THE UNDERGRADUATE CHAIR

EXCEPT for a few minor differences, the arrival of the student body on campus this fall was as colorful and confused as ever. The atmosphere was crowded with smiles on meeting new friends, conversations about what was done during the summer, deep concentration as students thought about what they had to do next, and discouragement when placement exams seemed uselessly time-consuming.

There were busy people searching for furniture for their rooms, worried orientation men checking on their problem charges, fraternity brothers with their appropriated freshman helpers putting the finishing touches to the houses before rush began, and all the other activities involved in putting things in order.

The freshman class, as usual, appeared in larger numbers but gave the impression of smaller size per individual. To the upperclassmen, who seldom realize they are getting older, the '65s looked more brilliant in academic areas and less mature on the social level. The freshmen themselves displayed the normal spectrum of emotions on their arrival. There were the shy and scared freshmen who wandered about looking for a reassuring word or a new friend who would share their problems. There were the enthusiastic pea-greeners who couldn't wait to get started in college life. And there were the hesitant types who waited quietly to see what life at Dartmouth was all about.

Enthusiasm, pride, shyness, fear, and the familiar touches of homesickness were all present in the new class. And with these normal emotions, the usual number of high-school quarterbacks and class presidents and valedictorians and so on, the freshman class can best be described as typical.

Not quite so typical, however, was the campus that greeted them. Suddenly it seems that the plain is infested with construction projects. With mixed emotions students watch work on the Hopkins Center, the math-psych building, the new Nervi field house (referred to lovingly as "the quonset hut"), and the new Aquinas House being built, of all places, at the end of fraternity row.

The new Wigwam dorms were ready for occupancy, and several students may have subtly voiced their disapproval by walking through two ground level windows they "mistook" for doorways.

Confusion, especially in the ranks of the freshmen, reigned only a short while. Under the direction of the hard-working and competent J. Kent Morton '62, an adept group of orientation men took charge of the disorganized and uniformed '65s. With the Palaeops clad in white, the Green Key men in green and white, and the IDC in black and white, groups of freshmen could be seen being escorted about the campus, being advised on matters of importance, and receiving answers to their many questions.

Naturally the cry of "Hey '65" echced constantly. The cries of the upperclass-men were answered with almost disarming enthusiasm — at least for the first few tiresome days. C & G had their ancient hat-rack on the sidewalk next to the bookstore, and vendors across campus charged their outrageous prices for battle-scarred furniture, making the normal robber-baron profit from the unfortunate victims.

But the furniture soon disappeared into the rooms, and the desperate cries of the upperclassmen were met with rehearsed excuses or empty cardboard boxes being carried by the now-knowing freshmen. Thanks to the regularly scheduled, properly organized, and smoothly executed orientation activities, the frosh soon learned what "it was all about" and united as a class. Instead of confused freshmen wandering about, organized '65s built bonfires, chanted from 1 to 65 (wild cheers), provided a human corridor for the football team to use when entering the Stadium, noted the advantages of membership in the 35 organizations described and displayed for them on Activities Night, listened intently to lectures by Professors Childs and Stewart, deposited a Volkswagen on the steps of Sanborn House, raided fraternity row, and even learned to tolerate Thayer Hall, despite its increased charges.

FRATERNITY rushing consisted of the usual whirlwind of smiles, hand shakes, small talk, frustrations, long hours of discussion on the part of the brothers, and long hours of waiting and hoping on the part of the rushees. Disorder reigned for the first three days of the period as decisions were being forced out of a melee of information collected within an all-too-short period of time. But, in the end, houses were found to suit the tastes of a number of rushees (they thought), and rushees were found to suit the tastes of the brothers (they hoped), and the whole "mess" resolved itself fairly well.

Several things in this year's rush are worthy of note. In the first place, a great deal of discussion was generated among the fraternity brothers concerning the differences between the present rushing dass and their own class when they rushed. Many seem to feel that the present rushees were far less adept in social situations and had less "to offer" a house. Others felt that rushees were more discriminating in their choices this year and that joining per se was a thing of the past. No statistics are available to support either opinion.

Houses generally were more exclusive than ever this year, preferring to keep openings rather than pledge unwanted rushees. This represents quite a change from previous years when openings were filled regardless, just so the house bills could be paid. Basically the "old" upperclassmen, it seems, are refusing to accept the fact that they are older, and even more, that they are not the greatest students ever to hit Dartmouth - hence the present controversy over whether the rushees are "measuring up" to standards they set when they rushed.

Two other curious facts could be mentioned in this regard. First is that pledgebrother "raids" and "counter-raids" and other shenanigans are louder, more intense, and far less original than usual. A member of Palaeopitus has even found it necessary to request more discretion, since injury and property damage have already been recorded. Second is the fact that for the first time in many years the IFC has seen fit to abolish the dispensing of alcoholic beverages during the rush period. Perhaps the upperclassmen are not as "socially mature" as they think!

FOR the most part, the return of the juniors and seniors was a routine event. Relaxed and confident, the "drunken" and "grand-old" classes seemed ready for the last laps in their Dartmouth careers. Some came back intent on getting a solid start in their majors or bolstering their averages. Others, of course, returned intent on bolstering their average number of road trips per month, and these men were hardly discouraged when they read an article re- printed by The Dartmouth from the Colby Junior College Courier. One choice section read, "So when you see the invasion of the green, don't hide or panic, because you'll only be hurting yourself by killing your fun."

With mixed emotions, the seniors heard Director Gene Lyons deliver the keynote lecture opening the Great Issues Course, and prepared themselves - in as many different ways as can be imagined — to attack the topic of "War and Peace," a truly great issue.

An interesting change in the course will be in effect this year. Instead of the department's reading hundreds of "Ernest Hemingway-type" GI journals, the seniors will be privileged to read a book by Ernest Hemingway himself. Discussion groups have also been added to increase the ability of seniors to get to the heart of a "great issue."

And so the confusion and color came and went as the student body returned to Hanover and prepared for another year.

George Waruhiu, a freshman from Kenya, is the subject of aCBS-TV Report, directed by Bill Leonard '37 (left), to be telecast this winter as the story of how an African student arrives

in this country and gets acquainted with an American college.At right, George O'Connell, director of the Dartmouth NewsService, shows Waruhiu how to throw a football.

Three former Baker Library colleaguesreunited as top administrators at ConcordCollege, Athens, W. Va., are (l-r) HeadLibrarian Arthur Flandreau, PresidentJoseph F. Marsh Jr. '47, and Dean of theFaculty Theodore D. Lockwood. Marshand Lockwood were instructors in GreatIssues, 1952-53, and Flandreau was oneof Baker's reference librarians.