1931 January - To Dragma

48
streets that lose themselves in half a dozen names and as many direr tions before they merge in the crowds of the Grand Boulevards. Thos~ are the ones that call me back to spend forgetful hours poking in a n j out of musty shops where grizzled old women part with a bit of deer> blue Sevres as though they were making the# hardest sacrifice of their lives. There is the dirty, evil-smelling stretch of the Seine along the quai by Notre Dame that managed to spoil all the legendary effect built up by idealized pictures of the great cathedral. I can't see ever again those Gothic towers rising into the clouds without remembering the filth at their foundation.
For every illusion destroyed an unexpected delight was found, and so it was all through the seven weeks of our journey. After it is over the precious memories remain, and the disappointments are forgotten Perhaps it is best that human nature is so, for thus we keep romance in our hearts and give it all the reality it ever has. I learned to love the Parisian's sense of the importance of leisure, the studied art that goes into the preparation of a good meal, and the high walls and im- penetrable doors that shut the world and all the noise of the streets away from his secluded gardens.
Switzerland amused us, annoyed us with its horde of tourists, and gave us the most perfect three days of our trip—in Montreux. There we found all of the charm and beauty of Italy, the cleanliness of Ger- many, the majesty of Swiss scenery made to order, and the food and emotion of France. Balconied rooms overlooked the Lake of Geneva, proudly the Castle of Chillon on one side of the story-book panorama; hotels, villas and chalets scattered themselves picturesquely over the mountainsides, with brick-red roofs topping • walls of smoothest buff, pink or white; swans floated close to the promenade that follows the shore for miles, fully aware of the effect their smooth whiteness produced on the surface of a clear-blue lake; iron fences covered themselves with pink roses, gardens were bright with flowers, and willows bent to trail their feathery leaves in the winter. Nights were filled with the heavy scent of magnolia trees and basswood in full bloom, music of the Sylvia ballet from the orchestra in the Kursaal, and an occasional deep tenor voice somewhere out in the darkness.
Europe gave us nothing to displace the memory of Montreux. All of the rest of Switzerland looked as though it had been built for the amusement of tourists. Swiss hotel proprietors are too fatherly and proud of their scenery, though they did present us with boxes of chocolate and roses whenever we left. Their cute little chalets look as though they had been carved out of wood and set up for our diversion, and I am sure that as soon as summer is over they must all be taken down and put away carefully to keep them clean for next season.
Germany proved to be dull and uninteresting, but generalizations are out of place, inasmuch as we didn't go near Berlin. With a great deal of imagination and some eye-strain we found a few trees in the Black Forest. Heidelberg I was particularly fond of because it lived up to all the stories built around it. Even the students' wore gaily*


JANOA*Y , 1931 «
i rod uniforms emblematic of their fraternities, and their carefree •es sounded better than any chorus from "The Student Prince." Soever my enthusiasms weren't shared by the other three-fourths, nerha'ps I projected into Heidelberg what I most wanted to find, r me the old, ivy-covered fraternity houses were beautiful. The Town includes little more than the large, ugly university buildings, rrow streets of rooming houses and shops, a mellow-brown old church, the staadgarten, with its open-air restaurant and symphony orchestra,
and many leafy beer-gardens and shady walks under wise-looking old
t F e C AH of the Rhineland was decorated in honor of the French evacuation and Hindenburg's triumphal tour. WTe spent a day on the Rhine from Mayence to Cologne, and were happy to be on our way to Brussels, vye felt more at home where our high-school French was miraculously understood. The Mouse Tower at Bingen, the ruins of Ehrenbreitstein and the Moselle river at Coblenz, and even the Lorelei failed to meet our expectations. Why, I wonder? Perhaps Montreux was to blame.
Brussels, Bruges and Ostende have their own individual charm, and we loved each one, as we hurried on with a promise to find our way back again some day. All of Belgium was colored for us by a day we spent in the battlefield area around Ypres, and I find, even now, that it is a memory too poignant to bring back for description. I can see yet, whenever I close my eyes, those evidences of four years of German occupancy, cemeteries filled with black German crosses, and then the acres of white crosses where an inconceivable number of English and Canadians rest. They are so lovingly cared for, those white cemeteries, where the wind blows pink roses and blue lupin gently over each grave.
:
1
r-
Interlachen, Switzerland, where we were annoyed and amused.
•
!


50 To DR A G M A
Cabbages are growing now where trenches and shell-holes were not so many years ago, but no one forgets it. How can they, when the fields are red with poppies, and there isn't the vestige of a tree in the whole
countryside?
Late one rainy afternoon we found ourselves banking into the wind
in a tri-motored Fokker plane of the Imperial Airways. We waved good- bye to the Continent from high over Brussels, and within two hours we had crossed the Channel and saw the white chalk cliffs of Dover for the first time far below us through the clouds. How I loved the sight of those rolling English downs after the sacred and pathetic fields of Flanders. Croydon Airdrome gave us a mannerly welcome to the British Isles, with its low gray buildings, courteous customs officers and memories of its many famous take-offs and landings. England is the only country that seemed exactly as I thought it would. It was familiar and dear, and all of my beloved books, their creators, and the countless friends in them, from David Copperfield to Tess, greeted me
and whispered their stories over again. It is a queer sensation to go everywhere about London and feel as though you had seen it all many times before. British authors who love their England have shared it with the rest of the world in a remarkable way. I fully expected to meet Soames Forsyte everytime I went down St. James Street, or old Sir John from Wintersmoon near the Green Park or on Duke Street. I'd find myself thinking, "Why, yes, there's Half moon Street, right off Curzon Street, and just over here must be Picadilly."
London meant theaters and delightful restaurants in Soho, Dennis King in The Three Musketeers, Peggy Wood in that lovely thing called Bitter-Sweet; the Savoy for tea, dinner out in Richmond on the Thames, dancing to American jazz; the fun of listening to English accents, and being laughed at for what we always considered our good table manners; making friends and then leaving them much too soon. But I remember,
too, the London of Charing Cross Road, where I spent a morning alone, thumbing old volumes and making my own discoveries in book stores and antique shops; the Covent Garden markets that we wandered into by mistake one night returning from the Drury Lane; and quiet, tree- shadowed Manchester Square, where the enchanting bits of loveliness that make up the Wallace Collection are preserved in Hereford House. I couldn't resist the smile of a lame ex-soldier in Leicester Square from whom I bought violets and lilies-of-the-valley, and the center of London, to me, is the beloved, never-failing landmark that I must always find when I so persistently managed to get lost—St. Martin's-in-the-Field, on the
Strand side of Trafalgar Square.
Tilbury Docks, with a smoky-red sunset throwing the confusion of tall masts and factory chimneys into sharp relief over the Thames, was the last we saw of London. Eleven days on the ocean won't con- nect themselves in any way with the rest of our journeyings. Some day, perhaps, I shall be able to figure out why boats have their own peculiar effect on sea-going travelers. After the second or third day out there is nothing in the world but water. England never was and


|c a never will be. and the beginning and the end of existence are the prow and stern of a very small ship, carrying no more than eighty rLsengers. Uncounted hours pass while I lean over the rail and watch the'foam and spray, meditating on the courage it took to start out alone . a t jn y speck of an airplane to cross an endless body of restless water. Thoughts and questions newly come into being are tossed out into space for an answer, and the winds bring them back to their origin, with the nromise of wider vision and deeper understanding. Days are made of intervals between breakfast, morning bouillon, lunch, tea, dinner and ten o'clock sandwiches. Nights are spent on deck watching the stars move slowly up and clown. There is nothing to look at but the moods 0 f the sea, and the same faces going nowhere at all. At least I know n o w why everyone's trip to Europe is mostly a tale of acquaintances
made on board ship, and why moonlight on the water is better than any moonlight on land.
' Once again this winter we are sitting before the fire in Wood C o u r t - Sally and Anne and I while the snow piles up against the panes, and out of an unexacting silence one of us will say, "Do you remember?" . . . . Another happy parade of memories will come forth to live and glow, brought from the safe place in our hearts where they are kept for dull gray clays, and the occasional hours when we can share them with those others who understand, too. that the magic name of "Europe" is still a spot in our hearts and not altogether a place across the sea.
Do 'i/ou Know That—
For the year 1929-30, Nu Omicron had three members out of five on the Honor Committee, and the ex-officio member who is the president of Student Council, was an Alpha O, too.
Janie Price (Pi '31), was elected president of the dormitories at So- phie Newcomb College.
Ada Mott (Pi '32), is the first "co-ed" to hold a major office in the College of Law at Sophie Newcomb. She is vice president of the College of Law.
Elizabeth Jones (Pi '32), and Janie Price (Pi '31), are to be maids in the newcomers Ball at Sophie Newcomb.
Marcille Leverich (Pi '31) and Marietta Griffin (Pi '33), are captains of the Junior and Freshman baseball teams respectively.
Louise Dickerson has been honored by Phi Beta Kappa at Syracuse University. She has received a scholarship and will continue her work
in Latin at Syracuse next year.
Epsilon Alpha won the health song contest given at Pennsylvania
State College during Health Week.
Ada Monroe (Nu '31), was elected to Eclectic, Washington Square
College honorary society for junior girls.
Anne Morrison (Theta), is vice presdent of A.WS. at DePauw.
Peg Martin (Theta), is vice president of De Pauw's sophomore class. Doris Finger and Harriet Ballard (Sigma '31), are now members of
Prytancan, women's activity honor society at the University of California.


u
+OLLOWjtte on JHy
T AST SUMMER my husband was called to Dublin and II ^ Belfast on business, so the family decided to go along for a holiday in the south of Ireland. We traveled
on the "Irish Mail" from London via the north coast of Wales, and after a very bad crossing from Holyhead arrived at the Shelbourne Hotel in Dublin without anything eventful happening other than a slight argument between my husband and the customs officer, who for some reason took offence at the former's good-natured American query on handing over his luggage, "Well, What's the story?"
"What's the story, is i t ! " the officer rejoined angrily. " 'Tis th same story as it is in New York or any other city," et cetera. In meantime I had sidled over and attempted my most ingratiating smile. He finally quieted down, and even followed us with a bit of blarney.
The next morning my husband proceeded to Belfast, while I with my two little boys took the train for Mallow in County Cork, where Daddy was to join us in a short time for some trout fishing in the Black- water, "Ireland's Rhine." I felt rather strange but thrilled, as we were on our way to visit relatives of my grandfather, whom we had never seen or even corresponded with, until in a romantic moment in 1921, I had written to the "Postmaster General, Ireland" asking if he could put me in touch with the descendants of my grandfather, an Englishman from Hampshire, who, following his participation at Waterloo, had been
stationed in Ireland, and marrying an Irish girl, had settled there. His reward for loyalty to the crown was a rural post-office appointment, and I knew that his descendants had also held post-office jobs.
In a surprisingly short time I received the desired information, and also letters from my distant cousins, two sisters who lived together with a brother who had been invalided out of the British Navy, following the fighting with the Turks at Gallipoli—the lone survivor of his ship; and from the elder brother, just out of the Army, who had served in both the Boer and the World wars, and was now in a post-office in England.
By MARY GRANT CHARLES, Delta


pilgrimage to
•
Thrilling was
the Summer of 1930 for this Alpha O, who back- trailed on Irish
history in a quaint Irish village.
•
The latter was to meet us in Mallow on his holidays. None of this family had married, and they were apparently eager to see some little children of their own blood. At the risk of be- ing too personal, I shall tell you of what seemed to me my "story-book" visit in a real Irish household.
As we drew into Mallow Station, Ralph and Grant peered through the train corridor window. I could not see anyone who might be awaiting us except possibly a very thin,, aris- tocratic-appearing lady who looked like an Englishwoman. When we alighted, she proved to be Cousin Ellen and she, in her turn, could not believe that my boys were the ex- pected children. She had seen their extremely rosy cheeks in the window, and thought to herself, "These can- not be American children and par- ticularly American children who have been living in London for a year."
S^LAND
My two sons venture forth with me in
the pony
trap.
'J*.
Ballinantona Post Office where my grandfather was postmaster.


54
There is a strong belief over here that all American children are pale and delicate, not to mention many other things!
After her first surprise, Ellen led us rather nervously around to th road on the other side of the station where Cousin Jennifer was holdup the pony's bridle. There was the picture of my imagination! \ ;0]j tweed-clothed young person, with apple cheeks and crispy-curly chestnut hair which was always on the verge of tumbling down but never quit- doing it. And such a delightfully rollicking laugh and soft Cork brogue!
We all piled into the pony trap except Jennifer, who led "Nelly* slowly out to and up the main street of the town, which was strangely reminiscent of certain old streets running up Beacon Hill from Charles Street in Boston, except that the stately Georgian houses were of whitish stucco instead of red brick. Yet again it was like nothing I had ever seen before. There was something decadent about it. Above all there was a disagreeable, musty, moldy odor, which I later associated with the many animals which pass through it—Mallow being a market town of some importance.
On the way the cousins explained that since "The Troubles," town government, although improving a bit now, had been unsatisfactory, and the streets were not cleaned and repaired as they should be. One end of the main street was formerly lined with the homes of prosperous citizens, many with English affiliations, who had fled during the ''Had Times" never to return. The cousins were now almost isolated so far as their real friends were concerned, although because of their late father's great personal popularity and because of their own sincere efforts at "good-will toward all" they had remained on good terms with the townspeople.
The town of Mallow, with its castles and ruins, has a long and fas- cinating history, but I was most interested in one episode in it. Toward the end of the seventeenth century a valuable medicinal spring was discovered here which for a time attracted wealthy sufferers and their retinues. A spa house was built later, and the spacious still existing "Long Room" adjoining the present quaint and beautiful "Clock House" was provided for assemblies and balls. "The young bloods of those days drank deeply not only of the 'waters' of the springs but also other, more heady draughts. They maintained that the finest drink they had ever tasted was 'whiskey mixed with Mallow Spa'." These gallants
became known as the "Rakes of Mallow" because of their "beauing, belleing, dancing, drinking, and breaking windows," as the well-known song relates.
We entered the huge front door of one of the Georgian houses, and at once had a feeling that we were miles away from the town just outside. The spacious rooms were filled with beautiful Georgian pieces arranged in a rather Victorian order or, rather, disorder. This taste I later laid at Jennifer's door as I could see that her elder sister's simple and aesthetic taste did not appeal to the colorful "Jen" who would in- sist on spoiling the line of a stately Grandfather clock by perching some


ARY, 1931
55
Temple
Michael
where
my ancestor
was clerk.
ornate statuary upon it, and on making other "improvements" of a like nature.
Both girls were intensely religious and settled all matters by verbatim quotations from the Scriptures, so for once I was quite at a loss in rebuttal. Occasionally even my. more worldly Army cousin came to my rescue with a necessary quotation.
Our bedroom was on the second floor overlooking the street. We were very tired and soon fell asleep in spite of the steady thump-thump of heavy shoes going up and down, up and down, the street. I t seemed as though the whole town walked out every night while we were there, but where they went or what they found to do I never discovered.
Early that first morning, it must have been before four o'clock, I was awakened by other—and to me stranger sounds—to find the boys already hanging excitedly out of the windows. I had never before heard such a thud-thudding, interspersed with occasional human cries and animal sounds. With great interest we watched herds of cattle and flocks of sheep being driven up the main street. There were numerous donkey carts, too, usually burdened with a lone sheep or goat in a "crib" on behind. Market Day in Mallow! Coming from New England, I had imagined I knew something of farm life, but now I began to sense for the first time what an almost wholly agricultural country can be like.
Our house was built up from a basement floor so that the large walled garden in the back was much below the street level. It was so peaceful and beautiful with its small orchard and flower beds. At one side was a stable and near the house was an artificial trout pond. Be-


56
To DRAGMA
fore breakfast Ralphy rushed out to the stable to see Nelly. He re- turned looking rather surprised and crestfallen. Nelly was already n"
he said, and so were the fishes!
That morning we went for a ride in the pony trap up a nearbv
"mountain." We had some difficulty getting started as the roads were so full of animals going to and from the market. I was particularly terrified by some bulls which we dodged for about a mile, until we came to a crossroads, where their keepers suddenly appeared from nowhere and drove them off onto another road. The morning air was wonderful We stopped on the way to give Nelly a rest and to enjoy a delicious drink of water from a mountain spring.
Far out on the mountain we came to the tiny village of Ballinamona and saw the cottage where my great-grandfather had lived (here the villagers boast, the Duke of Connaught once called on the old veteran) and his post-office, the present post-mistress of which urged us to have a cup of tea "strong enough for a mouse to walk on," as Donn Byrne
would say, and who, upon being introduced, asked me "how long I was home for." Under the circumstances who could feel himself a stranger? As a matter of fact, Cousin Joe had already said I was more Irish than themselves; that he was disappointed in me, as he had always wanted to know a real American!
Close by was the country church, Temple Michael, where my an- cestor was clerk for many years. I entered it through the church-yard, where even today both Catholics and Protestants are buried, although in some cases of mixed marriages, husbands and wives sleep in different sections. I was deeply impressed by the simplicity of the interior of the peaceful little church, with the plain marble font where my grand- father was christened, and the walls decorated only with memorial tablets and Scriptural texts beautifully carved by native artisans. Was it Dean Inge or some other eminent Divine who recently said that he could not help feeling that God was somehow nearer in a country church than in a great cathedral. Temple Michael is now under the Church of Ireland (corresponding to the Church of England, or, in the United States, the Protestant Episcopal Church), but in the ancient days it must have belonged to the monastery at Mourne Abbey which lies not far away in the most eerie ruins I have ever seen. It is connected by underground passage with the ruins of Castle Barrett which may be seen in the distance, standing stark upon what appears to be an in- accessible hill. They say that even the ivy will not cling to it, and many are the evil stories told about the powerful old Kings Barrett.
I went within the Abbey ruins to see the graveyard, but "turned around and came right out again" as I was so horrified to see white bones and parts of skeletons lying about uncovered.
"Oh, we're accustomed to that sort of thing in Ireland," they as- sured me. During the Famine, years ago, they merely piled up the bodies here. What astonished me most was that they still bury their dead in this awful place. I noticed one gravestone as recent as 1910, and ironically enough it was marked with the name of "Barrett." But
U

J^ABV, 1931 "
rterior of the Abbey is very beautiful indeed, consisting of strange the h pes, nothing of the actual material showing through the ivy.
nost-office, near which on the cross-roads clustered a few cottages "I^wUh children, goats, pigs and hens. I took a picture of the post- ffi e which shows a hen in the window. The sign is in Gaelic without h additional English translation which I had noticed on other post- al es in the Irish Free State, but I was told that this section was a v natriotic one and because of its Sinn Fein activities had been a
S e r o u s locality during "The Troubles."
A Ballinamona girl, who had been a maid for the cousins while British officers were billeted with them, had given out information which I d to an attack on the garrison. This attack was followed by Govern- ment reprisals and when the dead bodies were laid out in the barracks for identification, none would claim them at first for fear of being im- olicated. Finally this same country girl came dramatically into town driving a big cart, and going boldly into the barracks, without mention- ing any names, pointed first to one corpse and then to another saying, "Til take this one—and this one—and that one." They were very secretive about everything, and the cousins had several narrow escapes. One night Jennifer got up in her white night robe to attend to her old
mother'who was very ill, and discovered a mob under the window on the street below, assisting one man up a ladder. She stood stiff and straight, so that when the man reached the window and saw her, he thought she was a ghost. He let out one shriek and almost fell off the ladder. He was away as fast as he could go, the mob at his heels.
Another night, while the officerswere fast asleep on the top floor, the sisters looked out the back windows and saw an armed mob creeping slowly and quietly'upon the house through the fields from the banks of the Blackwater. Some were already scaling the garden wall, when the girls, without arousing the officers, bravely put on the lights, and made enough noise to make the mob think that the whole household was astir and prepared for them. Again they were left in peace. But it was on this same night that the garrison was blown up. To the Irish a bridge is sacred, so even many Sinn Feiners were shocked when the really irreplaceable old Mallow Bridge was destroyed. There is a mod- ern bridge now, but the great stone blocks of the old one still lie about it in reproachful heaps. The house directly opposite the cousins' was also blown up, but has since been rebuilt.
In many cases owners were given twenty-four hours in which to leave town, and most of them never returned. It was astonishing how a snobbish silence would madden these desperate attackers, I was told, and how, on the other hand, they would respond to a kindly word. On one occasion an elderly lady living on the outskirts was aroused late at night. She opened the door fearlessly, and reproved them quietly for disturbing her at such an hour. "Come back in the morning," she said, "and take anything you like." They left and never annoyed her again.
(Continued on page 119)
5a
^ ^ W e had our picnic lunch in an open field overlooking the Ballina-


Directory!
The
Alpha
Omicron
Pi DIRECTORY
0«f<W hj ALICE CULLNANE
Directory
ALPHABETICAL DIRECTORY OF ALPHA OMICRON P I
Mambcrahlp o( June, 1930
Il.tfnl,,.,Kir,^.1,.,)
DIRECTORY! D i - rectory! Who has seen our directory? WVll wager we were th e first to see itbecause ours
was one of the first out of Banta's bindery, garnered by a husband who had watched u s page through dozens o f sheets o f tissue
paper filled with mimeo- graphed names each time we wanted an address.
Even smelling of glue asitdid,welovedit. And who wouldn't? F6r with its red binding and finely stamped gold back itis as attractiveasitis useful. Its contents would suit the most critical. Here, in one
small, pocket-size volume, we find the names of the Founders and the 1929-'31
Executive Committee,the active and alumna; chap- ter rolls, the alphabetical directory, an "In Memor- iam," the 1929-'30 ini- tiates, and a geographical
and chapter directory.
We'rejustalittlemore than proud o f this book because o u r husband con-
nived with Alice Cullnane, the compiler, to make i t especially good looking.
The title page has the same decorations as th e back, being done i n black and white. The cover is plain with the name given onlyontheback. Itlooks
well placed beside th e Modern Library series, re- cent novels or very old and rare editions of the class- ics; in fact it resembles an
We Jfave a Directory
! •I"••"<<<
>BSi25nj{v"d"«57il!CSS,-
MHkPSiM. INi. ***** U Wa. P. H
TM~-. (w# I.*r,<l,«. M„ H..,., II.,,.,
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"\.!S"li""
111""B^Jltt*KtHSl>}MW M«TM<i *t-E85 let*j«S5uiTnTV
.
58


J,M-.«V , " ive gift edition book bound in levant leather, finely tooled in gold.
u " n . „ marrying and scurrying group as college women is very hard to ^t into a practical directory, and the process requires patience and hard
rk
T h e book will be of use to almost every member.
ceanc
] her assistants have done a fine piece of work in the compila-
e N ') e ^jj
of the book. The fraternity owes them great gratitude! Such a
of ivory reed with bright red leather upholstering, and other furnishings are in harmony. The sun room also connects the north and south wings of the main building.
The main dining room is large and furnished in rose and driftwood. Like the lounge, it has three fireplaces and unique lighting fixtures. T h e dining porch adjoining overlooks the trout lake and swimming pool.
All of the guest rooms are light and airy and have outside exposure. Some have private bath and some have connecting bath and there are a few with water in the room, but they are all tastefully furnished.
Doesn't all this make you want to be among those who wind their happy way up the mountain road to Alpha O Convention on June 19? In the next issue we will tell you more about the recreational fa-
cilities, the famous spots nearby, and the personalities who will do so much to make this our best convention.
J^ord Balfour ^cholar an zAlpha 0 (Continued from page 5 )
a man who knows and loves every stone in it; I raced with a hostess' Cairn terriers; I visited a Cambridge don who lives in a modern (and modernistic) house of glass, and believes thoroughly in teaching people to seek for the meaning of literature; I attended a Toe H birthday anni- versary service in Canterbury Cathedral when the great choir was full of men; I tramped through lovely English lanes to tiny little villages. Butwhygoon? Ihadathousandthingscometome—thingsgay, tender, exciting, soothing, beautiful, homely, impressive—that could not possibly come to the person who has to "do"England in one week,or two days! And, above all, I am coming home with very heart-warming
memories not only of England herself, but best of all, of English people, I think I dare say, of English friends.
sl „nexttimeymigoa-travelingandseewhatnewfriendsyoucan make in distant cities and what old friends you can find. T o any pmber doing Alpha O work this new directory is of inestimable value. Order your copy from the Central Office, Masonic Building, State Collegej Pennsylvania. Enclose $1.50 with th e order.
To Troutdale in June
V
I t is compact in • e and will fit into a traveling bag o r large pocketbook. Take one
(Continued
from page 4 4 )


ouse Jit oraries
Sncourage Qultural J^ife By MARION HUMBLE, AAA
IN H I S recent book, Books—Their Place in a Democracy, M r . Rob- ert L . Duffus, graduate of Leland Stanford University, states that "the voluntary book-reading of the American public cannot possibly amount to more than one volume per capita every two months." His deduction is made from figures of bookstore sales, rental library loans and public library reports. He asks why so few books are bought by the American people, believing that we can afford books, but that we do not afford them.
In any discussion of reading and book-buying habits, it would seem as if we might say first of all, "Of course college students read good books; college graduates, wherever they are, buy good books. They are not the average American." But here is a review of Mr. Duffus' book by Mr. W . T . Couch, of the University of North Carolina Press, stating that "the evidence is overwhelming that our graduates have never started— much less continued—the cultivation of intellectual interests after col-
lege."
Certainly the colleges should take the lead in stimulating a desire
to read, to buy books, to build personal libraries to which one may al- ways turn for the companionship, refreshment, information, solace, es- cape, to be found in books. Members of the college faculty and trus- tees should see that the college bookstore is not only a dispenser of necessary textbooks, but a source of the best in old and new books and should make it part of their duty to introduce students to the fun of checking publishers' catalogs and book lists, browsing about in a book- store or library, adding a few books to their own libraries every once in
a while, even denying themselves some more transient pleasure.
The fraternity and sorority houses, if they live up to their ambition to provide real college homes, and to encourage the cultural as well as the social side of life, should include well-equipped libraries. Open
60


ceS easy chairs, well-placed lights, but most of all books—the
bookcase^ ^ ^ ^ n e w — h o w many fraternity houses can boast
^ ? It is conceivable that a girl weighing one sorority against an-
&e s e ' - h even decide in favor of the one with the library—because gt
^ h a s never had enough time to read—but where would she find that
^Obviously a library cannot be alive without frequent additions which an expense. But why not a budget for books in the chapter budget? a r e * alumna- endowment for books? Or annual requests to alumnae f money for books, or for books to be selected from a designated list of •t i s? The college librarian or the local bookseller will be glad to UomDile a nucleus list and to keep it up to date. Tau Kappa Epsilon Jhroueh x/ic Teke has carried on a vigorous campaign to establish a
yb y m every Teke house with 100 per cent results. The Aglaia of phi Mu, March, 1930, carried an interesting article on Chapter House Libraries, by Lila May Chapman, director of the Birmingham, Alabama, oublic library, with a list of recommended books and suggestions for car- ing forthe library.
Where shall we look for the cultural influence of the fraternity house? The library offers the answer; and fraternity libraries in the future may be the inspiration of a change in the reading habits of college students and alumni—a vastly important group in the democracy.
Two years in ^Mexico (Continued from page 41)
entails a vast group dispense with the ceremony entirely and form an informal alliance. I am told that these are frequently as lasting as the actual marriages.
Should there be any of you who are longing for foreign travel, and yet whose finances will not allow you to think in terms of Europe or the Orient, come to Mexico. Be sure, however, to plan a trip at least as far as Mazatlan, Guadalajara—or Mexico City would be even better. This northern section does not offer such a great contrast to our own Southwest, but I feel sure that any who travel as far as the beautiful seacoast town of Mazatlan would be well rewarded for the trip. And, then, if possible add the thrill of traveling behind an armored car through the gorgeous tropical bandit-infested country between Mazatlan and
Guadalajara, and perhaps you will be more fortunate than I have been and be able to return with a story of a real bandit hold-up!
J A ^ARV, 1931 61