Carthage College - Driftwood / Crimson Rambler Yearbook (Kenosha, WI)

Page 28 text:

mwmammamgmgam$$aammamaaemwaamawmawmwmagmmaaema$$ammmg$awwawa 1. 5-35. 9.3? 1: GI? CLASS 01: 1940 mmmmmmwmmmawmmmvammwmFawn,an

Page 27 text:

ll THE COLLEGIAN Qteaf ametican Dance . . . as sarr'rized by a freshman ing. My guess is that you've already heard of the Great American Bandwagon and perhaps the Great American Hamburgerl'. This. fellow students, is to be a brazen denunciation of the almighty Great American Dance - -or hop, leap, jump. shuffle. or whatvhave-you. Realiz- ing that such a treatise as this is in direct opposition to the forces of tradi- tion and custom, I'm hereby assuming all responsibility and taking the chance Of being annihilated as an extremist. gl-IERE is one American institution above all others that needs satiriz- t j Milton certainly started something in l;L'Allegrol, when he wrote, Come and trip it as you go. on the light fantastic toe . Today this might be interpreted to mean. Come and swing it as you go . Just what one is supposed to swing is a mystery which we. who are so miserably un- informed. have not been able to determine as yet. However, Milton con- tinues by saying. And in thy right hand lead with thee the mountain nymph, sweet liberty . which in the modem idiom means. And in thy two arms icheek to cheekl lead with thee thy sweet petite . Oh, Mil- ton, if only thou eouldst see us now! Here is a familiar announcement: Stag 50c. drag 30c . This inv variably provokes a laugh. which I find expedient to stifle, lest I be the recipient of diverse scornful glances. I take this to mean that the drag is worth about minus twenty cents. This indeed is deplorable. Somev thing should be done about it. Someone should exert a more active in- fluence in behalf of the poor femme, who if not protected against a perr feetly atrophying evening at home by a twenty'eent bribe. would be left out in the cold againeor still . The Great American Danceh today seems best lubricated by the utterances of muffled trumpets, stuttering saxaphones. and the like-called ilswing music. Stokowski, conductor of the Philadelphia Symphony Orchestra. after hearing it for the first time, exclaimed that he had never heard anything like it before. Poor man. it'll be hard on him these next few years. This noble temple of the dance is a thing that must not vanish from the map of North America. We must foster and protect it as representa- tive of American sanity. eIOSEPHINE LARSON. Page 25

Page 29 text:

ll THE COLLEGIAN He Dian? Want To . . . By ALFR ED STONE ' yanRDEN Dawes paced restlessly across his oHice nervously smoking '! a cigarette. He was a small manebut what he lacked in size he bal- - -t anced in his relentless, driving ambition as was evidenced by his rise from poverty and ignorance to his present position-- wellvbuilt. nearing fifty. Greyvblue eyes set below a pair of dark bushy eye-brows indicated a stern and irrevocable nature; small pug nose. narrow thin lips and a Hrmvset jaw were indicative of forcefulness and confidence. When he smiled, which was only on the rarest occasions, his sympathetic and kind nature shone through the hard. cold exterior which eleven years as warden of Newgate Penitentiary had given him. Usually the warden was neat in dress but to-night his clothes were in wild disarray-Arumpled hair, shirt wrinkled and opened at the neck, neck-tie rumpled and knotted. Stopping before the broad. high. barred window he Hicked the half-smoked cigarette out into the night. He saw its red tip streak rapidly through the night, saw it light and emit a shower of bright sparks, then saw it fade and die in the darkness. I' wish I didn't have to do this . he was mutteringias he returned to his swivel chair. Morbid thoughts were surging and ebbing thr0ugh the mind of the warden threatening to dominate hi5 otherwise steady sure- mindedness. 'lHe has to go lcause he didn't have a lawyer crooked enough to cheat for him. but they give guys like Cardozzi fourteen years. That's Justice. He laughed bitterly and ironically I wish to Hell I were governor. Kids like Daegert would never see the inside of the death chamber and guys like Cardozzi would get more than fourteen years. Dawes lit another cigarette and again walked to the window. Almost like a feudal lord Dawes stood surveying his domain. From the Hood- lamps in the court he could see the walls which enclosed Newrgate Peni- tentary. a tomb for the living dead. Work shops. stoterhouses, cell blocks, Hagged stone recreation yard spread themselves in meagre pano- rama within the narrow confines of the forbidding, all-enclosing. allvex- eluding walls. They cast deep shadows in whose sable depths the warden could visualize the legal murder he was about to administer. Will midnight ever come? he asked the silent walls. Too many nights like this would drive me nuts! His soliloquy was interrupted by Father Groetie. an old. grey-headed man who had been connected with the prison for almost forty years. He wanted to be alone. Warden. so I left. He told me eVerything before I left. You mean the true story? Yes. He said there was no point in keeping it a secret any longer. You know Daegert told. the court that he owed a huge debt to Stuart, and that he killed him because he was being pressed for the money. That. Page 27