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UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN, LAWRENCE, KANSAS
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 7.1930
University Daily Kansar
Official Student Paper of THE UNIVERSITY OF KANSAS Lawrere, Kansas
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF CLARENCE RUPP
PENN MCCORMICK SARA THOMPSON
MANAGING EDITOR WILLIAM NICHOLS
Sunday Editor Owen Paul
Oval Bennett...Donald Whitman
Albert Peterson...Harry Hurtz
Kimmy Kliney...Harry Hurtz
Fred Forsyth...Kimberly Wood
John Boulashil...Sam Shade
Raymond Fitzgerald...Joe Rack
Heathergatt Allen...Jane S. Clair
ADVERTISING MGR.  ROBERT PIERSON
District Assistant.  Irma Smith
District Assistant.  William H. Smith
District Assistant.  William H. Smith
Cognition Manager  Jack Murr
Clarence Rop
Frank McClennand William Nicholson
Frank Pierceum Virginia Willisman
Mary Hartman Iris Fitzsimmon
Darl Cooper Mary O'Reilly
Martin Miller Walter Moor
Telephones
Business Office K. U, 6
News Room K. U, 2
Night Connection 2701K
Published in the afternoon, five times a week, and on Sunday morning, by students in the Department of Journalism at the University of Kansas, from the Press of the Imperial
Subscription price, $4.00 per year, payable in advance. Single inline, to each. Entered as seventh payment. Submit at Lawrence at Lawrence Kanns, under the post of March 3, 1879.
SUNDAY DECEMBER 7.1930
"WHITEWASHED'
Kansas is back in the Big Six and her football team, which has just won its first championship in the new conference, will have another chance at its traditional opponents—the Tigers, the K-Aggies, the Sooners, Huskers, and Cyclones. There appears to be general satisfaction; we'll show them again next year!
Our football team was one of which we had reason to be proud. What Kansan did not feel a thrill when "the powerhouse" swept the opposing team backward to the sound of the Rock Chalk, broke through for long runs, or completed a spectral pass?
Standards of sportsmanship were on a comparatively high level during the past season. Officials commented on the cleanness of play, and the school spirit of the students was publicly recognized by the administration.
But what of the athletes who were either dropped from the team or threatened with being dropped when Kansas went back in? Kansas has accepted the interpretation of the rules laid down by the ether members of the Big Six, but in doing so she has withdrawn her support from those men who represented her on the athletic field and brought her to ultimate championship.
Harry F. Sinclair has just paced his back dues and $5 fee as a registered pharmacist in Kansas, and is now entitled to the privilege of filling prescriptions for Kansans again. Doctor Brinkley might possibly need someone with a license.
"FE, FI, FO, FUM . . . "
The Kansan is announcing today the names of the men who are to represent the state of Kansas in the district Rhodes scholarships contest.
These scholarships represent priceless opportunities, but they also involve the performance of an important service, which the holders of them sometimes appear to forget. Rhodes scholars are appointed to represent the Unit.1 States to Great Britain, and Britain to the United States when they return home.
To convey one country adequately to another requires curiosity, tact and adaptability. The American at Oxford who chooses his friends from those of his own nationality and avoids the English because of the problem they present to him, will never learn much about the British nature. Characteristics of foreign nations which appear on the surface to result from one cause, are seen on investigation to come from quite different ones. English coldness, for example, may be the result not of an assumed superiority, but of an ingrained reserve, and in many cases, of shyness and inability to trust oneself to express one's feelings.
Not only must the Rhodes scholar be humbly anxious to learn about his new country, but he must show tacit in conforming to the English rules of what a gentleman does not do, at the same time sacrificing no of his individuality. He must not autobirth condemn customs, certainly not publicly, merely insulting his family. On the other hand, when the Rhodes scholar return home, fresh from travel
n England and Europe, from three years of glamour association with the more finished background of Europe and its richer if not so intense life, he must remember that his associates have not had these advantages and that they will be quick to resent any show of superiority from him.
How man, alas! have we seen, shiny, with superficial polish, make themselves oblosed to their former friends, and so mullify any sincere desire they may have had to impart some of the wisdom they have acquired overseas.
A poor Chinese boy has grown rich exhibiting a crab which he caught, which bears the face of a pretty woman on the shell. And yet there are some who say crabbing never gets you any-where.
WHAT IS ECONOMY?
The proposed attempt of leaders in reed-building throughout Kansas to make a substantial step toward the hard-surfacing of the principal highways has already met a storm of opposition from newspaper editors.
Characteristic of their appeals are such bauty statements as the following which are lines selected from a recent editorial: "Not disheartened by the defeat of the income tax amendment, those lechees who are continually engaged in sucking the public's money into the coffers of the state, now come forward with a proposal to that a $600 million loan would be发放, and increase the taxes when the farmers are already on the verge of bankruptcy."
It is difficult to see how an income tax would have raised the farmer's taxes when he is on the verge of bankruptcy and has lost money this year. The income tax was supported by the farm leaders so that the burden of the general property tax, now largely borne by the farmer, might be lightened. The income tax would have increased taxes only for those who have actually made large profits, but would lower taxes for those whose money is tied up in heavily sued real estate.
As to the road development scheme, there has been no proposal to raise general property taxes in order to make the payments on the bonds. A slight increase in the gasoline tax would be sufficient to retire them before maturity. The gasoline which the farmer burns in his tractor has always been exempt from the state tax and will probably continue to be free.
The increased expense would be borne directly by those who use the route, including transcontinental tour-
it. It would be returned to them-fold by the greater mileage and reduced operating expenses on hard-sur-face roads as compared with those on a sticky stretch of Kansas "gumbo."
THANK HEAVEN, WHAT A RELIEF
THANK HEAVEN, WHAT A RELIEL.
Kansas is back in the Big Six, Jim Bausch has been declared incigible and the Jozwaehners have declared themselves willing in the future to comply with the new rules of reference and to submit the records of their heroes for judgment concerning their athletic achievement.
The big muddle has been cleaned up, but the question as to who has been made the goat. K, U., the other members of the conference, or Jim Bausch, still is being deleted down the lengths of fraternity and boarding-house tables
Not knowing all that went on behind various closed doors during the past few weeks, we are unprepared to say who was locked. Our heads are still pretty much in a muddle, for we cannot follow all the various views to their sources. No doubt the "insider" on both sides feel they are justified in keeping their chins at the usual elevation when walking among the rest of us.
The essential point is that we can continue to portray corn stalks and tigers in somewhat unfavorable positions and welcome old grads who resurrect old loyalties as an excuse to get back to alma mater and let off steam. We can still have dreary Monday morning following sprees to Manhattan, Lincoln, and Columbia. We can still measure the prowess of our heroes by percentage tables.
This argument undoubtedly will die
its own exhaustion, for we have no offi-
cial statements for which to wait con-
cerning this aftermath.
And we shall soon forget the fact that this all was once seriously threatened—until the next time.
Long before she wakes she has the pleasant sensation of warm sunlight upon her, striking her arms and throat, then running in her hair. A rosey, golden mist. After a while she turns, slowly, lighly. Something cool brushes her cheek. Something delightful. She lifts her head, and gives off of her ears. What is it? She is awake, but she cannot pull her eyes open. She lies there letting the breeze—she is laughing. Her eyes—ruffie her hair, cares her eyelids.
FRIDAY MORNING CLASS
Ev Marv Neubauer
"O-o-h*h" she gaps she is happy and laughs, holding her hands and closes her eyes. She hears her softly and a young girl's voice say, "Ten after tenen, Marsha. You'll be ready."
- CHALKINGS -
But suddenly she is awake—wide awake. She watches the curtains fluttering inward from the window, hears someone laughing and then someone is running down the hall. Someone throws open the door to the room next to hers and calls someone to wake up. She hears more feet walking on the floor and laughter above the sound of water splashing and running in the shower room. She is beginning to like living in a dorm. She is beginning to like playing with the funny ones she hated so at first.
Food! The thought makes her shoulder. Oh! On such a glorious morning, "Thanks," whispers Manha, but she stares up at the door close until she shears the door close again. A second later she leaps from her bed and falls on the grass. Dreds, dreds, no, thousands of perky dandelions dot the grass. A flash of yellow swoops from a branch of the wild
"A warbler already!" She shivers, but she is not cold. "This warm sun-light!"
She listens a moment. And then she hears it—the high, clear, lifting note of a meadow lark. It breaks abruptly and falls away. It might have grooted infinity. And that's the very way she feels today. Funny how the way you feel when you first get up can affect your whole day. She matches the green bath cap can with her pink dress and a towel and runs with long strides to the shower room. Everyone else has gone to breakfast or is still asleep in bed. She lets the water splash over her body—warm at first and soothing. She wakes up from a bed of needles on her arms and her breast.
Back in her room she stands unclothed in the warm sunlight pouring through her window. She doesn't know me, but I am sure she must upon the orange jersey. It reminds her of tangerines, a certain shade of rouge, and a day in a canoe on the lake. That is why she must wear it—it and a yellow coloured scarf around her throat.
"French at nine," she says half alou, as if she has just remembered it. "Ohl I forgot to study."
But that can't spoil her day. No, no
no!
"Marshal! Marshal! Going to class?" They are coming back from breakfast already. She can hear them laugh among themselves. She can't go with her. Not today. She can't be alone. "Not now," she calls. "I don't go ill nine."
"All right." And the sound of voices grows faster and dazzles down the hall. She picks up her book she picks up the little volume of Prosper Merimee's "Columbia" and the jade colored fountain pen beside it. It skies blue, so dark in a cloud it not even a little white feather one. Is that the bridalwreath beneath her window that has been potted to study on a day like this, wind blowing, and the sun pouring into you. What a day to write a letter — a little personal one. And she takes her socks off from a white oblong box on the table. These sheaps into the书, and, after adjusting the knot of her scar from the room.
"But I must write the letter." And it is as if she writes out a little flood of words to describe the pages paper she has put between the pages of her book. It is a feminine piece of stationery with a young girl's face covering, and it is blue feather suspension from the mag-
She is sure she has never seen the campus quite so lovely. It isn't the trees and the grass, but the beautiful than any others she has ever seen, but the sunlight spread over everything makes the grass look beautiful. The sun gives the grass and trees a golden shenan, and turns the shadows a deeper jade. She chooses a bench directly in front of her, so it warms up her warmth upon her. It is a little green bench nestled close to a hedge of hardy rose with a poisony smell. The French indulgence comes over her. A lazy indulgence comes over her.
cnita colored hat. The breeze flutters the feather. The paper inspires her.
My darling Albert—But we still have a few weeks since she has met him two weeks ago—when he came down to the house, where I couldn't see anyone else but her at the dance at Mem Union. Well, hadn't he started his letters with歉! And now he is
This silly, impossible little tune she is humming is the same one the orchestra was playing when he almost stopped dancing on the floor and said, "You know what I want you to know. How I knew the minute I saw you . . . that you were meant for me." And she had laughed, looking up at him. "Conceived," she tensed. But she is sure he understood that she didn't know it until she held her arm, much tighter after that.
"And what have you been doing with your time since you went back to the university—studying hard?" And who have you been dating?"
"If you were only here now."
The last sentences makes her shiver a little. Do you suppose she has been told that before? She thought of that before. But she only laughs at the impossibility. Not when she sees someone.
Well, she just won't worry about that French, or let it spill her letter. Beides, that isn't what she wants to say to him.
"Such a perfect day—sun flooding everything, and I have not studied for my exam. How can you think of all of the time? No. Prof. Sourcette conagreed after. It is old Prof. Sourcette. You knew—the mean one I told you in class. He simply refused to pass Prey."
"And if you can come down this week-end I’ll break my dats with me," she said. "I should not last Saturday night if I just can’t see last mmon on this campus? But you are to guess the reason. I shouldn’t tell you.” She paused, laughing and laughting together. She presses Jodie-collar around her neck. Should she have said that last? Anyway she can’t erase it — it is written in ink. And besides, she means it, she is wearing a bracelet on her. She
it warm rain pouring on her. She wishes she didn't have to go to class because she has to take the shoulder. The morning breeze is fresh and cool—like a lick upon her
Suddenly she cannot see. Someone is holding his hands over her eyes. She feels the rough tug of his arm sleeves against her cheek. Oh, who is
He takes his hands away. It is Bob who sits across from her in French. He has been standing behind her. Could he have read what she has been writing? No, she is sure he will not, but he is living beside her on the bench.
"Have your French lesson, Marsha? He smiles, and he is surprised that she doesn't have handsome handsome his in with his gray eyes that crinkle at the corners. And he is
"Of course, I haven't it. I—how can I study when the sun is so warm this in the daytime, and the moon is so distracting these spring nights?"
How delightfully he laughs. He sits down beside her, his hins in his knees, and he's glancing straight ahead of him, looking at nothing. Suddenly he laughs loudly.
"What excuse did you have last winter for not having your lesson, and what excuses will you have next year and the next?"
OFFICIAL UNIVERSITY BULLETIN
Vol. XXVIII
Sunday, 7 de Dec, 1930
No. 68
Then it is laughable—she is no more a thank to him. Well, he'd better go to class or he'd be late. She isn't in.
O-o-o-h! He won't answer him.
He will go when he sees that she doesn't care to speak to her. She stands handing his right foot. And what is that small—like to doache all through his clothes? She likes it. No, she doesn't. She hates
"Why do you buy books, little tan-gerine? Why do you waste your money?"
---
Why doesn't he go? Already the last straggling students are disappearing into the buildings. His light hair is dark and he isn't looking at the day, Albert's hair is dark. And now she can hardly remember what Albert looks like, except that he has brown hair and he can't put them together and she must not put them together all at. And . . . the gray eyes are crinkling at the corners again. Oh, if he will allow you so you can see him, he can tell Albert that no one, no one on this campus can interest her since she met him. She must mull it this way or he will not get it in time to come.
But this warm sunlight! She can't think, or study, or write, or . . . Oh, oh! She won't stand it any loner.
The Pre-Law association will meet Thursday, Dec. 11, at 7:30, in the Littleton Theater of Green hall. Eugene Nirdlinger and Tom Hayler will speak. At
Hero K. Z. L'Ecuyer.
"Why don't you go to class? Can't you see you're already late?" But I haven't my lesson, little tangle. See. I didn't even bring a book.
Funny, she didn't notice that before,
"If you weren't laughing at me, then
you would have been told all through his clothes!" She likes it.
"And of you don't have anything more important to do than going down
a hill and having a chocolate malt with me—"
He is standing up now, his hands in his pockets. He smiler at him, shuffling his feet through the grass. He doesn't even care whether she goes or not. There's nothing more important, really. Stucking, but what is "but?"
She walks along beside him. This day! "Let's go through the South Campus Gate." It's longer that way, and the sun is so warm, so warm. And she does not look back to see a girl in the courtyard inside the discarded French book—a folded piece of paper with a silly little black feather futtering up from it.
---
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Campus Comment
The boys who don't have heat in the morning when they get out of bed have landladdies who don't believe in firing until she sees the whites of their eyes.
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