UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN
MARCH 11,1918
UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN
Official student paper of the University of Kansas
EDITORIAL STAFF
Vivian Stargeon ... Associate Editor,
Alice Bowen ... Editor in-charge,
Jane Hardwick, landscape,
Mary Smith ... Assistant News Editor,
Diana Gossett ... War, Film
Fredman Gottlieb ... War, Film
BUSINESS STAFF
Pre Flight...Business Mgr
Wane Wilson...Assistant
NEWS STAFF
Herman Hanesen
Rosemary Hunter-
Howard Moe
Millard Worr
Floyd Hookmuth
Floyd Worr
Harry Morgan
Donald Davis
Dorothy Cole
Roger Triplett
David Curran
Chase J. Niswoum
KaI), Hemphill
Subscription price $3.00 per year it
advance; one term, $1.75.
Entered as second-class mail multistate
Lawrence, Kansas, under the act of
1896.
Published in the afternoon five times a week in the Kansas City Press and in Kansas from the press of the Des Moines Journal.
Address all communications to UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN Lawrence, Kansas Phones, Bell K, U. 25 and 66.
The Daily) Kansan aims to picture the undergraduate life of the students there and then merely printing the news by standing for the idents the University has chosen. The news to be clean; to be cheerful; to be charitable; to be courageous; to be dignified; to be wiser heads; in all, to serve to the university; to educate the students of the University.
MONDAY, MARCH 11, 1918.
Have you a little SALVAGE BAS
KET in your home?
SEEKERS OF HOLLOW GLORY
SEEKERS OF HOLLOW GLORY The "Honor-Grabber" is one of the worst of the pests which infect the student body of this University. These individuals, who are annoyingly numerous, have their collective instincts abnormally developed, who suffer from the collecting mania.
The idyllic dream of these ambitious students is to belong to every society or organization from the social and scholastic fraternities down to the Amalgamated Association of Energetic Organizers for the Humane Extermination of Superannuated Fungivorous Snails, and to accumulate a list of honors so long that when the annual Jayhawker comes out that below their printed countenance extra room will have to be created for the long list of "things he belongs to."
Ye shall know the Honor-Grabber not by his fruits but by his methods. Primarily he, or she, is in popular parlance a "good mixer" an individual of ample assurance, sublimе faith in the superiority of his personal powers, a tactful manner of procedure, and a producer of concrete results in the gentle art of bringing home the olives. He attends all meetings, for personal reasons, for who knows but that a class presidency may spring largely from being on the ground at all class meetings. He is obliging about doing things for the man in power, in order to make an indeible impression of his ability. In the meantime he has done some real labor in order to achieve a few favorable comments and start the "brilliant fellow" ball rolling. It helps, surprisingly.
After this manner offices and memberships begin to flow toward him. He accepts all important positions which he can contrive to make fall his way, regardless of what his conscience ought to tell him about his lack of suitability or ability to fill the place properly. During this time his efficiency as an officer may be nil. He lets the lowly other fellow do what is done, his own promises of achieving specific labors being followed by vain repetititions only, and philosophizes on his own supreme executive power. Chronically and perpetually he is terribly busy. But he does gather a string of honors.
When the Honor-Grabber is through college he has a full measure of empty glory. He has usurped many opportunities for signal service to his fellow students and his university, and for the most part he has served not. The remedy lies with the student body at large; in their closer discrimination as to good faith and earnest effort and their closer adherence to the Point System of honors now in force.
LITTLE THINGS THAT COUNT
Just as the professor reached the important part in his lecture the students on the last row raised a chorus of coughs. It may have been necessary, but when it was repeated at various intervals as interesting points in the professor's talk were reached, it appeared to be forced or habitual. It was not much to fuss about and the professor did not mind the repeated interruptions, yet a little care in covering the cough or some attempt to stop the habit would have been appreciated by the students who were trying to understand the recitation.
It's the little things that count
A musical organization that puts as much time into the preparation of its concerts as does the University Orchestra at K. U. should be supported by a capacity audience of students, at its first concert Friday night in Fraser Hall.
"Before the war things were too easy for us—we almost lost our souls."
"I am led to believe," said one Professor recently that the waiters at the estimable cafes in connection with the Hill are in "cohots" with the students. They wait on every student in sight and while we impatiently wait for breakfast the students hurry to classes, sit delightedly watching their timepieces, thinking that the poor tardy old prof may stay away the whole ten minutes."
JEST FILLER
PLOWS IN THE FURKEN
Come around, Dobbin, git along, Sal-
n. Tuck it in, over the harness bend down how
Over the stabble stady and slow!
Swing ahead, colties, nosin' to the breeze
Keep the furrer even—don't sto
please—
Ready with the pullin', trace chains tight
'now a little deeper—all your might!'
Ease in, Dobbin...you, too, Sal-
Goin't too strong for your old pal,
tough.
Trinken of the manger to earn your hay
You just remember—we've got all daj
duw!
Jawn Henery.
Crinoid's Age-Old Bed Broken by Dynamite
Criny is an old fossil, with lots of stress on the age. Criny's his pet name. Society he would be designated as Mr. Crinoid. And he moved in marine social circles awhile before the geological period known as the Pennsylvania era, which by the way was the last Quakers came to live in Philadelphia—about twenty-five million years before, in fact.
Criny was ushered into the light of a modern day when several sticks of perfectly friendly dynamite exploded last week in the rock at the bottom of the excavation for the new west wing of the Administration Building. There lay Criny, nestled snug as you please in the side of a big rock. He didn't seem to be a bit annoyed at having been thus rudely awakened from his lengthy map; he didn't even move.
H. Kalloway, foreman of the construction gang at work on the Administration Building, keeps Criny in the tool house and he would be glad to show him to anyone who might be interested in an animal that lived when Mount Oread was at the bottom of the sea.
Mr. Crinoid is a monopus, this is,
he would be an octopus if he had
seven more arms or legs. He is a
first cousin to the star-fish, according
to the men of Haworth Hall, who have
a full brother to Criny in captivity in
the Geology Museum. His arm or leg
whichever it is, is about three feet
long. The Crinoid brothers had a
grandfather, say the people of Haworth Hall, who had a tail fifty feet long.
"Come," said the beavers, "let's finish this dam. Here we've lost goodness knows how much time—and we have no time for play."
The Junior Laws at Washburn have refused to have their pictures in the Kaw, the annual book of the College, and have refused to co-operate with the college.
Miracle Maker Wakes Museum and Shepherds Century Circus Away
Floary Ringmaster Reclaims Animals After Sleep of Hundred Years
It had to happen somewhere. So it happened on the top of the Hill, the Hill that Kannas knows best. And it had to happen sometime. So it came when a hundred years had been slept away. Somebody had to do it. So the Ringmaster of the Rock-Chalk circus in and brought his circus with him.
The sun-dial north of the red-bud tree was marking noon of the twenty-fourth hour of the three-hundred-sixth day of the hundredth year. Lucky the sun was shining. And the Ringmaster yawned, stretched, roused. The spell of a century was shattered. The spell of another again was the whistle on the power house, ten minutes late as usual.
The Ringmaster cracked his wnip and it fell into molecules of dust and mingled with the atmosphere. Even if it had made a noise, there was no circum near to hear it,—not even the brown squirrel that always slept in the Ringmaster's pocket.
RID'S SNOOZE NOT IN IT
"H 'm,"—regular preambulatory
ejaculation before philosophizing,
"a ringmaster ain't a ringmaster
unless he's got a circuit." The ancient
sword tarnished tarnished spangles.
"Therefore I'll have to find mine,"
surely concluded.
NOW THE SLEEPING BEAUTY
With the rusty remnant of what had been a pearl-handled knife the Ringmaster cut away enough of his hundred years of whiskers so that he wouldn't be tripped up; then he proceeded unevenly over the Hill. His hand was on the door of the Museum, and incidentally a switch to take the place of his whip. Switches were there—many of them, for you see the lawn hadn't been mowed for a hundred years.
He went into the Museum's gorgeous ruin of crumbling stone on stone. And lo his beloved circus lay sleeping sweetly within! He debated which he should kiss to announce the end of slumber—the polar bear or the kangaroo. But he hesitated. They looked so tame, but so well-behaved, so well-preserved—he just had to stand in heartfelt awe.
The Ringmaster swished his switch until it snapped. He gave two long whistles and two short—railroad crossing, look out for the engine—and then he dropped a stitch in his back with the anxiety that caught him there. Replacing the stitch, he made an astute observation. The jack rabbit's ears gave a shivery twitch and then a flop; the cotton wood tree shook its leaves in a real breeze that didn't come from an electric fan; and the coyotes all wagged their tails together in common joy.
PALEONTOLOGY UNREELS
PALMSTOLE UNDERLES
With a clash of horns the rival moose finishes the dual while angle No. 3 of the eternal isoceles calmly chewed the stuff that man would eventually make into grapponets. The porcupine bristled like a bundle of barb-wire and the snake rattled defiance. Gray wolves began sneaking toward their prey again and pounced on the carcass of the aged buffalo. Mountain lions ducked behind the rocks because the lioness began 'to snarl. The goat bits at one another's whiskers, shook real hard, and said "Bah!"
The evil eye of the fisher spotted a fat black squirrel who returned the malign glance and took refuge behind a rocky rampart. Strieks of wild laughter pealed from the wide-open mouth of the hyena. And answer came forthwith -wildcats mowed, bad dogs wandered, poses skypark for a long howl's inspiration. It was a Rock-Chalk cheer for the Rimmaster.
AND BEAVERS FINISH THE DAM
The Ringmaster bowed low, and prepared to make a speech. No use; the circus would not listen; the spirit of the parade was on them and it thrilled them. Already the grizzly bear was lumbering right through the glass casing to give the boss the glad hand and a welcoming hug. Then out of the hole the bear had made, trooped all the animals of the past. They boosted the Rigmaster on to the prancing steet of Custer and he led the whooping, yelling crew past the portal, down the steps and out into the warm sunshine of the plains.
Gradually the thunder of feet die away. And only the beavers heard the far off thudding and padding on the prairie under an ever-advancing cloud of dust that obscured the departing hosts.
an ARROW form-fit COLLAR
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TEACHERS WANT
TEACHERS WANTED—War conditions cause many good positions to fall, and we need to fill them. Write for our blank and booklet. Central Educational Bureau, W. J. Hawkins, Mgr. Metropolitan Bldg., St. Louis, Mo.
FOR UKULEE lessons see Benj.
Yap, 1328 Vermon or phone 1868
405-720-9788
PROFESSIONAL
DH. DR.LUP-Eye Ear, Ear. Nose and
Mouth glass work warranty
Dick Building.
LAWRENCE OPTICAL CO.
(800) 261-4350 Eyes
examined in clinical care. Urine
and blood analysis required.
DR. H. REDING F - A, U. U. Building.
Rachel Jones 9 to 5. Phone 513.
HUFFED. HUFFED. HUFFED.
JOH PRINTING—B. H. DALE, 1027
Mast. St. Phone 228.
G. W. JONES, A. M. M. D. Diseases of the stomach, surgery and gynecological U. Hldg. Residence and hospital, 1201 Ohio St. Both phones, 35.
KEELEU'S BOOK STORE—Quiz books
artist's materials, drawing supplies.
Pictures and picture framing. Agency
and typewriters. 293 Mass.
Street.
FOR PROMPT TAXI 455 SERVICE CALL
JESS THORNTON
HOTEL KUPPER Kansas City, Mo.
1. ___
Convenient to the shopping and Theatre District especially handy for ladies, being on Petticoat Lane. Cafe in connection paying special attention to banquets.
WALTER S. MARS, Mgr.
831 Mass. S.
Representing to both Men and Women's
Exclusive agent for Ed. V. Price
1500 Spring Patterns
Are now on display at my store—this complete selection offers you the highest quality of made-to-your measure tailoring at the very lowest prices!
Have You Bought Your Ticket?
Before you buy for spring see
W. E. WILSON
707 Mass. St.
THIS MORNING
THE K. U. FOLLIES
As you are probably aware—tickets were put on sale for-
You are going to enjoy this synthesis of the best of K. U. fun makers—
The Follies every year bring out a capacity crowd. You aren't going to wait until that night when about 2,998 others are jamming the entrance—before you buy your tickets.
THE K. U. FOLLIES
Its perfectly easy to get them—all you need is one simple twenty-five cent piece and the ability to look the first charming co-ed ticket vender in the eye as you demand each ticket.
Remember, you these are no reserved seats, so get your ticket NOW, and Thursday night walk right in—past the last minute, wake-me-up-at-elevens, who stand in line, without
THE K. U. FOLLIES
Thursday March Fourteenth in Robinson Gym.
SEND THE DAILY KANSAN HOME.
Read What the National Cash Register man said in this morning's Times:
——"Ten merchants fail because they do not advertise to one who fails though he advertises."
Advertising is the "Open Sesame" to any market