Missouri Showme November, 1948 Missouri Showme November, 1948 2008 1948/11 image/jpeg University of Missouri Special Collections, Archives and Rare Book Division These 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 Collection University of Missouri Digital Library Production Services Columbia, Missouri 108 show194811

Missouri Showme November, 1948; by Students of the University of Missouri Columbia, MO 1948

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Missouri Showme November 1948 25 cents Homecoming Issue Camel Cigarettes Harzfeld's Dorn-Cloney Letters to Showme . . we transmitted the cartoon cover (October Showme) and the Chicago Tribune used it on the picture page of their . . . home edition. Also understand the N. Y. News used it. It worked in fine with the campaign temperatures. Ed Hoffman, Acme Newspictures, Inc. Kansas City . . I am enjoying your magazine again this year, though not quite as much as last year. James Moran, 442 K Street, Columbia You keep buying, Jim, and we'll keep trying. Write us again this month. Ed. . . . This will acknowledge receipt of the September issue of MISSOURI SHOWME addressed to the President. Please be assured that your thought in sending him a copy of your magazine is much appreciated. William D. Hassett, Secretary to the President, The White House We wonder if Mr. President has had time to read it. Ed. . . The October issue of Showme was one of the worst. I realize that every issue can't be tops, but how have you sunk so low! . . . Charles Nelson Barnard's story with the ambiguous title of Vision of the Blind was ter- rible. I hope you can do better . . . Maybe it was blind haste that prompted you to include John Trim- ble's Genuine Imported Briar. At any rate, why waste such good pictures on such an amateur attempt! . . Yours with sympathy . . John C. Burkhardt, 611 Providence Road, Columbia Dear John! Ed. As a loyal alumnus of the Univer- sity of Missouri and all its institutions, and as an admirer of frank humor, subtle humor, and all other varieties, I want to express my interest in Showme by subscribing for the cur- rent academic year . . . George J. Staubus, University of Buffalo, New York As a former Susie . . . I find that the only thing in Columbia I can't live without is Showme . . . Your Stephens satires are priceless, your car- toons without equal . . . You could print all the cracks that we on the Standard were forced to overlook--- in the interests of good taste (?) Joan Luce, Bennington College, Bennington, Vt. The Standard, dear Joan, hasn't changed a bit. Ed. Thanks for the September Show- me. From the looks of this issue, this year's series should surpass even the high standard set by Mr. Walker's fine editorship. Harold Morrison, Jr. George Tech, Atlanta, Ga. It will be hard to do, Harold. Ed. The Cup Board Suzanne's Campus Florist Versatile is indeed the term to ap- ply to Photo Editor John Trimble. This month's cover, done in oils, is an example of what we mean. John was looking 'way ahead last summer when he first "roughed up" a sketch for the cover of this Home- coming Issue. Then he spent spare moments for two months doing the actual painting. Reproduction of such a cover is a "first" for Showme. It involves-to use a technical term-a process of "camera separation," i.e. the original painting, in full color, has been re- produced without the use of separate color plates. Orchids to our printer for a good job. Artist Trimble won't say who the sad little guy actually is. Seems the local gendarmerie are currently look- ing with disfavor on certain forms of speculation. Showme Salesgirls Phil Agee, Alpha Phi Freddy Parker, Kappa Alpha Theta Hilda Baskind, Alpha Epsilon Phi Dorothy Carl, Alpha Chi Omega Arlene Brattler, Chi Omega Dorothy Dubach, Delta Gamma Peggy Shrader, Gamma Phi Beta Corinne Sartorius, Zeta Tau Alpha Special Salesmen Al Abner Walter Cliffe Homer Ball Roger Bell Jim Hovey Bill Starke Christian College Representative Kit McKartney STAFF Editor-in-Chief Charles Nelson Barnard Associate Editors Bill Gabriel, Jr. Richard R. Sanders Business Manager Phil Sparano Ass't Bus. Mgr. William Herr Advertising Director Jean Suffill Art Editor Flash Fairfield Photo Editors Sinclair Rogers John Trimble Feature Editor Diana Lee Pattison Fiction Editor William Diehl Joke Editor Don Dunn Sales Managers William McCarter Keith Chader Art Staff Nick Bova Pat Bauman Terry Rees Tom Ware Ron Galloway Bill Davey Photo Staff Jack Organ Bob Zeitinger Advertising Staff Jim Higgins Thomas P. Keating Norma Marmoci Don Garber Features Bob Rowe Jerry Litner Saul Gellerman Secretaries Vera Stenger Anna Lee Plotz Nancy Shatz Missouri Showme YOUR CAMPUS HUMOR MAGAZINE Dear Reader: This is the Homecoming Issue we pro- mised. Last month we said Swami would tip his turban to a great M.U. football team. Swami does. The Oklahoma game notwithstand- ing, the Ohio State game notwithstanding -- it's still a great team, made up of our schoolmates: guys who are trying hard. Last month was a gratifying one for Showme. The election cover was reproduced in newspapers across the nation and selec- tions from the magazine were circulated in Columbia via facsimile, thus making ours the first college humor magazine to appear on this media. Our old friend Jesse Wrench looked over last month's issue and came up with the comment, "If you'd learn to'use a rap- ier instead of a battle axe, you might be a good magazine." As a result, all staff mem- bers have thrown away their pens and are dipping their foils into ink wells. The next should be a trenchant issue. See ya in Jesse! Sincerely, Editor-in-Chief Volume XXVI November, 1948 Number 3 Published monthly during the school year by students of the University of Missouri. Printed by Modern Litho-Print Co., Jefferson City, Mo., Anton Hiesberger, owner. All copyrights reserved. Contributions from the students of the University welcomed, but the editors cannot assume responsibility for unsolicited material. Address con- tributions to Missouri SHOWME, Jay H. Neff Hall, University of Missouri, Columbia, Mo. Subscription rates: $2.00 in Columbia for nine issues during the school year, $2.50 by mail. Single issues, 25 cents. 5 THE great crowd roars, with blood in eye To see the warriors fight and die But suffering most is the balt In gross indifference to it all. Around the Columns Overheard In a local cinema a pert feminine voice behind us saying, "I'll give you 'til the end of the newsreel to stop that." November . . . the eleventh hour of the old year . . . from the Latin, meaning "nine" . . . from the campus, mean- ing "home-coming" . . from the classroom, meaning mid-semester exams . . . thirty days hath Home- coming . . . fifteen to get ready; fif- teen to recover . . . cardboard Jay- hawks on front lawns . . . ramp.nt Tigers, filled with straw . . . alums in big cars . . . vets with prosperous bulges . hip pockets with significant bulges . . . who's got a ticket? . . and how much? . . . in the end zone, you say? That's O. K. Anything to get in . . . home game Saturdays . . . circus Saturdays . . . carnival spirit in the air . . . buy a program . . . buy a "mum" . . . and as long as you're going for cokes, get me some . . . last walk to the Stadium this year . . . last look at the team . . . buy a program . . . buy a mum . . . Faurot's a hero . . . Faurot's a bum . . . beat K.U. and beat 'em good . . . make McBride eat Jayhawk nests . . . draw the Tiger a great big beer . . . give the team a great big cheer . . . . . . and when it's over join the crowds . . . walk in the streets or honk your horn . . . say goodbye to the bulging vests 'til next year . . . it's been nice to see you again . . . what was it now? Class of 1910? . . . those were the days . . . remember old George? Sure you do . . . he made the touchdown in '08 . . . sweep up the programs and the mums . . . say Goodbye to football . . . 'til next year. By Way of Review Every once in a while we run across something in contemporary prose that has explicit application to local cus- tom or to segments of M. U. society. We found something in the October Atlantic which, regardless of your sentiments regarding fraternities and/ or sororities, seemed to us a provoking piece of writing. If you agree with its author, you'll get several hearty chuckles from the reading; if you don't, at least you have the stimulus for a lively bull session. Writing in the urbane style of the august Atlantic, "C.W.M." says of the fraternity system in general, "Fra- ternity Row is a neighborhood of teen- age Little Scorpion's Clubs, each with its secret grip, passwords, and recogni- tion signals. It may well be that all fraternities are using the same grip without knowing it." "C.W.M." continues with extra- ordinary perception, "Fraternity house mortgages usually run for a fixed term of, say two hundred years and repre- sent about 150 percent of the prop- erty's estimated market value as of the spring of 1929." Next, he strikes at the Greek chow line, thus: "Fraternity meals, like the fraternity mortgage-and probably in consequence of it-are distinctive, and few Americans not confined in a state prison eat anything comparable to them as a steady diet. Consumption of ketchup along Fraternity Row is estimated at 1.27 gallons per week per brother." The Atlantic article concludes with the observation that, "of all the my- steries in the fraternity system, none is more inexplicable than the complete disappearance of the fraternity man, as such, after his graduation from college." Now, we don't know who "C.W. M." is, and therefore we don't know how well qualified he (or she) is to write on' such a critical topic in these critical times. We're sure, however, that it would have interested the At- lantic's readers - and Showme's - to know whether this sarcastic savant writes from personal experience. Whatever, we can hear the bull ses- sion barristers taking sides already. Bosomy Promotion You've heard it before, but we thought we'd mention it again: our heroines of contemporary fiction. Per- haps they reflect a trend in public taste; perhaps they reveal a hunger in private lives. Whatever the reason for their existence, there is a demand -and therefore, a supply. To sell a book to Johnny and Jane Public these days, it must fit a pat- tern-now pretty well fixed-that 7 goes something like this: (1) On the cover jacket, there should be a vol- uptuous young thing in crinoline, her bosom well exposed; her hair wind- blown, and her lips very carmine. Al- most any setting is suitable to display this beauty, but the deck of a four- master or the rocky edge of an Eng- lish coastline is ideal. (2) In adver- tising the book, such terms as Bondage, Gamble for Happiness, Amorous Ex- citement, Intimate Saga, and Sold Into Marriage will be of great promotional value. Use them liberally. (3) Be sure that you make it apparent that the poor girl is a composite of Amber, Scarlett, Queen Anne, and Zola's Nana. Be sure also that she is illegi- timate and that she has never cooked a meal in her life. She should be familiar with dueling and midnight escapes in a coach and four. (4) She must have more than one lover. If she does not submit to the charms of a pirate captain, a British colonial of- ficer, a Civil War spy and a court chamberlain within the first four chapters, she is a failure by contem- porary standards. (5) If possible, have her fall in love with her own brother, or-for variety-have her sister fall in love with the "man" of your narrative. This will lead you naturally into a very salable case of fratricide or matricide or incest-any one of which will win the critics raves for your "courage." (6) Finally, give your book away ABSOLUTELY FREE through the medium of a book club. Followed faithfully, the above rules can make a successful novelist out of any of us. Jalousie We've been looking at the automo- bile advertisements for years. Every year they look better, and the sleek models depicted whet our appetite more and more. The advertising agencies are trying their seductive best, and their recent efforts seem to hit a peak. Every car, whether it be a four- cylinder "economy" job, or a ponder- ous "nothing could be finer" model is made to look like an amphibious ver- sion of the battleship Missouri on a carefree trip through YellowstonePark. Proportion is a thing forgotten. Grill work looms at the reader's eyes like Bronco Marusic in full grid attire. Wheels are fat and massive, like great white-walled doughnuts leaping over whatever rocky obstacles may be in the happy tourists' path. Happy chil- dren always grin from the car win- dows as if riding in a mobile play pen, and the picture won't be true Americana if a cocker spaniel isn't drooling out a front window. Daddy smiles at the open road, looking a lit- tle bit like Nelson Eddy and Mommy, young and pert, sits twelve feet away from Daddy on the front seat. For years, as we say, we've enjoyed all this. Somehow, it seemed within the limits of our attainments some- day. But now, a new element has been injected. No longer is it suffi- cient to show the car. Oh no! In 1948, the damn thing has to be parked next to a swimming pool, so that its occupants can grin from the front seat at poolside loungers with high- balls in hand. This is too much. Walking, we are sure, is more health- ful anyway. Facilities Inadequate One of the most oft-repeated com- ments made by M.U. students regard- ing the community in which we live is that "facilities are inadequate." The phrase is so often used that-like a word repeated until it is meaningless -we hear it now with the sort of boredom accorded all trite sayings. Sad to relate, however, the remark -trite or not-is true. Perhaps the following will illustrate. It is a true story. It happened to us. It has probably happened to you. Supper at a Columbia restaurant: we waited 15 minutes to be seated. Once seated, we had an opportunity to enjoy the very attractive interior appointments of the establishment for another 35 minutes before getting our chow. This done, we called a cab and waited another 15 minutes. (True enough, it was a rainy night and the Pop Mizzou cabs were busy.) When we got to the movies, there was a line in which we stood 20 minutes. After the movies, another 20 minute wait for a cab, another 15 minute wait for service in a local beanery. Total time spent waiting: 120 min- utes-2 hours! This is not a reflection on present establishments in Columbia. It is not a condemnation of the restauranteur who can only seat and serve just so many people at a time. It is not a complaint that the theatres are not big enough. It is none of this. It is a question: why in Sam Hill, with demand for goods and services at a high tide in Columbia and with present "facilities inadequate," doesn't good old American enterprize capital- ism get to work and make some money for itself? And save us some time. Buzz Buzz Buzz Buzz For as long as we can remember, we have heard people in Columbia say that the best way to make a tele- phone connection with a line that is busy and in much demand, is to dial the first three numbers and then wait a while before dialing the fourth. Proponents of this method, how- ever, were never sure of what they were doing. Some admitted that per- haps it was just chance; others swore that the trick worked. None had any technical information to support their hypothesis. The theory behind their thinking, however, is that while the mechanisms of the dial telephone system are wait- ing for you to select and dial the fourth number, no other party who might be competing for the same line can succeed. Being of a somewhat curious na- ture, we decided to run this story down by asking the man who should know best: the repair clerk. He was very nice to us when we asked him, albeit the question seemed to be a new one on him. After a moment's reflection on the technicalities of his trade, he replied that the trick would not work; that while three members remain dialed -without the fourth-the telephone being called is not held up or put out of service to others. He explained it this way: the first two digits of the exchange go through to selectors. The third goes to a con- nector (a mechanism of one hundred lines, arranged ten square). When the third number is dialed, an arm selects one column of ten telephones, but makes no connection until the fourth number tells the arm which one of the ten you want. Of course, if you want to keep your own phone out of service (the repair man tells us) this is a very good way to do it. Shopper's Guide For those of us who are inclined to enjoy the luxury of smoking in bed without incurring the wrath of every fire chief west of Suez, Yankee in- genuity has come up with yet another gadget. We suppose it should come under the general classification of "cigar- ette holder," but after taking one look at it, we think it must have been crossed with an oriental hookah. Ex- tending from an ivory mouthpiece is a long, flexible tube which is of suf- ficient extension to reach from the bed-ridden smoker to the floor. At the other end, this tube-like affair is affixed to a combination ash tray and cigarette holder, the tray being at- tached to the underside of the holder. We're going to get one right away. Under Two Flags? The lack of school spirit among stu- dents at the University has at last reached such proportions so as to com- mand the combined and simultaneous attention of top University officials. For several years, particularly since the war, we have heard unconditional acknowledgment from students and faculty members alike that M.U.'s esprit de corps was at a low ebb. Now it is official. At a recent special meeting of the Student Government Association, University president Middlebush, Vice- President Brady, and the Deans of Men and Women faced the problem square- ly, came up with no solution, but with several interesting comments from which we believe the genesis of a solution could spring. Divisional interests, say the officials, are in part responsible for the apathe- tic manner in which most students view their University as a whole. A little over a year ago, the venerable Jesse Wrench struck a blow on the same anvil when he attacked fraterni- ties and sororities and factions within departments of the University as sel- fish cliques, more interested in their own affairs than in the affairs of the school of which they are a part. If this is the becalmed vortex of what should be a turbulent pride in Old Mizzou, we offer the suggestion that local and private loyalties may well continue to exist without doing so at the expense of a much larger loyalty. After all, the most fevrent Brook- lynite and the most voluble Texan still salute the Stars & Stripes. At the University of Missouri, the chapter house need not replace the columns in our hearts. 9 CANDIDLY MIZZOU Old School Spirit. JOHN TRIMBLE-SHOWME TIGER NIGHT started this year's M. U. spirit rolling. Torhes lit up, cheering started, and the team was introduced. Jesse Wrench missed the celebration, but his enthusiasm for Mizzou cheering was tnere. 10 BITTER EXCITEMENT is recorded by SHOWME'S camera in the faces of these students at the games. How excited can you get? CAROUSEL STUDIO LITTLE ROOTER, yes, but a solid backer of the Tigers. His dad wants him to be an All-American on the M. U. squad of 1964. He's Wilbur Volz son. SINCLAIR ROGERS-- SHOWME ALUMNI are getting a big kick out of this year's school spirit. These old grads are glad to pay three dollars for a chance to wave their arms and yell for Alma Mater. GIFF HAMPSHIRE HOME AGAIN, after scuttling Navy, 35-14, the Tiger gridmen received a royal welcome organized by the Ags. Students turned out "en masse" to parade the team through town with torches and all the trimmings. In Washington, team members shook hands with President Truman. Back home, they get rural music and parades. 11 SINCLAIR ROGERS-SHOWME TIGER CLAWS, uninhibited (but official) M. U. cheering squad, is the largest group of its kind in the country. Its job is to set off the chain reaction of spirit at every game. Any herpetologist can identify the rite shown above. It's a snake dance, the Claws' specialty. These "lettermen" get as much eA.rcise as any. SINCLAIR ROGERS--SHOWME BEHIND THE STANDS action is typified in this picture. This unprejudiced football fan will continue celebrating a victory, whichever team wins. This kind of spirit is O. K. It's sincere. JOHN TRIMBLE-SHOWME HAM ACT of the season was the Cosmos' bet with their Tulsa brethren--a Boone County ham against a dry oil well on the Sooner game. 12 SINCLAIR ROGERS-SHOWME SAD STEED, indeed, was Peruna, mascot of the SMU team, after watching the Tigers boot his fellow Mustangs from the nation's top ten. Doaker felt about the same way, spectators report. SINCLAIR ROGERS-SHOWME COACH DON FAUROT was housted on the shoulders of his victorious varsity after the SMU game. He was United Press coach- of-the-week for beating Doak. Now. he's Showme's photo-of-the-month. Next week he'll be the man-who-beat-K. U. Mr. Faurot, the Tigers, the alumns, and spirit-minded students deserve plenty of credit for Missouri's liveliest post-war season. 13 With the Greatest of Ease by Bill Diehl I don't remember what the hospital at Cerignola looked like. I can't re- member the cracks on the walls or the nurses or how often they changcd the sheets. I don't remember because cracks and nurses and sheets didn't mean anything to me while I was there. I do remember that the soldier in the cot across from mine had lost both arms on the beach coming in and he cried all the time. And the man in the cot next to his was blinded and never said a word. And there was the smell of death and iodaform every- where. Benny was in the cot next to mine. He looked terrible. He was gray. He knew he was dying and I guess I knew it too. I knew it when I saw him lying beside me on the white beach. He lay there in bed beside me for four days without saying anything, trying to fight back the tears that kept running down his face . . . four days without saying a word. On the fifth night I awoke and heard him calling my name. His voice was weak, like the echo of a whisper in an empty theatre. "Yeah," I said, "I'm right over here, Benny." "Sam . . . if you ever see my mother . . .don't tell her about this . . . don't ever tell her about this . . . tell her I died out there somewhere . tell her that. ." "I'll tell her, Benny." He didn't say anymore. A little while later they came and took him out and the next morning the doctor told me it was a hemorrhage and there was nothing they could do to stop it. I felt all washed out. Nothing there had any meaning to me anymore. Benny . . . with his books and his stories and his enthusiasm over little things . . .the professor and the teacher whose words were lessons . . . who smiled shyly when the rest of the guys in the outfit called him "Prof" . . . who wanted to get to Rome to see the art museums and the Vatican, not the women and the vino like the rest of us . . . Benny was gone. He was a lot of things. He was the one I'd like to have teach my kids in school and the one I'd vote for and the one I'd sit and listen to in church and the one I'd like to have take my kid's tonsils out and help my wife have her first baby. Benny was a lot of things. Then suddenly he was a pine box, a couple of dog tags, an empty cot in the hospital and a white cross among many white crosses. The next morning I didn't think about doctors and nurses and cracks in the wall when they wheeled me out of the room. I didn't think about scalpels or saws or whatever it is they use when they cut. And when I slowly realized that they were wheel- ing me back and I didn't have any legs anymore I somehow didn't give a damn. That was in the hospital at Cerig- nola. The carnival was like a crazy dream full of lights and noise that suddenly pops up before you when you're walk- ing in a fog. Everything up to then was black. A black, blurry fog. Then I was moving awkwardly out of a cab and standing in front of the lights and the noise and the back fog was moving away. I was home. To me, home could have been Scran- ton, Philly, Albany or Chicago. Wherever the carnival put up its tents, that was home and I had al- ways loved it. It was something I had never tired of, from the time I drove stakes in the work gang, until I became a headliner. Maybe it was the lights and the noise and the bark- ers singing to the suckers. Maybe it was the faces of the smart city guys getting fooled by the fakers or the faces of the kids. Maybe I loved it because it wasn't any phonier than the rest of the world. The pinheads, the fat ladies, the midgets, were just as human as the next guy. They all ate, slept, had kids and dyd. And they all thought just like te rest of us. Or maybe I loved it because it was home. Nothing had changed. Ernie was still on the main gate, with his loud bow tie and drooping panama hat. The set-up was even the same . . . the pitch tents, then the concessions, then the rides and the freak shows and finally the main show right at the head of everything. There were a couple of new tents and the streamers had been repainted but under the shine it was still the same place. Her name was still on top. Actual- ly it was our name-The Flying An- gellos, only now they had a Spaniard in my place. Our real name was Webster but Angello looked better on the posters so Angello it was. The Spaniard wasn't very good but when Cathy was on the swings nobody even noticed him. She was just that beau- tiful and just that good. I wanted to walk down the fairway and watch the faces of the old timers as they sold their bill of goods but I didn't. I was tired and my stumps were hurting and I didn't want to be looked at like I belonged in the freak tent so I went around back to our trailer and waited for her. I could hear the band brassing it up in the big tent and the crowd applauding and Charlie Taylor's voice barking in the background. And then she was standing in the doorway. She was even more beautiful than I had remembered her. Her breath was still coming hard and her face was red and flushed from the excite- ment and matched her flaming hair. She stood there looking at me for a moment then cried, "Sam, oh Sam ." and she was just as soft as she looked. We did the east coast and the north- ern states during the summer and worked around through upper Michi- gan and down into Ohio as fall rolled in. Keeping on the move was good. The gang was pretty good to me and Jake Cantor, the boss, kept me busy hawking for the side shows and run- ning the pitch tents. But it's a long way from the pitch tents on the fairway to the swings in the big tent. I always made the last show of the evening and stood in the performer's entrance watching her. I wanted to be up there with her, watching her go through a couple of flips and then feeling her strong hands wrap around my wrists and feel the tug of the - (Continued on page 20) "Best damned passing team I ever saw." 15 JOHN TRIMBLE-SHOWME COFFEE is the elixir of the bourgeoisie. It precipitates the tars of beverages, dissolves the scums of braunschweigers, and dispells the fogs of revelry. If you're a socialite, give it a try. Twelve cups at wake-up time will keep you from snoozing through your morning lecture. Another cup will keep you in bed for a week. How to Wake Up eVERY morning 11,428 students at M.U. make some sort of an attempt to get tip. The aggregate will-power, muscle power and brain-power going into this daily project is incalculable. Pledge-wake-up-man-power expended would probably send the Queen Eliza- beth around the world a couple of times before sunrise., while it is even possible that the deafening ring of an estimated 3,500 student alarm clocks 16 could be heard all the way to the back row of Waters Auditorium. Typical of the battle of drowsiness is the student who last semester made twelve hours S and three hours F. When poppa had finished flogging him on receipt of his transcript, this poor lad confessed his dilemmi. He had been living in a quiet, happy student residence. On the first day of the new semester he sprang happily from bed, trotted briskly to his three- hour 7:30 and answered a cheery "present sir" to the initial roll-call. All this effort wore him out so com- pletely that he decided, for the sake of his health, he should sleep through the class on Wednesday. By Friday this sleeping habit was so firmly entrenched that he was psy- chologically unable to get up early thereafter. He snapped at well-mean- ing wake-up men, smashed tingling alarm clocks, and waged such a suc- cessful battle in defense of his pillowed fortress that he never made his 7:30 lecture again. In an effort to prevent any more such twigs being bent, Showme pre- sents a brieftwopages of instructions on combating this menace. With illustrations. ALARMS are found to be effective for most students. Those who find them useless are: (1) dull-heads who sleep through them, and (2) geniuses who outwit them. Dull-heads are hopeless, but cases of clock-outwitters (above) have been cured by a few extra hours of partying each night. This befogs a usually crafty mind, leaving th ztudent helpless. VIOLENCE is the method of over-organized groups, where bands of strong-armed young pledges are authorized to roam the halls in search of innocent sleepers. DON'T GO TO BED and you won't have to worry about getting up on time. It's easy to line up an all-night party any evening during Homecoming season. 17 Since 1891 by Diana Pattison Harvard vs. Yale. Army vs. Navy. Michigan vs. Minnesota. They're all great football rivalries, made so by years of tradition that clings to them like ivy to Jesse Hall. But, add to them Missouri vs. Kan- sas-the oldest gridiron grudge west of the Mississippi and today one of the nation's best known Turkey Day classics. Tigers have been eating Jayhawk meat and Jayhawks have been in the Tigers' fur since 1891 when the now- famous series began. Only in 1918, when there was a general cessation of games due to W W I, was the string of contests broken. The game to be played at Memorial Stadium next week will be the 57th renewal of hostilities. Exposition Park in Kansas City was the site of the first battle in 1891. The crowd was estimated at two thou- sand and they paid 25c and 50c to see the strange, new game. Spectators stood on the sidelines and followed the play up and down the field. Ac- cording to an old account of the game, the audience was a heterogeneous group, made up of collegians, socialites, and baseball fans. The latter were not up on the points of the game, but the enthusiasm of the college youths was contageous. Everybody warmed up to the game as it progressed, and as the uninitiated began to catch on to the finer points of the game, they became as wildly hilarious as the hun- dreds of young men sporting the Crimson & Blue of Kansas or the Black & Gold of Missouri. Before the boys went back to their studies, the "Rock Chalk Jayhawk" yell was known'all over Kansas City, and fash- ion notes described the Kansas players as wearing "swanky box-like coats, tight-fitting trousers, derbies, and smoking Sweet Caporal cigarettes." In 1890 and '91, the present site of the M.U. library was used as the gridiron. But with the firm installa- tion of football in the life of Mizzou, activities were transferred to what is 18 now Rollins Field. In those days, it was a matter of going from one pas- ture to a better one. The second game of the series, in 1892, was again played at Exposition Park, on Thanksgiving Day. In those days, a team had three downs in which to make five yards for a first down. K.U. made a lot of them and went on to win the game. The players were still without helmets in 1892, depending on long shaggy hair to pro- tct their skulls. The protection was sl.ght. Don Faurot's part in next week's contest will be limited to coaching his team from the bench and all the physical activity the Bengal mentor will get will be a few excited gyrations in front of the Tiger quarters. But in 1893, the Missouri coach was an integral part of the team. Aroused by two successive defeats, the Tigers brought H. O. Robinson, a Tufts Col- lege star, from the east and the new player-coach led his charges to a 12-4 victory. In 1893, helping the ball carrier was permitted by the rules- or lack of them-and a downed run- ner could be pulled along the ground by his teammates. Rival players were also entitled to jump on and pull in the opposite direction, res"lting in tug- o-war games with the fallen ball car- rier serving as the rope. In 1898, the Tiger eleven was weakened by the absence of Captain Ad Hill, detained in Cuba by the Span- ish-American War. In 1899, however, Ad was back in Columbia and the Tigers were at full strength again. But the game that endears the M.U.- K.U. rivalry to every old grad was in 1901. In that year, Kansas had won "then it's all settled! The three of us will go out tonight andc have a big time." every game on their schedule and Miz- zou was without a single victory. But the Bengals, conceding nothing, swept the Jayhawks aside and came off with an 18-12 win. In 1902, the series was shifted to Sportsman's Park in K. C. and ten thousand fans saw the game. In 1907, for some now-unknown reason, the game was played in St. Joseph, but re- turned to Kansas City the following year. The twenty-year-old rivalry became officially a Homecoming-Thanksgiv- ing tradition in 1911 at Rollins Field, and has alternated between Columbia and Lawrence ever since. Next Thursday, as you sit in the Stadium to see the 1948 versions of Tigers and Jayhawk teams, you will be looking at a half century of pro- gress in sportsmanship and at a foot- ball rivalry which now matches any in the country in hoary tradition. THE END "Young lady, I'll bet your mother would be angry if she saw you in that skimpy bathing suit." "I'll say she would! It's hers." i * A girl we don't know got a job with an advertising agency-giving away little boxes of candy to the pub- lic. She'd just finished her first day's work when she met an old friend whom she hadn't seen in quite a while. "Oh, Madge," said the friend, "I've just heard the news that you're going to get married." "Yes, I am, in January," said Madge. "How wonderful! What are you doing now?" "Nothing much," said Madge, "just giving away free samples." * * A woman finally found she could get a divorce from her husband be- cause of his flat feet. His feet were in the wrong flat. Columbia Opticians Woolf Brothers Dean's Miller's Greatest of Ease . . (Continued from page 15) bar behind my knees. I wanted to be in the big tent with her after the crowd had gone, trying some new act, helping her with it, knowing how much she loved me by the way she looked at me and by the way her voice had bells in it when she spoke. I wanted to hear the yells of the crowd below me and hear the drums rolling and feel the silence in the tent when I did somthing that looked good from down there. I wanted a lot of things. So I made the last show every eve- ning and watched and dreamed and then went back to the trailer and waited for her to come and help me to bed. Our toughest act was a swing change in mid-air, with me doing a double flip over her. It had taken us six months to perfect it and we had done it for the first time in Cleveland, years before. I remem- ber how proud we had both been and how we had celebrated in a little Piz- zeria outside of town all by ourselves. And then we were back in Cleve- land and she was going to try the stunt again. Only this time the Spaniard was going to be helping her and she was going to do the double flip. He was pretty bad, really. In regular times he might have been a pretty good second rate tumbler but that's all. But they worked hard on it and so when we got to Cleveland they decided to try it. I stood in the entrance watching them that night. The drums were rolling and the crowd was gaping up at the roof, nervously fingering their hat-bands and pop-corn sacks. And then the drums stopped and she was twisting gracefully over him. And then a woman somewhere in the audi- ence screamed and I felt my nails dig holes into my palms and the sweat push through my skin all over my face. And then it was all over and they were back on the ground taking their bows. And I could hear the boss saying, "That was great, real great. Just like the old days. How'd you like the plant in the crowd . . . the dame screaming I mean? What an idea. Christ, when she let loose I thought the whole audience was go- ing to .drop dead." And I hobbled nervously back to the tent with my hands all wet and my heart pounding holes in my ears and my body shaking all over . . . I sat there for a while and then got up and walked stiffly across the mud to the main tent. It was dark and quiet and the coke bottles and peanut shells were still strewn around the ground. I went over to the low bars that they use to warm-up on and wrapped my hands around the cold rod. It felt good in my hands and I tried to swing a couple of times but I couldn't control myself. I became aware of the dead weight dangling below me and I kept trying desperate- ly to control the swing-realizing how important it was but not knowing why. I tried to swing the legs up over my head and then my hands slipped and I felt myself falling away from the bar. I twisted around and hit the ground hard and my face mashed into the damp sawdust. I don't know how long I lay there before I finally tried to push myself up but when I did I felt the straps fall off my shoulders and the pressure ease on the stumps. I dragged myself slowly across the ground towards the entrance to the tent. I started think- ing about Benny, and all the Bennies, and how much they had that I would never have. I thought about Benny who had so much even without his legs or arms or eyes. And I thought about how useless I was, about the applause I would never hear again and the bell's in Cathy's voice that weren't ringing as much as they used to and the lights and the noise and the peo- ple who weren't as important as they had been. After that night I stopped trying to fight that washed-out feeling that had been gnawing at me for so long. I let it gnaw. I got so I wanted to laugh at the stupid people who came to the pitch show and tried to throw warped rings around pegs that were just a little too big to be fitted around. I tried laughing at everything but it was the kind of laughter you hear at a board meeting when the boss cracks a joke that isn't very funny and all his "yes" men laugh anyway. I tried walking off places by myself but I got tired of dragging my phoney legs around. I stopped going to the show a (Continued on next page) Gibson's Apparel Susie Stephens by Nicki H.R. Mueller Florist "Wonderful! A sneak reverse off a split-T, with Jones handing the ball to Wykowski who laterals to Schroeder who fakes a pass and knifes his way through tackle . . ." EDDIE'S MEN'S TOGGERY Lamb's Jewelry every night because there wasn't any sense in it. Finally I didn't do any- thing. I just sat around waiting for the black, shapeless fog to close in. We were doing southern Pennsyl- vania, traveling across the mountains toward Philly, when I noticed the sign one day. The carnival was play- ing a little town just outside of Har- risburg and right in the center of town they had one of those signs that gives the direction and mileage of all the cities and towns and honky- tonks around. It was right there in the middle . . . Granger . . . seven- teen miles. And I guess Benny knew that someday I was going to find my- self struggling off the bus in Granger and looking up their address in the phone book and taking a cab out through a quiet, homey neighborhood which wasn't quite as wonderful as it had seemed to him. The house was nice . . . a little brick place with pretty shutters, a yard big enough to hold a couple of chairs in the summer and a little porch just big enough to keep you dry if it was raining. She was a pretty woman in her late fifties . . . with hair that was just beginning to show her age and creases in her face that worry had put there 'a little prematurely. She knew me, my business, everything about me he had known. She even remembered Cathy's name from his letters. And she showed me everything. His pic- tures from kindergarten right through college, his rock collection, his library, his diploma, his pennants, the football programs jammed against the mirror, a kite the wind had blown apart years before, his first sling-shot, hanging on the wall. . . I saw everything he had called his own since he had been old enough to start throwing junk in a desk drawer. She had them all right where he had left them. And I saw the letter she had re- ceived from the chaplain telling her where he was buried. "That's all they'd tell me," she said, "just where he was buried and nothing else. Nothing about how it happened." "He had it easy," I told her, "on the beach when we were coming in. It was very fast." "Were you with him?" "Yeah, I was with him." "Was it very bad?" "It wasn't bad at all. It was quick, like somebody turning off the lights." That sounded awfully hard after I said it. "He told me a lot about you. How talented you were and how you per- formed for the boys once in . . . I think it was North Carolina, wasn't it?" "Yes m'am." "He admired you very much." "He admired me?" "I remember he told me that you were lucky because you had so much that other people didn't have." "But I . . ." "He admired so much in everyone." "M'am, I . . ." "I think he was happy. The boys in your outfit made him happy. That was good." "I'll have to go now." "You'll come aagin, won't you, Sam?" "I'll come back again if I'm any where near." "Thank you, Sam . . ." A bus ticket was all it took . . . a bus ticket and a little woman who kept football programs and the torn remnants of a kid's first kite . . . The tents were dark when I got back. The pitch tents were closed for the night . . . the poster of Lila, the fat lady, flapped gently under the shadowed light of a street lamp . (Continued on page 26) Hathman House The STEIN CLUB Homecoming At Ole Mizzou RADER'S SNACK SHACK Barth's GRANT'S SPORTING GOODS Greatest of Ease . (Continued from page 23) the horses on the merry-go-round were covered up for the night. The main tent, big, silent, empty . the swing- hanging dormant and the nets below, waiting . . . no bands, no people, no pop-corn sacks and women screaming . . . nothing but silence . . . and the sound of fingers struggling with buckles and the re- lief of pressure on stumps . . . a coat falling away from shoulders and the slow process, hand over hand, to the top of the tent . . . a well-resined bar held tightly in nervous hands . . then the slow, cool arc of the trapeze, swinging back and forth . . . a voice whispering, "This is your chance. This is the lights and the noise and the people. This is five years ago and tomorrow all wrapped up in one." . . . a hundred Bennies were down below, yelling and clapping and buying soda for their kids and playing in the bands . . and it wasn't hard . . . it wasn't hard to move a legless body between my arms and move it back and finally get back to the ropes and hang there looking down at the empty benches, imagining they were full of people all applauding . . . I slid down the wire hand over hand and dropped beside the pole. I was breathing hard and the sweat was running down my face and into my mouth. I was tired and soaked to the skin and my heart was pounding a hole in my chest but I felt good. And then I saw her . . . standing in the entrance where I had stood so many nights. and she was clapping her hands and coming over to me and she was smiling and that look was in her eyes and she said, "Welcome home, Sam . . ." and the bells were back in her voice. THE END Miss Graham: "I know he's rich, but isn't he too old to be considered eligible?" Miss Cracker: "My dear, he's too eligible to be considered old." Courtship is that period during which a girl decides whether or not she can do better. » * Silks and satins and laces and pearls, Automobiles and a yacht, Cannot replace true love, dear girls, But they certainly help a lot. Since bottoms and tops of pajamas So seldom are worn as a whole, Why shouldn't we check on the wear- ers By taking a national poll, And then, with the figures to guide us, Engage in a business of swaps With those who wear only the bot- toms, And those who wear only the tops? Wife: "Oh, John, the woman next door has a hat exactly like my new one." Hubby: "And I suppose you want me to buy you another?" Wife: "Well, it would be cheaper than moving." She was only a second-hand deal- er's daughter; and that's why she wouldn't allow much on the old davenport. * * You can never tell how a girl will turn out until her parents turn in. *. * Floorwalker: And just why did the salesgirl slap you, sir? Customer: I dunno. All I said was, "Will you take something off for cash?" * * "Darling, this cake is delicious. Did you buy it yourself?" * * Two of three girls, who had grown up together, married, and thereafter, continually titted their spinster friend with tactless remarks about her un- happy condition. She laughed off their comments good-naturedly until one day they went a bit too far. "Now tell us truthfully," they pes- tered, "have you ever really had a chance to marry?" With a withering glance, she re- torted, "Suppose you ask your two husbands." The Pen Point Neukomm s Gay-Ray Liquor Store MISSOURI TELEPHONE COMPANY A University student recently bought a million 1942 calendars for a penny apiece. "What on earth are you going to do with them?" he was asked. "It's rather a long chance, I admit," he said, "but oh boy, if 1942 ever comes back, I'll make a fortune!" * * He: "We're coming to a tunnel. Aren't you afraid?" She: "Not if you take that cigar out of your mouth." * * "I'm -sorry to disappoint you, Charles, but I can't go out with you tomorrow. I became engaged to Dick last night." "Oh, well, how about next week?" * * "So you're named Tom. I know George means lover of horses, and Philip means beloved, and Don means chief-do you know what Tom means? "Business, baby, business." » * "You are very rich," he ventured. "Yes," she replied frankly, I am worth one million, two hundred and fifty thousand dollars." "And I am poor." "Yes." "Will you marry me?" "No." "I didn't think you would." "Then why did you ask me." "Oh, just to see how a man feels when he loses one million, two hun- dred and fifty thousand dollars." Student A: Where are you going in such a hurry? Student B: I just bought a new textbook and I'm trying to get to class before it goes out of date. It's not improper to kiss a girl's hand, but it's decidedly out of place. The drunken acrobat walked to the bar and flipped himself to see who would pay for the-drinks. * * A Suzie was just found to be illeg- ally wed. Her father didn't have a license for his shotgun. Missouri Showme Reports: On Police and Homecoming With Homecoming about a week off, we got to wondering what the Chief of Police might think of the year's biggest debauch. While we conjured up gay parties, rollicking crowds, and a great football game, we imagined him deeply engrossed in plans for maintaining Columbia's equili- brium. We visioned a hoosgow over- flowing with tipsy revelers and Judge Dinwiddie working overtime to rep- rimand all those Friends of Bacchus who violated the city's ordinances. All this, we thought, might involve headaches of magnificent proportions for the local men in blue. We thought we had a terrific yarn. So we put on our honest looking outfit, assumed a fittingly righteous face, and strolled down to the police station. We walked in, and interrupting a conversation among two policemen and a bystander, we asked if Chief Hagan was in. "Yep," was the answer. Still unaware that the station is a rather informal place, we asked if we might speak to him. A head nodded assent, and the conversation was resumed. We took the three or four steps to the Chief's private domain. Chief N. R. Hagan was a complete surprise to us. We had always pic- tured the Inspector Lestrade of our town as a heavy-set if not fat individ- ual, a habitual smoker of black cigars, pompous, and one having little pa- tience with young whipper-snappers like ourselves. He is none of these. Chief Hagan is a little man-in fact (Continued on next page) The Novus Shop "All right, all right. Pull over to the curb." Brown Derby Central Dairy we missed him in our first quick glance around his office. He was tucked away in a large black-walnut swivel chair, and the blues of his uniform blended with the tone of the office, effectively camouflaging him. He paused while cleaning his nails and invited us to sit down. The Chief is a genuinely friendly, 'folksy' person with no airs of grandeur. And he was very willing to answer any questions we had. Much to our disappointment, every- thing he had to tell us was strictly routine. They don't expect any larger crowd for K.U. than came for the S.M.U. game. Since that was handled smoothly, they don't forsee any trou- ble in that quarter. That is, unless it rains. Rain puts the two stadium parking lots out of use and does create somewhat of a problem, the Chief ad- mitted. And he seemed to figure that because we'd had good weather for our first games the law of averages might citch up with us and sprinkle us for Homecoming. If that happens, the Chief says the best thing to do is park your car wherever you can find space and walk. We told him that we'd been doing that for the last three years. With parking settled, we got to the principal question we had in mind when we came in. "Have there been any riots or unruly crowds that have given you trouble at the game or at parties afterward?" we asked. "No, never had any trouble like that." "Has K.U. ever come down en masse to paint the columns or the White Campus?" "No, they've never bothered us." It all boiled down to this. Colum- bia is no worse in Homecoming than on any other football day, and that is never too bad, according to the Chief. "I've been here 12 years," he told us, "and there's never been any- thing out of the ordinary." Of course, there may be a few more calls that day and some of the fraternity boys occasionally imbibe a little too freely. But if they do, the Chief lets them recover in the back room of the sta- tion and then sends them on their wobbly way. That just about covered the situa- tion. So we thanked the Chief and left. This being our first visit to the home of the law, we felt it wasn't quite what people say-but, then, ours was a friendly visit. R. R. S. KNIGHT'S DRUG SHOP Charlie's The coach called to Jones with a glint in his eye, For the plan he had was mighty sly. The team uas behind and if they lost, The coach's job it would surely cost. Coach Smith told Jones in his uyly way, That it was up to him to save the day. Jones warmed up as if in a trance; He was getting his one big chance. Thoughts of glory went thru his head, Shouts for Jones that cheerleaders led. The whistle that blew was Jones' cue, He'd do or die for 'Ole Mizzou.' He sprinted on the field all fired up, With water and towels and drinking cup. -Meiklejohn ** Girls who wear flannels the whole year through Itch to get married-but never do. * * Headline in the Student: Tower's Gothic Architecture Houses Large Electric Clock . . . hmmm. You don't say! * * "Wait a minute, darling, I heard something break." "Don't worry. It was just my promise to mother." "Oh look, George, there's Myra . . Hello, dear . . . My goodness, Tom Smith's with Bev rly . . . Oh, that new coat is da-arling, Mary . . Heavens, Jack is drunk already-I think he's horried . . . Yoo, hoo! Hello there . . . Tee, hee, how're you all? . . . Jeepers, there goes. Lafter Thoughts "Yes," said the steamboat captain, "I've been running these boats on this river so long I know where every sandbar is." Just then the boat hit a snag with such force that it shivered from stem to stern. - "There," said the captain, "there's one of them now!" * * From the Missourian: "Ten stations will dish out the data." (Column 4) "Nine stations will broadcast the game." (Column 8 -same paper, same day, same page.) "And to think I mortgaged the house to send my boy to college. All he does is go out with the girls, drink, and smoke." "Do you regret it, then?" "I certainly do. I should have gone myself!" * * From the Missourian: CHEVROLET 1936, top condi- tion, no knees. 1900 Paris Road. . .they havcn't got a leg to stand on. 31 "Don't touch my Gaw-damn coffee!" White House Life Savers Some people think our jokes are rough While others think they're grand, The former all have evil minds, The others must not understand! » * "Mr. Jones, this is Miss Smith." "How do you do, Miss Smith?" "Howah ya' all, Mistuh Jones?" 'Are you going to school, Miss Smith?" "Oh, mercy, yes! Ah go to a li'l ole school in Cha'lston, So'th Ca'lina." "How long have you been going there?" "Oh, why, silly, this is mah first yeah down theah." "And where did you go before that?" "Well, I graduated from my home town high school in Cleveland, Ohio." * * Men are as honest and truthful as women-that's why girls are so sus- picious of them. "This poor fellow," explained the doctor to the people touring through the asylum, "has a very sad history. See how he fonrles that large doll. He spends most ui his time like that. He was engaged, to a girl whom he loved deeply. She jilted him, however, and married another man, while this one lost his reason over the affair." They passed along the corridor to the next cell, which was barred and thickly padded. "And this," resumed the doctor, "is the other man." All extremely bright men aren't conceited. I'm not. Life Saver Joke Contest Win a carton of Life Savers! Sub- mit your favorite joke to Showme, 304 Read Hall, Columbia, Mo. This month's winner is: Essilee Playter 701 Maryland Columbia, Mo. Winning joke: First Old Maid (with newspaper in hand): It says here that a woman in Omaha has cremated her third hus- band. Second Old Maid: Isn't that al- ways the way? Some of us can't get one, and others have husbands to burn. Farmer (to hired hand who is throwing dirt into a large hole): Hey, Sam, where's that mule I told you to take out and have shod? Hired Hand (dropped shovel): Did you say "shod?" I thought you had a coldl * * The dude stood watching the card game in the Wild West. Suddenly he saw the dealer give himself four aces from the bottom of the deck. He sidled around .to one of the other players and whispered in his ear that the dealer was cheating. "Beat it, bud," drawled the player. "But he gave himself four aces!" "So what," the cowpoke snapped, "It's his deal, ain't it?" * * "How are you getting along with your girl?" "Not so bad. I'm getting some en- couragement now." "Really? Is she similing sweetly at you, or something?" "Not exactly, but last night she told me that she had said 'No!' for the last time." "Jack, I'm sorry I treated you the way I did. You'll forgive me for be- ing angry ith you all last week, won't you?" "Sure. That's all right. I saved $22 dollars while we weren't on speak- ing terms." ** "Don't you have an alarm clock?" "Yeah, but it went off while I was asleep." Eddie's CAMPUS VALET CLEANERS Frozen Gold Ice Cream PHONO-GRILL The Villa A weather man-A guy who can look in a blonde's eye and tell whether. * * He (at the movies): "Can you see all right?" She: "Yes." He: "Is there a draft on you?" She: "No." He: "Is your seat comfortable?" She: "Yes." He: "Change places with me, will you?" Dad to Son: "I never knew what it was to kiss a girl until I met your mother. Will you be able to tell your son the same?" Son: "Sure, but not with such a straight face." > * Rumor has it that a wolf who was too poor to buy etchings invited the sweet young thing up to see the hand- writing on the wall. "If those beautiful little birds up there could talk, what do you sup- pose they would say?" "Bombs away!" * * Mother: "Do you like your new governess, Willie?" She: "I played strip poker last night." Her: "High stakes?" She: "No. Just panty-ante." Fill 'er Up by Don Dunn No, not gasoline, stupid! I'm talk- ing about space. Science may have rules about filling space with matter, but these rules don't apply when a columnist can't think of enough to say to fill his allotted space in a paper or magazine. "Oh, well," he says, "one of the boys can fill out the column with a space- filler." Now, these space-fillers are those exciting little bits of information you so often see squeezed into newspapers or periodical pages. Having made an extensive study of these bits of typo- graphical art, I ask the following ques- tion: Why not just end the columns with either a blank space or several rows of x's in preference to the fillers? This radical view is caused by the reading of such a filler as, The only wild bears found In America are in North Carolina and east Tennesse. These ani- mals should not be confused with razor-backs. Now, isn't that ridiculous? Not only have I heard of people being killed by bears in every state of the union (and even by poor little bears in zoos), but what in hell is a razor-back that we shouldn't confuse wild bears with anyway? The above space-filler is a little better than most in that it attempts to tell you something. The kind I just can't stand go something like this: Sprinkle plain muffins, just be- fore they go into the oven, with a mixture of melted shortening, brown sugar, and cinnamon or nutmeg. Possibly the idea here isn't bad, al- though I don't think the combination of shortening, cinnamon, and sugar would taste particularly appetizing. What I object to is the language of the idea. It doesn't say, "Please sprinkle muffins," or, "Why not sprinkle muffins-?" No. It says, "Sprinkle plain muffins-!" I don't know who writes these things, but I just want to say that I'll sprinkle my muffins with anything I jolly well please-and you or nobody else is go- ing to order me around! See! And hereafter, why not use a little courtesy in your writing? Here's another little item about ani- (Continued on next page) ROBER0S & GREEN "Glad to see you again, er-ah-" ODUS POWELL STANDARD STATION ONE-STOP SERVICE HAY'S HARDWARE CO. mals. The one about the bears might be useful if you are ever attacked by a bear that you think is wild, but this kind is of very little practical value: Prairie dogs live in large col- onies and spend their extra time burrowing. All I have to say to this is who cares? And besides, just what does a prairie dog have to do that would keep him so busy he couldn't burrow once in a while? Everyone has to have his fun, but I think prairie dogs should spend more time at home with their wives and puppies. Here's another silly one: The average motorist today has a better grade of fuel for his car tn Lindberg had to fiy the At- Possibly this sort of thing is used as propaganda for Standard Oil or some such company, but it's just filled with fallacies. In the first place, Lindbergh went in an airplane and why should he worry about automobile fuel? This thing seems to be getting out of hand. Perhaps I'd better end it right here. Why should I care? If it's too short, we can always fill up the column with a space-filler of some kind. THE END "Let's pway tackle today." MISSOURI STORE COMPANY "What does taut mean?" "Tight." "Right. Were you taut very much at college?" * * Housemother: "Smith, I found a bottle of rye and a bottle of ginger ale in your desk . . . what do you make of it!" Greek: "Highballs." «** First ATO: Something must be done about these jay walking pedes- trians. Second ATO: Ah, just what I was driving at! It was a good many years ago that Deacon Jones took his wife to the races. Just as the horses were lining up at the barirer, Mrs. Jones grasped the Deacon nervously by the arm and in a voice which was filled with emotion, asked him for a safety pin, and at the same time grabbed frantically for something that seemed to be slipping at the knees. Just then someone near- by shouted: "They're off!" And Mrs. Jones fainted. * * Willie: "No, Mom. I hate her. I'd like to grab her and bite her neck like daddy does." * * A campus wolf wandered into a sorority tennis match and sat down. "Whose game?" ,he asked. A shy, young think looked up hopefully, "I am." HARWELL MANOR BENGAL SHOP Girl of the Month... MARILYN HILL Photograph by Gibbons Griffin at Julie's Senior in Arts and Science, majoring in Personnel Management . . . Vice- President, AWS . . . Judiciary Board chairman . . . Senior Sponsor of Tem- porary Dorm 6 . . . Arts and Science representative on S.G.A. Council . . . Mortarboard . . . Psi Chi, national psychology honorary . . . Chairman of 38 Campus Relations Committee . . . Tiger Claws . . .Delta Gamma . . . 21 . Moberly, Mo. Boy of the Month.... JOHN MARTIN MATHIESON Photograph by Gibbons Griffin at Julie's Senior in Mechanical Engineering. Pi Mu Epsilon, national mathematics honorary . . . Omicron Delta Kappa . . Q.E.B.H. . American Society of Mechanical Engineers . President of Engine Club . Editor of '47-'48 Sham- rock . . . President of University Men's Burrall Club. Phi Delta Theta. 22 . Mexico, Mo. 39 KAMPUSTOWNE GROCER Chesterfield Cigarettes Guide for Gals A few weeks ago, A.W.S. sponsored a little affair known as Freshman Orientation-for women. This is a very worthy project. It helps get peo- ple off to an intelligent start at M. U. It informs the gals about the campus and its activities. Showme would like to add a few rather important points to the Orien- tation of Mizzou's womanhood. Fresh- man girls should remember the follow- ing: (1) You are the Master Race. (2) Be sure and get male teachers. (3) Never get ready for a date 'til the sucker has arrived. (4) Don't kiss your date 'til he has spent all his tnoney. (5) Be sure, however, to kiss him then. He gets paid again next month, you know. The above advice may well be un- necessary. It is probably instinctive knowledge among the fairer sex. * * Student (at Wabash Depot): Where does that train go?" Clerk: That train goes to New York in ten minutes. Student: Oh, I didn't want to go that. fast. * * He swung wide the massive portal and strode briskly in. Instantly six uniformed men sprang to attention. He fiercely tore open his shirt collar and jerked off his coat. His glaring eyes became narrow slits as he turned and stood facing them. Not a thing stirred- in the tense silence. Each of their anxious faces showed expectancy and suspicion. He picked his man and advanced two paces. His look was keen and his voice was stern-"I want a shave and a haircut," he said. Chesterfield contest winners: William Peak Stanley F. Kaminsky Lois Via Allan Kindle Laurence Stern Richard T. Kingslan Jack McKinnel Charlene Grossman Sheldon J. Karlan Helen Hess Mamma: George, dear, come kiss your new governess. George: No; I don't dare to, I'm afraid. Daddy kissed her yesterday and she slapped his face. * "I hope you're not afraid of mi- crobes," apologized the pay-teller as he cashed the young instructor's check with soiled currency. "Don't worry," replied the young man, "a microbe couldn't live on my salary." "And you can't multiply 26 by 86, Charley? I'll bet Henry can do it in less than no time." "I shouldn't be surprised. They say fools multiply very rapidly, these days." "How did you lose your hair?" "Worry." "What did you worry about?" "About losing my hair." * "Was his bankruptcy due to a lack of brains?" "Yes, a lack and a lass." * "Is your dentist careful?" "I'll say he is; he filled my teeth with pain." * A prof wrote "Please wash" on the blackboard and the janitor took his bath before Saturday. 0 A KICK IN THIS ONE "Did his father come between you?" "No, merely behind me." THE CONLEY HOUSE ESSER DRUG STORE "Can I help you?" Tough guy: Okay, babe, are you going to give me a kiss? Tough gal: Make me! Tough guy: All I want is a kiss! From the Missourian: Summer Spreads Stephens Faculty . . but they'll work it off again this term. * * An MU student lost his life last summer in Venice. He left a bar in a drunken stupor and lay down in the gutter to sleep it off. * * From the Missourian: HOUSETRAILER - 1 foot. Sleeps two. Perfect for bache- lor. $395. Route 40 and West Blvd. . must be sold by now! * * The Columbia Fire Department had just sent an engine roaring past the Shack when an under-the-weather student stumbled through the gate and began to dash widly after the red wagon. He chased its screaming siren three blocks before dropping exhausted to the sidewalk. "All right for you," he sobbed. "You can just keep your damn peanuts!" 42 Lafter Thoughts "Confidentially, isn't Johnny rather spoiled?" "Naw, it's* just the after shave lotion he uses." * * Headline in the Student: All Students Are Housed in Dorms, Barracks, Homes . what about that 2-room cave I'm renting for $80? Judge: "Have you anything to of- fer the court before sentence is passed?" Defendant: "No, Your Honor, I gave my last dollar to my lawyer." * * From the Missourian: Army Will Pick Most Officers From R 0 T C peace at any price! "Captain,,is this a good ship?" "Why, madam, this is her maiden voyage." * Mary had a litlte lamb, Some salad and dessert, And then she gave the wrong address, The dirty little flirt. An intelligent girl is one who can refuse a kiss without being deprived of it. * "Is my face dirty or is it my imagination?" "Your face is clean; I don't know about your imagination." * While a fourth for bridge is im- portant, a fifth will usually contri- bute more joviality to the party. * "Bromo"-toast-er, "Bromo-to4st-e Here's to good friend-"tried and true," Who was always "true, true blue." Who saw me through both "thick and thin" And, likewise, through the "dens of sin." To one with whom I've "played and sung"- I shouldn't have killed him-he was "too young." * Joe: "A woman's greatest attrac- tion is her hair." Moe: "I say it's her eyer." Ike: "It is unquestionably her teeth." Mike: "What's the use of sitting here and lying to each other?" * Friends are people who dislike the same people. * Just because she has a head like a grape doesn't say she's one of the bunch. Nu-Joy Sandwich Shop MERKLE MOTOR CO. Savitar DAVIS CLEANERS Art's Tobacco Store Plaza Liquors "Have you ever been pinched for going to fast?" "No, but I've been slapped." * "That's the guy I'm laying for," muttered the hen as the farmer crossed the yard." * And then there was the dog that saw the sign "Wet Paint" on the bench-and so he did. * "I'm so mad I could put a banana 'n the refrigerator." Definition of pink elephant: A beast of bourbon. There was a young maid from Iran Who said, "Yes, if I possibly can, I'll go to college To get me some knowledge, But mostly, I'm after a man." * "Hey, you can't dance that way here." "This is interpretive dancing." "Then I'm interpreting it the wrong way." "Who gave the bride away?" "I could have, but I kept my mouth shut." Rowe's Crow's Nest Now it can be told. Many people have approached me asking why I had discontinued my column in the Missouri Student. The report in the Student that I had re- signed because of overwork was er- roneous. The reason was that world and campus events became too press- ing for me. It seemed as though cir- cumstances were crushing me like a vice. It all began with the picture called "The Night Has a Thousand Eyes." It was a story about a man who could forsee the future. When I left the theater I had the strangest feeling that I had been on that street before; that I had seen that same fellow dripping soup down the front of his shirt at Charley's before. As I walked home, it occurred to me that these weren't new scenes I was watching. And then I knew the truth. I could predict the future. The entire chain of events crystal- ized themselves that night. As I (lay, lain, lying, laid, lied-choose the cor- rect form and check page 100 for the right answer) down, I envisioned what would occur the next day. That was tomorrow, mind you. Was I going mad? I quivered. Through the haze of my white-veiled thoughts, I saw myself going to a European Govern- ment class, I saw myself going to sleep in that class, I saw myself sitting on the steps in front of Jesse Hall. I tossed and turned. I was in such a state that it took me three minutes to get to sleep. The next day it happened. Just as I had envisioned it the night before, I went to my European Government class, fell asleep there, and then went to sit on the steps in front of Jesse Hall. I didn't sit there long though. A group of birds passed over. I felt my last thin grasp with sanity slipping away. I had to disengage myself from campus life. I couldn't go to Gaebler's, I couldn't write columns about the ultra-smart con- finement cells at Stephens. I refused to be seen at Read Hall (maybe I was getting sane instead of insane). I even refused to carry a billboard for the Knight Owl campaign. How square can you get? Night upon night I would envision the morrow. I, imagine it, I could forsee the future. I visioned that the Barns were going to have an Ag- warming, what color beret Jesse Wrench would feature. Zounds, I even predicted Missouri winning the K-State game. Alas. I had lost my mind. I was so morose that the only time I would speak to my fellow students was dur- ing a quiz. Where could I find the answer to my problems? I turned to my books. I read everything ever written about abnormal psychology. Books like Basic Principles of Economics, Spell- bound, and Who Shot the Hell Out of My Horse? This last book is a grip- ping psychological drama of a cow- boy whose father was killed by the big-shot in Tombstone and he became a marshall, and he got the bad guy, and he cleaned up the town, and women and children lived without fear, and he opened the west, and he married the girl, and he patted his horse on the head, and he turned the horse out to pasture and he hung up his guns. What was to happen to me? If I could only predict a wrong thing in (Continued on next page) "I say it's a birthmark." 45 SUDDEN SERVICE CLEANERS GOLDEN CAMPUS the future, perhaps I could regain my faith in reality. But try as I would, I just couldn't do it. I couldn't guess wrong. I predicted a co-ed wearing one of those 12-mile-long skirts would smash her nose on Jesse steps trying to go up them two at a time. One did. I predicted the traffic director in front of Jesse Hall would eventual- ly blow the little ball out of the cen- ter-part of his Double-duty, Tweet- tweet, Jack Armstrong-never-tires- of-it-and-neither-will-you, A t o m i c Whistle. He did. Why, oh why was I able to predict so accurately? Why, oh why couldn't I be like Drew Pear- son? You may wonder what was hap- pening to my classwork while in the throes of this mental depression. Strange things were happening in this regard. I had no desire to study. I just wanted to drink beer, chase women, make love, listen to nasty jokes, cut classes, get eight-weeks off for Christmas, figure ways of cutting down the new French bathing suits, plan jail breaks for Stephens girls, and go to football games. Now do you believe I was going mad? Think of my dilemma! If I went any crazier the only place I could even hope to find a job would be with the Veterans' Administration. My friends tried to help me. One offered me a bottle of whisky, one offered me a reefer, one went so far as to offer me a whole jar of Vitamin B-1 Benzedrine tablets. But did these things help? Hell yes! I ate the whole jar of Benzedrine tablets, smoked a reefer and there I as at 40,000 feet without an aeroplane. At last the solution to this dratted mess came to me. It happened so quickly I didn't realize it. One night I was studying for a quiz. As I was studying a vision came to me. I envisioned that the instructor would only give the quiz over the material which he assigned up to that date. I gloated as I made my ponies. I knew he would only give the test over the assigned material. The next day I was ready for that quiz! Papers were being passed out, ponies were being jammed into sweater cuffs, dates were written on finger- nails, morse codes were being devised, hand signals and semaphone were be- ing co-ordinated through a central fellow sitting in the center of the class tapping out the answers. I took no part in that activity-for I knew. At last I received my quiz paper. I looked at question No. 1. That wasn't part of the assigned material. I looked at question No. 2. That cer- tainly hadn't been assigned. Three, four, seven, thirteen, twenty-three- skiddo. Huzzah! My prediction had been wrong. The professor, this little man standing before me with saliva run- ning down his chin, chirping with insane glee, had turned back the wheels of occult fate. He, and he alone, had balked my prediction. He had not given one single question on the assigned material. I dashed up to him, wrung his hand, wrung his neck, and sped toward Jesse Walk. I grabbed the first girl I saw, swung her around my head by her arm; I did eighteen somersalts in a row; I climed a tree and shook the leaves off on people's heads; I set fire to all the SGA clean-up signs; I sang "Old Missouri" into the mail box. Ah, but it was too late. Two cockroaches had already taken over my column in the Student. THE END As the boat was sinking, the captain lifted his voice to ask: "Does anyone here know how to pray?" One man spoke confidently in an- swer: "Yes, captain, I do." "Then," said the captain, "you pray. The rest of us will put on the life- belts. We're one short." JOE DIETZ GARAGE The New Dixie Missouri Showme Contributors' Page Kaywoodie Company "BUCK" HERR Photograph by lulle'* Studio Showme's new Assistant Business Manager is William "Buck" Herr, a native of Bloomington, Illinois. This is "Buck's" second year.on the staff, having served his apprenticeship as a circulation and promotion man. Herr is a junior in the School of Journalism and a member of Phi Kappa Psi. He can most often be found at the Central Dairy where he eats hot- fudge sundaes and admires the ever- changing scenery. TOMMY THOMPSON A transfer student from Harding College, Tommy Thompson is a new addition to the Showme art staff. He dropped in at 613 Maryland Avenue one afternoon last month to see Art Editor Flash Fairfield and Associate Gabe. They liked his work, with the result that two of Tommy's cartoons are in this issue. Thompson is a member of the Read Hall Publicity Committee and the Arkansas Club. (His home is in Searcy, Arkansas.) He has con- tributed some of his work to ;he Mis- souri Student. A junior in Arts and Science, and a pre-journalism student, Thompson is a welcome addition to the art staff. Showme's other over-worked artists are rubbing their brushes together with glee. This month, Showme says Thanks to Don Fawcett, Ray Rowland, Pete Mayer, and Meiklejohn for their con- tributions to the magazine. A lot of people contribute to Swami's success besides those who get the by-lines. We appreciate anything that makes the Editors' jobs easier-whether it be a funny headline from the Missourian and/or Student, or a promotional dis- play in the Library showcases. It all helps. JEAN SUFFILL In charge of Showme advertising this year is Jean Suffill, a senior in the School of Journalism and the College of Arts and Science. Jean will be graduated in February with an A.B. and a B.J. Once in a while, Jean's talents wander over into the editorial side of the magazine. Last month one of her cartoons was published, and last year a short story and several poems. She is a member of Gamma Alpha Chi, advertising sorority; Delta Tau Kappa, English honorary; and Kappa Alpha Mu, photography fraternity. Photograph by Julie's Studio The Stable Chesterfield Cigarettes