Showme, December, 1936Showme December, 1936 20081936/12image/jpegState Historical SocietyThese pages may be freely searched and displayed. Permission must be received for subsequent distribution in print or electronically. Please contact hollandm@missouri.edu for more information.Missouri Showme Magazine CollectionUniversity of Missouri Digital Library Production ServicesColumbia, Missouri108show193612Showme, December, 1936; by Students of the University of MissouriColumbia, MO 1936
All blank pages have been eliminated.
Showme
Camel Cigarettes
Prince Albert Cigarettes
The Showme
Show
"ALL THE DIRT THAT'S FIT TO PRINT"
Missouri
Showme
On the Cover
"Oh, Santy dear," breathlessly
exclaims the fair co-ed, as she
gazes vaingloriously at the newly-
acquired diamond bracelet. "How
can I ever thank you!"
"Well," stammers the jolly
little fellow, ogling at the maid-
en's thinly-clad charms, "well, it's
a bit chilly tonight and the north
pole is a long ways away and the
Mrs. is home, so.
Desiring to spend more time
in the sorority houses this year,
Santy arrived early, and it appears
as though he's doing all right by
himself. But he might know sor-
ority gals are a one-way proposi-
tion-take all and give nothing.
The last we heard as we stum-
bled out the door was Santy
mumbling something about "get-
ting pretty warm in here."
Introduction
Someday a young fellow by the
name of Paul Wright may be
carving up mountains like his
idol, Gutzon Borglum, or perhaps
he'll be modeling wild animals
for the Museum of Natural His-
tory, as is his ambition.
Sho w me proudly introduces
this talented 19-year-old sculptor,
who molded our frontpiece, to
you and to the world. Despite
being a native Missourian, born
VOLUME VI
0. 0. McINTYRE
Godfather
ROBERT HANNON MERRILL PANITT
Editor Busniess Manager
EDITORIAL STAFF
EDMON OCLE .Feature Editor
PHIL BRONSON . Feature Editor
John McNutt
Pat Smith
PORTER RANDALL .Theatre Editor
RAY PORTILLA .Humor Editor
MARK Cox .Sports Editor
BUSINESS STAFF
PeGGY PHELPS .Executive Secretary
JOY SMITH . Advertising Manager
Maddie Breinig
Jane Bradford
Maxwell Lynch
Stan Boughton
Louise Caffey
Rhoda Rheinhold
GEORGE PALMER .Promotion Manager
DAPHNE
CHARLES CALLISON .Circulation Manager
Ira Kohn
Charles Barker
MADDIE BREINIG . Exchange Manager
and raised in the invigorating
climate of Columbia, Paul should
go far with his skillful fingers
and clever designs. We wish him
success.
A bouquet to Mr. Bud English
of Estes Parks studio for his
artful photography and a vote of
thanks to Miss Gwendolyn
Knight, sister of. the Key, who
so graciously posed for the model.
The figure of Santa Claus might
be a likeness of our business man-
ager in one of his weaker mo-
ments. Your editor served as the
model for the dog.
DECEMBER, 1936
Rationale
Never change toboggans in the
middle of the hill!
But centuries ago some guy
switched horses in the middle of
the stream and got away with it.
Anyway the Showme never has
paid much heed to conventions.
We do hope, however, to con-
tinue the transformation of the
magazine which our predecessor
so valiantly undertook. Our goal
is a bigger and still better Show-
me, a publication worthy of the
University it represents and a
magazine of which the students
of Mizzou justly can be proud.
0
Next Month
With the coming of the new
year, Showme will take another
forward leap. Militant stands
shall be taken on certain big
issues (as yet we know not what).
The publication will have a higher
literary tone (whatever that is),
and shall be, generally, an all
around better magazine (we
hope). Also we hope to be firmly
rooted in a luxurious office in the
new journalism building, if and
when it ever opens, and that will
be as welcome as the end of this
column.
So without further ado, Show-
me wishes you a Merry Christmas
and may all your hangovers be
little ones.
THE EDITOR.
No. 4
The Missouri Showme is published monthly except during July and August by the Missouri chapter of Sigma Delta Chi, national professional
journalism fraternity, as the official humor and literary publication of the University of Missouri. Price: $1.00 per year; 15c the single copy.
Copyright 1936 by Missouri chapter of Sigma Delta Chi; original contents not be reprinted without permission. Permission given all recognized
exchanging college publications. Exclusive reprint rights granted to College Humor. Editorial and Business offices, 107-109 South Ninth Street;
office of publication, Artcraft Press, Virginia Bldg., Columbia, Mo. Not responsible for unsolicited manuscripts; postage must be enclosed for return.
Prince Albert Tobacco
("Learn by doing," a fine old slogan indeed but
hardly usable in approaching the above subject.
Therefore we are pleased to be able to present this
helpful serial by that noted authority, Miss Post.
Just call her Cedar.)
First, upon entering the home of the host or hostess
never shake hands with the butler, I did this once and
by getting a slick jiu jitsi hold on me he threw me
clear out into the gutter. While waiting for dinner to
be announced do not pace up and down the living
room like a caged lion, and cast longing glances
toward the dining room. If really so ravenous always
bring a small sandwich along. A very clever way of
eating it without causing a riot is to conceal it in your
handkerchief and while pretending to suffer from a
sudden attack of asthma, slyly snip off a bite, the size
depending upon the width of the jaw (from here it
looks like you could do away with the entire sand-
wich, and the piano).
If this method doesn't suit your gentle nature you
might choose the Syrian entrance (successfully intro-
duced by the Czar of Russia). This plan is very
simple. Instead of using the front entrance, make a
slight mistake and enter via el kitchen. While apolo-
gizing proceed on through the kitchen, all the time
slipping appetizing goodies into the pockets which
should help to stave off starvation.
When finally the dinner is announced don't hurry
into the dining room at too great a speed. It is best
to look very bored, all the time keeping your eye on
the hostess. If she proceeds like a lady all is well,
page four
but if she even looks like she is going to run for it, dig
in the old heels and show them how an old bread line
rusher looks. Under such conditions get your food
before the fight begins. This will happen very rarely
but we want our readers to be capable of handling any
difficult dinner party situation.
When seated at the table immediately count the
number of implements you have, and then those of
your neighbor. If you have fewer, stand up and
order a redeal or demand that he give you part of his.
Next, take a squint at your neighbors, and if there's
a pretty girl sitting on your left you are probably
going blind because you are sitting at the end of the
table and that's a statue of Caesar you are gazing at.
However, there might possibly be a honey on your
right, and if so, an introduction is essential. This is
sometimes done by slipping your hand over her knee
in a very friendly fashion. Watch your step, though.
Once I did this and when the girl kicked at me I
dodged. She kicked over the table and also pulled
out the light cord in doing so. I kept right on eating
as if nothing had happened and when the lights came
on I found I had eaten most of the Oriental rug and
two pet goldfish. (I knew damn well those things
were alive but I was too hungry to care.)
Where was I? Oh, yes. Always take your dinner
as a matter of course. Try and not do this.
-UTAH HUMBUG.
How To
Behave
At A
Formal
Dinner .
By Miss Saturday Evening Post
Old Gold Cigarettes
"NO, I'M NOT THE
FEMALE IMPERSONATOR"
"HE WON'T TAKE THE ROOM; HE SAID
HE SPECIFIED SEVEN GOLD-FISH"
"I TELL YOU I SAW IT DONE IN INDIA"
"DON'T GO AWAY MAD."
"I SAID TIGHTS, NOT LIGHTS!"
page seven
Co-ed Dilemma
A Survey of Dating Customs and Related Customs
-and what is Expected of the Girl
By AIMEE AMPLEBOTTOM
"To do, or not to do?" has been
a question that the girl has had
to answer since Adam estab-
lished the ancient custom of
courting back in the Garden of
Eden, and of all the gals who
have mulled the question over,
Eve's answer was probably the
easiest.
I am a co-ed in a large middle-
western university, am a mem-
ber of a sorority, have a reputa-
tion on the campus for "getting
around plenty"-to use a collo-
quialism. In the process of get-
around I have learned a few
things that are not listed in the
syllabus of the liberal arts course.
If the course was to be taught
-officially-it would probably
be listed in the catalogue: "122f.
and w. MEN AND MANNERS.
A rapid survey of dating and re-
lated customs-what is expected
of the girl, and what she is to do."
Yes, in reality the course is
taught! Without a doubt it is
taught more thoroughly and
quickly than any course actually
listed in the catalogue. Every
girl learns in short order what
is expected of her. What she is to
do is quite another thing-a thing
that each girl must decide for
herself. Sadly enough, however,
page eight
it is often very subtly decided
for her by her sorority sisters.
And on this decision to a large
degree hangs the girl's popularity
on the campus!
Popularity as devined by the
co-ed covers a multitude of
things. It consists of: first, be-
ing escorted to all dances, frater-
nity parties and what have you
by a presentable and eligible
male of the first water, and being
cut in on during the dance by a
rapid sucession of others of the
same species; second, seeing all
the shows, football and basket-
ball games, having Sunday din-
ner, and various and sundry other
little knick-knacks under finan-
cial motive power other than your
own; third, "getting by" in
courses on the minimum amount
of work-i. e. use the boy friend's
brain, which necessitates locat-
ing and cultivating a certain
number of intelligent males;
fourth, being seen at practically
all times-between classes, etc.-
in the company of at least one
male, preferably a fullback, pro-
vided, of course, that they are in
season.
To the lowly freshman pledge,
her older sister's successful ex-
ploitation of mankind in general
is at first a dazzling whirl, almost
too rapid to comprehend, but it
is soon smoothed out, and every-
thing becomes perfectly clear-
even method. The pledge also
finds that it is a bit doubtful just
who is doing the exploiting.
Taking it for granted that the
co-ed is fair so far as looks are
concerned, to be popular she must
be a good dancer-the boy friend
likes to be cut in on, whatever
he may say. She must be intelli-
gent and be able to find some-
thing to talk about in absolutely
nothing, in other words, have a
good "line"-because no man
likes to sit and flounder like a
fish out of water trying to find
something to say, and that is
what he will do if left to his own
resources.
If properly guided, he will talk
continuously about himself and
be perfectly content. On the other
hand, it is fatal to be visibly more
intelligent than your escort. One
must be "beautiful but dumb,"
but the co-ed finds that she must
be dumber with some men than
with others.
The average man in a univer-
sity dates girls in part for a pur-
(If you feel the urge, turn to
Page 13)
Chesterfield
Cigarettes
JINGLE BELLS
By PAT SMITH
It was the week before Christmas, and Susan Ra-
leigh was unhappy. She stood at the top of the
stairs, absorbed by the gay party in progress below
her, absent-mindedly smoothing with her hands the
sleek white gown, poinsettia-trimmed, that enhanced
her trim figure so romantically. It was one thing to
be the week before Christmas, and quite another to
have your only parent and relative in Zanzibar, South
Africa, in search of his precious constellations. She
reflected that it would have been fun to accept one of
the many invitations that her sorority sisters had
offered, but Christmas was no time to go barging in
on strangers, and besides she could get her term
papers done, or dash over to Kansas City to take in a
few plays during those two weeks. A member of the
stag line discovered her then and she tripped down
stairs in response to the many cries for "Black-eyed
Susan!" forgetting for the moment her self-pity and
depressed mood.
The Gamma Sig parties were always elaborate, and
this time the girls had truly splurged. An enormous
tree, making a merry splash of color, filled one corner
of the big room to the ceiling.
Larry Wilson, Susan's date, cut back three times in
succession before he had a chance to dance with her
long enough to say hello. Then he jerked her through
the kitchen door just as the next stag was tapping
his shoulder.
"Hey, and how are you, old dear. Remember me?
I'm the guy you asked tonight. I just thought I'd
make it an even number; this will be the two hun-
dred and twenty-second time I've asked you to wear
my pin, coming up." Away from the crowd and
laughter and music, Susan's melancholy mood re-
turned upon her with frightening intensity.
"And for the two hundred and twenty-second time,
no! I won't wear your pin!" she snapped, impatiently.
Larry sensed her feeling, and his smile faded sym-
pathetically.
"Why the stormy weather, pretty one? Can I
help?"
"Sorry, Larry. I didn't mean to be stormy. I'm
just tired. Tired of girls packing to go home, tired
of parties, tired of everything." Larry laughed.
"That's great! Then you're just in the mood to
go for a buzz with me during intermission, and, cross
my heart, there won't be another word said about
the pin."
The idea of a moonlight drive appealed to Susan,
and thirty minutes later found them speeding over a
sleek highway with Susan bundled in an evening wrap
and big, woolly blankets. The night was radiant and
page ten
crystalline, with a strange, suggestive brittleness in
the wind. Susan caught herself wondering again
what she would do for entertainment during the
vacation. "Darn vacations, and darn astronomers!"
she thought. Then something poignant in the icy
blast that was sweeping into the big roadster, made
Susan gasp.
"Larry, there's something in the air. It-it scares
me."
"Nothing in the air except you and me, lovely,"
Larry was saying, when it hit.
Smashing into their faces, swamping the seat of the
car, shrieking through the cylinders, laughing with
lusty, breath-taking merriment, the blizzard came
upon them mightily. Larry braved it for nearly five
minutes more; finally, there was a choking sound from
the exhaust, and then silence but for the howling
snowstorm. Now Susan was scared in earnest. She
heard Larry yell, "We're at least ten miles from town,
but I think there are houses near by. Come on!"
But Susan sat stiffly in the car, unmoving. Only
the savage cold kept her from crying. At last, Larry
picked her up and began carrying her through the
swirling panorama. She managed, "In the middle
ages they called this chivalry!" and then dissolved in
tears into his neck . . . an eternity later there was
light and warmth and a sweet woman's face above
her, saying, "Won't you have a little coffee, please?
It would do you so much good!" Susan took the
coffee and gulped it noisily. She made a cautious
survey of damages. Her hands and eyes still ached
from the cold, but she could wiggle her toes, and hear
-and see things. It was when she discovered that
she could see things that she saw Larry at an old-
fashioned telephone, giving directions. Dear Larry,
so competent, so protective! She looked about her.
It was an old farm-house, barren but clean. There
were three small children in the middle of the floor,
very curious about these two strangers who had been
thrust upon them by the blizzard. They were telling
her about Santa Claus, excitedly. But behind them,
the woman shook her head sadly. Her lips formed the
words, "not this year."
Suddenly, Susan knew how she was going to spend
her vacation and her money. Why, these poor people
were heaven-sent to a bored college girl who had no
place to go for Christmas! What a Christmas they
would have! A big tree in that corner, the biggest
turkey in town, a train and tracks, and dolls, and
books, and drums . . . .
"I'm awfully sorry this happened, dear. The lady
has kindly offered to put us up until they can come
after us in the morning. I-" Larry began, but was
stopped by Susan's brilliant smile.
"Larry, a word with you, please." she begged,
leading him into a shabby living-room.
"Yes, darling," said the perplexed Larry.
She put her arms around his neck. "Please, Larry,"
she whispered, "may I wear your pin?"
AND NOW READ JINGLE BELLS
as MERRILL PANITT would write it
SUE-the belle of Theta Gam-
ma Delta house - poised
gracefully from the living room
chandelier thinking melancholy
thoughts. Mom was in Vladivos-
tok looking for Sue's father who
had been missing for twenty
years.
Sue was sad. Mom had been
so kind to her-and now she had
gone to fulfill that long-cherished
ambition. It was awful being
alone only a week before Christ-
mas-something within her told
her so. So Sue looked down at
the party. It was a gay thing-
everybody was cheery. That's
what made Sue feel so different.
Suddenly one of the boys from
Bruce's place spotted her and
yelled-"C'mon down and do the
bumps with me." She did and
was cut fifteen times in twenty
minutes-which was an all time
Theta Gamma Delta record. The
last fellow to dance with her was
Larry who cooed in her sylph-
like ear, "Please-oh please-for
the 1,986,456,000,342 time-will
you wear my pin?"
"Scram, bum," she stormed,
and the band played "Stormy
Weather." She apologized for
the band and Larry came back
from the crap game and danced
with her some more. "How about
a ride out to Hinkson," Larry
pleaded.
The idea of a brisk ride in his
open 1919 Ford with the temper-
ature at two below appealed to
her. It was so stuffy inside. So
they got out and within a half
hour they were in a corn field all
bundled up in blankets. It was
heavenly there - she thought her
ears would drop off, and her teeth
chattered - biting big open
wounds in his lips.
Suddenly it bashed her in the
face-they were picked up and
swirled about by the atmosphere.
The blizzard had come.
They could hear the wind
shrieking merrily through the
cylinders of the car making a
noise like-"Wheee, glump biff-
whee, glump biff-whee glump
biff." The blizzard had come up-
on them making swamps under
her and ripping Hell out of Sue's
$3.75 permanent. It was really a
helluva night to be out in-and
Larry was just about out.
They stood it for about six
hours but Larry got chilly in his
Palm Beach suit (Barth's-$17.95
advt.) and they looked for the
car but it was exhausted. So
Larry, with a gleam in his good
eye started looking for a small but
clean farm house with three kids
and no Santy Claus. They found
it after a three month search and
Larry jangled the old fashioned
telephone which gives this story
the name, "Jingle Bells." He
couldn't get the operator at Ste-
phens and so Sue played with the
kids.
She saw the brats waiting for
Santa Claus but behind them the
old gal was operating a neon
sign which said-"Not Tonight,
Josephine.'
Sue made up her mind when
Larry said-"we'll have to put
up here for the winter in the
spare room. It isn't much, but it's
home."
And Sue, sensing his disap-
pointment, said, "Sure, babe, if
you must have an excuse-I'll
wear your pin." And she set
about carving turkeys and dress-
ing Christmas trees for the three
brats. She knew how she'd spend
the winter!!
Sir Walter
Raliegh Tobacco
COMMUNISTS'
ALPHABET
By Alyce Hamilton and Caraway Seed
Poet's License No. 68543
A for Assassin; he's A-Number-One,
Artist, Indeed, with a knife or a gun.
B stands for bomb, a means of persuasion
Found most effective on any occasion.
C's for Comrade, who advocates sharing
Whatever you own and whatever you're wearing.
D is for Dictator, man of affairs,
Who'd kick his own grandmother down the stairs.
E for Entrepreneur, a career he will carve;
And those working under him ?-Hell, let them starve!
F is for Fascist, by pillage and plunder
He's getting away with the Communist's thunder.
G is for Government (Down with) and Gas-
The easiest way out for the Upper Class.
H is for Hammer, which, swung by the fist,
Deeply impresses the Capitalist.
I for Industrialist, piling up jack;
On the Great Day he'll be holding the sack.
J is for Jail, better known as the Jug,
Just home, sweet home for Comrade or Thug.
K is for Kremlin where Lenin lies stuffed;
He tried a bold plan but it seems that he muffed.
L for Laborer wielding his sickle,
In love with Hard Work but decidedly fickle.
M for the Masses, Militia, and day
When many are crowned with the Queen of the May.
N is for Nihlist, Nazi, and Nertz
To plutocrat owners of white-collared shirts.
O for the much-widowed little Olga
Who dunks her mates in the bloody Volga.
P stands for Plutocrat, master at shirking;
His motive in life is to live without working.
Q for Quintuplets; do the same if you can;
It's safer to favor the Five-Year Plan.
I is for Riot Squad, Cossacks supreme;
They kill little babies to hear the kids scream.
S is for Striker with stick and with rock;
He punched the employer instead of the clock.
T for Tovarich with dagger and gat;
He'd slit a man's throat at the drop of a hat.
U for United (Front, not the States)
When the populace (Common) consolidates.
V is for Vodka for comrades to quaff;
If you drink Bourbon whiskey your head'll roll off.
W for Worker, with hammer and tool;
Commisar is at leisure, he's nobody's fool.
X marks the spot which they dug with a pick
For the magnate whose mail had an ominous tick.
Y is the end of Reactionary
A corpse that nobody bothers to bury.
Z for the Zebra that wears a striped coat,
Like the one furnished Browder at Terre Haute.
-TEXAS RANGER
FRATERNITY MANAGEMENT
A Personal Service for College Fraternities and Sororities
CO-ED DILEMMA
pose as old as man himself. Yes,
of course, he likes feminine com-
panionship-a pretty girl who is
a good dancer, and who has a
sparkling line of talk. Yes, he
wants to be seen at all the vari-
ous collegiate haunts with as
many of the campus queens as he
can manage.
But it's the man who pays-
financially, at least. It costs the
man to take a date to the show,
it costs him to do everything he
and she does, and he really gets
very little for his money.
Consequently, dates inevitably
end up on a lonely lane, a dark
corner of the campus, a secluded
spot on the sorority lawn, or in
any other place where a couple
may pet-mug, in the latest
slang-with a minimum of inter-
ruptions. Here is where the girl
makes her decision-here she de-
cides what degree, and what sort
of publicity will surround her.
When you have a date with
Bill Jones you may well know
that Bill's fraternity will get
Bill's estimation of just what sort
of a gal you are. One of Bill's
brothers will tell somebody in
another house, and soon the
grapevine telegraph has taken it
the rounds. Yes, given long
enough, it is quite probable that
one of your sisters wil tell you
how you and Bill got along. In
fact, they'll ask you what you see
in the mug.
It sounds like an organization,
and it is. However, I don't think
it is a deliberate of malicious or-
ganization, but for the most part
merely casual. Some one starts
talking about women, and they're
off. The same thing happens in
the sorority house, only there the
man is the goat.
Organization, or whatver it is,
if when a man takes you to the
movies you lean away from him
to look around the off-side of the
person sitting in front of you, if
you persist in taking your hand
away from his, if you order an
expensive sandwich and drink at
the snack after the show, sit in
the extreme cornr oef the car on
the way home, and cap it all by
gently pecking him on the cheek
at the door and gushing: "Oh,
Fred, I've had a lovely evening,"
you can jolly well bet your last
dime that you won't have an-
other date with Fred, and prob-
ably not with any of his frater-
nity brothers.
How a girl may become popu-
lar and stay popular on any cam-
pus can be explained in five short
words: by fooling the male sex
She must let the boy friend
neck her and paw her a little bit,
but always stop him. He will go
home highly disgusted, but when
he wakes up the next morning
he is ready to try again. In
short, keep him chasing after
something he will never get, with-
out letting him know that he will
never get it. But beware. The
girl with a perverted sense of
how to become popular, gets no-
where. Her dates are few and far
between, and usually "blind to
boot, and her reputation will
spread around the campus with
incredible rapidity.
But how to solve the dilemma?
So far I have not answered the
question, and I very seriously
doubt that it will ever be an-
swered to the complete and ab-
solute satisfaction of all con-
cerned. I have merely aired a
few personal observations on the
subject. They are observations
that every girl has probably
made.
Kaywoodie
Pipes
"HONEST, I BROKE IT IN THE
YALE-HARVARD GAME
TIGER HOTEL
LINDSEY'S
FOUND SCRAWLED ON A TABLE TOP
Four beers at Charley's Dixie
Will may you rather pixie,
But when you come to number five
You'll really begin to feel alive.
And if your constitution
Can stand a revolution,
You'll order number six and seven,
And then you'll think you are in heaven.
But if your constitution's pore
You'd better order seven more;
'Cause even though you feel quite stewed
You'll find yourself in a better mood.
And if your date says, "Nix, enough!"
Don't put up with that old stuff.
Tell her that you're just beginning
And that it really isn't sinning.
Still if she wants no more brew,
Then this is what you ought to do:
Just say, "My dear, there is the door!"
While you order seven more.
And then a taxi she will take
Before she sees her great mistake.
But on the way she'll get to thinkin'
Of you back there in the Dixie drinkin'
"Back to Charley's," she will bellow,
"I've decided he's a damn fine fellow!"
Back she'll come, her heart a-flutter;
Her apologies to you she'll mutter.
Quite disdainfully you will leer,
"Come, let's have no tears, my dear,
For salt contaminates my beer.
I know your love is, O, so true,
But the rest of the drinks are all on you."
OFF-CAMPUS MELODRAMA
"You'd be safe-perfectly safe," he pleaded.
"But people-people always know those things.
I'd be that kind of a girl. No-I don't dare. I can't.
But, oh-I do want to!" She buried her face in her
hands.
"There, there," he soothed. "Just leave everything
to me. You're making mountains out of molehills.
Not another soul shall even suspect-just you and I.
You trust me, don't you? Please decide this thing
the right way-you know it's what you really want."
Her shoulders shook. "But I-I can't!" she
sobbed. "If my mother ever found out-it would
kill her! And the girls at the house-no, no! Some-
one would guess-someone always does."
He stood gravely, quietly, watching her.
Suddenly, she straightened. Courage, the light of
decision, shone in her eyes. "Walter," she said, de-
liberately, distinctly-"I am ready."
And the hairdersser began to apply the peroxide.
-MARGARET REEVES.
Estes-Parks Studio
LUCAS BROS.
AN APPLICATION FOR AN ATHLETIC
SCHOLARSHIP TO A UNIVERSITY
Name?
Name used in the last school attended?
Age? (Application from anyone over fifty will not be
considered seriously.)
Can you read and write? (If candidate is unable to
read and write English, this application blank
should be filled out by a Notary Public.)
What remuneration shall you expect each month?
What was your salary at the last school attended?
What have you been offered from other universities?
Shall you expect more than you received last year?
Less?
How often will you expect news pictures and feature
stories of yourself?
Do you have your own press agent?
Do you photograph well? Are you camera shy?
Can you write your own autograph?
If not, can you secure the services of someone who can?
What is your favorite fraternity?
Will you accept pledgeship from this fraternity?
If you do not choose a fraternity, would you prefer the
president's house?
Will you mention the name of the school in advertise-
ments for soap, cigarettes, cereals, etc. that you
may endorse from time to time?
What time will it be convenient for you to go to school ?
Shall we send a taxi for you every morning, or would
you prefer your own car?
Will you be in school after the football season? If
not, where shall we send your weekly check?
WABASH CAVEMAN
*
"It won't be wrong now," said the modern girl as
she was led to the altar. -MOUNTAIN GOAT.
*
Once there was the Scotchman who was so close-
that he got his face slapped. -OWL.
PHILIPS & CO.
Hotel
Melbourne
The Tragedy of Humor
The day was cold, the hour was late,
But the editor's work all had to wait,
With nervous steps he paced the floor
And looked askance at the card he bore . . .
Then suddenly, quickly . . . a timorous rap!
With puzzled expression he answered the tap,
It was a frosh, with face scared and wet;
"I-sent you a joke-did you get it yet ?"
The editor groaned as he looked at the card . .
"Not yet," he shrieked . . ."but I'm trying hard!"
-N. Y. U. VARIETIES.
The Jacqueline
Shop
SHE-"Do you think you're Santa Claus?"
HE-"No, why?"
SHE-"Then leave my stockings alone."
C. C. N. Y. MERCURY.
*
GUEST (to host in new home)-Hello, old pal, how
do you find it here?
Host-Walk right upstairs, and then two doors to
the left. -SIREN.
-SIREN.
The Jacqueline
Shop
Lucky Strike
Cigarettes