College news, January 18, 1950

VOL. XLVI, NO. 12 ARDMORE and BRYN MAWR, PA., WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 18, 1950

Copyright, Trustees of
Bryn Mawr College, 1950

a

PRICE 15 CENTS



ALL THE NEWS
THAT FITS
WE PRINT

’

PECIAL ISSUE

ALL THE NEWS

THAT FITS
WE PRINT



Dean Marshall: W







NEWS History Full of Faux-Pas,
Campus Issues, Fierce Headlines

“The College NEWS was start-
ed without any idea of its being
a_paying proposition.” How ex-
cellently that editorial policy suc-
ceeded; it was, perhaps, the only
one not to change through those
enterprising years which bring us
to the gay but bankrupt days of
1950. Isabel Foster, who started
the NEWS in 1914, promised other
things, too: “Interesting and au-
thentic college news every week!”
and “Besides prompt news, news
that is out of the ordinary, sur-
prising, hard to get...” as well
as ‘““‘We wish to assure the editors
of the Typyn O’Bob that we will
never publish literary matter.”

In those first weeks the col-
umns were filled with letters:
“Dear Editors:

Often I find it difficult to an-
swer correctly questions about
Bryn Mawr College. Will it be
possible to obtain accurate in-
formation through the medium of
your paper? If so, will you kind-



Manning Makes

Drama History

“Then there was Tilburina,
played by Helen Taft, who, ‘stark
mad in white satin,’ roused mirth
and applause from all.” Drama
still more drama seems to have
been the theme of early Bryn
Mawr theatrical history, and even
in those days it was remarkable,
as this notice in the College
NEWS of 1915 makes clear.

Before 1917 all shows were class
shows, and ranged from informal
skits through musical comedy and
that delightful annual Gilbert &
Sullivan to pure deep drama. Un-
dergraduates were versatile: a
little later the NEWS remarks
“Aida was effectively rendered in
the stentorian tones of Helen
Taft,” and that great stage career

Continued on Page 5



ly tell me what year President
Wilson was professor at Bryn
Mawr, and where he lived? En-
closed please find a check.”

And from indignant undergrad-
uates:

“Why do people insist on sitting
in the outside seat at Chapel so
that all the people coming in later
have to climb over them?”

NEWS business was more care-
free too: “Competition for the
Editor of the College NEWS is
now open. Will anyone interest-
ed please hand her name in to the
Board?”

Debate was a big issue: “There
isn’t any reason why — if we all

Continued on Page 4

President, Poets
Clutter Campus

The Bryn Mawr scene over the
past half-century was replete with
personalities — students, faculty,
distinguished guests alike. Strong-
est of them all, of course, was
Miss Thomas, who lectured per-
iodically on her peripatetic exis-
tence:

“JT was a born globe trotter. If
women’s education had not been
in such a sad state when I was
your age I think I should have
been an explorer. ...I drove my
car myself a great part of these
forty-five hundred miles. We did
not have a single puncture all that
distance...”

Miss Helen Taft became Dean
of the College, and Jater the fol-
lowing account of her marriage
was printed in the NEWS:

“She was greeted with cheers
when she arrived in a carriage
covered with homespun couverture
in honor of the occasion. . . . Later
the bride and bridegroom drove to
the wharf in a native caleche dec-
orated with peonies and ribbons
and with an old tennis shoe tied

Continued on Page 5





h| Wagner’s life.
‘|much more sensitive to genius we

oman of the Half - Century

Great Figures,
Famous Words
Illuminate Age

(Miss Thomas on Mohammedan
Women) “Never taking exercise,
they develop the mountains of fat
so much admired in the East.”

(On Wagner)
nothing more

“One can read
delightful than
It shows us how

will be when women wield more
influence. Women are very sus-
ceptible to Wagners’ genius. Dur-
ing his lifetime they could not
turn a deaf ear to his music. They
gave him their money, their time,
and their husbands’ homes... .”

(On Mr. Carpenter) “Mr. Car-
penter’s pages contain almost as
many swallows as Swinburne’s.”

(On Cecil Chesteron) ‘Cecil
Chesterton says that ‘All war is
wicked irrespective of what war
is about.’ This is like saying that
all hammering is wrong irrespec-
tive of whether you hammer the
head of a nail or the head of your
aunt.”

Continued on Page 6



NEWS ELECTIONS
The NEWS takes the great-
est pleasure in announcing the
election of: Joan McBride, 752,
as Editor - in - Chief, Paula
Strawhecker, ’52, as Copy Ed-
itor, and Jane Augustine, Bar-
bara Joelson, and Joanna Semel

as Board Members.

NEWS Examines

Social Patterns

(Looking over the social scene we
find that many of the changes at
Bryn Mawr have been signalled by
changes in the rules laid down for
our guidance. We are impressed
with the days before the first war
when there was no smoking allow-
ed, no men whatsoever except the
unmarried faculty, with whom
communication was forbidden, and
no comprehensives. But, for living
dangerously, you could have wine
in your room if you also had a
roommate.

Besides these large issues, there
were many smaller conditions of
life at Bryn Mawr; for example,
around 1914, no commerce (back-
ing and filling) was allowed be-
tween Pem East and Pem West
after the lower doors were locked.
And though the dining room doors
had to be left open because of fire,
passage was not easy because
Miss Patterson, the current hall
manager, stood guard. Miss Gar-
diner tells of crawling across the
dining room on hands and knees,
only to meet rotund Miss Patter-
son face to face—also on hands
and knees. “Both parties,” says
Miss Gardiner, “retired backwards
into their respective strongholds,
to try again.”









Continued on Page 2











Line of Great Danes Produces

Gardener of The

Bluetooth and Diana. The small
kingdom of Denmark lies north of
Germany, south of Norway, east
of England, this side of Russia.
Hers is a proud tradition, from
pre-historic times on; once con-
queror of England, her kings—
Gorm the Old, Harald Bluetooth,
Sweyn Forkbeard, Canute the
Great—have imbued her with their
spirit of fierce independence and
determination.

This idyllic land recently came
into the news when America sent
its first woman ambassador, Mrs.
Eugenie Anderson, to Copenhagen.
Yet few people probably know that
in this act President Truman de-
liberately symbolized what it is



Vogue’s Eyeview
Of Half-Century

Early 1900’s — Academic gowns
are in the note. They are worn
constantly, especially in Merion,
which boasts no closets. Two hooks
on the wall.provide for each under-
graduate’s needs: one hook for her
gown, one for her dress.

Hats are to be worn off campus
on Sundays, lest any local resident
suspect that every Bryn Mawr girl
does not go to church regularly.
1916 — This year’s well-dressed
hockey player will wear bloomers,
a middy blouse, long stockings, and
a corduroy skirt. For spring track
practice she may shed her skirt,
provided she does so in a shelter
by the field and never walks across
campus in her bloomers.

No actress may wear contempor-
ary male attire‘on the stage. This
year’s undergraduate will wear
formal dress to all college per-
formances, regardless of the re-
quired absence of all men (includ-
ing, of course, professors!).

Early 1920’s — Vogue quotes ap-
propriate ads from the College
NEWS:

Continued on Page 2



Half-Century

that the U. S. owes to Denmark—
a woman, the Woman of the Half-
Century, Dean Dorothy Nepper
Marshall of Bryn Mawr (in pri-
vate life, Mrs. J. Nathaniel Mar-

shall).
Blonde, lively, keen-eyed, effi-
cient Dorothy Marshall comes

from a long line of great Danes.
Grandfather Nepper was a sea-
captain who took his family along
on the “Diana” every summer
around the world (he once lost
glasses- wearing, medium sized
Mrs. Marshall’s father overboard
in the North Sea, luckily found
him again). Little Dorothy Nep-
per’s early life was spent mostly
on a farm in New England, occa-
sionally in Denmark, of which she
has pleasant memories. Her fav-
orite games involved a horse and
a Model-T Ford.

The next step was Marshfield
High School, from which Dean
Marshall emerged ninth in a class
of ten (she also received an award

Continued on Page 3

Century Breeds
Heroic Athletes

As the upperclassmen sym-
pathize with the freshmen who
are wending their weary ways to
Body Mechanics, it is evident that
they do not know how lucky they
really are. Up until 1928, four
years of gym were required of
everyone, with no cuts allowed.
This small fact is only one piece
of evidence among’ thousands
which show how much larger a
place Sports (with a very def-
inite capital S) took in the life
of a Bryn Mawr undergraduate.
Class teams were organized to the
Nth degree, says Miss Grant, who
came to Bryn Mawr in 1980, two
years after Miss Applebee left.
Under the latter, one girl was even
heard to say that she hadn’t done.

Continued on Page 3




Page Two

THE COLLEGE NEWS





THE COLLEGE NEWS

FOUNDED IN 1914



mission of the Editor-in-Chief.

The College News is fully protected by copyright.
appears in it may be reprinted either wholly or in part without per-

Nothing that



GWYNNE WILLIAMS, ’50
Betty DEMPWOLF, ’50



Emity TOWNSEND, 50, Editor-in-Chief
ANNE GREET, ’50, Copy Editor Hanna Hovporn, ’50, Make-Up
IntNa NE.IDow, 50, Make-Up Nina Cave, ’50
MELANIE Hewitt, ’50
ELISABETH NELIDow, ’51
Photography
FRANCINE DU PLEssIx, ’52





Like Lady Godiva - - -

The Editors are dead; long live the Editors. Poor hope-
ful scriveners, we have sacrificed our sleep for a nation’s

entertainment, and bent our

backs to the burdens of the

world. Let us pay our tribute at once to those who do not

die with us, and then say a quick farewell.

to be done.

There is work

First and most emphatically, thanks we can never ex-
press strongly enough to Miss McBride, whose clear judg-
ment and rare understanding have made our year in the
editorial chair a constant pleasure and a stimulating educa-

tional experience.

Heartfelt thanks, gratitude, and our very best wishes to
the NEWS staff: the staff of the half-century.

Thanks to Mr. Adams for his horse story, his dog story,
his stamps, his news items, and his snake dance.

Thanks to Mrs. Paul, who has pulled us out of the most

horrifying situations with a
sense.

smile and immense common

Thanks to Mr. Kamerdze for waiting so patiently while
we finished up our editorials at four in the morning, for driv-
ing us periodically toward the engravers and away from
trouble, and for not charging us extra for our bad behavior

in his Plant.

Thanks, many thanks to Louie for being a fireman, a

beer-drinker, a thorough bon
ous with his cigarettes.

vivant, and extremely gener-

Thanks to John for his courtesy, and for pretending not
to know that we should have been out of Goodhart half an

hour ago.

Thanks to Wyndham for not minding our low-bred
English in their Parisian quarters, and to our warden for
smiling bravely at the outrageous telephone bill.

Thanks to the college for continuing to read us—we
wish them better reading in the future, and hope they may

sometimes think of kindly of the past. {

And now, to plagiarize Dr. Herben, we leap to our

clothes.



Vogue’s Eye View of Half-Century Reveals
Unnatural Delight in Dirt, Torn Stockings
Continued from Page 1 :

“A corset is so personal — so
much a part of one’s very self...

“Three dozen T-shirts have been
sold by the firm in Pembroke East
For Garden Party: “Dainty sum-
mer frocks of silk and filmy fab-
rics.”
Prom the NEWS itself: “A crowd
of students attired in a long full
corduroy skirt .. .” Three-way
stretch?
1926-1928 — The middy blouse
epoch is drawing to a close, and
with it the outworn fashion of tight
headbands, worn low on the fore-
head.

Academic gowns are now worn
purely for practical reasons, and
are an excellent substitute for
raincoats. A few. of the faculty,
Miss Swindler, Miss Schenck, Miss
Wright, still wear gowns to lec-
tures to lend the proper atmo-
sphere.

Late 1920’s — The zenith of the
Messy, Unwashed Age. Runs in
stockings are a must; they are
carefully started in new stockings
before the first wearing.

From a later Screenland write-
up of Katherine Hepburn (’28):
“They had known that Kate Hep-
burn was a grand girl — awfully
careless as to clothes, of course—
but very clever ... She wore bat-
tered sneakers about the campus.
Big, heavy sports shoes and socks
_also, sometimes . . . She frequent-
ly made her appearance at break-
fast in a suit or a dress hastily
pulled over her pajamas, with the
sleep still in her eyes... A green
corduroy skirt with raveled hem
and a shirt which needed press-



”

Ne os
1934 — The Messy, Unwashed
Age still prevails, and is reflected
in the Make-It-Last-Forever Look.
Chic is the senior who wears the
clothes she wore freshman year.
This of course involves an exten-
sive use of safety pins.

Editorial from the 1934 NEWS:
“Visitors to the campus are con-
fronted on all sides by intellectuals
with fingernails suffering from in-
timate contact with good earth,
hair resembling that of an East
Indian native after a hard day in
the rice fields, and clothes that
would have brought shame on a
Belgian refugee ... ”

“There is a rule against wearing
men’s clothing on campus or in
public parts of the halls, unless
completely covered.”

Beach pajamas are in vogue. The
girl with the widest girth wears
the flashiest pajamas.

1934 marks the Controversy of

the Beards: Herben’s vs. Weiss’.:

Herben’s is more impressive, Weiss’
more charming. The contest ends
in a draw.
1941-1945—The war years. Suit-
able attire for air-raid drills con-
sists of a coat, shoes, and a wet
towel. The rules for these drills
differ slightly from those for fire
drills, causing much confusion.
1948 — The New Look results in
voluminous ankle-length skirts
which create new hazards in bi-
cycle riding. Hair is worn in a
pony tail at an angle approaching
90 degrees to the vertical.
Vogue predicts for 1950:

Here Vogue closes its Eye.

the sewing contest.”



Wednesday, January 18, 1950



Opinion

Appreciative Wyndham
Fondly Says
Farewell

Open Resolution to the College
NEWS:

Whereas, Your home has been
“chez nous” these past two years;
and -

Whereas, Mr. Kamerdze ‘is the
only man living that we would al-
low to see us in kimona, pjs, with
turbanned and dripping head; and

Whereas, The May Day issue
started a new working day at 11
P. M., and increased our overnight
register by approximately the
number of members of the NEWS
Board, and enveloped our dining
room in the greatest mystery; and

Whereas, The discussions of the
Board leave in their wake crumbs,
risque jokes, and the latest gossip
about certain professors; and

Whereas, Our education has
been furthered by our contact with
several members of the Staff and
Board, whose love of music and
poetry has inspired in us the love
of such classics as the modern
version of “Oh Dear, What Can
the Matter Be”; and

Whereas, B-Bright would keep
us company almost any night we
decided to type our long papers,
because she once worked on the
NEWS too; and

Whereas, We are especially
grateful for your giving us our
champion Charleston dancer; and

Whereas, We have been en-
chanted by the “imaginative”
stories told us by your inimitable
Editor-in-Chief; and

Whereas, We love the Tuesday-
night sight of two “rump-tious”
egitors on the smoker rug, breath-
ing smoke, getting drunk on
water, being innoculated against
drooping eyelids by Nescafe,
while pounding out features, edi-
torials . . . and sometimes criti-
cisms (!); therefore, be it

RESOLVED, That we shall miss
you.

Love,
Wyndham

New Social Patterns
Change Self-Gov. Rules

Continued from Page 1

Also in the files for the pre-war
period we find that two repri-
mands were given for motoring
out of town after dark unchap-
eroned, and for dining at the Ritz-
Carlton with a man. An even
brighter note from this era: “The
Tea Room is giving a The ‘Dansant
on Friday afternoon .. . admission
will be five cents and cakes and
lemonade will be sold. The music
will probably be supplied by the
Freshman Orchestra. No men will
be allowed...”

But grimly: “In respect to the
Student Council,” said Miss
Thomas, “it has never been con-
sulted about faculty regulations.
Many of the faculty do not know
of its existence.” ,

During the twenties there were
several innovations. “At symphony
concerts and the Opera students
may sit apart from their chap-
erones,” and, says an old NEWS,
“such words as darrrling (roll
the r) and virile (ditto) are firmly
established in the language of the
Bryn (Mawr student. “And a
homey detail: “H. Mill won first
prize for the best-dressed doll in
Apparently,
too, the wardens said good-night
to each student personally, and
breakfast in bed cost fifteen cents.

In 1927, a revolutionary year,
smoking and men were first recog-

nized and permitted on campus..

However, the attitude toward pub-
licity remained conservative, and
the students were not permitted to
mention Bryn Mawr in announc-
ing their engagements, thus en-
couraging the widespread belief
that Bryn Mawr girls never
marry. :

In the early thirties, an edict

‘mately three feet from the ground,



Funerals, Man,tStark Reality
Mark Trend in College Writing”

“I never was a happy girl. My
baptismal name is Heliodora; my
family name . , . ” Bryn Mawr’s
creative efforts in the dawn of the
half-century were coated with a
sombre gloom. Funerals dot the
pages of the Fortnightly Philis-
tine: “When the funeral was over,
Veronica Churchill found herself
standing in the drawing-room with
Cecil Markham.” “There was a
deep hush throughout the house of
the deceased Jane Willis, as, two
days after the funeral, the heirs
filed into the drawing room of
their late mother.” “In the bed
facing the western window. my
mother lay dying ... The angel
was long in coming and I was
weary waiting.”

vn ee







Where are the elders of our
family?
Where is
Emily?
Down in Goodhart watch them
weeping

They’ll be back no more.

Hanna? Where is

Where is Gwynneth? Where is
Nina?

Where is Anne and where’s Irina?

Up in the Library see them sleep-
ing

They’ll be back no more.

Monday, Tuesday now are their
Nights Out;

At 10:30 they put their lights out.

Hear the chant of the elderly
editors

“We'll come back no more.

“Goodbye Louie, goodbye headlines
Hello world and hello breadlines;
We may write you lengthy leditors
But we’ll come back no more.”



from the Dean’s Office announced
‘there is to be no sun-bathing less
than twenty-five feet from the
ground.” But the rules were sag-
ging nevertheless ...

Miss Tate-Smith informs us that
in this period the College Inn was
open till ten at night. “Many used
to spend the day.” “And Merion,”
she said, “was a cess-pool of vice.
Students used to go over the
Freshman Handbook to find rules:
they hadn’t broken, and break
them. Things were better and
wickeder then. Everybody was a
strumpet or a wench.” During pro-
hibition Miss Taylor served “a
very strong tea”...

In 1934 Sallie Jones’ suave sex
questionnaire asked “what do you
think about being a virgin and
everything?” And later the Pre-
Raphaelite Brotherhood announced
that its members “shall have an
official salute which shall be the
raising of the left foot approxi-

in imitation of the attitude of the
wicked brother in Lorenzo and
Isabella by Holman Hunt.” Soon
afterwards the comprehensive
system ‘was introduced.

The war years at Bryn Mawr
were grim and full of privation.
But there were practice air-raids
and the handsomest”professors on
campus—Carpenter, Watson, Cam-
eron, Broughton, and Sloane —
were chosen as wardens. They
used to pass through the halls at



If death did not begin a story,
it was gure to end it. “Then die,’
she cried, vanishing. ‘Die in thine
obstinacy!’ And the dungeon walls,
reechoed, Die.” The Lantern con-.
tributor’s imaginings were filled
with wracking, mordant horror.
“Tt is terrible,’ she said, ‘when a
thing like this comes into the life
of a woman like me.”’” “John
William Smith was not a college
Man... ; si “Dear girl, be strong

.-” “*No matter,’ he said, ‘Kis-
met.’” (By Gwynne Williams’
Aunt Grace).

Our first forerunners were earn~
est, profound, and grave (“Feel
for the first time that you are eat-
ing the sweat of your honest
brow”) but at infrequent intervals
a happier note was sounded. “The
owlets are gurgling low in the
trees.” “The Junior Professor of
Greek was walking up the avenue
in a brown study...” “Alice was
different from the other women he
had known... ”

A weakness for family deaths
lingered on in to the next decade.
“T have had sad news. My mother
has died—of severe hereditary
gout—and I must leave at once.”
But, in general the teens was an
aimiable age. “I love all post-
men. I love them not for the let-
ters they bring me but for them-

selves.” “My own, close to me,
closer creep.” But their affection
was not always returned.

“Wheep,” she said coyly . . . look-

ing up at him. He... only shift-
ed away from her.” “No women—
he was not that sort.” “My un-

requited love simply exhausts me.”
‘Alas! I never knew that she had
a bloom until it was rubbed off.”

Occasionally daily life was re-
flected in the art of the times: “a
bust of Virgil, whose parted lips
showed teeth...” “The man who
lives next door is a musician...
“The other girls were talking.
She really did not have to. She
was not facing his way, but...

She knew...” “‘Clarence,’ said
Effie, ‘what are they fighting
for?’”

The intemperance of the twen-.
ties is blatant on the pages
of Tipyn O’Bob “...I mixed him
a good stiff whiskey, and hot.
water, such as is a Godsend to a
man with a chill.” “A wmiddle-.
aged man sat drinking benedictine
beneath the striped awning of a
Parisian cafe.” “My treasured
pomegranate wine and _ delicate
Brazilian pears were not wasted
on my guests.” “She prayed that
her brimming cup might flow.”
“The guests were standing list-.
lessly sipping cocktails.”

Man was coming to the fore in
the creative minds of the campus.
‘... a brave dear lad and the
leader among the younger Repub-
licans.” “He was not the mag-
nificent young god of wheat and
corn that her imagination had
painted.” “He wasn’t very strong,
either, college had been too strenu-
ous.”

And with man, came tragedy.
“Her world divided before her, and
she walked into the rift.’ “Even
when you are dead the earth will
still be lovely sometimes.” “To
follow up unthinking youth with
matronhood, is this my lot?”

The thirties is the stage of a
mighty conflict between extreme
cynicism and stark realism, “ ‘Shut
up’, I snapped, still being brutal.’
“The boy struggled to hold _ the
tiller. ‘God,’ he said unemotional-
ly.” “Of the two I liked Miss
Jane Tate better than Miss Sarah,
chiefly because Miss Sarah had
once kissed me. But I hated them
both.” “He understood her kind.

Continued on Page 3



night with carefully elevated gaze,
while the girls lined the corridors
in their flimsiest pajamas.

The poet Auden, who was on the
campus in those days, when he.
was not losing his trousers in the .

Continued on Page 6

le

i










Wednesday, January 18, 1950

THE COLLEGE NEWS

Page Three





The Half-Century



Athene and Busts Leave Taylor
As Civilization Overtakes Campus

How many of us_ know that
Mrs. Michel’s foot print is immor-
talized in what-was-once-wet plas-
ter somewhere on Goodhart’s bal-
cony? that Professor Herben be-
gan to grow his beard in the early
720s? that before Athene came to
live with Mrs. Michels and Mon-
sieur Guicharnaud she kept watch
outside the Faculty Cloakroom?

Many and wonderful are the
changes that have taken place on
campus in the last half-century,
and Taylor perhaps is the center
of them all. Even in 1915 some
doubts were raised as to its archi-
tectural harmony. “Shall we have
a decapitated Taylor?” asked the
NEWS. ‘Shall we be glad or sor-
ry if the Building Committee
agrees with the Dean of Montana
in thinking that the top of the
tower shouid be removed just
where the copper begins? Will it
look as though Taylor were kick-
ing one leg in the air, in rivalry
with the four the Elephant Li-
brary kicks? ... could Taylor ever
look Early Jacobean?” Chapel
was held on the second floor and
the hall was lined with copies of
classical busts. An alphabet poem
in an ancient Fortnightly Philis-
tine says:

B

B is a bust,

That Nelson must dust,

Be it goddess or sage

Of the classical age.

b

Interesting bust!

One big college project in those
days was the raising of funds to
build the lower hockey field. The
field was originally designed with
banked sides so that it could be
flooded in the winter for ice skat-
ing. It was not until it was built,
however, that someone realized
that the steam pipes to Yarrow
went directly under the area and
so, of course, it would never
freeze.

The same careful planning for
the future was evident in other
campus’ enterprises. “Indeed,”
said Miss Thomas in 1918, “in a
sense the tower of Rockefeller
Hall was planned so that the Col-
lege students could follow the cus-
tom of Magdalen College, Oxford,
and sing to the sun on the first of
May. It is carved on both sides



with our coat of arms. It is
diapered with Bryn Mawr daisies;
the Bryn Mawr owls of Athene
perch over it and make it the gate
by which all her daughters enter
and depart. I think you have
heard me say that the first archi-
tect of the College, Walter Cope,
drew and redrew this tower six
times before he and I were satis-
fied that it was exactly right... .”

In the twenties, civilization be-
gan to encroach, and the NEWS
complained in 1928, “Four years
ago when we were freshmen, Bryn
Mawr seemed really rural. Gulph
road was only fit for cows and
rubber boots, the sewer was a
woodland stream and we thought
it pure. The hill across from Yar-
row was a wild slope where we
lay out under the stars and won-
dered immaturely about life and
death. Now it is a real estate
development flowering with
bungalows. . . . The violet by the
mossy bank gives place to the rub-
ber plant by the Bryn Mawr Trust
Co.... The class of 1950 will have
to taketo their aeroplanes to
reach their picnic places .. .”

And Dr. Chew delighted all by
his side whiskers and pastel shirts.

The thirties marked a decline in
innovations. Of course, there was
Katherine Lc “One of Hep-
burn’s favorite spots on the
campus was the greensward en-
closed by the library cloisters,
where she loved to disport herself
and roll in the damp grass.” There
was also Rhoads and the departure
of the busts. “Back from her sab-
batical leave, Mrs. Manning is de-
lighted at the growth of the
campus and is far from regretting
the busts in Taylor. ‘The living
quarters in Rhoads are elegant be-
yond compare,’ she says... .”

And in 1946, our freshman year,
came a novel, if temporary, addi-
tion to the campus. Man. But he
he left quite soon. The only land-
mark that has remained unchang-
ed through the years is Low
Buildings. _

L

L is Low Buildings,

Away down the hill;

It is low in location,

In build, and in bill.

1
Extremely low buildings. |

as best athlete). Her ambition was
to go into training as a gym teach-
er or to attend agricultural college
and become a dairy farmer, but
her family said no. So Dorothy
Marshall went to Smith.
Spain and Westerns

She loved Smith, but in the
beginning had a few difficulties.
At the end of her freshman year
she was told by the Dean (“who
had only my good at heart,” says
twinkling, well-dressed Mrs. Mar-
shall) that she might be happier
elsewhere. But Dorothy Marshall

stuck it out, made the XYZ
Hockey League (an organ-
ization incorporating ambitious

athletes who had failed to make
the first, second, third, fourth
varsity teams, as well as the class
teams) and in her junior year was
accepted to go abroad. She went
to Spain, loved it, discovered the
glamor of the international world,
and then returned to Northamp-
ton. After graduation, she went
back to Spain on a fellowship and
took her M.A.

The U. S. was just recovering
from the effects of a great de-
pression when Dorothy Nepper
stepped out into the world. Hired
to teach English and Spanish at
a southern private school, she
taught the girls to write westerns,
once received a story which began:
“Swat me for a mule if ’t’ain’t
two-gun Baker.”

Having taken full advantage of
the cultural opportunities of the



Long Line of Great Danes



Half-Century Produces

Long Line of Athletes
Continued from Page 1

too well that year, as she had

only been goalie on the seventh

far more enthusiastic, posssibly
because Miss Applebee was on the
NEWS as faculty advisor.

“Meyer put up a good defense
against Mr. Lattimore’s fast, ag-
gressive game, but it was not
enough... .”

“Crenshaw displayed good tech-
nique in the masterly strokes with
which he sent the ball flying from
the goal he defended. . . .”

Faculty-student games were
rampant, and the following story
emerges from one such titanic
combat: “In a faculty-student
hockey game he flashed up and
down the field waving his stick
and making goals with elegant
form. ... Proud and panting as
he came off the field he was ad-
dressed by Joe Graham, the old
night watchman in the following
immortal words: ‘For a man of
your age and weight, Dr. Nahm,
you run like the wind.’ ”

Water-polo was the great game
to play, if you could swim at all,
and the bathing suits worn were
even more charming then than
they are now. A solid grey color,
they were longer, even less shape-
ly, and as high in front as they
were in back. “Really like sacks,”
said Miss Grant.

The tennis court in back of Mer-
ion was originally the faculty
court, where no one else was al-





class team! Sports write-ups were |



Great Dane of the Half-Century Describes
The Life and Times of the Bryn Mawr Dean

Continued from Page 1 ;

South (she learned to play golf)
earnest, hardworking Dorothy
Marshall came to Bryn Mawr, in
1939-40, to ‘do graduate work in
Spanish. She lived in ivied, now
undergraduate - populated (Radnor
Hall, remembers a fellow student
who used to play the cello, shoeless
and wearing a red hair ribbon
(she also ate grass). After re-
ceiving her Ph.D., fearless, good-
natured former Deanepper was
hired as part-time instructor in
Spanish, part-time assistant to
Miss Schenk, then Dean of the
Graduate School. After a series
of rapid promotions, she became
Dean of the Ufdergraduate School
in 1946,

Beards and Biologists

Now, in her fourth year as Dean,
Mrs. Marshall finds herself stok-
ing the furnace of a well-heated
administrative machine. Surround-
ed by the “Dean’s Trust” (Good
Friend and Fellow Horticulturist
Sidney Donaldson, pert Margaret
Irwin, soft-spoken Adelaide Rofi)
she works her way through the
assorted bales of business that
makes up the life of a Dean, still
finds time for home, hubby, hob-
bies.

Bustling, fun-loving Dorothy
Marshall’s day begins each morn-
ing when she drives her husband
(she married physicist Jonathan
Nathaniel in 1948) to the 7:11
Paoli Local. The hour being early,
Mrs. Marshall sometimes has diffi-
culties, once raced down ‘Roberts
Road in a bathrobe when the car
ran out of gas. Then, promptly at
8:45, the Dean arrives at Bryn
Mawr in a pale silvery blue Stu-
debaker convertible wtih a large
hole in the front seat and grease
spots (left by bones left by large
dog left by mother) in the back.
At 9:00, she teaches a class in
Baby ‘Spanish, then gets down to
work in her office. “I have open
house for all who wish to come,”
she says, “parents, students, fac-
ulty — often the Philosophy De-
partment.” Dr. Nahm declares
that the Dean’s Office has finally
come into the power of the Phi-
losophy Department with the ap-

Continued on Page 4



Death, Man Influence

Half-Century Writers
Continued from Page 2

He knew what she liked, and he
gave it to her.”

Dreadful calamities leap up from
every page to overwhelm the read-
er in hopeless despair. “ ... it
was quite impossible to say what
day the nurse had arrived. And
for that matter, what exact year
the mother had become mad.” “The
tale of her restless unhappiness,
of her growing hatred for the
little house, of the Other Man who
had come so disastrously into her
life and finally of her death by her
own hand, was one that...”
Carleton (desperately uncomfort-
able) “Oh.” ”

Nick (making sudden movement
with gun, in same snarling tone)
“No,”’ '

Most striking was a vivid vo-
cabulary and metaphorical vision.
“| ,. like a young goat looking for
new flowers and swooping at gay
butterflies with his:cap.” “...a
tense, mischievous mouth, often
clamped still by two gleaming
teeth.’ “A man passed her in a
dark serape, with only his eyes
showing.” “ ... he could stroke
the scar. It was now pale in color,
shining like a snail’s track, and
wrinkled.” “Her stiffened body
trembled, and liquid streams of
fire forced their way through her
CHENG (7

And the last ten years have seen
the final stripping of romance
from off the horrid realities about
us. The writer cultivates scien-
tific interest and practical skills.
This sort of thing leads to a nar-
rowing of poetic experience. Of
course, there are those who feel
that science can never be the an-
swer but they are usually young
and naive and upset by life.

In Counterpoint, magazine of
the half-century, we see a new,
cryptic, cylindric art. Gone are the
days of drama, death, and despon-
dency—of calamity, cynicism, and
savoir-faire. And yet, not entirely
zone, for recently a primeval cry
of supplication and despair was
found crumpled in the NEWS
waste basket.

Lord, here a little child we pray

Make us wiser day by day

And when we labor on

NEWS
Deliver us from Interviews.

the





The Beard and the Athlete





lowed to play, but the advantages
of this privilege were dubious, for
the students would constantly or-

ganize tea-parties whose chief at- |
the possibility of

traction was
watching the professors at play
through the nearest window. The
harassed faculty were at last al-
lowed to use any courts they
wanted, but it is doubtful whether
their privacy was increased by
this change.

The horrors of losing all the
games in one hockey season were
forcefully borne in upon the stu-
dents, as the following 1916 edi-
torial shows:

“Varsity failed to win again
last Saturday. Does everyone
realize that we have not won a
single game this season? The All-
Philadelphia game will be a mock-
ery; each team can beat us sep-
arately. ... In 1910 we won 17-0



against Germantown. . . . What
has happened? Is it in any way
the fault of the general support
of the college? If it is, shame
upon us. Let us, every one, ap-
pear on the sidelines this Satur-
day and cheer so loud that Varsity
will be forced to win. Anything
less than this will be below the
honour of Bryn Mawr. We can-
not bear being beaten in every
game of the season.”

The following poem expresses
beautifully the dogged determina-
tion that characterized the Bryn
Mawr Athlete:

“A hockey player must not

speak

When told she is a waddling

freak;

The tie and stocking must be

right,

The teeth should all be screwed

in tight.”




Page Four

THE CO

LLEGE NEWS

Wednesday, January 18, 1950



Burning Issues of the Day Provided NEWS
With Material for Faux-Pas, Scoops, Libel
Continued from Page 1

work hard—Bryn Mawr shouldn’t
challenge Vassar and Mount Hol-
yoke, and even beat them.” In
later years headlines ran:

Tuesday’s Debate Decides

On Emotions vs. Intellect
and a week later:

The Emotions Win!

Back in the early days the
NEWS was always being attacked
for its “abominable carelessness
wit hthe proof”; there was the
English graduate student who was
listed as getting a second in the



girl’s defense “only for the pleas-
ure of telling M. Carey Thomas
she is an admirable liar.” There
was the Finnish question, the Col-
lege Inn, and the Great Unwash-
ed. The NEWS did justice to
them all.

Headlines were startling, even
outdistancing our own that we
caught just in time last week:

Dr. Edelstein

Plans To Give

Frank Lecture

Horror-struck

in the ’30, the





“And we Wicirated the Plant. owe

Monotonous Food

Perpetual Blight

There is something monotonous
about food. Through one half cen-
tury it has done nothing but get
worse and worse. Gone are the
days when the maids would come
around every night whispering
“beef or lamb?” in one’s ear. That
was before the first world war
when the NEWS was advocating
“The June Bride, newest of. the
Fairy Tale Sundaes at Whitman’s
Soda Counter,” and urging every-
one to “Come to the Book Shop on
Friday ... . and buy some candy
.. . The proceeds go to the new
Hockey Field. Make a pound or
two and buy a lot. Don’t be afraid
of getting sick ... pure candy is
good food.”

Soon came the grim “meatless”
and “wheatless” days of Wor'd
War I. The college was given a
20-acre farm to raise its own nour-
ishment on, and it canned things
in the summer. “Don’t pickle your
peas and parsnips,” advised.,,.Mrs.
N. C. Snyder and ih’1918° Miss
Thomas warned “The price of
board next year will have to be
raised from $225 to $300 to meet
the rising cost of food...”







“Mathematical Tripes” at Cam-
bridge, and the professor who was
announced as receiving his new
status “through a series of rabid
promotions.” There was praise
for the NEWS too: Mr. Robert
MacAlarney said: “What I like
about the College NEWS is the
degree of horse-sense radiated.”

As the years went on, the format
gradually grew more modern and
decorative —the pages were long-
er, the headlines bolder, the edi-
torials spread out into two col-
umns. Piloted by daring and in-
ventive editors like Miss Linn and
Sallie Jones, the NEWS fought its
battles bravely. An alumna wrote,
“We hope we can stimulate the
board to greater efforts by our
expressions of disapproval,” and
the editors said gently, “Com-
plaints for not ‘publishing radical
editorials on subjects of present
interest have reached our ears

during the last week ... we do
not wish to arouse antagon-
ism. ...” Backing the paper loyal-

ly, the 1927 Yearbook said:
Heard at the Printers

Secretary: “Is the manager
coming in with the dummy on
Friday?”

Member of ’27: “No, indeed,

she’s coming in with the Editor.”

Campus issues roared on. There
was the time Miss Thomas pulled
a fast one and only reserved rooms
for the freshmen if they would
agree to take only four week-
ends a semester; there was the
limited cut rule: Miss Thomas de-
clared in Chapel “that when she
first came to Bryn Mawr she be-
lieved in absolute freedom, but she
had been forced from her position
and now stood with her back to
the wall.” There was the famous
kleptomaniac case, where a promi-
nent lawyer took the expelled

NEWS cried:

Grads To Do Murder

For Relaxation

and more cheerfully

Russia Has Overcome
Mental Indifference

There was

Miss Park Considers

Autos Distracting

and

Are You Adequate or Do
You Shrink From Life

and most disturbing of all:
Emily Green Balch Predicts
Women Will Be Drug on Market

Once, in the hey-day of criti-
cism, when Miss Tate-Smith and
Miss Nelson graced the editorial
board, Miss Nelson wrote a review
to fill up space, on a play that
had never existed, which aroused
unparalleled enthusiasm on
campus and flooded the paper
with letters from people who ask-
ed where it was playing. There
was the bad moment when the
NEWS was threatened with a fac-
ulty advisor — the first since the
days when Miss Applebee guided
the helm — because of the ques-
tionnaire on sex circulated by
Sallie Jones. “Do you like being
a virgin?” she asked.

The NEWS is not dead yet. In
our days we have known] it sad
and delightful, exhausting fand re-
warding, battle-scarred



have decorated the plant with
toilet paper (see cut), we have
entertained Mr, Kamerdze in our





Compliments will never stop
If your hair is done at the
Vanity Shoppe
Telephone: Bryn Mawr 1208









FLOWERS ! !!

The best Valentine
For the one and only

Jeanett’s

BRYN MAWR







DRESSES - SUITS - BLOUSES
at

Nancy Brown

28 Bryn Mawr Ave.
(under the Country Bookstore)



MEET AT THE GREEK’S
Tasty Sandwiches
Refreshments

LUNCHES — DINNER



After the war was over you might
suppose that people ate again.
but along came the depression in-
stead. ‘When, dear reader you peer
hopefully between the covers of a
League Sandwich,” cried the NEWS

.| pitifully in 1930, “what do you be-

hold? A childish hint of peanut
butter, perhaps, or a scandalous
old lettuce leaf, or possibly a faint
smear of jam clinging ashamed to
the nakedness of unbuttered
bread...”
Frail and Famished

And after the depression, when
lettuce might be expected to take
on a decent aspect once more, an-
other war made the average Bryn
Mawr student frailer and more
famished than ever. Depressed by
the presence of lard and horsemeat
on the tables, she took to smoking
a pipe. ‘Oh, the privations!” was a
campus commonplace, and_ the
NEWS for once expressed aca-
demic opinion: “We know there is
a war on and these are tiring
times, but must it affect the let-
tuce? The leaves look like retreat
on the Tunisian desert.”

And so it goes. The lettuce,
most emphatically, has not im-
proved. But, on the whole, we



pajamas, we have lost the copy
in unmentionable places and run
into fantastic debt, we have been
taken for rides in the Ardmore
fire truck by Louie, with all the
sirens screaming and _ faculty
staring aghast from the roadside,
and we have dealt firmly but
sympathetically with professors
who drank too much of our pri-
vate champagne at our memorable
NEWS party. We have been in
love with the NEWS for four
years and now we shall miss it
more than we care to say.





Aim straight for a
heart )

with a valentine
from

Dinah Frost

Lancaster Ave.
Bryn Mawr, Pa.











Come to the

BRYN MAWR









Leave the library, forget exams

That’s our demand.

Inn!!!

COLLEGE INN





pointment of her new assistant.
“T told him that I would publicize
his hideous attitude,” says Dean
Marshall briskly.

At the same time, she reads her
way through several bushels of
mail, often receives letters saying
“We are two young men in the
senior class at University
and don’t know any girls to take
to the Junior Prom. We are 5’9”
not interested in the classics, and
we do not like graduate students.
Can you help us?”; once, address-
ed as “influential educator in close
contact with youth.of tomorrow,”
was asked to sell ladies’ under-
wear for a commission (she
didn’t).

Shortly before 11:00, Miss Don-
aldson opens the door of doodling,
paper-clip-breaking Dorothy Mar-
shall’s office, says “now.” At the
signal, she races from Taylor to
Deanery, has coffee (she takes it
straight) with other faculty mem-
bers. Dean Marshall finds coffee
“a very useful institution,” listens
to conversation, finds out astound-
ing news (such as a history pro-
fessor decorating each wall of his
new home in a different color),
sometimes hands out some news
herself (as when she announced
that she expects a baby in May).
The 15-minute coffee hour also
saves time for everybody, as she
is available for complaints then
and there.

Coffee over, understanding, I'll
stand-for-no-nonsense-here-young-
lady Dorothy Marshall returns to
her office where she investigates
something called “student prob-
lems.” Every now and then even
she is stumped, however; once a
student, asking to take two
courses which met at the same
hour, explained that she didn’t
have to attend the lectures of the
one course, anyhow, since they





have only one regret—that the
Greeks did not continue its 1934
habit of serving beer.



Great Dane of the Half-Century Describes
The Life and Times of the Bryn Mawr Dean

Continued from Page 3

were so dull; another time, Mrs.
Marshall, perturbed by the utter
silence displayed by a shy foreign
girl, finally in desperation asked
her to tell her the list of assign-
ments in English Lit., was answer-
ed “The beard, it wiggles, but the
words I do not understand.” Dean
Marshall also serves on endless
committees, is especially fond of
the Petitions Committee, which
deals with students failing to sign
in for the last class before or first
class after vacation and receives
many “affectionate and cheerful”
notes from train conductors, air-
line officials.

Lunch for busy Dorothy Mar.
shall usually consists of an eco-
nomical soup and salad or an eco-
nomical soup and sandwich. The
social consciousness of the faculty
is high; anyone ordering a 385c
dessert is immediately booed out
of the Deanery and suspected of
sinister and secret sources of in-
come. ‘At lunch, she discusses pol-
itics (‘the discussions used to be
better,” she says, “when the Re-
publicans came to lunch”) in
which she is a Democrat by con-
viction and also for sake of argu-
ment, argues also about the proper
way to address German royalty,
the dates of the English kings, on
Mondays about the Times cross-
word puzzles, and listens to “re-
pulsive remarks” concerning the
Deanery food from the biologists

jand \|Mr. Lattimore. (“(He’s supposed

to have the soul of a poet .. .”
says the Dean.)

The Dean’s afternoons are oc-
cupied with more committee meet-
ings, letter-writing, reports, den-
tists, shopping for clothes and
groceries, and occasionally, trans-
porting her mother’s large mong-
rel dog to be deloused. At 6 P.*M.,
dynamic, humorous Dorothy Mar-
shall goes home and eats some
more.

Supper at the Marshalls’
Continued on Page 6

is





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rt

Campus Store, Hamilton, N. Y.




Ask for it either way... both
trade-marks mean the same thing.

¢ Pius 14

State Tax

In Hamilton, New York, the favorite gathering
spot of students at Colgate University is the
Campus Store because it is a cheerful place—
full of friendly collegiate atmosphere. And
when the gang gathers around, ice-cold
Coca-Cola gets the call. For here, as in college
haunts everywhere—Coke belongs.

BOTTLED UNDER AUTHORITY OF THE COCA-COLA COMPANY BY
The Philadelphia Coca-Cola Bottling Company

© 1949, The Coca-Cola Company


















Wednesday, January 18, 1950

THE COLLEGE NEWS

Page Five



1933 Faculty Show Features ‘‘Buxom Belles”’ ;

Stage Realism Reaches Climax in ‘‘Cymbeline’’
Continued from Page 1

was off to a start, a career to
which perhaps the highest compli-

ment was paid in 1945. ‘Mrs.
Manning’s singing is indescrib-
able.”

Undergraduates were energetic,
too: Juniors gave an annual Ban-
ner Show after which they pre-
sented the freshmen with their
class banner, and a Supper Show,
after which, logically enough, they
gave a farewell banquet to the
seniors, Sophomores and seniors
gave formal plays, usually cos-
tume dramas or period pieces, since
roles requiring contemporary male
dress were “discouraged” and rid-
ing breeches were the only trous-
ers allowed at rehearsals. Fresh-
man show was much the same, but
no male spectators were allowed.

‘Casts, of course, were all female
even after class shows were aban-
doned in favor of varsity drama in
1925. It was not until 1985 that
we read of Haverford men in Bryn
Mawr plays. This innovation, made
first in the “Swan,” was greeted
with acclaim even though the lead-
ing lady was “never at home in
her part ... and was the ‘swan
who should glide gracefully over
the waters’ but never touch the
shore.”

Before Goodhart was built in
1928, plays were always given in
the Gym on a rickety stage has-
tily erected for the occasion. The
spectators sat in folding chairs or
dangled their feet from the run-
ning track, while an armchair in
the center of the front row was
reserved for Miss Thomas.

‘Miss Thomas was self-appointed
critic to every play. On “If I Were
King” her comment ran: “The
scenery was charming... the cos-
tumes also were exactly right. I
only hope they were not very ex-

pensive ... You were fifty very
healthy strapping good - looking
girls.”

Illustrious alumnae often made
drama headlines. Mrs. Manning,
of course. And then Miss Lucy
Martin Donnelly, head of the Eng-
lish Department, says of Cornelia
Otis _Skinner: “As Sir _Jasper
Thorndyke . . . Her nonageniarian



decreptitude was remarkable...
The death scene was particularly
fine...” Emily Kimbrough, too,
is recorded as having given “quite
an astonishing performance, from
a dramatic as well as a terpsi-
chorean point of view, in her in-
terpretation of Silenus... ”

Faculty shows have a somewhat
shorter though no less spectacular
history. In 1983 the show featured
“buxom belles and creatures .. .
whom I can scarcely call gentle-
men . -’ and an embarrassed
NEWS wréte: “Dr. Watson and
Mrs. Nahm shared the honors as
a. persecuted couple. Their postur-
ings were strikingly effective and
nothing if not explicit.”

Production has always been full
of adventures: there was the time
Miss McBride was stage manager
for a show in which a sack of gold
had to be dragged across the stage;
inadvertently someone had filled
it with leaves beforehand. “I had
hoped it would chink,” says the
President ruefully, but apparently
the audience thought it was a sack
of dollar bills. Realism rose to its
heights in Cymbeline done in 1934.
The decapitated head was brought
on decorated with strings of red!
darning wool to simulate dripping
gore. The effect must have been
unusual, since Miss Donnelly had
a fit of hysterics and fell out into
the aisle.

Present day drama at Bryn
Mawr approaches the professional
in a manner undreamed of in the
old days. Energetic stage crews
make elaborate sets — actresses
strive for polish and finish — we
even write our own plays. But as
Theresa Helburn, ’08, said many
years ago to a Bryn Mawr audi-
ence: “There is nothing like play-
writing ...a glorious game...
a delightful avocation ...I would
never advise anyone to go into it
unless she has ... some other job.”



Compliments
of the
Haverford Pharmacy
Haverford











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Dresses formerly 15 — 49.95 now 5 — 20
(all sales final)

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652 LANCASTER AVENUE
- BRYN MAWR, PA.

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en]

Continued frobm Page 1

on behind.”
Another NEWS item:
“When Dr. Watson rose to

speak, we were half disappointed,
half pleasantly surprised. For he
looked so human, so very natural
and like everyone else... .”

President Taft often.
Bryn Mawr was visited also by
Belgian royalty, by Mrs. Roose-
velt and Anna Lord Strauss, by
Frances Perkins. In 1934, Ger-
trude Stein, explaining her con-
tention that a rose is a rose is a
rose, pointed out to an enraptured
audience that if you just keep on

repeating it, you finally get at the
ES i as

Amy Lowell, coming to read her
poetry, lived completely .up to
legend: “If you don’t like it,’ she

came

Amy Lowell Keeps Loaded Pistol on Desk; R. Tagore Arrives
In A Brown Bengal Robe; Millay Smiles From Olympian Heights



sat “hiss; if you do, applaud; but
for God’s sake, do something.” Re-
ported the NEWS:

“Miss Lowell’s working hours
are at night, because the tele-
phones bother her in the daytime.
She keeps a loaded pistol on her
desk in case of burglars, and goes
to bed at 5:00 A. M.... We were
unable to discover her particular
brand of cigar...

Mrs. Bertrand Russell was once
a warden in Pem. Alfred North
Whitehead, Arnold Toynbee came
to lecture. Rabindranth Tagore
arrived, “clad in his brown Bengal
robe, with a dark brown turban.”
|The first Flexner lecturer was the
|historian James Breasted, in 1930.
Ian Hay, William Butler Yeats,
Marianne Moore, Vaughan Wil-
liams, Stephen Spender, Robert
Frost, spoke here. Mr. Auden,
asked why he came to his classes





in blue jeans, replied, “I always
wear work clothes to work.”

Edna St. Vincent Millay also
caused something of a stir:

“First of all she wove a magic
charm with her long scarf; spell-
bound the audience watched her
unwind it from her neck and drape
it carefully over a chair.... One
moment she was intimate and the
next she was smiling critical
smiles from Olympian heights.
Some resented this. .. .”

T. S. Eliot read his poetry to a
full house, and remarked of such

a poem as Sweeney Among the

Nightingales: “I don’t suppose
anyone would call that obscure,”
yet admitted that it “might almost
be said to have no meaning at all.”

And then, of course, there was
the omnipresent NEWS which lis-
tened to them all and sometimes
had the honor to misquote them.







My cigarette?
Camels,

9
of course!



LS





Yes, Camels are SO MILD that in a coast-to-coast test
of hundreds of men and women who smoked Camels—

and only Camels—for 30 consecutive days, noted throat
specialists, making weekly examinations, reported

NOT ONE SINGLE CASE OF THROAT
IRRITATION DUE TO SMOKING CAMELS!
co nee



<< 5 PO En SSD SPO

ie esulhs, ki iatahws

Page Six

Little Deanepper Led
Memorable Childhood

Continued from Page 4
sometimes an elaborate (featuring
100 clams drunk from mixing
bowls - sitting on the floor), more
often a simple affair. They spend
their evenings in a variety of
ways, either in “peaceful domestic
bliss” or in three different kinds of
soci activity known as “my
peopfe and your people and volun-
tary enterprise.” “Free enter-
prise” includes movies, concerts,
shopping, glamorous food, and
once, night-clubbing at the Cov-
ered Wagon, where a man, only
somewhat drunk, came over to
their table and praised their splen-
did dancing.

The (Marshalls read in their
spare time—Mrs. Marshall is at
present engaged in historical re-
search, browsing in a survey of
English history (she finds it im-
possible to understand strip culti-
vation in Medieval England, but is
encouraged to find that the his-
tory department doesn’t, either),
her husband is reading the Bible
(‘He'll never finish, though,” she
says, “there are so many people in
Genesis”). Both of them are great
musicians, own a piano (“One of
us plays it rather well”) and come
from a magnificent musical back-
ground. Mr. Marshall at the age
of 12 was second substitute clar-
inet in his school orchestra (Fel-
low Musician Benjamin Britten
was the conductor); Mrs. Marshall
learned to play “Flow Gently,
Sweet Afton” and “Work, for the
Night is Coming” on the violin in
Duxbury, Mass., gave it up for
piano after the organist had got-
ten several verses ahead of her in
a church recital. They own a fine
record collection, with a jazz col-
lection of historical interest, are





There was at Bryn Mar
A Bryn Mawrtyr
Who to send Valentines
Thought she oughter
So to STOCKTON’S she fared
A habit she shared
With many a Bryn Mawityr’
daughter.

RICHARD
STOCKTON’S
LANCASTER AVENUE

an Ne







Down at the ears?

RUSH
TO

Hamburg Hearth

Lancaster Ave., Bryn Mawr, Pa.









Secretarial
Training

Typing, shorthand and
office procedures are your
entry permits into the
business world. Know
them thoroughly and
you’re employable any-
where, with a wide choice
of interesting jobs open
to you.

Peirce School is a tra-
dition with college women
preparing for a business
career. Call, write, or

J “telephone PEnnypacker
§-2100 for information on
Peirce Secretarial Courses.

PEIRCE

SCHOOL OF
ADMINISTRATION

1420 Pine Street
Philadelphia 2, Pa.







TH

E COLLEGE NEWS

Wednesday, January 18, 1950





Remarks Gay, Immortal
Enter Scholarly Portal

Continued from Page. 1
“Vice, disease, intemperance,
and crowded prisons will pass
away. This glorious future calls
for every Bryn Mawr girl to use
her opportunities. .. .”

(From the College NEWS) “On
Friday, taking Shakespeare for
the author of the week, Miss
Thomas criticized the one omis-
sion from his plays—the modern
woman; but added that it was not
Shakespeare’s; fault that in his
day he could not imagine a. mod-
ern Ophelia to match his Hamlet.
Next week the discussion will be
on Shelley.”

“The years of intellectual enjoy-
ment are limited only by the
tomb,”

In the NEWS: “Dear Editors: I
have a suggestion to make to all
intelligent, industrious, and rea-
sonably healthy Seniors who have
not yet made their plans for the
coming summer. The summer
after graduation is very apt to
be a great bore, and I propose,
as a sure means of enlivening it,
a course in the summer session
of the Columbia Law School... .”
(The NEWS—1910) “Crackling
flames greeted two students on
entering the studio tohave their

fond of Brahms, Mozart.

‘Hearty, horn - rimmed, well-
groomed Dorothy Marshall, when
asked her impression of the Half-
Century, replies “Well, uhh... ”
We have decided to publicize her
hideous attitude.







Senior pictures taken. Drawing
near they perceived tongues of
fire shooting up a velvet back-
drop. With calm precision they
summoned the photographer from
the dark room and told him his
place was on fire. He rang the
alarm. ‘We shall return,’ they said,
‘when it is put out.’.. .”

(And in 1916) “A new experi-
ment is now being tried, in allow-
ing students to run the College
Tea Room. Because the manage-
ment has never been satisfac-
CO cy”

Grazia Avitabile (Winner of the
Fanny Bullock Workman Fellow-
ship, summing up her private
life): “I eat, I sleep, I take show-
ers occasionally.”

Miss Applebee to Mrs. Nahm at
hockey practice: “Amram, you
cabbage!”

Mr. Auden: “Man is the most in-
telligent of all animals because he
is the most affectionate.”

The Class of 1927 (nominating
Dr. Chew to the Hall of Fame):
“Because of his whiskey tenor,
because, so far as we know, he
has been to the movies only once,
because he is a neo-Victorian and
always thoroughly chaperoned, be-
cause he is a generous and dis-
cerning critic of literature, and
finally because he has won the ad-
miration of ’27.”

(On beginning her talk on Nor-
man Thomas in Monday morning
Chapel) Millicent McIntosh: “I
feel like a priest calling us all to
an eleventh hour repentance.

Dr. Chew (in a review for the
NEWS): “Miss Bird and Miss



Greenough as the worldly-wise
Candles ... got off a good many
aphorisms of no very high candle-
power. For example, the remark
that ‘Poetry makes the hair grow
thinner’ is quite pointless and
Bryn Mawr, isn’t it?”

Mrs. Manning to Marie Queen
of the Belgians: “Bryn Mawr must
seem to Your Majesty very young
for an institution of learning: in
fact almost a mushroom growth.”

Miss de Laguna: “The culture
of the Eskimos of Prince William
Sound are particularly interesting
... + the windows of their smoke
houses flap on a still day simply
from the people chewing fish in-
side.”

Lt. J. C. Sloane (from the Pa-
cific).

“As I stood on the flying bridge
in the midst of it (sea) with!
the sheets of spray coming flying
through the dark: and the ship’s
shuddering and twisting her way
through the waves, I would have
given a good deal for a chance to
sit quietly behind my desk in the
Library and grade a few long pa-
pers . 7!

And Dr. Herben (having finish-
ed outlining the material to be
covered in his English Lit. Class):
“And so, like Lady Godiva near-
ing the end of her ride, we are
approaching our clothes.”







COME, ONE AND ALL!
SEE OUR PRICES FALL!
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poyce lewis

Lancaster Avenue |







New Social Patterns

Change Self-Gov. Rules

Continued from Page 2
Common Room sat on the top step
of Taylor with Miss Lang, and
made crude remarks about ‘the
Bryn Mawr ankle. However, he
admired Miss Lang’s ankles, she
says, almost to the point of excess.

During this’ period the now de-
funct Lantern led a crusade to
abolish all rules. “They were the
literati, the avant-garde very ec-
centric.”,; Self-Gov won, but con-
ceded smoking anywhere on camp-
us. The ’Lantern had exhausted it-
self in the struggle and soon died.
“That was the day the stone urns
first appeared on campus. We
smoked pipes.”

The half-century year offers a
chance for a definitive and _ his-
torically memorable change in
rules. We suggest: cars for all,
smoking in the Library, more un-
married professors, breakfast in
bed, a chaser for every Nescafe,
and it would be nice to see those
air-raid wardens back again.





Smart New Hair Cut
$1.50 at

RENE MARCEL

850 Lancaster Ave.
Bryn Mawr 2060









/







At MARQUETTE and Colleges

PAT O’BRIEN

Famous Marquette Alumnus, says:

“Chesterfields are Milder. At the end of
a long day at the studios, no matter how
many I’ve smoked, Chesterfields leave
a clean, fresh taste in my mouth. It’s the
only cigarette I’ve found that does that.”

REL

and Universities throughout
the country CHESTERFIELD is

the largest-selling cigarette.*

Yy f Cr

STARRING

IN

hi - ,

JOHNNY ONE EYE
A BENEDICT BOGEAUS PRODUCT
EASED THRU UNITED ARTIST

—— Theyte MULDERL Theyre TOPS/















[WM AMERICAS COLLEGES
= WITH THE TOP MEN [IN SPORTS
WITH THE HOLLYWOOD STARS