PAGE TWO
SUNDAY, JANUARY 10, 1931
UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN LAWRENCE KANSAS
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SUNDAY, JANUARY 18, 1931
HE PASSES ON THE TORCH
The intellectual zeal of Handel 3 Martin was an inspiration to all with whom he came in contact. Research and study in his chosen field were assured to him. With apparently limitless energy and enthusiasm, he pierced the unknown in舍倉 effort to bring to light those facts in his field hidden by the obscurity of countless ages. In spite of physical illness, he escaped his frail body into performing almost unoblivable feats of endurance.
But in spite of his world-renowned achievements, he remained extremely modest. Always he was reluctant to publish his discoveries for fear that he might unwittingly fall into errors of expression resulting from his limited schooling. For the same reason he is never felt himself capable of conducting a formal class.
He never acquired a formal education, but he was truly educated. The pupils who came to him got an insight into the true meaning of the term which is so much misused in this age of standardized teaching. The enrapturing of formalization and the repetition of known facts never occupied a primary position in the teaching of Mr. Martin. To a remarkable degree his efforts were directed toward breaking down the formal bounds of his subject and getting through to the vast unknown which holds the little that man has discovered in a shroud.
SCIENCE YIELDS TO THE MUSE
Handel T. Martin re-established the pursuit of knowledge on the only plane which can finally result in man's intellectual advancement, and glorified it by his remarkable studies and original discoveries in his chosen field.
A PALEONTOLOGICAL DITTY
The relations of Handel T. Martin with his asses were always happy and whimsical. The following rhyme was written by E. H. S. Bailen on a trip to the Freewind Mountains in Wyoming with H. T. Martin, Samuel W. Willston, and in 1839.
In Wipson, in the "Freezers," lay a Saurus—very fine; only waiting for the Kauans, who would open up the mine.
Chorus; Dinosaurus; Brontosaurus;
very fine.
Mososaurus; Stegasaurus; Ichthy-saurus, in the line.
From Milwaukee, from Milwaukee,
where the beer is very fine.
And from Kansas, where they have none, come the hunters in their prime.
When the Saurians heard the Kan-
rans, with their spades and picks
so fine.
In the quarry coming for them,then they get their bones in line.
Then the Pelvis with the Femur said "that Coracoid is mine,"
Oh, those Bone Men; How they labored, but they had a glorious time.
And the Vertabae all got there (slightly mixed) but on the line.
In the "Freezouts," in Wyoming, in the year of ninety-nine.
OH. CLARA BOW?
Oh, Clara, how could you? To think that those cupid-bow lips and those laughed eyes, and all of that dimpleing
- CHALKINGS
Everybody said Mopser was a queer boy to give a dog, but no one else had been able to produce a better book. He covered it in a poem. The poem was by Mr. Walter de la Mure, and occurred in the portfolio to a library-book in which I had been browsing, a few days before he wrote it. The lines went something like this:
MOPSER
"Has anybody seen my Mopser?
With hair the color of a King Charles the Fifth
A comely dog is he.
And teeth like ships at sea.
His爪 it stands straight upward,
His carm march two abreast.
And he answers to the simple name
When civilly addressed."
The difficulty had him in finding a name worthy of so marvelous a dog. I had bought him for a quarter, one odd fall day, from some grimly little store that didn't sell them at home. But in spite of this sad beginning, there was never anything forem to about him. His ears stood gaudily and pointed, as if he could enough to hold them up, and his beautiful plume-like tail just waved gracefully as a fam, just as soon as the plumes grew on it. His eyes were bright, merriest liquid brown in the world.
So when I discovered these extraordinary lines, I breathed a sigh of relief. Here was a distinguished name like James, but not a name out of a poem." And that by a first-rate poet who understood such things as children and elves to perfection. So why should he not be an authority on the names of dogs as well?
"I am not sure about the color of King Charles the Fifth," I said to my wife, and she viscerally occurred. "And he hantn't man teeth yet, but when they do grow they will undoubtedly like boat ship." My mapper Mogor, a good, substantial name and yet different. Not like the rest! So I bestowed the name upon him it was never a general favorite. The man who called him Beauty, committed it impossible, and called him Jim and Beauty, and all manner of on calline him Moser, and as he was a clever dog and knew to whom he belonged, he accepted my name greek Beauty, although it must be conceived that when they were accompanied by the offer of food, he re-considered one name just at willio to another.
Meper lived with us until the following spring. He grew to be a very clever and intelligent man, and most engaging manners. Early in his career he resolved to be married to a woman who is not the terrifying type, he rumors undiscouraged to the end, and we always pretended to rely greatly on him for advice during his action. I was glad afterwards that he had developed this side of his character, and it taken him seriously, for if we had not, perhaps he might not have come back that one terrible night when he was
Having resolved to become a watch-dog, Meles proceed to die. He was never able to bark like anything except simply an eagled small dog, but his growl became really terrifying. He said that he was so alarmed that as of a police-dog, or even a lion in his muzzle moments. That low, menacing growl struck terror from the crowd, who came to the door to be for food, and fear their threatening rumble from fire.
Added to his watchfulness, was another pronounced trait. He was an exceedingly conscientious dog, and not for worlds would he have seemed superior to anyone else. In the evenings we were fond of drawing around our fireplace and talking, or listening to music in the room, so much so that company. When he was small, we held him in our laps, and he formed the habit of walking from one to the other of us, and lying for a while on top of him, when he might feel slighted. As he grew
But you are not the only one who has been deceived. Pity it and all the other adorers who thought you were what you needed to be.
The treacherous Daisy has fulfilled her threat and given all of your secrets away. The newspaper blaze forth with her news about the affairs. They recount all your failings.
personality of yours, could have so mixed themselves up with life.
harger, he retained his fondness as being held, looking extremely ridi-ful, unwilling to be upfront with him, but unwilling to forget to be impartial, so he continued to wander over us at set time and we spent as we together at home.
He had many other engaging ways. These was his trick of carrying things around him, and he begged for chocolate. There was nothing wistful about Mepher. When we were with him, he begged nonchalantly, as if it did not matter, but begged eagerly, with dancing eyes and ewding tail, and when he received the gift, he began to bump impatiently against his benefactor, with a short bark or a pretended nip at him. He might have had to jump down into the dust to the household, and succeeded very well. He might have been annoyed by the small amusement, and he would have assured of our appreciative applause. But his soul was with his watching profession. He was our watch-dog.
I had acquired Mopsy in the fall. The winter which followed was uninterrupted, spring came, it seemed to come more lightly, more carelessly, more greasefully than ever before. Our ward was surrounded by branches were like fonts of flowers tossing toward the sky, so that it was impossible to sleep at night if I would begin by leaning from my wirowide, staring at them, and murmuring castically to myself. "Slowly, by all means," she said, her breath loveless of our new silver shoon." Only she walked the sky instead, with all her eyes fixed on the bristlethousness of our new little of this, the spell was too much for me, and I would steal down the door, taking Mopsy into my door, taking Mopsy the watch-loop with me, and walk up and down beneath them, while he ran ahead of me, running a silver thing himself in the moonlight.
Mopper would at such times frequently forget that he was a watchdog, and spin round and round in a circle, as if trying to capture his tail, or simply lie down upon the good warm earth and roll. I, who was of a more serious turn of mind, passed in my pacing up and down, to watch over me, until I went through my mind, for just that time I was engaged in a writing novel. There is nothing like writing a novel because it is written so abreast, or roaming far abroad, away beyond your own horizon. So I pondered as I walked, on life, but chiefly as I watched my characters for destruction, and the fact that his fate was marching swiftly upon him, subject to my own whim had a queen disquieting effect on him, nor did for anything have spared him.
"Mopser," I philozooped. "We shall not be here to walk under these pear tree always. Some day I must go there. When I go, then you will go away too. Who knows? We may be dead this time next year? But if I do, I think I shall never see you on nights like this. Will die, do you suppose you will remember? Will you? Will you?" I bent over to look into them and to me peered up into my face.
OFFICIAL UNIVERSITY BULLETIN Vol. XXVII University, Jan. 18, 1931 No. 90
However that may be, the spell passed as swiftly as it came, and we went back into the house at last, and I helped Mopser into his basket, and held him firmly by the scruff of the shoulder. We were off in a few delicate, until he fell silent.
I fell into the habit of staying up on Friday and Saturday nights, working on my novel until one or two clock hours. I had to stay with the family, who had often laughed over my aversion to being left downstairs alone at night. On other nights, I worked on my own projects in other less inspiring pursuits. But on these two nights, I worked on, unafraid, with my dog Mopster at the slightest noise outside.
JAY JANES:
And for a moment, strangeness lay upon us, upon菩帕 because there were too many people to breathe; we bloom have a hard fragrance about them at night, which makes solid snow on the ground. But that merely blow in the wind, or shines in the sky, a sandy, terrible import-
Our house stood on a high terrace, a little back from the street, and it was hard to see where we could house I have ever seen. The dining-room where I worked, because the table afforded ample space for spread-out meals. We also saw six windows, reaching from the ceiling to very near the floor. Just back of the kitchen were three windows above it. At my left
There will be a short meeting on Monday at 4:30 in room 21 of the Union alding.
SHIRLEY CASEBRI, President.
14. 5 TANES.
COLLEGE FACULTY:
The faculty of the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences will meet on Tuesday, Jan. 26, at 4:30 in the auditorium on the third floor of the Administration Building.
was a swinging door which connected the dining room with the butter's papyrus clover. I closed it to be playful and I wanted to concentrate. I put him into the butter's panty. All through that spiring I doged on the floor at my feet, or shingled reproducibly from the butter's places, and watched the family depart evenings, pleasure-bound, without it until the couple settled in their novel, and speedily forgetting everything else, until I was arround by the sound of the family car rolling up the street.
It was late in the spring when Mopper was run over by a car, andGrady was injured. He was in the ordinary prescribed various treatments and comedies, which had no effect, and he was rushed to the hospital curred, and advised chlamyform. We were allowed to keep Mopper for a little while longer, carrying him about the town, and talking nosedive to him in the way he loved, and to which he responded gaily. When he returned he was refused to be refused to eat, and there was a little shadow of pain in his eyes, be wrapped him up in his blanket and someone cut it out.
The Friday night after that, I could not work on my book. There were several nights when I think all of us were in vain. We were in vain that I told myself that Mopeer was running along under the bridge and we were waving like a silver plum; and that perhaps he had found the shade of Keats who would be proud to have written his poetry. In spite of him and guard him when he sat up late at night writing his poetry, in spite of me, I found our house as dissolivate as ever, and our house was a verryrible house of mourning for many days thereafter. And it was for long-suffering characters
I was sitting as usual, with my back to the three windows and the windowwindow a little further back, giving a trifle to lie in the warm spring breeze. I was院栽了些 time later when I walked across the street, I in my work that I only raised my head, wondered what the noise was from.
It. the family, feeling somewhat in need of食床, departed for some evening at all the outer doors, I spread my arm over the dressing table, and fell to work.
The next Friday, however, a new situation for the long-suffering in my book came into my head, and could hardly wait to work on
Again it came, and this time it really disturbed me for it;我 a scorpion was stuck in my throat around in my chair and faced the windows behind me. What I saw there
A man stood outside the center window. He cut away the screen. His face primed in at me. He toke his hand to open the window and his hands to open the window wide.
At that moment I became aware of a sound that seemed to have been going on for some time. It was a low moan, the sound resonated through the door that led to the butter's pantry. Now it grew heater and lender. The man heated his. The growing wind went on, increasing in fury and volume, as if behind the dog crooked yet that door
I think it must have gone on for many minutes; that terrible screech, that terrible man hecturing outlids
Then suddenly it was broken by the father row of our car, pulled up inside and shoved. The man combed in the dirtiness, and I find my head down around the
"Yes? Beenuure—"
For a while I could not answer the startled inquiries poured upon me. I could only point to the window where I entered, and I saw one went out and came in again under white-faced, screen. At last I was able to tell the screen. At last I was able to tell the story—how I had looked up to see the hideous face at the window; how I been unable to move or to cry out; how I had sustained but had realised because—because
"Then what was it?" I said slowly.
"What was growling just beyond that?"
"Because Mopser was growing out in the butter's nancy—"
They stared at me. At last someone said quietly, "But Mosmor has been dead for more than a week."
We never knew. We never knew. No one else had heard the terrible rumble.
And we are simple and foolish enough to think that Mozser, the watch-dog, who had gone along with me on my phone and whose cell phones were collected; who had laid at my feet guarded me late into the night in the jail; who kept me awake until I fatally, had come back that first night which I worked there alone, to keep me company. I win such a characteristic trait.
Leave a member of his family in such careless danger while he disarts himself, for the death of another. Not be. One night when strenues and fortune had gone somewhat to my heart, I had gravely asked him to remember, and to come back even if I should not, because death was after all a small thing be had come. —D. H.
or he had seen the man maintain outside the window. The house had been silent when they entered. Yet there was the throne of dreamed it. The thine had happened.
A. G. ALRICH
At the Galleries
--here.
--here.
An exhibit of Prof. Karl Matterer's paintings is being shown in the exhibition rooms of the painting department. One room is to watch
Printing Engineering
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For Birthday Girl
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The work is dated 1809 with the exception of a very few pieces, and marked with characteristic signatures, such as sketches from scenes around Lawrence.
--here.
The exhibit is noteworthy for the spontaneousOrigin which it shows. The treatment of "The River" is cense and mournful, while "Spitting" is briquet. The same easy concatenation is found in "Snowy Day" and "Red House," pictures of two old buildings near Lawrence, but the mood is different. "La Balle Street Chicago"
You will find what you want
One of the most interesting pieces among the oils is a portrait of the artist, Sotheby's collection of painting, Fred. Albert Blech. A soft brown color diffuses the face because of the lighting used. This is the only work in the exhibit which is dared to exist.
The Book Nook
Another portrait, that of a young girl, is on the whole not so satisfactory. The background overbalances the picture.
Professor Mattern has found his subjects among the simple things of life they shew to very careful craftsmanship, his work has spontaneously and lightness.
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CALIFORNIA - The children's paradise. Good schools, flowers at the churches—resort hotels.
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