THE BATTALION
3
————■ UW* 'm—mm—mmmm—m
| SLANTS AX|
i THE CROWD I
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Hang the crepe on Sbisa Hall
On dances no more
Can you look at all.
That’s rather queer poetry but
it fits in so nicely with what I’m
about to rave about. It’s too good
to withhold from all those who are
lovers of excellent verse. You pros
pective and would-be John Barry
mores; you ambitious men with high
social aspirations harken unto this
story. Take heed and profit by its
example. No more can you gaze
through those big windows of dear
old Sbisa at those closely entangled
couples who drift slowly by; no more
can you stand on the ledge and lis
ten to the Aggieland croon a haunt
ing lullaby; no more can you press
your nose against the screen to get
a better view of some little will-o-
the-wisp in a rhapsody in Blue or
perhaps, a symphony in green with
a form like Venus’ little sister.
From this time on, it seems that
one is either on the inside looking
out or he isn’t there at all. We
know for certain one thing at least
and that is: one can’t be on the out
side- looking in. So reach down far
into your jeans, gentlemen, and bring
out that necessary entrance fee.
Hand it to the doorkeeper with a
complacent smile on your face. En
joy yourself for you’re entitled to
it.
Some of you that haven’t the neces
sary stipend but are blest with at
tractive profiles just wait on the
outside—some young lady with a
soul of mercy may come by in a
big Packard and show you the
landscape. Things like that have been
known to happen—but not here,
brother, not here. The best thing to
do is to trot back to your room
and either go to bed or sit around
and buzz and buzz, and think about
what a helluva man you uster was.
Gather around the fireside, lads,
while papa tells his nightly bedtime
story. And what he’s trying to tell
you is meant for nobody else, so
listen carefully and think it over.
It is an established fact that this
is a man’s school or at least it’s
supposed to be. Your parents thought
it was or they would have sent you
somewhere else back there in those
balmy days when you were an un
sophisticated freshman. How badly
they were fooled or how nearly
they were correct will always be a
matter of opionion. The subject, how
ever, that I’m trying to bring up
for discussion is this: if we must
be men, physically speaking, why
can’t we be men, mentally elerc,
and open our eyes to the things
worthwhile around us and learn to
appreciate them ? About the only
art we appreciate here is the art of
criticising something or somebody. In
the name of all that’s high and holy
why can’t we wake up and give
the other fellow a helping hand when
he needs it?
We are too darn lazy to do it for
one thing. We had rather sit back
and criticize a bit or just remain
neutral and not do anything. We’d
rather revel in the art of “slinging
a line” than to think seriously for
once in a thousand years and obtain
a little common sense by doing so.
We are like a herd of wild horses
—nlways following the leader where-
ever he goes, whatever he does, the
whole mob follows behind, just like
Mary’s little lamb. It would be a
shame if someone would start to -
ward the Brazos River and jump in
it—we would all be drowned before
morning. Let’s break loose from the
crowd; become a trifle bit more ser
ious minded; learn to appreciate
things that are being done for your
own welfare and lend a helping hand
to the ones that need it.
Perhaps it may all be summariz
ed in the following trite sketch of
poetry:
“If with pleasure you are viewing
Any work that man is doing—
If you like him or you love him
Tell him now.
Don’t withhold your appreciation
’Till the parson makes oration
And he lies with snowy lilies on his
brow.
For no matter how loud you shout it
He won’t know a thing about it;
A man can’t read a tombstone
when he’s dead.
* * *
Whoops! this fall weather is evi
dently having a jarring effect on the
constitution of some of the soldier-
boys on the campus. Now I’ve heard
of “Spring Fever” and “Moonlight
Madness” but I’ll tell the cross
eyed world I never heard of “Fall
Fever.” But fall fever it must be
and oh what a powerful influence
it exerts on those who are victims
of the malady. It demoralizes our
mind, gives you that foolish feeling
and to climax it all, makes you do
things that in your sane and other
wise efficient mind you would never
think of doing.
Picture if you please, the follow
ing episode that occured the other
day. Conjure your mind and make
believe that it isn’t so—don’t say
it too realistically or you might not
believe it; but, if you believe it, it’s
so. Witness for example, this: a
hazy eyed cadet, clad only in a bath
robe with which to face the sharp
wind of a fresh norther, running
around the flag-pole shouting “We
want hot water, we want hot water!”
Gentlemen of the jury, I’m in favor
of his having hot water —anybody
that wants it that badly should
have it—and plenty of it at any time
he wants it. Perhaps it was an ad
vertising stunt of the Standard
Plumbing Company, illustrating the
fact that if one uses “Standard”
supplies, he can always be assured
of having hot water at anytime of
the day or night. If this is true,
then it certainly was original ad
vertising.
I repeat sirs, this Fall Fever
must be terrible. We sincerely hope
that it is not contagious or we’ll
be having shirt-tail parades all over
the campus. There’s not another thing
that would cause one to become tem-
porarly unbalanced and do this un
less one bought too much stock in
cotton and the price went down
two hundred points. That’s the next
group here that’s going to lose con
trol of itself. They are the most
nervous men on the campus at the
present time. If you see them run
ning around the flag pole calling on
Allah to raise the price of cotton,
pass them by kindly—it isn’t their
fault; blame it on Wall Street.
We devoutly hope that the next
dramatic incident that happens can
be staged before a larger audience.
It would be a treat for sore eyes
and give us something to grow happy
over when nothing else presented it
self. On with the show.
INDUSTRIAL STUDENTS
(Continued from Page 1)
I chosen for secretary-treasurer at the
j initial meeting, which was attended
j by 22 men.
j The programs and activities of the
club are to be consistent with the
purposes outlined and from time
to time speakers from all parts of
the state as well as from the cam
pus will be asked to address the
club on industrial arts and education
work.
Members present at the organizing
meeting were very enthusiastic and
work was begun immediately on the
program for the ensuing year. It is
believed that the club will have a
complete membership of twenty-five
when organization is completed.
1 I
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