It's a Dog's Life By MARY POUND Dogs, dogs, dogs ... all over the campus . . . big, little, in between . . . scratching in the shrubbery . . . chewing off the bark . . . staking out territories from tree to tree to fire plug . . . and I right in the middle of this frenzied extracurricular activity. No wonder I was fagged. I lay on the sidewalk in front of the Moench Building with my breath coming in wheezy gasps and my fuel pump ready to blow a gasket. I chided myself with reminders that I was fat and soft and not as young as I used to be and that there's no fool like an old fool, et cetra, et cetra, et cetra. But coming from me the reprimand was tempered with indulgence and what had started as a scorcher turned out to be a fizzle. And anyway the day was a Lulu. A whole week had been spent in preparation for it a week of warm but gusty winds that had freed the ice and melted the snow for the earth to sop up. A day of blue sky and golden sunshine and clean willowy smells. An April day plunked down in the middle of March. A day that granted brief license to all things joyous because tomorrow February might snatch back the calendar. The sound of the latch and the door being opened pricked up my ears and pleasure wagged my tail when I saw my two favorite students cross the threshold of the Moench Building. Intuition had probably planted me right in their path. Of course habit didn't have a thing to do with it or hope that Doris would pat my head and Ken would feed me candy that was so ruinous to my figure and digestion. Oh no! But today they didn't even see me. "Hey!" I said, "You can't cold-shoulder an old pal like me." "Go 'way," he said, a command which I chose to ignore. "If you are so bored with my company, you needn't come any further," she said to him. "The dog will walk me home." "I didn't say I was bored." "You implied it." "All I said was . . ." "All you said was, 'Jeannie is the most entertaining girl I've met.' " "Well, if there was any reference to you in that statement, I fail to see it." "There was an insinuation there, a low-down insinuation that I'm not entertaining." "Well, in your present mood you're not." The three of us had reached the curb. There was a cluster of girls further along at the edge of the campus. Doris had turned her back on them to hide her agitation, and so they "Yoo hoo'd" and waved at Ken and one of them made a beckoning gesture of invitation. There was indecision in Ken's eyes, and something like panic in Doris'. "Old boy," said I to myself, "this calls for adroit handling." I crossed the street matter-of-factly and entered the park, and after awhile they followed. "Well," Doris conceded, "Jeannie is new and she comes from Phoenix and she's pretty and vivacious and I guess she is more entertaining than I." She was being generous only for the pleasure of hearing it denied. But Ken was young and inexperienced and his feelings were hanging out all over the place, so. "Uh huh," was his reply. "She's pretty super." "That settles it," and Doris turned her back. "Listen here, you blockhead, you numbskull, you nincompoop!" I raged at him. "Can't you see what's eating Doris? She's scared plumb scared to death. Why don't you open those baby-blue eyes of yours and take a gander at what's happening at Weber? What with a lot of those fellows who haven't yet received the President's greetings rushing off to join up, there's almost twice as many gals as guys. The competion is so fierce it's stupefying. And now this little blonde what's-her-name, who doesn't mean a thing to you, comes along and Doris sees her as double dynamite. No wonder she isn't acting normal. Nobody is these days. Go on over to her and try to smooth things out." "Quit yapping," he rebuked. Doris, startled by my garrulity, turned around. It was then I noticed she carried loosely in one hand a silk scarf of turquoise and amber and a lot of other colors running around in a squiggly design. I made a grab for it and went tearing kitty-cornered across the park, looking back as I ran, to make sure they were in pursuit. I could hear their calls, coaxing, commanding, clamoring. I kept in the lead until I was sure that the exhilaration of the chase had washed away the animosity in their souls and then I permitted myself to be caught. "Oh, my poor scarf!" she wailed. "Let me take it and I'll have it cleaned," he offered. "That's awfully sweet of you, Ken, and thanks, but I'll Lux it out and it'll be like new. See, it isn't even torn." She held it up for inspection. "I'm glad, because it's so pretty. The brown in it just matches the little specks in your eyes when they catch the sunlight. Oh boy, oh boy! I hadn't noticed what a honey of a day it is!" He stretched luxuriously, linked her arm in his and they turned homeward. The sun at their backs threw their shadows before them in elongated caricature and they laughed at themselves. And what did I do? Well, I decided to hunt up Yutang, the chow down the street and two houses over, and discuss with him the complexities of the human race. I don't know what man would do without his best friend. And there was no denying it it sure had been a honey of a day. The next morning it snowed three inches. 20 Dancign With My Darling Orchids for all at the Orchid Ball. Passing out the blossoms are Florence Farr, Jackie Trapp, Joanne Petty. Jack Porter, president of Phoenix, looks over queen contestants and escorts, Bruce Thompson, Janet Gourley, Jerry Nilsson, Rae Jean Poulter, Ralph Mac-farlane and June Cliften. Sharing the throne as Sweethearts of Excelsior and Otyokwa are Cless Pack and Marilyn Jones. Sterling Davis, rated "Most Preferred Man," tries to bear up under it all. The cup was the prize. Getting everything out of a dreamy number are Velma Duke and Ralph Macfarlane, Joy McArthur and Jack Alberts. 21