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Showme January, 1956; by Students of the University of Missouri Columbia, 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