Beloit College - Codex Yearbook (Beloit, WI)

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TI AAG (according to season and disposition) Marco Polo, Ulysses and Captain Cook. An explanation of monickers here would be too long. Making smiling and pleasant teachers out of sophisticated and pessimistic students is the job Prof. H. H. Foster of the educational department has been managing with surprising success, considering some of his material, since 1923. Students gather in sessions in study halls, fraternity and sorority house bathrooms and in dormitory dining rooms to discuss Professor Foster’s antics. Because of his capers, said to be the result of itching pains, the beloved pupils have come to refer to their professor as “‘Itchy.”’ Prof. Foster has a heart of gold and as big as a moun- tain. You can’t be sure whether he’ll appear at his next class with a mustache or a clean upper lip, but you can always depend on his winning grin and friendly manner. While speaking of Professor Foster one musn’t forget to mention Colleen. Know Colleen? She’s “Itchy’s” dog and is introduced to all callers like a member of the family. Yep, she’s some dawrg! There he stood with supine palm upward—forearm extended and slightly to the inside—chin firm and larynx vibrating—abdominal muscles flexed by frequent use—both feet squarely on the platform—yes, you guessed it. Professor G. F. Rassweiler, head of the department of speech, speaking to a class in Morse-Ingersoll auditorium and striking a typical Rassweilerian gesture. ‘“‘Now then again—the ocean old, centuries old, as wild as youth and as uncontrolled—That was fine— 99 now then—ship ahoooooy—fine—fine—”’ Future senators and presidents will hold audiences on abated breath as a result of their training under “G. F.” He’s a good speaker himself, and his debate teams are feared throughout the middlewest by larger institutions. There’s a soft spot in the hearts of Beloit students for Prof. Monta E. Wing, head of the Beloit college department of Geology, whose field trips to the Dells of the Wisconsin river are known far and wide. ‘“‘Monta”’ is a good scout and a regular fellow, and every student who has been on any of his field trips will vouch for this statement as a fact. There are students who have taken his courses for a year or two and have left his department with a troubled look. When asked their trouble they say, “I’m not sure yet whether that square inch of fuzz under Professor Wing’s nose qualifies as a mustache or not.’ He’s an entertaining golfer, a great outdoor man who takes long hikes and camping trips, and likes to scratch around in the garden in rear of his Chapin street home. You’ve never witnessed a football or basketball game without seeing and hearing ‘‘Monta.”’ Several Beloit college professors have war records. Coach Bob Jaggard, the Gold Mentor, served as a second lieutenant in the air corps; Prof. Floyd McGran- ahan, who makes Greek easy, was sergeant in Battery D of the 333 Field Artillery, and Prof. P.H. Whitehead, who can expound for hours on the exquisite loveliness of a Greek vase (get the Italian quality on the ‘‘a’”’), was a captain in the intelligence service in the World War. Jaggard has done remarkably well with his athletic material and is popular among both the students with the brawny backs and those with the crammed cerebrums. ‘‘Granny” teaches with a personal touch and attracts many students into courses which other professors might find difficulty in filling and teaching. Professors Deane, Severson, Huffer, and Leavitt also served in the World War. We might tell you about Prof. R. C. Huffer, whose annual presentation of ‘““Ave Maria” via the trumpet is an inspiration. Professor Huffer didn’t have such Sa

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A Perhaps you’ve already guessed. But if you haven’t the above statements come from the daily classroom lecture of Prof. Royal Brunson Way, head of the college department of Political Science. Ona fair day, after a good meal and a visit to the bootblack’s stand across from the postoffice, “R. B.” can talk any student or member of the faculty into oblivion. His annual lecture on Peggy O’Neill attracts cutsiders from the business district and an occasional student from another college. “R.B.” is the “Carl Russell Fish” of the Beloit campus and knows his politics from A to Z with sanscrit and cuneiform thrown in for good measure. No political convention of the Grand Old Party is complete in the state without the presence of the scholarly “R. B.” He still debates the birth-place of the Republican party, requires each student to write a paper on the causes of the Revolutionary war, and is known far and wide for his parenthetical meanderings. It is not uncommon for him to begin his lecture on a phase of the administration of Andrew Jackson and find himself telling the class how the holes are put in Swiss cheese in Monroe, Wis., when the bell rings. “R. B.” is a great golfer and takes time out several times a week to demonstrate his mashie stance or the way he holds his little finger on his niblick shot. There’s always a smile and a twinkle of the eye with Professor Way’s side remarks and injections of humor which make him dear to students and make his courses ever popular. “‘Clancy falls short of being a genius by inches.” This is the high tribute that a Beloit minister paid Professor George Carpenter Clancy recently. Professor Clancy, or ‘“George Carpenter” in more familiar terms, had been an inspiration to aspiring students of better writing and a higher appreciation of literature since IgII. Prof. Clancy heads the department of English, is the author of two text books and has a vast knowledge of literature and details concerning playrights and poets. This Beloit professor understands students—their little love affairs and broken romances, their fire and enthusiasm which bursts into a bright flame and later smolders and dies out. All these things make “‘George Carpenter” smile his sardonic and all- knowing smile. Yes, he can be sarcastic and his satirical tongue and verbosity of manner can rip a theme or term paper to shreds. It’s a pleasure to study modern plays and novels with Professor Clancy—he reads bits here and there—enacting one of Ibsen’s heartless women—or one of Barrie’s whimsical heroines—or Wilde’s fantastic Yank—and you should see him do “Strange Interlude”’! Syllogisms flow like a rhapsody—complicated philosophical concepts radiate like soft light—hair-splitting differentiations in thinking processes ebb like music from the personality of Prof. John Forsyth Crawford, Beloit college’s best read and most widely informed teacher. There’s a close friendship and warm understanding between “J. F.”’ and his students akin to nothing on the campus. He’ll go without his meals to discuss a current problem with an earnest student, and his seminar groups meet in extra sessions evenings because of the keen intellectualism and elevating thought of which they smack. Professor Crawford is a liberal thinker and is identified with the state LaFollette movement. He has risen high in educational circles and community affairs since his birth in far off Syria and his entrance into the faculty in 1913. “J. F” has his lighter moments, however, and he likes to fuss with a garden and ride in his car. His car isn’t an ordinary automobile but is called respectively A

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vA TA good luck on “‘taps”’ last Armistice Day, but his other solo work has made amends. “Ralph” is the gentleman who knows his math, and is also acquainted not only with the exterior of the heavenly bodies but is called upon almost weekly to lecture on “The Inside of a Star.” Then there is Prof. M. D. Brode, who teaches his students to cut up helpless frogs, earthworms and cats—the old meany! His home is in the west and his hobby is mountain climbing. He doesn’t wait until he gets home to do his high- stepping but limbers up here now and then. In the spring you’ll catch him capturing frogs along a creek, or breeding a batch of fruit flies for his students to study. Have we mentioned Prof. Paul N. Nesbitt? He’s the fellow who tells those tall yarns about the Fiji Islands and dishes out the dirt on the private life of the Amer- ican Indian. ‘‘Paul” is young enough to associate with pupils and pass as a student. He’s the last of a succession of swains on the Beloit campus who ran the century in 1o seconds flat, and is a booster of Gold athletics. You’ll never be the same if you ve taken one of his Anthropology courses and you’ve missed a lot if you haven’t. On a cold winter’s day, when the mercury was hovering around twenty-five degrees below zero and you were nearly frozen stiff, have you seen a fast stepping man walk down the street toward the campus without a coat or hat? That man was Prof. Darwin Ashley Leavitt, assistant professor of history, who is perhaps the warmest blooded homo-sapiens in existence. We're told Professor Leavitt roams the fairways of the Municipal golf links with that same stride and can cover the required eighteen holes in less time than any five individuals who have ever tried to combine cross-country running with whacking the pellet. We could go on to mention Prof. Max Miranda, the suave organist; Prof. Lewis I. Severson, who knows economics like Jonah knew the whale (from the inside out); Prof. H. H. Conwell, who solves polynomials with ease; Prof. William J. Trautman, who knows where you sit in chapel and if you sit in chapel every day of the year when you are required to sit in chapel;Prof. Ivan M. Stone, Miss Catharine Wins- low, director of Smith gymnastic emporium for gals; Dashing George B. Schick, immaculate James B. Gage, and Bill Bledsoe; Prof. Ole N. DeWeerdt, and Prof. Vernon A. Suydam, who is forever sniffing and snuffling. Let’s conclude with President Irving Maurer, a gentleman and a scholar to whom all Beloit students can point with pride. ‘“‘Prexy”’ has this year served as president of the American Association of Colleges, and is recognized throughout the nation as one of the foremost educators of the day. He is a friend to every student, he believes in Beloit students, and is making Beloit greater by his presence. A AT