From Kathy's Pathetic^Death - #
A Lesson IriiHuman Cooperation
By Bud Hurst
WHEN LITTLE Kathy fell
down that pipe last Friday after
noon the people of San Marino,
California started rescue opera
tions with a unity of purpose
which gained for them the ad
miration of the whole world.
The well-drillers did not ask
who they should send their bill
to; the sandhogs did not inquire
after Kathy's religious beliefs be
fore they went down to try and
save her life; the people who
brought food for the workers did
not even ask their party affilia
tions.
They all knew that a little
three and one-half year old girl
was in serious trouble and they
had to get her out. Without any
words, haggling, bargaining or
speeeh making, they set about it.
LITTLE KATHY was just one
human being among billions. Her
troubles are over, death has put
an end to them. The other people
in the world still have plenty of
trouble. They are on the brink of
a war that will spare but few of
them. Many men and women are
working hard trying to prevent
that war but never, never once,
have they displayed anything ap
proaching the speed, fervor or
sense of urgency in their negotia
tions that were so in evidence this
past weekend in a Pasadena sub
urb.
The plight of one little girl
raptured the sympathies of the
entire world, yet that world re
mains apathetic about its chanc
es for a lasting peace.
THE PLIGHT of one little girl
created in a large group of men a
desire to come to her aid even
when they knew their own lives
would be in great danger, yet
the plight of the world in general
has failed so far to bring forth
one single act of self-sacrifice on
the part of any nation.
The plight of one little girl has
therefore proved a lesson worth
learning to the rest of the world.
How well we have learned our les
son will be shown in whether on
not we are able to set aside self
righteousness, greed, avarice and
all the prejudices of many years
and start to work making a last
ting peace as fast and as ardent
ly as those people in San Ma
rino started their job.
THE DEATH of one little girl
has brought sorrow to the hearts
of millions—the death of the
world may also bring sorrow to
someone. That depends on how
many are left to cry.
• • •
Shake Well Before
Frankly, we’re confused—and expect to be more confused
next year.
It’s that new academic calendar that’s causing the brow
furrows and migraines.
As we see it, the calendar lists these changes:
1) The 1950 commencement is set eight days earlier than
this year's graduation.
2) The week vacation between winter and spring terms will
be eliminated.
3) Winter term, a short quarter, will be made longer “in an
effort to equalize the terms.”
4) Finals will begin on peculiar days such as Thursday and
Friday.
5) Winter and spring terms, registration and the first day
of classes will be on the same day.
From what we could gather, the spring vacation was elimi
nated mainly to provide a longer vacation for faculty members
between commencement and the beginning of summer session.
The faculty is deserving of a vacation before greeting am
bitious summer school students; the students are deserving of
a holiday before picking up the books springs term. It's more
or less a toss-up as to who should be happy. Oregon State com
i prised and shortened their school year by a week, keeping the
spring vacation.
The early dismissal may bring advantages to a number of
students, however. Undergraduates should find it easier to
pick up odd jobs when they are not out a week later than other
colleges.
For graduates, it won’t make much differences. Their con
tacts are made long in advance of commencement.
The confusion comes in the equalizing of terms.
Winter term is shorter than the other terms, under the ex
isting calendar. With the new plan, winter term is lengthened
about a week to almost equal the number of days in the present
spring term.
But—next year’s spring term is shortened to equal the
much complained about winter term of former years.
And to accomplish this astounding equalization, first day
of classes and registration day will coincide, and, as we said
before, finals will begin in the middle of the week.
It almost would be simpler to go by the moon.—B.H.
Same Old Stand
By Toni Marquis
I am unhappy, disgruntled, and
in general perturbed. 1 have been
reading A1 Laney’s PARIS HER
ALD and the
tilings 1 learned
about .pleasant,
carefree news
papering' have
got me pretty
upset.
Reporters on
t h e Emerald
who think they
have good beats
should read the
fabulous Spar
whose boat included every hot
spot in Paris. The Sparrow it ap
pears was not averse to taking a
nip or two on occasion nor it
seems was any other Herald man.
Maybe this is what gave the pa
per the flavor of carefree aban
don that made it world famous.
In any event the entire routine
was quite different from that re
quired to assemble the HAL
LOWED pages of the Emerald. I
might try to do something about
it, but I have to go to work every
few hours and the housemother is
rather narrow-minded on the sub
ject of inebriated houseboys. Also
my mother reads this stuff.
Enough said.
S: S * *
It is getting- so a guy can‘t go
through the cemetery any more
between the hours of 10 p.m. and
1 p.m. without getting involved
in a traffic jam. More people are
spending time there of late than
they are in Taylor’s dr The Side.
Somebody ought to wise up and
start charging toll. If this weath
er holds there'd be a fortune in it.
* * *
Spring is the time for house
cleaning and maybe a good time
for a project or two. One that
seems especially interesting is
the battle of the sexes.
If any of your guys have pot
peeves about certain activities of
the little woman—or women—
(Please turn to page seven)
It's Spring In New York, Too
By Hal Boyle
NEW YORK—(AP) Ya-a-wvv
w- - - n-n-nnn!
I guest spring is really here
Spring fever is
• anyway. And
I the season of
gentle m e 1 a n
choly and pleas
ant foolishness
is upon us.
It is a time of
dreamy, peace
for the common
i man, as his
* mind and body
prepare for the
chemistry of summer. But it is
also a time of great wars. Ambi
tious leaders through all history
have picked this season to un
leash the armies they have built
up through the winter. The
ground has firmed for the mar
tial foot.
But this year looks like anoth
er of the years the world treas
ures—a year of peace. The bugle
hangs on the wall, brightly pol
ished but unblown. No mighty
armies are massed for attack . . .
that we know of.
Spring comes to the city in
small surprises. Down where I
live you can tell it best by the
sudden, increase of perambula
tors. The poor man on the lower
East Side may never hope to own
a motor car. But he will go with
out a suit to see that his new
baby rides in the finest buggy in
the neighborhood.
A day arrives when the air
wears a chill in the shade and a
sudden softness in the sun. And
the sidewalks bloom with thou
sands of baby buggies, alive with
posterity and the voices of to
morrow.
Across the East river a few
buds burst open on the tree that
grows in Brooklyn. And here in
Manhattan you’d think the cold
skyscrapers themselves would
erupt in greenery—thrust out
limbs and leaves to catch the
warmth. And perhaps some day
they will, and turn this stony wil
derness into a green garden of
the spirit.
You can live here all your life
and never see a robin or a blue
bird, the heralds of spring else
where. But tlie pigeons aren’t a
bad substitute. The pavement is
alive with their courtships—love
underfoot—and their cooing can
be heard half a block.
Up in Central park they begin
to put out the boats for the sail
Oregon W Emerald
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: $2.00 per term and $4.00 per year. Entered as second-class matter
at the post office, Eugene, Oregon.
BILL YATES, Editor VIRGIL TUCKER, Business Manager
Associate Editors: June Goetze, Boblee Brophy, Diana Dye, Barbara Heywood
Advertising Manager: Joan Minnaugh
BOB REED, Managing Editor
Assistant Managing Editors: Stan Turnbull, Don Smith
ors. People often have wondered
why sailors fresh from the sea
go there to row boats around the
lake. There is no mystery about
it. They go there because, as one
sailor told me, “it’s a wonderful
place to meet a girl."
There isn’t much the average
man does here to show how
spring affects him. He dares a
brighter necktie. He dawdles and
day dreams more. And I think
the doodling on his desk pad
changes in a subtle way. But that
would take a crytographic Dr.
Kinsey to interpret.
The girls, as always, are more
demonstrative. Oh, the girls, the
beautiful girls of New York. They
break out in more colorful dress
es. They plump in unexpected
places. And is it only imagina
tion that there is more of a wag
gle in their walk?
The icy receptionist shows a
thawing heart and she turneth
away the salesman at the door
without wrath. A gleam comes
into the housewife’s eye. She
wraps an old cloth about her
head. Dust rises. The furniture
makes its semi-annual trek
around the living room to the
tune of her husband’s creaking
joints.
Oh, the streetcleaner whistles
behind his broom. The stenogra
pher carries a bouquet to work,
and everyone gets a flower. Ev
ery woman is fair to the eye—
and every bachelor is a possibil
ity. Even the subway sings ad
venture.
By these signs you know it.
Spring is here—the best show in
town.
These College Kids!
ROMESTUDENTS RESUMEtHAZING — Hazing by students of the University
of Rome, interrupted during the Fascist regime, is resumed again as a new class is enrolled. Here
upper classmen as soldiers of old Rome, cavort near the Coliseum during the celebration.