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THE CAMPUS MIRROR
WHO NEVER DID?
By Ai.ru a Taulf.y, H. S.
1 often look back now with a smile
at the comical picture we, a bunch of
school girls, must have made when
we were arriving in Atlanta for the
first time. No better example of hu
man spontaneity caused by the high
tension of the nervous system could
be found.
\\’e bad planned that nothing should
prevent us from looking our best when
we stepped off the coach at the sta
tion. So the porter was made our im
mediate objective for information.
“What time is it now?”
“Ten-fifty.”
“Er—how far did you say we were
from Atlanta? Eighty miles, did you
card, but I thought of nothing but
you, after be gave me your name.”
“What does he look like? Maybe
I know him.”
“Well, he is tall, brown—has nice
eyes. Nifty looking, I think.”
"I think 1 know him, but you must
be there to take me to him.”
“Yes, 1 will. T think another one is
coming. I must go.”
Soon the hostesses are on the front
porch again.
“Look! There goes John. I won
der who he is going to see.”
“Louise, I suppose.”
“No, he is going into Packard
Hall. Whom does he know over
there?”
say r
“Yes.”
“Did you say we were due into Atlanta at
eleven-fifty?” No answer.
“I think we’d better start now,” tuned in a
little girl in the rear, who bad been trying to
digest the essence of a “True Story Magazine
amid clicks of gum which she was chewing
rhythmically.
Evidently the suggestion was a common
opinion, for the rustling of paper, the moving
of hat boxes and valises from racks, the rush
to the dressing room and the constant inquiry
for “a peep in your mirror” told more plainly
than words could express the fact that we were
certainly going to be ready when the portci
yelled “Atlanta!"
A continual hubbub was kept up until all
were “safely” dressed and heads were peeping
out of the windows to get the first glimpse of
the city.
Soon we could see tall columns of smoke, like
heavy storm clouds, rising from the factories
high into the sky; we knew that the city of
our destination was not far.
“Mister, what time is it now? My watch
has stopped,” inquired the little chewing-gum
girl.
“Eleven forty-five,” was the gruff reply.
\Ve knew now for a certainty that we would
soon be at our journey’s end, and scrambling
and pushing into the aisles we formed a per
fect blockade.
Incidentally I glanced over my shoulder at a
lady who was calmly enjoying our great com
motion. I wondered why she wasn t getting
prepared. Poor thing. I laid it to her ig
norance.
One flag stop we passed; another, and still—
yes, another. Wouldn’t we ever reach At
lanta? Minutes became hours. Feet began to j
burn in new tan oxfords. Military heels felt
like French ones. Excitement died away, and
one by one we sat down disgusted. But the
“poor, ignorant” lady kept smiling.
My recollection from then on was rather
vague. I guess I must have slept until “At
lanta!" was fairly thundered into my ears.
“Wake up A , we are getting off.”
Soot and cinders were on my face and my
eyes were a blur of incomprehension. Every
body looked exhausted except the "poor ig
norant” lady. Trim and neat, calm and self-
possessed she was now ready to get off.
NEW YEAR
By Willie Barnett
With the ringing of bells and blowing of
whistles, old Father Time was ushered out
and the baby 1928 ushered in, bringing along
its new ideas, new resolutions and new hopes.
To many the new j'ear brought sadness,
and to others joys, while to some, unfor
tunately, it was simply another month.
This wise infant is horn to bringing an
other year full of unknown, undreamed of
cares, joys, failures, achievements—real
enough, all of them.
ADAM AND EVA
No, this is not the Garden of Eden story,
but a twentieth century tale, in which Adam
finds his paradise instead of losing it. Eva
—well, perhaps she helps Adam to find it.
The serpent is not to be found, and the ap
ple is merely incidental. But you will want
to watch Adam, for he has been gambling
in futures, his own as well as those of other
people.
OPEN HOUSE
By Beulah E. Cloud
Edith and Jane were hostesses for Open
House in one of the college halls. They
had made the reception room look as cozy
as a living room at home.
"It lacks only five minutes of 3,” said
Jane. “We must he at the door for the
first arrival. No shortcomings for us, aye?”
Someone must be first and here he is.”
“Good afternoon. Whom do you wish to
see ? ”
The young man fumbled in his pocket and
handed his card, which had a name written
below the printed one.
She read: “Miss Mary Joe.” and said:
“Come into the reception room and have
a seat. I’ll tell her you are here. Edith,
you entertain him while I get Mary?”
While the visitor, w'ho has been seated in
the reception room, is sensing the air of
welcome there, one hostess chats pleasantly
with him and the other climbs the stairs to
announce his arrival, to the proper person.
But that person did not expect a caller.
“Please, Jane, do tell me who he is?”
“I do not know. His name was on the
“Here comes Ben Boston with his
funny self.”
, “How do you do, Ben? You want to see
Miss Rally, do you not? I'll tell her you
are here.”
“That group of fellows is headed this way.
I’ll take care of the one with the gray hat."
“How do you do?”
“Is M iss Kathrinia Massey here?”
“No, she has gone to town. I don’t know
when she will return. Would you like to
wait? I am sorry she isn’t here. I’ll tell
her you called.”
“Here is Betty’s brother. I know she'll
be tickled pink. She is already in the re
ception room and that saves a trip upstairs?”
Jane escorted the brother into the recep
tion room. Betty greeted him warmly and
introduced him to her caller and to Mrs.
Seaton, the house mother. Mrs. Seaton talk
ed with the brother a short while before
Mary came and led her to another part of
the room to meet another caller. Betty,
her brother and her caller, soon had a live
ly conversation going. Then the brother
said: “Betty I’ve brought you some music
and there is one piece I like especially well.
Will you play it for me?”
“Yes, I think I know' what it is. It’s
‘My Blue Heaven,’ isn’t it?”
“You guessed it right.”
Betty asked her caller, Jack Monroe, to
sing the song. When he ended, she asked
the other young people in the room if they
would not like to sing some songs together.
After they had sung several, Betty said:
“I know a dandy game called ‘Magic Mu
sic.’ Do you wash to play it?” “Yes, yes,”
answered several voices at once. Each had
his turn and in some manner succeeded in
finding the place or thing that had been
touched. Mary suggested that they play
“Steal Liza Jane.” Mr. Boston, who never
could get a partner and had to be “it,” de
cided that he would rather play a game of
“wink.” Since he had mastered the art of
winking, it was easy for him to keep a girl
in his chair. Game after game was played
throughout the afternoon, which passed very
quickly.
Betty’s caller asked her if she would play
again for him. Louise, on hearing the mu
sic, cried: “Oh, let’s have a grand march