SOME PEOPLE'S KIDS AT COLLEGE By AUDRI MONTGOMERY, DE ETTE MATCHAN BILL MURDOCK, TOM WARDLE Students of Weber College now have a beautiful new campus nearly ready for occupancy, but in the meantime they are still dwelling in their "ancient halls of ivy." Each of these old campus buildings has its own personality and reflects the interests of its dwellers, as every good home should. The buildings are not modern and beautiful, but every one of these historic edifices, from West Central to Eccles Hall, is just loaded with character and characters! MELTING POT Hundreds of students meet, talk, play, and sometimes fight in the "melting pot" of the college. This place where strangers get together, become friends, find wives and ogle all females, is the long corridor running east and west on the lower floor of the archaic Central Building. It was a cold morning, and as soon as Bill Murdock entered the Central Building he sought the comfort of a radiator which has its locale at the focus point of all off-the-record events among students who kill time in Central. It is tenderly known as the hot seat. Lincoln Clifford ambled over from his locker and offered to share the warmth of the radiator. After leaning back against it for a few moments, he gave a nimble leap, like a startled fawn deer with urgent business elsewhere. He placed a delicate hand on his posterior, a comical look of anguish upon his face. This was not the first time he had singed his rear bumper there, nor would it be his last, such are the attractions of the place. Bill and Link immediately got onto the usual subject of recent dates and girls, when Bill noticed Boyd Rasmus-sen and Roger Blair playing catch with a tennis ball. Boyd took a terrific windup and let fly with the ball down the length of the corridor. But its speed was soon realigned when it came into contact with an unsuspecting prof's head. The instructor stood for a moment with a dazed look on his map. He was used to such incidents, and resumed his walk toward his classroom without saying any word, neither profanity nor joke. Boyd thereupon came out from behind a trash can and began the search for his tennis ball. It belonged to his mother, and he wanted to find it before the blood dried on it. About this time, Ann Knight shimmied down the hall surrounded by a pack of hall wolves. (A hall wolf is a college man who spends most of his time in the halls watching pretty girls walk by.) Nelson Wright and some other boys thought up the bright idea of tossing Ann into the trash can. "Why would they want to place such a lovely thing in a trash can?" inquired Bill of no particular person. Bill is known by the profs around here as the fellow with walking amnesia, and since this is so he had not seen Ann in one place long enough to know she had asked for it. Besides, it promised to be fun to lay hands on this well wrapped package. After the wolves had shoved her in the garbage, they decided to lift the container to the top of the lockers. Then, Wright (sometimes known as Wrong), began to recite Romeo and Juliet to the fair Juliet in the trash can atop the lockers. But Ann looked so lonely with face and feet protruding from the can that the wolves decided she needed Jerry Davis for a companion piece. Jerry sprinted for the exit with the hall wolves howling at his heels. They think he planned to catch a train for Alaska. Link said, "I believe he doesn't wish to be canned with Ann." It is the small incidents like these that make Central such a lovely place for the timid to stay away from, and such a fine place to go for the girls and the wolves and the people who like just to watch nuts and squirrely doings. THE SO-CALLED LADIES' LOUNGE "Somebody's studying get her out of here!" This is almost a rule in the one and only Weber College lounge, sometimes known as the Ladies' Lounge. Who goes there to study anyway? Very few. But perhaps once a quarter a book worm bores her way in. She saunters in innocently enough and flops herself down on a real cushiony couch. (Rule: Remove the shoes first.) She takes pencil in hand, opens book, writes one word. That's all the farther she gets because just then someone greeted as "High Ann" bounces in and yells, "Look, finger's broken." High Ann has a cast on it made out of one pencil and two hankies. High Ann moans, pulls faces, joins hen session across the room. Miss Book Borer, a stranger in Paradise, resumes writing word in notebook. Finds thoughts wandering to beauty combing mane before mirror. "Wish I had shape, face, hair like that." Miss Glamor Pose flexes, tosses brown eyes back over shoulder sometimes males get lost in lounge too reclaims eyes, departs to better hunting grounds. About then Miss Borer is distracted from envious thoughts directed toward suicide by stick who makes dive over the counter of the lounge (once upon a time could have been a bar), and somersaults onto floor. Boy, what a card! Boy, what an act! Girl is knitting argyles for father she says. That makes Miss Argyle Knitter think about her guy, which makes her think about marriage, which makes her start gabbing with the mob around about. MOENCH BASEMENT The New Student buzzed through the south entrance and down the stairs into Moench cellar. A chorus of bel-lowings like the love calls of a herd of bull moose (actually they love to be alone to love), let him know he was not by himself in the building. He ventured several hesitant steps down the stairs and around the corner by the room marked MEN. This feat he completed just right to sidestep a low-flying text skidding along the floor of the underground alley. It thudded against the door of Wally Baddley's office, ricocheted into the opening to the furnace room. He picked it up, looked it over, read the name inside Bill Donohoo. Now he saw several figures crashing into lockers, shoving each other against door casings, hopping about like deranged kangaroos. He hefted the book and shied it back whence it had come and resumed his hazardous journey to locker 381. Yeh, I read that book for lunch. Twenty Standing there trying to pry the locker door open (he had forgotten his key), he underheard the intellectual exchanges of the combatants. A voice boomed, "Ha, ha, ha! Bill loves Marilyn! Bill loves Marilyn! It's wrote all over his book." "Ah, you dogs! You dirty so and so's! Especially you, Slater." "Hold everything, fellas, everything!" In the momentary, unnatural silence, right past the group of goggle-eyed statues strolled curvaceous C.V. Robinson, smiling coyly to herself. Then they were at it again. New Student gave up on the locker door, wondering whether to transfer to BYU now or wait and come to Weber next year. THE LIBRARY Are you guilty? Have you committed the exceptional exception? In other words, do you study in the library? If either you do or don't or would like not to, here are some time-passing study habits you may wish to borrow from some of the campus intellectuals who do use the facility. First, leave us deal with Virginia (Gus) Holtry and Crystal (Chris) Broderick. They loaf into the division of the reading facility known as the Talking Room loaded down with printed matter. You're allowed to whisper, get acquainted with the attractions, play footsie and generally add to your knowledge of zoology inside this cage. Rule number one is pui on a good front. They choose a table with backs to the wall (theirs) in a corner, unload their burdens and proceed with the first study movements such as repairing makeup, scanning for social possibles (there are none just now), patting locks into place, scratching behind ears with pencils. All of a sudden Gus blinks, then bursts out with, "Did-ja know Virginia spelled backwards is Ainigriv?" "Nope," nose-giggles Chris (who should be better known as Chris), "but didja know Crystal spelled backwards is Latsyrc?" After acquiring these bits of esoterica (secret stuff), Gus and Chris spot a social possible and meander around to another table where Nelson Wright (whose using name could be Nell, Nelly or Nels), is reading, or was reading, at the latest edition of "Current Biography." Know why? Marilyn Monroe's picture is in it along with her life story. Then, seeing the class of competition they have with Nels, they wander on to the main library and do sneak-up behind Duane Ozmun (who is not known as either Ozzie or Mun, but could be), and guess what! Pasted inside Mun's Life Science book is the newest copy of "Looney Toones and Merry Melodies." "Shame to you, Ozzie," they say over his shoulder. Ozzie answers, "Issa well known fack that book learning is easier und more interestin' with pichers." (Tha's thunkin' it out, Oz.) There is always someone who has to be a killjoy and get down to business, and so the girls walk around Dwane Parker (not too well known as Parky), delving into the contents of a thick book, head bent, ewe-necked. If Gus and Chris had taken the usual look-see, they would have been interested to note he was perusing "Sex Life of the Human Female." How come, Parky? Oh, 'scuse. We should know you was given the assignment in Home Ec. Dwane was one of the brave college men who took the course winter quarter. So there you have it, the library through the wandering eyes of Gus and Chris, we think. HOME OF BEAUTIFUL WOMEN Dear Mom . . . Gosh, it's almost time to move out of the dorm. We've sure had a lot of fun here! I told you about the night Johnny came up and some of the girls put on a floor show complete with horn-rimmed glasses and "noses" didn't I? Poor fellow, he hasn't been the same since. They danced, sang and completely bewildered him. But what else could he expect in our dear mortuary, as it's been called? Other titles are "Bertha Eccles Hall, Home for Discouraged Women," and "Bertha's Barn." We considered answering the phone with "B. E. H., Home of Beautiful Women," but turned chicken at the last minute. You know, this isn't the quietest house in the world. I think the telephone rings more here than it does at home, even. And we have a grand piano. Jane, Karen, Marjean and Judy make good use of that. Of course, we other twelve gals don't add to the commotion at all. Lila and Ivy just try incessantly to scare each other, with resulting screams. Mealtimes someone yells from first floor to third to "come and get it!" Kitty and De Ette were the only ones "home" the Saturday during spring vacation. They were in that pleasant state between sleep and consciousness when there came a soft knock at the door. It was Gertie. "Well," she said, "I almost thought there was no one here. It's so quiet I can hear my hair grow." We had a house meeting the other night. We go in two states . . . padding in in bare feet and night clothes or dashing in late all dressed in date clothes. Judy came in the other night and got completely lost when she heard the gang talking. All they were saying was: A. "He's such a doll!" B. "But I don't like to kiss him!" C. 'Do you like my hair this way?" B. "It's okay. I won't do it again. I don't care if he doesn't ask me out again. He's just not the kissing type." A. "I'm still in the clouds. He likes my silly nose!" But it is really so simple to understand. A. talks about Joe, B. talks about Jim, always. Whoops, here's Ivy needing help. She's lost a button in the washing machine. Write real soon and tell me how everyone is, won't you? . . . Love. "O Sole Mio! If Abe can do it, I can." Gad, what a final. Twenty-one