Pictured labove is one of the two robot cows acquired far the practice
sessions of the H. J. C. summer school dairying classes. Newly invented
by Prof. Lucifer G. Futz, the machine is virtually human, and very ticklish. Coach Bench tried the machine before it was purchased, and stated
Thursday that it is a real inovation in practice milking.. After cleaning
the carbon it gives east Texas milk, and Pennsylvania motor cream .
Note the contented Look . . . Mooooooooo.
Because of the numebr of requests
that have come into the office,
dairying will be offered to students
during the summer semester, according to an announcement from the
Louisiana St. Offices of President E.
E. Overdoser. Tentative plans call
fir this course to be fully affiliated
with that offered by the junior college in Hillsboro, Texas, and students planning to go there after leaving the Houston institution will receive full credit, and a letter of recommendation, as well as a blessing
from Father H. W. Harris, college
According to Ignatious K. Whoopee, dean of the college, no instructor
has as yet been appointed to instruct
the course. He admited, however, that
the decision will be upon either Coach
Archie W. Bench or Prof. Red R.
Wormey, both of whom are well
Coach Bench was born in Delhi,
Texas, and lived there for the most
part of his younger days, riding on
the Phony express between there and
Houston for many years before he
was promoted to drug clerk at the
Gabbles. He came in contact with
many Junior college students in this
position, and was requested by them
to come to H. J. C. and teach. Willing to try anything once, coach
Bench readily accepted, and has done
wonderfully well, as the records of
his teams will readily signify. When
interviewed. Coach had this to say:
"One of the first things I will do,
if I get the job, will be to organize a
cow-milking team at the H. J. C. to
compete with the Four H clubs in
neighboring metropolises. We have
a wealth of material here, I believe,
and should easily win the regional
championship. As yet, we have no
cows to practice on, but you can
say that a requisition has been made,
and after it goes through the necessary channels, we will get one or two.
The school already has enough equipment for the team."
Prof. Red R. Wormey, other candidate for the position didn't dwell
so much on personalities when interviewed. Wormey is a graduate of
Pagoda college in California, and
took three courses in cow's philosophy, he disclosed.
"Why do they always milk cows
early in the morning?" we asked
him, and he replied with the air of
a professional, "Because if they wait
until noon, the cream will sour."
Numerous efforts on the part of
the faculty of the H. J. C. have finally resulted in securing for Richard Macfee the title of asssistant
baseball coach and feature writer of
the college team and paper respectfully yours, E. E. E. E. Whatyma-
dOn'T ReAd tHiS
laDies and .GentlexMen of ThiS col-
leGe, As YoU caNsEE fRom this
beGin'NG, i am a nu RePoRteR oN
the PaPeR. ALL i wonted too DO;
x5 is 9 To teLL u foaks i wilbe Writin in EevRy iSSU333e .
tHe ediToR putme "*n chg., Of the
morg wHeRe theY kEEp theKuts.hE
SUGAR LIP SMARTT
Ed Smartt the Emancipation Park
Gild Savant Collegian Outdoor Club
was awarded a medal for bravery
said i Was DED From tHe nek \i>
up, ne Way.
yEsterdaY hE tOld me to rite
Mo c)py for tHe keWgeAr. hE cald
the PapPer soMe bad nAmes an
he diDnent havtime torltE for tHe
x(x()(x-? *—*———thing neway.
i dindt no nothin to Write About
as i wanta Hole mY job ?fflx i left
out bUt aftEr about, i m cending ina
i aM tak'nG lesOns—." on hoWto
riTe on atyperitter wtHouT huNt
& . pecKng by malL. mY L ast 1E-
sen comeS tomoRRow'—, so theN i
wlii no hoW to rite fulSpeed nad
2 of THe rePorteRs laFFed when
thay Saw mY colUm, but thay dii
dnt no i was the Bes neuspaperha:
in pumonio, cal.
someBoDiE pjust brout in sume
neWs fo rthe paPer, but U foaks
new abouT it all las montH neway,
sew till nex TiMe i jsu wunt put ine
O. 0. mC ntir, JR.
Dopey Daniel asks, "If Horace
displayed during a recent pie-eating iGreely was alive today, and if he
contest... Smartie saved 2 H. i. C.Jwas broadcasting on Rudy Vallee'i
eoeda from the vicious onslaughts of program, would he say, 'Go yeast,
a goldfish. iyoung man, go yeast?' "
IF YOU HAVE HEARD
BY MILTON GREGORY
Again, your pardon Mr. Ripley.
Lincoln was wrong. At Gettysburg he said: "The world will little
kiow nor long remember what we say
' Yet this address is remembered longer and more universally
than any other.
A provincial actor in France was
able to move his hair at will, cause
it to stand on end, fall or curl. He
could also make one side curl while
the other side lay flat.
Try this on your Larynx. If you
remember how easier it is to remember what you would rather forget
than remember, than to remember
what you would rather remember
than forget—then you can't forget
how much easier it is to forget what
you would rather remember than forget, than to forget what you would
rather forget than remember.
Turkish baths are not Turkish—
or or they baths. They are hot-air
oom of Roman origin.
Talking about depression. J. Og-
den Armour, Chicago packer, lost a
million dollars a day for 130 days.
The jugular vein is not a vein—it
is an artery.
A two-inch pipe will give four
times as much water as a one-inch
pipe. The volume of a pipe varies
as the square of the diameter.
A storage battery does not store
Westminster Abbey is not an Abbey. Its true name is the Collegiate Church of St. Peters.
John Howard Payne, author of
"Home Sweet Home" never had a
home. He was a wanderer on the
face of the globe all his life.
Japanese cherry trees bear no
fruit. They are merely ornamental.
Contradicting proverb: Great
minds run in the same channel. Fools
The ice-flower of Switzerland,
forces its way up through the solid
ice to blossom in the sun.
A schoolboy made 13 mistakes in
spelling the five-letter word "usage."
He used eight wrong letters and none
of the correct ones in his attempt.
His version was "Yowzitch."
There is a left-handed and a right
handed sugar, termed Dextrose and
Elizabeth King, yes, the dear girl,
she's a bit all right, forgetful, but
still a bit all right, you know
and Marjorie Wilke, somewhat of a
runt but a nice girlie with which
to play hands, so 'tis said .... which
brings us to Margaret Scriber, an
inmate of our own Junior College,
and quite a bit of a hert breaker if
we can believe our eyes, you know . .
and still there is Harry Echols, our
own Conege boy, something of a
charming smile and personality no
end and last but not least
in our heart comes the dear, dear
Harriet Allen, somewhat of a beauty
and charming without a doubt.
liner Hamilton, the accomplished
dancer—was he missed at the Soph-
ire dance, and N. C. Jenson, one
of the crooners of H. J. C. noted
especially for his handsome profile.
Continued from page 1
thought it fun—that is as long as
his manager signed him with push-
'ers. Joe Devon was a manager—
that's why he kept feeding his charge
set-ups. He knew Kid King wasn't
ready for a real trial, but he kept
along these lines. It costs money to
set-ups because it's worth a
pocketful of pieces-of-eight to take
beating such as King began issuing out.
When Devon thought his fighter
was ready for a "trial-horse"—he
igned him to meet "Tiger" Van. The
Tiger was sometimes good and sometimes bad, but any boxer who hoped
to gain recognition had to first dispose of him.
Devon was not only good as a
fight-manager, but also as a gambler: and when he had a hunch he
usuallly backed it with his bankroll.
It so happened that he had a hunch
that Kid King could beat "Tiger"
Van—consequently he bet several
thousands on his charge.
Smack him over, Kid. Smack him
over." the Kid was instructed by his
manager. "He has been slammed
oretimes than door. Smack him
When the bell sounded to send
em into action, King didn't know
whether to circle his opponent first,
or just go out and "smack him over."
The problem was decided for him.
No sooner had he started from his
corner than he found his opponent
before him. Van led a wild right
hand. King cleverly ducked and coun-
terer by ramming his left into Van's
face. King set so fast a pace for
the remainder of that round that he
won it by a large margin.
The next four rounds found Van's
face hidden by a medly of fast-flying boxing gloves, and he had yet
his first solid blow to land on the
"Smack him on his chin," King's
manager told him during the rest
period before the final round,"—it's
glassier than a ten-cent diamond.
After the belligerents squared off
in the center of the ring for the final
round. King threw over a hard left
hook that landed flush on the angh
of Van's jaw. It was a terrific
punch: Van's eyes went bleary and
his knees sagged under him, but
instead of going down he merely
shook his head and bored in. The effect of Van's being able to stand uj
under such a hard pounding turned
the tide of the battle. For five rounds
King had pushed forward and had
hit Van with everything but the
water-bucket. . But when he found
Van could "take it," he immediately
lost heart. Van was quick to si
let-up in attack, and set out to
change his route of defeat to a
drive for victory.
It; was just too much for King to
have to extend himself in battle. He
lost heart—his punches lost steam
—and he bgan running backward. At
first he was confused, then alarmed;
his excitement prevented him from
blocking a blow that would not have
ordinarily been landed. Down he
went. He witnessed a new sensation seated on the canvas—the sensation had an apalling effect on his
courage. The average fighter—receiving a body blow of no greater
force than this one—would have
bounced up and finished the fight at
tip-top speed, but King remained on
the canvas. He seemed reluctant to
leave this haven of safety for
place where he might be subject to
receive punches aimed at his head.
A voice slowly beat its way into his
"Six. Seven. Eight . . ," it was the
referee tolling out the fatal count.
King hesitatingly rose to his feet.
Van, excited by his chance at victory, let go a wild swing. The blow,
describing a speed-blurred arc
through the air missed its mark. It
landed on King's shoulder.
King fell to the canvas like a
felled giant-oak; but he w.
GOBBLER LAYS EGG
IT COULD BE FUNNY
'Gosh, Bill, I have a funny story
to tell you. Hah, hah, hah! Gosh,
it's a scream!"
All right, let's hear it."
It starts out—haw, haw, Gee,
you'll die laughing."
Well, I'll die happy. C'mon let's
Tou see, there was a—Bill Jones
told it to me, and I tore the buttons
off my shirt, I laughed so hard."
It must be funny. Go ahead and
Well, it starts out that there were
—say, have you heard it before?"
No, I don't think so. Go on."
Well, it seems there were two
Irishmen, Pat and Mike and—hoh,
hoh, hoh! Boy, it's a scream!"
"Say, are you going to tell it or
There were two Irishmen, Pat
and Mike, and well, I'll be—"
"Whats the matter? Go on."
Gosh, Bill, I've forgotten the
THE DERN SISSY
Kitty Hurlock was walking silently
down the hall one night last week,
unaware of the fact that Mr. Dupre
was behind her She stooped to pick
up a cigarette which someone had
discarded, and when Dupree saw
her, he said, "Kitty, don't you pick
Listen, Dupe, I saw it first" was
what Kitty said.
And she picked it up.
Joe Patterson saw a girl standing
i the corner across from school one
day and even though he didn't know
her he seemed to do very nicely ....
saw him cross the street and take
her home. Home Sweet Home.
Wonder sf if she told him the right
Lucille Holland is awfully afraid
that her Austin reputation is going
to follow her to Houston. A hint to
Where have we been all our life?
We just met Buddy Norton that
charming new person at H. J. C. Ask
him if he knows how to play games.
Johnny Allright is still meandering silently about the campus attempting to find a lady love.
course by cleaning out the stalls,
xno anu awv
■^i Mou>j l.uasaop
irjptt '^oq pa.ta-anjq 'i[Bj n s,3jaqx
lowed to work their way through the
essed of enough forethought to
itretch out his arms to break his
fall. When the count of "ten and
out" was reached, King sprang to
his feet and walked to his corner
none the worse off by his "knockout."
That night Joe Devon, fight manager, in a downtown speakeasy sat
lost in his own thoughts. As a wait-
passed he managed to say, "That
guy King hasn't the nerve of a wood-
Yeah!" agreer the waiter, "he
hasn't even the nerve to bet his whole
roll of dough on a fight,"
Joe looked up and smiled.