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Page 16 text:
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VILLAGE ROMANCING Closely surrounded by tall, sentinel-like firs, the village of Golden Rod lay nestled in a picturesque little valley, lazily basking in the sunshine of a June morning. A few sages, the eminent and wise personages of the village, had already arrived at the Golden Rod village post office (which joined the general grocery store) and had comfortably settled themselves in the only available chairs with their corn-cob pipes full of home-cured terbaccer,” and their high-booted feet propped against the posts supporting the roof. Others, who had unfortunately arrived too late to get chairs, were seated on the steps, while some were in the back part of the store, in the little room where the village championship checker games were contested. Today two old-timers were settling a debate on the red and black battlefield and justice was rapidly being demolished by the king's horsemen. In the front room of the grocery store, perched on the counter, knees crossed, hands clasping the handle of a broom at the top, and head resting on her hands, sat Sally Jane Perkins, the belle of the town, and the daughter of Sam Perkins. And so you have the typical village heroine—always beautiful, always innocent, and always having someone fall in love with her. Sally Jane went several steps better, for she had many village admirers. But, somehow, they seemed unreal—so did everything else—as if only a preparation for the wonder- ful day when her Prince Charming would come riding by as he did in the books which Sally Jane had read. But time passed, and the only hero Sally Jane knew was the village lad, Sim,—that is if anyone would call Romulus Simpkin, the life-long victim of hay fever, a hero. He was slow, awkward, and homely, but dependable Hay Fever Sim to Golden Rod. He talked little, was said to move most when he sneezed, and in short, was a total failure as a representative of man. I hough slow Romulus was constant in his devotion and weekly sent Sally Jane his usual gift of lemon drops. That little token always kept a warm place for Romulus in a little corner of her heart, and she did not have the desire to hurt him in any way. Pages could be written of the varied and many changes that occurred meantime in the village, and perhaps this story could be more interesting if I could relate how Hay Fever Sim ' became a great man, or tell of Sally Jane’s wonderful career, but I cannot. And now, “nigh onto thirty years later, we find the village still a village with perhaps a few additional houses. Hard roads have come and autos are parked close to the general store, which still remains. Sally Jane barely escaped being an old maid, but today we find her among clean white clothes gaily flapping in the breeze, in the yard of a cozy whitewashed bungalow Page Twelvi
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Page 15 text:
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from outside the University to give addresses on topics of general interest in each of the three languages. —Decaturian. The number of students enrolled at Monmouth College is 410. Of the 410 students 254 are returning, while 1 56 are new students. There are 61 seniors, 75 juniors, I 17 sophomores, 144 freshmen, and 13 special students. At a meeting of the Board of Trustees of Monmouth College several weeks ago it was decided to rush the work of the new college gym so that the building would be ready to be turned over to the college for acceptance by the middle of January. Phidelah Rice, one of the greatest living mon-actors, appeared in the first number of the Lecture Course at the auditorium on Friday evening, October 3. His reputation is nation- al and he is recognized as an authority in his art. Because of his mastery of expression he has been ranked with Irving. —Monmouth College Oracle. The third annual Community Fair was held at the Bono school house Friday afternoon and Saturday, October 1 1 and 12. On Friday evening the play, ‘‘Nothing But the Truth, was given by local talent. On Saturday were exhibits of afi kinds, a circus and a minstrel show. —Bono Breeze. The Treble Clef Club of Hyde Park will sing over the radio from the Daily News Station, WMAQ. It also has engagements to sing at Woodlawn Presbyterian Church and at the December meetings of the Teachers League. —Hyde Park Weekly. IF— If I were an English teacher I’d just say— Your lessons have been fine each day; I’d leave all the classics on the shelf. And let MacBeth weep over himself. If I were an algebra teacher I'd just say— You seem to get better day by day;” And if a chemistry teacher I’d chanced to be, I would charge a pretty big chemistry fee. If 1 were a Latin teacher I’d find out If Cicero did all we read about; And if in history I should teach. I’d excuse all answers out of reach. This is what I d do, if I was— But I can’t be what I’m not. So 1 11 do as usual to settle the fuss And answer each question, I cannot. —Aline Kroon. —Page Eleven—
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Page 17 text:
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with a picket fence in front and vines and flowers growing neatly around. “Hay Fever Sim” survived all obstacles and you may find him around the old grocery store where he and his son, Sim, run a filling station. Sim s filling station has become so popular that Golden Rod is Golden Rod no longer but Simp-kin s Corner. Sally Jane, the daughter, is generally found near the store daydreaming, as did the first Sally Jane years ago. —Lorene Martin. BE INFORMED (By John D. Rockabottom) Modern politics is becoming so corrupt and voters are so easily misled that it is becoming necessary to enlighten the people as to the true character and reputation of office seekers. In no other way can this be done so effectively as by the prominent political speakers of the day. At one time I was the most prominent speaker in the central west on the political platform. 1 always spent a great deal of time before the campaign really became warm to look up the true facts about those in question, and I always gave my honest opinion to the people of just what kind of office-holder each candidate would make. 1 was never so foolish, however, as to make the slightest assertion as to which candidate 1 really preferred or which I really thought had the most ability, because that would certainly have made me enemies and made me a less popular speaker. 1 am now too old to stand the strain of the exciting campaigns and so have retired from the political platform, although at every election the people holler and clamor for my much valued opinion of the new candidates and will not be satisfied until they have heard from me. In order to pacify them I have sent out John D. Rockabottom in my name to present my views to them. Mr. Rockabottom, although new in this work, is fast becoming the most noted man on the platform. He spoke at Paxton, one of the largest cities in the central west, a short time ago on the subject, Who Will Make the Best President? The entire population flocked to hear this great man and received his speech with the greatest enthusiasm. It was estimated that there were nearly thirty-five people present. His talk was as follows: Ladies and Gentlemen:—I feel it a great pleasure to be able to address such a large and intelligent audience. It is one of the greatest privileges of my life to be able to stand upon a platform and look into such a sea of faces as I am now gazing down upon. 1 have spoken in Chicago, St. Louis. Minneapolis, St. Paul, Detroit, Indianapolis, Louisville—in fact in most of the larger cities of the central west—but never in any of them have I talked to such a multitude as is now gathered together before me. Also let me say this to you, for it is the truth that none of these cities, large and attractive as they may be, can compare with the city of Paxton. It is the largest, finest, cleanest, most attractive and artistic city 1 have ever seen. Its public buildings show to outsiders the character, the pride, the thriftiness of its inhabitants. And so I want to repeat that 1 count this visit to Paxton as a privilege and an honor. Yes friends, I find it one of the greatest pleasures of my life. 1 shall always remember this visit to your city. 1 shall remember it all the rest of my life. I shall never forget it. No, my friends, I shall always remember it. No matter how many other grand and beautiful cities I visit, 1 shall always remember this one city, and no matter how many times in the future 1 revisit this same place, I shall always remember this one visit. 1 have not (Continued on Page 16) Page Thirteen—
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