SUNDAY, JANUARY 19. 1930
UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN, LAWRENCE, KANSAS
PAGE THREE
A
K. U. Alumni Clubs Will Have Meetings in Many Large Cities Kansas Day Will Be Celebrated; Other Special Programs in February
Charles Strickland, '14, and Lowell Grad, '28, and their live-wire Chicago Jayhawks have the bigest, the most critically patented by Kansas Tollins in the "Windy City." It will be held at the University of Kansas where Lindley will be the main speaker. The toastmaster is J. N. Vander Vries, who was a member of the faculty of the university's new manager of the north Central division of the United States chamber of commerce. Harry G. Clark, L.I.B. 794, was president of the Rock Island railway, and Martin Creager, A.B. 094, wrote editing author of the Milwaukee Journal.
Under unspouses of the far-far-
 Jayhawk club of Kansas City, MF comes to the annual athletic dhilel for the Kansas City star athletes of the Kansas City, M high school. It is to be held at 11 a.m., Spring 15, 117, in charge.
The Kansas alumni in New York have moved the date of their annual meeting which is usually held I April up to Feb. 28 this year. The team will be at the three-course supper later if the evening and is to be at the S Regis hotel, 50th and Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, and all former residents of Kansas livin in or near Minneapolis will occur on usual Jan. 22. It will be held in a room at the University of Minnesota room. Eugene Albert, 97, and A. L. H Street, 1987, will speak. John LaHp, A.B. 97, at 803 Plymouth build the H Street, is secretary of the U offhill
Sunflower state representatives © the vicinity of Boston will do well be present at the Kansas day meek here Jan, 25 from 6 to 11:30 AM on Wednesday. The wealth avenue. Since Lawrence Kan, was really started in Boston 7 years ago, the Kansas folks then plan to celebrate the founding © Lawrence. Bibop W. A., Lawrence Bibop mann P. P., Campbell wlack.
At Boulder, Cobo, A. W. Logan, 2 is getting up a meeting for Jan. 3 or 27. At Powell, Wyo., Melvin Earl is getting up a meeting for the retardation of Jayhawkers the evening of Jan. 28. The next K.U. celebrate will be at Seattle, Wash., Feb. 16. At Stanford, Calif., building and August Hall Kempe '01, at Roosevelt high school, law charge. At Portland, Ore., a gathering is set for noon or evening at Crookman, g'13, at the Oregon Journal, is helping make arrangement. The San Francisco and vicinity grow up. At Woolsey, Wichita, W. Copley, g'03, Crocker First National Bank building, is head of f'14. K.U. Club in San Francisco, Tioga County
Fail to Find Van Eilson
Moscow, Jan. 18—(UP)—The fright Soviet attempts to verify the report that Capt. Katsina had hanced lance with a river river river coast of Siberia have failed, Jecroson and Harold Gilmore premise that a report from the Ang�eva River area after receiving a report that Capt. Galileo Gibellini world had been seen见目
Business and Professional DIRECTORY
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BUTLER MOTORS
BUTTLER MOTORS
Willys Knight and Whipstick Cars
G-4 Used Cars
617-19 Mass. Car
THE CHARLI TONNIES, AGENCY
We Protect and Serve You so that you May Render Service.
Phone 6893 Insurance Bldg
FIRST CLASS BARBER SHOP
BOB STEWART
838 Mass. Lawrence, Kan
Sheet Metal Work and Farnaces
E. W. PENCHARD
Roating - Lighting Aughts
Phone 245 13 Eighth St. BA
LAWRENCE OPTICAL COMPANY
Eye Glass Excavation
1025 Mass.
MODERN SHOP SHOP
J. A. LYONS 8361 Mass. Lawrence, Kan.
FRANK H. LESCHER
SHOE REPAIRING
812% Mass.
Phone 250
FRANK H. LESCHER
SHOE REPAIRING
812½ Mass. Phone 254
GOOD & RICHARDS
Dealers in Wallpaper and Paints
In Liquor and Wine
Ph. 620 Office Depot 290-207 W. 8th
H. W. HUTCHINSON
DENTIST
713 Mass. House Bride Phone 399
HAIRDLEY DAVIDSON MOTORCYCLES
Rides and Wagons
KNOELS BICYCLE SHOP
Phone 915 1014 Mass.
KAHN GARAGE
General Auto Repairing and Refinishing
Authorized Harrison Radiator Station
Harrison Radiator Station
704 Max. Rentals Phone 500
An informal party carrying out the ten of an ice carpool was held in celebration of the game, followed after the basketball games. All students of the University were invited to participate.
SOCIETY
704 Mass. Phone 502
The program consisted of a skating waltz by Louise Allen and Dorothy Fleckmanen, accordion music and choreography, tap dance, tap dance, Lois Smith and Dorothy Bella Bryant, and blues songs by Bob Dylan. Radio music, games and dancing furnished amusement for the remainder of the evening. The decorations and costumes of the entertainers were based on the whole party the spirit of winter.
Theta Sigma Phi, honorary journalism sorcerity, bid initiation services in the skyarker of the journalism building yesterday afternoon.
Coming Musical Events
Jan, 22, joint senior recital, Virginia Nelson, pianist; Lois Rush, pianist, central Administration, 8 p.m.
Jan. 21, advanced student recital central Administration, 8 n.p.m.
Coming Musical Events
Jan. 26, vesper organ recital, University Auditorium, 4 p.m.
versity Auditorium, 4 p.m.
Feb. 9, vesper organ recital, University Auditorium, 4 p.m.
verity Auditorium, 4 p.m.
Feb. 2. veaper organ recital, Uni
Feb. 2, vesper organ recital, Uni versity Auditorium, 4 p.m.
Feb. 12, University concert course,
Vladimir Horowitz, pianist, University
auditorium, 8:20 p.m.
Feb. 16, Fine Arts all-musical vessers, University Auditorium, 4 p.m.
Feb. 10, 6 p.m. Fine Arts hall-musician,
University Auditorium, 4 p.m.
Feb. 23, vesper recital, Phil Mu Alche-
 University Auditorium, 4 p.m.
Ordered by Aadil Ephraim.
March 2, winter green recital. Unit
Bent, J., Vosper瑟佩. Jr. and A.
Alpha. University Auditorium. 4 p.m.
Feb. 26, Inter-sorority Sing, sponsored by Nu Phi Essalon
Feb. 24, senior recital, Virginia
Derge, pinist, central Administration.
8 n.m.
The University Daily Kansan Can Help You--years, perhaps, but brium-full of living—living together.
Back Bay Mud
THE MAGAZINE SECTION OF THE UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN
(Continued from page one)
And now this letter, hiding its ugly secret these fifty years in a loose panel of the old desk, unknown to anyone. He must have have been married by marriage. Its sordid story left her numb and cold.
Dear Henry:
You ought to knowed I would not let you get married. I liked you even if you always had a fine babe, but you should be careful.
You may be a slick lawyer but I can make you plenty of trouble, whoa. Kannas looks good on the map but maybe I could live cheaper here in Boston. I am not one to keep my mouth shout.
She read it again and again until every syllable lashed at her consciousness. Mary Powell wondered dully what he had done, since there had been no steady drain on their income and the woman had been so ruthless that she only knew she only did not have to think, to remember. The dead, insensible numbness was slipping away from her. Bitterness and hatred sat up in their place. She struggled against the pictures that rose in her mind—Henry in their little home, Henry in their high school, Henry a highly respected member of the community.
Kate.
The puturalian strain in which they was revolted by the foundation upon which they had built their home. She thought bitterly of the process, that the period of misunderstanding and separation was no longer wrapped in a kind of poetic sadness. It weked of an impurity that buildup and separation had yearned—they that and her two children had shared.
Three weeks ago when Henry died she had thought her sorrow would crush her. Elizabeth had said, "Mother, Mary and I would like for you to live with us, now. We both have plenty of room to make you dinner. You will be kindly here. Now that father is longer need us and we need you more than ever before."
But Mary Powell knew that they had no real need of her, that they had children and husbands to fill their hearts. She knew too, that she could never be happy in a strange town among strange people. So she said to Mary Powell, "You spoke eloquently of the past, and among her own friends who had known and loved her husband.
Mary shrank from the well-mean words as if someone had struck her. She felt a momentary despair, "It's like I'm saying I can't say in a quiet voice that hardly seemed to come from herself. 'It is a beautiful thing for them to be alone.'"
Now the past with its comforting memories was dead, too. Worse, it was claimed by an unnatural sense of loss. When she saw him, the room, the furniture spoke insistently. She suddenly felt that she must get away from the library and from the desk, forever. From force of habit she put on a light wrap and then went out. Her mother looked at her with a worried look; wanted to hide. Almost prayerfully she hoped that she would not meet anyone she knew. No one must see her shame. They must not know. Thoughts were running in her mind always that one remained fixed—no one must know.
"Are you planning to go away?" Mrs. Cong asked in surprise.
She walked across the river bridge and along the streete of North Topka feeling that she would be less likely to meet any acquaintances, and then, at last turned wearily back. As she measured her home, Mrs. Conger, her nearest friend, the one she would have chosen least to meet, overtook her
"Yes, there are too many memories for me here."
Mary repulsed, hating herself for the lie of a half
The next day, she met Emily.
"Good evening, Mary," she greeted. "It's a lovely evening for a walk isn't it?"
Mrs. Cooper talked on for her friend had taken great comfort during the past weeks in speaking of her husband. Emily had always considered Henry her husband, a married man and woman of her acquaintance.
"Oh, did you pass the park?" asked Mrs. Coppel,
"You should see Heirry's flowers," she continued as Mary shocked her head. "They are beautiful now and
you don't have to worry about it." Topka certifies surely the touch of his fine life.
"Yes, it is, Emily," she responded quietly. "I've been quite a way."
"Will says that the Chamber of Commerce set Armistice Day for dedicating the memorial. It's to remember the sacrifice."
"I haven't seen them, yet," Mary replied quietly. "I never voiced trembled ever so slightly. "It'll try to put you at ease."
Ruth for a while. I think it will rest me. I feel so tired."
An exclamation of love and pity escaped Mra. Conger, she condemned herself for her blindness. She had been mistaken in thinking Mary wanted to talk of Henry.
They neared the house and stopped at the walk leading to the front door to exchange a final remark. Mary looked at the neat lawn and bright flowers, at the wide hospital porch, beautiful in its white silhouette, but her eyes were on the dark windows. She felt an hysterical impulse to laugh, to shout to the world that it was not merely dark but black inside. The bitterness that physical exhaustion had partly driven from her mind surged. She knew nothing about night to Mrs. Counger and forced herself to walk toward the house, up the steps, across the porch, and into the hall. Emotions she had supposed herself no longer capable of feeling shock her. She must be in danger.
She had told Mrs. Crager that she was going to California without having previously made any such plan but now it seemed the logical thing to do. There was nowhere else to go. She could not go to either of her daughters. How could she keep from them the ugly truth. It would be impossible not to betray herself. She could not lie to them, yet. Later, she had hardened herself to it, but not new.
To sell every picture, every rug, every piece of furniture was the best way. She would first rid herself of everything that brought her memories. She could not live among them. When they were gone and she had had a little time to think, perhaps she could return and Mary and live the lie necessary to shield them.
"They must not know. They must not." A thousand times she said it to over herself. She was scared.
A week later she passed the home, a stranger. She had disposed of it and everything it contained. The sale had been difficult even for the amount she wanted to buy. It was finally finished. In a few hours she, too, would be gone.
Yet, now she was drawn back once more. She saw it again in the half light of evening. The sight was hateful but she could not leave. It held all that had been beautiful and happy in her life. Soon he came and helped her move. They arrange them. It would no longer be her home. For the first time since death had walked out of the past and taken her memories she felt bitterness and hate slipping away. Henry was no longer one who knew what to do, even when, but one who was dead in body and in memory. She felt only a great, overwhelming sense of loss.
Slowly she turned in at the walk and approached the house. Elizabeth and Mary were playing dolls on the front porch. They laughed and ran into her room, where she hid about their father and scraped up stairs, to return preening and blushing in their party dresses. They peered from the kitchen in large, gingham shirts. The children sat on the floor. Elizabeth ran her hands through his thick, black hair to mux it. No, his hair was white and the child was his little granddaughter and beside him she was asking, frequently asking the opinion of the man he admired.
No, no. Of course not. The house was empty. So was the chair. She was touching it now with thin, tragic hands. There was nothing left. Nothing. Only her griff. Bitterness and hatred had gone and she felt weak. She needed their emotional stimulus to support her from a broken foot. You could be in an awkward position that she could stand upright. The room was dim with twilight. She would sit down.
She was on the floor beside the chair, but no matter. This was better for she could rest her aching head against it. There was no need to move. She was tired and would rest.
The next morning Emily Conger raised her gently from where her head still rested against the chair in which her husband had spent so many evenings, and then she began to cry no more, nor hate, nor even grief. Mary Powell simply replied.
The Veronas (Continued from page two.
boys and get hold of things that disagree with him. I actually saw him on the street with a hamburger
"Oh, by the way," she reflected, a moment later,
"I forgot to order the nuts for your cake. You'd better call. Ive ordered three times this morning and I hate to call again; they'll think I'm terrible."
"You are," Elinor grinned, "but I'll call them." she added tenderly, "Your memory will be the joke of the town. Are you sure you haven't forgotten anything else?"
"No, darling, but there's the doorbell, and I'm not
dressed yet. It's probably Mrs. Lyon, too, and she's always so neat. Whatever she I do?*
A moment later Elinor was in the living room answering Mrs. Leyen's questions about her work at college.
"don't worry," Ellinor replied. "Brother will let her in and I'll be down in three shakes to entertain her till you get dressed. Get on some clothes and come down when you can."
I'm taking design; it's rather difficult, but I hope to learn something. I'm going to a different school, next year, where I can get better courses about art and design. I will be sure which. Then, when I get out of school, I intend to help Brother when he goes to college, and to travel with Mamma. She's a good sport, and I love her.
Mrs. Verona entered and Ellinor rose to excuse herself.
"I promised Brother I'd make him some candy and go riding with him," she explained. "I want to finish my dress, too, but I can do that when I get back."
Slanguage
By Marquerite Davies
That correct English usage should be known as the Queen's has always seemed to me peculiarly significant. That term sets it apart, if not as a pergative of royalty at least as a possession of the favored few. Nor is this the case in English alone. It is clearly a feature of the people and linguistic development can be observed only through the study of conversational usage. Sometimes as in ancient Greece this unpolished speech many pithy epigramms which are recognized in classical diction because of their intrinsic value. The tyrants made use of these vulgar motives by placing them in places where they could speak. At the end of each mile some homely thought that might furnish him for thought during the next lap of his journey. The slang of the provinces and of the common Roman solderry is studied as the modifying between Latin and the Romance languages. While modern slang can scarcely be said to be so important some expressive accent to a locality or people supply interesting clues as to the character and deeds of their users.
Nitekwee is most popular in Soviet Russia and its translation can easily be applied as a reflection of economic conditions there. Nitekwee "what does it matter?" ask the porter when the more energetic American tourist complain that the water faucet is constantly dripping. The faucet could be fixed in a few minutes but the Russian is busy with his work, so the faucet is not distinctive of establishing a free country and "what does it matter?" is the proper attitude to be adopted toward anything so crass as money and comfort.
An explorer who spent some years in the Congo district of Africa found interesting traces pointing to the existence of a civilization developed back in the region. It was not until he and the Bantu people who inhabit that region. Any question concerning these ruins was answered by the stagnant expression Ich e-cyne "nobody knows," but no one could argue that he did not know. It is hard to imagine a race that could live day in and day out within sight of the ruins of a marble temple and still apply to it. A man in the Congo gives to other daily problems—nobody knows.
You can jew a Hindustanese on his prices but when he gets to the final price down he says *buss*. After that you may as well decide whether you want the article or were merely trying to drive a good bargain. Bux is the final word and one suspects that even Dutch trades have learned to respect it.
The Cajans are almost all be-lingual, therefore it is not surprising that their favorite expression is a combination. Unlike other expressions, Mais pally means "to hug" or "to kiss" on either a soul or a whole-hearted agreement, depending on the way in which it is said. It stands out most clearly in French market which offers a ready comparison to the tower of Babel. All the thrifty Cajan housewives of Paris will swim in the river and fish. They hurry along the narrow cobble stoned streets and rush into the market out of breath to begin their bargaining with the stall keepers of the market. The conversation is French, and the Cajan team is left dazed by the rapidity of their speech.
Mais golly dog—you turn to see some pleased purchaser putting a fish into her basket, but the next moment with the same exclamation the woman at the fruit stall has thrown the too ripe banana that Maser was trying to put on her to the ground. Maser golly dog—the Cajas are inconsistent.
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