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THE MAROON TIGER
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We lived, I say—but it couid not endure.
Beauty must perish, take another form;
No sky is ever alien from its storm;
There is so little refuge for the pure.
It had to be—love has its barren season.
(We sagely said, but really never knew)
The sun is far too wary for the dew
That strides the waving reed; the other reason
I quite forget (I never thought it sound).
And so we saw it wither, sicken, die,
This strange swift love, not by neglect but by
Some written thing. (Thus did we then expound.)
You went your way, and I was soon to learn
Something went with you—never to return—
—R. F. D.
BIG BUSINESS IN CHAPEL
By a Spelman “Miss”
Why go to chapel? "Ah me!” cried one, "I get lots
of things done!” Just then others chimed in and agreed
to what the alert spokesman of the group had said.
Just why do you go to chapel and what do you do
after you get there? Are you there to prevent a lower
ing of grade points at the end of the year? Are you
there because your chapel is like the Riverside Church
in New York, crowded with people before the service
begins—people anxious and wanting the bread of life,
people eager to drink from the fountain “ever flowing
free”—or is it the inner longing—the urge that forces
you like Catholics to hasten into services for a chance
to meditate and to acknowledge some religious experi
ence?
If a vote were taken, I believe that most of us would
not belong to the latter classes, but surely to the first
class, and grades alone determine to a large extent our
presence in religious meetings.
Now tell me—the boy who jumped over three steps,
the girl who half dressed—what business were they setting
about? “It’s chapel time,” I thought. “Mighty big busi
ness.”
What do you do when you get there? “I? Why I
scramble for an end seat and a good position to sleep
in.” Another I turned to remarked: "What do I do?
Why I count the electric bulbs if the speaker is dry.”
Another: “I study various expressions of people sitting
around me,” and “I listen and criticize the speakers, dic
tion, their platform decora” ... “I day-dream and plan
all I am going to do if I ever get out of college” . . .
“Why, I would consider the time lost if I didn’t review
my daily lessons in chapel before going to class.”
What creative students! I thought they at least got
something done. They do get lots done in chapel after
all. “Sorter" on a big business plan is this chapel going!
Sometimes the speakers merely fill space superbly—more
than some philosophers can discourse on.
“Why is your cheek so pink, Helen?”
“Oh, that’s health.”
“Well, you are only healthy on one side, dear.”
Husband: “Where is that duck that was in the ice
box, wifey?”
Wife: “Oh, mother ate it. You know she would give
half of her life for a duck.”
Husband: “Well, next time I will bring two ducks for
her to eat.”
TIGER TICKLERS
By Harold J. Brazeal, Jr.
When Harold Watson wishes to disguise himself com
pletely he merely puts on an expression of intelligence.
"Slim” Scott has a temporary loss of mind. He came
home the other night and put the umbrella in the bed
and stood up in the corner all night.
According to a psychologist, people are most intelligent
at the age of fourteen, before they start to college.
She was only a photographer’s daughter, but, Boy! she
was well developed.
Junior: “Say, Greshie, going to the dance tonight?”
Greshie: "I won’t be in town that night.”
Junior: “I wasn’t invited either.”
EXTRA! EXTRA! Telling all about the whereabouts
of “Slim” Scott’s thirty-eight ($38.00) dollars. His name
has been changed to “Snoving Slim.”
Can you imagine “one-lung” Darkins having left his
door key on his table, climbed over the transom to find
that his room-mate had left the door unlocked for him?
He must be the guy who left his watch at home, then
tried to take it out of his pocket to see if he had time
enough to go back and get it.
Little Girl: “This piece has a worm in it.”
Auntie: “Well, take the worm out and eat it.”
Lady: “Yes, James, did you wish to say anything
to me?”
Chauffeur: “Yes, mam; I want to know where I must
put your car. Mine took all the room in the garage.”
She: “Stop, darling, here comes the chaperon!”
He: “Oh, that’s all right; I learned this from her.”
James Holloway will not give lecture on “Who Is the
Smartest Guy in the Freshman Class and Why Am I?”
Sam Garlington laughed when he sat down at the
piano—for there wasn’t any stool.
Do you believe in kissing?
I do not believe in kissing. I see no good in it. I
see nothing to be gained by it.—V. Mapp.
I do not believe in kissing. It is the beginning place
of many evils.—X. X. X.
Sure, I believe in kissing. It is an old and established
custom. No one has died from it yet; that’s all I am
afraid of.—Tick-Tock.
Yes, I believe in kissing. Through an intricate process
of scientific reasoning I have come to the conclusion that
it is useless as well as futile for man to,attempt to com
pletely subjugate his natural tendencies. Kiss Me Quick.
—Your Editor.
No, I don’t believe in kissing. It is only an unneces
sary method of spreading diseases.—A. Cooper.