Ten Scribulus CONSOLATION When pain, so subtle, strikes so deep Across a broken heart, Remember some one, close and dear, From whom you'd never part. If gloom brings grief to sear your soul. When darkest hours are near, Then think of one who walked with death To give your soul life here. The blackest clouds don't seem so black Or hours not quite so stark When Mother's sweet serenity Proves pain will leave no mark. A mother's strength lends faith in you When sorrow numbs your soul A mother's love is God's great gift To help you reach life's goal. Emily Merrill. The Value Of Extra-Curricular Activities (continued). Another result of this variation of activities is that there is always a reserve of interest elsewhere, however intensive the work in one field may become. Thus, if a disappointment comes in one field, there are always other lines to be taken up. The point to be stressed is, activities should be varied and numerous, but if desired, a specialization is one field is beneficial. Therefore, it is apparent that a proper balance of activities in life is desirable because of the resultant benefits: an increased interest in life and a better understanding of people. The contention has been brought out that the way to this proper balance can be discovered at college. The method suggested is through participation in extra-curricular activities. It has been pointed out that a system should be used in determining the special needs of the individual, in order to participate more intelligently and to secure best results. We have, then, justified the present college set-up with regard to general preparation for better enjoyment of life by pointing out virtues of extra-curricular activities. These activities have a broadening effect that makes for happiness, and the machinery for this purpose can not be found and has never existed that was as efficient as the present college system. If the college can accomplish the ends set forth here, and it is doing it now to a certain extent, it will be performing a service that is badly needed today it will be by teaching how to get the most out of life. They say that gentlemen prefer blondes, so now we submit to you, gents a super, colossal specimen of Weber co-ed. About five feet six. Plenty of Wim, Wigor, and Wy. The paper said that men could handle blondes, but you just try handling Dorothy Bowman. Scribulus Eleven THE TALISMAN By Melvin Jennings "Smiling Jim" Hansen, the amiable middle-aged superintendent of the I. and M. Construction Company, and "Blackie" Cromp, his young efficient foreman walked towards the steam shovel as though they were guided by instinct. The night, cloudless yet pitch black, seemed to be overcharged with a pregnant silence. Occasionally, over the rolling hills from the north, came the howl of a hungry coyote. The yawning jagged-walled channel-change to their right loomed a stygian black when compared to the darkness of the east bank on which they walked. Neither had spoken since they left the construction camp in search of Smiling Jim's time book, which Blackie had purposely hidden in a cable-drum in the cab of the shovel. The shovel had been moved out of the channel and onto the bank just before the blast that let the river into its new course. The blasting marked the finish of that job and the beginning of moving to the next one. Blackie Cromp, who had often bragged that he had had "to resort to extreme measures" occasionally in order to promote himself, and that one day, "not too far off," he would be the "big shot" of the I. and M., was quite certain that the blast marking the beginning of a new job also marked the beginning of a new life for him: the life of a superintendent. He was in line for promotion, but would never be promoted with Jim Hansen holding the job he wanted. Removing Jim was just another "extreme measure." And once he had realized this next promotion, Blackie had promised himself the pleasure of "canning" "Shorty" Smithers, the capable but too inquisitive shovel-operator and friend of Smiling Jim. He complimented himself upon the sublety of his making Shorty an indirect accomplice by hiding Jim's time-book in Shorty's shovel. Blackie smiled contemplatively as he walked for the last time with Smiling Jim Hansen. At least, he was almost sure it was the last time. Nothing could go wrong now. Hadn't he prepared and executed the preliminary plans very successfully, even to the excuse to get Jim alone and close to the channel-change where an accident could easily happen? A misplaced step, a stumble, perhaps temporary dizziness, even a bank cave-in anything would do to explain Jim's death. But Blackie wouldn't do the explaining. Let those who found Jim offer the explanation. No one had seen them leave camp together; Blackie assured himself, "everything's running smoothly." "Looks like we're all set, Tally," Blackie silently said through thin lips dis-tored with gloating and ever-present wonder at his own efficiency. He spoke to the prized possession he had introduced to any and all as his friend and luck-piece. He called it "Talisman," "Tally" for short, and held a sincere belief in its possession of a charm, because he personally had imbued it with charm. Tally, in keeping with its owner's self-satisfaction and braggardism, was an unsually large cameo set in a ring of heavy sterling silver. "Nothing has kept us from getting what we wanted yet, and thanks to you, we're still 'respectable.'" Blackie sneered sarcastically to himself as he again spoke silently to his friend Tally. Suddenly, as though in a hurry to be done with what should have been a lingering pleasure, Blackie grabbed Jim with his right hand, swung him around to face himself, and struck out with his left fist at the