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76
THE MAROON TIGER
literature, and that what has been done is merely a step
to some real contribution the Negro might eventually
make. He gave a brief review of the most prominent
Negro novels and their writers, and predicted that when
the great American novel is written it will be a Ne
gro novel, and this will probably take place in about
twenty-five years.
Professor Harreld spoke on the Negro in Music. He
gave a brief history of the origin of Negro Music, show
ing how it started in Africa, and the influence of Negro
music on the music of other countries. In view of the
fact that folk music is that which expresses the spirit
of the group, the Negro should love and develop the
spirituals, and do more than merely sing them. In
closing, Mr. Harreld urged that we must recognize more
readily our singers and other musicians and give them
our heartiest support.
* -X- * *
A recent visitor to the chapel service was Miss Sue
Bailey, who has been a most active Y. W. C. A. worker
for several years. Miss Bailey gave a resume of her ex
periences while visiting various European countries. It
was interesting to note the interest which foreign stu
dents take in the Negro students. She asserted that
we have a two-fold contribution to make. First, we
have a certain gaiety or innate happiness. Next, we
have a gift of spirit. These we must share with every
one so that thev may become common and mutual.
-X- * * *
We were glad to have with us Mr. Jacobs, a native
of India, studying at Columbia University. Mr. Jacobs
is a student of race relations, and in his talk he em
phasized the value of world brotherhood. He said that
citizenship is world wide, and men must not think sim
ply in terms of their own nation. Lack of understand
ing is the chief cause of international difficulties and
when better understanding is brought about, wc shall
have a much better world in which to live.
Cream © 9 Wit
R. C. Hackney, ’31
He: “If I had known the lights would have been out
this long I would have kissed you.”
See: “Good heavens! Wasn’t that you?”
* * * *
Prexy: “Look out there, you just missed hitting that
man.”
Chauffeur: “Can t help it. How did 1 know he was go
ing to move?”
* * * *
Student: “Will you cash this $100 check for me?”
College Bursar: “Sorry we haven’t that much on
hand, but I’ll take you over and introduce you to the
manager of the cafeteria.”
* * * *
R. E. T.: “If I mailed a letter addressed to ‘The Dumb
est Man in Mobile,’ I wonder who they’d deliver it to?”
H. D. Me. (innocently): “They’d probably return
it to the sender.”
* * * *
Coach of Track Team (holding up tape) : “What do
you see now?”
J. R. 11. (out of breath): “Walk a mile, sir.”
* * * *
He: “You'd never think this was a second hand car.
would you?”
She: “No, it looks like you made it yourself.”
* * * *
Cashier: “There are two dollars missing from my
desk drawer, and no one but you and I have a key to
it.”
Office Boy: “Well, let’s each put a dollar back and
say no more about it.”
* * * *
Supt. of Sunday School: “After telling what kind of
people go to hell and explaining their torture now, can
any body in the class tell me where the men go that shoot
craps on Sunday.”
Willie: “Yes sir. They go down under the railroad.”
—C. B.
Judge (trying a prisoner) : “What’s your name, occu
pation and what are you charged with?”
Prisoner: “My name’s Sparks, I’m an electrician and
I’m charged with battery.”
Judge (not to be outdone): “Here Jailer, put this
Guy in a dry cell.”—C. B.
* * * *
Judge (to officer) : “How did you know this man was
drunk?”
Officer: “Well, your Honor, be dropped a penny in
the fire alarm and looked up at the city clock and said.
‘I’ve lost fourteen pounds,’ so you can form your own
conclusions.”—C. B.
* * * *
Staggering down the street a drunkard walks into
a telephone post. “Excuse me mister,” he said; still
walking he bumps into a fire plug and said, “Excuse
me, little boy;” still farther on be encounters a tree,
looses his balance and falls; “Well, I just sit here ’till
the crowd passes,” said he. -C. B.
* * * *
FROM THE SCRAP BOOK OF A FRESHMAN
Morehouse College, Atlanta. Ga.
March 20, 1929.
Sefronia my heart, my own loved and worshipped li 1
doll, my sweet angel with alluring eyes; my heart un
appeased, its longing desires, without ceasing beats
in vain for you. How cruel is this wretched fate, which
in its ruthless way, compels us to be apart.
From the pictures you see and the stories you hear, I
know you think that Morehouse is a place for one to
leisurely fit the sickly cares of life and to dream sweet
dreams of love. For me, this is not so, for being of
the lonesome type that 1 am, a melancholy atmosphere
often environs my heart and strange unrest fills my be
ing. Yet my mind cannot evade those most tender
thoughts of you as loving memory ever haunts me. When
I think of you. how strange a longing grasps my heart.
While awav from vou a dav seems eternity, vet thev