The west Nationa iew of the Frida the d walk room the mear able cities the pys system ball school 1. It w the p the coe dividi dent educa ment, the coe establi demic upon i nati ative inati secur 2. Har Men's satisfie the coe simila year. Be li tatives of respe 1. T ball g 50 ce school w vouch 2. T ing resent ment vouch 3. T i is the stu among Be J regio Studen prisinir Missio and N 1. T condit sitiv tural 3. A amo tude stres ual exa. mean 4. O op sary of hone 5. be c den mu nition stu cat and any edu stu 6. ing nau stucat in du diei inve w it VOL N. PAGE TWO THURSDAY. APRIL 6, 1933 UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN, LAWRENCE, KANSAS Res University Daily Kansan Official Student Paper of THE UNIVERSITY OF KANSAS Editor-in-Chief AL FREDA HRODBECE **Associate Editor** Chilien Coleman Adrian Kordemann **Manage Editor** Arnold KORDEMANN Makeup Editor Downey Smith Makeup Artist Jane Patterson Night Edit Jennifer Patterson Telegraph Editor Margaret Groves Telegraph Editor Margaret Groves Alameda Telegraph Jonathan Jenkins Alameda Telegraph Jonathan Jenkins Sunday Edit Margaret Bentmann **Advertising Manager** MARGARET INCOPE Advertising Manager MARGARET INCOPE Robert Whitman.com Margaret Icoe.com Sidney Kline.com Siddharth Kivora.com Jett Millstone.com Marcia Lawrence.com Frank Meadows.com Arnold Kretmann.com Jimothy South.com Telephones Business Office K.U. 6 News Room K.U. 2 Night Connection, Business Office .2701 K.U. Night Connection, News Room .2702 K.U. Published in the afternoon, five times a week and on Sunday morning, by students in the Department of Journalism of the University of Kansas, from the Press of the Department of THURSDAY, APRIL 6, 1933 Subscriptions price, 44.00 per year, payable in advance. Single course, each. Entered as second-class matter September 17, 1910, at the office at Lawrence, Kansas. AFTER THE SHOUTING, WHAT? By the time today's Kansan is off the press, this year's campaign will be nearly over. The polls will be almost ready to close and only the most tardy voters will still be casting their ballots. Everything to put the matter bromidically, will be over but the shouting. But after the celebration, what? Whichever faction wins, it will go into office with a big job ahead of it. It will have campaign promises to fulfill, administrative problems to meet; it will have to do serious thinking about the problems of the University, reach decisions, and put them into action. The campaign usually is considered chiefly as a game of politics and is not taken too seriously. The real job comes later and must be accepted with a high sense of responsibility. Student interest in student government more or less dies down after the election, but the enthusiasm of the Council must not be allowed to lag. A keen desire to further the student cause on the Hill and to advance the University should be a drive to spur on student leaders. $ ^{1} $HAPPY NEW BEER As Ben Bernie, the "old ma- tro," would say, "Happy New Beer." Perhaps such an expression will greet the return of suds in your eye tonight. Whatever the popular expression is, you may rest assured there will be numerous others to contend for the honor when bulging eyes watch a glass of three and two tents per cent foam come sliding down the counter. When the Easter bunny (it's really your dad with whiskers, you know) comes lippity-lippying over Slopes to爬坡 the egg poor unfortunate that cannot go home for the vacation, it may have to do glazes and lip some more through the foam and suds in Kansas City and other points wet to deliver the painted up hen fruit. Probably tomato juice would be more irate with the occasion, but the rabbit will be unacustomed as ye to the new regime. THE NEW VACATION PLAN The new vacation schedule which was presented to the University Senate yesterday by the Senate advisory committee appears to have many good points. While it is to be expected that many will object to the dropping of the extra half holiday "if we beat Mizzon," and Hobo day, there is one question that comes to our mind. What of the students whose homes are so far away that it takes two or three days to get there? The new plan removes their one good chance, in the Chrisamas vacation, of seeing the home folks for very long; it does not provide for any chance in the Easter period. If these students can be consoled for their loss, the new plan is a good one. The Christmas holiday has had its disadvantages in that the students lose the "stream of concentration" during the two weeks of loafing, and find it difficult to pick up the reins again. A week is usually long enough for anyone to do all of those little things at home without getting the jitters. The Easter vacation will be heartily accepted by everyone because it will provide a breathing spell in the long home stretch when spring gets into our blood. Very few students make any use of Washington's birthday other than sleeping late and going to the movies. We seem to have forgotten the significance of the day, and it no longer means very much to us. In leaving the Thanksgiving holiday as it is, the committee did a wise thing. The proposal of the Men's Student Council recommended the one-day period for this vacation, but most of the students would probably be A.W.O. L. on Friday morning with such an plan. We only wish that the new plan vere to go into effect at once we could chase that Easter bunny or a whole week. A SUGGESTION Interest in the Men's Student Council election having been somewhat anemic on the part of students, we come forward with a suggestion calculated to pep things up a bit. Force each student to name his party preference and after the campaign, if he was on the losing side, compel him to join a paper-picking squad to rid the campus of the political handbills blowing about. That would certainly result in more effort to win the election and would give a more active tone to the whole campaign. Or a still better plan might be to make the editors of the two publications responsible for cleaning up the litter. Our guess would be that such a regulation would result in tense and to-the-point political bulletins. THE PRESS IS POWERLESS Newspapers should be the self-chosen guardians of public morality. They should clean up communities; they should uncover and eliminate vice and corruption. They should be the leaders of the people, encouraging law and order, working for civic improvement, education and public health. There are noble causes, but unfortunately newspapers are frequently blocked in their efforts to improve conditions in a community. The very people a newspaper is trying to aid become their worst enemies. For instance, in a political campaign, a newspaper may attempt to attack a man of doubtful ability or principles. What is the reaction of the public? It lines up with the man against this "great publicity machine" which is trying to protect them. What is this quirk in human nature that makes man bite the hand that feeds him, that leaves him without enough sense to come in out of the rain, and that makes it so much fun to get something on the newspapers? William Allen White has phrased it rather aptly when he says, "In every civilization there is a moronic underworld which cannot be civilized. It can be taught to read and write but not to think, and it lives upon the level of its emotions and prejudices." Since the day when President Roosevelt used four pens to legalize 3.2 per cent beer, every state and many cities have passed their own laws regulating beer after April 7. THE PROHIBITION MIX-UP North Carolina says beer will not be legal there until after May 1. Wenatchee, Wash., has passed an ordinance permitting saloons, but music, vocal or instrumental, is aboo in such places. The District of Columbia will not prohibit the sale of 3.2 per cent beverages. The Canada ban against exports to the United States of beverages not more than 3.2 per cent alcohol in weight will be lifted tomorrow. In an attempt to keep Kansas "drive" Attorney General Reuter In an attempt to keep Kansas "dry" Attorney General Boynton The regular meeting of the Kansas Association of Chemical Engineers will be held at 7:20 this evening in room 101 Chemistry building. Dean Wervil will speak. Vol. XXX CHEMICAL ENGINEERS: Notices due at Chancellor's Office at 11 a.m. on regular afternoon publication days and 11:30 a.m. on Saturday for Sunday issues. OFFICIAL UNIVERSITY BULLETIN Thursday. April 6, 1933 LINDLEY DeATLEY, Secretary. Recently governmental bodies have made strenuous efforts to balance their budgets by reduction of expenditures and by seeking new sources of income. However, they are not addressing this same problem, or if they have not faced the problem they will soon have. With this thought in mind and with the possibilities of eliminating some of the charges of graft and undemocratic student government, it is suggested that government should be that privilege of attending variety classes and class parties without charge. Editor Daily Kawashi 1:17 This seems to be the time for ambiguous plans and promises on the part of various political parties, and it may be asking too much of the council to consider a very simple change entirely within the range of their blowers. The members of the councils are no doubt just as able as the rest of the students to pay their share of the cost of such entertainment. The following figures show to those interested the number of passes held in the period between September of 1932, up to and including April of 1933. For the 14 parties held during that time, a total of 425 passes were issued to council members, the largest numbers being issued for the parties at which the admission charge was greatest. Passes, had they been paid admission, will have amounted to $399.08 in all. COLLEGE FRESHMEN AND SOPHOMORESS All College freshmen and sophomores are expected to see their advisors on Wednesday, Thursday or Friday regarding their mid-semester grades. Names and office hours of the advisers are posted on the bulletin board at 121 Administration building. PAUL B. LAWSON, Associate Dean. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, but just the same—and an important thing nowadays—it makes "jack"-Texas State Lass-O. reminds the people of the state that buying and selling beer in Kansas will result in a $1,000 fine or six months in jail. Perhaps Mother Nature objects to the return of beer. Maybe she doesn't approve of Hill politics, or it might be that she's just being contrary to annoy your editor. Most of us would enjoy seeing General Prosperity return and kick Miss Depression clear out of the picture.—McPherson Republican. Some folks might get ahead faster if they would replace horse sense with a little fliver sense—Indiana Daily Student. QUIPS from other QUILLS Georgia boy, seven, rode a pony to Washington to attend the inauguration. Others rode their high hopes of getting a job—Wichita Eagle. There will be a meeting of all MacDowell members this evening at 8 o'clock in the central Administration auditorium. Professor Cretton will speak. What has peeved Mother Nature? How can your editor write those entertaining little paragraphs on spring if the weather keeps on behaving as it has done in the past week. Rain, wind, cloudy skies and chilly air do not offer the right sort of inspiration for a discourse on spring fever. Why all this dissimilarity? Do these United States think they can handle the beer problem individually and be successful? There is no system in the making of a law permitting 3.2 per cent and giving each state so much leeway. It is a national problem and should be treated nationally. SOMETHING'S WRONG MACDOWELL: One must remember that possibly not all of these would have attended if they had been forced to pay, but the figures seem significant. While no exact number of past council members present and past council members, probably over half of them were present council members. Consequently, a measure exclusive only past members as well as selfish as the present or council members as is the present rangement. -ELM. Campus Opinion MARY BUTCHER, President. McPherson Republican. BELOW ZERO A Romance of the North Woods HAROLD TITUS Copyright, 1932. WINN Services Copies of the first chapters of the story may be had upon application at the Kanman Business Office. SYNOPSIS CHAPTER I — "Ton" Belakman, tumbler operator, ordered by his physician, to travel a three months' trip abroad. Promises of advancement he has made to his team are broken, for no apparent reason, **CHAPTER II—At Sneezing Stucco** Bob derved to leave at ten. He refuses, but he complains that he has been rushed to reface it is a case of mistaken identification. Bob will be out to wreck the Richard Hammond building, he辞职 employment with that firm, bullying a young girl, and throws him in the water. The girl is Ellen Richards, owner of a local business, Johns name as John Sneezing. The缸 runs being dropped unfortunately in his father, Killen to believe that he Now when a young man, wholly mad, is out to show what he can do, and who has had an opportunity of displaying his capacities dangled before his eyes totalizingly for a day that he will be in the hound to go fast, once started. CHAPTER III Ellen Richard's new boss went like the wind, like fire, like a wild horse; by day he drove his crews; by night he drove his trucks and hid plans for further driving. The winter's operation had been confined to a long, narrow rainy into which, because of the contour of the country, steel could not be laid at the bottom. The worker would hang on the bottom of this sharp desperation to its lower end and thence up a hill, where a tow-team worked every hour getting beds to the top. From there the sleigh doubled back on the high ground before coming to part of the haul to reach the landing. Over three miles, it was, and at one point the steel came within forty rods of the rim of the raven. "We should be dumping right there!" John exclaimed to Saunders when he saw the place. "Yeah. But we don't haul by airplane yet!" the foreman grew. John said no more but his mind was busy. In the mill-yard was an old steam boiler, long discarded. It was a steam heater, it was built in it was in the woods; men were building a road through the deepening snow straight up the side of that pot-hole where they would be stepping the merer was set down, skipped to the brink of the steep pitch and a cable bent to the drum. Teams left off the long road, leaving their sleighs down the pitch to the skidways, brought them, loaded to the foot of the incline, unhooked and came up ahead while the power of the engine engine snaked the loads to the top. The tow team was liberated for the hair; each sleigh was able to move an extra thousand a day; costs were out. The team went to the new landing increased; lot production was stepped up; a fundamental shortcoming was being overcome, and as he stood on the third afternoon following his arrival in his new plan, John mottled灰度. see what I'm wound on. Tom! See what I'm wounded on, yet? Yes, the Richards operation had new life, new vigor as long as John had his fingers on each phase, but a man can craft a day's work only once each day has only its piloted hours. He had had the train crew with him from the beginning and did not need help. He was not ready to what equipment he had there. Tucker, the roadmaster, was spry enough, eager enough, it seemed, but there were no buttons. He could not wholly trust the man. Nothing he could put his finger on; no button could point out. Just intuitive distrust. He won Jack Tait, the burn boss, a stalwart friend by sitting up through one bitter night to help min- ister Helen Clark and Ms. Barron, but its distress had not been John's primary motive in going without sleep. He needed the stunner support of his boss, John Aitken, and loyalty of those at his command. No business will succeed unless al- lival slaves are behind the management of an army is its non-coms. But the uphill pull commenced to be too hard. He returned three thousand to day, John must put to the cross, band-saw fed. He began to do better than this; by holiday time the reserve was empty. "I refused," a two-day cut was there, waiting for an emergency a three, enough Not time, yet, for a long breath, but time to let yourself hope . . . a trifle. " . . . show you what I’m wound on; he grew between set teeth as watched a long roar on to the deck instead of directly into the hot-pot. Three days later, running for one of the stiff grades with four bogs of logs in hand, I looked back and looked back to see a car leave the rails, to see the splintered ends of tics pop up through the snow, to see the roses and go over before he could stop. Not time, ret, for a long break, though. The night watchman at the gate rounds out and rounds an unidentified skulker had run out of the locomotive stall. A wrench was found, dropped in the doorway, and locked up. Tinsel Tinsel's old relic, their only home. Wrecking tools were in Shoestring, and it was necessary to make the run in for jacks and replacers. They got the car back on and the track trailed, but a day was lost and the margin of growing. The milt shrink instead of growing. "What do you make of that?" Way-Bill and Tiny came to John. "A brake-boom on that car'd been monkeyed with," the conductor said. "the fresh wrench marks on the nuts." "They know were don't too well, Fixed to spill us to make trouble. They care a d-n about getting their logs moved!" The Kampfert's kimpet and, if it was keep on the main line at the crossing, more dirt work!" John called Tucker into the conference, but the roadmaster smiled and shook his head doubtfully. "Fairy story!" he said. "You couldn't tell within two weeks when that beam'd been requaled." Way-Bill spat and big Tiny eyed Tucker with a look that was not just pleasant. John wondered, feeling a sense of wonder, wracking equipment in the way-car. And now Gorbel's men commenced damming at two handrails which meant the start of a long string of empties daily, more minutes taken from the time of Eilen's train crash in 1893, and many through. John knew that; he read the old contract by which Richards signed it. Ellen talked to him in detail of the company finances to point out the necessity of going even faster. Cars of air-dried lumber rolled out of Shoostring; plies of green lumber grew. New loans, with lumber as security, are required in Albany to care for the car at the Kumpelt bank. "But were only one jump ahead of disaster!" she said. "These Milwan-ko bankers have been no decept with their advice, as long as when their good nature will give out. If we should shut down it would bring them up here in a hurry. If we can They had not got abreast of the situation again as yet. A four-day tie up would leave the mill hungry. "Luck is in us." Ellen said that night. "We've had no blizzards since you came. You seem to be able to cope with the storms, but you can't beat bad weather." "Cross your fingers," he said grimly. Right he was. The next afternoon he stood outside the temperature, which had been moderate for days, dropped suddenly. A woman came in and wilted, towards dusk, to a morning breesthe which carried fine, stinging threads. Tiny Temple brought the train in an hour late, locomotive plastered with snow, festooned with icicles, and on a steep hill down all day, was there to meet him. "Get your suppers," he told the crew. "She's going to be a buster! We'll run the plow tonight." "That's the way to lick it!" a brakeman said. Two hours for food for the men and coal and water for the engine and couple to the wing plow that stood on its siding. Men were there, a dozen of them, armed with shovels, in the way out, waiting to give battle. pace a moment longer and then came to a stop. Tucker and John and two section men were in the plow; the first brace to ride in the lookout and watch a horse steer. The wheel which maniulated the wires. "Ready, there? . . . Open your wings!" he called, and the men below bent on the wheel, turning it to force the pedal. The rover, the dislaced snow far for other sides. They were nearing the first bad point, and John leaned forward to see better. An immense, up-ending catarame came over the front of the plow, shuttling off their view completely. John felt their speed diminish as though velvet-faced brakehouses had gripped the wheels and Tucker bawled; A man at the wheel kicked the trip; the wings were squeezed back against the sides of the plow; they hold their John's snow fences had functioned and some of the cuts were easy to make, but none were which caught and held the snow to windward, in other places the goats had been able to access the shelowers were out, tossing aside and waiting to shovel the plow free. At five in the morning they gained the mainline crossing. Atop the ridge as it was the snow had mostly shown through, but as it melted they approached the last ridge. "Bring 'on in' it," he called, and then pointed to the point. It was the one place on the line where caution must be used with the wings: the one standard located there and to pass it with wings extended might mean derailment. John had arranged for breakfast at the crossing tender's house by telephone before they left town, and as soon as he arrived food he grinned. The battle wasn't over yet, but he had held his breath until Tom's ruthlessness; he was wrestling an even break from the weather. . . . He would not have been so easy to win, because Tom's fierce glory in the conflict with snow had he known that late yesterday afternoon, in the shadow of a car of steel, while the man talked, slowly at first, as one feeling his way, rapidly later, as one who has achieved his And now on into camp; hours of battle through the barren choppings in the sea. They must tinker for half an hour with his engine; men must rest. Shadow horses could be taken on at camp, and engineer crew could not be replaced. As day waked the wind dropped and snow thinned. The temperature fell, too, but the back of the storm was broken. All that remained now was a road from the crossing on into Shoestring, seven miles and all down grade. John opened the plow door, waiting for that stop. The winters were spread and he could hear the fluff of snow they shoved out to either side. Up above, alone now, Tucker grasped the hand tightly and braced his left arm against his neck, spoke to his mate and looked upward, a bit palpled. That standard switch. From the engine came a muffled foot. Brakes set sharply. They slowed, but it was too late. From the right, a thud and a rasping rattle as the wing caught the switch-stand, trapping it from its anchorage. A loot and a clank from the wheels. The wires near the trucks not the point and the wheels drowned on the tires . . . The plow bucked, careened, tilted, a Splinter sound as the front trucks slid on and heaving the crumpled the plow was on its right side and John was floundering in the snow, watching the locomotive. He saw him back down to the fireman leap, saw Tiny follow him. The engine, all the motive power they needed, drove them off, carry- ing the tank over with it. "OK!" yelled John. "Jump, you!" He led the way, hurling himself out into the snow bank. Excitelion! Men were in the snow; men were shouting; the way car was speeing more men. Anybody hurt? man! But we're derailed, man, derailed! "What the devil!"—angered, he was, flaring, ready to take a man apart. "Milk, I can do it." My G—d, Street, I forget. The roadmaster was shaking, holding a wrist in the other hand. "Forgot the d-d thing!" he cried again. "Thought we were over the hump and—" John was confronting Tucker. Something in his manners nipped john's attention, steadied his judgment, and assured neither did he speak further to Tucker. He turned to the shovellers who were waiting. "Get your shoels, half of you, Jim. take the rest of the boots back to that pile. Bring up a lot of 'em; all there are. Way high, get the boots on you and uncouple your tender. Tucker, put some wood from that car fender and build a fire . . . , a big one. Snap to it, now! You'll climb in an hour and then'll be all night for most of you, or time for every man that stays by it!" He poundd lining, he oversaw the first preparations. Made a monkey of, was he? . . . Looked like it. He'd made another look, then looked at the face of his father. The main-line branch was snowed in. A locomotive wouldn't be through for days to offer room for him. The equipment was a man's sized job for anybody; the best of men needed time to turn a trick like this, but no Hirschman had manned it so do they但 bant hurried to a station where three days of run was left for the milk. He could see his father's face when the old man heart; he could hear them laughing when he learned of this failure! - He hurried back to the crossing tender's house. His wife had enough grub for one more meal, anyhow. He telephoned Saunders at camp and ooled them with food and thanks to start fighting his way through the timber. (To Be Continued) fountain pens and other lost property, come back home when invited through Wandering Kansan Want Ads. 。