2
He takes one last look.
Campus
Society
Pinnings Announced
- * *
Phyllis Schoen, St. Louis, Mo.
junior, Alpha Omicron Pi, to Owen
Sherwin, Topeka junior, Pi Kappa
Alpha.
Ann Miner, Shawnee Mission sophomore, Kappa Kappa Gamma, to Terry Hart, Mission senior, Phi Gamma Delta.
---
Jolene Brink, Ottawa senior, Watkins, to Tom Whitfield, University of Colorado.
. . .
THE MAN in the white shirt slowly walks down the hall, head bowed and his feet making the sound of finality as the others slowly follow.
Becky Johnson, Leawood sophmore, Kappa Kappa Gamma, to Dick Keller, Prairie Village sophmore, Phi Delta Theta.
They Tried in Vain to Save Him
By Sue Thieman
The eager faces wait outside the closed door. Hands perspire and brows wrinkle. The door creaks and opens and a man in a white shirt comes out. Slowly he closes the door and faces them.
"Is he . . . . ? Did he . . . . ?"
The man nods. "Yes, we did everything we could."
Yes, the person in the room is gone. They tried to save him, even sacrificed hours of their own time trying to help him in his last effort. It didn't work. It seldom does. What happened?
A student, flunked out. The man man in the white shirt was his roommate. His friends were waiting outside his room, afraid to ask the question — afraid to use the word "flunk."
On the other side of the door a student packs his clothes, takes the memories of a semester from his bulletin board, puts away the cards,
ashtrays and coffee. He looks out the window. Yes, he's leaving and never forgetting, never stopping to wish that he will return to the university. He knows that the dream of returning that he has already started to form will not be realistic. He knows that the same things that prevented his making his grades this semester will still be there.
HE STARES out the window. People talk in the hall outside his door. He doesn't hear. He sees the classrooms. He sees the faces of his friends and the things he has done. He remembers starting as a freshman and going through the chaotic enrollment and registration. He stands and stares until he sees the final scenes, studying all night to catch up, taking the finals and seeing the grades in Strong Hall.
Perhaps when he returns, he tells himself, he will face the responsibility of going to a university by budgeting his time and energy more maturely. Perhaps when he returns he will realize that he must not only start the race right but must continue to keep his pledges for a better semester. How easy it
is to become lax when the subject is not stimulating and the assignments are easy and frequent.
NOW HE KNOWS that this "busy work" takes time and at the end of the semester, time has to be taken for review and study and not for back assignments.
His friends tried to help him. Before finals they sacrificed their own time and studies to help him review the things he missed that afternoon he cut class and the test that he decided to drop and not study for. They tried to help. It didn't work. It was too late, much too late.
Campus Club News
Radio Club
KU's amateur radio club recently elected its spring semester officers. Officers are Willard Morton, Marshall, Mo., senior, president; Paul Brown, Lees Summit, Mo., junior, vice president; Richard Hartman, Kansas City, Mo. sophomore, secretary, and Jerry Ayers, St. Joseph, Mo., freshman, treasurer.
Tuesday. Feb. 7. 1961 University Daily Kansan PAGE $
The world's lightest swimsuit for the cruise season weighs just four and one-half ounces—including the built-in bra and zipper. It's so sheer you can read your morning newspaper through it, the manufacturer (Rose Marie Reid) claims. But it's completely modest when the body's in it. Tied to four balloons during a recent fashion show, the suit floated up and away.
Borrow an idea from Patou of Paris to dress up fur coats. Buy a narrow fur scarf to match the coat and wear the scarf inside the collar.
New accessories team: handbag and jewelry to match. Nettie Rosenstein, the designer, showed for date wear a rose-red handbag in needle-point with double strands of polished beads in the same shade.
"A GUIDE FOR THE DATELESS"
Unless the average man happens to be Finster Sigafoos.
With the cost of dating rising higher and higher it is no wonder that so many of us men are turning to discus throwing. Naturally, we would prefer nuzzling warm coeds to flinging cold disci, but who's got that kind of money? Prices being what they are, the average man today has a simple choice: dating or eating.
Finster came to college with the normal ambition of any average man; he wanted to find the prettiest coed on campus and make her his. He looked long and carefully, and at last he found her—a tall job named Kretchma Inskip, with hair like beaten gold.
He asked her for a date. She accepted. He appeared at her sorority house that night, smiling, eager, and carrying a bouquet of modestly priced flowers.
"Now then," said Kretchma, tossing the sleazy flora to a pledge, "where are we going tonight?"
Finster was a man short on cash, but long on ideas. He had prepared an attractive plan for this evening. "How would you like to go out to the Ag campus and see the milking machine?" he asked.
"Ick," she replied.
"Well, what would you like to do?" he asked.
And away they went.
"Come," said she, "to a funny little place I know just outside of town."
The place was Millionaires Roost, a simple country inn made of solid ivory. It was filled with beautiful ladies in backless gowns, handsome men in dickeys. Original Rembrandts adorned the walls. Marlboro trays adorned the cigarette girls. Chained to each table was a gypsy violinist.
Finster and Kretchma were seated. "I," said Kretchma to the waiter, "will start with shrimps remoulade. Then I will have lobster and capon in madera sauce with asparagus spears. For dessert I will have melon stuffed with money."
"And you. Sir?" said the waiter to Finster.
"Just bring me a pack of Marlboros," replied Finster, "for if ever a man needed to settle back and enjoy the mild benefi-
cence of choice tobacco and easy-drawing filtration, it is the shattered hulk you see before you now."
So, smoking the best of all possible cigarettes, Finster watched Kretchma ingest her meal and calculated that every time her fetching young Adam's apple rose and fell, he was out another 97£. Then he took her home.
It was while saying goodnight that Finster got his brilliant idea. "Listen!" he cried excitedly. "I just had a wonderful notion. Next time we go out, let's go Dutch treat!"
By way of reply, Kretthma slashed him across the face with her housemother and stormed into the house.
"Well, the heck with her," said Finster to himself. "She is just a gold digger and I am well rid of her. I am sure there are many girls just as beautiful as Kretchma who will understand the justice of my position. For after all, girls get as much money from home as men, so what could be more fair than sharing expenses on a date?"
With good heart and high hopes, Finster began a search for a girl who would appreciate the equity of Dutch treat, and you will be pleased to hear that he soon found one—Mary Alice Hematoma, a lovely three-legged girl with sideburns.
© 1961 Max Shulman
We're no experts on Dutch treat, but here's an American treat we recommend with enthusiasm—Marlboro's popular new partner for non-filter smokers—the Philip Morris Commander.