The Handout (Fort Worth, Tex.), Vol. 9, No. 2, Ed. 1 Friday, October 5, 1923 Page: 2 of 4
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Page two
THE
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handout
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THE HANDOUT
Published weekly during the school year.
Subscription, per term $1-25
Single Copy 10
Member of Texas Intercollegiate Press Association. *
THE HANDOUT STAFF
Veazey Editor-in-Chief
McCaslin )
Horger [• ; Associate Editors
Hardin J '
Paddock Society Editor
Parker )
Upson (. \ssistajife< Editors
Manning )
Turner .....'• Exchange Editor
Dean ■* j Assistant Editors
Faulknej T ,
Maddox ........Joke Editor
Mnnrp Assistant Editor
Friend Athletic Editor
Lattimer"
Stegall Staff Cartoonist
Calloway'TriZZZZ!'.'. Business Mgr.
Pugsley Bus. Mgr.
Wynn V
Montague
Puckett
Harrison
Getting Into Things
We'll Vouch For
The Truth of This
Jejune Junior Jollities
We hear so much these days about co-operation, team woi'k, and all
the terms which mean the same thing, that when such a subject is mentioned
we mentally stifle a yawn and prepare to plan a dress during the course
of the speech.
No one ever reads editorials, but if some should read this one he
would find that it is thinking of dealing with a subject along much the
same line. There are so many things in which to enter during one's years
in college, class activities, dormitory activities, athletics, literary clubs and
societies and all the other manifold interests of college life.
And they are college life. With all due respect to our text-books and
class room exercises, it is not the knowledge we have that counts so much
as the use to which this knowledge can be put. When you go home from
college you don't sit around and recite, as your main indoor sport, the fact
that Beowulf is the first epic poem of the English language. Nor do you
remember thcj long hours spent int study and in the class room. You re-
member the feeds, the hikes, the swims, in other words, the good times.
Now, the point to which all this has been leading is this: The times
which influence us most are the times when we were most closely asso-
ciated with our fellow students. In your social life and intercourse with
mankind, in years after college days 'are gone, it is not what you learned
in the clas? room, but what you learned by living together that counts.
Since this is true, it seems most wise and advisable that every girl in
Texas Woman's College should become affiliated with some definite organ-
ization." Get into things and go to work. It makes no difference which
society you join—S. M. K. or Karo—get into one and get busy. If yon can
play tennis, play! You may not win the championship, hut you will have
helped someone else to work harder. Do your best in your line.
And that reminds us—this little homily was not intended to argue you
into joining everything and doing everything in sight. But for goodness
sake, get into some outside activity and get on the job.
ooo
LOYALTY.
Loyalty is on of the cardinal virtues. It is one of the things teachers
and "wise men have endeavored to impress upon us. Loyalty to class, to
society, to dormitory, and to club is a wonderful thing, but above that
looms loyalty t oyour college. It is your college. In your hands lies a large
measure of its success.
That principle has been drummed into us as a more or less abstract
theory to which we pay little attention. However, it is true in a preeminent-
ly practical way. Last week when Jo Maddox was elected pep leader for
the college, a senior, two juniors, and two sophomores popped up to nomi-
nate her for the place. There were girls in each class who could have
filled the place, but she was best fitted. Therefore, three of the nomina-
tors dropped class loyalty for college loyalty.
We are not running an advertising column for Jo. We used that in-
cident as a concrete example of what you can do for T. W. C. Put the ad-
vancement of your college above the advancement of your class, your liter-
ary society, or your dormitory, and you have the real college spirit.
Fish Palaver
she knew a good sport when she seen
one and the Fish had been good ones,
all right. (Spirits rose slightly.) An'
then she said we could take off the
suits. Boy! my spirits were nigh as
high as could be. But the funny part
When I got that suit off I
wise.
I've oftenheard people, what on
some occasion or other had felt quite
out of place and uncomfortable say,
"I felt just like a fish out of water!" |is this:
And I, being of a curious nature, won- decided it had all been great; and, I
dered time and again how a fish out i said I to my roommate, feeling much
of water feels. But b'leve Mutt, I'll I cooler, "Those old fools are pretty
never have to do that again, for last'
Friday morning I was a "fish out of
water."
_ "How come?" 1 hear you ask
eagerly. Well, I'll tell yer how come.
I'm a fish because this is my first
year at college; but I've ben hidin'
my identity by dressin' just like any-
body else. Last Thursday night a
girl put in her appearance and told
me to dress on the morrow like a fish
should, that is, in a bathing suit.
"Who are you?" I asked with dig-
nity. *
"'Who are you?' you should have
said; and I—am a Sopohomore. Wear ' retreat after a dusty journey.
It's funny 'bout us. We of the staff
of this excellent publication often find
ourselves in the most unusual situa-
tions.
F'r instance—we remember one wild
ride over one wonderful night. There
was a moon and a tantalizing south
wind—just the faintest hint of
autumn, although the night was
warm. It was a night of beauty and
of mystery—a night to dream waking
dreams—and we.speri't the evening in
the printer's office, generously sprink
ling the front page material with
honest perspiration. When the front
page material was discouragingly
damp we decided to go back home, and
now we've arrived at the aforemen-
tioned ride, which is what we've been
atempting to do ever since we started.
The printer with all good intentions,
magnanimously offered to convey us
home in his conveyance. Oh—shades
of the past—we were grateful for the
shades of night. The conveyance was
an antiquated, antedated automobile,
missing at irregular intervals on all
four. The said automobile had an
agonizing case of whooping cough,
three tires and a tempermental dis-
position. One of us made the feeling
remark as we cautiously seated our-
selves in the none-to-dependable tou-
neau, "We shall never see our friends
again." Oh, yes, the Handout staff is
composed entirely of optomists. The
thing that worried us most as we by
turns lunged and crept through the
night was the missing sixty pounds of
atmosphere in the right back. May-
be you have experienced that. The
terrors and risks of that night would
fill an extra edition of the New York
Globe, but we finally realized that tSfe
tall building looming up in front of
us was the main building. Thegyra-
tions and vibrations of the mechanical
marvel in which we were riding
ceased, and we breathed, a sigh of re-
lief to feel solid earth beneath our
pedal extremeties once again. Maybe
'we're eccentric, but preposterous as
the whole thing was, we had a good
time out of it.
But that wasn't all—a few days
later we took our front page material
to another printer, and not being en-
tirely certain about the business ad-
dress of that individual, we were
thereby precipitated into another em-
barrassing situation. We wandered
by chance into the exchange depart-
ment of the post office, and the gov-
ernment employees of that establish-
ment must have thought themselves
confronted by a pair of hold-up ladies.
We judged by their attitude, and be-
ing perfectly harmless, our feelings
were hurt. But when we inquired In
a wee small voice as we craned our
necks over a mountainous stock df
blue and white mail pouches, "please
sir—where is the so and so office?"
their courteous manner disappeared,
and they grinned broadly as they di-
rected us "one block west and four
blocks north." The memory of that
grin rankles. We, being dignified
staff members have an aversion to be-
ing laughed at, or even grinned at.'
If anything, that's worse.
But ruffled feelings and physical
hazards make not a great deal of dif-
ference, to us when we're persuing the
interests of our favorite child—The
Handout. And incidentally, that's
what we're doing most of the time.
To The Freshmen
The Day of Rest
Six days we study, recite, and rush
breathlessly about, performing the
duties assigned to us. What would
we do if there were not a seventh day
wherein we may permit ourselves to
pause and do nothing except just be?
What a contrast to the six busy days
of ceaselessly spending our energies,
is the quiet and peace of the Sabbath!
And what a relief! It is like a cool Vent to feeble cry.
eyes took a solemn survey of the roo,m.
She entered, locked the door, walk-
ed to the table and started dispairing-
ly at the clock. She leaned closer. It
could not be! She glared, threw the
clock violently at a gruesome picture
that hung on the opposite wall, and
stalked across the long, dimly lighted
room. O
She wilted on a pile of vari-colored
pillows. Her eyes grew glassy as she
stared into limitless space. Her
mouth sagged open, and she gave
I've been sitting here racking my
brains for thirty minutes wondering
what I was going to write about. I
guess you'll think when you read it
that I never did decide. To be per-
fectly frank, I didn't. Now what are
you going to do about it?
I'm keeping company today with a
dark blue feeling. A dark blue feel-
ing with pale green fringes and trim-
mings;- If it were Monday there
might be some foundation for such a
feeling, but it's Tuesday. Therefore,
I am at -a l'oss to understand the situ-
ation. I think it must be because
Fort Worth lost a game yesterday
Y'know, that's one thing I like
about our school. Eh? What? Oh,
you don't follow my reasoning. Few
people do. Mainly because I don't
have any. But, as I was saying
like our school because it develops in
us a sense of personal loyalty to Fort
Worth. When I went home last June,
everybody in my home town was
rootin' for Wichita Falls. Me always
popping off, (Yes, I know that isn t
good English. What difference does
it make?) it took them all about two
minutes to find out that I was all
broke out with Fort Worth pep. For
the few days that our ball club tantal-
ized the league and played along way
day the line, I was afraid to go to
town. But when we strutted back up
to our old stamping grounds at the
head of the bunch I poured it on them
Wichita fans. Boy, howdy! but I en
joyed the rest of the summer.
Nope, the Fort Worth club didn'
pay me anything for the ad. The Cats
don't need advertising.
I don't know whether it's according
to Hoyle to discuss league baseball in
the columns of a colege paper, but
after all, we're a part of Fort Worth
and Prexy is as enthusiastic a booster
for the Cats as anybody, so I'm not
worrying much. My roommate says
she's tired of base'jjwll, though, so I'll
Change the subject.
Yes, my roommate still warts me
about the subjects I choose for my
learned discourses. You remember,
she doesn't approve of pills. Now
comes base ball. And she doesn't like
peanuts or popcorn or circuses. Just
what is the plural of circus?
While everybody is being kind
enough to tell me what not to write
about, I'd like to make two sugges-
tions. The first one is that those
persons suggest some subjects on
which Joyous Junior Jollities and
Some Sweet Sophomore Sophistries
may be written. (Do I hear the editor
of the Sophomore Sophistries breath-
ing a fervent "Amen" to that propo-
sition? Thank you. I thought so.)
The second one —second suggestion
of course; what do you suppose
meant? The second suggestion is to
the previous students—I don't like to
say old students—and to the faculty.
Here it is: Let's all gang up some
dark night and go push that string of
empty oil cars off the edge of the
campus. They've been obscuring the
northern view ever since I came here,
As a freshman, what's on the other
side of them, anyhow?
On second thought, let's find an oil
well in our back yard so we can use
them tanks. I think an oil well back
of a college would be a wonderful
thing if it wasn't too far back.
And when we find this oil well, let's
endow The Handout with about nine-
teen million dollars £ year so Hie
staff can have all the cartoons the
paper needs and can pay people to
write huge quantities of material.
I needs must retire to the privacy
of me own boudoir and meditate. The
contemplation of such a roseate vision
blinds me.
(I think that last sentence sounds
dignified enough for even me.)
Don't you?
—Junior.
What is college? Do we have a
full conception of what college really
means? Is our vision broad? Is it
dimmed or undimmed?
To me college means where I may
fulfill my ambitions, hopes and as-
pirations; it is a place to test my
mettle, and to . develop the best there
is in me.'; it is a place which simply
challenges my ambitions, and just
dares me to go ahead.
Yes, it means lots of hard work,
too; but as a result of this hard work
it means a zest and glow of happiness
and development of character, that
can come only from difficult tasks
well and faithfully performed.
College is a place where ennobling
aspirations live and wtoere desires
are born that lift us above the soTdid
things of life; it is a place where we
receive wise and skillful direction un-
der educators who are activated by
high motives, by lofty ideals, and by
a great desire to be of service to
humanity.
College is a great big treasure
house of ideals and noble purposes; it
stimulates wholesome social ideals
and develops the capacity and the
ability for worth-while service in the
h»me and in the community.
College means greater responsibil-
ities and greater opportunities; it pro-
duces a citizenship of initiative and
resourcefulness; in fact ,it is a place
where one may Teceive broad and
sound training in the heart and in the
hand as well as in the intellect; and
thus produces a womanhood or man-
hood of social culture and refinement
of capacity to understand and solve
the problems of home life as well as
the social and civic problems; and of
great spiritual insight and power.
Now that we are in college, if we
wish to fulfill our ambitions, our
Co-operation
We hear someone saying with a
tired sigh, "Oh, I knew it; I knew
no editor could bear to see an issue
come out without at least one word
about co-operation. But-we just had
to tell the world that we have the
best staff in all newspaperdom. Gee
how these sub-fish and fish responded
with reams of good stuff to our re-
quest for secretaries! What have yov
to say about that?. Gee, how these
class reporters, dormitory reporters
and these editors hand in dope right
off the bat?
All this sounds very dignified and
real thrilled over something we for.
get the king's English and talk natur-
al. Anyhow, we wish to publicly thank
our staff for the wonderful eo-opera-
tion and team work we are develop,
ing. We're proud of the staff col-
lectively and individually.
."That beats me," said the fresh-
man, as the upper-classman plied the
strap.
"Life is a joke and all things shov it'
Look at this column and then you'll
know it."
care for
t/our jflocoer
' xoeints-^ >
JL-Soj/ it ivilh 'Mm.
SoldoIL T3oowM
n ijmjt
702 Ma/a Street.
"P/ione Xjjm<ir~77S
your bathing suit or you'll regret it."
Bang! and she was gone. But not for-
gotten. I was puzzled. Turning to
N. Webster for aid I found that Soph-
OTfiore means "wise fool"—Wise fool!
The mystery grew more complex. But
after consulting with several sister
fish—er—I wore the bathing suit. So
did all the rest. In fact, those "wise
fools" were determined that the fish
should dress appropriately.
But, as I started out to say, the en-
vironment was by no means appropri-
ate. In Education class I was terribly
conscious of the heat and of a dread-
ful scratchy feeling. I had a thought
Crisis right there, too,—an inward de-
bate whether to leave class or stand
it out. I decided on the latter and was
more than thankful when, on enter-
ing chapel a little later, I underwent
a physical examination. Yep, there
at the chapel door was a whole line of
those "wise fools" still insistin' on ap-
propriate dress, as they had done at
breakfast. I smack forgot the scratch-
in' when Miss Smith began her story,
but next period it was worse than
ever. I went to lunch with a set jaw,
but would have welcomed death. My
spirits were sinking lower and lower
when Mrs. Berry tapped the bell.
Then the Soph president up and said
she knew a good sport when she epen
"
Sunday is the time we have in which
we may stop and become acquainted
with ourselves and our Creator. Every
individual needs some period alone
for thinking, and reflecting and most
of all, of discovering oneself. We
cannot study the nature of our soul
in the busy whirl of the week day.
And a kind and thoughtful Being un-
derstood this and set aside very sev-
enth day so that we might find soli-
tude and silence.
Of course, to some Sunday is re-
garded as the particular time for a
late nap in the morning, an excellent
but generally too heavy dinner, and
long rides in a luxurious car in the
afternoon and evening. To them, un-
less the day is spent in this way, it is
considered an entire loss. But I can-
not help but believe that this is not
the genuine way of enjoying the "day
of rest." It seems to me that we
should get much more pleasure out
of Sunday if we spend it as it was
meant to be spent, to dedicate the day
as atime of quiet worship, and of the
adjustment of our relationship with
ourselves, with others, and with God.
THE MYSTERY
The door swung silently open, a
'brown head was thrust in, in the man-
stared into limitless space. Her
Presently she began to revice, she
tore her hair, threshed her arms mad-
ly, and uttered dismal moans that
grew into wild and blood-curdling
wails.
She became rigid. In her eyes
dawned the light of great joy. She
muttered incoherent phrases as she
sprang to her fet. Rushing to the ta-
ble she drew toward her a dull book,
filled with ragged papers. With a
batered pencil she made a note on
one of the sheets.
Flinging the pencil to the floor,
she clasped the book to her bosom
and began a weird and terrible dance;
She murmured vaguely, "It cannot be
—it is finished— at last, at last!—
I shall again sleep—oh, joy, joy!—It
is finished."
She fell exhausted to the floor, the
light faded, in the distance wTis hejird.
the shrill commanding voice of a bell.
No, girls, this is not a foul witch
plotting dire punishments for those
who displease her, nor is it a maniac
in her cell. It is merely a poor, har-
rassed, unappreciated human who
must write articles for "The Hand-
out."
Uncle John took little Florrie to
the doll department in one of the big
shops and said, "Now, Florrie, whhh
shall it be—a boy or a girl?"
"Twins," promptly replied Florrie.
hopes and our aspirations, we mvist
stand together and work together
editorial, of course, fyut when we get
with in God and one another.
"Lead us not into temptation and
deliver us from the Dean's office."
• 11 >■
VISIT OUR
New Enlarged
Store
Apparel
of Quality
Moderatly
Priced.
THE VOGUE
509-11 Houston St.
DUMBELL STILL MISSING
MISTRESS REFUSES TO DISPAIR |
Dumbell, the famous snuggle pup, belonging to Miss Pauline 1
Veazey, is still missing. Wildest conjectures and rumors fill the |
air around the college campus. Anxious friends and sympathizers §
crowd to the stricken room. Miss Veazey has barred herself to all |
except the student body. She continues inconsolable, but declares |
that somewhere, somehow, her dog will be found.
Expresses Confidence.
(?j "I have the utmost faith and confidence in Detective Hawkshaw," | |
she told our reporter early this morning. "He is a gentleman and an | 1
officer of the law. I believe that'if my dog is still alive, Mr. Hawk- | j
shaw will recover him for me. And I believe that he is yet alive. | j
If he were dead I would feel it. I hope to have him safe home again f j
in a few days. I dori't see how I could go on if I did not have this [ 1
hope'{(T sustain' me. Dumbell means so much to me.
Hawkshaw Talks.
Of course there has been foul play," Detective Hawkshaw said I j
a few moments later. "Dogs don't just wander away from a home 11
like this. They know a good thing when they see it. Somebody was | j
interested in having him out of the way, and it won't be long till | j
we know the person."
Reward Increased.
Miss Veazey today notified The Handout to increase the amount j j
offered as a reward for any news of the dog.
"Make it two bits," she said, with the light of desperation in \ I
her eyes. "I'll even give up seeing The French Doll if I can only j
have my dog again." f
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VVe are proud of the T. W. C. Girl and are backing the insti-
tution which she attends.
W. B. FISHBURN, Inc.
501 Commerce
L 1777
y
True To Our Name
Master Dyers and Cleaners
RIALTO
SUNDAY—ALL WEEK
Richard Barthelmess
IN
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The Handout (Fort Worth, Tex.), Vol. 9, No. 2, Ed. 1 Friday, October 5, 1923, newspaper, October 5, 1923; Fort Worth, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth771329/m1/2/: accessed July 16, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Texas Wesleyan University.