THE UNDERGRADUATE CHAIR
To every action, there must be an equal and definite reaction, say the physicists. Hence the "new Dartmouth," a little strange and a bit disquieting to a Senior who has watched the College stewing in its own juice for the last three years. And yet the explanation is fairly obvious: years of rather aggravating pseudo-sophistication; years of phony aestheticism; years of indifferent football teams—and boom! the campus awakes to the need for Real College Life. Our student leaders (so earnestly requested in the last instalment of the Undergraduate Chair) urge a return to the rugged old days of true college enthusiasm; and in consequence are equipping freshmen with bright green megaphones for cheering rallies. The student body demands color in all this Dartmouth drabness; and all at once they are out hazing freshmen as of yesteryear.
Obviously enough, some reaction had to manifest itself. That it turns out to be Reaction in every sense of the word was likewise to be expected; for this is a campus that cast an eight-to-one vote in favor of Hoover as opposed to Roosevelt in the straw poll last October. With the entire country moving on in new directions under the novel economic aegis of a Blue Eagle, Dartmouth—beset with its own little spiritual depression—sagely turns back the clock in a desperate attempt to "get something out of college."
Palaeopitus, that physician extraordinary to the student body, was never so unsound in its pharmacology as upon this occasion. The patient does not need the hypodermic of football hysteria and freshman hazing; but rather Dartmouth is crying for steady doses of genuine enthusiasm toward maturity and everything this college has to offer in preparation for life. Dartmouth College lives only by the men it graduates; and jingoism is perhaps the poorest substitute for manhood imaginable.
VOX CLAMANTIS IN DESERTO
Yet this "new deal at Dartmouth," as some unconscious joke-smith has dubbed it, has already aroused a definite objection in the minds of a few "sad young men." Peculiarly enough, they are rather unenthusiastically (high treason!) allowing the bandwagon 10 roll on its merry way without them. But they are doing far more than sneering cynically: indeed, they have founded a weekly newspaper "of controversy and interpretation" to register their opinion that the present set-up is not "the best of all possible setups."
Edited by C. B. Strauss '34, assisted by R. A. Morton and C. B. Hess among others, this new Steeplejack will attempt the delicate task of establishing some intellectual constants amid the Good Clean Fun and Honest Enthusiasm which will rear its collective head this fall. The editors are possessed of the idea that a few doses of straight long-time thinking might not hurt the college one little bit. In addition to "doing their part" against the New Deal at Dartmouth, the young men at the helm intend to provide a medium of literary and intellectual expression for all men in the college so interested. Cabell is now dead forever. All is not lost, then; there will be "dead cats in the air" come this frolicsome fall.
FRATERNITIES JUST FRATERNITIES
Just a wee bit tired of spending their fraternal years chasing after assorted freshmen, the fraternities of the campus promulgated a new set of rulings last June. They take effect with that much bedevilled class of 1937, about which every organization on campus is having its own personal worry. The general gist —that the fraternities will in all honor leave the fledgelings alone for their entire freshman year—is remarkably sound. The freshmen will enjoy it; the joy and peace of the upperclassmen will know no bounds. This main point of the rulings is buttressed with formidable clauses like fifty-dollar fines and Judicial Boards for infractions; but no penalty will cause unethical practices to cease unless the fraternities realize that they are now in a tight spot which demands their working together. Heartily in favor of the plan as we are, we cannot overlook in passing two logical consequences of the scheme as a whole. The first is that enforcement of the plan will probably effect the death of a few of the smaller houses in future years; the second, that a new cohesive substitute (to replace the year's rushing) will have to be devised to keep the fraternities of the future together.
PAINTING THE BARN
And as regards fraternities, the College came through handsomely and redecorated the old Dragon Tomb, inside and out, for the Non-Fraternity Club, that new organization of stalwart independents. There seems quite a possibility that these boys—ninety strong at presentmay give the whole fraternity system a run for its money. All classes save freshmen are eligible for membership after the official sinking period is over; and with the financial bogy what it is to-day, the membership may fill the Tomb to the very crypts.
Of interest as always is The Dartmouth, which this fall has gone into six columns for the first time. The lay-out remains much the same, and interviews abound as ever; but we have grounds of some sort for hope that the editorial columns will really have something to say in the coming months.
SUMMER SPORTS
It was a matter of considerable pleasure to scan the sport-sheets this summer and note the surprising progress of many of our varsity men in tournament play. Bob Husted, tennis star last spring, managed to win some five singles tournaments, annexing! the Vermont State singles in the course of events. Art Noble and Paul Guibord, likewise raqueteers of note, took home the doubles titles of Southern Maine, Vermont, and Eastern Massachusetts.
The golf team kept the torch burning in exceedingly creditable fashion. Chet Birch, 1934 captain-elect, went to the quarter-final of the National Intercollegiates, and later won the Green Meadow Invitation tournament. Mac Feinberg, Sophomore hope, captured the Westchester County Junior title, winning the medal in that event.
Jack Odell, Dartmouth's gallant crew enthusiast, took the major title of the year, however, by walking off with the National Intercollegiate Yachting Championship all by himself, or with a few other people. It was a good summer all around. But the future lies in the lap of the gods, say the physicists.
