PAGE TWO
UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN LAWRENCE, KANSAS
University Daily Kansan
MONDAY, FEBRUARY 20. 1923
Official Student Paper of THE UNIVERSITY OF KANSAS LAWRENCE, KANSAS
Robert Whitman    Margaret Inez
Jill Doyle        Robyn Green
Edith Krom      Bill Myllenton
David Lawrence   Allyson Brooke
Ira McCain      Catherine
Arnold Kuttmanan
Andrew Smith      David Smith
Telephones
Business Office ... KU. 6
News Room ... KU. 2
Night Connection, Business Office ... 202K
Night Connection, News Room ... 202K
Published in the afternoon, five times a week and on Sunday morning, by students in the Deartment of Journalism of the University of Kansas, from the Frozen at the Department of
MONDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 1933
Subscription price, $4.00 per year, payable in advance. Simple single fee, for each. Noted on secondclass month September 1916, at the post office at Lawrence, Kauai.
THAT LOWLY WESTERNER
In Madison Square Garden last Saturday night glenn Cunningham from lowly Kansas broke the tape 10 yards ahead of the great eastern flash, Gene Venzke, in the classic Baxter mile. What a disconcerting and most vexatious sight this must have been to the Pennsylvania flies that twice now in two weeks has been defeated by this "upstart from out west," although each time Venzke has been entered as the favorite.
The East dies hard. Their knowledge of sports and sportkings is so vainly limited to their own part of the country that they find it tremendously difficult to realize the possibility of some rank outsider's excelling in competition with their eastern athletes.
Saturday night, for the second time in less than a week, the Kansas miker did much to shake their stubborn confidence by sprinting away from the great Venzie in the last lap before their very eyes. Loyalty to their runner is a noble expression, but if the East again fails to recognize Cunningham as the master, it will brand itself to the sporting world as a poor loser.
An example of the practicality of the college student was illustrated in a Law of the Press class recently. A young woman student was asked what she would do if she were sued for damages. She replied calmly that she would take the matter to a lawyer and let him figure it out.
WHO TEACHES IT?
It is surprising how many students prefer to study their instructors rather than their texts and how carefully they record their idiosyncrasies. This one will take so much apple-polishing this one will not take any. This one is partial to them to men. This one's quizzes are always objective; this one's always the essay type.
Most students have a memorized list of professors with them when they go to enroll. They know which ones are "easy," and which they must avoid if it can possibly be done.
As soon as they begin the course they start to apply the information they have gathered about the instructor. From then on they watch him closely in order to add to the store of knowledge—about the instructor, not about the subject matter. They know if they need to listen in class or study the text. They soon discover what he likes and what he dislikes.
By the time the semester is over, most students know enough about their teachers to fill a book. As for the course itself—well—!
CONVENTION
Convention in some form has probably existed since the beginning of time, and it will no doubt continue to exert its influence on human activity so long as human nature remains what it is. Most people instinctively seek to be obese; no one likes to swim against the tide, when it is so much easier to drift.
To youth, as it attempts to seek its own answers to the questions that confront it, convention offers
a serious threat; not the convention that prompts the observance of the little social courtesies along with everyone else, but the spirit of conformity that leads one along with the mob in matters where individual judgment should prevail. Too often personality is completely submerged beneath the influence of group-conformity.
the trend of a cycle of society is reactionary, so that each unit of society plays its part in retarding the progress of each individual within it. The family, the church, the college, the fraternity, the social set, all exert their own pressure on a particular individual to make him conform to their standards, share their views, preach their doctrines—in short, become one of them. Because each of these groups is to a large degree successful in its efforts, we have a great major that have conformed and consequently become the average.
True it may be that an advancing civilization has brought to this average group a higher standard of intelligence, better living conditions, and a progressive moral and ethical code which have combined to give it an upward trend. Nevertheless, just as surely as that average is pulling up those below it, so it is pulling down those above it. The levelling process is the same; only the results differ.
Consider the change that takes place in a great number of students who come to the University. Most of them come here in the first place with a definite goal in mind, an education. Each has his own dream, his own ideal, toward which he is eager to strive. After a few months in an environment where the prevalent idea is to get by with as little work as possible, where there is no thought of meeting education half way, those dreams, those ideals, those goals begin to fade. Before long they are gone entirely, and the average group, mediocre by definition, has again exerted its conforming influence.
Apparently only a few are willing to resist the social pressure upon them that is sure to follow a refusal to conform to the dietates of the herd. Only the strongest of personalities, the most indomitable of wills, can resist the adverse feeling of the crowd. Only the great have done it in the past; only those who do it in the future will attain greatness.
QUIPS from other QUILLS
...
In some American towns, wood money is being used. It seems that, instead of gold, they'd sooner be on a silver basis. Texas State Lass-O.
There are three genders: masculine feminine, and crooner—Daily Trojan.
Too many women are carrying cigar-
carets in their mouths instead of safety
pins...Austin Butcher in the Altoona
Tribune.
There's only about half a yard difference between a swell college evening dress and a wicked rudiment—Baker Orange.
Some people seem most uncomfortable when they are still.Daily Texas
A local lady invariably confuses Clark Gable and Jimmy Durante in her mind. It's our idea of a dirty Herald. Durante, J. P., H. in Ottawa. Herald.
It is to be feared that workers won't long he satisfied with the five-day week. What they will eventually earn a day-a-week weekend — Anthony Republican.
You have to provoke some people into telling the truth—Daily Texan.
"We don't suppose we shall ever be able to understand why basketball referees don't work games from advantageous positions in the grandstands where, judging by the yelps of the crowd, anyone must certainly be able to see better," says TLK, in the Concordia Blade.
Some of the fraternity brothers and sisters who have inherited valuable houses lately declared subject to taxes no doubt feel their entrance in college was timed a few years too late.-H.D.K. in the Manhattan Republican.
Humor is getting highbrow. All you do is scrawl off a dizzy picture and then have the little kid or old lady cuss—Baker Orange.
If editors could get credit for the things they refrain from saying most of us would be famous—Leavenworth Times.
A local min set through two hour of motion pictures taken during the World War at a Wichita theater last night and came home feeling as if he were entitled to a bonus—Augusta Gazette.
Personally we doubt the veracity of the California man who claims to have eliminated all the unusual aspects of garlic—Garden City Telegram.
"Matiomiral quarrel ends in wreck," states a newspaper. He probably puts his foot down for once and forget it was on the gas feed - Baker Orange
OFFICIAL UNIVERSITY BULLETIN
Vol. XXX Monday, Feb. 29, 1933 No. 106
Notices due at Chancellor's Office at 11 a.m. on regular afternoon publication days
and 11 a.m. on Saturday afternoons from April 1 to June 31.
COLLEGE FACULTY MEETING
The faculty of the College will meet on Tuesday, at 4:30 in the auditorium on the third floor of the Administration building E. H. LINDLEY
ENGINEERING BOOK EXCHANGE:
Refunds for books sold by the exchange will be made Monday and Tuesday at the Council bench in Marvin hall. C. E. KNIDVATSE, Chairman.
GRADES:
Students may obtain first semester grades at the Registrar's office according to the following schedule of names:
Tuesday, Feb. 21—To M, inclusive
Thursday, Feb. 23—To S, inclusive
Friday, Feb. 24—To Z, inclusive
Saturday, Feb. 25—Those unable to appear
at the scheduled time.
[GREGIO E. FOSTER] Registrar
KAYHAWK CLUB:
The Kayhawk club will meet this evening at 7:30 in room 5, Memorial
Jion.
CONYEIR HERRING, Vice President.
GEORGE O. FOSTER, Registrar.
LAW SCHOOL CONVOCATION:
The Law School convention which was postponed from last Tuesday will be held in the little theater of Green hall at 10:30 a.m. Tuesday, Feb. 21. Mr. Cyrus Crump, president of the Missouri State bar association, will speak on "The Practice of Criminal Procedure" and are interested in presenting awards are urged to be present.
ROBERT McNair DAIV, Dean.
Phi Chi Theta rush dinner will be held at the Colonial Tea Room on Tues day, Feb. 21, at 6 p.m.
JUANITA MORESE.
Phi Delta Kappa will meet at 7:30 p.m. Tuesday at the Alpha Kappa Lambda house, 1332 Louisiana street. Prof. H. E. Chandler will speak.
PHI CHI THETA:
PHI DELTA KAPPA:
RECOMMENDATIONS COMMITTEE:
The Recommendations committee of the Men's Student Council will meet in room 5, Memorial Union at 9:30 Tuesday morning. Any student having recommendations for future council action will be welcome. FRED CONNER.
No classes will be held on Washington's birthday, Wednesday, Feb. 22.
E. H. LINDLEY.
'TECHNOCRATIC PVROTECHNICS'
WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY:
The Women's Pan-Hellenic exchange dinner will be held Thursday, Feb. 23
at 6 p.m.
JUANITA MORSE
WOMEN'S PAN-HELLENIC DINNER:
GARLAND DOWNUM, Secretary.
While riding in the observation car of a train last fall, M. Foster was reading the fashion notes. He came across the statement that men would wear a great deal of dark blue this winter. "Yes," agreed a fellow passenger, "they wear a great deal of dark blue if they were what they were wearing at winter."
William T. Foster, former director of the Pollak foundation for Economic Research and author of several books, recently addressed a small group of students and faculty members on the tongue-twisting subject, "Technocratic Pyrotechnics." The address was purely informal and in language which every human could understand, and was based upon his own experiences. Mr. Foster recounted in his own imitable way. Some of them might we! be reheated here.
Once Mr. Faster was being shown the famous Los Angeles river. Looking down at the diminutive stream of water, he asked, "Are there any fish in that river?" "There used to be," answered a resident, "but they kicked up so much dust that they choked to death."
In reading a Memphis newspaper while in that city last November, Mr. Foster found this among the church choir will sing "Sear me! Oh, Lord." Mr. Foster was spending the summer in Maine last year and observed a farmer who was trying to sell a cow to a neighbor. The prospective purchaser asked, "How much milk will she give?" The farmer answered, "but she's a durned good-natured cow, and she'll do the best she can."
Mr. Foster at one time in London heard a political standing for election in Parliament speech. "I know it is very unfoundable that we are going through an economic depression and just can't be helped." "You're silly," a voice drawn "run the back of the room. The speaker continued, "We are undergoing one of these current swings from optimism to pessimism, which is a part of human nature and cannot be changed." "You're silly," said the same voice. "We must listen to you," he added, "the politician stated in an master voice, "we must just wait until things get better of themselves." "You're silly," repeated the voice from the back of the room. Driven to despair, the speaker turned to the interrupter and said, "Sir, you are drunk." "I know I'm drunk," retorted the audience, "but in the morning I'll be all right, and you will be still silly."
An Iowa farmer was before a congressional committee in Washington describing the effects of the depression upon his home community. Wheaton an urban congressman remonstrated that the farmers surely had enough to eat.
"Yes," she joined the farmer, "but if things don't get better in another six months, we'll have the fattest lunch of all." She ranning away you ever did see.
Our Contemporaries
--non of Tumour;
Carmelicina did not hesitate
"I do not believe in faculty citizenship of college papers," said the dean of the Columbia University school of journalism recently. And Carl W Ackerman's words should carry weight. He has been associated with college publications long enough to know whereof he speaks.
There are times, naturally, when school boy editors cause the administration embarrassment through immature judgment and unwide policies. They are also the case in many papers being published by college students in which there is absolutely no restriction or censorship, A. and M. is one of the fortunate cut-offs in these cases; few isolated cases the faculty has had no cause forregretting its liberality.
It is Dean Ackerman's opinion that "college journalism has improved distinctly in the past 20 years. An examination of the leading papers will show that many of them are edited with professional rather than academic understanding." The truth of this statement is clearly evident from a comparison of the papers of today and those of the past. Because the provenance can be attributed largely to the increased freedom of the student editors.
It is ridiculous to expect student journalists to profit from their experiences on a school publication if that experience is not properly university and administration. That is the trouble with most high school and junior college papers now. The students are little better than murientees who have worked for their mothers and matured pull the strings.
Tusson, Ariz. Feb. 29—(UP) General John J. Pening was registered at local hotel today, but not under his wn name. A report he was here to undergo an operation at the veterans hospital was denied.
Of course students make mistakes But it is through these mistakes we learn—Scoop in the Daily O'Collegian
Send The Daily Kansan home.
Pershing Incognito at Tucson
The May Day Mystery
Copyright by Octavus Roy Cohen.
Octavus Roy Cohen
By
SYNOPSIS
--non of Tumour;
Carmelicina did not hesitate
CHAPTER 1—Antinette Porton,
Married, resumes Foster Thayer's attention to Lily Weach, and new season begins. ending with bitter reconciliations, the non-antinette student, Lily Thayer, a girl born with a boy, Thayer and Vernon are with him. Thayer and Vernon
CHAPTER HL—Harry determines to see Thayer and end his association with the company. He goes out until she has appointed to her husband at a fraternity house. Mix Verve lives and goes to his room. Tony ends her want to Thayer as a friend, and he immediately afterwards, visibly in a state of embarrassment, lets apparently clothes to be made.
CHAPTER V—The Marlinard bank is robbed at 8600 Gresham, the robber encumbered with a gun and apparently wounded. Jim, an officer, and good natured, comes to investigate
CHAPTER VI — Throat Fence tells the story of the Verson man. The Verson of large sums, in cardinal colors, was initially relied upon by the family realized it. Ruggan induces the Verson into a life of crime, evidence implicating Verson in torture the Verson in York and Trown the Verson in West Yorkshire and under arrest as Thayer murderer.
CHAPTER IV HI-HEARAY interruptions at the murder of a child on day of the murder. Welsh is in charge of the investigation. Thayer was alive when he left him. Thayer was taken by his bodyguard, who is in legal possession, encouraging to take him into custody, then timed the firm conversation being that which results from the resulting association with the resulting series of incidents more commonly known as "the murders."
CHAPTER VIII
They located Mike Carminec in the basement of the fraternity house. Beaumont explained that Hanway was in his room, and he asked him . , , and then there was silence for several minutes during which he repeated expressiveness countenance of Hanway with wonder and bewilderment. When Jim did speak, his tone was quiet —
"Now, suppose you tell me what happened after Mr. Vernon left the fraternity house?"
"I was work" in the back downstairs when I see Messier Van Gogh paint a painting. He wax and go up to second door. I do not see anybody when I go up there, so I start waxing the floor and after that I walk into the Thouder's door is a little bit open. I look again and I see his faces and also his legs, and I think right away it is funny he should be lying down inside — because that is funny thing to do.
"Then my mind says to me that maybe Meester Thayer, he is drunk, and I think I will put him on the bed and want the other fellows to know Meester Thayer is drunk in the fraternity house because that is not nice except when they have a party. I want to get the frame of the juniper seemed to shrivel at the remembrance and there was a wild light in his eyes; "I go in the room, Meester Hanvey, and right now he is not drunk, because his throat—threat. . . ." The junior covered his face with his hands and rocked back and forth. "He is all blood, and
Regan relaxed as the story finished. He glanced at the prodigious audience. "You look like a man," made Haney was lying back in his chair with eyes half closed, apparently pleased with the crowd.
Rengan wanted to break the no. 4-ward silence, but dared not. Carmine the artist, who sat in the library, then sank into a chair, his sharp black eyes roving about the little room. And when Hamvey spoke, it was like a breath of fire — voiced; and about something else.
"Who did you like best, Mike—Vernon or Thayer?"
"Meester Thayer, sir. I like him most best."
The swarthy face turned brick red, but the man did not evade.
"I like Meester Thayer heat, sir, he cause I feel like him and me, we are partners."
"Fish? What you mean; Partners?"
"I mean ... , I do not like to say that fish are partners,"
"I promise, but I promise to tell the truth, Master Thayer and me, we do much business."
"What sort of business?"
"Whisky."
Reagan sat up very straight. This was something entirely new to him.
"You mean," asked Jim, "that Thayer was a bootlegger?"
Carmelinel made a posture of horror, "Oh no, sir. Mester Thayer, he is one fine teller. He only gets the orders he gives me." The teacher which we are the booteefer" He paused for a moment in obvious embarrassment, and then made a further explanation. "But I am not common booteefer. Mester Hanvey, I get the orders for the college tellers, and always I know that it is good stuff."
Jim Hanvey appeared to be absorbed in the mechanism of his patent
"Are You a Regular Bootlegger, Mike?"
toothpick. His eyes were focused on that device when he spoke again to Carmine.
Harvey pursued his inquiry, "How was this liquor thing worked, Mike?"
"Are you a regular bootlegger
Mike?"
"Oh, no, sir. I would not do not
like that—only for the college
fellers." The junior's eyes flashed to
Reagan's storm free. "I hope I do not
get to jail because I tell you that, sir,
I'm going to be insulted. Insulted.
'Will be, Reagan.'
"Whatever you say, Chief."
was this liquor thing worked, Mike? "It was it was喉痛, Meester Haney: Always sometimes the boys give a party which the faculty they do not understand about, so they want liquor. Meester Thuny, that is, we have not been fit until which have never been cut. So they give him the money and he orders it from me."
"I see. . . And you and he would split the difference, eh?"
"Then you were close friends, eh?" "Oh, no, sir. Mester Thayer, he is ver' fine gentleman and he would not be friends with no jannister."
"I see. . . He certainly was a fine gentleman. Mine—no mistake. I don't know if he was pretty good friends, not their? Did you ever hear them quarrel?"
"Yes sir. For real thing, the fellows they pay me one hundred dollars a month. I pay for it sixty dollars a month. I pay for it seventy dollars and I take twenty dollars."
"No, sir. Not one time even."
"They used to play cards a goo deal, didn't they?"
"Vernon never mixed up in this liquor business, did he?"
"Maybe so—maybe not. I think maybe so."
"Let me see . . . about one week ago, sir. It was a nice party. They wanted two cases."
"No, sir. Just Meester Thayer."
"Humm! When was the last time you bought liquor for him?"
"Two hundred dollars' worth?"
*Did you get it*
"Did Thayer pay you for it?"
The lawyer said for him,
"Right away quick, sir, all except
the forty dollars which he keep for
himself."
"Yes, Meester Hanvey; always he sees that I get my money vert' quick so the man from which I buy it off, he also does not be force' to walk."
"He always looked after you, didn't he?"
"Did Thayer usually pay you when he ordered the whisky or only after the boys said him!"
"After the fellers they pay him. You see, it is for them and so he should not pay me until he get the money from off them."
"And when he died, Mike—did he ewe you anything?"
"No, sir. Meester Thayer, he did not owe me one cent."
"Good." Hanvey hoisted himself to his feet, and nodded to the faniter. "That'll be all Mike."
"You do not ask me no more questions!"
"Nope. Nothing else. I'm much obliged for everything."
Thank you, sir.
Reagan led the way into the hall and thence upstairs to the main floor.
Several boys, having heard that a new detective was on the case, were gathered on the veranda, struggling to appear disheurted. But all eyes were on him, and he made a figure as be and Reagan stood at the foot of the steps claunting.
"What now, Hanvey? Would you like to see Max Vernon's room?"
"You've searched it, haven't you?"
"Find anything?"
"Not a thing, but I thought—"
"My Goal! you're a thorrible bight.
Well, let's go. But Lordly! how I hate
these steps."
Harvey paired to the top floor and Reagan conducted him into a small but handsome furnished room, respendent with pennants, pillows, t筝 rackets and numerous lithographs in various conditions of deshabill
tone, there was more than a hint of taste in the general arrangement. In a corner was a delicate statuette perched on a tawkod thouher. And there was a large, ornate emeritus weapon: A fencing foll, a broadword, a Malay knis, an Arab seismitr, a rusy revolver of Civil war days, a Philippine baba, a how do you dress yourself, a virginia, linnery at them, and then at he arrangement of the room.
But despite the markedly collegiate
It was cozy. in a joyful, humorous-good sort of way. He hawaii casually slipped into the dress, imaged, indifferently, through the masses of expensive linen. He opened the doe of the hunting closet and expired it, then the multitude of tailored outfits disclosed.
"Vernon sure must be a snappy dresser, John."
"Don't they have it easy? Just sitting around under the trees and talking to girls. . ."
"I used to think I missed a lot by not going to college, John. Now I know it."
"I looked that way to me," answered Renan enviously. "I always did wish I could afford them kind of clothes. I'll bet there isn't a suit in yonder."
Harvey walked to the window and stared off toward the sprawling town of Marlind, Mid-afterpart, and most classes were finished, so that the shady mids under the trees were peering up. They seemed to be doing nothing whatever and doing it with enthusiasm, Jim sighed.
Harvey sank into a chair and lighted a clear, "Might it not touch to think of a kid like Vernon having it easy like a nasty mess having it up in a nasty mess like this?"
"I wish I was young again—and so not durnb out. Somehow, John, I can forget about it into my fat domo. I'd study the idea and I'd sort of die off before it reached my brain. But man! I sure have had a wait at this laugh around stuff."
"You tell em, Jim. That's one reason I was glad to get you on the case. They're a nice sort, these kids. I didn't use to think so. I thought they were a bunch of crazy high-hats, but, by golly! they stick! I haven't got to tell them what else me too be'd a real guy if he wasn't so dam 'd愚健!"
"What's all the military equipment?" he asked, referring to the knives and worms on the wall.
Harvey moved his head laboriously toward the mantel.
"I asked about that," said Reagan. "It seems Vernon has traveled a good deal and he's sort of collecting these things. That funny-looking one is from where the Malays live. I think they call it a killer. And that one over the hill is a bole, or whatever it is. Emas vexes. Vernon was a not about "Em.""
"Everywhere. I'm sure I didn't miss
n thing."
"Funny hunch." . . But at that it
"more sensible is more successful
stamps or art things." He blinked.
"I looked all through the room,
John?"
"You never can tell. . . . Just to make sure, though, we'll make one more search."
Reagan started with the dresser. He rummaged through the drawers and into every corner. He inspected every ornament and spot of dust on the mantel. He looked behind pen tapes in pictures which were tacked to the wall.
He opened the door of the hanging closet, where he commenced a systematic search into every pocket of every suit of clothes.
It was a trollous job and Reagan—glancing occasionally into the room—was quite sure that Haver's suggestions had been entirely without anterior motive.
The prejudices body was settled singly into the big chairs; the pugsgy were in the doorway, and the massive mezzanine and Jim Haney was—or far as the naked eye could see.
Sleeping? Or was he? The longer Reagan was with Hanvey the less he had appeared to be obtuse, at times brilliant—and at times just plain dumb. Reagan returned to his task. If Hanvey could not get one, Reagan had ever over each inch of the ground before . . . but he had gone to job as thoroughly as he had the first.
And then the silence of the room was shattered by a sharp cry from the closet.
Hanvey's eyes uncurtained slowly, but he exhibited no other excitement — even when Reagan leaped into the floor and struck him between his thumb and forefinger.
"Good G—d, Chief—look here."
You need the trophy on your back.
"Dogg, gone. . . . It's a knife. And there's blood on it, too. Where'd you find it, John?"
"In the corner of the closet. On the floor I — don't understand him. Closet door is closed every day, . . ." He was more excited than he cared to show. "But weve got something here. Chief — no matter what he says. With this, it ought to be plain selling."
"Because," snapped Reagan trump-
phany—that is the knife that killed Thayer,
and Chief-I've got another
idea."
"Good for you, John. What is it?"
Rangan stepped swiftly to the mantel.
He designated a spot on the wall
of the papering a light of a lighter
color.
"Unless I'm all wrong, Haney," he said "this knife belongs right in that spot. And if it does—there isn't much more I can do." Xavier Vernon is the man who used it.
(To be continued tomorrow)