The Lucky Bag
After last week's fiasco in which our efforts appeared under two titles, Lucky Bag and Double Talk, we have mustered courage enough to drown our indignation and again dip the Parker for the SERVICE NEWS.
A pair of Dons, McNees and Royce, were seen "operating" in the Commodore Grill last Saturday--so they say. Word from Batt Comm Brocker says that the differences in atmosphere between the Hasty Pudding Club and Miss Inglis' headache are negligible. Fred "No relation to the Ale" Ballentine is rumored to have stumbled on something while renewing acquaintances at American Airlines recently. Gad, the luck of some people.
Do you find it increasingly hard to think of things to say in a letter? Do you have trouble finding time to write? If you don't, you're from a long line of supermen, and we'll appreciate some tips. Of course, guys like Kirby Pickel aren't included.
Who's the joker who said that the messenger watch was easy? Ye gods, they must have saved a week's messages for us, if that's true.
Those informal dinners with the faculty were really a novel idea. Gives you a chance to find out that teachers are humans, too. Remarks about that picture on our desk will please cease. It was raining cold, and besides, that guy couldn't take a good snapshot. No matter what Nielsen tells you, it's not a matter of "doing the best with what he had to work with."
Latest of the fast-growing list of "Chase Chorus Boys" is the eminent and spindly-legged Randy "Ghost" Phillips. Shades of Hollywood and Vine Appeared as the patrons of the Latin Quarter viewed the night beauty contest, and Phillips' frail physique. For dead old Harvard, Randolph came through, and received a bottle of wine for his efforts.
And speaking of Ghosts, have you seen Don Perkins haunting the barracks of late? Poor "Perk"--as the other pale men call him--was last seen riding a local gust of wind, so prevalent in Boston. Pool shark, as well as the distinguished buddy of his namesake roommate, Smitty Smith spent a quiet weekend resting--as he termed it. Maybe he hasn't heard about Scollay Square--or is it "triangle"?
There aren't words big enough to tell about Al Samman's and Bill Shuey's big party on the recently ended weekend. Joined by Puckett, a one-time shoe salesman, and "Light foot" O'Donnell, as well as "Parade Rest" Rinetti, the boys seem eager for another shot at a "six men wanted for a late party" deal.
Joe Mathes is the dubiously-honored recipient of many press notices, verbally offered by his roommates--who seem fascinated by Joe's many athletic abilities. "Track is my favorite,' says Joe, "broad jumping and running the dashes are my specialty, but baseball isn't far behind."
We don't know how the second platoon or Midshipman Violand is taking it, but the "Villanova Villain" Malone is quite broken up over the silenced cadence of J. H. He agrees the co-ordination is for the better, but "things won't be the same without Violand," sayeth Malone.