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About Oregon daily emerald. (Eugene, Or.) 1920-2012 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 3, 1945)
LITERARY PAGE A Fools Love... By MARJORIE WERNER She set the small bag down in front of the window that had the word “tickets” on it. The rain rolled off her coat in large drops as she said, “A one-way ticket to Eddings.” Before she sat down in the depot, she checked the board which said that her train would be on time. Not long to wait, and in a few hours she would be home. She hadn't been home for two years. Two years and three months to be exact. Perhaps she could even figure it down to the weeks and days if she wanted to think long enough. But Lou was trying hard not to think. Her Mother “You can get out of my house and stay out,” her mother had said angrily, “if that’s the way you want to live. “If all you want to think about is men, dates, good times, late hours, and all that sort of rot, you can go somewhere else! I didn't raise my daughter to be a gad about! I always wanted you to amount to something. You’re hope less!” Lou was not hopeless. She was 17, and she wanted just a little good fun; maybe a date once ip a while or some friends at the house in the evenings. Her mother never could understand, and her father never had the chance to understand. The dates Lou had had could have been counted on one hand alone, and a kiss was still a word to her. She was 17, and she wanted to .live a little. She wanted to do th^things that other respectable girls her age did. Lou took the morning train out of Eddings. That was two years and three months ago. Lou found Detroit exciting, her new friend Carol interesting, and their apartment comfortable. She had a good job in one of the banks and enough dates to cut her meal ticket in half. Lou was happy, and, after all, wasn’t happiness the thing she had desired? The darkness outside the depot was impenetrable, and the rain beat down in torrents. It was a nasty night, and she was glad she was inside where it was warm and light. A negro soldier shifted in his sleep on the hard wooden bench. Paul Webster “I always wondered if I could ever fall in love,” she mused. “Paul Webster tried awfully hard to con vince me that I could. Matter of fact, he did convince me. I cer tainly was a fool. “He stood there at the side of the dance floor when I first saw him. He was tall, good looking, rind apparently wasn’t hunting for feminine companionship. Carol told me who he was. When he asked me to dance, I was haPPy all over. Don't know why; I had danced with men before. Maybe it was because this particular man had a charm that broke a path ahead of him wherever he went.” Lou went over to get a; drink, and she looked at the schedule board as she returned to her seat. The train would be half an hour late. “Paul called me several times after that evening. I was happy then, but now I wish that he had never remembered my name. “He took me to dinners, dances, parties, and his club. I’ll never forget the first orchid he sent. “It was a beautiful orchid and the first one that I had ever worn. I’m glad that I had a new dress for that evening. I wanted Paul to be proud.” Lou crossed one shapely leg over the other and shifted into a ,more comfortable position. The negro solder still slept, and a fat woman with three sleepy children fell down onto the seat next to Lou’s. Love “TFor some strange reason, I hurriedly lost interest in the other dates I had. Strange that I should want to sit home in the evenings and hope for a call from Paul. He didn’t call every night—far from it. I wanted him to, though. “I wondered how much Paul liked me, but he would never com mit himself. He would just say, WHITE ANKLETS 100% white wool with large turned down cuffs. Ribbed tops like you adore. Sizes 9 to 11 89c Gordon’s 1050 Willamette Phone 1084 ‘You’re a wonderful girl, Lou,' and kias me like he meant to say more. I was satisfied with his kisses because they were just exactly like people said they would be. “At Dick’s cocktail party I finally decided that I was in love. It might have been the cocktails, but I was in love a long time after the cocktails wore off. It was then that I told Paul that I was in love because I was tired waiting for him to tell me. “That must have been the right key, or else the right amount of drinks for Paul because he finally said what I wanted him to say although I had to prompt him a little.” The train would not arrive for ten more minutes. The negro sol dier came back to life and looked at the train schedule. The fat lady wheezed. Paul’s Deception “I knew then that Paul was and always would be the only man for me. I wanted him (I was a fool), and I wanted him to want me. He now spoke passionately of love, and I was afraid for myself. He wouldn’t speak of rtlarriage. May be the thought was driven out each time he mentally subtracted 19 from 27 and weighed the dif ference. At that time I thought that that could be the reason. How wrong I was. “I’ll never forget the hurt I felt all over when I waited a week for a phone call from Paul. At the end of two weeks I thought I would never be able to tolerate such mental pain. “I shouldn’t have called his club but I did. I was practically insane although I showed more insanity by calling. “The tears really poured down my cheeks as the clerk said, ‘Mrs. Webster stopped her divorce pro ceedings, and she and Mr. Web ster left a week ago for Chicago'.” Going Home It had stopped raining, but it was just as blaqk outside as it had been. The negro soldier was gone. The fat lady gathered her brood about her, and Lou picked up her bag. Her overdue train was an nounced, and Lou walked blindly out to the tracks. “Is this the car for Eddings?’’ she asked a porter. With an affirmative nod from the red-cap. she walked up the steps. In a few more hours she would be home. Clips and Comments (Continued from page two) half of a room with a soldier left.’ ‘We’ll take It,’ the girls answered spontaneously.” * * * i University of Alabama asked Van Johnson to select beauties for the 1946 annual. * * * A “sandwich date,” someone just explained to us, is one male with no less than two female campanions. Some poor souls have had to escort as many as ten gals at a time. * * * “I wonder what she has that we haven’t got?” a pretty coed asked when discusson came up about a friend of hers. “She’s had four dtaes in her junior year alone.” Why don’t we have an all campus bridge tournament? Per haps it could be a benefit for one of the annual campus drives. Kansas university attacked sup pression of news from the Daily Kansan when the student council refused to give them an account of a meeting. % So&uUeA TO SOCRATES A flaming torch your brain cast sparks of thought, 1 hat reason s light did set afire in man, And new flames of wisdom grew in span. A priceless thing was this, not to be bought But given free to those who have long sought l'°r it through years with firm and steady plan Of that to learn before the course they ran Of life was done, with all the things it brought. A gadfly, you did sting the steed of state To action, once too oft for thy best good; And those, who in their hearts did wisdom hate. Destroyed the mind that heard and understood. ^ hat thought thou, sage of Athens awaiting fate AV hen hemlock’s bitter cup before you stood? —Darrell Daniel Boone. Oh0 Youth is a bright flame Which is slowly quenched into age’s dying embers By the cool rising waters of time. —Darrell Daniel Boone * * * MooH/U&e (In the Chinese manner) A pearl of matchless beauty floating high Above the silver earth in crystal seas Of night; the moon incased the lonely brook With living, shining, searing flame and turned My misty garden into paradise. —Darrell Daniel Boone Telling the Editor (Continued from page two) and that around your campus and answering my innumerable ques tions with indefatigable patience, I couldn’t help but notice the cemetery. Having no qualms about the sacredness of the dead myself, to say the least it represents a rough spot with its unkemptness to a could-be smooth campus. Having no quo warranto for these expostulations, maybe it’s, best that I resume my back seat. In so doing, I hope to become accustomed to the '.‘California sun shine” which drifts north by the bucketfulls so frequently. Just another of the many who hopes to find his place here, I remain, Brigg Allen. r China An old man sits before the fire of culture and life. The fire sinks into dying embers yet he patiently remains Watching for the flame to arise anew or die. Unbowed and undying he waits for eternity. —Darrell Daniel Boone * * * (In the Chinese manner) The subtle fragrance of plum blossoms drifted Thickly through the gauzy veil of falling snow To smooth my brain with the seal of peace, While I sat alone in my moun tain pavillion, Sipped pale amber tea, and laughed quietly at the comedy of Hie. —Darrell Daniel Booue i J i STOP IN AND GIVE YOUR CAE A THOROUGH CHECK-UP Before Leaving For That Washington Game! at ASSOCIATED SERVICE “On the Campus” 11th and Hilyard LAST CHANCE to get PIGGERS GUIDES Monday From 9 to 3 AT THE CO OP After Monday You Can Get Them at McArthur