa Sigma canoe and, embarking therein, put out to sea with his cargo of ( 1) a pail of garbage, (2) a coil of rope , ( 3) a stick of dynamite. That ominous figure , gentle reader, was none other than myself. I well remember the events of that fateful night and can affirm

THE

MESSENGER

that the reports of Messrs. Walton and Pierpont, allowing for reasonable variations, are, in all essentials, true. Having put out to sea, as reported by Mr. Pierpont, I paddled with lusty strokes in the direction of Tower Hill. There was no moon that night, but the cold and far-off glimmer of a myriad of stars was reflected in the dusky ripples that flashed beneath my swiftly moving blade. The pines on Tower Hill swayed majestically in the vigorous winter breezes as my canoe sped across the silent and quasiluminous waters of the lake. Meanwhile, over this scene of nocturnal grandeur and beauty floated the fetid odor of the contents of my garbage pail.

-::.=::=---==.~

~M;R..

Land! I leaped ashore and secured my canoe to a projecting root. The rope, the dynamite, and the garbage pail, I carefully hid among the bushes along the shore. Then, after having done what else was necessary, I proceeded in high spirits up Tower Hill under cover of the most absolute darkness. All was silent in the vestal regions. I was brought to a sudden halt by a stunning blow on the forehead. The sky had become overcast, and, in the intense blackness of the night, I had inadvertently collided with the north wing of Westhampton College. As soon as I had regained consciousness, I felt my way along the wall until I reached the arcade. Through - this I passed to the courtyard. At the entry to the stronghold of chastity, I paused. I was breathing rapidly, but, admonishing my heart in the most entreating terms to maintain a more regular pace, I at last threw open the portal and entered. Once inside, I discreetly removed my shoes and hid them inside the Blue Room piano. This done, I returned to the foot of the steps where, for fully half an hour, I paused, listening. All was silent, save the distant snoring of the slumber-wrapt Westhamptonites.

HOW

I BECAME

A MAID

MAN

"What?" said I to myself, "after all my fine plans and devices, am I thus to be defeated by lack of courage before my adventure is fairly begun? Nay, never!" And I boldly tip-toed up the marble staircase. At the landing, I stumbled over a soft body and fell full upon my face, damaging my nose considerably. When I was assured by the ensuing silence that I had not been heard, I sat up and, turning the feeble rays of my pocket flashlight on the aforementioned soft body, was astonished to recognize the sleeping man. "For," said I to myself, "why should Chief Flames be sleeping on the steps of the Westhampton dormitories?" Leaving this question unanswered, I quietly proceeded to my destination. The door was unlocked and I entered, closing it behind me. She was slumbering quietly. "She must be awakened," I said, thrusting a pin into her arm. I clapped my hand over her mouth. "Don't be afraid," I said, soothingly as possible, "I have come merely to avenge myself for the manner in which you were pleased to treat me last Monday evening. Y cu will recall, Miss X., that, at that time, you indignantly spurned my friendly advances. I have thought over this matter at considerable length and have at last come to the conclusion that you must be made to suffer as much as I have woman of suffered. You, being-as I am given to understand-a is over night some intelligence, will, no doubt, conceive before the that my conclusions are impeccably righteous and entirely just. Have no fear, Miss X." And I stuffed my hat into her mouth to serve as a gag. I essayed to pull her out of bed by the hair of her head, but Miss a boyish bob, so I was forced to content myself with dragging has X. her out by one foot. With the inert form of Miss X. under one arm, I quietly started down the steps, but alas! I had forgot that Chief Flames still slept on the landing. Again I stumbled and fell. I can scarcely recall what followed. I remember plucking up something warm and breathing and dashing barefoot out into the night. (The fact that I left my shoes in the Blue Room piano

THE

MESSENGER

may account for the amazing tones which said piano has recently revealed.) In the night air I regained my composure and, throwing the body over my right shoulder, proceeded down the hill in high spirits. I worked rapidly. After doing what was necessary, I lashed Miss X. securely in the bottom of my canoe with the coil of rope. This done, I attached six feet of fuse to my stick of dynamite and, placing the dynamite in the canoe with Miss X., lit the fuse. "Now, Miss X.," said I, "you perceive that to spurn the Bull of Bashan is no small matter. Your punishment will indeed be harsh , but, you must admit, no whit harsher than your deserts. This fuse will burn until one minute of nine in the morning, at which time, I fear , you will be considerably broken up." Then, as a final and particularly vicious insult, I dumped the pail of garbage on her quivering form. With my foot I pushed the canoe out to sea. My revenge was consummated! Mr. William E. Slaughter, of "The Tower," Thomas Hall, reports that early on the morning of January 30th, when he opened the door to get his morning paper, he was surprised to behold a muffied figure at the tower window gazing fascinatedly down at the lake. Mr. Slaughter further reports that at one minute to nine of the same morning he was aroused from his morning nap by a loud explosion. He rushed to the door and flung it open in time to see the muffied figure quietly descending the stairs. Some two weeks after the events narrated above, I went again to Tower Hill, this time at the prescribed hour and in the conventional manner. While waiting for Miss Y. to appear, I was amazed to see Miss X. enter from the direction of the dining-room. She noticed me at once. After favoring me with a long and chilling stare , she spoke. "Mr. Bashan ," said she , "I advise you to refrain in the future from indulging in practical jokes on this side of the lake." With that she was gone. Long I pondered this matter, but could make nothing whatever of it. Apparently all my carefully laid plans and devices were doomed to the most absolute failure. I inquired diligently on all sides for some information that might cast light on the matter. Only Mr. Trolan could help me at all. He admitted having seen the garbage strewn figure floating on the lake as he returned from Tower Hill early on the morning of January 30th. He insisted, furthermore, th at he was unable to recognize the occupant of the canoe. However,

HOW

I BECAME

A MAID

MAN

supposing it to be some one staging a Lancelot and Elaine, he paid no particular attention. I was kept in the most absolute darkness until Tuesday of last week when Mr. Gordon Price, of Deep Run, Virginia, informed me that Chief Flames had been ostracized from polite society. I at once put Operator 38 on the case. It is through the investigations of that justly famous detective that I am now able to offer the following information : On the evening of January 29th, Chief Flames announced to his assistants at the old engine house that it was his intention to attend a dance in town that evening. Engineer "Dan" Byrd reports that the chief, after spraying himself liberally with insecticide, set out in the direction of Tower Hill. Nothing more was seen of Chief Flames until three weeks later when he reappeared at the engine house in a somewhat dazed condition. Engineer Byrd reports that, at the time of his reappearance, Chief Flames was clad in rags, his right great toe was missing, and he smelled strongly of garbage.

"WHEN A MAN'S IN LOVE" One fills so with happiness he wishes to cry But laughs back the tears with a jubilant sigh And ponders and wonders the reason whyWhen he falls in love! The heart drops its burdens, its worries, its cares And romps light with joy, but aches unawares For caresses, expression-a kiss if it dares! When love enters in. Each dying leaf seems to fall with a smile As chill autumn winds the bare branches beguile Into merry sweet murmurs that sing soft the while That a man's in love. The din of existence, the moan and the hum Of Life's blind machinery, depressing to some Is music refreshing-the world 's just begun For the man who's in love! -Anne Opus.

SUPPER WITH THE SNOW Little crystal flakes of snow Falling downward, merrily Tumbling, tossing, as they blow To and fro, to earth below . Spreading a coverlet of white Laying it down so easily. Burnishing too the silver bright Of trees, and shrubs, with ice tonight. And as it falls from out the air It lays the table teasingly, At first the cloth, then silverware As though for supper, everywhere . And children to the windows go Gazing out so restlessly, Their little hearts a wishing so To have their supper with the snow.

-R. Ben Cheatham.

TO ONE FAR AWAY The bells of Saint James are ringing In the distance, far away. The sun 'neath their tower is sinking To its rest, with a golden ray. And dusk, o'er the world is creeping, Like a phantom groping its way . My heart with the chimes is singing In the evening, to you, today.

-R. Ben Cheatham.

THE MESSENGER RICHMOND W.

COLLEGE

SLAUGHTER,

}AMES H.

GoRDON,

Assistant Editor KINCHELOE, Exchange Editor

Editor-in-Chief Business Manager

S. SHOCKLEY,

WELLFORD TAYLOR,

REGINALD TATE,

LLOYD CASTER,

WESTHAMPTON JEAN

MAcCARTY,

GRAY ROBINSON, ELINOR PHYSIOC,

Assistant Editor

Asst. Bus. Mgr. Asst. Bus. 1lfgr.

Staff Artist

COLLEGE

Editor-in-Chief Business Manager MILDRED ANDERSON,

Asst. Bus. Mgr.

THE EDITORIAL PEN AROUND

THE CORNER

The old Alma Mater is not as it used to be, I muse as I leave the magnificent memorial Chapel Building. My talk was a failure. I think back over the effects of the little sermon I had just concluded. Just what was the significance of the turning heads and suggestive grins as again and again the little boys and girls had punched their neighbors? Perhaps my subject was too old-perhaps I myself was too old to be putting new ideas into their frivolous heads. Perhaps my surprise and embarrassment was too evident to them when I first observed the intermingling of sexes in the crowded auditorium . Oh, well, the young bloods are too much for me anyway these days. "Howd'ye do, gentlemen," I respond to the gay greeting. "Pardon me, please, I was deeply engaged in thought." And I limp along upon my trusty cane and wonder confusedly-now, were they gentlemen? That light and merry giggle certainly sounds as if at least one of them were a girl ! Many years ago it was, when I walked up this same gravel path. But in those days it wasn't gravel. I recall how soppy and treacherous this same path used to be after each rain. In those days I wondered why they used clay and limestone chat to build paths. Ah, yes, now they are improved. But what a shame to deprive these playful students of the fun we used to have wading through the mire on way to classes-the clothes we used to soil and the huge cleaners' bills, the throwing of mud balls ! . . . Those were the days !

THE

MESSENGER

I marvel at the changes that have taken place as I rove over the spacious campus . It has been so long since I left here. Let me see . . . nineteen twenty- . . . nineteen twenty-seven! That was the year. And now it is-but how familiar these girls and boys are! Look! Can it be . . . ? Yes, certainly the old institution now has co-education. Classes are letting out and all around me I see the two sexes mingling familiarly together, walking arm in arm or playing leap-frog upon the fresh spring grass. It is hard these days to differentiate between the two. But then, my eyes are weak, and I'm getting old. ·what is that crowd just ahead of me? And the music. Ah, I remember the rickety old building we used to call the Student Shop. Now they have this ! Timidly I bore my way through the merry chatter and enter the great gothic building. Yes, changes have certainly transformed the old place. Upon a little platform is an orchestra and many of the students are dancing together-the girls and boys are dancing together. I gasp for breath-has it come to this? Along the walls are neat marble-topped tables about which several are seated sipping sodas. Neatly dressed maids. . . . "Er--no, I don't care for anything, thank you. Just looking around. Used to be here in '27. Old grad, you know ... Yes. What! You're sixty! Sixty! Well, well, how you've changed. Didn't recognize you without the dirty apron. Ha ! Ha ! . . . What! Jack retired twenty years ago? Married a rich freshman? Fine! And you? . . . Eight children! No. ! . . . the girl from Williamsburg? . . . Well, old boy . . . " He is called away. I watch him return to his neat glass-enclosed office and pick up the telephone. What a handsome establishment he now has here ! I notice how the science buildings have aged, with ivy creeping over them. Handsome structures they were in my student days. All new and clean, until we seniors began breaking off pieces here and there for souvenirs. What a wrangle we had that year over a senior gift! Some wanted to build ends to the new car stop. Quite a hot discussion it was, too, until we finally decided to plant a group of fruit trees before the Refectory. Wonder if they're still there. . . . And I turn my steps in its direction. Ah , those good old days when we had co-ordination; when the girls, after receiving permission from home, were given passesgood for one trip only-to cross the bridge and traverse the boys'

THE

EDITORIAL

PEN

campus. How shy they were ! How their pretty little heads would fall and blush whenever a boy passed and gazed curiously at them. We were considered so ungentlemanly, coarse, because we would shout when returning to the campus late at night. It was said that these yells could be heard away over the lake and in the forbidden territory. But I dare say, many a gentle heart secretly swelled, many a pulse beat faster, and many a fair, soft body stirred slightly in its sleep and longed to be walking beside that rude student out there in the beautiful moonlight. Even though he was returning from a good date in town. But, then, those were in the old days of '27. Many a night I sneaked through the woods to meet in the secret darkness of the warm trees. . . . "For the second time, I ask you, what is the derivative of this equation?" Someone punches me in the side, and I awake with a start to find myself in the classroom. I flick a tear from my eyes, flush, and stare stupidly at the irate professor. The whole class is snickering.

The Student OF THE UNIVERSITY

OF RICHMOND

Will enjoy "browsing" in our store; there is no obligation to make a purchase; you are welcome here at all times. THE SOUTH'S LARGEST

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ALL THE STUDENTS OF THE UNIVERSITY OF RICHMOND Will Always

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• • • • 9 :30 A. M. 11 A. M. and 8:00 P. M. . ....... 7:00 P. M. •

•

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Crozer Theological Seminary Tuition and room rent free. Scholarships available to approved students. Seminary within 13 miles of Philadelphia. Metropolitan advantages. Seminary's relations to University of Pennsylvania warrant offer of the following courses : 1. Regular Cour1e1 for Preachen and Paaton. Seminary. Degree of B. D. or Diploma. 2. Training for Community Service. Seminary and University. Degrees of B. D. and A. M. 3. Training for Advanced Scbolanbip. Seminary and University. Degree of Th. M. at Seminary, or Ph. D. at University. For Information

Address

REV. MIL TON G. EVANS, LL D., President, Cheater, Pa.

The University of Virginia EDWIN THE TRAINING

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GROUND OF ALL THE PEOPLE

Departments represented: The College, Graduate Studies, Education, Engineering, Law, Medicine, The Summer Quarter, The Extension Division. Also Degree Courses in Fine Arts, Architecture, Business and Commerce. Tuition in Academic Departments free to Virginians. All expenses reduced to a minimum. Loan funds available for men and women. Address

THE REGISTRAR, University, Va.

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The Religious Herald Organ of Virginia Baptists Subscription price $2.50. It stands in the old paths, but does not stand still; it also walks therein. Ninety-six years young.

REAL FLOWER SERVICE When you order flowers from this good Flower Shop you get the utmost in service that modern facilities and careful attention to details can produce. Mail or telephone orders receive the same attention that you would get if you came personally to the store.

Ratcliffe & Tanner, Inc. S19 E. GRACE STREET "WE

GROW

Phone Mad. 6080-6081 THE

af!!d

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OC0iJt31'ES .-------M

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2 blocks south of Floyd Ave.

Boulevard 7680

ON THE WAY DOWN TOWN STOP AT

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made flavor and golden coior.

handle Kroog's (formerly Abrams')

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Cakes to give it that delicious home•

Demand the genuine of your dealer-if

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Cakes, phone us.

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The First Baptist Church Corner Broad and Twelfth Streets REV.

GEORGE

McDANIEL,

D ., PASTOR

CHURCH SERVICES: Preaching Sundays 11 :00 A. M. and 8 :00 P. M. Prayer Meeting Wednesday 8 :15 P. M. SUNDAY SCHOOL : Meets at 9 :30 A. M . Baraca, Westhampton and other organized Bible Classes. B. Y. P. U.'S: Meet at 7 :00 P. M. Sundays. Fellowship Union meets in Baraca Room; Fidelity meets in Sunday School Auditorium; Loyalty meets in Church Parlor. Service meets in Primary Room .

EasternBaptistTheologicalSeminary Centrally located in the city of Philadelphia, 1812-1814 South Rittenhouse Square. TUITION AND ROOM RENT FREE. Opportunities for self~help. Student Loan Fund available. Great libraries and museums in the city available to students.

High Educational Standards. Strong and Scholarly Faculty. Four Schools: THEOLOGY, including the courses of study usually offered in theological seminaries. MISSIONS. RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. RELIGIOUS MUSIC. Ten minutes from University of Pennsylvania. Session opens September 21, 1926. Write for new bulletin.

CHARLES T. BALL, President.

Medical College of Virginia State Supported Institution-Co-Educational

mm Medicine

Dentistry Nursing

Pharmacy

W. T. SANGER, Ph. D., President

+ ♦

♦

Well-equipped Laboratories under the direction of full-time teachers. The Memorial Hospital, Dooley Hospital, St. Philip Hospital, 424 beds, and large clinic for ambulant sick, owned and operated by the college, offer every facility for thorough Clinical Teaching in medicine and dentistry, for dispensing in pharmacy and practical experience in nursing. Additional Clinical Facilities are provided through other institutions of the City of Richmond. ~

REQUIREMENTS

FOR ADMISSION

School of Medicine: Two years of college work including Biology, Physics, Chemistry and English. School of Dentistry: One year of college work. School of Pharmacy: Four years of high school work. School of Nursing: Four years of high school work. ♦

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For Catalogues and Other Information ADDRESS

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Comfortable Convenient

Safe

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