Missouri Showme November, 1949 Missouri Showme November, 1949 2008 1949/11 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 show194911

Missouri Showme November, 1949; by Students of the University of Missouri Columbia, MO 1949

All blank pages have been eliminated.
Missouri Showme November 1949 25 cents Stephens Issue Camel Cigarettes Pucketts Plaza Letters to Showme Dear Editor: Correcting some trivial inaccuracies in an obscure item by "G.T.S." in your last issue: I never wear a mustache or a bow-tie, or (in spite of misinformed rumor) a party label, and the correct spelling of the name Karsch. You had it Karsh, which would be Egyptian. Although I admire the country and its people, I am not from Egypt. Nile appreciate your putting the "c" in after this. Robert F. Karsch Instructor in Political Science University of Missouri Someone told us you looked like Dewey, but they obviously were mis- taken. Suez if you wish, but you'll have to see our lawyer. Ed. Dear Editor: Twenty-three girls in our house, as well as myself, enjoy Showme im- mensely. I think the September is- sue far surpasses any issue I've read in the year-and-a-half I was a student in Columbia. I'll even go so far as to say it's better than any college humor maga- zine I've seen. Enclosed is a joke for the Life Saver joke Contest. Ruth Stewart 204 Marshall St. Syracuse, N. Y. Flattery will get you nowhere; but you won the contest. Ed. Dear Editor: As an ex-Stephens girl who laughed at Showme for two years, I would like to subscribe to the magazine. Would like to show U.C.L.A. what Missouri humor is like. Martha Bunch 927 Hilgard Los Angeles 24, Calif. The Blue Shop The Stable editor's ego WE HAVE lots of reasons for dedicating a whole issue to the gals at the 'love college'-the biggest fac- tor being the University wouldn't let us put out a November 'Sex Issue.' So we turned to the next best thing. There has long existed a rivalry between Missouri co-eds and the Suzies for the affections of the male gender at the University. The co- eds always had the edge because they can ride in cars, get drunk, and make love until 12:30 a.m.-with- out penalty. Looking at the matter objectively, this seems rather unfair to us. As Swami often said, "The incongruity of it all." Thus, in our own small way, we hope this Showme will bring a little sunshine, through the bars, into the Suzies' hearts . . . bless their little greenbacks. If we do no more than awaken some male freshman to the fact that Stephens College exists, we will have fulfilled our purpose. . . . And although this issue may come as a surprise to many people- especially the Stephens administration -we want to make it clear it's all in good fun. Heh, heh. The other day we received an im- portant-looking envelope from the National Scholastic Press Assn. They were notifying us we had received an "All-American" rating-the very pinnacle in magazine standings. Swami promptly went out and lost a week- end in celebration. We'd like to urge subscribers whose water-wings weren't functioning the rainy day we went on sale last month to pick up their magazines early. If you fail to get your Showme the morning it's on sale, drop up to 304 Read Hall. We'll hold back maga- zines for two days following our sales date. Next month we switch from beer and pretzels to Tom and Jerries . . . with the 'Christmas Issue." Showmeingly yours, Associate Editors Jerry Smith Miscellaneous Editor Chris Chilcutt Art editor Circulation-Managers Homer Ball Feature editor C.J. Cherry Jack Eyler K. K. Nevar Advertising Staff Feature Editor Stephens Issue Missouri Showme YOUR CAMPUS HUMOR MAGAZINE Contents FICTION The Enlightenment of Dr. Warsh A Date for Looie Potts The Lid Was Up FEATURES Showme 'Dairies It' DEPARTMENTS Letters Editor's Ego Around the Columns Candidly Mizzou Showme Reports Donn's Corner Lafter Thoughts Boy and Girl of the Month Jerrymandering Contributors' Page COVER BY PAT BAUMAN Volume 27 November, 1949 Number 3 SHOWME is published nine times, September through May, during the college year by the students of the University of Missouri. Office: 304 Read Hall, Columbia, Mo. All copy- rights reserved. Unsolicited manuscripts may be sent by mail or delivered to the office. Advertising rates furnished on request. National Advertising Representative: W. B. Bradbury Co., 122 East 42nd St., New York, N. Y. Printer: Modern Litho-Print Co., Jefferson City, Mo. Price: 25c a copy, $2.75 by mail. Office Hours: 2 to 4 p.m., Monday MEMBER through Friday, 304 Read Hall. 5 I doubt that there will ever be A light as bright as that I see Outside the doors of Stephens' halls, When the night's eleventh hour falls. 6 Around the Columns Overheard Two co-eds on Red Campus: "This class could be interesting." "Not with the boys we have sitting next to us." November The pumpkin pie month . . . with turkey and dressing . . . and a week's vacation . . . how many days 'til Christmas? . . and another vacation. . Winter is finally here . . . maybe . . . or is the earth really get- ting warmer? . . snow, sleet or rain . . . take your pick . . . November . . . Armistice day . . . which war was that? . . yeah, the checks finally got here . . . a big one, too . . . almost enough to pay the interest . . . come on insurance refund! . . foot- ball season is almost over . . . shall we talk about a bowl game? . . or shall we talk about next year? . . naw, let's talk about pumpkin pie . . . and a week's vacation . . .November . . . Mid-semester grades . . . sure, kid, they send them home . . . but, it isn't the grade that counts after all . . . tch, tch . . . shorter days and shorter week ends . . . grind, grind, grind . . . books buried under papers topped by blood-shot eyes . . . tote that law of diminishing heart burns . . lift that mathematical formula . . . get a little tired and you smoke another cigarette . . . November . . . whew! Suzies Since this issue is devoted to the Suzies and their generous interest in our magazine, perhaps we should de- vote a word or two to them. Where the name 'Suzie' came from we don't know and don't care-we like it. Where the Suzies come from is another thing. They come from everywhere. They're supposed to be rich and wild. Some of them un- doubtedly are-and we can provide the perfect dates for them. A lot of them are wonderful, pleasant, in- telligent girls with good looks and good taste-we're glad we had the opportunity of knowing them. They're hard as hell to contact by phone, but letters are accepted and answered in many cases. They can't stay out very late-but rules were invented to make people mad. They have a lot of nice dances where a person can meet a lot of nice people. They go to a school with fences around it because their parents sent them there-not because they like fences. We poke a lot of fun at the Suzies, and, to the best of our ability, we do it in a good natured way with no ill feelings on our part. The Suzies seem to realize this. The faculty most emphatically bans Showme from the campus. We'll continue poking fun at the Suzies, and the more emphatically we're banned, the stronger the kidding will be. But we just want you to know, Suzies, we love you all. Benedict Tucker-Maybe? If we had a society page in Show- me, we would devote a three inch headline to the fact that Mr. Co- lumbia Missourian Sharp's number one lieutenant, Miss Tucker, is lately de- voting considerable time to one Co- lumbia Tribune employee. Hummmm. But we don't have a society page, so we'll just forget it. Aw, Shaw When we read about Artie Shaw's big stinkeroo in Carnegie Hall, we were wondering if he would pull the same thing here in the Carnegie Hall of M.U., Rothwell Gym. He did. At Carnegie Artie lured the crowds with his popular recordings. After the doors were locked, Artie fed the disciples some of his long hair inter- pretations. Commented one disgusted hep-cat, "Artie, you stink." Those of you who were present at the Tiger Night dance probably noticed, if you could find room enough to notice, that Artie tried the same thing. It was even more noticeable because of the sudden dis- persion of the crowd. People were flocking in every direction-away from the band stand. Artie gave up after one piece. Nobody told him that he stunk, as far as we know; but we understand he was somewhat put out because that partic- ular time was chosen by the crowd as an added intermission. Perhaps some day orchestra leaders will learn that people go to dances because they like to dance. And, perhaps, someday, sponsors of dances will learn that people go to dances to dance-and it's physically impossible to put over two thousand people on a floor made for one thou- sand. 7 Rah, Rah We overheard this while eating lunch one day. Two football play- ers were sitting nearby. They were discussing a coming game and for one reason or other one of them needed several tickets for the game. Said the other, "Well, get 'em from one of the guys and not one of these (censored) students," or words to that effect. Undoubtedly 'the guys' referred to the football team-apart from 'the (censored) students'. The censored word is firmly etched in our minds. In fact it's so well preserved that we're a little doubious as to which team we'll be rooting for in the next game. Rah, rah. But then, there are always those 'athletes' who look good in a letter sweater and talk a good game. They come in handy for balancing the bench, and earn their letter in those 63 to 6 games. Rah, rah. Historical Hysteria It isn't too unusual to see someone chuckling gleefully while reading a book, but when the book happens to be a history, it calls for an investiga- tion. We discovered such a book, Bill Nye's History of The United States by name (Lippincott-1894), with illustrations by F. Opper. It's doubtful that anyone who has been subjected to the rigors and bore- dom of the normal history (and who hasn't) would fail to find this book full of chuckles and a few belly laughs. He beigns with Columbus: "Isabella brought him a large bunch of flowers . . . and Ferdinand gave him a yachting cap and spicy French novel to read on the road". To the exploration period: "The Spanish discovered the water mostly, and England, the ice belong- ing to North America." Colonization: "The Mayflower began to bring over vast quantities of antique furni- ture, mostly hall clocks for future sale." George Washington: "Washington was popular for three reasons: . . . he never shook the con- fidence of his friends . . . he had a strong will . . . he died before we had a chance to get tired of him." Bunker Hill: " . . a statistician made the esti- mate that nine per-cent of British troops were shot while ascertaining if their caps were on straight." The Civil War: "General Fremont took command (in Missouri) . . . but he was in a short time replaced . . . because his war policy was offensive to the enemy." End of the Civil War: "Still flushed with its success in humorous legislation, Congress . . . passed the fifteenth amendment, giv- ing to the colored men the right to vote. It then became part of the Constitution and people who have seen it there speak very highly of it." And finally, Liberty: "We want the whole broad world to remember that when it gets tired of oppression it can come here to America and oppress us." Although Mr. Nye sticks to facts (generally) he sustains this banter- ing tone throughout the entire 329 pages. After reading the book in one afternoon, we decided that the entire history of mankind could be taught in two weeks with similar text books. But then, that's the easy way. Joe Stalin's Joke Book As much as we may feel a strong animosity toward our Communistic opponents behind the curtain, we'll have to admit that they are producing more laughs for the world than any other two nations put together. To misquote Dale Carnegi--their ridicul- ousness is exceeded only by their ridiculousness. The latest tickler is their announce- ment that the English fleet whipped the Spanish armada because the British boats were made of Russian wood. Another that we recall is the one about the Capitalist and the banana peel-which fell flat in Rus- sia because it didn't explain the banana. Even our true-blue American Com- munists are getting into the act by claiming that Lincoln was backed by Communists. This all leads to the speculation that when 'Oncle Joe' turns the reigns over to Molotov (or some other sundry character) he can make himself a few bucks on the side by writing a joke book that could put Joe Miller to shame. Anyway, we'll buy one. Nothing Day There seems to be a violent race between John L. Lewis and the ad- vertising world to see who can pro- duce the largest number of 'special days'. We'll have to admit that Mr. Lewis has taken the lead with his magnificent 'no hour' week; but the advertising world is trying hard to overtake him. The latest in this 'battle of days' is the 'Sweetest Day', October 15th. Where it came from will forever re- evident in advertisements. On this main a mystery, but it was extremely day one is supposed to do something thoughtful for someone who has done something nice for one. This is a grand idea-we strongly. approve; but it does seem rather ridiculous that a day must be set aside for this purpose. It seems that soon we will be forced to declare a 'nothing day' in which a person is not required to remember someone, do something or purchase gifts. No doubt the advertising world will think of it. Sissy Sport The Columbia Missourian, which seems to be trying to do for Co- lumbia what the St. Louis Post-Dis- patch did for Illinois, is going hog- wild in their editorials. For the benefit of the entire world of base- ball fans we would like to take ex- ception to the one titled, 'Baseball: The Great American Bore'. As if this wasn't bad enough, they tried to prove it. According to the publication, which seems to think all games are pitcher's duels, the ball and bat sport is, "A tedious, elephantine bore fostered upon the public as our na- tional sport." They continue by intimating that the hundreds of thou- sand of fans who attend games every day of the playing season are help- less idiots deceived by a national hoax. For real entertainment they sug- gest football with its savage bodily contact and wrecked frames. For speed and interest they cite basketball with its sharp eloows, incessant whistle blowing and ten penalties for every basket scored. We would like to suggest hockey -occasionally you see a cracked skull or lacerated face. That's real sport. According to Mr. Louis Plost of the National Labor Relations Board, swearing is a lost, though noble, art. Mr. Plost claims that swearing has become formalized and people merely repeat what they heard someone else say. The reason for this regrettable oc- curance, according to Mr. Plost, is the advent of the gasoline engine, replacing mules, the number one pro- voker of classical cussing. Well, perhaps we live in the wrong part of the country, but we're in- clined to believe that Mr. Plost has never owned a somewhat ancient junk-surrounded gasoline motor that decided to commit suicide at 2 a.m. of a particularly frigid day when he was in a hell of a hurry. Mules have hearts. Burp Dr. Phillip P. Gray of The Master Brewers' Assn. of America says beer gushes over when opened because: "Colloidal particles acting as nuclei are responsible for the liberation of carbon dioxide gas from the unstable, supersaturated solution of carbon dio- xide existing when the container is opened." And we always tried to keep from agitating the damn stuff. Woops Last month we made some rather nasty remarks concerning the Writer's Guide. This disastrous mistake was not realized until the issue was printed. The remarks, it seems, should have been directed at the Writer's Markets. Sorry, please. --G. T. S. 9 candidly mizzou SINCLAIR ROGERS ICE CREAM SUNDAES are not the only attraction that Central Dairy holds for these hopeful men--for with every dish of ice cream they get of ogle as many women as their eyes can hold. The men who just stand around the outside and ogle are just con sidered lowdown "free-loafers" by the Dairy. Not even cold weather can force them inside. 10 SINCLAIR ROGERS SUDDEN SLAVERY for an hour returned to the rebel land of Little Dixie when professors of the University were knocked down, to the highest bidder at the annual faculty auction. The money bid on the venerable grey beards was turned over to to the local Community Chest Drive. The high biddes were given ownership of the pros for one hour . . . and coud use them in any wa they wished. SINCLAIR ROGERS GURGLE, GURGLE was all the opponents of Zeta Tau Alpha could say when the Zeta swimming team swamped all corners in the recent girls intra-mural swimming meet. Their victory was so complete that by the end of the meet they had almost twice as many points as the second place team. An added feature of this year's meet was that there was water in the pool. 11 GLEN BERG SINCLAIR ROGERS MUCH COIN FLIPPING by super-duper secret judges preceded the crowning of Her Highness of Homecoming, Miss Sally Robin- son, amid pomp and glory in Brewer Field House. Among other things, one of the dominions of her realm was the fabulous parade of floats that was put on by the organized houses. According to the floats, Nebraska had no chance at all. SINCLAIR ROGERS TO THE FAITHFUL go the rewards, and since both Kappa Kappa Gamma and Alpha Gamma Delta were faithful to SHOWME, they get their rewards. Both houses subscribed one hundred per cent, and both houses were awarded a SHOWME trophy. Now and then, if things go well, the girls may even get their magazines. 12 photo of the month SINCLAIR ROGERS HOMECOMING for some Alumns was a time for nostalgie, and for others it was a time for real he-man parties The local hotels, and various other places rocked on their foundations when the old timers tried to show the youngsters what two-fisted drinking really was. The favorite song of the night seemed to be "Roll Me Over . . in the Clover 13 THE ENLIGHTENMENT OF DR. WARSH Jerry Smith Dr. Warsh was just an idealistic, inconspicuous professor-at least that's what he thought until he fell on his head. DR. WARSH should never have accepted a teaching position in a girl's school. In the first place, Dr. Warsh was very young and very handsome. In the second place, he was passionately afraid of women in general and young women in partic- ular. But it was a wealthy school, and the pay was excellent-a lure that had intrigued Dr. Warsh no little. The trouble had started almost at once In his first class a girl had executed a perfectly fraudulent swoon immediately after Dr. Warsh had uttered two lines of Marlowe. Noth- ing quite so spectacular had since oc- cured, but there had been little in- cidents which had done nothing to lessen Dr. Warsh's fear of the femin- ine creature. The climax, or climax apparent, had come the day before' during one of those 'teacher-student' meetings when a particularly overwhelming girl had pursued Warsh, who was traveling backwards, through the en- tire crowd and down a long corridor. The net result was that Warsh tumbled rather ungracefully down a flight of steps and retired to his room with a bump that would have fasci- nated a phrenology expert. Thus, Warsh entered the classroom this day with a throbbing, irritable head. The first girl that Warsh looked at said, "I've waited so long for your arrival, my darling." The girl next to her said, "If we were alone, we could. . ." Dr. Warsh stepped backwards in horror. This was impossible. The girls would never go this far. He glanced at a girl in the back of the room. "I know I'm not beautiful, my sweet," she said. "But I do have nice legs." She began displaying them. Warsh recoiled as though he had been struck in the face. His mouth fell open leaving his chin hanging loosely in space. He blushed vio- lently. He looked at another girl. "Come live with me, and be my love; and we will all the pleasures prove," she recited. Warsh could stand it no longer; he dismissed the class. One girl paused before him and said sweetly," Thank you, Dr. Warsh." Quickly she added, "You gorgeous hunk of sex!" Warsh came as near to having a fit as he ever had. The girl fled. Warsh went to the nearest bar and downed three beers in rapid succes- sion. This was unusual for the nor- mally temperant Warsh, but he felt that these were unusual circum- stances. Walking rather laboriously to his office, he decided that his career as a teacher had ended. It was appar- ent that the girls no longer had a bit of respect for him, or he was losing his mind. In either case he was through as a teacher. He decided that he would go to some distant place and write a book -long his secret desire. He had al- ways thought of writing a book of rowdy adventure and tingling pas- sion-the dream life of every man who has never experienced such things. Now, it seemed, the time had arrived. A girl was waiting in his office. Her name was Phoebe, and she was one of his more intelligent students -one who had never shown the slightest interest in him. "Hello, Phoebe," he said rather sadly. "Good morning, Dr. Warsh." Her smile was bright. "What can I do for you?" "Oh, I just thought I'd drop in and see how your head feels," she said. Warsh started to answer, then sat down heavily on the floor as she added, "That heavenly head that I would like to smother with my pas- sionate lips." Warsh moaned and shut his eyes. "Why, Dr. Warsh, whatever is the matter?" This came in a friendly, sympathetic voice. In a different voice she said, "My darling, My Adonis." "Water," Warsh moaned, holding his head in his hands. Phoebe ran from the room, returning just as Warsh was getting to his feet. She brought a small glass of water, most of which she managed to spill on his suit. "I'm terribly sorry," she said brushing his coat. "Ooooh," she said in that different voice. The hand was too busy. ILLUSTRATED BY TOM WARE "Perhaps I'd better lie down," Warsh managed weakly. "Darling," Phoebe said. Warsh changed his mind. It wasn't so much because of what. she had said; Warsh discovered that her lips had not moved. He fell to the couch and stared stupidly at her. "I wonder if anyone will be com- ing into the office soon," she said. No lip movement. "Perhaps he'll faint." . Again no lip movement. Warsh hurriedly reviewed the scene in the classroom. He was almost positive that the lips of the speakers had not moved. "I'll loosen your shirt," Phoebe said out loud. Warsh jerked quickly away from her and hurled himself from the office. By the next day Warsh had con- firmed his suspicions. It was quite evidence that the fall down the stairs, and the subsequent blow on the head had given him unusual powers. He could read anyone's mind merely by looking at the person. He also dis- covered that all the women at the school, teacher or student, were quite taken with him. This created quite a conflict within Warsh who had never quite understood what one was sup- posed to do with admiring women. He received quite a few suggestions from the thoughts of some of these women, but they only served the pur- pose of reddening Warsh's face. Phoebe proved to be the most fascinating of them all. Outwardly she had not the slightest interest in him; but inwardly her thoughts were always the strongest. A conflict was hacking at Warsh's Id. One day he called Phoebe to his office. He found himself admiring the swing of her skirt as she entered his office, and the cut of her blouse as she leaned over the desk. "Phoebe," he said, "I've decided to leave the school." "Oh," she replied. "You've de- cided to get married?" "Well . . " "Ask me, darling," she thought in his ears. Warsh was becoming used to this. "I don't think that's for me," he finished. "If there's anything I despise," she thought, "It's that damn Platonic love." Warsh could hardly repress a blush. He looked at her carefully, wishing he could see her legs. Everything else (continuted on page l9) "Look at people stare! They think you're a goddess." A Date for Looie Potts The adventures of Looie Potts continue with a thrill- ing episode from inside the 'love college' LOOIE POTTS looked carefully at the name on the dirty brick build- ing. It said, "Stephens College For Young Women." Looie sniffed. "All ya gotta do," said Looie's friend, "Is walk in an' tell 'em ya want a date." "Yeah," Looie snorted. "I can imagine." "Naw, I'm givin' ya the straight dope, Looie. The place is lousy wit' women. I'm swearin' on my Kipsa Delphic Plaster honor. As a true son of old Misery U., I'm. . " "Aw, shut up, Ain't no harm in tryin', I guess." Looie straightened his tie. "I'll be out in a few minutes." Looie walked up the steps and paused before the door. There was no sound from inside. Slowly he pulled the door open and peered in- side. He saw a nose; it was quiver- ing. Behind it was an eye; it was twitching. Looie cleared his throat. "Uh, is this Stephens College," he squeeked. "We don't want any humor maga- zines," a voice said. "You don't understand. I want a date." "A date?" "Yes." Looie never remembered what hap- pened next, because everything sud- denly went blank. When he came to, he was seated in a chair. A bright light was shining in his face. Above the light was a nose; it was quivering. "Name?" said a voice. "Looie Potts." "Occupation?" "Student." "We don't want any humor maga- zines." "No. I just want a date." A piercing cackle shook the room. The nose moved toward Looie a little. Behind it was an eye; it was twitching. "Do you have a car?" The voice sounded hopeful. "No." "Damn. Don't you know we have a rule against our girls riding in cars?" "But, I don't have a car." "Cooperation," the voice snorted. Nothing but cooperation. We havn't expelled a girl for two weeks." The nose disappeared. The room was silent for a few minutes. Looie decided to walk around the room a little. He couldn't move; a battleship's anchor chain was fixed to his left leg. Looie be- gan yanking on it. A nose appeared above the light; it was quivering. "I thought you wanted a date," a voice said. "I changed my mind," Looie said hopefully. A shrieking laugh came from be- hind the nose. "What school do you attend?" said the voice. "Misery U." "We don't want any humor maga- zines." "I'm not selling humor magazines," Looie shouted. "I hate humor maga- zines." "I suppose you hate beer, too," the voice ejected. "No. I love beer." "No, no, Miss Crabtree. I'm just going to wash my hair." "Aha, I thought so. Our girls aren't allowed to drink beer. No date for you." "Fine, wonderful," Looie sang. "I don't want a date." A clawlike hand replaced the nose above the light. In it was a piece of paper. "Sign here," the voice said. "What for?" Looie asked suspici- ously. "This is a contract for a date every night for the next seven years." "But I don't want a date every night for the . ." "This also guarantees you first priority with the Justice of the Peace. He's here every Thursday from six to eleven." "But I don't . . ." "Do you like money?" the voice said. "Money?" Looie sat forward. "I love money." "Ooooh, wonderful," the voice screamed delightedly. "We'll give you a preview of our richest girl." At the end of the room a long piece of drain pipe appeared. There was a girl attached to it. Looie sud- denly realized that it wasn't a drain pipe; it was a leg. The joint was a knee and it was knocking against its mate. "I can't see her face," Looie pro- tested. "We don't talk about that around here," the voice sniffed. "I don't care for her," Looie said decisively. "We have several nice, frustrated neurotics." "No. I don't think so." "I suppose you'd prefer a curvaci- ous, five foot two, blue eyed blonde with a cooperative attitude?" "Yeah," Looie panted. "Yeah, that would be fine." "What the hell's the matter with our girls," the voice shrieked. "I don't know," Looie said weakly. "I've never seen any of them." (continued next page) DON L. SMALL'S General Electric Appliance Store 1950 Savitar Neukomm's "You'll have to sign the contract first." Looie sank weakly into the chair. "Could I have a cigarette, please?" he asked. "You smoke cigarettes?" The voice was horrified. "Yes." "Our girls aren't allowed to smoke cigarettes. No date for you." "Fine, wonderful," Looie shouted elatedly. "I'll just go home." "We have one girl that smokes cigars." "I don't care for cigars. I can't stand them." "She has a very pretty tooth." The nose moved toward Looie; it was quivering. Behind it was an eye; it was twitching. "I'd just rather go home," Looie sobbed. "Where do you live?" "At Misery U." "We don't want any humor maga- zines." "But I'm not selling . ." "Just sign on the dotted line." The nose quivered violently. A piercing shriek filled the room. In the room directly above, an emaciated girl with bloodshot eyes faced a distinguished looking man with foam on his upper lip. "Ain't you got me that date yet?" she snorted tossing a large packet of green bills into the wastebasket. "MacBethia is working on him," he replied, belching violently. "By the way." He leaned forward. "When you get him alone . " "Yes?" "Sec if you can get one of those humor magazines." The man crackled gleefully and returned to his job of signing diplomas and wedding licenses. The girl sat silently cutting paper dolls out of large denomination green bills. -JIM SEER. H.R. Mueller Florist Greenspon's DR. WARSH. (continued from page 15 ) was nice, but you could never tell what those dresses were hiding. "I've thought of going away to write a book." "And you need a secretary," her thoughts screamed. "And I need a secretary," he said lamely. She looked at him suspici- ously. "Come live with me, and be my love; and we will all the pleasures prove," her thoughts said. "Marlowe," Warsh said automatic- ally. "I beg your pardon," Phoebe said aloud. She took a sudden step back- ward. Warsh had risen, a strange light in his eyes. Phoebe began to move rapidly backward. "And I will make thee a bed of roses, and a thousand fragrant posies," Warsh was saying. "Please, Dr. Warsh," Phoebe said. Her thoughts were different. They were warm in Warsh's brain; they turned his sense to putty. "If these delights thy mind may move, then live with me and be my love," Warsh concluded, grabbing Phoebe just in time to tumble down the same flight of stairs that Warsh had had previous experience with. The shock brought him to his senses. "Phoebe, I'm so sorry. I. " "Oh, Dr. Warsh," she giggled. Warsh peered closely at her. He heard nothing; he no longer could hear those warm thoughts. The fall had removed his power. "Of course, my darling," Phoebe said sweetly. Warsh hadn't said a word. He stared at her legs, which he could see very well now. "Oooh, sweetheart," she said. "Of course." Warsh hadn't spoken. He began to listen to his thoughts. Sud- denly he felt very weak. "Tonight, darling," she said to the mute Warsh. "Oh, yes." Phoebe had fallen on her head too. That night Warsh left school to write his book-with Phoebe. THE END Garland's Lamb's Jewelry TARWARTER'S HOME & AUTO STORE GREYHOUND COFFEE SHOP Swami's Side-Slappers A nice girl shouldn't hold a young man's hand. A nice girl has to. If she looks young, she is camou- flaged. If she looks old, she is young but dissipated. If she looks innocent, she is fooling you. If she looks shocked, she is acting. If she looks languishing, she is hun- gry. If she looks sad, she is angling. If she looks back, FOLLOW HER. "What shall I do," wailed the sweet young thing. "I'm engaged to a man who cannot bear children." "Well," remarked a kindly old lady," you mustn't expect too much of a husband." A broker sought admission to the pearly gates. "Who are you?" said St. Peter. "I am a Wall Street broker." "What do you want?" "I want to get in." "What have you done that entitles you to admission?" "Well, I saw a decrepit woman on Broadway the other day, and gave her two cents." "Gabriel, is that on the records?" "Yes, St. Peter." "What else have you done?" "Well, I crossed the Brooklyn Bridge the oher night and met a newsboy half frozen to death and gave him a penny." "Gabriel, is that on the records?" "Yes, St. Peter." "What else have you done?" "That's all I can think of." "What do you think we ought to do with this guy, Gabriel?" "Give him back his three cents and tell him to go to hell." Once there was a traveling sales- man. He was new to the job-but he had heard a lot of jokes about farmers' daughters. So when it got late, instead of stopping in town, he went to the nearest farmhouse. The people were very hospitable; they invited him to spend the night. They had a daughter! And as usual there were only two bedrooms, one for the old couple; and the salesman was told to sleep in the daughter's room. About nine o'clock they all went to bed for a good night's rest. The next morning the farmer got up, his wife got up, the salesman got up, and the daughter got home from col- lege. It was the first day of school and the Smith triplets were just starting in the first grade; two boys and a girl, and cute as a bug's ear. Teacher: "My, my, what darling little children, triplets aren't you?" First Little Boy: "Yes ma'am." ,Teacher: "And what are your names?" First Little Boy: "My name is Peter, but I ain't no saint." Second Little Boy: "My name is John, but I ain't no apostle." Little Girl: "My name is Mary and is my face red." ". . And get that phone before the first ring!" Eat Shop BUCHROEDER'S The Brown Derby Fredendall's ERNIE'S the CAMPUS CLUB Swami's Side-Slappers A nurse in a mental hospital no- ticed a patient with his ear close to the wall, listening intently. The patient held up a finger as a warning to be quiet. Then he beckoned the nurse over and said, "Listen here." The nurse listened for some time and then said, "I can't hear anything." "No," said the patient, "and it's been like that all day." Frosh-I woke up last night with the feeling that my watch was gone, so I go up and looked for it. Soph-Well, was it gone? Frosh-No, but it was going. Two little negro girls were talk- ing and one kept saying, "I don't know whether Ah is five or whether Ah is six." The other replied, "You sho' is dumb not to know dat." "Well," the first said, "Ah do know Ah is a virgin." "Gal," was the immediate and dis- gusted reply, "you is five." * * * We've just heard about the two maggots who were necking in dead Ernest. A stethoscope is a spyglass for looking into people's chests with your ears. FREE I A box of LIFE SAVERS for the best wisecrack! LIFE SAVER JOKE CONTEST Submit your favorite joke and win a carton of assorted Life Savers. Entries should be ad- dressed to Showme. JOKE CONTEST WINNER Ruth Stewart 204 Marshall St. Syracuse, N. Y. WINNING JOKE A Sunday school teacher lost his bicycle and was under the impression one of his pupils stole it. At the suggestion of his lawyer, he decided to get the children together and repeat to them the Ten Comandments- intending to watch for the guilt- iest face when he got to "Thou shalt not steal." He did this, but when he got to "Thou shalt not commit adul- tory," he remembered where he left his bicycle. Life Savers TWA "Death Before Dishonor" Stephens Dairies-it Edgar's Maytag BENGAL SHOP Stag Beer Swami's Side-Slappers "Is my face dirty or is it my imagination?" "Your face is clean; I don't know about your imagination." Gypsy Rose dressed very thin Gypsy Rose sat on a pin Gypsy Rose Sonny: "Pop, what's an optimist?" Pop: "An optimist is a man who thinks his wife has quit smoking cigarettes when .he finds cigar stubs in the house. A large negress recently walked into the office of the president of a large bank. "Mr. President," she said, "I have $15 in gold, and I want to deposit it in your bank." "Fifteen dollars in gold! Why, mammy, that's hoarding," said the president. "No, suh," she replied, "only for the first ten. I had to wash and scrub for the other five." Deacon: Where are the bride and groom? They disappeared almost as soon as I married them. Bridesmaid: They're upstairs getting their things together. Deacon: What! So soon? An irate old gentleman rushed into a pharmacy, bottle in hand. He was bald, and two large bumps stood on his head, one on either side. "Look what this damn hair tonic did to my head," he shouted. The experienced clerk took the bottle in his hand and looking at the label, blushed and said, "My goodness, I made a mistake and gave you a bust developer." "Gee, Mabel, from what I've seen so far, you're my ideal." WASHINGTON COLUMNS "And now for two hours of recorded music . . ." filched "But isn't there enough room in the world for people with long pants AND people with short pants?" ERNIE'S STEAK HOUSE GARVERS Missouri Showme reports: On Stephens Stuff OUR ORIGINAL plan for this report was to interview Dean Prunty of the Stephens faculty. Everyone has heard about this lion. He's the man one sees when one has been blacklisted, heaven forbid. Anyhow, we needed a stenographer, so taking the prettiest of a batch of sorority pledges who came over to our office to offer their services, we adjusted our shoulder holster and wended our way to Stephens' campus, dragging our new secretary behind us. (Talk about taking coals to Newcastle.) When we arrived at Hickman arch we searched around a while and finally located Dean Prunty's office. It was hiding right behind KFRU's transmitting plant. After keeping us waiting a few minutes the great man appeared and beckoned us into his inner sanctum. We entered while he sat down in a big swivel chair be- hind a large desk and gave us the im- pression that he was glaring down at us with great malice. His eyes belied this, though, for there was a sadistic twinkle in them. He asked what he could do for Showme. We almost told him but restrained ourselves. "Doctor," we said, hoping he was a doctor of something or other but not really knowing, "exactly what don't you like about college humor?" "I don't think I care to interview you," he retorted, waving us to the door. We mumbled something about the fact that we were interviewing him, not he interviewing us, but soon found ourselves standing out- side on Broadway. This is how we came to do this report on the Stephens' Playhouse. We had to fill this column with some- thing. "I'm not going to tell you again, Johnson. The win- dows of the girls' dorm are to be washed in the afternoons only." One Friday evening not long after we were ejected from Dean Prunty's office, we wandered back over to Stephens, still dragging our weary secretary behind us. What these poor kids won't do to earn activity points. Stephens was presenting "The Time of Your Life," a play by Wil- liam Saroyan, which takes place ex- clusively in a barroom, one in which we might add, Susies cannot go be- cause alcoholic beverages are served. We went inside and bought our tickets. The box-office assigned us seats B.3 and B.4. These were in the second row all the way over. And we do mean all the way. We had a wonderful view of the wings. We noticed the orchestra already tuning up in the pit. The orchestra con- sisted of an automatic record changer concealed behind a flimsy screen. We settled back in our chairs and counted the house. There were 19 rows, each of which contained 18 seats. By great mathematical figur- ing we came to the conclusion that there were approximately 342 people in the house. Then we counted the names on the program. They total 94. This, we figured, meant that every three and one-half people in the audience had one individual to entertain them. We chuckled and settled back as the houselights dimmed, waiting to be entertained. At the first intermission we woke up and said, "Anything interesting going on?" "Yes," said the secretary, "I think they're drinking real beer on the stage. At least it has a head on it." The houselights dimmed. At the second intermission we again awoke, only to find that the only interesting event was that the assistant news edi- tor of the Missouri Student had put in an appearance in a supporting role and had put too much chewing gum in his mouth (as the script called for), giving him a bemumped ap- pearance. "Chewing gum, hell," we said, "that was just unused venom that he was waiting to spit at Showme." In the. third act our secretary slept too, so she can't say much about it. One of these days we must go see "The Time of Your Life." We un- derstand it's a very good play. -F. C. S: MAH. CHARLIE'S KAMPUS TOWNE GROCER EVER-EAT CAFE Charm Cottage Dean's Town & Country donn's corner I JUST spent a delightful ten minutes at my neighborhood theatre. Ten Minutes? I never stay any longer than that. You see, I only go to the movies to watch the pre- vues. Oh, that's not unusual. Quite a few of my. friends have found the prevues much more exicting and in- teresting than the pictures. The prevues leave so much more to the imagination and they're so intriguing and fascinating-well, here, let me show you what I mean: If you watch a regular feature picture, you first must sit through a long list of screen credits. (In a Western I saw one night, for in- stance, I had to wait through twelve minutes of titles showing who had directed and produced the picture, bisected the camera angles, and se- duced the leading lady.) In the prevues now, you don't wait through anything. You plunge right into the spirit of the picture with something like this: THUNDERING ACROSS THE SCREEN WITH ALL THE THRILLS OF THRILLING THUN- DER COMES "THE WILD WEST!" Now that's the way to start a pic- ture! Superimpose that title on a shot of a cattle stampede in tech- nicolor and you've really got some- thing. A cheer forms in your throat as you see the steers roaring right off the screen and I know that I usually feel that I'm whirling a lariat around my head to stop that onrush- ing rush. Yippee! Yippee-i-ay! Yippee-i-ooo! (Pardon me, Vaughan.) Before I get carried away, I'd better go on with the prevues. The next scene is always something like this: Lute, the Texas Ranger is confront- ing Spade, the gambler, in a saloon. The bartender and customers are hid- ing behind the mahogany bar. Lute: I'm coming for you, Spade! (He steps. forward.) Spade: Yeh? (He steps backward.) Lute: Yeh! (He steps forward) Spade: Yeh? (H steps forward) thinking to fool Lute. But, no.) Lute: Yeh. (He steps forward.) Spade: All right, tough guy, you asked for this. Draw! (He goes for his gun Lute goes for his. A blast of gunfire wipes the scene from view as a flaming red title leaps from the screen: TWO MEN BATTLING FOR THE LOVE OF A HORSE!) Boy, what excitement! Who got shot? Is Lute killed or does the evil Spade meet his downfall? See what I mean? In the prevues you never know what happens and you can fill in the blanks with your own imagina- tion. Criminals can chuckle as they imagine the limp form of the Texas Ranger falling to the floor; righteous- minded people can see the vicious gambler dead with a bullet through his larynx; Puritans can envision the fight being stopped by a minion of the law before anyone get hurt. In the full length picture, you have to take things the way they're given. Watch the prevues and you have a choice. Or, take the scene where the Texas Ranger first meets the heroine: Lute: (slapping the girl's face vici- ously): You hell-cat! Girl: (stabbing at his eyes with a bowie knife) : Blast you! Lute: (breaking her arm to make her drop the knife): Hell-cat! Girl: (horribly mutilating his face with her fingernails): Blast you! Lute: (suddenly realizing his feel- ing and embracing her): I love you, Rio. Girl: And I love you, Lute. The scene fades out slowly as they kiss. How's that for flaming passion? Two caged beasts suddenly tamed by love! And in the full-length picture, you have to sit patiently for who- knows-how-long just to see that one magnificent scene. No, sir. Not for me. I'm happy just to read such things as Dynamic Destruction Drip- ping from Doomed Daredevils! and The Old West of the Pioneers Lives Again in Rugged Revelry and Glor- ious Technicolor as the Forces of Evil Battle the Forces of Law and Order in "The Wild West!" And as soon as the prevues fade out with the an- nouncement, COMING TO THIS THEATRE NEXT WEEK, I quietly rise from my seat and leave the theatre. -DoNN. Henri Noel My girl sure is a dream in her new formal from Julies 31 SUDDEN SERVICE CLEANERS Breisch's Restaurant Swami's Side-Slappers "I'm stork mad," said the father of fifteen children. Two old ladies were enjoying the music in the park. "I think this is a Minuet from Mignon," said one. "I thought it was a waltz from Faust," said the other. The first went over to what she thought was the board announcing the numbers. "We're both wrong," she said when she got back. "It's a refrain from Spitting." There was a young lady of Trent Who said she knew what it meant When men asked her to dine: Gave her cocktails and wine, She knew what it meant-but she went. "My mother and father were brother and sister and that's why I look so much alike." Oscar Wilde. The difference between amnesia and magnesia is that the fellow with amnesia cant' remember where he is going. "Give me a hand, will ya?" 1AFTER THOUGHTS Suzie is a right smart girl, She is also very wise, Suzie can't do everything- But how she can improvise. -G. T. S. Many a girl who's on the shelf Could easily have saved herself Numerous remorses, If she had nabbed a wedding ring Before she started exploiting Her natural resources. -PENNY. There once was a maiden named Jinx, Who closely resembel a Sphynx; But she had lots of dough, So to Stephens did go, But said, "My God, this place stinks." -W. 0. D. Beautiful girl, nicknamed Jan, Lustrous hair, calves of tan, Lovely ankles, cute little toes Exotic figure, glamerous clothes, Gorgeous eyes, soft smooth hands, Why in the hell can't she get a man? It does seem strange, but-Holy Moses, I guess it's because she has three noses. -EARLEY A. RISER. Suzie A rag, a bone A hank of hair; Fort Knox combined With savoir-faire. -G. T. S. We are driven, alas, to conclude, That a ram is decidedly lewd, If he follows his women To watch them go swimmin', And views a few ewes in the nude. -T. M. N. A. There once was a girl named Lucille, Who was made in an automobile; That wasn't so bad, But what made her mad Was hitting her head on the wheel. -W. O. D. I love me, I'm quite affectional. You might say I'm homosectional. When I meet me, I introduce myself, And sometime I Will seduce myself. -DONN. "Too bad, Digsby, but you don't have a chance-she and I are pinned." 33 short story contest winner The Lid Was Up Screams from the ladies latrine set of an un- paralleled mystery within the confines of Stephens College. KNIGHT'S DRUG SHOP . . . KRIB . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . E EEEEOOWWWW! ! The scream rushed through the third floor ladies' latrine, out the half-closed door, down the hall, and finally came to rest in the daintily perfumed boudoir of Miss Zilch, housemother of Swillbury Hall. Although Miss Zilch had become quite accustomed to hearing screams through her forty years of service at Stephens, she was extremely startled at this one. "What kind of business is this, at 7:03 in the morning?" she muttered, tossing her once looked-at legs over .the edge of the bed and shoving her eight-D feet into her bunny slippers. She grabbed her blue bathrobe from the closet and dashed into the hall. While walking toward the point of excitement, another shriek started its round of the dormitory. Miss Zilch, looking through half-open eyes, was able to make out three young bodies dash from the wash room and down the hall. She calmly entered the tiled powder-room and pushed her way to the head of a group of early- morning queens who were crowded before the closed door of the third toilet from the end. "And what is the meaning of all this?" she queried, not actually ex- pecting a logical answer. Twelve girls spoke at once. "It's up, I tell you, UP, damnit!" "You're seeing things." "Look for yourself!" "The hell I will." Five other girls, in their pre-break- fast faces, stood in a corner and giggled as well as they were able at 7:05 AM. After all, it wasn't every morning that excitement was to be found in the third floor washroom, unless, well. . "Good ole Mom! She comes through again." Miss Zilch, sneering as only Miss Zilch could sneer, grasped the shiny door handle and bravely entered the third stall from the end. While two girls screamed a fitting background, Miss Zilch stood trembling, unable to move her eyes from this incredible phenonmenon. The toilet seat was raised! That evening, George Buse, Colum- bia representative of the Pinkerton Detective Agency, Inc., downed his third Scotch and water, belched in- differently, and said, "Hmmm." "And not only have three of our girls left school, but the housing of- fice is besieged with applications from 1669 women who wish to transfer to Swillburg Hall, third floor." The president of Stephens College inter- rupted his speech, poured two more drinks, and handed one to the detec- tive, who was nonchalantly eyeing Miss Zilch. The demure housemother, who had not said anything up to this point, rose from her chair in the corner and approached the two men menacingly. "If this business is not cleared up immediately, I shall be forced to hand in my resignation." The grey- haired matron threatened the cower- ing president. "This is disgraceful! The other housemothers are beginning to call me the 'House-Madame'!" "If it hadn't been for your damned negligence, all this would never have happened," the president said in de- fense. Miss Zilch walked toward the door, mumbling half-aloud, "You lousy men are all he same." The door slammed as she left. The slim detective made a nota- tion in his black notebook while com- menting, "Hmmm." The president finished his drink. George finished his. Two more were (continuted on page 40 ) PAUL'S TEXACO SERVICE ANDYS CORNER True Confession No. 537 My FLing With a Suzie Ever felt the breath of a hot Suzie on the back of your neck? No? Beware, for your day may come. IT ALL started innocently enough. After a grueling evening at the bridge table I decided to journey to a local bristo for the usual (choco- late shake with a beer chaser). As I pushed through the doorway mob, my thoughts were far from sex. In fact, I was thinking of my shins, which had been badly bruised during the bidding. Straddling a counter stool, I reached for a dog-eared menu. A sudden canine yelp startled me. I blushed, realizing that I had mis- takenly grabbed a menu-eared dog. After placing my order, I scanned the room, half-expecting to see my roommate who had been missing for three weeks. My bloodshot stare froze on a pair of luscious legs. Above them was the face of a queen. Be- low them were the words, "Pevely's Pimple Paste-Calendar, 1949." An anemic waitress imbedded a glass in front of me, sloshing milk- shake on my sweater. I scribbled pro- fane words on the counter with my only finger-I lost the others in a Rush Week handshake. I had just started to pick up my glass when I felt someone biting my ear lobe. Turning my head slowly, painfully, I was consumed by the hot breath of a woman on my neck. There, big as life and reeking of perfume, stood a Stephens Susie. Her face was plastered with pan- cake makeup, but underneath those layers was the sweet innocence of an angry cobra. Her body was Esquire- ish, her dress Vogueish, and her per- sonality Police Gazetteish. "Hellllloooo there, big boy," she drawled. I was in luck. She was one of the few Susies who could talk. "Hello, yourself," I said cleverly. "Hello, yourself, yourself," she re- torted. I was stumped. She released her hold on my ear lobe and lit a fag. I gulped my shake in a haze of marijuana smoke. Again she spoke. "Got a car, big boy?" Cold beads of sweat dripped off my face, diluting my shake. "No," I replied shakily. She squeezed my biceps in a death grip. "Oh, that's all right," she purred. "I know a spot over by Lela Rainey Would that'll do just as good." I tried to pull away, but she had me pinned to the counter. Her glassy eyes peered into mine. A slight drool trickled from the corner of her quivering lips. "J-just as good for-for what?" I moaned. "As if you didn't know! Quit stalling, you man you!" With a twist she jerked me off the stool and led me outside. Again I protested. "Look," she sneered, "what've you got to lose? My old man is worth two million, my uncle owns half of "Hey, Mike, look through that can and see if you can find the other half." Texas, and this necklace I'm wearing is pure Tasmanian pearl." She pulled down her blouse to show me her pearls. I looked. They were nice. "But what if a watchman sees us?" I sniveled. "I've bribed them all," she boasted. "Come on, faster!" She was dragging me up Broadway, ignoring startled bystanders. "But-but I don't even know your name," I complained. "Maide. Ella Zithers Maide. But you may call me 'E. Z.'," she panted. I grabbed a lamp post, but she pulled me away. We entered an iron gateway. "We're almost there," she exclaimed gleefully, kicking off her shoes. I called to a nearby watchman who was busy window-peeping. He ig- nored me. "Right behind this hedge," my cap- tor whispered lustily. I saw it was useless to struggle any longer. I decided to submit. She threw me to the ground, pin- ning down my arms. Then she kneeled beside me. "Okay, big boy," she gasped, "here's the lowdown." I steeled myself for the inevitable. "I'm taking a course here in the Art of Love," she confided. "All the time this teacher keeps talking about sex. I've decided I haven't been getting my share. The minute I saw you I knew you were the one to do it." I blinked, coughed, and hiccupped. "To-to do what?" "Hell, that's up to you. I don't know. I've only read the first chap- ter of the damn book!" The whole thing ended right there. I hadn't even see the book, much less read the first chapter. -STU DENT CAMPUS SNACK MISSOURI TELEPHONE COMPANY Boy of the Month... PHOTOGRAPH BY GIBBONS GRIFFIN AT JULIES' ALLEN SCHWARTZ Senior in Journalism . . . S.G.A. Public Relations Chairman . . . Ex-president of Missouri Workshop . . . University Men's Burrall Cabinet . . Q.E.B.H., senior men's honorary . . . Omicron Delta Kappa, service honorary . Purple Mask, dramatics honorary . . . Phi Eta Sigma, freshman scholastic honorary . . . Zeta Beta Tau . . . 20 . Louisville, Kentucky. Girl of the Month... PHOTOGRAPH BY GIBBONS GRIFFIN AT JULIES' CARYL BERCOVICI Senior in Arts and Science . . Mortar Board . . . Vice-President and ex-Point System Chairman of Associated Women Students . . . secretary of Kappa Epsilon Alpha, freshman honorary . . vice-president of Sigma Epsilon Sigma, sophomore honorary . . . ex-vice-president, social chairman of Alpha Epsilon Phi . . . 21 . . . Omaha, Nebraska. The Pen Point Golden Campus THE LID. (continued from page 35 ) poured. Then another two. A new bottle was opened. The grey-eyed detective, his tongue loosened by the liquor, looked over his notes and spoke, "The last man that was known to have been in this dormitory, you agree, was a plumber who was called in in 1929 to repair a toilet bowl which had be- come corroded by the excessive brew- ing of bootleg gin. Gin? Ugh! Gimme some more of that real stuff." The president reached for the Haig and Haig and filled the glasses. "Yes, George, you don't mind if I call you George, do you? Heh, heh- they were the good days. Lots of gin and I was the only unmarried man on the faculty. Those lectures! Those conferences! One sweet young thing would do anything for a pass- ing grade. We were married that June. Damn! Let's have another. Much better than the toilet bowl gin . . . heh, heh . . . yes, sir. Six hours and three bottles later, the upholder of education and the upholder of law were scarcely able to uphold each other. Nevertheless, the president took a brace of bottles and motioned for the detective to follow him. Once outside, the two gentlemen stopped and raised their bottles in a toast to the blackness of the night. "Oftentimes," bashfully confessed the director of the college as he stooped to remove his shoes, "when there was no moon, I would partake in a little sport which afforded me the greatest of pleasure-until that damn Boston girl caught the signifi- cance this morning. She raised such a howl that I don't know whether my game will mean the same any- more." He almost sobbed, but gulped at his bottle instead. "When- ever I feel a bit as I do now. . . . Oh, Hell! C'mon, we'll play this game together." Hand in hand the two danced light- ly over the lawn to the nearest women's dormitory. As if by magic the president slipped into an unlocked window. The detective slipped also- on a piece of wet grass. As he lay on his back, contemplating the stars and the silence, he heard from the building the unmistakeable creak- click, creak-click of a toilet seat hinge and the soft giggle of the presi- dent. -Bob SKOIE. The DEN Dorn-Cloney STEIN CLUB Frozen Gold Ice Cream Swami's Side-Slappers How does aeronautics explain the fact that some of the girls with the most streamlined figures offer the most resistance? First Coed: "Have a good time the other night?" Second Coed: "No, I've got too much will power." "Beg pardon, but aren't you one of the college boys?" "No-It's just that I could find my suspenders this morning, my razor blades were used up and a bus just ran over my hat." "How do you get rid of these awful cooties?" "That's easy. Take a bath in sand and rub down in alcohol. The cooties get drunk and kill each other throw- ing rocks." "I know a place where women don't wear anything--except a string of beads once in a while." "Holy gee, where?" "Around their necks!" Man (trying to explain a black eye): "Well, I was carrying a drunk home . . . and he dropped me." Jerrymandering With Jerry Smith LAST TUESDAY I am sitting around one of the local something-or- others, partaking of a this-or-that and reading the humor column of a local publication (I think)-which appears faintly familiar to me-when who yanks a batch of copy out of my hand but Plagiarism Trite, the humor columnist. "Aha," screams Plagiarism, rapidly jotting notes, "The other day I am sitting in a local place partaking of a glass of something when someone informs me that the next issue of the Showme will be the "Stephens Issue." So, for the information of such people who are not informed on these things, I would like to say that this Stephens place is a small town in Columbia surrounded by a poverty- stricken suburb know as Columbia. My pal, Sigma Al, tells me that this place has several thousand girls (all named Suzan) who can't decide whether they want to get married or buy U. S. Steel. He says they have very fine courses for these frills at Stephens. There is a general course in which they teach, "How to nail an over-age veteran at fifty paces", "Luggage bombardment on a Grey- hound Bus", and "Suggestive wink- ing over a hot-fudge sundae." For those frills who are more in- terested in a technical course they have: "Marital Relations"-how to get along with the husband's girl friends; "Algebra"-dividing Stan- dard Oil Shares by two alimony grants; "Economics"-the law of di- minishing heart burns; and "Chemis- try"--try two Alka-Seltzers, three aspirins and a deep-freeze helmet. Sigma says these frills have a very limited social life--open house six nights a week. However, their rules are very lenient. They can ride in cars anytime-during class hours. They can go out any night during the week-as long as it's Saturday. And when one of them gets married, they award her a Master of Wonder- ful Arts and Sciences (How did you do it?) degree and build a new fence in her honor. But the Suzans have one thing that most frills don't have-and it isn't money. No, it's annuities. Madden Burndup, the ex-G.I., tells me the real behind-the-scenes dope on this Navy demoralization is because of this unification deal. The Navy is mad because the Air Force takes away all their diesel oil and the Navy doesn't have a damn thing to swab decks with. And, besides, the Air Force uniform has pockets in it. umor has it that a N.R.O.T.C. mid- die sneered at an R.O.T.C. private, and Colonel Commander-in-Chief is going to change the number on T-8 to B-36 in retaliation. Speaking of rumors, Smudge Pot Briar, the pipe smoker, happens to mention the Student Union the other day and seven reporters of a local publication make him sign guarantees that the place will be built in six weeks. Lefty Waynger, the radical, in- forms me that the Russians discover a mountain laying around that wasn't good for anything else so they name the thing for Robeson (the one with tonsils). This is a very high moun- tain with a plateau overlooking the salt mines. In honor of this oc- casion Shastakovich is composing a symphony to be entitled, "When the Moon Comes Over The Robeson Mountain, I'll Be waiting at the Los Alamos Gates, Red Red Blues." According to Bud Wyser, the psych major, the local flatfeet will no longer ask of traffic offenders. "Are (continued next page) PHONO- GRILL Esser you a student?" This is to bring about nice relations between the school and the town. Now they will ask, "Are you a Columbia citi- zen?" This will probably make Co- lumbia citizens very angry, but there must be good relations with the Stu- dents. The flatfeet are also going to crack down on the cab drivers. For this purpose they have purchased a surplus jet 'Banshee'. When this plane is souped up they will be able to catch up with the cabs-with a running head start. The reason for this action is because a citizen tried to cross Hitt St. in front of the Tower and the cab driver, not know- ing who he was aiming at, almost demolished same citizen. It made the cabby so nervous he missed three stu- dents that day. Greek Towne, the man behind the pin, tells me that he reads in the paper that there are one hundred dateless Suzans every week-end. This is undoubtedly due to poor manage- ment, weak public relations, improper facilities, bad planning and ugly girls. I ask Cue Ball Stanza, the pool hall poet, what he has to say about the Suzan frills, and he says, "You can always get a date, at this place known as Stephens; you may not get the best, but, they have the finest leavin's." The frills themselves claim that M.U. men are timid. This is a re- mote feminine word meaning cau- tious and particular. The Stephens politbureau, however, has its own opinion Legal Graft, the B.&.P.A. Student, tells me that the Students of a lo- cal high school were able to clear the school in 2:29 minutes by a technique learned in a training film. This film was a movie of the 8:30 Basic Principles of Econ class at 9:30 -actual combat shots, too. In view of the recent advancements in the scientific world and the pos- sibilities of soon making excursions to the moon, Nosey Eversharp, the J-school student, has written a play which I will relate for the benefit of his fans. It is titled: LOVE-LATE 20TH CENTURY (Scene: Any lonesome parking spot. It is night. He and She are nestled in the convertible.) He: Gee, Goitrude, it's nice sittin' here with you. She: Yeah. Gee. H: Look at the moon, Goitrude. Ain't it wonnerful? S: My girl friend, Maggie, took one of them excursions to the moon. H: Ain't it beautiful? S: Ain't a livin' thing on it. H: Makes a person romantic. S: Air's so thin you can't breath without a mask. H: It shines real bright, just like your eyes. S: It's dark as a coal mine, Maggie says. Can't see nothin'. H: Look at the man in the moon, gee. S: The left eye's a big valley full of rocks. H: Gee, it sure looks wonnerful. S: Rocks-nothin' but rocks. Ain't a livin' thing on it. H: Kind of makes you all warm inside to look at it. Kind of warm like. S: It's so cold you have to carry your own furnace. H: Ain't it romantic? S: Makes a person shiver to think of it. H: (Sighs) The sun will be out soon. S: Yeah. H: Won't that be romantic? S: Yeah. THE END Columbia Opticians THE DIXIE Odus Powell's Standard Station Chesterfield Cigarettes Swami's Side-Slappers Husband: "After I get up in the morning and shave I feel ten years younger. Wife: "Why don't you shave before you go to bed?" A housewife, shopping on the cook's day off, ran into her servant down- town. The servant was wheeling a baby carriage. "My," said the matron. "What a pretty child. Whose its it?" "Mine, ma'am," she replied. "But I thought you were an old maid." "Oh, I am, but not a fussy old maid." Bus Driver: "Madam, I'll have to have full fare for that child. He's over five years of age." Lady: "But he can't be. I have only been married four years." Bus Driver: "Never mind the con- fessions madam. Let's have the money." He was so bashful, he took mistle- toe along on his honeymoon. CHESTERFIELD CONTEST Please MAIL your entry to this month's contest. The ten bearing the earliest postmark will get the Chesterfields. Address: Showme, Read Hall, Columbia, Mo. LAST MONTH'S WINNERS Fanice Eisner Jerry Epstein Jane Duff Dan McDermott Jack Abrams Sharon Schiff Frank Rickey R .D. Daton Glen Fliehman Ann Dierking Switzer's Licorice Moon Valley Villa BRADY'S Beech-Nut Gum Missouri Showme Contributors' Page Pat Bauman PHOTOGRAPH BY JULIES' STUDIO After two years of slaving on the Showme art staff-two hard, faith- ful years of contributing spots, car- toons, story illustrations, and center. spreads-Pat Bauman has finally realized her greatest ambition . . . to do a cover. Yes, 'twas none other than 'Bleachie' from Webster Groves, Mo., who drew the plight of the Stephens girl on our cover. Pat's got lots of talent; so she spreads it around a little and works for Savitar and S.G.A. She is a member of Delta Phi Delta, honor- ary art fraternity, and a Kappa Alpha Theta. Pat is wondering what greater heights you can attain after drawing a cover. . . . Maybe more covers. Mary Ann Fleming Each month when the magazine comes out, Mary Ann Fleming can be seen up. in the office busily ad- dressing envelopes, putting magazines in envelopes, and sticking stamps on envelopes. These may be menial tasks, but they're important ones-and the little St. Louis sophomore, who just joined our secretarial staff this Fall, does her work efficiently and with sex-appeal. The editorial staff is always cry- ing for beautiful secretaries, so that's where Mary Ann comes in. As for her job, she says, "The best thing about it is the hot fudge sundaes the editor buys after we've taken the magazines to the post office." Terry Rees We've got a guy on our staff who has ability, talent, brains, good looks, a terrific personality, and sex appeal -and besides all this, he constantly reminds us of the fact. This hunk of what every woman and Terry Rees admires is our art editor, Terry Rees. "Ace" (sometimes mis-pronounced) has been 'operating' on the Stephens campus this year, where he has been seducing the girls . . . into buying Showme subscriptions. Terry, a Columbia boy, is a 19- year-old junior majoring in girls and advertising art. His hobby is girls and advertising art, and his ambition is to draw beautiful girls. Besides these extra-curricular acti- vities, Terry is a member of Kappa Sigma and the 'let's-have-a-purple- passion-party-tonight' club. He also does cartoons and illustrations for Showme. Beautiful girls interested in model- ing may call 7511 and ask for "Ace." PHOTOGRAPH BY JULIES' STUDIO EDDIE'S TOGGERY Chesterfield Cigarettes