Showme January, 1956Showme January, 195620081956/01image/jpegUniversity of Missouri Special Collections, Archives and Rare Book DivisionThese pages may be freely searched and displayed. Permission must be received for subsequent distribution in print or electronically. Please contact hollandm@missouri.edu for more information.Missouri Showme Magazine CollectionUniversity of Missouri Digital Library Production ServicesColumbia, Missouri108show195601Showme January, 1956; by Students of the University of MissouriColumbia, MO 1956
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"Oh the wonder of it all!"
Issue
Showme
January
25 cents
A presents MAIL ORDERS NOW ACCEPTED!
1956 Cavalcade of Stars Revuesent
1956 Cavalcade of Stars Revue
featuring
JUNE CHRISTY
ERROLL GARNER TRIO
THE FOUR FRESHMAN
JIMMY TUCKER'S ORCHESTRA
JUNE CHRISTY
THE FOUR FRESHMAN
ERROLL GARNER
america's greatest JAZZ show!
Two Big Shows: 7 and 9:30 p.m.
February 14
JESSE AUDITORIUM
ALL SEATS RESERVED
$1.50
Tuesday
February 14
SGA TICKET OFFICE
243 Student Union
Enclosed is $ . . in full payment for . . . . tickets
to the . . . p.m. performance of Cavalcade of Star Revue.
I perfer . . . . .Orchestra . . . . Balcony Seats.
Name . .
Enclose Stamped
Self Addressed Address
Envelope with Letter City
City
Pucketts
Showme
ERNIE'S
STEAK
HOUSE
Letters
The White House, Washington,
Thank you for arranging for the
President to receive a subscrip-
tion to your campus magazine,
SHOWME, the first copy of which
has been received. He appreciates
your thoughtfulness and asked
me to extend his best wishes to
all who had a part in this remem-
brance.
Ann C. Whitman,
Personal Secretary
to the President
HOLIDAY ISSUE great, es-
pecially enjoyed lines six thru ten
of Editor's Ego. Congratulations
and Merry Christmas to your en-
tire staff.
Terry Porter,
SGA
It's understandable that you
like that morsal. For the benefit
of the casual reader, lines six
thru ten referred the journalistic
mess made by those juveniles who
run the other campus humor pub,
the MANEATER. And a Happy
New Year, Terry.
ECAT
Dear Editor:
There seems to be a great
amount of industry and talent de-
voted to your magazine. Why not
direct all this creativity toward
something worthwhile? Smut is
hardly a worthy aim. You could,
for instance, help advance the
ethics and general morality which
are so generally ignored by mod-
ern youth. I would wager that
when you reflect on the lower
grades you probably receive be-
cause of this activity you some-
times wonder whether the aca-
demic drop is justified by a
magazine full of coarse belly-
laughs.
Martin Rhiengold,
Peculiar.
Soap-box morality and ethical
standards are better for a few
bellylaughs than smut Mr. Rhien-
gold. A man with a narrow outlook
gets tedious as hell. Yes, our grades
drop, we drink too much coffee,
and we do meditate about it a
little at the end of each semester.
But we don't flog ourself with a
chain if we find a cu'ssword in
context. And we think our morals
are probably as fine as yours,
Martin. Incidentally, thanx for
your judgement that SHOWME pro-
vides coarse humor. We wonder
sometimes if the magazine is get-
ting across. But then someone of
your caliber ups and reassures us
that the stuff is OK after all.
Thank you.
ECAT
"I cheated!"
Who Will Be
Your 1956 Showme Queen
Showme Queen Coronation and
Crystal Ball Date to be Announced
Nation-wide publicity
Annual convertible-caravan to St. Louis
Escorted while in St. Louis by a celebrity
Accommodations in presidential suite of the Melbourne
Hotel
Radio, TV, and other public appearances in St. Louis
Banquet and tour of exclusive nite spots
Many other highlights to make her the most envied Queen
of all Missouri
Attendance by Invitation Only
Preliminary Judging to take place February 8
Watch for announcements.
Showme
The Novus
Shop
Editor's
Ego
FROM THE indignant ejaculation
of, "What kind of girl do you
thirrk I am," to the haltingly mur-
mured sound of Well . ll . I
guess it's all right. We are pinned
. " by way of the freshman in his
monastic dormitory cell, sadly
contemplating his navel, Swami
swings the bright light of his
crystal ball across the scene and
is heard to mischievously say, "Oh
the wonder of it all!"
Behind nearly every reverse
repp tie, and beneath every cash-
mere covered field of battle there
beats a heart veritiably bursting
with young romance. It is from
the inspiration of this everlasting
collegiate universality that Swami
has chosen the theme for the
January Issue of SHOWME. If we
seem unsympathetic toward the
foibles of the merging herd, and
overly pointed in our ridicule of
their maneuverings and meander-
ing's, you must remember that
Swami like all ficticious gremlins,
and evil spirits cannot associate
with mortals on their own tem-
poral level. But, after the lights
in Read Hall have been flicked
out and the doors securely barred
you can well imagine that the
Old Boy is sitting in his darkened
lair, wistfully observing the even-
ing's activities, and more than
Si k e 1 y muttering to himself,
"There, but for the Grace of God,
go I."
THERE ARE some places left in
the world where editors of
SHOWME are still socially accept-
able, and I had the opportunity
this New Years past of attending
one of them. There were well
filled, brightly colored balloons
floating on the ceiling, half filled
brightly colored young ladies
floating on the divans, and lovely
golden children of some eight or
nine summers dashing about in
their Ked's sneakers discoursing
knowinly on, "Anti-disestablished
disestablishmentarinism."
The highlight of the evening in
such an atmosphere was, of
course, a game of charades-for
blood! The opposing team evi-
dently hopeing to get off to a
big early lead slipped me a pristi-
line white slip of paper with the
carefully drawn words "The
Aenid," inscribed in the center of
it. Though I happened to know
that it was by Virgil rather than
Polly Adler, I knew damn little
else, and our side went un-
gloriously into the hole. Then an
entertaining portrayal, by a
working journalist on the other
team, of "Tales of the South
Pacific, (That's right-You've got
the picture) Set us further back.
We decided that drastic measures
must be taken to forstall a com-
plete rout . And recalling that
immortal statement by Leo Der-
ocher, to whit: "Nice guy's don't
win ball-games," we put our heads
together and hastily scrawled and
handed to our hostess-a pure as
the driven snow, lovely, last year's
Phi Beta Kap, imaginatively con-
structed, Kappa-the job of de-
picting through gestures The De-
cameron. Sitting back smugly
and pleasantly whirling the ice
around in our glass, we watched
the lamb hesitently take her place
on the site of her impending
slaughter. She stared at the
paper, her virginal, young cheeks
flushed scarlet, and she seemed to
raise her eye's heavenward seek-
ing a lost minute reprieve from
her public defilement. The de-
liverence not forthcoming, she
gazed balefully around at her
smirking audience. Then she was
aflame, a frenzy, a wild and un-
tramlled thing. Her sculptured
white arms flew, gesturing, im-
ploring understanding. Her soft
child's lips were parted in eager
passion, and her eye's flashed
from one uncomprehending face
to another, moving among them,
begging, pleading,-And in seven-
teen seconds flat she had acom-
plished the damn thing-BY SYL-
LABLES. For some reason it
wasn't long after that everyone
shook hands and went home
Maybe next year I'll go to a
mid-nite movie. I'll match you
for the price of admission.
ECAT
Staff
EDITOR
ECAT
BUSINESS MANAGER
Chuck McDaneld
EDITORIAL ASST.
Carolyn Ford
ART EDITORS
Dick Noel
Jack Duncan
FEATURE EDITOR
Bob Williams
ADVERTISING
Dale Puckett
Pud Jones
CIRCULATION
Jerry Moseley
Carl Weseman
PUBLICITY
Ann Cornett
Sylvia Samuels
SUBSCRIPTIONS
Joanne Petefish
PHOTO EDITOR
Norman Weimholt
EXCHANGES
Sue Slayton
CHIEF SECRETARY
Bev Engle
JOKE EDITORS
Katie Kelly
Bob Garrett
ARTISTS
Sandy Junkin
Earl Cramer
Will Bittick
Bill Tyler
Bill Moseley
Stonewall
WRITERS
Bob Cates
Virginia Terman
Jim Linthicum
PHOTOGRAPHERS
Bill Newman
Dick Shoemaker
the missouri
FEATURES
Skip Troelstrup Returns to Mizzou . 10
17 Brentwood Drive a story
by Jack Duncan . . . . . . . 12
Columbia After Dark
photo feature . . . . . . . . 15
Adams Apple
a satire . . . . . . . . . . . . 18
The Cowboy and the Lady-3 days out
a story by E. C. A. Thompson. . . 24
Moderne '56 . . . . . . . . 33
VOLUME 33 JANUARY, 1956 NUMBER 4
Showme
SHOWME is published nine times, October through June, during the college year by the Students of the University
of Missouri. Office: 302 Read Hall, Columbia, Mo. All rights reserved. Unsolicited manuscripts will not be returned
unless accompanied by a self-addressed, stamped envelone. Advertising rates furnished on request. National Adver-
tising Representative: W. B. Bradbury Co., 122 E. 42nd St., New York City. Printer: Kelly Press, Inc., Columbia,
Mo. Price: 25c a single copy; subscriptions by mail $3.00. Office hours: 3:00 to 5:00 p.m., Monday through Friday,
302 Read Hall.
T'is the majority.
-Emily Dickenson
Around the Columns
Dear people: If much of the
following seems rather incoher-
ent, please take into consideration
the fact that it was written at 4
a.m. on the morning of January
1st.
January
Hoo ha here is that old greasy
month of January creeping up on
us after the Joyeux (that's
French) Yule and stabbing us in
the back and it gets me right here.
Grunt ummph ahh. Firmly re-
solved . . never to do it again .
even if it is New Year's Eve .
resolved . . . to work and study
and sweat and make soft grunt-
ing noises from now till finals . . .
there! I said it! Finals. For shame
. . a dirty word . . . resolved . .
never to step on friendly bugs
anymore . . . resolved . . . not to
smoke at the basketball games .
Silly . . . resolved . . . resolutely
. resolution . resolubility.
resolutionist . . . resolvable . . .
garbage . . . resolved . . . to help
old ladies across the street . . .
into one of the excuvations on
Conley . . . har har . . . wonder
what happens to all those horns
and paper hats? And the tons of
confetti? And those invariable
drunks named Hank or Bill who
are always helped into cabs at 11
o'clock? But never mind . . . for
this is a new year and verily we
shall start a clean slate and began
anew all fresh and clean and ob-
noxious and yell and holler loud
unnecessary pleasant greetings to
dogs and birds and catterpillers
and other people and be happy.
And drink more beer. And cheat
on final. Resolved . . . never to
make another resolution . . . Jan-
rary . . . ahhh . . might as well
make a fresh start next year.
You think the New Year ain't
been rough?
Suzie Step-Ins
Those of you who were lucky
enought to have gone ice-skating
on some of the local ponds last
December saw a rare thing . . .
Suzies in jeans (not to be con-
fused with genes in Suzies, a per-
fectly natural phenomenon.)
Well. Uh. I guess that's all. I
just had to get that bit about
genes in. I'm gonna look at the
test pattern on T.V. Be right
back.
Negitive People
Among several other highly in-
telligent actions the University
has taken this year is that of reg-
ulating our holiday vacation to
run from noon, Dec. 20, until
noon, Jan. 3. This was so highly
intelligent that I break into a cold
sweat when I think of the result-
ing chaos if we didn't have such
a highly intelligent faculty to
make such highly intelligent ac-
tions. Just think of the sleepless
nights and lengthy discussion that
must have been endured by these
consciencous souls.
Noon. Noon!
If it was up to me I would
have no doubt gone off half-
cocked and made it 9:46 or 11:28
or something equally rediculous.
But Noon. What split-second
thinking.
Let's see now, we were excused
at noon on a Tuesday, weren't
we? Yeah. Awright, look at it
this way. See, if we had been
excused on the preceding Friday,
that would have given us four
more days of vacation. Now just
stop and think how lucky we
were. If we had left on Friday,
we probably would have pulled
out about dusk, and it would have
been dark when we got on the
highway. Now I wouldn't be a
bit surprised if maybe 50 or 60
per cent of us would've been
horribly mutilated through ac-
cidents. See? The way it was,
we got to stick around bustling
Columbia until noon the next
Tuesday. Now just stop and think
a minute. Not too many people
get a chance to do that. No sir
they don't. But lucky us did. And
when we left to go home it was
broad daylight. No horrible hor-
rible horrible accidents.
Now there you are by cracky!
Aren't we the lucky ones?
Pardon me. I think I'm going to
be sick.
The Hucksters$
Hay boy, speaking of being
lucky, pretty soon now we get to
sell all our old books to those
wonderful bookstore people. I
don't know about you, but the
way I've got it figured, I'm liable
to have so much loot laying
around I'll be able to live in
luxury the rest of my life.
7
I guess I spent about 30 bucks
for books last semester. I imagine
I'll get that back and more. In
fact I wouldn't be a bit surprised
if I make maybe a ten or fifteen
dollar profit.
And all because of those won-
derful bookstore people. You
know, between all our good deals
on vacations and the unselfish
bookstore people I can hardly
contain myself.
But I can. (I use rope.) How-
ever, if any of you aren't able to
hold yourself in check, I'll gladly
loan you a shotgun. And Shells.
And extra shells. In fact, I'll . . .
Never mind. I'll do it myself.
Gladly.
Stop!
Brush your teeth. The enemy
is everywhere.
* * *
Odds, Ends, and Odd Ends
One of the things I wonder about,
Every now and then
Is where Mahatma Gandi
Kept his fountain pen.
Explanation from the math de-
partment:
A circle has no corners.
An oval has no corners, too.
But not nearly so no corners
as a circle has.
* * *
So There You Are
(Sorry Jenk, it just slipped
out.)
Those of us who weren't mak-
ing out too well over the holidays
are glad to be back, it says here.
Christmas was, as always, a
tremendjus success . . . bustling
crowds, fake Santas, bustling
salesgirls, egg nog, mistleto, sales-
girls, egg nog, egg nog . simply
wild. It was the last time some
of us will see the old homestead
till summer, an excuse used by
some to take certain advantages
. .of rigid traffic laws, pliable
girl friends, unguarded liquor
cabinets, etc. I refer here to that
bawdy element among us who
make up 94 of all SHOWME read-
ers.
So here it is '56, with the re-
spective campi retaining all their
usual color-red and white-and
it's hard to believe that the axes
will soon be falling, separating the
idiots from the morons, as it were.
(Hay, incidentally, did you ever
notice how often Professor Gist
over the Sociology Dept. says "as
it were"? Well, he does. All the
time he says "as it were". All the
time.)
And with all these exams star-
ing us in our wide-eyed kissers,
it's not inconceivable that several
of us will crack up, writhe on the
floor, and make occasional obsene
gestures in the general direction
of Jesse Hall, or Walter Williams
Hall, or whatever the hell it is.
Best nobody ever make any ob-
sene gestures at Old Lathrop,
however. It might collapse.
Anyway, January is that time
of month when nobody is certain
what Prof will hit first and how
hard. Of this much, however, you
can be sure: If you go wild on
essay exams you'll have to settle
for the old true-false; and if you
have a head full of facts, forget
Showme
'em-your boy will want General
Trends. That's the way it goes.
Always.
H & P Blues
Those completing a terrifying
semester in this J-School special-
ty are still wondering why, among
other things, they should know
that "The Spy was begun as a
tri-weekly in 1770 at only five
shillings a year, but the paper
was small." The answer, of
course, is ridiculously simple:
You should know this, children,
because it will be on the final
examination, worded slightly dif-
ferently.
Huawwwwwmmmpppeding
The above word is the mating
call of the wild and extremely
rare Kuttchaduffoff bird. Try it.
Throngs of Kuttchaduffoff birds
will engulf you.
Trefuriteredingmonetous
Now this word doesn't hardly
mean anything at all, but here is
a poem, as it were. As it were.
Damn-now he's got me saying
it.
* * *
When I was young and in my
prime,
I used to have a ruptured
spine
But now I'm old and got more
sense-
I never try to live in tents.
* * *
Say, you nasty people, I bet
I know what you thought the rest
of that verse was. Yes sir I do.
Happy Wednesday
Personal:
Lassie come home. All is for-
given. It was the wet umbrella.
"He fought dirty, Man. Did ya see him hit me with his crutch?"
Being by nature a rather senti-
mental soul, and since we are
starting off on a new lap on the
old treadmill, I and the rest of
the SHOWME staff would like to
take this opportunity to wish you
and yours a very happy and
profitable new year.
And special greetings of ex-
treme pleasantness to . . . Waldo,
the horse that thinks he's a dog
. to Tripod, the dog that thinks
he's a tripod . . . to Columbia
Police Force, they try so hard .
to Davy Crockett, who has gone
the way of Hopalong Cassidy,
short skirts, and the Charleston
. to Spargy Salcup, who knows
he's got to beat Kansas this year,
because he'll have a hard time do-
ing it for the next three . . . to
Friendly Fred McKinny, who tells
us we're all neurotic in such a
pleasant voice . to Dick Wheel-
er, the bartenders' bartender,
who's a nice guy because he some-
times sells beer to people who
appear to be midgets . to Adam
out at the Coronado, who, to hear
him tell it, has been losing money
since 1906 . . . to the Maneater
(hell, it's a new year) . . . to
President Ellis, who must have
ulcers by this time . . . to the
people out at Breezy Hill, who
are human because they don't
kick us out before we've finished
out fifth. to George Gobel, who
keeps a lot of us off the streets
Saturday night . . . until 9:30 . .
to the Saddle Club, so nice for
horses, you know. to the censor
of the SHOWME, who is somehow
still alive after all these years . .
and most of all to the people who
invented alcohol, because they
must have been thinking of us
students when they did it.
And to my cat Fred, who has
been developing a nervous twitch
ever since I came in last night
and tried to put him in the wash-
ing machine.
S. . happy final week.
Richard Bollinger Noel
9
Skip Troelstrup-
or return to
abnormality
Showme
OLD CARTOONISTS never die, they
just fade. And once in a
while, disappearing ink comes to
light in the heat of another day.
This is the day.
Professional students, old pro-
fessors and others among us who
just never could find Highway 40
into St. Louis remember SHOW-
ME'S fair-haired boy of another
era, Skip Troelstrup.
Skip, whose real name is Glenn,
idled around 302 Read Hall back
in the reign of Charlie Barnard,
Jerry Smith, and other people
you never heard of. (He was a
senior in high school when Mort
Walker was editor.)
This very convincing liar was
born on a tramp steamer between
Canton and Chungking, of a
White Russian virgin. All the
while, a band of Chinese coolies
were playing German folk-songs,
and all this had a rather poor
nsvchological effect on the kid.
Anyhow, his mother was self-
conscious about him, and gave
him away.
Skip was in the air force for
five glorious years, and this is
known as his blue period.
He never forgot the love of his
life, drawing nasty pitchers, and
practiced at night while working
with Armed Forces Radio in the
Philippines . . . contributed spare
time to Stars and Stripes.
Then he transferred to Japan
and joined the SS staff so he
could look for his mother. In his
spare time, he drew and wrote
and "things like that "as cartoon
editor and feature writer in Japan
and in Korea.
His cartoons have appeared in
Cavalier, Look, New York Times
Magazine, Varsity, College Hum-
or, and in some other books col-
lections that are hard to identify.
This is his fifth year as a second
semester junior in the School of
Journalism, majoring in News.
"Any girl who'd be seen with me-I wouldn't be seen with!"
11
17 Brentwood Drive
by Jack Duncan
T WAS DARK NOW. Because the sky was overcast,
it had seemed afternoon all day. He tipped the
cab driver a quarter and swung the laundry bag to
his shoulder with the suitcase in his right hand. The
taxi made muffled sounds against the street as it
pulled away, and it spun bits of cold, caked snow
against his legs and exposed ankles. His low shoes
filled with the new snow before he came halfway
to the house. A scar of a path on it's way to the
garage disfigured the circle of light cast from the
big front window on snow too soft to sparkle.
He swung the suitcase against the door three
times, heavily, and tossed it into the arms of the
sandy complexioned young man who answered.
"Happy New Year, workin' man! How are ya
Carl? I came to sponge a holiday off you. Brought
a toy for your little brat too!" An almost painful
grin contorted his face.
"Dan! Come in! Hide the food Virginia, your
kid brother is back from college!" As if with those
words he had fulfilled an obligation to display his
friendship perversely, Carl smiled and extended
his hand. His smile was sufficient, too easy, and it
vanished too quickly when the occasion for a smile
was past. In his face flickered an old hostility
compounded of envy, fear of the contrast between
Dan and himself, certain knowledge that his in-
feriorities would be impressed upon him again and
again-all these so far behind his eyes that they
were almost without validity as emotions.
They shook hands. It's still the same, Dan
thought. To Hell with him. He pushed through the
door.
"Where's Virginia? Where is that lazy haus-
frau? There you are, jeez you're skinny! It's a
good thing someone in this family inherited that
Irish beauty!" He ran both hands through his
dark, heavy locks and feigned a frown at the
laughing girl, who was not at all skinny. Suddenly
he whirled, stretched out his arms and bellowed at
the tiny eye and the blond curls peeking through
a crack in a bedroom door.
"Joanie! Come to Uncle!"
A small frenzy burst through the door and
into his arms. He whirled the squealing tot aloft
and skipped hilariously in a circle.
"Hey ho Baby! Uh uh, let Uncle Dan say it!"
He put a finger to the child's lips. "You got on your
pink pajamas with the rabbit on 'em and the built-in
feet and the flap behind and now what you got left
to say?"
Confronted with their laughter, Joanie assumed
a solemn, betrayed look. She inspected her lower
lip with a dumpy finger. "Got my peejays on,"
she ventured at last.
"This kid has a one-track vocabulary. Are you
just getting in from work, Carl? Why the hat and
coat?"
"I work tonight, Dan. Flock of insurance policys
to process. I should be back by ten."
Virginia said, "Why not let Dan drive you to
the office? I want to go to Carol's tonight."
"Oh no." Carl grinned and shook his head.
"No, I don't trust you with the car. The streets are
too slippery anyway. I'll take the car with me."
Showme
"All right damn you!" Virginia yelled sudden-
ly, viciously. The child twitched, and watched both
parents with wide eyes. "All right! Just see if I
iron your damn shirts!"
Carl bowed in acquiescence, "Suits me," he
said, "I've ironed my own clothes before."
As Carl left, Virginia flung herself to the
couch and hurled a magazine across the room.
She shuddered, inarticulate, for the moment, with
fury.
"Oh I hate that man! All he does is work, work,
work and when he isn't working he sits around and
listens to that lousy hi-fi! He never takes me out.
He just sits! Like a snail or a log or something! And
when I want to take the car and go out it's no I
don't trust you!"
Dan carried the tot to her room and tucked
her into the crib. He returned, shutting the door,
and selected a phonograph record from a rack at the
end of the couch. It was Montavani's Greensleeves;
it was dusky rooms and candles and the firm curve
of one woman's cheek; it was something closer to
the reality that Dan desired-knew reality to be-
than this angry sister on the couch distorting her
striking, black-waved beauty with a scowl. Re-
garding her as from a great distance, Dan thought,
My sister is beautiful. After a child she still is
actually beautiful.
"I remember the time you broke out his wind-
shield with a hammer," he said. "No wonder he
doesn't trust you."
"Well he deserved it! I hope you remember
how he treated me when I was carrying Joanie!"
She chanted through her teeth like an incantation:
"He is the most despisable man I know!"
Dan flopped back in a chair within easy reach
of the phonograph. "It's despica-
ble," he murmered, "Not despisa-
ble." Virginia cursed.
"How do you two get along
now?" he asked.
"Oh, he won't take me out, and
he doesn't like my friends, and he
gripes when I spend money-like
last month when I bought a back-
yard swing for Joanie." Her rage
had abated.
"Is she big enough for one of
those things? Joanie's about two
years old now, isn't she?"
"She was born in February,
that makes her almost twenty-
two months. She was two months
premature."
You almost believe that, he
thought tiredly. Don't you think
I realize why he hated you so at
first?
The music filled a long silence
and died away. With a comforta-
ble click and a whir, the phono-
graph arm shifted to return him
to candlelit rooms. He switched
off the machine.
"I'll call Carol," Virginia said. "I'm supposed
to go to a party tonight at her house. There's a law
student she and Al want me to meet. Why don't
you go too? If you're there, Carl will know I'm
behaving myself."
"If this is one of those parties where you forget
you're somebody's wife, the hell with it. I won't
degrade myself by lying for you. I won't take your
side against Carl."
"Oh don't preach! It's nothing like that. Be-
sides, you aren't going to stand up for him, are you?
You know how he-"
"Okay, okay all right! I'll go!"
"Good. I think Carol likes you, anyway. She
keeps talking about my handsome brother."
"So what am I supposed to do?"
"Now stop sulking. I'll call and tell her to come
and get us. I already asked this Nancy next door
to keep the baby. She owes me a favor." She dialed.
"Ask Carol do I bring my own bottle," Dan said.
"She says you can drink theirs, they have a
fifth of Ballantine something and some eggnog."
"That isn't enough. Tell her I'll bring my own."
In spite of their objections, he bought a flat
pint at a neighborhood package store on a corner
between sub-developments. The bottle, he thought
sourly, allowed him to assert his independence by
drinking his own liquor, and by insisting on buying
it he altered, if only in detail, a chain of events over
which he had relinquished control.
Carol's hair was blond now. It was cut just
below the ears, and it went well with her turned-up
nose. And, as usual, Carol was driving recklessly,
full of talk, and ready with flippant profanities that
made Dan's skin crawl.
"-Supply Corps for three years. He was a
(Continued on page 30)
Showme
"That Ivy League look."
Tired of going to the moviers? Tired of playing chess in
the Union? Tired? There really are things to do in this
fair city, for sure The people in these photos demonstrate
Columbia
After Dark
Traditional . girls. Girl-watching at the Town House, oops,
Towne House is fun, and gratifying, since the girls are boy-
watching.
Another type of girl-
watching, restricted, how-
ever to young men who
own sneakers and dark
clothes. The object here
is not to have the girls
v.atch back.
For the more energetic ed or co-ed who prefers skates to
sneakers, Columbia's hidden ponds obligingly freeze once or
twice every winter. The young lady on the ice didn't fall-she
just came to the surface after studying undersea life for a
semester.
Missouri's overflow enrollment
induced the legislature to appro-
priate funds for this lovely, air-
conditioned annex to the library.
COLUMBIA
AFTER
DARK
This is where you'd be "proud to bring
your dad or sister." Couldn't find dad,
but sister's doing alright. This is an in-
door sport, invigorating and challenging.
Any bets on this shot?
Eartha Kitt may sing of the Bridges of
Paris. Really, it's what you do with what
you've got. The boy on the bridge? Lost
a nickel.
There's one in every crowd, or something.
This young man is watching the clock
anxiously, because he put a time bomb in
the trunk of his grandmother's car. Insur-
ance? Heaven's! He just wants the fender
for his hot-rod.
The city-bred student has sophisticated
tastes, and likes to spend a gay evening, now
and then, in one of Columbia's centers of
bright night life.
Studying.
A Play-by-Play From Eden Gardens
ADAM'S APPLE
An on the spot report from the
world's first radio station,
KAYEFF. A REYEW?
Mayhem: Good afternoon sports
fans. It's a lush, tropical kind
of a day here at Eden Gardens.
Temperature in the high seven-
ties . . Real shirt sleeve weath-
er isn't it Sport?
Sporty: B ut Mayhem - Shirts
haven't been invented yet!
Mayhem: Thanks, Sporty, but
there is a colorful crowd. We'll
see if we can pick some of the
excitement up for you on the
mike, folks.
Sporty: Mayhem, I believe that's
Eve just coming out of the
undergrowth.
Mayhem: That's right, Sport. I
don't seem to be able to find
her number on the program.
Sporty: She's a freshman, May-
hem . . . a .trim 115-pounder
from . . oops! . . . don't seem to
have her home town.
Mayhem: We'll have it for you in
just a moment, folks.
Sporty: She's out of this world,
Mayhem.
Mayhem: Think you're wrong
there, Sport. Dawn doesn't
recruit out of state.
Sporty: You know Mayhem, Eve
looks in pretty good shape. As
I keep telling my boys . . that
old conditioning .
Mayhem: Uh! . . . you're right,
Sporty. Fans, before Adam
comes out into the Arena,
there's something I think you
all should hear.
18
Announcer: Hi! . . . you know,
folks, the tropical weight fig-
leaf season is already on us.
Torn-Clothing, your sponsor
this afternoon is justly proud of
its Sani-Foamed care of your
soiled fig-leafs. So why not
pick up your nearest carrier
pigeon and point it towards
Torn-Clothing. That's T-O-R-N,
where your fig-leaf gets that
extra special treatment . . .
starched or plain, it's all the
same to Torn-Clothing. And
now back to Eden Gardens
where Mayhem has just brok-
en out.
Sporty: What happened May-
hem?
Mayhem: I just broke out, Sport.
(Got carried away there for a
moment.)
Sporty: Ha! Ha! . . thought I was
going to have to go this one
alone, Mayhem.
Mayhem: Well, sports fans, we're
just about ready to go here at
Eden Gardens. Adam is just
a little way to our left, on the
south side of the arena.
Sporty: That's t he Heavenly
Acres Glee Club singing "Dix-
ie", Mayhem.
Mayhem: Right you are, Sport.
Eve of course is to our right at
the North end of the field. Eve
appears to be very well com-
posed . . . this might surprise
you fans because at game time
she was rated a slight under-
dog. Both of the combatants
are wearing their traditional
fig-leafs . . . Eve in white with
maroon trimming, and Adam in
black with gold poker dots.
Fans, before we begin, I think
I should explain that this is an
entirely new kind of game.
Sporty: It's never been played
before, Mayhem.
Mayhem: And so keep tuned,
fans, and we'll do our best to
bring you every play as it actu-
ally happens. This of course is
the Missouri Sports Nitwit . .
you out of state listeners will
have to forgive us if we seem
a little partisan, but Adam is
wearing the colors of our old
alma mater . . . An', well we
wish him the best of luck.
Adam certainly appears up for
this game, Sporty.
Sporty: Play's just about to get
underway, Mayhem.
Mayhem: Thanks, Sport. Ladies
and Gentlemen . Eve has won
the toss and she's elected to
receive.
Sporty: Adam's going to start
from his own tree, Mayhem.
Mayhem: Check the tree, Sporty.
Sporty: A hundred year old Red-
wood from California, Mayhem.
Mayhem: Adam's out of his hud-
dle now. He seems to be sizing
Eve up, although as yet he
hasn't called for a measurement.
A hush falls over the Gardens
S . . Adam's looking over his
field . . . he's standing on one
leg.
Sporty: Unbalanced line, May-
hem.
Mayhem: That's right Sport. Now
there's the snap from center!
Sporty: Could hear it from here,
Mayhem.
Mayhem: Adam's off and running
with the play. He's trying to
skirt Eve's left end. Adam is
closing the gap . . . I think he's
going to throw her for a loss
sport. Eve's been thrown for
a loss, but she recovered on
the play.
Sporty: She's using a sinking de-
fense on him, Mayhem.
Mayhem: Right, Sporty. Adam's
really rushing now . . . he's
churning up the yardage, but
Eve still has too much speed
in the backfield.
Sporty: Now if I was coaching,
Mayhem, I'd have Adam slow
the play down and make Eve
come out to him . . .
Mayhem: Eve cuts away to her
right side . . . holy cow! . . . she
almost faked Adam right out
of his fig-leaf . . . but Adam's
not to be denied, fans . . . boy!
. he diagnosed that one nice-
ly . it looks as though he has
Eve in full-court press . . . but
wait a minute! . . . a handker-
chief has been thrown in Ad-
am's backfield.
Sporty: I counted two handker-
chiefs, Mayhem.
Mayhem: Right, Sport. Yes,
there's going to be a penalty
on the play!
Sporty: It's for offensive holding,
Mayhem.
Mayhem: But what's this, Sport?
Time has been called, fans, and
the two coaches are coming on-
to the field.
Sporty: That's Dawn there in the
snakeskin, Mayhem, and Coach
Gabriel is coming out to talk
with Adam.
Mayhem: That was the first in-
fringement, fans, and I think
this speaks well for Adam. In
a game such as this one things
can happen awfully fast in the
heat of the moment.
Sporty: The referee is polishing
up the apple, Mayhem.
Malhem: So he is. You know,
Sporty, you've really got to
hand it to this boy Adam. Re-
member when everyone said
he'd never play again after he
had a rib removed earlier this
year.
Sporty: I agree, Mayhem, and you
can't take anything away from
Eve either Mayhem: No, she's
really been working in there
quite well this afternoon, Sport.
Sporty: The coaches are leaving
the field, Mayhem.
Mayhem: Well, fans, we'll wait
and see what happens now.
Eve's ground game has been
befuddling Adam all afternoon,
and it will be interesting to see
what new tactics he will use.
Oh! Ho! . . . Eve is holding out
the apple, folks, Adam inches
up close and gets a small bite
out of it, but it doesn't look as
though he's got enough for a
first down.
Sporty: They are calling for a
measurement, Mayhem.
Mayhem: It's going to be very
close . . . too bad! . . . Adam is
short of a down by about two
teeth marks. At this point, fans,
I'd say that it was anybody's
ball game.
Sporty: Eve seems to be tiring a
little, Mayhem.
Mayhem: She sure is, Sport. Ad-
am is rushing Eve real hard,
and the heat seems to be wear-
ing her down a little too . . .
she is trying to reverse her
field, but I think Adam has her
cornered . . . no! . . . she has
completely reversed to the left
side, and this time Adam is
really and truly faked out of his
Tearaway fig-leaf.
Sporty: Adam's calling for a new
one from the sidelines, Mayhem.
Mayhem: And there goes the gun,
fans, to end the half. Sport?
Sporty: Well, Mayhem, this game
sure is surprising the heck out
of me. I thought Adam would
have caught Eve by now, but
the boy Adam is really finding
it hard to cope with her de-
ception. Coach Gabrial told me
before the game how Adam was
really pointing for this one.
Mayhem: I thought she ran those
option plays very well too,
Sport.
Sporty: Yes she did. I see they
are already coming back onto
the field, Mayhem. I guess Ad-
am wants to get this game over
with as quickly as possible.
Mayhem: The coaches have fin-
ished their pep talks, and I
expect to see Adam come back
strongly, although I'd like to
(Continued on page 32)
Campus
Jewelry
"OH THE WONDER
OF IT ALL"
by ECAT
UNIVERSITY BOOK
STORE
Charles Mar Pictures
17 BRENTWOOD DRIVE
(Continued from page 13)
captain or something, and he
knows more about sex than any
man I ever saw! He says it's his
hobby and I believe him all right."
Dan said, "You drunk, Carol?"
Carol tittered. "I'm not drunk,
Danny Hon, but we all started
early, waiting for Virginia's damn
husband to go to work, and I'm
two or three drinks ahead."
"Dan said, "I'll catch up with
you." He took a long, brutal pull
at the bottle. The liquor warmed
his insides like a hot, needle-spray
shower, and by the time they ar-
rived it had planted a smile on
his face.
The house was a ranch-style
suburban like a thousand others
in the city. A television set dom-
inated the living room. A phono-
graph in a corner somewhere
played a foxtrot, and three men
and a woman stood, sat and talked
in a uniform state of alcoholic
gaiety. Carol introduced them.
"Virginia and her brother Dan,
this is Wayne and Shirley, you
know Al, and this is Earl. I told
you about him."
Earl's hand was soft. He was a
heavy-set, decaying youth near-
ing thirty, with thin, pale hair
receding above the temples. He
leered at Virginia. "Whatever she
tells you, it's true."
Al said, "How do you know so
much to tell about Earl, wife?"
Laughter.
"What the hell did you bring a
bottle for, Dan?" Al said. "There's
plenty of liquor here."
"Oh, he's stubborn," said Carol,
"He wanted his own."
"Man ain't nothin' if he don't
drink out of his own bottle.
Where's the eggnog?"
Someone said, "Let's have a
Charleston. Shirley, show 'em
your Charleston." Dan went into
the kitchen and mixed a drink.
The party progressed well.
Virginia and Earl paired off im-
mediately, making Dan the only
stag, so Dan concentrated on re-
ducing his consciousness to a
happy sphere. Beyond a peri-
phery extending now three feet,
now a dozen, all else gradually
became a somber, green haze pop-
ulated by voices.
After a time Al and Wayne
grew increasingly maudlin about
their military days and began to
neglect the women, so Dan danced
with Shirley and Carol. Shirley
was a tall, pouting blond who
swung her bent - at - the - elbow
arms, when she danced, like a
fighting rooster. Dan kept step-
ping on her feet. After a jitter-
bug he said, "Thanks," and took
his empty glass into the kitchen.
Carol was there. From the liv-
ing room he heard Al's imperfect
baritone lead the party in a re-
vival song. Carol turned from
filling her glass with ice cubes
at the sink and smiled at him.
Now. Do what is expected, he
thought. He crossed the tiny room
and pulled her warm body to him.
It was a long kiss. He leaned into
the sink to keep his balance. Carol
stopped caressing his hair at last,
pulled his ear and moved her face
away from his.
"Danny boy," she whispered,
"I didn't know you."
"You know me now," he said
huskily.
"Somebody might see us." They
met again for a short, fierce mo-
ment. Then Carol stood at arms
length, whispered, "Wipe your
mouth Hon," and was gone. A
moment later her voice, sounding
much too effeminate, blended into
the earthy hymn.
He muttered, "Pig!," leaning on
the sink, and splashed his lips
with water from the melting ice.
A little later the party began
to deteriorate. Al told a story
about the Pacific war and brought
out an old Samurai sword. Wayne
announced that no such weapon
could be returned to it's sheath
until it had tasted blood; so in
the process of upholding tradi-
tion he sliced open the palm of
his left hand and baptized the
blade thoroughly. There was
some confusion until Al and the
victim managed, between them,
to apply a bandage.
Wayne had another drink with
his hand swathed in gauze, but
the bleeding failed to stop com-
pletely. Wayne and Shirley de-
parted. Dan remembered with a
mild curiosity that he did not
know whether or not they were
married. It did not matter.
In a little while Earl began to
make polite farewells. As Dan
walked out into the snow swing-
ing his almost-empty bottle, Carol
pressed his arm surreptitiously
and put a double meaning into
her goodby. Dan did not look
back.
It was snowing again. Flakes
began to pile up around the wind-
shield wipers, leaving wedge-
shaped ports. Earl drove slowly,
nervously, and took unnecessary
time at the stoplights.
Dan thought, You Cruds. I
won't make it easy.
Virginia said, "Do you want
to go anywhere, Dan?"
"Take me to your house." Say
it. Say all of it.
"We can't do that; Carl's home."
"So what?"
"Well, I'm going to Earl's place
for a drink. I'll just be half-an-
hour or so."
"Oh hell yes, a half-hour. And
you expect me to stay all night
in a bus station or a hash house.
No." Dan's hand tightened on the
neck of the bottle. Say the wrong
thing, he thought. Please, please
Earl you punk, say something
wrong.
Virginia said, "Well you've got
to say you were with me, that's
my alibi." She twisted her hands
impatiently together.
"Damn your alibi! I told you
not to mess me up with anything
like this! You've used me for the
last time, Virginia. I went to a
movie tonight. I haven't seen
you." He could almost see her
probing in her mind, with no
emotion but a sense of urgency,
seeking the combination of half-
truth and lies that would sway
him.
She said, "Are you on, Carl's
side now?"
"No I'm not. He's no better
than you."
"Well don't go in there drunk
and tell him I went off with some-
one! We'll just have a drink, like
I said, then I'll go home."
"I'm not drunk. I went to a
movie. All right, let me out here.
This is close enough."
He watched the car go out of
sight into the snowfall. He was
warm. When the bottle in his
(Continued on page 27)
DORN CLONEY
CLEANERS
COLLINS
The Cowboy
and
The Lady
3 Days Out
by
ECA. Thompson
Showme
"ATTENTION, PLEASE, attention please. A lost pas-
senger: Master Robert Edward Murtland Jr.,
age six. Master Murtland was last seen near the
shuffleboard court on 'C' deck about one hour
ago. The boy is wearing brown corduroy, bibbed
trousers and a tan, brown and yellow striped polo-
shirt. If anyone should see this passenger please in-
form a steward immediately or call Mr. and Mrs.
R. E. Murtland, cabin 1607, 'B' deck. There will
be mixed hula lessons again this morning in 'A' deck
Recreation Room at eleven o'clock. Miss George-
anne Tanner, please call the swimming pool, 'A'
deck. Thank you . calling Steward Honner, Cabin
Steward Honner . . .report to Bursar's office im-
mediately."
The lost passenger stood in the middle of "A"
deck where the parlor, and stateroom class passen-
gers were, for the most part, still abed, or just begin-
ning to enjoy a leisurely breakfast. He always stop-
ped stockstill when there was an announcement
being made over the fascinating loudspeaker system.
The big white horns were everywhere and they
would say "Attention! Attention!" and when they
were through everyone would hurry away to do
what they had said. This had been the first time
they had said his name, and he stood, his head cock-
ed a little to one side looking up at the big white
horn fastened to the side of the ship. He was think-
ing so hard about whether or not it was a good
thing to hear his name come out of the horns that
his entire face was twisted into a squint. He also
didn't notice the young woman who had stopped
quietly behind him, and smiled at the back of his
unruly brown hair.
"Hi! buddy." The boy jumped at the nearness
of the voice and noticed first the long shadow of the
young woman.
"Golly, dear, I didn't mean to scare you." She
knelt beside the indignant little fellow, who clutched
a pee-wee sized football tightly to his chest. The
white terry cloth robe the woman wore fell open
when she knelt, revealing a brief Aztec print bathing
suit.
She was awfully tall, Robert thought, looking at
the long suntanned fingers, with their sparkling red
enameled tips, that held his arms so gently. The
places underneath her hands were warm. She was
taller than his mother and prettier than anyone,
thought Robert. Prettier than Saint Mary Mother
with the candles in their church. The woman's hair
looked soft like some special smooth, brown-gold
cloth, and it would blow gently, the breeze making it
seem to be breathing in time with the woman's
stomach which moved in and out just slightly while
she knelt balanced on white, high-heeled sandals.
"Now I've made you mad at me," she said. Her
eyes bounced when she smiled, and Robert was
fascinated by the black, lashes that framed them like
tiny spears, and swept up in little bird's wings at the
corners.
The lady pouted her bottom lip at Robert and
where the red stopped it was pink. "You're not
really going to stay mad at me are you? I really
didn't mean to sneak up on you, you know. But, you
see I wanted to get a look at your football there. It's
a real fine football, isn't it?" Robert tightened his
arms around the pee-wee sized football he was
clutching to his stomach, and didn't answer. But he
was deciding not to be mad anymore.
"I'll bet you're going to be a great big football
player someday, aren't you?"
"Hunh uh." Her breath smelled warm and
made Robert feel strange, and he pulled away from
the pretty lady, and turned and skipped to the ship's
rail, keeping, always, his left foot in front of his
right. The lady stood up, the robe closing again over
her long, tan legs and moved to the boy's side at the
rail.
"Well gee, what do you want to be when you
grow up?"
"Cowboy." Robert rested his chin on one of the
white, steel supports that held the varnished wood
railing which cleared the top of his head by nearly
half a foot.
"Is that a fact? You know, when I was a little
girl, I wanted to be a football player, and score a
million touchdowns."
Robert jerked a quick look up at the young
woman bending over the rail, resting easily on her
elbows. She crossed her legs and they made a soft
swishy sound against the cloth of her robe close to
his ear.
"Ahh, girls always get hurt. Girls cry."
"You know, I kind of figured you didn't like
girls."
"Girls cry."
"We are a pretty disappointing lot, I suppose.
I'd much rather be a boy. Boys can grow up to be
all kinds of wonderful things. I don't blame you at
all for not liking girls."
"Yep." A gull swooped below the horizon.
"Pow! Pow!" He had whipped out a pair of imagin-
ary revolvers faster than the eye could follow. Pow!
Pow!" The gull dipped, winged over and dove for
an unseen tid-bit floating on the
waves. The woman picked up the
little football before it rolled over
the side into the ocean, and Rob-
ert grinned crookedly, like Wild
Bill, and holstered his smoking
guns.
"That's pretty good shooting.
Where'd you get him?"
He shrugged his square little
shoulders, the bird already for-
gotten. "What's your name?"
"Why-uh, my name is Georgia.
It's Georgeanne, but you can call
me Georgie. I'll bet your name
is Robert."
"You're pretty."
"Why! Thank you. But I'd still
rather be a boy like you. They're
best."
"Yep."
"I'll bet the reason you won't
tell me your name is because
you're after some crooks, and
have to keep yourself secret. Is
that it?"
"Nahh."
"Well, I guess you couldn't tell
me even that if you were staying secret. But you
don't think I'd tell anyone, do you? I mean we're
sort of friends, aren't we?"
"My name's Robert an' my name's on the white
horns like on the radio."
"Why sure! That's where I heard it. You must
be somebody pretty important to have them call
your name all over the ship."
"Nahh-I runned off." He leaned out over the
water and spit carefully into the ocean.
"Robert, do you know what?"
"What?"
"I think Robert's going to be my favorite
name."
"Umm."' He turned over. The safety rail was
in the small of his back and he leaned out, looking
up at the sky. He looked at her from the ocean
side of the rail. "Your husdbun got a big belly."
"My what?"
"Your husdbun got a big belly!"
"Husband? . . . Oh! sure. I know you and your
mother were at the pool yesterday."' She smiled.
Mr. Dodge did have a large stomach. A very large
and replusive stomach. "Why did you run off,
Robert?"
"Ahh, my daddy made me give 'im my guns
and mommy got mad an' the colored man with the
pretty cap took me to the teacher lady back there,"
he pointed to the fantail of the ship where there
were shuffleboard courts and the swimming pool.
He had run out of one of the ring-round the rosey
circles and the lady in charge hadn't even missed
him until the other children had told her.
The traditional party the second night out had
gotten the better of Robert's father; and when
Robert attacked from behind the bureau at seven
a.m. with both cap pistols blazing, it was with some
"Of course we can't be positive, But from what we know of
the previous inhabitants, I think we can safely assume a phallic
significance."
26 "Oh Walter tell me that we haven't shattered the magic of it
all!"
17 BRENTWOOD DRIVE
(Continued from page 23)
hand began to chill he started
walking, and he found that he
was drunk after all. The snow
was clean and dry and it squeaked
beneath his feet, somewhere far
below.
He pushed the door shut and
leaned unsteadily against it. His
suitcase and laundry bag were on
the floor where he had left them.
Carl called from the bedroom,
"Is that you, Virginia?"
"No. It's me."
"Where's Virginia?"
"I don't know where Virginia
is. I went to a movie." Dan
picked up the laundry bag and
fumbled at the suitcase handle
with the bottle in his hand. He
was backing awkwardly out of
the house when Carl appeared in
pajamas with shock in his face.
"Are you leaving?"
Dan stood very straight in the
doorway with the snow falling
around his shoes. He felt that he
needed a shower.
Carl said, "Where are you go-
ing?"
He did not want to speak to
Carl. The fool, he thought. The
damned fool.
Dan turned away and stepped
out into the yard. The bottle and
the suitcase slipped from his awk-
ward grasp. He bent for the bot-
tle and shook it. Liquor splashed.
He hurled the bottle with all his
strength into the whiteness. Not
heavy enough, he thought. He
lifted the suitcase, bent his head
to keep falling snow out of his
eyes and trudged away from the
window-light. There was a filling
station down the road. There
would be a telephone.
THE END
Motherhood is the necessity for
convention.
Visitor: Why does your Grand-
ma just sit there and read the
Bible all day?
Little Boy: I think she's cram-
ming for the final.
Mal: It says here that in Cali-
fornia last year they grew about
2,449,000 tons of grapes.
Hal: Drink up, man they're
gaining on us.
Newman's Jewelry
ANDY'S CORNER
KING COLE
DRIVE-IN
"I think he's been drinking again!"
Showme
Brady's
" . No, Fred, I think you're wrong. I think he likes YOU
better."
Missouri Store Co.
Uptown
PARSON'S
SHOE SHOP
Charles Mar Pictures
Showme
Shears Department
Store
COWBOY AND LADY
(Continued from page 25)
anger that his father had relieved
Robert of his weapons, and "God-
damned," and "By-Goded," such
goings on until Robert's mother
sent him away with the steward
so she might freely express her
opinions on, "Damn fools who
think they're Cary Grant, the
minute they set foot on the deck
of a ship."
"My gran'pa got a big belly
too. My gran'pa laughs a lot. Why
don' your husdbun laugh?" The
little boy clutched the top of the
safety screen, and held his quart-
er-sized football between his feet.
"Well . . . You see, Robert, his
name is Boris. Is'nt that really
a terrible name, though?"
"Ummhm."
"And he's got lots and lots of
money to spend for anything in
the world that he wants. Robert,
he has so much money he could
buy this ship even, just to play
with."
"Is he?"
"Is he what, Robert?"
"Is he going to buy it?"
"No, I don't think he is. But
you can believe me, he could if
he wanted to."
"An' could he buy the isling
where the ship stops?"
"Yes . . . I imagine he could
even buy Hawaii, if he really
wanted it."
"An' could he buy the whole
world from God?"
"He tries, Robert. He really
tries to. He's like a nasty little
boy who cries and screams until
he can get a new toy. But, then
he doesn't like to play with it,
and he either breaks it or throws
it away. He wants to own all the
toys that there are, Robert. He
doesn't want anyone else to have
any, because he's afraid they'll
have more fun than he will."
"I got a pony, an' I'm going to
keep it ever an' ever."
"I'll bet it's a nice pony."
"Sure. He eats hay. He can't
get my pony."
She looked at the intense, up-
turned face of the boy and
touched his head softly. The boy's
hair was the same color of brown
as her own. He turned from her
and stretched one leg up to the
(Continued on page 36)
"I knew our boy would get ahead!"
Swami's
Snorts
A Theater usher was astonished'
to see a big brown bear sitting in
the back row munching peanuts.
"Hey," he whispered, "Where'd
you get the peanuts? I thought
the machine was broken."
"Do you know what time it is,"
asked the Psych, Prof.
"Sure," replied the student.
"Thanks," said the Prof.
"Why do you sing in the bath
tub?"
"The door won't lock."
Don carried the following note
to the teacher the morning follow-
ing his absence: "Please excuse
Don for being absent from school
yesterday. He had a new baby
brother. It wasn't his fault."
"Did you hear about the one
fingered pick-pocket who only
stole life-savers?"
His wife, determined to cure
him of his evil ways with the aid
of a sheet and an electric torch,
transformed herself into a fair
resemblance of a ghost. She went
in and shook the drunkard.
"Wash that?" murmured the
toper.
"This is the Devil," came an an-
swer in sephlchral tones.
"Shake hands, old horsh, I mar-
ried your sister."
* * *
Mother: You were a very tidy
boy today not to throw your
orange peel on the floor of the
bus. Where did you put it?"
Boy: "In the pocket of the man
next to me."
Don't you know that crime does
not pay?" asked the judge.
"I know," replied the thief, "but
the hours are good."
Dr. Lugg asked Sam who
signed the Declaration of Inde-
pendence.
"I don't know and I don't care,"
came the reply.
Dr. Lugg called the student's
father to his office and told him
what had happened.
The father frowned and turned
to Sam, "Damn it, if you signed
it, admit it!"
* * *
The little moron's watch had
stopped and he tried to find the
trouble. Finally he took the back
off it, went into the works, and
found a dead bedbug.
"No wonder it doesn't work,"
he mused. "The engineer's dead."
Bill put down his drink and
mopped his eyes with a bar rag.
"L'il children are all right," he
said. "I was a l'il bady myself
once. A l'il, l'il baby. Why when
I was born I only weighed two
pounds and a half."
Consternation spread over Pal
Freddy. "Only two pounds and
a half. Didja live?"
"Oh, boy," crowed Bill, "you
oughta see me now!"
SUZIE STEPHEN'S -
by ECAT
"He DID say something about LOOK magazine, didn't he 31
dahling?"
Showme
Edgeworth
Tobacco
ADAMS APPLE
(Continued from page 19)
see him maintain possession of
the apple a little more.
Sporty: I noticed that Eve's been
shifting her line well, Mayhem.
Adam doesn't seem to know
which one to fall for.
Mayhem: Well, we're ready to go
again, Sport. Fans, Eve has the
apple, but Adam's closing in
fast. Oops!, there's a pile-up
on the play . . . but hold on a
minute . . . the referee has
blown his whistle . . . there's
going to be a penalty I believe
. for unsportsmanlike conduct
against Adam.
Sporty: Adam is being forced
back fifteen yards, Mayhem.
But I think it was for illegal
use of the hands . . . or maybe
it was clipping.
Mayhem: But you've got to give
it to this boy, Sport. Sure .
he got a little fired up then . .
I don't know what Gabriel told
him at the half, but we are cer-
tainly seeing a new Adam.
Sporty: The apple's back in play,
Mayhem.
Mayhem: Watch that boy Adam
go . . . he's certainly making up
for all the yardage he lost in
that first half . . . I expect to
see a desperation pass from Eve
right about here . . . she's jugg-
ling the apple . . .and that old
clock is still ticking away .
Sporty: They'll be talking about
this game for centuries, May-
hem.
Mayhem: That they will. Play's
being held up . . . No! No! .
it's Eve who's being held up
. .just seconds left to go in
the game . . . Eve's still toying
with that apple . . . but Adam
is right beside her . . . one
second to go . . . and fans .
Adam has intercepted!!
Sporty: It's Adam's apple, May-
hem.
THE BEGINNING
Women are like street-cars,
ther's one going by every fifteen-
minutes; accept after midnight.
Then they aren't as frequent, but
.are a hell of a lot more accom-
modating.
MODERNE '56
betty rae pheil
gamma phi beta
Showme
Missouri
Showme
DANIEL BOONE
hotel
COFFEE
SHOP
ROMANOS
R OMANOS BOWL
Showme
COWBOY AND LADY
(Continued from page 30)
top of the safety screen. He liked
her to touch his head that way.
"No, dear, he'll never get your
pony. If he could get something
like that he could stop hunting
all over for something to take
the pony's place. I'll bet it would
be fun to be your pony, Robert."
"I got a dog, and a rabbit, and
a tent too." But, the pretty wom-
an who said he could call her
Georgie wasn't looking at him,
and her hand had ceased its
gentle stroking and rested quietly
on the top of his head. The foot-
ball rolled loose on the deck, and
when the ship leaned, it wobbled
erratically toward a bright red,
fat man that rushed toward them,
his bath robe flapped around his
fat hairless legs that were greasy
with suntan lotion.
"Georgie! What the hell do you
think you're doing? I've been
waiting at the god-damn pool for
over an hour. By-God! I've had
about enough of this . . this cheap
crap from you!
"Boris! please, the boy."
"The devil with the boy. It
was your idea to go swimming.
I wasn't the one who wanted to
'hop out of bed and take an in-
vigorating morning plunge,' that
was your god-damn idea."
"Boris for the sake of decency!"
"Whose brat is he anyway?"
"He's lost. His name is Robert."
She turned to the boy and knelt
down beside him. "Robert, don't
you think you should go back to
your parents now? We'll go find
one of the stewards and-"
"Oh! for Christsake! Come on
sister, you've had your invigorat-
ing plunge as far as I'm con-
cerned." He grabbed her roughly
by the arm.
"Stop it! You're hurting me!
Boris, you're hurting me!"
"You listen to me, and you
listen good, Miss prissy-pants.
I'm fed up with this sudden pure-
as-the-driven snow stuff. You're
damn right I'm hurting you. I'll
bust your beautiful rump if I like.
I haven't forgotten where you
came from-showing it off for
seventy-five a week. I cover it
with three hundred bucks worth
of tweed, and all of the sudden
(Continued on page 39)
All right darling tell daddy where you keep your Vodka. Daddy's
all out and the guests are beginning to get restless.
MIZZOU
BOWL
"Harold loves me for my brain and Jim goes for
what's left."
LAUGH BOOK FROM ILLINI SHAFT
"Well--outside of that, how do you like it?"
Stuff
Showme
The Syracusan -
"But first, a word from our sponsor ."
COWBOY AND LADY
(Continued from page 36 )
you're respectable. Get up!" He
pulled her away from the boy,
and to her feet. The fat sausage
fingers squeezed into her arm,
and he held her so roughly that
one of her shoulders was higher
than the other. She didn't strug-
gle, and she wasn't crying. She
couldn't let herself cry. She could
hear Master Robert saying 'Girls
cry'. She tottered awkwardly
along beside the fat man. Her
robe whipped away from her pret-
ty, long legs, and her high heels
made it impossible for her to
match Boris' angry strides.
Robert stood straddle-legged on
the scrubbed oak of the ship's
deck. Quick as lightening he
made his move. He crouched-
and from the hip-"Pow! Pow!
Pow!" all three of the bullets
smacked into the bright, red, fat
of Boris' sunburned neck. The
boy smiled crookedly like Wild
Bill, and holstered his smoking
revolvers. Then he turned to look
for his football.
THE END
Swami's
Snorts
"Who's that old peddler over
there?" "That's an economics prof
who took a crack at Wall Street."
A doughnut is a cookie that's had
it.
"If I have as much intelligence
As you say I possess;
If I always look to you
The snappiest in dress;
If I wer half as beautiful
As you always say I am,
Then I woundn't even date you,
You funny little man.
* * * *
"Mother, I broke a stick out
of the chair."
"How do you do it?"
"I pounded on it with your
camera."
Two fish on.a Sunday's swim
down the English Channel were
suddenly darkened by a tremen-
dous shadow.
Said Archie, "I say! What was
that?"
Said Reggie, "Don't fret, old
chap, it was only the Queen Mar
y's bottom.
Said Archie, in an awesome
tone, "God save the King!"
* * *
A wealthy Detroiter, returning
from his grand tour abroad, was
asked by an artistic friend wheth-
er he had managed to pick up a
Van Gogh or Picasso abroad.
"Naw," said the traveler.
"They're all left-hand drive over
there and besides I got three
Buicks anyway.
* * *
Mother is singing, she's happy
all the day for the warden made
her a trustee today.
* * *
LIMRICKS
There was once a butcher named
Sutton
Whose wife was a glutton for
mutton.
He sneaked up behind her,
Pushed her in the grinder,
No Sutton, no glutton, no mutton
-no nuttin'.
A gay chap from old Monticello
Was really a terrible fellow.
In the midst of caresses,
He filled ladies' dresses,
With garter snakes, ice cubes, and
jello.
"Why is it," said a doctor to El-
lery,
"Your intestines kick up such a
Hellery?"
"It may be the riot
Is caused in my diet
Of sloe gin, persimmons and cel-
ery.
* * *
In Boston, folks go in for read-
ing-
And place great emphasis on
breeding-
It's all quite fun
Where'er it's done
With pauses now and then for
feeding.
The Grotto
Brown
Derby
Showme
March of Dimes
Contributors'
Page
DOGGONE-IT, I'm office manager-not chief secretary!" is the cry
that resounds up and down the third floor halls of Read Hall
each day. The yell is indicative of the presence of Bev Engle, Swami's
chief secretary, whose main chores are keeping the secretaries work-
ing (sign the sheet, girls) and seeing that nothing of importance is
thrown away during the cleaning the office gets the day after paste-
up. She does these things quite well, too.
A pre-J-schooler with an eye (not jaundiced) on the radio and
television field, Bev is enrolled
in all the courses needed to get
into that noble college.
Bev hails from Great Falls,
Montana, a nice little town, but
really no Butte for looks.
Everyone has seen Bev at the
football games as she leads the
Hellcats, in turn leading the
crowd in mighty and surging
Bev Engle cheers as the team marches on to
victory. Besides this, she does a
little work now and then for SGA,
and was head matron of the Big
Sister squad down at AWS head-
quarters.
Between meetings and dates,
Bev can be located at the Kappa
house.
ONE FACT ABOUT PHOTO-JOURNALISM that people never seem to
give much thought to is that whenever you see a picture, there
must have been someone to take it. When taking shots for photo-
features, the guy behind the camera must be on time and with pa-
tience to stick it out for twenty or thirty shots, each requiring
camera adjustments. Norm Weimholt has the requirements for the
job of Photo Editor---dependability, patience, resourcefulness and
ability-sort of a Boy Scout with
a light meter.
A native of Boonville, Mo.,
Norm got his experience while
free-lancing before entering the
service in 1950. Since coming to
work for SHOWME, he has built
up a staff of some of the most
capable photographers we've ever
had. An example of this team-
work is Parity Goes to College
(Dec. 1955), the pictures for
which were taken the day before
deadline. Norm and his boys
worked all night, and had the
prints on the editor's desk the
next A.M.
These Don't have to be
THE DARKEST DAYS
OF YOUR LIFE
YOUR 1956 SAVITAR
IS NOW ON SALE
FROM YOUR LOCAL
REPRESENTATIVE -
OR
AT THE
SALE BOOTH
IN THE LOBBY OF THE
Sudent Union
Winston Cigarettes