UNDAY, MARCH 2, 1930
UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN, LAWRENCE. KANSAS
PAGE THREE
c
SOCIETY
Continued from page 11.
.
scholarship, and Betty, Peach the award for activity. A formal initiation dinner was held at the chapter house at 7 p.m.
The women who were initiated are: Carol Curt, Hutchinson, Marye Ossen, Humboldt, Margaret Schmitz, Humboldt, Marye Ossen, penceance; Mildred Shepherd, Pleasanton; Anne Arnett, Williamstown, Ruth Cushing, Concordia; Mary Egan, Karen Egan, Henton, Baldwin; Therine Kluge, Hertington; Laurile王国, Kansas City; Helen Kinsey, Lawnweiser; Nilson Sampieri, and Lola Moore; Paul
Alumnae who were present for the initiation and dinner were: Mrs. La Verne Brumbaugh Stever, Mrs. B.L.S.I. Kaitlyn City,介于华盛顿市; Amy Linn Beigts Ingrahta, Lila Martin Quinn, Margaret Hovey, Mrs. N., K. Woodward; Paula Cost, Elizabeth Devon, Simone McCarthy, Simontecus, Kansas City; Dr. Graber, Hutchinson; Lois Lind Topeka; Pauline Christian, Excl Springs; Helen Rhoda Hooves, Eleanor and Eather, John Lawrence.
Chi Omega announces the 6th
Saturday, March 1, of the four
women. Kathryn Hayes, PGA
Professional, Hervé Herzentiel,
Kanamia City; Marja Mackie,
Scammon; Linaquier Qua-
rion; Dorie Ditchie, Otto
Müller; Doris Schwartz, Fran-
ces Schwarzt, Osborne; Mihay
Hayes, Olmery; Mary Jean Seil
Miller; Sylvain Leclerc; El-
Dorado; Margarete Wellstein
Elkhorst; Veronika Fuscher, Top
Eurasian Lawn and Margaret M
Quirk, and Thelma Chuntz; and
Thelma Horn, Lailah
Phi Kappa fraternity initi seven men yesterday afternoon o'clock. They were Robert Pifl of Glaso; Charles Deginger, of Joseph; William Sharkey, of Chie Lloyd Cawood; of Johnshe, of Stephen; William Stainel Topokin; Edwin Malley, of Kalu-kan; Kan.
The Delta Sigma Lambda fraternity nets a party that might atch a chapter home. D. Aumbert Hald, associate professor of music, the chaperones incite M., D. O. Running, Mrs. Jane Kirk, J., H. Kramer, and M. Kova Octavio.
The following guests were pre-
Clifton Calvin, Cornetin Cablin,
Rhonda Rendles, John Baum,
Dennis Dan Coughnell, and Arbil
Ki Pappa Alpha announces theitation of the following two inlays by yesterday morning. Carrie Smith, a yearly member of Galesburg, IL; Will Hagmann and Janne Burcham, of Galesburg, IL; William Shank, and John Shimling, of Hustle John Landes, of Tuscaloosa; Richard Shank, and John Shimling, of Hustle John Landes, of Tuscaloosa; Richard Shank, and John Shimling, of Hustle John Landes, of Tuscaloosa; Richard Shank, and John Shimming, of Hustle John Landes, of Tuscaloosa; Richard Shank, and John Shimming, of Hustle John Landes, of Tuscaloosa; Richard Shank, and John Shimming, of Hustle John Landes, of Tuscaloosa; Richard Shank, and John Shimming, of Hustle John Landes, of Tuscaloosa; Richard Shank, and John Shimming, of Hustle John Landes, of Tuscaloosa; Richard Shank, and John Shimming, of Hustle John Landes, of Tuscaloosa; Richard Shank, and John Shimming, of Hustle John Landes, of Tuscaloosa; Richard Shank, and John Shimming, of Hustle John Landes, of Tuscaloosa; Richard Shank, and John Shimming, of Hustle John Landes, of Tuscalo莎
A large number of alumni and faculty of the fraternity were present at the ceremony as today is also sixy-second anniversary of the four Founders' day. Founder Day, day began will be tonight at the chapter house.
Alpha Kappa Lambda entertain with an all-sports party last night their house. The decorations and co
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Official Weekly Calendar March 2 to 8
2 p.m. Women's Glee club rehearsal - Marvin Hall
4 Oregon University - Medford, Metropolitan
4:30 p.m. Debate. Debates here: central Administration and/orfee-
nance *5* Pine Arts,局首级 recital - central Administration and/orfee-
nance *6* Pine Arts,局首级 recital
Sunday March 2
Monday, March 3
Tuesday, March 4
2:10 pm, Dual practice—central Administration auditorium.
4:30 University Senate—central Administration auditorium.
W 6.S.G.A., regular meeting and super-central Administration reor-
7:50 McDonald's client meeting—control Administration and调度
8:15 W. Grace, meet with secretary and administrator—Marshall hall
9:25 H. White, meet with secretary and administrator—Marshall hall
Wednesday March 5
3 p.m. Make club meeting—central Administration auditorium.
720 W.S.G.A. ten—central Administration rest room.
720 Daskistallu, Miyumura, here—Auditorium.
720 Mice's club member recruited—Maryann ball.
825 "Love in a Mist" by Dramatic ball—Lilie Deuster, Fessel ball.
825 W.M.G.A. ten—central Administration rest room.
Don't Miss Out-calm sea. Dreaming and swaying to the rhythm of the imaginary ocean, the old man grew weary as he thought of the life he had led when a boy. He wondered how he could cope with such a hard life, it just took to think of a
THE MAGAZINE SECTION OF THE UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN
PAGE TWO
Woman of Andros
By Thornton Wilder A. and C. Boni. 1930
Reviewed by Margaret Kilbourne
"The Woman of Andrew" is an idyl. One feels it is more of an idyll than the "Catalan" or the Bridge of San Luis Rey, although they gave the reader the same feeling of remoteness to their world. It is important for us as to hold the reader intrigued to see if, for so much a moment, the spell will not be broken and the faith reality which tinges the work under its idyllic quality will not dominate it. The book presents the brief space of a play, puppets who are curiously enacting, in a setting which the reader has almost forgotten since his schooldays impressions of the Odyssey, the same problem which, he now understands, goes on long as to represent whatever is universal of life.
Wilder took his plan for the book from the earliest comedy of Terence, "Andria," changing the events and ending of the story. His treatment has given something as simple, starkly classic in its impression, as a Greek play. The story opens, about the boy's love for the girl of his village, Bernos. Almost immediately is brought into the story the foreshadowing of Chrysis, the Woman of Andros. She has come to the village an alien, bringing with her a feeling for philosophy, music, drama —subjects distrusted by the villagers. Among her following of young men of the village, who meet with her each evening for long discussions, Pamphilis is the hero. Her scenes a difference about him she struggles for understanding life, and wants to help him.
--calm sea. Dreaming and swaying to the rhythm of the imaginary ocean, the old man grew weary as he thought of the life he had led when a boy. He wondered how he could cope with such a hard life, it just took to think of a
Chrysis is more than a little of the "outer woman." Says Wilder, "It was her business to be invested with the remoteness and glamour of the ages." She sees life impersonally as the struggling of the people about her, even as her own struggling. She knows that when she meets between Pantilimba and her younger sister, she says, "I suppose there is no god—we must do these things ourselves. We must drag ourselves through life the best we can." But she has lived long enough to have perfected her own philosophy of life, and dying, says Chrysis, as much as one who loved all things and accepted from her the gods all things the bright and the dark."
DISILLUSIONED
I wrote "Finish" to chapter one
Long ago.
I just not finished chapter two.
Could I know
What the following pages hold
I might try
Leaving the book unfinished,
And just die.
And it is the spirit which Chrysus has given him which motivates Pamphilus in his later struggle, which finally emerges in him triumphant. "The moonlight is intermittent; it is dim, but he has heart suddenly declared to him that a sun would rise and before that sun the timidity and the hesitation would disappear—and he laughed because he had been so long blind to what was obvious." At the end of the book, one feel that he is just beginning to repeat with the same lesson. "I praise all living, the light and the dark."
The story, to read, is delightful with Wilder's quiet artistry. The only critical which it seems, could be made is that of the critic for the *Atlantic Monthly*, "Somehow," he says, "draughts we drink from his books are--rather sweet and even syrupy. Let the ancient gods when he fabled in the *Canaan*" (1904) describe him, who already is so richly identified, another gift, the gift of "passion!"
--calm sea. Dreaming and swaying to the rhythm of the imaginary ocean, the old man grew weary as he thought of the life he had led when a boy. He wondered how he could cope with such a hard life, it just took to think of a
An Old Man
Night came and the stars shone through the blue mist which hung over the quiet village. The water splashed on its unceasing course, down the hillside slope, leaving the town behind and running on and on, seeking adventure. The air was haly and still. Frogs frogged their legs as Frog croaked in the marshes nearby. The moon reflected upon an old man lying by a stream outside of Valkan. A bound hayed in the distance. All was quiet. Life seemed so distant and intangible, yet so near. One hunter led to live on and on and on. He lay on the river by the creek, bent with care and gray with a sleep, and the stream of water trickled on and on.
—Roberta Lee.
Young Man of Manhattan
By Katharine Brush Farrar Rinehart, 1930
Katharine Brush "basks the mirror up to nature" in her third and latest novel, and though she writes with more of a journalistic dash than is evident in her second novel, it still accounts of account of living people. Reality is its keynote—a piercing, inevitably reality that makes the sufferings of its young literary author somehow very vital.
Miss Brush tells the story of Toby McLean, sports writer for the New York Star, and Anvaughn, who "did movies for the *Chronicle Press*. They meet in a torrential rain storm after a price hike and move to New York before they are not quite settled in their small, ideal apartment before their troubles begin. Both have aspirations for a literary career. Ann is more successful and is soon earring more than Toby. Characterizes her life as a lawyer is higher and though he tries to reform, his succumption easily. Characteristicly wiley reaction.
Toby reluctantly leaves on his first sport trip since their marriage, but when he joyfully returns, he is greeted by an empty apartment. A man out in dressing with an coiffed. Toby cannot unsee him. Toby allows himself to try to drag back into the night club and keep him out till 5 a.m. Kisses in the interm. Ann cannot understand Toby. Toby has financial difficulties and Ann pays the long-overdue bills. Characteristic family reaction. All this is climaxed. Ann tries to play a part in the life of his young sophistication and Ann catches him lying about it. Ann depends to Hollywood to do a series of articles. Toby for Florida for his baseball season. Both are terribly in love with each other, even more misunderstood, and both are too serious of the other and too proud to do anything certain of it all.
Methyl alcohol finally brings them together.
Miss Brush delicately her characters defy, surely and yet with restraint. Her few, intimate, well-chosen detail paints her people more clearly than long descriptions. Her dramatic scenes are thrilling and have much to offer, especially is striking. Toby has a long-distance call in the midst of an uproaringly drunken party.
"Watching him, it was impossible that he had been unprarious, imane, a moment ago. His insolenty resemblance to the boy was shocking."
"Now all at once the room was still, perfectly still. Something was hurrying Toby's eyes, suddenly making his big hands holding the telephone shake out and calling for help. The room; crushed over the telephone, bent as a man bout with mortal physical pain. 'How' he house, frantastic voice she silence, 'Fellow how?'
"There was a little almost inadmissible stir all over the room of the straining forward that was controlled. Nobody really moved. They waited. Sober. Figures of stone, with live cigarettes dying slowly in their fingers. Only the lips of one or two men were visible. The word they had heard, unwary that they did so."
"Another instant's hush. Then there was a sound from him, something like a sob, something like an ach, choked down, and terrible to hear. He tried to speak, and could not; wrenched himself away from Shorty, who would have spoken for him; tried again. "How—had it is?"
"Toby's voice again; 'What? I can't—"
"Shorty turned upon the room again, and everyone one looked at him. He was closer to Toby, closer to this catastrophe than they. He was even suffering. Swetat stood on his forehead. He motioned him forward. He took his eyes with his eyes he begged for Toby this small kindness. "We better clear out; Chris Hanley said, low, to the rest. Unnecessarily. They realized, for themselves; and they went. Some near the door went first, and they followed, flocking slowly, to tipping, trying not to tread on the crunching glass in
--ports,
ings,
very-
rsity
"In America law and custom alike are based on the dreams of spinners"; Bertkard Russell in *The Art of War* (1943).
Here Comes the Bride
By Genevieve Bero
She hiked her eyes determentally on the long strip of white muslin that sturdyly壁ied ahead of her, with a smile. "I'll look at you in an eye as I look at anyone else she felt their eyes turned toward her. She felt rather queer and transubstantial."
The faces in the church pew began to blur together in an indistinct mass. She couldn't see them very well anyway for the pillars of flowers along the pews. How remote and unreal they seemed! Even John, whose arm was clutching so frankly, looked down at her. This caotous white aile and the white robe red girl walking down it trailing a long white veil. Both the girl and the allee were intensely, pulishing real.
She hadn't gone a tenth of this site yet, perhaps she could hurry a little—just a little—without its being noticed. She just couldn't burgle John thought, he moved more slowly than the music.
A June wedding was near than an October one. She was glad that she and Creighton had been able to persuade Mother that they couldn't wait until October. She wished that their powers of personal service would be extended, but private wedding would have been better. Her children would be allowed to choose their own manner of being married, even if they wanted it done at the street-car terminal. Her children—but she mustn't
There was fully three-fourths of this long side left, and she had been walking hours!
She really was remote and far away from everyone. She hasn't she read somewhere that people in crowds lost their individuality? Then the only individuals in the whole church were she and the little girl, and they were in front of her, and the little group waiting for her at the altar. Unless you could count the little flower girl and the ring bearer. But they were too intentful that they were doing to be anything but automated.
Almost halt way down the alce. What a relief? Did every bride feel this way?
The crevice swish and rug of her veil and shirts behind her were delightful. How grand and sharply cut the garments, I thought, were them. It probably helped them maintain their dignity. Was the strip of muslin wide enough for her veil? It was so细腻 it would be a pity to call her "bald." I think about that, though—it might make her nervous.
Marriage and all that it meant is a frightening thing anyway—but she mustn't think of that either. She had been told that he had promised to strip them of their thorns, but he must have overlocked a few. How did the lilies of the valley fall down against her white skin? They could small them. Their insurance was so thin.
She wondered if Creighton had a headache, Mariel had called her up last night to tell her she had been that Creighton had get almost drunk that morning and she told me it all came in a lash. She had told Mariel she didn't creighton. She wished she could too. She knew the strain on him. Public weddings were damnable nuisances. She felt like a dressed up clown, a princess, or a nice flower mess, but then of all was a sweetly sweet one.
She could smell the orange blossoms in the cape of her vell. Their scent was so sweet it seemed sticky. Reminded one of dried orange juice on one's skin, she clung to the clinging perfumes. Generally they made her sick.
She was almost there. The alter was a ballow of flowers. She had got a good biorist. The gold and white blossoms against the green foliage made one feel comfortable and kind of sollen. She hoped she wouldn't stumble up the step of the channel, She had rehearsal, or did one call it practice? She had a small table with wood on the channel get? But she mustn't think of that—that might make her nervous.
Ah, she was through the gate beautifully.
The men were looking at her. Creighton, poor boy, was trying to look ravished with delight, but only succeeded in looking terribly nervous. She would wink at him solemnly when no one else was.
John was looking wonderfully like the occasion. Having been married three times, himself, he probably knew all the fine points. He had been so pleased when she had asked him to give her away at the altar. Her mother hadn't minded having John either. For divorced people they got on together beautifully. He looked too young to be her mother. Mother looked too young, too when she was going out.
It was all done, thank God. That nightmare of an aisle was behind her. The ceremony would be short, too. But the reception afterwards would be more difficult; you mustn't think of that. It might make her nerves.
Kansan
C
ENT
Kansan
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BOR AND I WERE
LISTENING TO A RADIO
DANCE PROGRAM FROM
THERE AND WE PHONED
IN TWO REQUEST
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