►Dr. Barnett Sets
TalkThursdav
Dr. H. G. Barnett, anthropology
instructor, will speak to the Uni
versity audience on “Our Local
Race Problem—the American In
dian,’’ as the third lecture of the
winter faculty lecture series, in
Friendly hall faculty room, Thurs
day evening, February 11, at 7:30.
Dr. Barnett has been instructor
in anthropology since 1939, when
he first came to the University.
He has also filled the position of
assistant curator at the anthro
tpology museum since '39. He com
mented that while he enjoys his
work as curator, it is always sub
ordinated to his work as instruc
tor.
Dr. Barnett obtained his B.A.
in Stanford in 1937 and his Ph.D.
in 1938, in California, where he
was also acting research assist
ant. He joined the faculty of New
Mexico university in ’39, and then
came to Oregon, where he has
been ever since.
During his years of teaching, he
has varied public speaking exper
ience before community clubs as
well as classes. He has also ap
peared on two programs of the
“Higher Education Speaks” over
KOAC, speaking for the anthrolo
logical department.
Dr. Barnett has visited various
Oregon and Washington Indian
reservations pursuing his studies
J,r’n American Indians, on which
he has published numerous pa
pers.
I Cover
The Campus
(Continued from page two)
. . . Patty Van Hoosear riding a
bicycle around in the rain . . .
Delt King Martin trying to curb
the playful efforts of that black
hound Baron, as the big fellow
was trying to run wild in the li
brary . . . Ziggy Elman almost
falling off the train as the Tom
my Dorsey special hit Eugene
& . . Slidin’ around on McArthur’s
*vaxed floor to the torrid tempos
of George Carey’s orchestras . . .
Questioning Jack
A question to Johnny Mathems:
Who played the James-like trum
pet in the “Trumpet Rhapsody’’
sequence in Republic’s “Ice-ca
pades” ? . . . One more pin-hang
ing to add to the growing list:
Chi Psi Dave Gowans’ gift of a
pin to Dee-Gee Betty Sturgeon
. . . Helen Crawford, who makes
every boy feel that he’s the most
important lad in her life . . . The
pleasing hospitality of the DUs
at their Hotel Osborn formal . . .
Leone LaDuke, who knows
more about what’s going on on
this campus than a dozen column
ists . . . RAIN . . . And the Slush
Queen contest . . . Morgan, of
“Here’s Morgan’’ fame, now in
^ae air corps . . . I’ll remember
. . . Odios, Jack ....
Ad Lib
(Continued from page tzoo)
gan to tire, he’d make with a
lovely bit of trumpet.
That was the band that cut
eight sides after a 75-mile trip
and no dinner, and then went on
to kill the customers at a club
job for another three hours. That
was the band they wouldn’t let
off the stand down in southern
Oregon: an old character with a
three-days' beard went around
the audience with a hat and col
fceted three bones per man for
Pery fifty minutes of overtime.
And there wasn't a man in the
sextet who wouldn’t have given
his salary each night just for the
privilege of playing with the rest
of the boys. No wonder Hal longs
for the old days now and then.
THE UNIVERSITY OF OREGON
SCHOOL OF MUSIC
Presents
RUTH MERRITT in RECITAL
Oh Sleep. Why Dost Thou Leave Me?.
(From the opera “Semele”)
Rose, How Enchanting Art Thou.
(From the opera "Zemire and Azor”)
O del mio dolce ardor.
(O thou beloved)
Se Florindo e fedele. .
(Should Florindo be faithful)
Recitative—
“And God said, Let the earth bring forth"
Aria—
“With Verdure Clad".
(From the oratorio "The Creation”)
INTERMISSION
.G. P. Handel
(1659-1725)
.Louis Spohr
(1784-1859)
.Christofor Gluck
(1714-1787)
Alessandro Scarlatti
(1659-1725)
Joseph Haydn
Orpheus with His Lute.Arthur Sullivan
Nocturne .Michael Head
(From the song cycle "Over the Rim of the Moon”)
Lullaby.Cyril Sc alt
The Kerry Dance.James Malloy
The Last Hour.4. Walter Kramer
I Am Thy Harp.R. Huntington Woodman
A Spirit Flower.Camphell-Tipton
The Year’s at the Spring.Mrs. H. II. Beach
8:15 P.M. February 9, 1943
The Plauwriqht and the Kid John™
(Continued from parte six)
of horn and arms as the note
was born gloating- fat.
"A bit of Bix there,” said Kid
Johnny.
McDonald shook his head, not
understanding of formulating the
Kid's words into sense. “Yes,
Johnny, it's incrediable . . . the
emotion of the blues . . . simply
incredible!” At least he sounded
like a playwright.
Near a side door on the way
out the hollow rattle of dice bit
their eardrums like a rattlesnake
warning. McDonald and the Kid
gulped in the cool clean air out
side. It was minutes later, how
ever, that McDonald’s ear stopped
ringing with the slow shuffle
shuffle of many feet on the same
rhythm . . . That lonely trum
pet's whisper seemed to follow
them down town.
“Was it worth it, Jack. Did
you get youh ten skins worth?”
“Yeah, Johnny, yeah,” McDon
ald mumbled absently.
“Now you’re talkin' like a cat.
Solid MAN! Well, so long, fta’a,
You'll see rae around, Jack.”
McDonald stared .. Kid Johnny
thinking a playwright’s respect
ful thoughts.
Yes, Kid Johnny, I'll see yt ■ 1
around. You musicians with y: .;r
music from the soul. It might be
the riugh pine boards of a Caro
lina dance shack or the Astor's
.mirror-smooth surface. But you'll
be there, Kid Johnny, you'll be
there.,i
"Goodbye, Johnny."
Johnny disappeared into a pool
room down the block. Worth :C?
To McDonald the scene -was
priceless, an incredible perform
ance, and somehow it pierced his
heart with an infinite sorrow, a
nameless pit and regret. Some
thing precious had gone out of
them when they played their mu
sic and he knew it. At last he
understood the story behind the
blues. Night was made for music.
One night—and Lindsay Quern
McDonald III, playright, bad
known them forever.
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