THE C O U G A R
Sally White is still writing on her
short, short, short story.
"I'm going up to interview the Sob
Sister," says Gladys Jacobs, polishing
. ^ Ann Rach takes alook at her test
paper. After having served the Humble Oil & Refining Company fourteen
years as its Standard Dictorary, she
* stands corrected in her spelling: "I
'staid' too long," she said.
Louis Higginbotham arrives late,
i "He was still at the Adorable when
I left," remarks Lucille Cafcalas.
The Gargoyle states it has three applications daily from this class. "How
' about it?" inquires lone Brown.
"Don't look at me," defends Walter
"I notice Verna German is as active
in writing Book Reviews as she is in
"" her Tomboy Broadcast," states Harvey
"That reminds me," says Verna, "of
• the criticism on the 'Villa de Santiago'."
"Well, constructive criticism is very
beneficial," says Mrs. Hardaway, "but
when it comes to a phrase 'sticking
out like a sore thumb,' I consider it
« "I understand the first six weeks
are to be regarded as a test, and that
Mr. Birney thinks each of us will get
an A by the end of the term," comes
* from optimistic Mr. Albert.
But Mr. Birney has been quoted as
saying: "Give us our criticisms while
we live; our bouquets only when we
However, he tempers justice with
mercy by admitting that he, like Will
Rogers, only "razzes" his best friends.
Well, judging from the response to
the first puzzle offered, the students
at this college are either exceedingly
dumb, or very much lacking in am-
, bition. Now that's no way to have
anybody talk about you, and being as
you don't know whose writing this, the
only way you can show him that he
is wrong is to send in a correct answer to the following poser. It is very
simple, but catchy; so be careful and
not too hasty with your figuring. And
remember, a correct answer with your
name attached to it, put in Mr. Bir-
ney's box at the office, means that
your name will be published in the
next issue. All right, here it is:
Two painters, Jones and Smith, contract to paint the lamp posts on a
certain section of a street. Jones gets
up earlier than Smith, and starts
painting, and has painted three lamp
posts by the time Smith arrives. Then
Smith tells Jones, that he has started
on the wrong side. So Jones, an
agreeable fellow, goes over to the other side and starts over. Smith finishes
up the side Jones started, then feeling sorry for his partner, h» goes over
to the other side and paints six posts
for Jones, finishing the job. Now as
there were the same number of posts
on each side of the street, the question is: Who painted the most posts,
and how many more than the other
fellow did he paint?
As regards the solution to the puzzle
in the last issue; the boat traveled
only 70 miles in the first hour, and
then 90 in the second hour. The locomotive, traveling 80 miles an hour
steadily for two hours traveled the
sum of 160 miles, which is the same
distance that the boat traveled. The
race ended when the two were abreast
of each other, consequently it lasted
exactly two hours. Now an airplane
traveling 150 miles an hour for two
hours would certainly travel 300
miles, which is the correct answer.
All right now, it's up to you. Are
you dumb, lazy, or smart? The num-
1 ber of solutions handed in this time
will judge you, so let's go.
"Cisco" Kellogg: I don't like to ride
with you; you're reckless.
Curtis Dunk: Yes, we've had some
light squeezes, haven't we?
"Happy": There are lots of couples
that don't pet in parked cars.
John C: Yes, the woods are full of
"Do you object to petting?"
"That's one thing I have never done
The_ ultimate in women's clothes—
to feel the coolest and look the
Dentist: I'm sorry but I'm out of
Girl in the Chair: Ye gods! Do dentists pull that old stuff, too?
Height of something or other. A
A drunk looking at pictures drawn
by Dr. Seuss.
Gee, dear, with a moon like that
there are only two things to do—and
I, don't feer like writing poetry.
The evil effects of proms are only
too evident. George Washington was
an inevitable dancer, and became the
Father of His Country.
Prof: Now, wouldn't you be surprised on the final day if St Peter
asked you, 'What is a participle?"
Dear Editor: What does a kiss on
le ear denote?
Answer: It denotes that the girl
STICK 'EM UP!
As a means of continuing their campaign to better the student body of the
college and instill in them a little of the
school spirit that they lack, the Cougar
Collegians are presenting them with
Junior College Stickers as all colleges
possess to paste on the windows of
their cars, autos, conveyances and
She: How do the freshmen keep
those dinky little caps on?
He: Vacuum pressure.
She: Hey, Joe, about how long should
I cook this spaghetti?
He: Oh, about 10 inches.
"Flash" Branham: See that fellow
over there? He's a bombastic ass, a
vacuous nonenity, a conceited humbug, a parasite, and an incumbrance
to the earth.
Rena Mai B.: Would you mind writing that down? You see, he's my
date, and I would like to use it on
Marion Adams: Sorry, old man, that
my hen got loose and scratched up
Fred Aebi: That's all right; my dog
ate your hen.
Marion: Fine! I just ran over your
dog and killed him.
Leon Green: Do you still run
around with that little blonde?
Irving W.: She's married now.
L. G.: Answer my question.
Walter Garret, it seems was the
guest of a lesser known hotel. He was
not exactly satisfied with the service
rendered and woke up the night clerk i
with a phone call.
"What's on your mind now?" the I
"Mind hell!" replied Garret, "they're
all over the bed."
Mr, Harris: Have you ever had an)
Eugene Heard: Yes, 1 had my leg in
a cast once.
Julian Hurwitz (buying a suitcase):
I None of these is what I want. When I
i buy a bag, I like to see some cowhide
Julius "Seize 'er'" Kaufman: Oi,
you should vant tricks. Am I a magician yet?
Now comes Mary Jane Fly with the
statement that 'The best way to lubricate an Austin is to hang it on the
wall and spray it with a Flit gun."
O. D. Brown: Dollink, if you really
do like this uke, I'm going to give it
Christine Fitzgerald: An out-and-
O. D.: Absolutely, there's no strings
Butcher: I'll pay you three dollars a
week, but what can you do?
Tom Crawford: Anything.
Butcher: Well, be specific. Can you
dress a chicken?
Tom; Not on three bucks a week.
Vincent Artale :Today, you will look
upon my face for the last time.
Mr. Artale: What, you would kill
Vincent: No, I'm going to raise a
Hal Renfro: Columbus was some
Donald Aitken: I'll bite.
Renfro: When he discovered America he shouted "I see dry land."
James Julian: I sent you some suggestions for making the Cougar more
interesting. Did you carry them out?
Mr. Birney: Did you meet the jani-
itor with the waste-paper basket as
you came in?
J. J.: Why, yes, I did.
Mr. B.: Well, he was carrying out
Lucille Black: Kiss me again!
Jimmie Brinkley: My dear, I've just
kissed you seventeen times in seventeen seconds,
Lucille: Jimmie, you love another,
Photographer: Do you want a large
or small picture?
. Donald Aitken: A small one, please.
Photographed: Then close your
A garlic sandwich is two pieces of
bread traveling in bad company.
Time will tell—but co-eds won't.
Thats what I get for being a bad
girl, said the flapper as she tried on
her new fur coat.
She uses Pillsbury's Best for face
powder because her boy friend said
she had a face like a pancake.
"A sharp nose indicates curiosity,"
says a seeintist. And a flattened nose
may indicate too much curiosity.
A Freshman Entry
"Yeah, and who in the h—1 wouldn'l
When one man i:
other, a girl gets no
with either of them.
as good as an-
kick out of going
Mr. Birney: I've
wife; she's a brunette, isn't she?
Mr. Harris: I'm not sure, she's visiting a beautician this afternoon
Milford Smith recently had his
picture taken by one of those "Developed while you wait" photographers. The result disappointed even the
photographer, but Milford was lucky;
the picture didn't look anything Uke
Pat McAlexander, former Jeff Davis
student, is making himself known in
the public speaking and accounting
departments. In the former class, he
recently set forth ten reasons why we
should legalize beer. He even mentioned the one about creating work
for the unemployed.
Mr. Miller was explaining that th«
"curb" was a sort of outlaw stock exchange, and continued: "The seats in
the Stock Exchange often sell for as
much as $30,000." The mere mention
of so large a sum of money caused a
respectful hush in the classroom.
Presently a voice (shall we say that
it belonged to Harvey Richards?) said
"Gosh, I'd sit on the curb."
Mr. Henderson, in explaining why so
many farmers were leaving the country
for the city. "The farmers have nothing to do, any more. They used to
raise oats and corn to feed to their
horses, but now they
A flower pot
She was only an undertaker's daughter, but she was the burtes.
Man's place, too, is in the home—
but only when the husband is away.
Statistics show that out of every
hundred marriages, fifty per cent are
When the hostess says: "I'm delighted to meet you, Mr. So-and so,"
do not show your egotism by saying:
It has been rumored about the campus that the presidents of two rival,
but friendly organizations, the Dramatic Class and the Dramatic
Club do not get along so well
with each other. Now we thought that
they were "cur-ray-zee" about each
other. How about it, Chris? (She'i
both of them).
We wonder who was driving the La-
Salle sedan we saw Lucille Cafcalas
crawling into in front of the Apple
House a few nights ago.
Somebody overheard a conversation
between Jim Bertrand and Milford
Smith which ran something like this:
A petite blonde, too well-known for
her name to be divulged, stood in Hne
in the Cafeteria gazing at a concoction of ground meat and potatoes, macaroni, or what have you. "What is
it?" she finally asked. "Shepherds'
Pie," was the answer. "Gee!" she said
after a moment "the shepherds must
have been awful hungry!"
We overheard Howard J. J. reciting
the following poetry:
Both beautiful and dumb
My own true love must be—
Beautiful so I'll love her,
And dumb so she'll love me.
She was strolling down the campus
walk with another girl. Her companion was with her in the flesh only.
For all the opportunity she had of
adding to the flowing stream of talk,
her thoughts might have been thousands of miles away, and girl Number
One would never have known the difference. .
"We went to the dance last night.
Four of us. Everyone was there. You
weren't there, were you? You should
have gone; everyone, positively
everyone, was there; but you probably
would not have enjoyed it. And I
met the cutest boy there. Dark hair
and blue eyes. Just my type, you
"Of course I did not exactly meet
him. You know how jealous Tom is.
Just goes into a fury every time another man looks at me.
"Gee, I wish I knew who that other
boy was! I think blond girls with
brunette men look just too divine.
And I had on my blue transparent
velvet, too. Tom says it just matchas
"Tom says the sweetest things. But
I wonder who that gorgeous man was.
I ■ saw him come up and introduce
himself to Tom. But Tom was mad
because I was dancing with Jerry and
was not very friendly, so he went
away. I suppose Tom knew that h«
wanted to meet me. Isn't it terrible
how jealous men are when they are
"Do you know anything about this
math? Gee, I guess I oughta stayed
home last night and crammed, but I
forgot all about this darned quiz, and
I just hate math anyway. But I love
English. I got the cutest English prof.
I just love English.
"Gee, I wish I was as smart as you
are. I'll bet you know this stuff like
a book. I suppose I could be smart
if I studied, but men dont* like smart
"Listen, sit down here on the steps
a minute and show me how to work
this problem. Gee, thanks a lot; I
can memorize that easy. Well, so long.
"Gee, there's that grand looking boy
I saw last night. And coming this
way, too. Where on earth is my lipstick?
"Gee, wouldn't that freeze you?
Didn't even see me. Tearing after
dumb grind that worked that problem
problem for me! Aren't men just the
SYMPHONY IN BLUE
The sombre blue of the great ocean,
the turquoise blue of the Mediterranean, the cerrulean blue of the clouds
as they float lazily through an azure
sky, the blue Cyprian grottos of Naples, with the cobalt waters lapping at
their feet, the artistry of blue Delft
poreelainware of the old Dutch masters, all fade into sheer nothingness
before the eathereal being that it has
been my good fortune to view.
The soft sheer of blue silk, the regal
poise, the sweet face, the golden hair,
the lilting voice, all create in the enraptured mind of the beholder a symphony of lovliness that delves into the
innermost resources of the soul, just
as the pulsating tones that a Mozart
might play on the harpischord, reaches
for the heartstrings of his spellbound
Curly, winsome little locks of hair
that capture each passng sunbeam, and
in ensnaring them, transmit them to
the purest of virgin gold. Would that
I could be a sunbeam for just one
fleeting moment and thus implant a
light caress on that exquisite face.
Or, would that I had the brush of
a Corregio, the master chisel of an
Angelo, that I might record everlastingly for all the world on canvas and
the purest of Venetian marble my impression of this wonderful person.
Had I the silver-tongued oratory of
a Burke I might voice my thoughts to
this vision of lovliness, but as I have
only my own poor, faltering speech, I
may only worship from afar.
However, oft when I am pensive or
melancholy, my mind conjures up this
beautious apparition in blue and the
mere contemplation of such a being
drives from my tortured brain all the
myriad imps of evil, care and worry,
and leaves in their stead a feeling that
for one moment of ecstacy, I feel exalted into the Realms of the Sublime.
—Joseph LeRoi Taylor.