You and I The you of you is what the I of me Sees in that soul-light of your eyes Which sometimes breaks through mist to seek its prize, 01' in a joy-clear pool of gladness lies. The you of you is what the I of me Feels in that pressure of your hand Which answers surely all my weak demand With... Show moreYou and I The you of you is what the I of me Sees in that soul-light of your eyes Which sometimes breaks through mist to seek its prize, 01' in a joy-clear pool of gladness lies. The you of you is what the I of me Feels in that pressure of your hand Which answers surely all my weak demand With words unspoken, for you understand. The you of you is what the I of me Hears in the loved tones of that voice Which, singing, speaks, and, speaking, sings those choice, Aureate words, that make my soul rejoice. The you of you is what the I of me Finds in that wonder of your face Which holds the tranquil light by which I trace The lowly beauty of your spirit’s grace. The you of you is what the I of me Knows in that beating of your heart Which makes my own with throbbing pulses start, For we are two, yet each of each is part. GRACE JENSEN, ’33. Show less
22 THE DIAL studentshadtochoptheirownwood. Hemreminded of Rolvaag’s grand phrase, "There were giants in the earth in those days.” the soap boxes; a row of mirrors of various shapes and dimensions; a worn strip of linoleum on the floor. That was all. And yet, what a pleasure it was to get down... Show more22 THE DIAL studentshadtochoptheirownwood. Hemreminded of Rolvaag’s grand phrase, "There were giants in the earth in those days.” the soap boxes; a row of mirrors of various shapes and dimensions; a worn strip of linoleum on the floor. That was all. And yet, what a pleasure it was to get down there in the morning and to talk lightly and jokingly with the rest of the fellows before beginning the day’s work. That was one of the things he liked best of all—-liv- ing with so many young men, associating with them, be- ing friendly with them. It was fun to have them come into one’s room to chat a while or to sing lustily while someone played the old, wheezy organ. What a grand feeling it was to be alone and independent, an equal among equals, a man among men. . . . Roger leaned back in his chair and looked out across the green campus. A sense of deep contentment swept over him as he watched the vast, fiery sun sink slowly behind the gables of West Hall. J OHN STENSVAAG, ’36. Despair. . . Gray dust of pain That burned itself to ashes, Thus. Pale remnant of A crimson hope that flashes Once, Like roseate fire, burning, yearning, Across life’s sky— To flame and die. GRACE JENSEN, ’33. Show less
THE DIAL 15 where he could see the top of the desk. When he saw the destruction the ants had made, he gave a gesture of des- pair and shouted, ‘Hae, baba! Bookos! Bookas!’ The little fellows had made a rather thorough job of that con- fession. We had the beginning of it, but there was no... Show moreTHE DIAL 15 where he could see the top of the desk. When he saw the destruction the ants had made, he gave a gesture of des- pair and shouted, ‘Hae, baba! Bookos! Bookas!’ The little fellows had made a rather thorough job of that con- fession. We had the beginning of it, but there was no signature.” “Word spread throughout the court that the confes- sion had been eaten by the bookos. The simple aborigines who had been brought in to Witness against Kalu abso- lutely refused to testify. They said the Spirits were with Kalu. He could not be guilty. More afraid of the Spirits than of man, they admitted that they had been bribed by the vakil to appear against Kalu. I questioned the boy, and he protested that he had been attacked in his house and had been forced to sign a paper, an hour before the sirdars came to take him away to jail.” “I gave that vakil a bit of my best, both in English and in Hindustani, and told him I would take steps to have him disbarred from practice. He merely looked up at me with a bland smile, and asked, ‘Who can appear for the prosecution, when the gods appear for the de- fendant ?’ ” “A week later Kalu’s wife reappeared. She had sud- denly decided to visit some relatives in a distant village in the jungle.” ~ The old Commissioner shook off the ashes from his cigar and pointed toward the tennis screen. “I have a great respect for bookos. The gods send them.” BERNHARD A. HELLAND, ’18. Show less
8 .___THE DIAL TheNorMandononeformysefl.whiehhedid.and,u hemiwiththegmtestpleuun. He said he had many personal friends in Minneapolis. among whom he mentioned Kristofer Jansen. He asked me to tender them his kind regards. Ind in order to save time I take the liberty to do so through The North. J.... Show more8 .___THE DIAL TheNorMandononeformysefl.whiehhedid.and,u hemiwiththegmtestpleuun. He said he had many personal friends in Minneapolis. among whom he mentioned Kristofer Jansen. He asked me to tender them his kind regards. Ind in order to save time I take the liberty to do so through The North. J. J. Snowmen». Munich, March 18. 1890. Stanza... I did not seek. Love came to me At evening, in the place of prayer. Its birth was pain and ecstasy— The first wild flutterings of a bird Before its beating wings have stirred The pathless air. GRACE JENSEN, ’33. i gi [W3 - Show less
THE DIAL 5 We are very much puzzled by the “Button Moulder” in “Peer Gynt.” What is meant by that character? “You may take him for a common adventurer.” Would it be beneficial to abolish the state church in Europe? “Yes, it would be just as beneficial for Europe as for America. It would introduce... Show moreTHE DIAL 5 We are very much puzzled by the “Button Moulder” in “Peer Gynt.” What is meant by that character? “You may take him for a common adventurer.” Would it be beneficial to abolish the state church in Europe? “Yes, it would be just as beneficial for Europe as for America. It would introduce more honesty and truth into the different relations of life.” Some Scandinavian-Americans try to maintain their language, customs, etc., as long as possible in America, while others are trying to become Americanized as fast as possible. What is your opinion on that subject? “They will naturally become Americans at all events. Even when a German settles in a Scandinavian country he and his descendants become Scandinavians; the Scan- dinavians in America will undergo a similar change still more easily.” By what means may the Scandinavians be saved from being swallowed up by their stronger neighbors, the Rus- sians and the Germans? “It is unthinkable that the powers should disarm under the present circumstances, for no one dares take the lead. Still I do not think any war will give Russia or Germany a chance to swallow up the Scandinavian nations in such a manner that the latter will lose their national existence. In my opinion the different nations of Europe will some day form a league or union some- what similar to the United States, and in that case not only the Scandinavians but also the other nations would be ‘swallowed up’ by the union.” - What do you think of the last elections in Germany? “There are so many parties that it is difficult to fore- see the practical results. The government may secure a majority on a certain question by means of one combi- nation, or another by means of a different combination. The gains of the Socialists is what might be expected, for the masses are becoming more and more independent by learning to think for themselves.” Show less
THE DIAL 19 very small and wondered if she could run down again without saying her piece. All at once she caught sight of mother’s face smiling and nodding to her. Clara forgot the big church, the crowds of people, her shaky knees. Why, this was just like speaking at home. Now she must remember... Show moreTHE DIAL 19 very small and wondered if she could run down again without saying her piece. All at once she caught sight of mother’s face smiling and nodding to her. Clara forgot the big church, the crowds of people, her shaky knees. Why, this was just like speaking at home. Now she must remember to speak “loudly and clearly.” Almost of their own accord the words seemed to come: “Glory to God in the Highest, on earth peace, good- will toward men.” Clara sat down again in a glow of satisfaction. Moth- er had looked so pleased when she had finished. Clara knew Father would be pleased too. MARGARET STEEN, ’37. Myself I am and have been, since the first hair came out of my head, one of those little red-headed, freckle—faced boys whom so many make the object of their jests. Being one of them, I have to live up to the many general character- istics they have. You, as well as ninety-nine percent of the people, have heard the red-heads tell how they dislike their hair. Well, they are telling a falsehood usually referred to as a “little white lie.” Of course, there are a few who actually are disappointed with that rusty color, but the large majority of them are proud of it. It is the truth, however, that we dislike hearing our- selves referred to as being quick-tempered. Many people say it is the truth that hurts. Personally, I am a little doubtful of that statement in this case. It is also said that we are stubborn, in fact, extremely stubborn. I have often during these nineteen short years Show less
12 THE DIAL was fortunate in stepping right into the household of the former magistrate, who had just gone home on long leave. You remember old Staley 1’" he asked nodding to- ward me. “He was not so old at that time, but he al- ready had acquired his liking for the aboriginals. All his servants,... Show more12 THE DIAL was fortunate in stepping right into the household of the former magistrate, who had just gone home on long leave. You remember old Staley 1’" he asked nodding to- ward me. “He was not so old at that time, but he al- ready had acquired his liking for the aboriginals. All his servants, except Abdul, his Muslim cook, were Santals. Staley always contended that they were more faithful. though he admitted that they were of a slower turn of mind than their Aryan neighbors." Several of the younger officials, who had heard Steph— enson’s voice through the window, came out and joined our group. “My attention was drawn to a stalwart young San- tal whom Staley had hired to assist the gardener. He seemed to be brighter than the average, and upon inquiry I discovered that he had learned to read and write fairly well, there at the Zila school. Sometimes while the gar- dener was away, I would see him take a small book from his shirt pocket, and sit down in a bit of shade to read. I grew fond of the boy, and never mentioned his little trick to the gardener. He should really have gone on to school; in fact, I was on the point of talking to him about it.” The mali I had called came up with a tin of kerosene and poured it liberally down the ant holes. I saw that his lips moved as he worked. He was no doubt telling those ants what kind of people their ancestors had been. “Yes, he should have gone on to school,” repeated the Commissioner. “But then some village woman with a marriageable daughter fed him a mess of rice with a who- knows-what kind of potion in it, and the end of the mat- ter was that he married the girl. I used to see her around the compound sometimes, picking up fallen twigs for fuel. A pretty little girl she was, and for all I could see, very industrious. They seemed to get on very well together.” “One morning, some months later, Kalu, for that was his name, came in to my office. A glance at him showed that he was all upset. He threw himself down, clasped Show less
THE DIAL 25 Peter returned to Platonia the following year as a sophomore. Again he was immersed in football. But this year his interest in literature was more noticeable. By what he termed a stroke of fortune, he was elected editor if the newly organized literary magazine. Young men interested in... Show moreTHE DIAL 25 Peter returned to Platonia the following year as a sophomore. Again he was immersed in football. But this year his interest in literature was more noticeable. By what he termed a stroke of fortune, he was elected editor if the newly organized literary magazine. Young men interested in literature and intellectual pursuits were the fellows with whom he cared most to associate. And though he knew nothing about literature, he was elected president of the P. E. L. literary society. All was not “collegian” and “rosy” for Peter, how- ever. His contact With these different activities and their programs created a problem for him. What were his real interests? Were they predominantly athletic or literary? He asked himself: “Am I really justified in spending my time and energy so lavishly on the game of football? The fans, the newspapers, championship ban- quets, and all the ‘ballyhoo’ folks tell me, ‘Of course you are’! But do they know what they’re talking about? I didn’t come here to be converted into a professional actor, nor to burn up three hours daily in chasing about a field, purposely or otherwise. I can get adequate exercise with- out having it on such a grand scale. “N 0, I’m no longer going to waste time in that man- ner. I’ll pursue activities that harmonize with my other interests. Football is of the past!” So Peter’s gridiron career was stabbed to the heart by Peter’s own hand. is * * Three years passed before school was again resumed for Peter. During that interval he had answered the ancestral urge to see “life and the world.” This adven- turing had made him a confectionary clerk, a drug clerk, a sailor, a teacher, and whatnot. Nevertheless, the com- pass he used brought his ship back to Platonia. Most of Peter’s former schoolmates were graduated. Of the few that remained was Marvin. Peter liked Mar- vin. So one evening when Marvin asked him, “Just What did you derive from your travels?” Peter promised that, Show less
Dependencies Rivers are mighty. And yet they flow Down to the deep am, Where they must go. The mighty ocean Reeds sun and moon. By whom it is drawn, By night or noon. The earth and the sea, The moon and the sun, With each other in tune, Their courses run. At the center due, Encompassing all,... Show moreDependencies Rivers are mighty. And yet they flow Down to the deep am, Where they must go. The mighty ocean Reeds sun and moon. By whom it is drawn, By night or noon. The earth and the sea, The moon and the sun, With each other in tune, Their courses run. At the center due, Encompassing all, Pulsatimw of power Aye rise and fall. Of the whole plan, No mind can tell; But that it is good, The heart knows well. The heart has been told: I And many have heard, From days of old, The life-giving Word. Show less
THE DIAL What do you think of the prohibition of the liquor tramc? “There is something objectionable about all such com- pulsory measures. It compels people to abstain. but it does not do away with their desire to drink. and therefore it does not make them better. Only that which a person does of... Show moreTHE DIAL What do you think of the prohibition of the liquor tramc? “There is something objectionable about all such com- pulsory measures. It compels people to abstain. but it does not do away with their desire to drink. and therefore it does not make them better. Only that which a person does of his own free will is of any account." What do people here think of Dellinger?‘ “Among scholars and the higher classes he was highly respected on account of his great learning; but common people do not know much about him.” How are you satisfied with the manner in which your works are received in America? “I am very much satisfied. indeed. The Americans treat me with great courtesy, speak highly of my works, send me any amount of papers containing criticisms on my works, etc.” Whom do you consider to be the greatest English poet? “Well, my acquaintance with the English poets is not thorough enough to justify me in passing such a judg- ment.” When I left he said he would be glad to answer some more questions in case I had any such to make and in- vited me to call again at eleven a. 1n. today. When I met him this forenoon he admitted that he was very busy with his next work, but declined to give any information on that subject. I immediately availed myself of his kindness and commenced to question him again as I did yesterday: Will the complete emancipation of women materially improve human society? “This question is so vast and difficult that I would not try to answer it in a few words only.” Does your family live here at present? ‘ Born February 28, 1799. died January 10. 1890. Professor of theolo at the University of Munich and the most learned Catholic theologian of h a time. He claimed that the popes have sometimes been mistaken. and on account of this heresy he was excommunicated trom the Roman Catholic Church. [ a.» A -~ 1; .. .A 1.. .5 4-. i: ‘ -.- Jr'- -*‘r‘ Show less
THE DIAL 13 my feet, and started to wail. ‘Saheb,’ he moaned, ‘she is gone. I cannot find her. All yesterday I searched for her, but I cannot find her.’ ” The old Commissioner stopped to take a drink. Even with the monsoon breeze, the eve- ning was sultry. “I told him to get up on his feet and let... Show moreTHE DIAL 13 my feet, and started to wail. ‘Saheb,’ he moaned, ‘she is gone. I cannot find her. All yesterday I searched for her, but I cannot find her.’ ” The old Commissioner stopped to take a drink. Even with the monsoon breeze, the eve- ning was sultry. “I told him to get up on his feet and let me have the whole story. But there did not seem to be much of a tale. He said he had awakened in the morning to find her missing. She had not taken away any of her extra clothes, nor any money. He had visited her home and had inquired among her relatives, but had found no trace of her. I dismissed the poor fellow with a. promise that I would instruct the sirdars in the district to be on the watch for her.” The Commissioner continued, “The incident had drop— ped from my mind, when one evening, about a week later, the head gardener came in and told me that Kalu had been arrested and was on trial for the murder of his wife. His father-in-law had sworn the complaint against him and he had been lodged in jail. It was rumored around the town that Kalu had signed a confession admitting his guilt, and it seemed there were witnesses ready to ap- pear against him. Everything considered, Kalu seemed to be in danger of being sent to the Andaman Islands. The documents in the case had been deposited with the court and the case was on the calendar for the next day.” “ ‘Case Court Number Four hogea,’ ” added the gar- dener, as he left. “Court Number Four was Bipin Babu’s, but since it was a case of alleged murder, I knew it would automa- tically be transferred to my court. I did not relish con- demning the poor fellow to the Andamans for life. But that is part of your job, you know.” The old man sud- denly became grave, as though he remembered a whole host of unpleasant cases where duty had compelled the difficult. « “After chota hazrz' the next morning,” he continued, “the chaprassi brought me the court calendar for the day. I glanced down the list. The first four cases were Show less
T H E D I A L 29 “What was it that almost found expression a moment ago? . . . Oh, yes, I was wondering what I could say Pla- tonia did for me? . . . Could a school with shortcomings galore really do anything for someone so lethargic and willful and self-centered as I? . . . Well, yes, I believe... Show moreT H E D I A L 29 “What was it that almost found expression a moment ago? . . . Oh, yes, I was wondering what I could say Pla- tonia did for me? . . . Could a school with shortcomings galore really do anything for someone so lethargic and willful and self-centered as I? . . . Well, yes, I believe it did: It certainly stimulated me to grow, and . . . hm . . . yes, it did one thing more. It afforded me at least an op- portunity to become a man.” * t * The ship continued to hurl its way forward. En- circling waves leaped toward the heavens. But oblivious to these sat a voyager on the upper aft deck, his moist eyes fixed on the horizon. ABNER BATALDEN, ’35. Show less
4 THE DIAL one would never get tired of looking at those majestic temples. To make the whole figure still more imposing. he has rich silvery whiskers and his hair looks as if ar- rayed for battle. When he found out that I represented The North he begged me to excuse his absence at eleven o'clock: ... Show more4 THE DIAL one would never get tired of looking at those majestic temples. To make the whole figure still more imposing. he has rich silvery whiskers and his hair looks as if ar- rayed for battle. When he found out that I represented The North he begged me to excuse his absence at eleven o'clock: “The representative of another American paper was here and he wanted me to go to the photographer and sit for a pic- ture, and I had to accommodate him.” I was glad to find at least one man in Europe who translates “not at home" by “not at home.” After having invited me to take a seat he asked: “Well, is there anything in particular that you want to know?" Then questions and answers followed in rapid succes- sion for a few minutes. I must admit, however, that it is almost impossible to state the answers as briefly as he gave them; for I never heard a man say so much in so few words. From your “Ghosts” and “A Doll’s Home" many peo- ple seem to draw the conclusion that you advocate free love. Isn’t that a misunderstanding of those works? “Formerly I tried time and again to have that mis- understanding corrected through the papers; but the cor- rections were also persistently misinterpreted, and now I have made up my mind not to try to explain myself on W that subject through the papers. I shall simply leave those works to the critics in the hope that they will be able to explain them.” Some time ago a certain Schmidt wrote a little book in which he criticised your works very severely. Has anybody refuted him? “I think someone in Dresden has taken him to task; but so much is written about my works nowadays that I do not attempt to read it all. That Schmidt is an Hun- garian who studies philosophy in Berlin. He may be versed in abstract philosophy; but he neither appreciates nor understands poetical works.” I r a} ‘fi . Show less
24 THE DIAL composition, which included some orientation, did he pore over. But when grades for the first quarter were dis- tributed he received none lower than in composition. "80 that’s the way one gets credit for his work,” he thought. “Well, they can keep their high marks; I would have liked... Show more24 THE DIAL composition, which included some orientation, did he pore over. But when grades for the first quarter were dis- tributed he received none lower than in composition. "80 that’s the way one gets credit for his work,” he thought. “Well, they can keep their high marks; I would have liked an A, but I know what I received from that course.” Dating from that experience, marks were to him just teachers' prejudices. But that composition teacher did give Peter some thing. He startled him, and challenged him, and intel- lectually stabbed him till the boy began thinking. He almost succeeded in making a man out of a boy. The same he did for others, and this group soon demanded an outlet for their mental vibrations. Hence, the “Ren- dezvous”—a literary discussion group, the “Quill”—a literary magazine, and many literary societies. These activities, and the life they represented, soon became the breath of daily life to Peter. He threw him- self into them as though life were to be found thereby. Convictions as to how these affairs should be conducted became vivid. So did convictions as to how they should not be conducted. These attitudes were so much a part of him, that they came forth just as pointedly some years later. On one of those later occasions he sorrowftu re- called the decline of the literary society movement at his Alma Mater: “Those societies made a vigorous beginning, but they didn’t arm themselves against attack. Soon a tropical temper appeared, one that wasn’t easily recognized. He eased the life of those swept by the tide into the literary societies. Among his victims this temper changed the center of mind activity from the brain to the stomach, stimulating and nourishing the new ‘brain’ with nothing more than coffee and cakes. Abandoned, the old mind- center degenerated, while the new one demanded ‘bigger and better’ social gatherings, and less and less time and interest in ‘highbrow stuff.’ Finally all signs of mind activity disappear .” t i i 1-9 a 3' a.» a 's 1- -‘ Show less
Reviews Duranty Reports Russia. By Walter Duranty. Viking Press. 401 pages. 1934. It it refreshing to read a book about Russia which neither points with pride nor views with alarm. Walter Duranty, Russian correspondent of the New York Times, gives a reporter’s account of an eventful decade in the... Show moreReviews Duranty Reports Russia. By Walter Duranty. Viking Press. 401 pages. 1934. It it refreshing to read a book about Russia which neither points with pride nor views with alarm. Walter Duranty, Russian correspondent of the New York Times, gives a reporter’s account of an eventful decade in the Soviet Union. In a series of news stories for the Times Duranty tells of events, some momentous, some apparently insig- nificant, which together seem to reflect the Russian scene as a whole. With deft strokes he pictures types and in- dividuals and almost makes us understand them, though they are so different. Duranty’s Russians seem more real than Tolstoy’s or Dostoievsky’s. The great famine, the first communist christening, the homeless waifs of Moscow’s streets; they are all pic- tured with vivid simplicity. There is the scene of the atheistic parade and a devout peasant in the crowd mur- muring, “God be merciful, they know not what they do.” Lenin, Trotsky, Stalin, become more than names as Duranty pictures their influence on the people and their personalities as revealed in private conversations. Interpretive articles first printed in the Times Sun— day magazine are republished in the book to supplement and clarify the news stories. Russia is still very foreign to most of us, and any interpretation as authoritative as Duranty’s undoubtedly is, should be welcome. Duranty Reports Russia is a grand book and I liked it immensely. Duranty introduced me to modern Russia. MAURICE HELLAND, ’33. Show less
"Bookos” We had just finished watching the finals in the Mon- soon Tennis Tournament at the Bhagalpur Club and were sitting on the veranda waiting for the khansama, to bring us our ices. Russel, the Survey Officer, and I had just come up from Calcutta that morning and had put in a hot day over the... Show more"Bookos” We had just finished watching the finals in the Mon- soon Tennis Tournament at the Bhagalpur Club and were sitting on the veranda waiting for the khansama, to bring us our ices. Russel, the Survey Officer, and I had just come up from Calcutta that morning and had put in a hot day over the reports. The evening monsoon breeze was just springing up along the river, giving re- lief from the “prickly-heat” weather we had been hav- ing all day. The Divisional Commissioner, Ronald Steph~ enson, I. C. S., dropped down in a long chair and settled his feet on the rests. “A bit of luck for your Survey Oflice, Russel, that O'Neil won the finals this year,” said the Commissioner, between puffs on the cigar he was trying to light. A Santa] malz' strolled past, and I called his atten- tion to the white ants just coming up the post of the ten- nis backstop. In another hour they would have the cor— ner well eaten away. The Commissioner flicked the ashes from his cigar, and I saw a swift smile pass over his face, a signal that he recalled some story out of the past. So we waited for him to begin. “Those white ants,” commenced the old civilian, “re- mind me of an incident from the second year I was in India. At that time I was a Deputy Magistrate, stationed at Jamtara. You remember Jamtara, in the midst of the Santa] country. We had many interesting experiences with those aborigines, but the incident of the white ants was one of the best.” The khansama brought us our ices, and we settled down to listen. All members of the Bhagalpur listened when old Stephenson told stories from his early days, for not only was he our superior officer, but his thirty- year-old stories were as mellow as the thirty-year-old Scotch he favored. “When I first came out to Jamtara, as a bachelor, I Show less
THE DIAL 7 “We are only three; my wife who happens to be a little indisposed, my son Sigurd, who is here on a visit just now, and myself.” Do you like to live here in Munich? “Yes, Munich is a very pleasant place to live in.” Are you satisfied with the English and German trans- lations of your... Show moreTHE DIAL 7 “We are only three; my wife who happens to be a little indisposed, my son Sigurd, who is here on a visit just now, and myself.” Do you like to live here in Munich? “Yes, Munich is a very pleasant place to live in.” Are you satisfied with the English and German trans- lations of your works? “There are several translations in those languages; some are good, some bad, some indifferent. Camelot’s English edition is good. Reclam’s cheap German edition (each work costs from 5 to 15 cents) contains the best translations in that language. Reclam has published my works in three neat volumes ($1.10) and the fourth volume will be out in a few days. He has done very much to spread my works in Germany, and his editions have a large sale. Fischer, in Berlin, publishes the finest and most expensive German editions of my works.” What do you mean by “B¢jgen” in “Peer Gynt?” “I cannot answer such questions any more. I am simply overwhelmed with letters asking me to explain this and that in my works, and if I were to answer them it would take up all my time.” Are the Catholics more prejudiced against your works than the Protestants? “No, as far as I and my works are concerned there is no difierence whatsoever between Catholics, Protes- tants, Jews, infidels, etc. On the whole, religious preju- dices cut a small figure down here.” Do the Americans or the English seem to appreciate your works the most? “I don’t know.” He then showed me his working-room which fronts on Canal street. It is about 8x12 feet, and rather plain- ly furnished, its most prominent features being a pic- ture of himself painted some twelve years ago and an old style heating stove which looks pretty big for such a small room. Finally I mustered up impudence enough to ask him to sign his name on one photograph for the editor of ~‘ " , nt'mm»w; arm-w nun-run. Nma'twmm—i—amv» Show less
THE DIAL 11 tion to their squaws to recede into the back- grOund, and now the peace dance changes to one of war. Chief Black Foot steps into the foreground and begins to speak. In a deep, sonorous voice he tells of his forefathers, of their conquests and brave deeds. From his attentive listeners... Show moreTHE DIAL 11 tion to their squaws to recede into the back- grOund, and now the peace dance changes to one of war. Chief Black Foot steps into the foreground and begins to speak. In a deep, sonorous voice he tells of his forefathers, of their conquests and brave deeds. From his attentive listeners come low sounds of approval and contentment. But listen! The chief speaks louder and more vehemently now. He reminds his tribe of how they have been forced out of their hunting grounds; of the fact that only a few children of this once mighty tribe remain; and that soon the great name, Black Foot, will be known no more. The faces Which before were listless now become stern and tense with anger, and these sturdy warriors grip their tomahawks firmly and madly as if they Were ready to dash out on the war-path. We have seen pictures of fierce-looking Indians, for in- stance those who stood about the captured Cap- tain John Smith waiting for the chief’s or- ders for the prisoner’s dispatch. Here are real Indians waiting for the significant little nod from their chief. He gives it, and the dance of war is on. There is a general and wild yell- ing, a swinging of hatchets and tomahawks, and a moaning 0f squaws. But it lasts not long. Why all this? There is no battle to fight. It is true they are captives, but their small‘ number forbids action. And as a fierce tiger that in vain has attempted to break the bars, they become quiet again, squat down about the fire, and watch the dying flames. Soon the last embers have died away. All is quiet; darkness closes in upon the scene, and we see no longer the Black Foot Indians. —~9 g/4 Goverlet of QSnow Abner Batalden, ’31 Fleecy and fluffy garment of white, Sparkling and glittering brightly for me! Thou art nature’s, light and fair, Covering the “Square”. As soft and tender as Mother’s delicate breast !— Rest thou, protect, and warm All that is bare and dreary and chilled, And sleeps in the “Square”! Calm and soothe—O, friend—my unrest. Though silent murmurings or luring falsities Would dull or darken my heart; Brighten me also ! As white, as pure, and as radiant too, I would wish my life !— Sparkling with the soul of beauty That meets my eye in the “Square”. Show less
@CSCI‘t %omance Beatrice Helland, ’31 It was night in the camp of the Tebu. A most beautiful night it was! As the moon rose it cast its beams ’mongst the tents and revealed dark figures talking quietly outside the doors. Hark! All faces were turned toward the east, from which direction soft music... Show more@CSCI‘t %omance Beatrice Helland, ’31 It was night in the camp of the Tebu. A most beautiful night it was! As the moon rose it cast its beams ’mongst the tents and revealed dark figures talking quietly outside the doors. Hark! All faces were turned toward the east, from which direction soft music was heard. As they waited breathlessly, a figure glided up to the entrance of one of the tents, perhaps the poorest, but the most neatly kept. The figure was recognized as that of young Hussein, son of the chief of the Tebu tribe. When he reached the tent, he dropped at the feet of Zehu, the only daughter of Wekil, an old sage. When he had sung a poem of love, as is the custom in the Libyan desert, Hussein pleaded with the young damsel, saying, “Dear Zehu, most beautiful of the daughters of the great desert, I pray you come and keep for me my tent, and cook for me my meals, and be my loving wife.” To these pleadings Zehu answered with a solemn shake of her head. Fain would she have answered, as her mother and grandmother be- fore her had done, with a little tune of consent and love; but with her great, sorrowful eyes cast down she murmured, “No, there is Father. I cannot leave him, for he has often said that I am his only joy since my Mother Maho depart- ed for the land of goodness. I must stay to cook the rice and keep the tent for him.” In dejection Hussein turned away, and Zehu went to her straw mat to weep away the hours of darkness. Next morning Wekil said to Zehu, “Tomor- row, my daughter, is the day of festival. I will go to the valley of Kufra and pick there sweet dates, that we may join in the merry-making.” “That, dear Father, you must not do,” re- plied Zehu, “for you grow old, and your limbs are no longer strong. But rather I will go to this place, for I am sturdy, and I have made the journey before.” “Very well, then, but make haste, that you may return before night.” The young girl set out for the valley, ten miles from her home, riding on her own camel. The sun was high in the heavens when she reached her destination, so she quickly picked several baskets of the delicious dates. Then she lunched, filled her water-bags, watered her camel, and started for home. As Zehu turned homeward she noticed the perfect stillness of the desert. Soon, however, a breeze sprang up which became gradually stronger until the fine desert sand rose in circles and whirled around her, enveloping her as a cloud and obscuring her path. She realized with a pang that she was lost in a sandstorm, the terror of the desert-dweller. Zehu, being a daughter of the desert, knew it was best to keep going steadily. Night came, and the frenzied girl realized that if her camel should stop they would be buried in the sand. But she had been taught as a child that the beast would plod patiently on in spite of the raging wind; so she clung to it, seeking to shield her body from the blast by wrapping a coarse robe tightly about herself. Zehu ate some of the dates, of which she had a plentiful supply, but dared not drink much water, for one cannot tell how long a desert sandstorm may last. In the meantime, news went around in the camp that the daughter of Wekil was lost. A council meeting was held and old Wekil spoke thus, “My daughter, my only joy in life, my Zehu, went this morning to the valley of Kufra to gather dates. She went alone, accompanied by her camel only. My possessions are few, ‘but I would gladly give up all to have her back. Oh, that I had the strength of youth once more, that I might brave the storm and save my Ichild! But this useless body is for me now only a'hindrance and a mockery. If there be a young man here, valiant of heart, who will brave the fierce storm of the desert and bring back my Zehu, [he shall have her for his Wife. Show less
