Oregon
ANNE CRAVEN ROSEANN LECKIE
Acting Editor Business Manager
Published daily during the college year except Sundays, Mondays, ami holidays and
final examination periods by the Associated Students, University of Oregon.
Entered as second-class matter at the postoffice, Eugene. Oregon.
jEoahincj, Ahead. . .
So andfher fall term has rolled around. And along with the
usual sigfts of the season comes that old “fever” which draws
JOregon iDucks back for another year.
Old students know why they are coining to the University.
All summer they have talked of “down at school,” recalling
interesting classes, good times, and even remembering with
enjoyment the hard work that comes once in a while, especially
around filial time. They return to finish courses and because
{hey knotjv from experience that they enjoy being Webfeet.
But what about the new students? What is it that entices
members of the class of ’48 to take their higher education at
the University of Oregon? In a survey conducted by the dean
pf women, the average new student spoke of general high
standards, prominence of the particular department interesting
him, or friendliness noticed on visits to the campus and in
letters sent from the various campus departments.
It is up to the students to see that those high standards and
ratings are maintained. A department’s reputation rests on
the impression its students make once they have graduated
and gone out to practice what they have learned. If they arc?
not up to snuff, the department loses prestige. And it is at
this point that the matter conies squarely before a prospective
alumnus, In a way, the Webfoot, indebted to the University
for his training, pays off that debt by being a credit to the
school.
The ftfur years a student spends on the campus are devoted
mainly to learning enough in a particular field of work to
prepare him for the time when he is on his own. Whether or
not the jiewly-graduated student is a credit to the University
'depends upon the extent to which lie has applied himself while
in school. Never before has the privilege of attending a col
lege or university been so highly valued. And never before
has the job ahead of the young people been so tremendous.
.College graduates will take a prominent place in straightening
put the postwar world, and Oregon students can pay their
debt to the University by really digging in so that when the
|ime comes they will be ready for the important jobs
.assigned them.
By the time students reach a University, education is a
Serious business indeed. If prospective students are to continue
.writing “J am going to Oregon because I have heard it has an
(Excellent course” in music, or journalism, or architecture, or
social sciences, or any of the other prominent schools it will
be because students, as well as faculty members, have held
jtheir standards high. For a school can be no better than its
students.—M.A.C.
• • •
BacUuUf *7<4e A£14(9
No one who has studied even the rudiments of government
>vill deny the fact that money is an essential to an operating
(ruling body that carries on regular business such as elections,
(Conferences, and the work demanded in a community.
University of Oregon students are proud of their own gov
ernment which is known as the Associated Students of the
^University of Oregon. This government has received the ap
proval of the state legislature; its officers are elected by a
general ballot with all regularly enrolled students given an
(Opportunity to vote; its officers are sworn into office bv an
officer of the state government, and the ASUO is responsible
for the things the students want and enjoy—rallies, Home
coming, Dad’s Day, the War Board, mixer dances, and a
multitude of other things that make this campus a live and
interesting community.
In most communities taxes are an accepted thing that people
pay for the services they receive. Part of the tax money is
used by the governing body so it can continue to function.
Jn the community that composes the University of Oregon
Students do not have to pay a compulsory tax and until this
year they have not been asked to contribute to the support of
(their government.
This term at registration students are being asked, or perhaps
\ve should say, being given an opportunity, to help support
the ASUO. The plan is that each student shall give one dollar
.to enable the ASUO to function as a student government for
.the good of the students. This is certainly a logical plan and
one that should work well since it is the students who are
asked to contribute and the students who will benefit.
Should contributions amount to more than is necessary to
support the ASUO activities for the year the excess will find
its way to good use as part of the student union fund. What
ever the money goes for, it's still to the benefit of the University
that every student who registers today or Saturday gives a
contribution towards more student government.—E.A.N.
9tri> /III QtieeJi *1(1 J\4&
By D. M. Y.
Now I’ll never have to wake up at night tearing out my
fingernails after a long grisly nightmare during which I go
down an endless shadowy receiving line of grinning painted
mouths, putting out my hand and screaming “I’m Yankovittch,
Dodie May . . , Yankovittch, Dodie May . . Now I’ll never
Buy your
OREGANA
at Registration
today!
Price $5.50
I again have to sit in a candle-lit
room with acres of faces floating
before me and dozens of saccarine
voices asking trivial questions with
accents on every other word. Now
I’ll never again have to stand in
line waiting, waiting, waiting for
the dean to hand me the fatal
envelope as though it were a time
bomb. Now it’s all over. No more
rush week. . . .
You know when you start, of
course, that it is going to be bor
ing and nerve-cracking but you
are pretty heroic about the open
house ordeal on Saturday. Sunday
morning you wish you could stay
in bed rather than get up and dash
over to the Pan Hell headqtrs. for
your bids. Sunday afternoon is a
very grey affair but bravely you
knot on a kerchief and plod from
house to house through the bloo
bloo rain. Monday you decide you
want to drop the whole thing; just
end it all right now . . . but you
think about the kids you have al
ready wasted time on and your
mother would just die if you
didn’t pledge and your man-hebind
the - gun - in - uncle - sam’s- armc(j
forces who is a Greek. Tuesday
night your mind is numb so you
put the name of the only house
you remember on your preference
card and run for the Side and an
anaesthetic shot of straight coke.
Wednesday is the all-important
day, the red-letter day, the day
when you find out who has ex
tended to you the privilege of
membership and how far in the
red you are going to have to go to
accept, or else you will discover
that you are on the Greek black
list and very definitely behind the
8-ball in the rather acute sense of
the word. Not that you really
mind, not that you wouldn’t prefer
to live in good old John Straub
... oh no.
So all forenoon you stand in line.
Behind you a fat girl with pimple3
nervously pares her fingernails,
still hoping she will make Kappa;
in front of you stands an innocent
little creature from some small
town in Idaho—she looks like a
sweet naive freshman in a semi
nary and she’s trying to pledge
the Alpha Phis; beside you a tall,
quite 23 woman, who wears several
of those characteristic monel ship
yard bracelets and looks like a
cargo rigger, pulls down her girdle
every five minutes, hoping she is a
potential Alpha Chi O.
Finally you reach the dean’s
desk. The dean gives you a brac
ing, breezy, back-patting smile and
hands you the time bomb. You
wonder dazedly whether there is a
little white card in that envelope
labeled “Dodie May Yankoko
vittch" or whether Mrs. Schwering
has kindly given you a few grains
of morphine to deaden the pain.
Blinded by the salty spray that
trickles down your haggard cheek
you stumble across the campus to
your new sisters. The minute the
observer on the roof spots you with
her field glasses she shouts the
news to the sisters, “Ahoy, Yanko
kovittch bearing down. Full speed
to the fore.” And like a pack of
hungry sharks they gallop across
the gridiron to engulf you with
shrieks of “Darling!”
At last it is over. You have
found yourself and you are happy.
This is the happiest day of my life,
you say. The fact that Patton has
just marched into Paris and the
Yanks are crossing into Holland
and Dewey has arrived in Portland
doesn’t interest you in the least.
Because now you are a Greek and
all your dreams come true.
. . . Baby, just wait until they
start telling you what your pledge
duties are. . . .
TIME
LIFE
FORTUNE
ARCHITECTUAL
Special low rates to students
and faculty. Special booth
at Igloo or at campus agent.
the "CO-OP”
AFTER CLASSES
try a refreshing
HORSEBACK RIDE
• Excellent Horses
• Horses Boarded
EUGENE RIDING STABLES
Fairgrounds
Dura-twill, army
tan, rainproof
coats
i: Priced at $16.95