PAGE TWO
THURSDAY, MAY 18, 1933
UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN, LAWRENCE, KANSAS
University Daily Kansan
Official Student Paper of THE UNIVERSITY OF KANSAS
Editor-in-Chief ... AL FRED A BRODBECH
...
Al, FRED Associate Editors
ASSISTANT EDITOR James Paterson Charles Stuart
**Managing Editor** ARNOLD KRETTZMANN
**Campus Editor** Dorothy Sims
**Cambridge Editor** Dorothy Sims
**Society Editor** Gretchen Org丹姆
**Sport Editor** Paul Woodmason
**Jane Editor** Jane Woodmason
**Exchange Editor** Carol Warden
**Albemali Editor** Howard Turtle
**Advertising Manager** MARY ANKER INCE
**Jack Alman**
Robert Whitman
Margaret Ineed
Bradley Krosnell
Sidney Kroen
Betty Millington
Lewis Lawrence
Ira McCullough
William Prunley
Arkold Kremmler
Douglas Smith
Joshua Smith
Virgil Parker
Telenhones
Business Office KU 61
Museum Office KU 62
Night Connection, Business Office. 7701 KU
Telephone Banking KU 84
Published in the afternoon, five times a week and on Sunday morning, by students in the Department of Journalism of the University of North Carolina from the Press of the Department of Journalism.
Subscription price, $4.00 per month, payable in
June.
Entered as second-class matter September 17
and returned as first-class on October 31.
WHAT IS AN EDUCATION?
THURSDAY, MAY 18, 1933
A formal proposal for investigation of reports that socialism, radicalism, and communism are being taught in some of the state colleges and universities was recently presented to the council of the state senate.
Since the beginning of the most crude forms of government the powers have worried over the things their children should learn.
More often than not, the decision has been that children should be taught only that which, in the opinion of the elders, was true and good. The most cursory glance at the history of the world points out that this methodology has done more to retard progress than any other one factor.
There is no reason for beating around the bush. We certainly are informed about the subjects that give our critics, as the collegians say, the willies. We learn of these things with the same detached spirit in which we consider the chemical action in a test tube.
If education means progress, if education promotes a finer world, if education leads to new ideas for improved living conditions, then we ask in all seriousness, can consideration of any subject be barred from the classroom?
The only method of study that gets anywhere is that method which takes every fact into consideration before arriving at a decision. The world has not suffered for learning the cause of typhoid fever. It is a very nasty subject, to be sure, but it has been studied and the world has been able to rid itself of the disease to a large extent.
We submit that an education should be a careful consideration of all facts that have been discovered thus far in the world's existence and not a learning by rote a single set of folkways.
In the study of government we should be able to consider all forms of government that have been tried and that are being tried. If our government is perfect, this sort of study will only serve to establish that fact.
The old type matching quiz might well be given the modern name of jigsaw—they're so much fun to put together.
Now that pienics and 'bonfires' are in order, have you ever louged about a campfire in the twilight and let your thoughts wander with the smoke?
UP IN SMOKE
There is the brownish-black smoke of the bright burning fire as it swirls heavenward or blows into your eyes. There is the blue-gray spitting smoke of the damp green wood. And there is the dove-colored smoke of the dying embers.
This, it is, that intrigues the imagination as it shames the bright colors of the sunset with its subdued and subtle tones. It works into pyramids or teepes, bringing the memory of Indian legends and tales of the frontier. It curls in scrolls and reminds us of the capitals of the Ionic columns and suggests chitons and tegas, beautiful ladies with
straight noses, and warring men.
Or, the smoke paints fantastic initials against the sky which have particular individual meanings for us. And before we fatigue ourselves with too much introspection and fugue, the coals crumble with a final spark, sink into the ashes, and we remember "date rule" is on.
FACING THE GUNS
It is only two weeks before fin als. Back notebooks and term papers loom larger every day. Banquets and last-minute meetings are necessary social affairs to which one must go. Attending to those long—and getting longer—daily lessons must be completely left out of the day's schedule. There isn't even time for one to get the needed eight hours of sleep any way.
With all these burdens upon him a student unsuspectingly goes to class and must face a "shot gun." The firing squad may be a horror of war, but just one "shot gun" is enough to panic hundreds of students in this time of campus chaos.
PATIENCE—THE LOST VIRTUE
Glory be to the man who can stand squarely on both feet and patiently wait fifteen minutes for something to happen!
The ordinary person has become so well adjusted to living at a terrific rate of speed, that it is extremely difficult for him to slow down the machinery and slow down the momentum of his life. When he is reduced to complete inactivity, his nerves become frayed and his disposition is shattered. He can't stand it. Things must happen, and happen rapidly
Faster and faster the ordinary person wants to live. He must jump out of one thing and immediately into another. Cars won't travel fast enough for him; street cars go too slowly and come too far apart. Meals are reduced to a single mad scramble. Books are scanned and reviews are read in their place. Entertainment, to be successful, must be packed with quick and flashy action. Speakers must convey their meaning speedily and guard cautiously against redundancy and verosity. Speed, speed! More and more speed! Ever and ever increasing speed!
In the midst of all this mad scramble, the person who has the poise and stability to maintain his equilibrium is superhuman. If he can sit down in the midst of all
BLAMING DEAD MEN
this hubbub and scurry and patiently wait as life rushes by, he is possessed of the seemingly lost virtue—patience.
People the world over have a tendency toward the art of passing the buck. Responsibility is allowed to slide in the easiest direction until it falls on hands that cannot retaliate. It probably comes from the fact that people are prone to take the easiest course.
They pass the buck in politics when things go wrong. Someone is made the goat in international affairs when the even tenor of things is broken. Quite often at a murder trial the murdered man is tried rather than the accused.
WHAT IS PROGRESS?
In the case of the ill-fated Akron which was wrecked some time ago, a committee was appointed to investigate the affair. Here again blame was placed on the shoulders of a dead man. The report said that an "error in judgment" on the part of Commander Frank C. McCord was a contributory cause of the loss of the airship. Few men were left to tell the story of the crash. Little of the wreckage has been found. Perhaps they just passed the buck to a place from which it cannot be returned.
We are told from our earliest moments, it is pounded into us from the cradle to the grave, that progress is the bulwark of the age and the creed of this country of
OFFICIAL UNIVERSITY BULLETIN
Notice due at Chancellor's office at 11 a.m. or regular afternoon publication days
and 11:30 a.m. Saturday for Sunday classes.
There will be a meeting of the ALEE, this evening. Officers for the next semester will be elected. RICHARD FOOR, Secretary.
Thursday, May 18, 1933
A. I. E. E.:
If universities can aid in preventing this deplorable stagnation that has set in on the will of the people, a greater democracy will arise. For with it will not only evolve a more perfect form of government but the inward development of the individual will be the lasting benefit - California Daily Bruin.
The regular monthly meeting of the A. S. C. E. will be held this evening at 7:30 in room 210 Marvin hall. Professor Brudshaw will give a talk on the Cascade Tunnel. Everyone is invited.
EDWIN A. ELLIOTT, Secretary.
A. S. C. E.:
Students of social science are the ones confronted with the feeling of hopelessness or inadequacy in regard to prevalent theories. It would seem that the present is a time for practical executives to steer the path of the world to sound stability. But Lippman, while recognizing this imminent need, does not hesitate to insist that students will transcend the permanent stability of thinking that must guide the future.
IN DEFENCE OF THE STUDENTS
BAPTIST YOUNG PEOPLE:
Transient opinion is the great obstacle to application of theoretical remedies, says Lippman. Because it is fundamental in affecting the situation today, he whole-heartedly supports the willful detachment of the student in order that the future will not be fettered by ignorant attitudes.
BHP Billiton University and B.Y.P.U. will hold a combined steak fry Sunday at 4 o'clock. All wishing to attend please call Harold Wampler at 3088. Bring three pickles. Transportation furnished.
FERN HARRIS, President of University Class
BEACON CITY WORKERS:
All students who are working to secure Beacon City memberships or who have worker's kits please see me at room 10 Memorial Union building, at onee.
CHEMICAL ENGINEERS:
CHEMICAL ENGINEERING The last regular meeting of the Kansas Association of Chemical Engineers will be held in room 101 Chemistry building at 7:30 this evening. Professor Brewster will talk on "Dyes." Refreshements will be served.
The annual banquet for the initiation of the officers of the Kayhawk club will be held this evening, at 6:15 in the private dining room of the cafeteria. Prof. W. W. Davia, of the department of history, will speak. All non-fragrant辈 are invited.
ALBERT COOK, Secretary
KAYHAWK CLUB:
All organizations expecting to have dates in the K-Book calendar for next year must send these to the Y.M.C.A. room, 10 Memorial Union building, in care of the editor, by Thursday, May 25, at 3:30 p.m. Please co-operate.
MARGARET MILLOUT, Editor
K-BOOK:
KEITH W. JOHNSON, PAUL WILBERT, Co-chairmen.
Our Contemporaries
K U. SELF-SUPPORTING STUDENT ASSOCIATION:
I DEFEND. For most students who wonder why they are spending their time advantageously when world problems defy solution by the theories learned in college. Walter Lippman explains their place as he describes "The Scholar in a Troubled World," which appeared in a recent issue of Atlantic Monthly.
SELF-SUPPORTING MEN AND WOMEN STUDENTS:
All self-supporting men and women students interested in learning more about the association now forming are invited to attend a meeting to be held in the Men's lounge of the Memorial Union build this evening at 7 o'clock. After a short business meeting and election of officers, refreshments will be served. Come and get acquainted with others of this group. You are free to come and go when you please. L. WRAY CHOATE, Acting Chairman.
UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO ALUMNI:
Members of the K. U. Self-Supporting Student association are invited to come and bring a friend to a meeting Thursday evening at 7 o'clock in the men's lounge of the Memorial Union. After adoption of proposed constitution and election of officers, refreshments will be served. You are free to come and go when you please.
L. WRAY CHOATE, Acting Chairman.
ours for which many of our brave ancestors gave their lives.
Any graduate of the University of Chicago planning to attend, or interested in attending, the Third Annual Alumni conferences, to be held in Chicago June 9 to 10. please communicate with me. DOMENICO GAGLIARDO.
The answer is that we must create a new attitude of mind toward every condition and problem we are called upon to face. We must face them dispassionately and intelligently.
Economically we have built up a super structure, one slightly weak in the knees at the moment but never-the-less a super structure. We have built machines that do the work of many men. But still, is real human progress being made? We are inclined to agree with an Englishman who says that all human progress has been a "muddling through." An arresting example of this was the slaying and maiming of 15 million of our young men, the incalculable loss and the continued disorder and bewilderment that have resulted from the World War. And yet men seem blindly driven to defend and perpetuate the conditions which produced that great disaster.
The Fable of Mr.
Eatmore's Diet
By GEORGE ADE
$\textcircled{6}$. Bell Syndicate.—WNU Service.
ONCE there was a Respected Citizen named George Eatmore who should have taken off his Hat to his Tummy.
off his hat to the "Unanny.
For the humble per-shape Organ
was been through unny a War. The
Fact it was not worn out, but
was still trying to stay on the Job,
proves that Nature is more wonderful
than Art; when it comes to all-round
toughness the Rhinoceros runs second
to Man.
Before the stomach finally went on strike it earned many a Service Stripe. Through years of grooming and guzzling it was a True Pai of George, always right there when needed and under the most trying circumstances.
And yet, for several Decades, Mr. Eutmore never referred to his faithful Gizzard except in Language of Complaint. And he would not have dreamed of introducing his Stomach as a Topic of Conversation. Yet the old-fashioned Belief that the Allimentary Canal is entirely a private Affair.
It would be impossible to produce a Novel, Play or Movie without featuring the Heart. The Cardiac Mechanism is put in the Center of the Stage and flooded with Spot-Lights while the hard-working and relatable stomach, situated only about Eight Inches to the Southwest, is permitted to toll at the most mental tasks in schools with novel a word of Sympathy or Encouragement. The prides say that One who becomes too specific regarding the old Food-Trap is immodest and guilty of a Social Error.
The Lungs often receive Honorable Mention and many a Vernormil Appendix, with little to be said for it in the Lungs. But they are in a Bottle and shown to Culters, but the Stomach has been and continues to be, as you might say, the Step-Child of the Human Organism, the mostORDULABPs and hosts most of the Blame.
For instance, take the Case of George Eatmore. Even while he was very young and on the Milk, he would often ask his Digestive Apparatus to take on such Odds and Ends as Buttons, Pins, small pieces of Coal, Cailing Cards and Lint. Soon after he was weaned he put into a Receptacle, a Mapplets Assortment, Receptacle apples, Mapplets, Raw Turnips, Molasses Candy, Strawberry Pop and all of the dye-stuff Berries and oleaginal Nuts growing in the Wildwood.
Did the Craw rebel when it was bombarded at all hours? On the Contrary, it stood up and never was devoid of Dug. Each kid went to George and say, "Woll my Heart, what's the Program for Today?"
College Lade Learned Something. It was while George was in High
School that he got quite a Giggle one day from reading in his Physiology that the Stomach of Man contains three pints, and eaten as many as two Watermelons at a Sitting and anyone who says that two Watermelons are not more than three pints has never studied Rotany. And now you know little the Anthropology really knew.
After George entered College he and the Receiving Station took many a hard Trip together. All this happened when Keg Farties were considered Polite Functions and a string of Weenies smothered with Mustard was called a cider. And who also instituted of Learning really learned something.
Between the catch as-catch can Beanery, which specialized on dried Prunes which had been outer-cased by the Goodyear Company, and those Jolly Midnight Pick-ups constituting largely of Limbinger and Rye Breed, it is not clear whether these materials have been supplied with several Stomnobs the same as a Cow.
Once in a while the hard-worked Pouch would try to suggest to George that it was not a Waste-Basket, but he seemed to think that the Proper time to eat was between meals. Whenever there was a complaint he would ignore it and urge the patient Slave to keep on working overtime.
About the Time that he got a foot-bed he married a very sweet little Apricotina who had been taking Music Lessons and cooked accordingly. Her mother was a Holes with one of her Soda Biscuits. It was truly sold of her that she could not bolt Water without giving it a bite. She had the Lining out of Toost's "Good-Bye."
We now discover Our Hero as a struggling Law Student, trying to live on Nothing per Week. It was during these Lean Days, after Dad had discontinued the sending of Checks, that he started making sure not as Vitamin B. He frequented the old-style Lunch Counter and subsisted on so-called Food which was turned out by Foundries instead of being cooked. When he hoisted a Cup of Coffee which had been twenty-four hours at the Urn, it is little Wonder how much the lunch drew up at him in Surprise and emit a growl of Protest.
For a long time they couldn't afford a Swede and it was during this Period, when the Little Woman was trying to turn out Angel Food which could be cut with a Knife instead of a Pair of Strippers, that Mr. Eutstein and his company called Carnegie Medals for Heroism. You say that Anbey can make Tea. Even a man. Well, Swede could do something to it which made it taste like Sheep-Dip. And not the best Quality of Sheep-Dip at that.
Every Known Variety of Chow.
Every Known Variety of Chow.
At last the Sun of Prosperity began to shine on the Etmators and they had a lot of apples, oranges and only Two at one Time, but they had a lot in the course of a Year. The colored Mummies would prepare everything Southern Style, while the Transients imported from Iceland frowned Corned Beef burger in a Cabbage dish. Germany to avoid Military Service put Caraway Seed in every Vand and then laid a Dill Pickle on top of it. Just when the Gullet melted it had transported every known variety of Chow, along come a Bison or a Turkey with Apples chopped up in or Tripe with Olives stuffed with Torpedoes, or Hungarian Goulash, or Chicken Livers wearing Festons of Garlic, or Gutta Percha Pudding dashed with Shellace, or the set of Lobster Tails, or the Lubricant which you see advertised at every Filling Station.
When a good Doctor goes over a man he always listens to the Heart. Sooner or later Science will devise a way to stop him from eating to the Stomach and in that Event the Specialists will get many an Earful. For instance, the Stomach which accompanied Mr. Eatmore could have opened a large Volume on "Unexpected Ghosts."
Not until George became a Prominent Citizen and began to attend Formal Dinners did he put his Digestion to the Supreme Test, and start in to lean heavily on Bi-Carbonate of Soda. We are referring to the Age of Science when we found an Exhibit of Glassware in front of his plate and was supposed to fly at every kind of red, white and blue Fluid during the prolonged Battle with the heavy Courses. A real Dinner, in the old days of cheap Liquor and the deadly Tost List, made me look like Café Snack. The boys had to get into a State of Coma in order to put up with the Speeches.
When Mr. Eatmore took his Stomach away with him after one of those three-hour Feeds he didn't have to be stunned by the amount he would throw it a little Pepsin and tell it to behave. During all his years of Alimentary Acrobatics, George never took any blame on himself. He was always careful and feel that he was the Injured Party.
Late this Season Mr. Eatmore was entertained a great deal by Friends who had Pre-War Stuff. It was made before the War between Hoover and the Senate. At the Hospital he told the Nurses and Everybody that it was up to the Senate to unify to speak up and say "I won into the Rise once too often."
As some of his old-time Associates were driving back from the Cemetery they removed the Black Gloves and said they couldn't understand why George had to check in at the Early Age of 62, because the Old Scout certainly had taken the Best of Care of himself at all Times.
MORAL: One may listen to a Radio Station 5.000 Miles away.
Holiday Manners
B- JANE OSBORN
6. by McClure Newspaper Syndicate.
WNU Service
Then came a Wednesday afternoon before a holiday. By taking a six o'clock train south he could make a connection with another train that, sometimes around dawn the next day, would bring him to the out-of-the-way village nesting among southern hills by night. When he called home, it he missed that six o'clock train he couldn't hope to get home for the holiday dinner.
TOM MASON had worked and pre-
pered in the big city for seven years. He considered himself as much a father to his children and was thoroughly accustomed save in one respect. He couldn't endure to travel in the subway because, in order to get into the trains at all during rush hour, he would have to walk up the stairs of girls and women. Rather than yield a single point of his code of civility, he had stood one night for a half hour gallantly stepping back for every womanness crowding near him to board a train.
Finally he had hurried away in disgust and had traveled an hour by surface car to his destination. For years now he had加小 a small bachelor's apartment within easy walking distance, but when he married, he consolled himself that at least he didn't have to use the subway. Men who married apparently found more spacious apartments uptown or in Brooklyn or joined the army of committees to New Jersey or Long Island at closing time were just as bad.
Tom was delayed on important business in his office, took a taxi for the five blocks to his Washington square apartment to get his suitcase and found that the only way he could hope to catch his train from the Grand Central station was via the hated station. And even then there would be little time to score.
Crowds, hordes of people, were pouring into the subway station. With a firm grip on his suitcase, Tom forged forward with the horse. A girl headed for the gates seemed to stand between her and Tom, who was rudely forced by her—so rudely that as he did so he heard a little gasp and a surprised "Of all things!" There was something in the mouth of the horse; the formation of a drawl—that set his conscience pricking. It was as if his own mother had gently reproached him. Tom looked back, saw the girl clearly and saw that at another entrance of the train she was bravely trying to gain custody. She, too, carried a suitcase.
The satisfaction of having caught the train was marred by Tom's continued self-reproof. Then, looking up as a porter escorted a passenger to the section just opposite his, he saw a face that was familiar and heard a voice "no, you're not" to the porter, that it seemed to him he had heard a hundred times before.
For just a minute Tom racked his brain and then he knew it was the girl he had jostled in the subway. Tom knew that she recognized him. Now at least she could see that he had to catch a train, but then so had she and he had very nearly prevented her from doing so.
"I don't believe you recognized me," she said, catching up to him in the vestibule of the train on the way to the diner. "You're Tom Mason and I'm Caroline Summer. I used to spend my summers in Hastings when I was a little girl and you used to be home in Boston. I always lived in your car, I was only about ten and I don't believe I'd ever had such a good time."
So Tom asked for the privilege of taking Caroline to dinner—an invitation which she accepted. Caroline was working in the city—just for a lark—and now she was going back for a four days' holiday to join her family. She had been a teacher, but it was the place in all the world that seemed most like home to her.
"Id know you were from Hastings anywhere I met you," she said, with a mixture of skyness and temerity that Tom found delightful. "Do you know, while I was hurrying to catch this train a man almost knocked me down, and he never stopped to beg my parson—met runoff on me." Imagine imagining a little thing like that, could you?
"People from that part of the country," she explained to Tom, "always seem so much more considerate and caring than the people you meet in the cities."
Tom told Caroline how delighted he was that they might go on their journey together and made her promise that she would do *n* bit of exploring around the mountain slopes near cliffs with him during their excursion.
"Did you have a chance to see what he looked like?" asked Tom engerly. "No, I was too much confused trying not to lose my balance. Why?'"
"Because a man that treats a lady like that deserves a reproof. I count it a privilege if I might give it to him for you. Personally, I seldom use the subways. When I marry I suppose I help her and take care of Brooklyn unless they uncommit—"
"I'd much prefer one of the reclaimed old residential sections downtown," said Caroline. And because of that remark Tom he had almost never about time he had almost knocked her over in the subway.
LOST:
A Kansan Want Ad will bring it back.