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Page 10 THE MAROON TIGER Collegiate dLowdown BURGLAR. SAVE MY VALISE! By Frank B. Adair. Jr. Some of the fellows returned to the campus this fall in grand style; there were those who motored, some came hv Pullman (both inside and outside the coaches), some hitch hiked, others came on bicycles, and—believe it or not—one mate told me he crawled back to save his shoes. Rut the prize for the most dramatic return must go to “Sheriff” Hall (That name! What foresight Miss Cooke must have had!) After a whole summer’s sojourn in New York, where they steal the band from your hat without removing the hat from your head, and a casualtyless trip back to Atlanta, there seems to have been nothing that “Sheriff” would find to do but have his bag containing all his valuables (which last word is used in its broadest sense) stolen right from under his nose. Here’s how it hap pened. I was awakened one morning by a rap on my door and a second later came to my feet at the sound of Rodriguez’ voice. He bad just returned with Hall from New York. “Come in oE man!” 1 said, opening the door. “The prodigal has come back.” “Why, hello!” Rod returned, extending his hand, “What! Hall’s bag’s gone!” Before I could meet the grasp, the smile which dec orated his first two words gave way to astonishment and “What!” came forth in distress. I sensed drama as Rod dashed from corner to corner in the lobby, and open-mouthed, I peered as far out of the door as 'twas best for a pajama-clad male to do so at that hour of the morning (about 7:00.) “As surely as I live, Hall’s been robbed!” Rod said excitedly. The drama was getting well underway now, for “Sher iff” himself had returned and discovered his mishap and was dashing about nonplussed and bawling, “Call the police—who saw the thief?”; then came Battle and Mrs. Eichelberger, and Professor Dansby, and Cage, and Franks, and Kennedy and Jones, and a trio of kids who had been playing on the campus. Avast! This was too much! I, too, must join the brigade, but on sec ond thought I recalled there was no role which a pa- jama-clad enthusiast might take, as much as it hurt me to forego the scramble. I suffered, though, for not quickly dressing myself and hurrying out, for soon the scurry moved westward down Wellborne Street and thence across Ashby. Luckily though for me, Mrs. Eichel berger, who had all the time been a devout participant, finished the chapter verbally; so I learned that one of the little fellows had yelled. “I saw him with it! I saw him with it running down that street.” Franks said he caught sight of the thief running in the direction of Well- borne Street. As quick as a flash “Sheriff” was follow ing him, and surely enough Frank knew his burglars, for an inquiry put to a lady at a nearby house com pleted the clue. Amid great trepidation she exclaimed, “Yas-suh, (—) come here wid dat bag and I run him 'way ’cause even bein’ he’s my boy I don’t tolerate no stealin’. But jes don’t y’all put him in jail, please.” More action. In less time than it takes to tell it, “Sheriff" was off in the direction indicated by the lady’s finger as she stood in the doorway shaking her head in agony from left to right. This time “Sheriff” was even swifter of foot—the dog and the fox! (with all due apologies to “Sheriff” for the part he played in the cast)—and it was not long before the dog (that word) had gained sufficient yardage to compel the fox to cast the bag under a deserted building and bid bon voyage to his pursuers. Out of breath, the “Sheriff” fell head long over his valise and the other dogs (apologies again) came tumbling after. “Sheriff" returned to his recently assigned room lout a fait fatigue after such calisthenics as he possibly had never before and began to live happily ever after (Who said “until the exams”?) I finished my handshake with Rod when I saw him some four hours later—what a handshake; four hours from the extension of the hand to the completion of the grasp! Page Mr. Ripley. THE STROLLER Hello everybody! Stroller speaking! After much con sideration and careful deliberation. I conclude that the activities of mortal beings are more to be marvelled at than to be understood. Yes, sir, it’s a funny business—this human behavior, Now just why Miss M. A. held a Y. M. C. A. meeting at her home on October 8, is beyond me. What’s the matter, Miss M. A.? Wires tangled? Perhaps a sign: “Come early and avoid the rush” would alleviate this situation. Critical, eh. what? Miss A. C. seems to have Morehouse well in hand. Quite frequently we find F. K., W. Me., M. H.. H. J.. et. al., at the old homestead. Go hard A—. Say, E. M., which fellow is the lucky fellow- -J. Y., G. B:. or J. B„ huh? Would-be tacklers who fain would stop “Blondie”— the Augusta flash—steal some of a certain co-ed’s copy righted tactics. Boy! does she drop him every day about 12:05—and how!! If C. B. means that he isn’t rocking the cradle any more, I wonder what Miss M. S. will do? It seems that Miss A. B. of A. U. is going over big with J. Y., J. B., and J. E. S.—the J’s have it; none other need apply. Yowsa! J. C. is keeping company now but why with B. S.’s flame? Answer me that! Chink and Jump W. are engaged in a battle of roses but the odds slightly favor the “wee one” since one on the rubber is worth ten on the leather. To whom it may concern—W. M. and E. S. no longer tete-a-tete at Yates & Milton. At the library instead. “Steubenville” J., you wouldn’t test your teeth at your friend’s (R. S.’s) expense; wouldja? Perhaps Miss E. H. can explain why W. R. sings the blues. Josh, are you on your p’s and q’s? Well, if you “ain't” or if you “is”, you’d better watch that boy Z. T. H. He is going strong with no apparent sign of weakening. “Old Gus,” known to some as “Papa" Sweet, goes to the library every night now. I wonder why? But why wonder when R. T. can explain? Your scribe has the distinction of being birde on this year. Yes siree!! ladies and gents, right out of the blue it came, but there was a bird in the blue.