South Dakota State College - Jack Rabbit Yearbook (Brookings, SD)

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. . . Someone to watch over me . . . Wayne King watches over Roger Dean, who Is wandering off some- where, and the bond vocalist, who is about to take a break. Wayne King, the Waltz King . . . played his way into the hearts of Staters as he appeared here this fall. King and his saxophone appeared in a two-hour concert. Although he is noted as the Waltz King his program went from waltzes to popular songs and to jazz. Just as his waltzes set everyone dreaming, his jazz bounced them right out of their chairs. C-v f v3oivln % Waltz King His two vocalists won the whole- hearted applause of the audience. Such songs as Josephine and Alexander ' s Rag Time Band were special audience favorites. King ' s stage manner of friendly jok- ing and mugging were both relaxing and enjoyable. At the same time he commanded the audience ' s interest like a true artist. Campus dignitaries gave a dignified hip hooray when the enrollment rock- eted to a new high of 2662! The fresh- man class was the largest with 1071. And the Ag division was plowed under by the engineers who topped the di- visional count with 713 slide rules to their favor. The entire Wayne King orchestra. Most ot the bond take a break as a trio ot musicians tootle away. Here is one of the high spots of the concert. Twenty-four

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Nothing like a man for men around the house. Morlene Longwood, Normo Tunt- land ond Anita Wcstcrgoord ploy hos- tesses to Larry Nesset, Hoppy and Selmer Hogcn. Come Into My Parlor Not every day do you walk into the girls ' dorm and find men in all the rooms. Not that they (the men) would object, but it just doesn ' t happen. How- ever, after approximately 592 hours of house-cleaning (grand total, that is) the gals were ready to welcome their guests to the WSGA open house. The entire scene looked something like an ant hill in full steam. Heard it said that one busy little ant paid his way through fall quarter by re-selling the candy he collected going from room to room. Never can tell though — it might be just a story. The first all-college mixer was the Union mixer. After a free movie in the auditorium, Staters rushed to the Union for free food. And if you got tired of playing bingo or ping pong, you could play let ' s hit each other over the head with the shuffle board mallet — or you could throw darts. Still haven ' t figured out why there wasn ' t a target to throw them at. Better late than never, the entertain- ment, Obert Knutson, arrived with his pantomime act. V. V. Volstorff pours the drinks as Barb Chombers and Bob Mocck look on open-mouthed. Mrs. Stoner seems occusfomcd to this sort of thing. Twenty-three

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Ljonc but Razor Razed The first weekend also brought the first football game. And the first pep rally . . . which many freshmen (bless their souls) attended and many upper- classmen (may they transfer to the Uni- versity) did not. Sadness reigned at the football game, for more than one reason, but mainly because of the burial of the razor. Black- gowned, solemn-faced, cigar-smoking pallbearers marched slowly onto the field. With much care and tearful con- sideration the razor was lowered to the ground. In a ceremony tinged with ut- most sadness Leon (a crumb off the old Graham cracker) Pfotenhauer rode in regal splendor onto the burial site. With a lump in his throat (it might have been his cigar) he read the last rites for the deceased razor. Throughout the course of this saddest of all sad ceremonies a long line of mourners wept great pools of tears into their handkerchiefs. To the co-eds the burial was indeed significant. They had lost their last chance for a really smooth date. Top, Judge Pfotenhouer orrives at the burial grounds in regal dignity, astride o magnificent black-and-white charger. Bottom left, the second girl from the left ond the third from the right don ' t seem to be taking the occasion seriously. Come, come, girls, let ' s hove no unseemly frivolity. Bottom right, the last and solemn rites are read over the inert Mr. Straight-Edge. Twenty-five