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EWS is beginning to trickle out of Italy
lately about a slight ruffle of resentment as
to the acts of 11 Duce. The “shadow before” still
takes no more form than that occasioned with
the football team’s forgetting to buy the coach
a fountain pen at the end of the season. But it is
Some Italians observe that internally all is
not as it should be. Unemployment had increased
in 1933 to five times the figure in 1929 and has
been relieved only slightly by the current war
machine construction. Wage cuts have mounted
from between 16 and 38 percent since 1926. The
prices on 125 commondities have increased 17
percent over last year.
11 Duce, in an effort to check contemplated
flight of capital and to call in all available
Italian resources, demands that all holdings such
as foreign stocks, bonds and other credits be
deposited with the Bank of Italy. He ordered
that banks and corporations must dispose of
their foreign investments by ceding them, at the
exchange rate of the day, to the same central
institution.
Because of an over-populated condition and
relative derth of resources the balance of trade
is of great importance to Italy. There are many
critics who say that 11 Duce's maintenance of
the gold standard and his insistence upon the
high value of the lira greatly “aggravates” that
balance.
Like Americans, the average Italian is in
terested in improving his country, and wants to
see it a better place for his children. But some
of them are now seeing their leader make en
emies of every country in the world—openly
defy all other people, ignore the economic and
physical hardship placed upon both ffalians at
home and those in the army, and pour lira and
life into a disease festered and stubborn country,
wild Ethiopia.
Is it all necessary ? Must 11 Duce bring forth
the wrath of the nations on the mass of the
Italian people? Isn’t there a better technique for
adjusting internal difficulties and foreign policy?
Do all imperialistic policies carry with them
world wars?
Italians are now asking such mild and skittish
little questions. Some of the answers might do
Benito some good if it weren’t too late. But it is.
Mussolini is through!
Benito Mussolini is
Walking on his Ankles
there.
Shall It Be Light
At Homecoming
FEW days ago, a Portland female alumna, i
in a letter to the editor requested that the
'Homecoming committee so decorate the Home
coming dance as to have ample lighting facilities
for seeing plainly other people. "For after all,”
opined the lady, "what is Homecoming for?”
Now here is a problem that calls for con
sideration of all people (especially those with new
■ dresses). Of course it is quite necessary to see
other people while dancing although some people
blandly ignore this traffic problem. And then
agairr if the lights are to,) low one might dance
all evening with the wrong person, or fall in the
punch bowl.
To be fair and square in this problem we will
analyze it from two sides: t. low lights; 2. high
lights.
1. Low lights: One can’s see her nose in front
o! h;s face. The possibility of checking up on your
girl and the campus romeo is weakened. Sack
cloth hobnobs far to freely with silk. One might
offer Dean Sehworing a cigar (or then again
the dean might offer you a cigar).
2. High lights: The campus beauty might
have a difficult time maintaining her status quo.
Visiting alumni would undoubtedly recognize
dodged creditors. The vice versa of this is much
worse. The band would have to wash its tuxedo
shirts.
This little analysis acomplishes very little if 1
anything at all. Nevertheless it throws some light
on the Homecoming dance, which is more than
past committees have done.
Interfraternity Council
Gets Under Way
~'ODAY at a meeting of the interfraternity
council progress made in the revisement of
the constitution will be discussed along with sug
gestions for altering tlie membership of the
council to assure continuity. President Tom Mc
C’al! has also indicated that some action for the
improvement of fraternity libraries will be dis
cussed.
Even the program scheduled for this special
meeting indicates the birth of a progressive
attitude on the part of the group. It appears as
though from .ate um ^ 1 and baclu-bittbei ot tin
last few weeks, some desire for unity and co- |
operation has sprung up within the council.
Unfortunately there is still some muttering
about dirty work, and some threats of exposing !
the whole works. As to the effect on the council's j
future work, it would be well if these people
would forget their troubles and buiy what they
“know” or give it air. As it is, such an attitude
is dead weight to a progressive council.
Europe Firsthand
By Howard Kessler
<<X’»7'ILL the young man wearing a double
• » breasted blue .suit, who attended the Cer
vantes cinema Tur ,.iy afternoon and sat next
to a very ugly woman, please call this number.”
You can read it a id weep, but it isn’t a slip
that has passed in the night. Rather, it is a
legitimate newspaper insertion in Spain, and you
find several like it in any Spanish daily. George
translated a few for me.
“Young Hebrew scholar will teach typewrit
ing, stenography, and the arts of love.”
“Young lady of very Catholic sentiments
would sentiments would like a love affair with a
young man of the same type.’
At this time the newspapers in Spain were
under strict censorship, four months after the
October revolution of 1934, and most of them
displayed on the front page, in bold-face, the
information: “This issue has been checked by
the censor.”
The Spaniards prefer their publicity after
death. Large black-bordered announcements her
ald the decease of a loved one, and the wealthier
the victim, the larger the announcement, so it
is not uncommon to see one entire page of a
journal given to the advertising of a death in the
family.
A stranger in a strange land finds many
strange things.
For instance, the shocking hours they keep
in Spain will get you down at first. You think
you have landed in an exceptional pension when
the meals are scheduled for 10 in the morning,
2 in the afternoon and 9 at night. You haven't.
The theaters raise their curtains at 10:30,
the cabarets never move until after midnight, and
I have awakened at four in the morning to find
the gaiety at its height.
In my brash Americanism, I visited two or
three cabarets at 12 o’clock, and came away
thoroughly disgusted at the utter inactivity of
these drink and and dance establishments. On
two accasions my companion and I were actually
alone in the large auditorium, except for a dozen
or more hostesses, which doesn’t seem such a
tough break at that. Then we learned. Next
time we took in a show first and landed at the
cabaret at two o’clock, to find the merry-making
just starting. Somewhere close to six, I imagine,
the party breaks up. I have to depend on my
imagination, because I couldn't keep my eyes
open after four.
Each afternoon from one to three all shops
are closed, and the Spaniards have a siesta, but
remain open until eight “in the afternoon.” A
confession of Spanish temperament are the iron
shutters lowered over every shop window for
the night.
Returning to the pension after ten o’clock in
the evening you will find the huge oaken door
bolted and barred. The correct procedure in this
case is to clap loudly. Presently, from out the
shadows, a sereno, or night watchman, appears,
jangling a huge ring of keys. The serenos are
hired by the Householders in the vicinity to open
the doors for the guests, but custom dictates a
little palm-crossing. However, I had vowed to
spend not one coin in tips, except for the ten
percent that is usually added to your hotel bill
and often to your cafe bill, for service.
I held my vow, but at considerable cost. Find
ing that I had no intention of slipping him a
peseta now and then, the cheerful young Span
iard who was my sereno in Malaga, developed
acute deafness. Each night I stood in the cold
air for a few minutes longer, usually sidling in
with a more generous guest for whom the night
watchman immediately appeared.
My last evening ip the gem city of Andalucia,
before taking a tramp freighter for Barcelona, I
wanted some sleep. So 1 invited a member of
the family with whom I had been staying, to he
my guest. It cost me a couple of dollars.
But I Jiii not tip the sereno.
Other Editors’ Opinions
HK Poisonous Virus of Modern Youth."
1 Harsh words, those; Yet that’s the title or
an article by Kathleen Norris, well-known jour
nalist, which appears in the September “Column
ist's Review." But no one need be too greatly
alarmed over youth's poisonous virus (social
mindedness) because Miss Norris has a solution
for it all curb youth.
Unfortunately or fortunately, there are those
who disagree with Miss Norris. They don’t de
plore the fact, as she does, that youth has be
come “social-minded.”
Some people, on the contrary, are rather
happy about it. They seem to feel that what this
country needs is a little social progress. They
even go so far as to think that youth should be
given an opportunity to develop its own princi
ples.
“Their absurdities have been permitted to
develop until their most ridiculous opinion is re
ceived with respect." says Miss Norris of youth.
Perhaps it is not so much that absurdities
ire received with respect as that intolerance has
given away to tolerance. No longer do parents
wash the mouths of their offsprings for saying
"Communism." People are beginning to listen to
both sides of a question and to keep an open
mind.
It may be hard for Miss Norris to conceive of
the present generation growing up with and ac
cepting the theory that free trade of ideas results
in the ultimate good. But it is just as hard for
us to conceive of a class brought up to shudder
at any innovation in the social system being a
progressive force in human affairs. Syracuse
Dally Orange.
Again I See In Fancy
By FREDERIC S. DUNN
“WAKE KLATAWA”
The Eutaxians were in session
one afternoon in January of 1883.
The Secretary had just read the
minutes of the last regular ses
sion. The President, tall, mystic Dr.
Etta Coggswell, ’83, had poised
her gavel, making the usual in
quiry as to “corrections or addi
tions,” when an apparition stood
in the midst.
There had been no alarm at the
door, no perceptible turning of the
knob, not a sound in premonition.
But there she stood, a buxom, full
blooded Indian sqaw. Moccasined,
kerchiefed, her hair in braids, she
beamed good - naturedly, even
laughed merrily, at the consterna
tion she had created at this “povf
wow” of the pale-face women.
Now, there was no section in
Robert's Rules of Order, not even
a footnote, advising how to deal
with a parliamentary crisis like
this, an Indian in uninvited visita
tion upon a literary society. Even
if there had been been, there is not
a doubt that not One of those as
tounded Eutaxians would have
known how to apply it.
And, despite the fact that this
portly squaw was grinning and
chuckling and jabbering in Chin
ook, there were timid girls in the
Hall of the Eutaxians who remem
bered Indian atrocities of the last
four years, the Nez Perce War, the
dreaded name of Chief Joseph, the
uprising of the Bannacks in Idaho
territory, the pacificating visit of
General Sherman not so very long
ago, the 125 foot square stockade
built by the people of Palouse
country which at one time housed
two hundred refugees from antic
ipated massacre. Could this squaw
have a tomohawk concealed about
her person?
When the President, after a gasp
or two, began to recover some little
equipoise, the Marshal was request
ed to escort Sackahontas to the
I door. Mary Dorris-Condon, ’83,
looked very diminutive as she at
tempted to make overtures of con
ciliation to the Amazon. But, no,
Pocajaweea was not so inclined.
She chattered something like ‘Wake
klatawa,’ which the horrified Cen
sor interpreted as meaning ‘No, not
go.’ The Eutaxians were helpless,
—one squaw holding at bay a dozeu
and a half white women,—and she
knew it.
After about ten minutes of in
terregnum during which neither or
der nor decorum could be main
tained, the apparition vanished of
its own volition, ‘as suddenly and
mysteriously as she had appeared.’
And Emma Cornelius-Howell, ’83,
Editor for the Laurean-Eutaxian
Column, writes that the society fi
nally settled down to routine busi
ness and election of officers.
(Cf. Eugene City Guard, Jan. 20,
1883).
Next in the series, A JOKE ON
JOSH.
Air Y’
Listenin’
By James Morrison
Emerald of the Air
Today Kenneth Clair, well known
:o KORE listeners, will entertain
with some accordion solos.
Woodrow Truax, Emerald radio
iditor, tells me there is going to be
i big shake-up next week in Em
;rald of the Air programs, the ex
ict character of which he did not
disclose.
# *
Local Hands
Back McGowan's orchestras do
the honors tonight at the Theta, Al
oha Phi, and ZTA pledge dances.
Tomorrow evening the ATO's and
their girl friends will dance to the
music of Dan Hall, a 10-piece band
from Portland. McGowan will fur
nish music for the Delts, Betas.
Theta Chis, and Chi Psis.
Jack Mills and his orchestra will
be at the Park tonight. Some of
the band’s recent engagements in
clude Chermot' ballroom. Omaha;
El Torreon ballroom, Kansas City;
Covey's Cocoanut Grove, Salt Lake;
and the Club Victor in Seattle.
Stars of R(t«lio
Popular song writers aren't the
only burglars in tlie music business!
Maybe they do snitch a bar from
Tschaikowsky now and then, or a
note from Bach, but the classic
ists themselves had a habit of shop
lifting the other lad's music, ac
cording to Dr. Sigmun Spaeth,
famed "tune detective."
“Handel was one of the most fla
grant examples of the gentle art of
music pilfering." said Spaeth. "He
constantly borrowed other people's
music. So did Beethoven, who used
some of Brahm's themes. Then
Brahms evened up scores for Mo
cart by borrowing from Beethoven."
Fraternity brothers are noted for
borrowing each other's money, ties,
suits, etc., but according to Spaeth,
Richard Wagner went still further.
He used to swipe whole themes from
his father-in-law. Ltszt. His fam
ous Prize Song was snitched from a
vt-lia ,-i.uta of Ltszt and v.’heu
somebody mentioned the fact, his
reply was, “Any fool can tell that!”
Chips from the Hollywood radio
block: Now that Christmas is ap
proaching Jack Benny is trying to
decide on a present for Johnny
Green, his new orchestra leader.
Benny will welcome suggestions
from his fans; just address him care
of the NBC studios, Hollywood . . .
Bing Crosby is practicing for his
new song series to start December
5 in the film capital . . . Johnny
Green is up bright and early every
morning for a canter over the Bev
erly Hills bridle paths . . . Harriet
Hilliard, known to her husband as
Mrs. Ozzie Nelson, is no less the
new sensation of the RKO lot . . .
so much so that she has been taken
out of a comparatively minor part
in one picture to do an important
tole in the new Fred Astaire film
“Follow the Fleet” . . .
Kenny Baker, 23-year-old tenor
recently heard with the Eddie Du
chin, Ozzie Nelson, and A1 Lyons
orchestras from the Cocoanut Grove
of the Ambassador hotel, will sue
ceed Michael Bartlett as vocalist on
Jack Benny's program shows.
The outcome of the more impor
tant football games to be played in
all parts of the United States this
weekend will be predicted by Nor
man Sper at 10:15 this evening.
Countess Olga Albani and James
Melton will be featured in the lead
ing roles in the Palmolive Beauty
Box theatre presentation of “Sari"
tonight at 8:30.
1SBC-CBS Programs Today
2:30 p. m.—Sperry Special Ha
zel Warner, the Song Bird of the
West.
5:30 — Kellogg College Prom—
Ruth Etting, blues singer; girls’
trio; Red Nichols' orchestra. KPO,
KOMO. KGW.
7:00—Campanas First Nighter
drama, “The Melody Lingers On."
KGW, KFI.
7:30 — Elgin Campus Revue.
Mills Brothers and Art Kassel and
his Kassels in the Air orchestra;
Campus •>
❖ Exchanges
By Bill Marsh
The Road to Ruin
We were interested in an article
in a recent copy of the “New York
er” which disclosed a side to the
life of a pigeon that we never real
ized existed. It seems that pigeons,
instead of being the staid, dignified
birds they appear to be, like noth
ing better than to cluster around
distilleries where they eat the mash
and get stiff.
We've always marvelled at a pig
eon's ability to get right out from
under the wheels of an automobile.
But the .other day we saw a pig
eon that wasn’t quick enough on
the draw, and he got run over. We'll
bet a dime to a doughnut that the
little devil was too cockeyed to
walk. Note to the W.C.T.U.: The
curse of drink has even invaded the
animal kingdom.
A Democrat?
Mentioning the “New Yorker”
brought to our memory a rather
amusing tale of a New Yorker that
wasn’t the name of a magazine.
It seems that ex-President Hoo
ver was lunching at a well-known
grille in New York City one noon,
and a chap whose impeccable eve
ning attire was somewhat rumpled
by having obviously slept in it hap
pened to wander past Herbert’s ta
ble. Once past he stopped, went
through a painful period of concen
tration, then ambled alcoholically
back to Hoover's table. There he
proceeded to stare at Mr. Hoover's
cherubic countenance until the ex
president looked up from his food
and said, “Good afternoon.”
“Good afternoon, hell,” the stew
replied. “Did anyone ever tell you
how much you look like that s— of
a b— Hoover ?”
* 3: *
Words of Wisdom
Not so very long ago a college
student in Los Angeles asked the
late Will Rogers for some advice.
Will's reply was not only typical
Hal Totten, sports commentator.
NBC.
8:00 — Music Appreciation hour.
Dr. Walter Damrosch. KPO, KFT,
KGW.
8:30 — Palm Olive Beauty Box
theatre, presenting “Sari.” KPO,
KGW.
10:15 — Sport forecasts. Norman
Sper. NBC.
but illuminating. He said, “I won't
give you any adivce—that's the
trouble with the older generation
today—they’re all so busy giving
the younger generation advice that
they haven't any time to figure out
what to do with themselves—if I
were you. I'd quit looking for advice
from old fools like myself and go
see Mae West’s new picture."
Museum Buys Prize
Winning Painting
A painting entitled “Spring
Landscape,” done by Professor
Andrew Vincent of the art school,
has been purchased for the Seattle
Art Museum.
Word of the purchase of the pic
ture was received from Richard E.
Fuller, president and director of
the Seattle museum.
The painting recently won first
honorable mention in the annual
Northwest Artists Exhibition held
in the Seattle Art Museum in Vol
unteer Park.
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