Snow College - Snowonian Yearbook (Ephraim, UT)

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On Nothing: By ROBERT FUNK About the most difficult task I can think of is the writing of an informal essay. It is an easy matter to scribble together a few words, but when those words are supposed to be arranged in a logical, and yet interesting manner, upon almost any subject, the task joins that category of problems known as “hard.” In the first place, that almost any subject” has to be limited to only one, and that one must be upon something with which you are thoroughly acquainted”—so thoroughly acquainted that you can write it with wit and fluency. All this is quite true, but if you have no such subject, what then? I have run the entire gamut of possible topics for informal essays, and as yet, I have found no Inspiration. Of course, having nothing to write upon. I could choose that as a subject, but whoever heard of nothing as a subject for an essay? Still, if I am to write an essay, I must have some sort of topic, and as nothing is as good as something, in this case, it is the subject with which I shall attempt to show that I am well qualified to join that immortal band of workers known as willing but useless authors.” There is something fascinating and yet ominous about that word nothing and the things associated with it. For instance, my teacher gave me about a half dozen clean sheets of paper and then told me to answer some questions which were written upon the blackboard. I pondered over those questions for a few moments and then began answering them as rapidly as I could. After writing for an hour, I succeeded In filling each sheet with some well-spaced words. I handed my paper in and then confidently waited for the ICO per cent such a paper should receive. Days linked themselves together to form a processional chain before my teacher saw fit to return my paper. I looked all over that paper Inside and out— but found nothing. With heated Indignation. I took my paper to the teacher and asked for my grade, and when he said that I had received nothing, I became fully convinced of the liberality of teachers in giving nothing. Nothing does not only plague me in my lessons, but I also find it everywhere I go. Hats, heads, door knobs, apples, and eyes all present that non-cornered square, which Is the sign of nothing. Even my sleep Is troubled by nightmares of nothing. I go to bed and dream that I am a king, a hero, a scientist, or an inventor; but since these are only dreams built from my imagination, they are really nothing. But my sleep is not always troubled with dreams, for often I have tired myself so completely with the day's activities that I fall into a void so deep, so like death, that only one word can explain it nothing. In geography I learned that the earth is round, and in algebra I received conclusive proof that a curved line ending in itself stands for nothing. That being the case. I must be living on a world of nothing: but if I am. then I am nothing, which is impossible: and so I am left In a controversy with the left half of my brain debating with my right over nothing. However, I have one consolation; if I am nothing, my fellow bipeds arc also nothing. When I came to this conclusion in my reasoning, I decided to put It to a test. I have a very antagonistic enemy. Every day he manages to make my life miserable in some way or another—hence I received the happy thought of using him to prove my theory on nothing. The next time I saw him, I did not give him the opportunity to pester me instead, I walked up to him and then put all my force behind my right fist, which was aimed In the general direction of his head. The blow landed all right and Mr. Enemy stretched his form on the sidewalk. All that was as it should lx ; but instead of proving to lx nothing, he proved to be something as my battered frame and a hospital bill show. This was rather a set back to my reasoning: however, I wasn't wholly discouraged. I re-checked my reasoning and then tried various other experiments to prove its validity. I stuck pins in myself, I pounded on doors. 1 kicked trees, and I leased animals. In every case, I fount my reasoning to be at fault, since each experiment proved nothing to be something. And so, looking at it from all sides and from all conceivable angles, I am sure that to make this world safe and sane nothing” must be eliminated from it. To do this, all great scientists, religionists, mediclsts, economists. sociologists and teachers should be called together to hold a council on how to rid the world of nothing. Think of the history, the inventions, and the arguments that would arise from a meeting on nothing. Worlds would be created, conquered, and destroyed; space would be used up; and man made infinite in his greatness— which of course, would be nothing. It would be safe to say nothing in such a meeting and yet to keep on the subject— in fact, it would be a inecca for the deaf and dumb, for they would be able to talk and hear about nothing without altering their condition. Animals, men, children, and women could get along in perfect harmony at a meeting on nothing and thus it would carry over into the animal world, but also into the only-here-for-a-minute abodes of the humans. Thus peace would descend upon the earth, carrying for its banners, peace, prosperity, and happiness. All this would be from nothing, and hence the results obtained would be nothing, resulting in a cycle; for one would have to start again at the beginning, which was nothing, and so would continue to be nothing until somebody could have the happy inspiration to call nothing something,” and thus cause the world to run on in its usual way. A Threat Snowflakes So white and soft Sink to a bed of down: If old Sol catches you. you'll roast Or drown. —S. S. MEN ARE FOUR: He who knows, and knows he knows— He is wise follow him. He who knows, and knows not he knows — He is asleep wake him. He who knows not, and knows not he knows not-He is a fool shun him. He who knows not, and knows he knows not— He is a child—leach him. Selected. Type department motto. 1932: SMILE, but don't let it gel the best of you. Page Twenty

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Thus the Days Passed Sept. 14-15- Welcome to Snow! The sophomores register with case, but the freshics—poor freshies, they really didn't know about all this red tape. Sept. 16- Instruction begins in all classes with one exception- the would-be pedagogues started on their way yesterday. Sept. 25- The joint dance adds a few more names to my list of new friends. Sept. 26- Have you ever heard of the night walkers and peace disturbers? Well, that's what the batchers call a frolic. Sept. 30- What’s a good remedy for tired feet? Remember the night at Maple canyon? Oct. 9- Another Joint dance—I rather like 'em. Oct 14- The football field is christened Snow Badger Lair.” The last minute touchdown takes B. Y. off her feet. Oct. 23- Badgers accept a 7-6 beating from the Westminster Parsons at Salt Lake. Big Athletic Ball at Dreamland. October 24- The Batchers meet at a Saturday night get-to-gether” in the alfalfa patch adjacent to the Phillips' residence. Oct. 28- Why is everything so tip-top? Sh-sh-the State Board of Education is here. Oct. 31- The Castle Valley Club holds its first party at Ephraim Canyon. Nov. 5- “Up the trail the emblem 'S’ is shining”- and literally. Nov. 6—Snow College Founders' Day; parade, assembly. Snow vs. B. A. C. football game, and then the big dance. Nov. 16- The big sisters entertain their “little sisters” at an Arnica Club Luncheon. Nov. 20—A big day today. Opal, Millie and Frances win places in the Hebcr J. Grant oratorical contest. The Play Production class presents Clarence.” Nov. 30- Thanksgiving is over und now we have all had our turkey and have seen the folks, we can settle down to business again—maybe. Nov. 30 - Dec. 4— The leaves begin to turn for it is examination week. Dec. 4- End of quarter. Everyone celebrates at the High School play. Dec. 7—Registration again—it will soon become a habit— and we have about twenty new students. Dec. 11- Sevierians present their competitive program. Thanks to Millie for her discourse on Sevier County. Dec. 18—Who says there ain't” no Santa Claus? He must have received our letter because he is here— good old Santa and his good old bag! Joint school dance at Dreamland. Dec. 23- Christmas recess begins and everyone packs his suitcase to travel homeward. Jan. 4—Here we are back at the same old grind and each one of us feels better because of his New Year's resolutions. Jan. 15--This is a record breaking day! They're off! I mean the hairy chin-trimmings which have been display by the Fuller Brush Men. Then there is the Publication Ball—Louise Fowels and Ralph Black-ham arc chosen representative students. Jan. 29— A large burst of applause rises from the audience during Kempy - Snow has defeated Dixie at St. George for the second time in history. Feb. 5—If Rainbow were here, she would think she had suddenly looked into a mirror. Thanks to Lady Christie, Chairman Dee and the committees for this eventful College Prom. Feb. 6—Another party at Rambling shanty—a real card and chili party. Faculty members as well as Batchers wait patiently for the last news of the Junior College League. Feb. 22—We celebrate Washington's birthday with an assembly. Opal and Reta read their essays and the training school makes a flag. Feb. 26--The public speaking class has its final examination at the dinner table. Why can’t I get a break— a—ha. but tonight is the leap year dance—now is my chance! March 4—Winter Quarter ends—'nuff said. March 7—Again we make a collection of O. K’s from the heads of the departments ... in other words we register. March 11—The Sigma Delts hold their annual formal party which consisteh of a tray luncheon, program, and dance. March 14- When the fresides flash green before the sophomores, it means that freshic week is here—and how! March 18—Thank goodness, the freshies are coming back to earth. Their competitive program is a semiwindup for the week, but we will not stop until after the dance in Dreamland tonight. March 24—The chemistry class parties while everyone else goes to the fire. March 30- Reese Anderson, Kenn Peterson and Duane Peterson won places in the Phillips extemporaneous speaking contest. April 1—Regardless of its being Fool's Day, everyone is making a date for the joint school dance tonight— more fun! April 7.—Pat us on the back! Snow College is officially listed as an accredited Junior College! April 15— Just too tired to live- and yet too happy to die”—a result of participating in “S”-day activities: a general clean-up, a removal of the fence around the campus, a climb up to the “S,” and then a mix-well at Dreamland Hall—a full day. April 22- Scribblers pay tribute to Shakespeare in their competitive program. What a pair of lunatics—Opal and Alfred. April 23- Snow wins the Inlcrmountain Junior College track meet at Provo (61-60). April 25—An exhibition of Prof. B. F. Larsen paintings is in the college auditorium this week. The Sevierians are adjusting themselves on a hay-rack to be conveyed to the power house. April 26- The Seniors from the Salina High arc looking us over today. The Seniors from the Manti and Ephraim High schools are going to join us in a matinee dance. April 29- Prof. B. F. Larsen gives a lecture on art. Again we join in a joint dance at Dreamland. May 6—Co-ed Day—and what a day! May 10-15.—Plenty of everything doing these days—too much to list. May 27—One more year is brought to a close- exams, graduation and good-byes. The fellow worth while Is the man who can smile When his garters come down In the middle of the aisle. Remember the batcher who was so lazy he put popcorn into his pancakes so they would turn over by themselves. Page Nineteen

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A Child’s Answer My Blue Delight A baby dead— Where did it go? “I don't know. It was just snuffed out I guess? 'Snuffed out--out where,’ you ask ? Ah, Child, that baby went Where the whiteness goes When snow melts. Spenser Squire. March Welcome March, thou month of prophecy. Thou changeling! Thou, winter’s last convulsion Before the birth of spring. Welcome March, good friend of mine! You'll soon restore The summer songsters once again To homes among the pines. The green things wake and give a glad Adieu to winter's reign, To see you usher out the gloom And bring the spring again. Spenser Squire. Sleep Sleep comes And all cares cease, The conscious life fades out. While in my soul the clamor dies Away. Spenser Squire. At Night Street lights break the dark Into weird shadows That take peculiar forms. Forms that mould my mind In moments of reverie. As I pause and sec the shadows Interplay upon the grass: I see black diamonds shaped Where shadows of the tree bowls cross, And sec beyond the diamonds, Myriad fingered, shadow branches Caress the tender blades. Spenser Squire. “You” You're not an airy, fairy queen— You're not a magic, mystic dream— You’re not a saintly, angel child— Or dainty elf, from forest wild. But you are you, a lovely reality— Living and learning, a human specialty— Loving and laughing—free- unafraid: Sighing and dreaming—a typical maid. —Dorothy Jcssen. the A cloud of girlish sweetness— A vision of feminine neatness— A mist of heavenly completeness -In blue tonight A dance of elfin grace— As though moving softly through space— A smile of a pretty face— My blue delight. —Dorothy Jcssen. Tears Cool, soothing, sorrowful tears— Like refreshing rain, we find: Quick smarting, humiliating tears — An opportune veil to hide behind: Hot scalding, angry tears— Impulsive, rushing, smypathctic tears— Like Lava from a volcano: Like soothing balm of Gileo; Steady, flowing, patient tcars-As from a flower doomed to die; Bright, glistening, happy tears— Like a rainbow in the sky. Tears—useless? Well, they arc to the soul and heart As the rain is of the earth a part. Refreshing then, as summer rain Washing clean the earth again. Rain- useless? The earth cries- never! Tears- futile? The heart cries- never! — Dorothy Jcssen. Values Life's forms arc nothing. If no higher being they attain Than is attained by dust Of earth. Spenser Squire. Snow College Home of high hopes, Earnest endeavor, Cherished dreams. Challenging comradeships. And mellowing memories. We would save you From the fell hand Of dissolution; We would keep you intact Down through the years That we might return to you As to a shrine. —F. Y. Don't worry if your job is small And your rewards arc few; Remember that the mighty oak Was once a nut like you. Shun idleness, it is the rust that attaches itself to most brilliant metals. Page Twenty-one