THE CO U G A It
Of The Houston Junior College
Published semimonthly during the college year. Subscriptio
Single copies, 10 cents.
Assistant Editor .
Faculty Advisor ....
., $1.00 per year.
..Oscar Con roe
Betty Covington, Adolph Marks
F. R. Birney
.. V. F. Harrison
Feature .... .
Ruth Depperman, Harry Phillips, Myrta Ann Mersner, Mary Jane Fly, Patsy
Inman, Wilma Lindsey, L. P. Marshall, Margaret Macey, Eugene Heard, Winona
Phelps, Helen Higgins, James Julian.
HOW 'BOUT IT?
Listen, fellow students, pals, friends, etc., I don't wancha ta think I'm tryin'
ta go soft or anythin' like that, but the way we acted in assembly Wednesday
night is a cryin' shame. Ya know that act we pulled with the alarm clock, the
ringin' just when Dupre got up to make his speech an' all? Well after that
thing started ringin', I kinda felt sorry for Ole "Dupe."
Now layin' all jokes aside, that was his big moment havin' to get up before
all the big bugs an' all. An' say, didja notice how he let it slide, just laughed
it off. He ain't such a bad scout after all. He didn't try to stop the whole cahoots ta find out who it was thet wuz ringin' the thing. The whole bunch of
'em laughed. Notice 'em. Ya know I thought it would be cute, about the clock
an' all, but didn't so many of the kids laugh, and that's what we was doin' it
for. Oh, they kinda smiled sorta, but we didn't get the laughs I expected us
to. In fact, I believe the big bugs laughed more'n the rest of 'em.
I've kinda come to the conclusion that stuff like we pulled don't go over so
big in a college. Why, if we'd a pulled that in Junior High, boy, they'd a never
quit Laughin' an' we'd a been heroes for a month. Ya know when I first started
out here, I thought mebbe we'd stand in good with the upper "classies" if we'd
kinda cut up a little and show 'em we had some fun in us, but I haven't found
'em payin' so much 'tention to us, do ya think? Looks like they would, but
they just kinda give us one of those descending looks an' go on.
Wonder who that wuz that started that bell down stairs, right in the middle
of "Obie's" speech? Gosh, how I'd a hated to been in his shoes. He didn't act
like he even knew it wuz ringin', just kept right on talkin', and I bet there
wuzn't a soul there that heard a word he said.
Boy, I don't know whether I'm a piker or not, or whether I'm just turnin'
yellow, anyway, we can't keep this up. I'm kinda 'fraid they'll oust us. No kid-
din', if our stunt had gone over a little bit funnier, I'd a been thinkin' up
sompin bigger 'n better, but listen, fellows, I believe they'll think we're smarter,
and the girls '11 like us better, if we see how little disturbance we can make.
An' boy, is there some pippin' babies out here! How 'bout it?
wants is to want
Learn as if to live forever;
Live as if to die tomorrow.
—Ansalus de insulis.
Experience brings with it pain
as well as pleasure.—Brice O.
Eveiy cloud has its silver lining, hut it is sometimes a little
difficult to go! it to the mint.—
Hearts are like loaves of bread,
—you must break them to get
anything out of them at all.
Flirtation is attention without
i n tention.—Burde tte.
Prohibition makes you want to
cry into your beer and deny
you the beer to cry into.—Don
Heres' to you, my dear, be gay,
This is no time for sorrow.
For I love you, my dean, today,
Who'eer I may love tomorrow.
Prof. Archie French, physical training instructor, is planning an extensive
intramural system of athletics at Junior College_ this year. This should prove
very popular with the students, because while receiving gymnastic training, the
collegians will at the same time be afforded the opportunity of participating
in competitive sports.
But there is food for thought. In addition to the intramural idea, why not
sponsor interclass competition, fostering rivalry on the athletic field between
the freshmen and sophomore classes. This scheme has been in existence in
many of the leading colleges over the country for some time, and the freshmen-
sophomore or junior-senior grid and cage battles always prove to be interesting
events, which draw the undivided support of the student bodies.
School officials have put the ban on football at Junior college this year and
the thought of a possible grid battle between the classes is out of the question, but if the executives would sanction such a plan in the other sports, such
as basketball, baseball and track, the frays between the first year men and the
upperclassmen should prove to be spectacles. Then too, these contests, if given
the right sort of backing by the school enmasse, may become annual affairs
and mark the beginning of a tradition that undoubtedly would continue
It is to be hoped that this plan proves favorable with Mr. French, and other
members of the faculty, as well as Mr. Oberholtzer and that they will do all
in their power to support it to the fullest extent.
THE NEED FOR COLLEGE
"Rice Institute is a fine institution and has done a magnificent work," says
Miss Genevieve Johnson, dean of San Jacinto high school, who was recently
honored for serving forty years with the Houston public schools.
However, in a plea for a University of Houston, Miss Johnson goes on to say:
"But its (Rice's) advantages are limited to those of outstanding scholarship,
because of limited finances. My experience has shown me that the great proportion of my students who have 'made good' in Houston and elsewhere and
become valuable citizens were not those who made the highest grades in
school. Suppose they had been barred from educational advantages simply because they did not reach a certain high standard of scholarship? They had
ability, and in those days we did not know how to give them full opportunity to
develop, but many developed in spite of that.
"Every boy and girl, regardless of whether they make the highest school
grades or not, should be given the opportunity to develop the ability that is
theirs, and learn to do well the things that are within their reach and interests.
Only a city university, with tuition free, will give this opportunity to the boys
and girls of Houston who most need it.
"My heart aches as day after day a boy or girl sits at my desk at San Jacinto,
ready to leave high school, and with head bowed says, 'Miss Genevieve, I wish
I could go on to school. I want to, but we haven't the money.'
"Houston can afford to build such a university; in fact, she can not afford not
to. I do not know who will start the movement, but I believe it will come. It
should be endowed by public subscription, every citizen having a part according to his means. We have men who could put thousands of dollars into such
an institution, and what a monument that would be! Every year we delay
means that hundreds of boys and girls will be forced to go out into life deprived of that training which should have been so much fuller and easier.—Rice
Blue Monday, they say is the time of
When things stack up the most,
When the boss is anything but meek,
And your mood is of nothing to boast.
But why do they pick on Monday,
An ordinarily homely day?
When peace usually reigns on Sunday,
Unless the mother-in-law has come to
My blue day is every day
That lessons have stacked up,
Through procrastination in every way,
And laziness having filled my cup.
But, Hell! What is a blue day?
I don't know, do you?
I'm just atalkin' when I say
These crazy things I do.
We're all just alike.
So fickle, so darn incomplete,
Know nothing about this fife
Let's get agoin' an stop this thinkin'
Of life and all its sorrow.
Let's start risin' and just athinkin'
Of the good times we'll have tomorrow.
—Harvey B. Richards, Jr.
THE RAID OF THE MOSQUITOES
They cam e— biting, buzzing, flying,
Whizzing, whirring, deadly stinging;
Demons of the dankest regions,
Foulest fiends in infinite legions.
They stung—right and left and up and
Here, there and yonder; and all around.
They sought the nooks and rooms of all,
They infested the once peaceful hall.
They cling—to high and low, to soph
The slaps, the claps that they did cause
The profs to them are just more flesh.
They took in faith as kind applause!
They laughed—in highest insect glee,
When students tried to fly or flee.
The vultures dodged and sneered at
They played one big game, and we
They stay—and, helpless, we can but
That from ihe North kind Heav'n will
Ice, snow, and sleet; and freezing rain—
It's the torture we mind—not the pain.
We have been down the rows of freshman bliss,
Through the shadow of a professor's
And now, to just think that we can kiss
Goodbye to this d— Freshman math,
It's wonderful j
We have come out the front door
On the toes of tiophomore boots;
Appetizer: don't read this!
Dear Aluminum Editor;
With the aid of. Rand & McNally,
the Zodiac, and other hibernatorial
hints (not including the sheriff), I migrated successfully from Texas' Largest City to the port of Miss-ing men.
During the puny perigrination, it may
please you to know, I conjured up all
manner of pleasing possibilities: how
I'd star in everything from runt golf
to writing tooth paste ads; how I'd
inveigle the mamas and waylay the
daughters; in short, how I'd take this
great big, beautiful, blissful, buxom
ball labeled the Earth and make it
feel like the feminine side of an
apache dance. Thus and so, as it
were, I tamed the contents of these
hooked hemispheres into the essence
of a muzzled oyster just as easily as a
supple young gir! of eighteen lifts her
other face from a compact. Yes, sir,
' old Earthus Mundamus felt about as
valuable as restaurant butter when I
> got through churning her. All I lacked
!wps a Bos 31; and that's the unvarnished truth!
Say, Aluminum, did you ever
hear the pop of a toy pistol? Well, that
was me. My career was stopped like
an inflated wave on a craggy rock. I
hit here feeling like Fifth Avenue in
Arkansas and before I could get up I
felt like a pair of stray eyeballs in a
sandstorm. I was stunned, suppressed,
simply sandbagged. I have been striving, these three weeks, to weave a
coup d'etat, but its harder than trying
to make beer out of the hops of a frog.
Thus you can see why I feel like the
"wrung bosom of a dying man," a
fractured mountain, and the ape of the
flock. Yes indeedy, life has been one
long series of common blunders.
RAH! RAH! BAH! BAH! HA! HA!
The University, where the girls reform; it's in class to be out of class
to be in class; where's there's life assurance; where Holly-wood, a peach
can, and cow's cud. Well, I tried to
join a sorority yesterday, but they insisted that I wasn't in good shape, all
this after I'd rented a perfectly good
fire-extinguisher. Egad, eftsoons my
anger eked great; I. retorted I was the
money, and they'd better put me in
circulation. They clipped the conversation by saying I was archaic and had
better get changed.
To town this last week to hold a
conference (very private: Margie, I was
really looking for a job). The confer-
ence^nding sooner than planned (confound him) I turned toes toward the
town's torth tent. (How's that for illit-
creation, eh Birney?)
You know it's marvelous here how
the inhabitants offer their services. In
one block only, between Eighth and
Ninth streets, I refused thirty-five
shines; and was fortunate in escaping
so lightly, I thought. While I was thus
deeply thinking, and consequently off
my guard, the pat and leather laborers
of the next block incorporated into a
most persistent and perplexing huddle;
intending, so it seems, to re-establish
the glory of profession which I had so
desecrated the block before. It's an
art in which they shine, too.
Upon discovering their Chicago-like
tendencies, I started an end run,
tripped over a bale of cotton, and gave
up a dime.
Getting your shoes shined is like
reading a comic: it gives you a certain
amount of reflection but doesn't help
your soul—which is what I need right
Up the Principal Stem with a great
| flurry of feet, raising thern high, in
goosestep-fashion, so that the cuffs
of my pants went clear of the top of
my shoes with each stride; clicking and
scraping again my heels as they struck
the pavement. Such are my methods.
At length I arrived at the end of the
Main Artery, which gushes madly
And now, we do that chore
To some of these fresh galoots—
It's wonderful. •
We have for years, held the sack
With fingers and hands so sore,
All, just "to get it back",
Ami just t» be a sophomore—
—Harvey B. Richards, .
through the city, over the river, past
the business district, until it reached
So&So Street where it hurls itself
against the State Capitol, and with a
last, frantic gurgle splits wide open,
part flowing east and part west. Thus
it is as if the old granite hut were not
satisfied with splitting political parties.
It was now about nine o'clock; the
morning vapors had not cleared; onlyr
a dull, diffused maze of light, hanging
in the eastern sky, marked the position
of the sun; the trees dripped heavily
of moisture; everything had that sol-*
emn, somber appearance of desolation.
I always like it at this time; such a
variety of interesting and mysterious
things is happening there. To cull them
from among the common places is
both delightful and educational.
I had crossed but a part of the *
grounds, being yet beneath the deep
shadows of the west wing, when I saw
a blonde. Because of the fog, its necessary obscurity, I could hardly ^classify
her, but figuratively speaking, she was
a soft, shy, sentimental innocent'
I had advanced only a few yards,
however, when I SAW THE FOLLY-
OF MY HASTY CONVICTION. It
was only a clever politician extracting
the dollars from a blind beggar's cup
with one hand and putting a pair of
lenseless goggles on him with the
other: all this at the same time and
very fast, too. By the way I notice .
where there were three femmes vying
'for honors in the sophomore electoral
race helt at your college a short while
back. Oh well
Knowing that you are hankering for
a little purloined news concerning college progeny, I will give you a little
idea of the kind of social fabrick
Alice McCullough, published by the
Houston Junior College, caused ripples*
and wrinkles in scientific circles here
Saturday. By her marvelous power of
divination and a remarkable stretch of
her imagination, she guessed within
two minutes of the actual time required
by a 100-pound biock of ice to melt in*
a display window. A classy computation! She knows what it takes to melt
The engineers, and other T-square
addicts, who compute in terms of Einstein and cosine, looked about us
cheerful as a Dallas fog in Dallas when
the result was announced. They were •
possessed with the polite saucity of
trolley-conductor combined with the
delicious smile of a convict guard.
Augean Anecdotes: *
Bob Flemin: Out sleuthing for a liberty belle.
J. W. Newton: Absolutely refuses to
look at the headlines.
Grace McDonald: Like Rockefeller,
she believes in the Golden Rule.
Howard Brance: "Love's Labours
Aaron Kalmans: In search of a co-ed
liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
Terry Russ: Thinks in terms ofw
Houston and talks in terms of Maurine.
Oliver McCall: Spending bis spare
time in trying to overthrow Amtiican
independence among the girls. —
Bill Henderson: Still trying to find
out what inning Pope's "Homer" m
Homer Helton; "What we need is
Joe, Joe, and Tarn—the pop-lar three:
The mighty Tarn is writing his thesis
this year on "Ho2 to Sell Dyed Sparrows for Canaries."
Me: Trying to get ahead. Well, I*
need one, don't I?
There's not a thread of material left
so I am forced to stop, spinning con-«
versa tion for the nonce and return to
the irksome duty of polishing my halo.
Please excuse this letter. It's only a
feeble effort of mine to be a nutcracker. And the big words—when a
writer has nothing to say he inevitably
clothes his thoughts with monstrous
polysyllables, metaphors, and similies,
so, as it seems, to appear intelligent*
in the eyes of his reader. Will write
you next month, if, by that time, I have
not lost my balance and been blown
away by the overdraft. With ten thou- »
sand synonyms of love, I am,
"Gee" Weldon, ,,
Class of 1932 alias 1940.
Dessert: You've already had it!
Please overlook the tipewriter: I
need the praxtice.