The Oregon Daily Emerald, published daily during the college year except Sundays,
Mondays, holidays, and final examination periods by the Associated Students, University
of Oregon. Subscription rates: $1.25 per term and $3.00 per year. Entered as second
class master at the postoffice, Eugene, Oregon.
HELEN ANGELL. Editor
FRED O. MAY, Busineu Manager
Ray Schrick, Managing Editor
Jack Billings, News Editor
Betty Jane Biggs, Advertising Manager
Elizabeth Edmunds, National Advertising Manager
Editorial board : Buck Buchwach, Chuck Boice, Betty Jane Biggs, Ray Schrick; Pro
fessor George Turnbull, adviser.
UPPER NEWS STAFF
Lte Flatberg, Sports Editor
Erling Erlandson, Assistant Sports Editor
Fred Treadgold, Assistant Sports Editor
Corrine Nelson, Mildred Wilsotv
Co-Women’s Editors
Herb Penny, Assistant Managing Editor
Joanne Nichols, Executive Secretary
Mary Wolf, Exchange Editor
Duncan Wimpress, Chief Desk Editor
Ted Bush, Chief Night Editor
John Mathews, Promotion Editor _
Joanne Dolph, Assistant News Editor
UPPER BUSINESS STArr
Helen Rayburn, Layout Manager
Helen Flynn, Office Manager
J_x>is Clause, Circulation Manager
Connie Fullmer, Classified Manager
Represented for national advertising by NATIONAL ADVERTISING SERVICE,
INC., college publishers’ representative, 420 Madison Ave., New York—Chicago— Boston—
Loa Angeles—San Francisco—Portland and Seattle. _
1941 Member 1942
Pissociated Colle&iate Press
VoteM Not VictiniA . . .
rJAOMORROW 1046 Oregon students will be given what is
to most of them their first opportunity to exercise their
right to vote in governmental affairs.
This right lias been theirs for 165 years. They are accustomed
to this privilege of free expression for or against the adminis
tration. It rests lightly on their shoulders.
Tomorrow they will leave their classrooms, join a friend and
under Oregon’s new-born sun they will stroll to the polls.
They experience a faint excitement as they slip their first
ballot into the box.
* * * # ■
CROSS the gray Pacific on small islands, formerly noticed
' only as dots on the map, Oregon graduates and classmates
are fighting for this peaceful voicing of the opinion of our
government.
In Japan, in Germany, in Italy the people never know a
free and unbiased election. If they go to the polls, they are
driven there with bayonets to “approve” the latest move of
their dictatorial leader. A vote of “no” is a plain vote for
suicide.
Other European countries—Holland, Switzerland, Poland,
France—have had this power to vote stripped from them.
They have become victims not voters of the government.
Tomorrow Oregon students should realize that they are
exercising right of a free citizen in a free democracy, a price
less possession which fewer and fewer nations can boast. As
they walk down the campus with laughing friends not ushered
by bayonets, as they pass a non-beligerent cop, as they vote
for or against the administration, they are doing their duty
as a free citizen of the government, not a cowered servant for
the government.-—B.J.B.
i
I
Jda&t
By MARY WOLF
"Weak soap” can be used by
Physicians to cure chronic snor
ing, Dr. Jerome F. Strauss, pro
fessor at the University of South
ern California, told the laryngo
logical and otological society last
week in Chicago, The “weak
soap” hardens the tissues of the
throat and nose.
True snoring, said Dr. Strauss,
is a coarse, low-pitched noise
produced by vibrations of the soft
tissues in the nose and throat of
the sleeper.
The resulting noise might vary
in intensity, but never in pitch
because the resonant material
has a “natural periodic vibra
tion” that never varies in fre
quency and does not produce noise
until it is vibrated at that fre
quency, Dr. Strauss explained.
The cure, said the physician,
is in hardening the tissues with
sodium, psylliate, a weak soap.
Gene Williams, Phi Gam fresh
man at the University of Kansas,
is a victim of the new rage of
the scientific world he claims
to have become a victim of the
mumps germ by mental telepathy.
His brother, who is inattendanee
at Oklahoma U., contracted the
disease one day last week, the
next day Gene also had the
mumps.
s s *
An unknown lad paid for the
following which appeared in one
of last week's Daily Texans:
LOST: Vicinity Petroleum En
gineering building one thirty-inch
sucticn hose with mouthpiece.
Slightly worn. Notify Charles E.
Grant, 1845 Osage.
Story behind ad: Grant was
being attributed with having a
great deal of suction with his
professors.
Result: Grant was looking for
the unknown lad Saturday. There
was fire in Grant’s eye.
* * *
If Prof. Karl Sax of Harvard's
botany department has his way,
all “fat flabby, pot-bellied uni
versity professors will take com
pulsory physical training.
Undergraduates began a com
pulsory exercise program April 6.
and Professor Sax believes facul
ty members should join them in
their four-hour-a-week workouts.
In a letter to the Harvard
Crimson, college daily, he writes
that last fall a dozen professors
eagerly began exercises, but en
thusiasm waned so quickly that
only four or five redoubts whe
ther many of his fellow teachers
would be able to follow the stu
dent conditioning program.
Professor Sax practices what
he preaches. The 50-year-old rug
ged teacher hoes his calisthenics
at a college gym twice a week
with his son, William P. Sax, a
Harvard sophomore.
fjoM jjOJl
Bn&abjcut
By TED HALLOCK
To make with an extremely
rough idea as to how rumors get
around, note the following: frill®
from Portland, coming here for
this all state music contest, are
arriving with the sincere expec
tancy that Glenn Miller is to
play for Mortar Board. How or
v/hy the illusion is present would
be difficult to analyze. It’ll scare
hell out of them to see Holman.
Just something else abou our fair
greensward to disenchant pros
pective Webfeet (press colloquial
ism used to describe Eugene resi
dents).
No Go
Tom Todd didn’t take the ivory
tower that Teagarden offered af
ter all. Said Todd: “High school
is all. Music is but trivial.” Said
father Todd: “I agree perfectly
with Tom. And if he hadn’t said
just that I would have beaten the
*lb@lbtb*rb** out of him.” Said
grieving Tea: “That’s all right
gate. Any time you want to step
in the band, the spot’s yourn.”
And to think we nearly scooped
Downbeat yet.
Add campi cat of the week:
Mrs. Ruby Marks, housemother
at Sigma Kappa house. Reason:
this Gene Leo is playing solo 88
at the annual housemother’s par
ty; playing the kind of jazz he is
wont to play, even at the annual
housemother’s party. So an eld
erly woman is strolling up, and
Leo is thinking “This is where
I am getting the needle for ‘Rose
of the Rio Grande’.” But no. This
pleasing female is sitting down
and talking like Bix about the
Austin High gang and Chicago
when Winchell and Capone got
haircuts in the same tonsorial
parlor. Really knowing her jazz.
Hew about that.
It Happened Here
The kick of all time occurred
during the Junior Weekend lunch
eon. It would seem that Scott’s
band, a bunch of rosy cheeked
fellows blowing hard, are play
ing their left ear out through the
end cf a Conn 2-A cornet on
“There’ll Be Some Changes
Made” all loud and pretty, when
some unidentified character is
dashing down the steps of Mc
Clure, running to the fore and
shouting “Cease.” Just like that.
“Stop all this infernal racket,”
he says, “who is responsible for
this noise.” So leader Scott, not
thinking his playing should be
left at noise, is saying, “I am,
and what are you rambling about,
peps.” So it turns out that this
individualist who demands re
cluse is a professor of science who
is working diligently on the dis
section of a pholographialogo
trophis’ left lobe when the faint,
lilting strains of jazz disturbs his
work. So not being exactly a cat,
he becomes very unhappy and
threatens to have the entire week
end called off because of pholo
graphialogotrohpls.
Buck to Muriel
To get back to Muriel Meier,
after three months (and who
wouldn't want to get back to Mu
riel Meier after three months, or
even three days), there is noth
ing more pleasing in this old
world than her inimitable rendi
tion of “Tangerine,” not even
"And Where Were You Mac
Pherson When the Lights Went
Out Huh" in F. Just ask her to
sing it for you. Anytime. The kid
is reet. Sings sort of like Billie
Holiday, Helen O'Connell and an
unknown character in a check
ered jacket seen loitering near
Kelly's Stables on January four
teenth.
College enrollment in French
classes has dropped 23.5 per cent,
and in German 11 per cent, since
last September.
You’re in the Army Now*
A few months ago W. Henson Purcess wrote a letter to his
son, a Utah college student, who had just been drafted.
The letter has been reprinted several times because it seems
to be a real classic. Following are excerpts:
J^EAR BILL:
Well, son, you are going into the army. There is a job of:
serious, nasty, uncivilized business to be taken care of amt
you have been assigned a part in it.
The task is unpleasant, repulsive. The assignment is dif
ferent to anything you had planned. Yet it is a privilege as
well as a responsibility. For only Americans-—the pick of
nation’s manhood—are eligible to march with Uncle Sam’s
armed citizenry and participate in this grim game of war.
As you go from your fine home and splendid university into
the army, I want you to put al you have in this business of
soldiering. It matters not whether you wear bars or stars
if you are man enough to be a good soldier. And being a good
soldier means more than drilling and marching and fighting—
and dying.
It means living—in a man’s world—as a man should live.
There is on the part of many men, once they’re in the army,
away from the influence of home and family and reputation,
an inclination to cut loose, to go the gaits. In the army, as in
civilian life, there is every type of manhood'and social strata.
Every man is on his own. The choice is yours.
jy£EN, like water, ultimately seek their own level—in tin?'
army as elsewhere. Don’t lower your standards, Bill.
There are two things 1 am sending you this week—both
went with me to the army 25 years ago. One is a khaki-covered
textbook on military methods and soldiery. Peruse its pages
and endeavor to master the art of being a good soldier. It may
not bring you promotion and high honors, but it will bring
you the satisfaction of doing well whatever you do. It will
help you to learn more quickly what is expected of a good
soldier.
The other, also khaki-covered, is a Bible. Don’t feel that
to take it is being a sissy. There will no doubt be times when
just to hold it in your hand will bring a mysterious comfort.
1 confess that 1 read it but little while I was in uniform. Yet
there were times when its nearness—the knowledge that
had stood the test of all time and countless other wars—seemed
to sort of satisfy my longing for you and Mom—lull my home
sickness for all the peaceful ways of life that had been disrupt
ed by war.
'I'AKE them. Bill, and use them. Make the most of the army
and come back a better man than when you left. There
is, you know, a personal as well as a national victory to be won.
It seems a bit silly, doesn’t it, to send you away with a sun
in one hand and a Bible in the other? The gun to kill. The
Bible: “Thou Shalt Not.’’ There is no explanation except that
the gun appears for the present to be necessary to our national
security. The Bible has ever been our hope of eternal security
I remember well that day, almost 24 years ago, when sitting
in a lecture period at Camp Gordon, 1 was handed a telegram
that announced that you had made me a father. I was the
soldier. You were the war baby.
1 remember the day, four months later, when I gazed for
tlie first time upon your face. I remember every day of your
hie since that time. I shall watch—and pray—evet'y anxious
day for your return.
When ,a on have a son of your own some day, as I hope
a on shall, a ou a\ ill knoAv what I mean. I hope your going to the
ai inj' a\ ill be more successful in freeing your sons from the
scourge of Avar than ivas mine for you.
Learn to use the gun, Bill, but rely, finally, upon the Bible.
Your Father.
Princeton u. has |
THE LARGEST COLLECT- ,
ION OF DEATH MASKS
("PORTRAITS IN PLASTER")
IN THE UNITED STATES'.
w
THRU THE DISCOVERY' '
OF OIL ON ITS LANDn
THE UNIVERSITY OF
TEXAS HAS PRO
FITED TO THE EXTENT
OF * 30,000.000/
The senior class at murlenburg
COLLEGE IS ALLOWED TO PLANT IVY
IF THEY ARE ALL
BACHELORS /
ft HASN'T BEEAJ <
PLANTED FOR
29 YEARS/