University of Arkansas Fayetteville - Razorback Yearbook (Fayetteville, AR)

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diets, had suddenly decided they would rath¬ er pitch “horse shoes.” And the Tri Deltas? Ah, here at last we find perfect peace in the charming scene of Mama Hunt with Ruth Clay sitting on one knee and lone Otte perched on the other. On Saturday night the first student stomp of the semester took place. They say that a good time was had by all—I couldn’t say. After a year of such riots I should be able to take it, but I bruise so easily! At any rate, Mitch shone in perfect rhythms, in the middle of a flurry of Miss Whatsit, Mr. Whosit, and Hello-how-are-you-fine. (Why doesn’t someone develop a new line for the dances?) Sunday afternoon found the sororities ar¬ rayed in their best (and some of them cer¬ tainly approached the proverbial lilies of the field that had old Solomon beat), awaiting the arrival of the male population of the hill. That is Anne Brown Taylor greeting Hugh Humphries so enthusiastically. Nothing se¬ rious, though, just a couple of same home- towners. Arthur (H. R.) Wells, living up to his name of “Sweetheart,” is prominent in the crowd at the Pi Phi House, as well as the one at the Chio domicile, but how was he to know that he’d soon be deserting Julia Gunn Duff for that Clay woman from Joplin? These Sunday open house affairs are supposed to be for the benefit of the new lads and lassies, but Hardin seems to be the one dragging them in at the arrow lodge. At least, she was doing quite well, and the new¬ comer, Beverly Hopper, was forced into the background when our roving photographer passed that way. “Ditty” Curl, destined to become the light of Bill Lee’s life, was also among the merry¬ makers that bright and sunny afternoon. Her smile is slightly offset by the strained expres¬ sion on Mary Belle Derrick’s face (see illus¬ tration above). We wonder where Jimmie McDaniels could have been? Bill Ward among the admiring throng, surrounding the great Nellie B. and Nan Robinson. But, alas, school is no place for revelry— at least not more than nine-tenths of the time —and ’morrow dawned full of foreboding clouds indicating hours of intelligence tests and freshmen convocations, the first inklings that the new students had of the disillusion¬ ment that lay in wait for them .... college after all is something more than sitting on a grand piano playing a ukulele. Soon they must get their first taste of sitting in a class where they were supposed to behave as col¬ lege men and women, and display a knowl¬ edge of all subjects that would have put Solo¬ mon and his cohorts to shame. But before being permitted this delightful recreation, they must taste of the bitter fruit of having the registrar take from their startled clutches the family fortune which had been brought out of its hiding place and entrusted to their care. Never have we seen a place where people pushed and shoved and stood in line for hours, all for the privilege of tossing away a Page 10

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A CAMERA ' S EYE VIEW AS THE YEAR BEGINS “School days! School days! Dear old Golden Rule days!” I VHE school clays were right enough, but the Arkansas eds and co-ed friends who follow after the Greeks must have either forgotten the second line of the song or in their mad dash after the choice members of the group of first year students they mis¬ takenly read from the text, “Do unto others, before you get done.” At any rate that is the impression your correspondent received as he listened to the Pi Phi’s glibly chatter, “Na¬ tional Standing,” to all of the newcomers, and shuddered while the Sigma Chi ' s made the startling statement that the real name of the book isn’t “Nice Girls Don’t Swear,” but “Nice Girls Don’t Date Sigma Nu’s.” Of course, at the same time the Chi Omegas were proudly pointing to their Greek Amphi¬ theatre which is really a swell place to skate and—well, skate. The Kappa Sigs got around to cleaning their hotel so it would look invit¬ ing to the new lads and they’d believe that it really was a privilege to be allowed to help pay for it. (If you don’t believe the cleaning- part, see above shot.) They say that all is fair in love, war, and rushing. After the smoke of battle had float¬ ed away on the winds of hot air stirred up by the Greeks, it was easy to be seen that the White Cross brethren had ensnared John Jernigan and Andy Ponder. The Sig Alphs had managed to fill the “barn” again. The Pi Phis were clutching Ann Du Bard and Nan Robinson to their breasts and all the while setting it]) a mournful dirge for the seven Fayetteville rushees, who, though they had been earmarked as future archery ad- Page9

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few hard-earned shekels. But see the line below! When the picture was taken, Jenola Ferguson was so far back that the camera almost missed her, but when we returned five minutes later she had politicked her way to the head of the line. Bob McCann, lurking- in the background with that Philo Vance- Sherlock Holmes headgear, must have been looking even then for a good political layout. But where is Hilda Stroud? With the good old fee system at the Uni¬ versity all of the current expenses, debts, salaries, etc., must be met, and one of the new things that the students will get to pay for in 1936-’95 are the new buildings that we were so fortunate to get this year, with the help of Old Uncle Sam and the State of Arkansas. By some chance the building of all these new buildings did not require as much as the contractors expected them to and the result was that approximately one hundred thousand dollars was left over for the boys to then fight for, that is, to get it re-invested on the campus. This was to be done for a new field house, to take the place of the temporary one that we have had for the last twenty years or more. This also be¬ came known about the time that the student elections came along and the result was that both of the parties, student, had a lot of ma¬ terial for their platforms (so, what?) and they promised to either get that little nest egg- put toward the new field house or pay off the little war debt that the University now owes for the afore-mentioned new buildings. Well, the result was, or rather will be, decided by the new Board of Trustees which the Governor will ap¬ point and the students, as usual, will have their great amount to say in the final out¬ come of the matter. But it will all come out for the good in the end, and that end is for the ever Greater University of Arkansas, and it is you, and you, and you to help by doing your part. (Was something said about fees?) Another picture that we failed to get was the ever-active brothers of the White Cross Lodge getting in all of the good work during “Line Time,” making those rush dates— some one said that in one of those long, long- lines that a man (at the beginning) was pledged to the lodge and that by the time he reached the head of the line, he was proudly displaying- the well-known cross. (Fast work, boys, sounds bad for the group on the other hill.) But it sure was too bad we didn’t get a picture of the inimitable Gertie Pearson putting it over, by falling into step with Dean Jones and passing up the poor benighted souls who had been standing in line for hours waiting to see the dean. Only a few times a year do we see the students so zealous to do a thing, that they forsake all else to accomplish it. Registration, election day, and securing a copy of the RAZORBACK are among those things which call forth such Herculean effort on the part of Mr. Joseph College. However, there are a few exceptions to the rule, at which time Mr. Joseph C. gets a bit over-zealous, just before the well-known exam time and the day before that term paper is due to be in to that oh-so-unreasonable instructor, who insists that they must be in on time. But now for the rest of the song. The year begins and it’s “reactin ' , ’ritin’, and ’rithmetic.” Page 11