SUNDAY, MAY 18, 1920
UNIVERSITY DAILY-KANSAN, LAWRENCE, KANSAS
PAGE THREE
SOCIETY
Dorsis Mason and Thomas Cox, a docta, were married Thursday evening at the Congregational church at his home. Mrs. Cox was a student in the University in 1928 and in the daughter of Emily A. Foster on Lincoln street. Mr. Cox received his A.B. degree from the University and then attended Delta, Delta professional legal fraternity. Mr. and Mrs. Cox will make their home in Wichita, KS, in an able manager of the Wichita College.
Phi Delta Theta held its annual Spring rush party at eagle's Hall last night with Hal Stokes' orchestra, of Kansas City, alving.
the chaperons were Mrs. Belle Wil-
mot, of the Pi Kappa Alphie house;
Ms. J. Lisk, of the Delta Upsilon
house; Ms. D. Sole, of the Delta
SigmaLambda house.
Flowers and ferns were arranged on a workite room in a garden scene at the house of the conductor, Ethel Eckes at Ekee's hall. Hub Else and his orchestra, featuring Don Burrell,奏者; Ben Tuck, the bassoonist; and others were Mrs. T. S. Stoyer, housemother; Mrs. Jane Maude, of the Piano Machine; Mrs. Eileen, of the Piano machines, of the Pi Gamma Delta house and Mrs. Nina Ogden, of the Beta Theta
The chaperones were: Mrs. Jemil Mitchell, of the Pi Upian house; Mrs Frances Godell of the Alpha Chi Omega house; and Mr. Sigman Alpha Epsilon house.
Pi Upson held its spring rush party at the Country club last night. Spin flowers were used in the decoration of a concert, and members of the orchestra played from 9 until 12.
Out of town guests included: Robert Thomas, Robert Monroe, Jawful Flugel, Michael McGarry, Lyon, Lyon, of Larsed; Fred Benson, Walter Ot, and James Seeker, of Kansas City.
Phi Beta Pi, professional medical fraternity, gave an informal party at the house last evening from 9 until 12. Jade's orchestra played for the dancing
the chaperons were; Mrs. S. L. Wil-
bechon, of the Pha Kappa house; Mr.
Wilberdon, of the Crescent House;
lyn Thomas, Beta Pi house mother;
Jay Howard, of Kansas City, was an
educator.
Alpha Kappa Lambda entertained with an informal party at the chapter house last night from 9 to 12. Baskets of flowers were used for decorations. Scheduled and his orchestra from Ottawa trailed music for dancing.
The chaperones were Mrs. Elizabeth Edwards, of the Theta Phi Alba house; and Mrs. Martha Gerteaud, of the Alpha Xi Delta house; and Mrs. Margaret Neptun
The out of town guests include: Miss Pearl Procter, Miss Martha Lou Bullock, Miss Dale Ballack, and Miss Connery Culter of Kunung City, Mariejie Woods of Jamaica, Miss Mead Bead, and Debbert Roberts of Topkka; and Wayne Birk of Jabaroo.
The Kansas City alumnae chapter of Alpha Gamma Delta will hold initiation for the seniors of the undergrad chapter at the house this afternoon.
Valera Goffredon, of the Alpha
Gamanna Delta house, and Kenneth Mc-
Murray, of the Theta Tum house, aro
m Miss Goffredon, in Greenleaf,
of Miss Goffredon.
Alpha Gamma Delta entertained its graduating members with a luncheon at the chapter house yearboard at daytime, then spent the afternoon with a gift. The seniors are Evelyn Babb, Lucie Christie, Helen Easen, Daisy Runbush, Katherine Bellennere, Dorothy Cochrun, Jane Smith, Vakara and Lois McNeal. Marcel Nead, and Lois McNeal.
Business and Professional DIRECTORY
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The lodge of the Gamma Phil Betra house was converted into a Palm Beach summer resort as the background for the film. The dinner was served to the guests at $30, and the remainder of the evening was with his orchestra played.
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Out of town guests at the Alpha Omega Fori spring party Friday evening at the chapter house were. Mr. and Mrs. Engene Cayot, Miss Bernice Pevine, Ms. Kathryn Fryer, Elizabeth Fryer, Ellsworth Burrows, Clifton Calvin, and George Fell, of Kansas City, Miss Lasalle Label, of Walken, Edward Volker, of Denton
The out-of-town guests were: Miss Katherine Huston and Miss Theo Borth Morgan, Wichita; Mrs. Mary Peldman, Omaha; Mrs. Tiffany Brown; Mrs. Edward Gibbons, of Dallas Texas; Miss Lois Linscoe, of Topeka; Mr. and Mrs. Den Hartley; Mrs. Susan Martin Dickinson, Dousett Henderson, and Ms. Pauline Christian, of Kansas City; Miss Katherine Bruce of Pasla; Miss Kathleen Brice of Columbus; Miss Mildred Schmitt, of Columbia, Mo.
1025 Mass.
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Dealers in Wallpaper and Paints
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713 Mass. House Bldg. Phone 395
HARLEY DAVIDSON MOTORCYCLES
New and Used
KNOLES BICYCLE SHOP
Phone 913 1014 Mass.
remain in Lawrence to visit with friends for a few days.
In the dining and grill rooms of the Eldridge hotel a formal dinner and cocktail reception followed by the Delta Zeta sorority. The chapereaux wore Mrs. Margaret Parkins, her husband, Mr. William Fletcher and Mr. Henry Wuerner, Mrs. J. E Harwood, mothermae, Ms. Margaret Parkins and Mrs. Terry Soberin of Kansas City, Kanu. Freedick Moreau, and T. Tracy Ster伯森 of Kansas City, Kanu.
Don Denalo and his orchestra of Kansas City, played for the dancing. The out-of-town guests were Miss Monica Brown and Miss Karen Brown and Kenrod Miller, of Kansas City; Miss Mia Wright and Leaweworth; Miss Rosa Funk; Miss Winifred Wimpinb, Miss Pauline Parker, and Miss Maxine Morgan, of South Dakota.
Want Ads
FOR SALE. Remington portable type-
writer. In good condition. Phon
7599M. —18
LOST. Leather jacket and shoe on
tennis courts last Wednesday. Re-
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LOST: White gold rimmed glasses in rest room on first floor, east Ad. Cali.
800. — 184.
FOR RENT: Partially furnished four-
room duplex, strictly modern. Nea-
University. Phone 2145 R before room
103
LOST: Black leather glaze case containing rimless glasses and other articles. Find caller 2453. —184.
WANTED: Typing thesis, term papers, and outlines. Phone 2395-187
FOR RENT: Modern 8 room house at
1213 Ohio. Mrs. Anna Olinger, Phone
904. —185
LOST: Small Hildegr alver pin, Tuesday on Campus. Mary Cornelius Reward. Phone 830.
nishings, Special price on silk hosiery. Call Davis at 2518 J. —387.
WILL THU person who saw the incident at 9th and Kentucky at 3 o'clock Friday, May 9th, please call 563.—184.
CALL: Mrs. Annel Buick at 124 (407 Main Street) for all kinds of plum or fancy dressmaking, alterations, or hematism at 106 a yead. — 184.
Get your cards for invitations at the Dale Shop—Printed, Engraved or Embroider—Adv.
Sunday Noon and Evenings
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Stationery.
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35c
KANSAS
THE MAGAZINE SECTION OF THE UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN
PAGE TWO
Prairie Rain
Prairie Rain
Contained from 1920 on
I'll make you something to eat."
Godfard Wakefield slowly unhersed the ponds. He did not however, take cats from the barrel. He had noticed a thin, bean cow, drinking from a crude wooden tank, her feet sank deep in the mire of a marshy apron in front of the house. There could not be an abundance of grain. His ponies could wait. Alter he had tethered them, so that they might graze for the night, he went again to the house.
It was all one room, with the lean-to curtained off with dingy calico. A small table, standing in the center, was the only real piece of furniture. The chairs had been constructed out of old boxes. Even the tables were made from wooden planks that were supported above an open fire place. The flue was faulty; and thin smoke filled the room.
The woman seemed disinclined to talk. While he was eating the food prepared for him, she busied herself nervously. Once, she asked about a family that had moved to the Fort; and again about the meetings at Roy. But nothing more. And the old minister did not ask more.
When the meal was completed, the woman took one of the two small oil lamps which lighted the room, and pulling back the curtain to the lean-to, showed her a very beautiful dinner plate that she was giving him the most comfortable place in the house. Had she been almost any other person, he would have demanded that she, herself, occupy it. But there was an almost traditional deensiness in the house; the man, and as such must have the very best she could offer.
The bed was a bulky grass mattress supported by four large wooden blocks. Covering it was a bright blanket of Indian weave. One tiny picture, a prairie scene sketched on a rough square of wood, in dull and getalde herb colors, hung directly above the pit-wide side of the bed. There was something of a surrender about the place—even more so, when the lamp had been turned down all the way. The beams of light that filtered through the cloth bangings to form queer and ever-changing patterns.
The next morning, the minister was awakened by a light knocking. He immediately arched and denounced his worn coat—the only article of apparel he had removed for the night. When he pushed back the curtain, the found the woman standing outside. In the brightness of early morning, she seemed even more old—and yet, she had the night to待. Old—and yet, her hands were drawn with coarse wrinkles.
"I wake you?" she asked, timidly. "I'm sorry."
"But you didn't!" the old man said. "Is there some- thing wrong?"
For a moment, the woman hesitated. Then, "No. It ain't that the wires on the pasture has been cut—norn'thern' like that. It's just that I wanted to ask you something. I didn't sleep last night and I walked clear over to the sandhills this morning. You—you're the first person who did not ask me about myself. The very first person who did not ask me about yourself. You treated me just like I was as good as you. And I want to ask you if—if you bapei me taut. I ain't worried it—I know it. But it ain't all my fault that I'm like I am. And I know it would help me to be better." Her face was pitiful—her lips twitched—her mouth. "And—and you bapei my baptism to you."
"Of course. I'll baptise you," the aged minister answered quietly.
as it happened, this was not Geddard Wakefield's last trip, after all. When he arrived at the Fort that same afternoon, he immediately went to the study of Joshua, who had been a minister in Bishop, in which he asked—in fact begged—to be allowed to stay on in the district. He did not desire to retain his presiding office. He wanted only to re-enter.
And so, just as the sun arose that morning, Goddard Wakefield baptised the woman in the crude wood water tank on the edge of the marshy spring in front of the sun-bleacher, one room sod house.
The woman's face brightened. "Oh!" she said, "mud won't you do it the old-fashioned way like they used to? The new way may be all right—iain't sayin'—but the other—more of seems better to—"
Within the following two weeks, he received a return message. His name was to be placed on the "superannounced list." As far as the Church was concerned, it was to be considered that he had retired; but he could continue in the field, if he wished. So the old man started cut again with the two feet docked at the hip and put them into position for the first time to go where he would; and for the last years more, he kept on with his work on the plank.
One spring morning, when mild rain was falling gently on the parched paddy soil, the adobe house of the B-Ar U-Kampel was asit. The afternoon before, Goddard Wakefield had held services in the kitchen
Young Mrs. Greeley
Emboldened by his fame as a man who understands the intricacies of feminine psychology, Booth Tarkington ventures to present here two such detailed explanations for why feminists are in effect the dullness of a sociological case study. At least, when one settles down to a novel, it is disconcerting to have to dig out what plot there is from under a mass of editorial comment on the vagaries of women in general as applied to the heroine in particular.
By Booth Tarkington Doubleday, Doran and Company Reviewed by Stella Brookway
Even if the bewildered young Mr. Greecy never did know what it was all about, and realized even less than the reader that there was the markings of a story does history on the first page and quit on the last.
From the first it is apparent that young Mrs. Greeley is beautiful and very dumb. We are told that her mind was like a little sand pile under a sieve; whatever was of any weight or size was rejected by the sieve and only the tiniest and most inexpensive particles came through. But she aided and abetted by her husband, and she was known as she is sufficiently ingenious to sky-rocket her husband through a business career in spite of himself.
Now it happens that Mr. Greylex is very capable, and each recognition of his ability made by his firm, Mrs. Greylex takes unto herself as a personal triumph. She at length builds up such a grand and complicated set of delusions and symbols, that she begins to leave out all consideration of her husband. She tries to keep her situation tight-wrapped and his attempts to talk the situation over with her end by her going into wild turtles.
Booth Tarketing, the humorist, comes to the rescue of Booth Tarketing, the psychologist, just in time to prevent tragic consequences. Mr. Greeley's competent and "cool-eyed" secretary creeks the foolishness of his own previous several pages of well-choose words brings the proud one into a state of humbleness previously unknown.
Of all this, the young husband knows nothing. He only knows that something has happened. He is simply precipitated from one mystery into another, and it brings him to say in the concluding paragraph,
"Ah well, I guess I can get along without knowing every last thing about everything."
THE CLOUD
A small cloud came from the east at dawn;
From the misty east and dim;
And a tiny flush spread over it soft
In the glow of the morning's rim.
A silver argyre of dreams
It spreads its silver sails.
In the noon-sun's radiation hot and bright
它 glinted on mountains and vales.
In the purple-gray灰ed of the evening's glow
In the last pale gleams of the sun
It counted the stars as they came into view
In the heavens, one by one.
It greeted the moon as she rose in the sky
With her bow, and quiver, and crest;
Then, sinking into its ocean bed,
It went to sleep in the west.
It had been intensely warm, and in the evening, all the people of the ranch had gathered on the little buffalo-grass court back of the house. Four of the cowboys helped the old man with a "song service."
Josephine Wheeler.
Then, the next morning, when Moses, the old Indian cook, went to call the minister for breakfast, she found that during the night he had become very ill. She knew at once that he was dying, and would have rushed to call others of the household, had he not spoken to her.
"Mikegua!" he said quickly, "it'sraining, isn't it? . . . . . . . . . I thought it would yesterday. I like the rain. Mikegua, it's cool rain, rain." There was excitement within, but outside, the quiet pastures were through the foggy night, the great pastures appeared more green. All the prairie straddled strongly refreshed
Goethe and Fredericke
By Margaret Hill
On a warm August day in the year 1771, Frederick Brion walked in her uncle's garden on the bank of the river Ill. She had promised to meet the young学生, Goethe, there at five o'clock. Her heart stirred with anticipation, but also with distress, for she was one of the students plotted his studies at the University of Strasburg, and was planning to return that night, to his home in Leipse.
Fredericke passed beneath an orange tree to gaze at the city of Strasbourg across the river. Cathedral spires pointed skyward through the base of summer trees, and she watched a clock. The air with the melted tollings of the hour of four, and she watched the mechanical procession of tiny crucible disciples file past the staircase.
A friendly breeze rippled the water below her, and teased the fullness of the yellow gown. Turning northward, she followed a path along the river's edge, passing new and then to glance at the clock or watch the white promemore that led down to the river from the university grounds. He had said, 'I will be with you on this trip.' She said he did. She thought back over the months that he had been near her; long afternoons of sunshine in her uncle's garden, with the young scholar by her side. He was to alive to the world about him, and so learned. Wondered why he had chosen her companionship in this great city of contemporary scholars—she, a simple girl of sixteen, daughter of a country pastor. He read to her bits of his writings, and his mother took them with him, and enthusiastically held them until appraisals, but he never spoke of any close affection for her.
She leaned against a stone column of the summer house, a sigh slipping from her throat. It was going to be difficult—this parting, and she wondered if he would feel the loss that was already desolating her heart. She knew it was one of their year of relationship. He had brought her his researches and his own efforts, that she might listen quietly, and encourage him. She could do little to help him, she was so incapable of meeting the depth of his mind. He was becoming recognized by the whole literary youth of Germany for his far-scoring exploits into the political advancements of his nation. He was a philosopher, a small school, but he also realized that he loved her.
She was startled by the toiling of the Strasbourg clock once more. It was the hour of five—the shadows were growing longer, and he had not come. Lifting her skirt from her feet, she hurried back to the river's edge. The white promenade was empty. She stood again beneath the orange tree waiting for Goethe.
An hour passed, and the clock told. Her motionless form, her yellow gown, moulded itself into the picture on the river's edge. Her fair hair and shouldered hands, she lifted them over her eyes. Her strained eyes to see the beloved figure coming to her. Her hands claped before her until the white knuckles stood out in a double ridge. More than an hour later, she slipped down and had not come. Fredericke wondered if it were possible for him to forget. Her numbed muscles began to revolt at their strained positions, and she stilled to the tree. Leaving wearily against it, she closed her
A soft voice startled her.
"I have you waited long, my dear friend?"
the troubled lines.
She lifted her worn face to his and a smile crossed the troubled lines.
"Why were you so long?" she asked steadily, "was afraid that you would not come at all."
His eyes gleamed with new intensity, and Fredric moved closer to his tail, handmade form. She
"What is it? What has made you so glad?" she asked, breathlessly.
He led her from beneath the shadow of the blossoms, and held a heavy manuscript up for her to see. "My play is completed," he announced joyfully, "courteous." And in the happiest man in all Germany—in the world!
He guided her back and forth along the path, reliving parts of his liberties, and telling her easily, eagerly, about everything.
Her tired body leaused more and more heavily upon his arm, but he talked on, unaware of the added weight. She smiled brightly at him from time to time, and she remained waiting at her heart for words that never came.
When he realized that duck had come, he left her, promising to send her one of the first prints. He never saw her again, although he remembered her in this life, as he would remember a very dear cousin.
Fredericke Briken followed closely the famed curler Johann Wolfgang Goethe, and died years later, in 1780.
Banners, Blankets
ok Stores
lands
iscount
ON
Monday
thru
Wednesday
ASCREAM!
with that funny team—
POLLY MORAN
MARIE
DRESSLER
in the Laughing Panic—
.