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20 THE ATHENAEUM they never did dare to travel along that road. Nor are people’s minds so much mater ial, which, when shocked or stimulated, will, react according to a prescribed formula. People either do “think” or go their own sweet ways until something unforeseen blocks all retreat. . But customary as it is to lump the American student into a generalization and say he is pretty much of a numbskull, that too is no way toward a more satisfactory way of educating ourselves. Undoubtedly there are students who “think” or are trying to. They ai<e seeking to understand many questions which a chaotic world has placed before them: Why are we in college; how is it helping us to make our lives finer and truer? Are we being, filled with a dry intellectualism, or reacting to it in the form of a hot-air radicalism, or are we working out a sane idea of our own life and its relation to others? But often the search of such people may end in mere baffled perplexity because of a lack of stimulation or contact with others who too are questioning and wonder ing. For them THE NEW STUDENT exists." It is published every two weeks and has readers in 300 colleges. We want it to Be, more than ever, a forum for American students, a clearing house of ideas where' young thinkers bring their thoughts to light and try to evaluate them. Student opinion must not remain inarticulate; if it is worth hearing, we want to hear it. If you have anything to say, write it to THE NEW STUDENT, 2929 Broadway, New York. —Lenore Pelham. FROM THE TOBACCO FIELDS Back from the fields where tobacco grows, Away from the sounds of clanging hoes, Streamlets sweet where crystal water flows, Back to dear old Morehouse. Sweet were the veiws, and the water’s foam, The shady woods called us for to roam, But the sweetest road was that to home, The road to dear old Morehouse. ’Twas joy to sail from a distant plain— Twas joy to observe the college sheen; ’Twas joy when dinner came again, Dinner time at dear old Morehouse. O’er crest and crag we are through jumping, We are glad to be back and bunking, We’ll do our best to excape flunking, And to uplift dear old Morehouse. —Grady Farley, Ac. ’25.