Dick Gilder, leading under-graduate political sage and sworn foe of the Roosevelt Administration has two grand wise-cracks to tickle the ears of his Republican bosses with when he becomes a brass-hat in the G.O.P. propaganda offices in Washington this summer. Best: "...Since God must be somewhere behind the New Deal, it's his way of avenging the South for the 'Reconstruction' period". In addition: "...Good sports in the Republican ranks say it's got to be taken; it's just retribution for Warren Harding..."
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Spring Note: Archery has finally muscled in at Harvard. The recent discovery of an arrow sticking suspiciously far up in the Lowell House tower can be linked to an equally intriguing bit of news relayed us by one of our spies. While rowing up the river in a shell he was amused to see a shiny new arrow floating downstream followed by another, equally new and every bit as shiny. After really going to town on the problem he learned that they were two of three purchased, together with a "Robin Hood" standard brand bow, from Sears, Roebuck. The two in the river were the results of bad marksmanship. The one in the Lowell House tower was the result of annoyance at a noisy robin. If you want to know more, you'll have to ask Peter White. He was there. . . .
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Cammann Newberry and Arnett MacKennan, Gordon and Revel of Harvard's song-writing world, are quite pleased at being asked to join the famous ASCAP. As full fledged professionals (Mills Music, Inc. bought five of their Hasty Pudding songs) they can now join the society headed by such shining lights as Jerome Kern, Berlin, Gershwin, Walter Donaldson and others. Quite an honor, too, as well as being profitable. If the boys keep at it and keep turning out hits the way they've been doing they'll be drawing down big money soon. . . . Paging Brooks Bowman!
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Prophet Of Gloom Note: Word comes to us of a respectable middle-aged maid of Teutonic extraction who suddenly gave notice to her employers the other day after having lived with them in peace and quiet these twenty years. It seems she has her mind set on returning to Germany. When everyone asked in God's name why, she finally admitted she felt she'd like to say good-bye to her family. . . . "before the war". (V.F.W. might note). . . .
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Speedsters on the embankment might look out for that seemingly harmless police launch. It churned up the river and came up alongside a speed-merchant on the road in a brand-new V-8 the other night, and put the see on him. (What they call an octopus in trout's clothes). . . . Seems to us Ann Marster's experiment in playing the horses hasn't been too great a success. We've been noticing quite a few reports lately starting, 'Only picked one winner yesterday' Back to getting the dirt on Harvard's wild cock-tail parties, Ann!. . . . Incidently the freshmen seem to have found a way of getting the wheels turning at their smoker last night: they merely stood up and threw cheese, crackers and doughnuts at each other until Jimmy Foxx appeared, minus a bat or even a catcher's mask. The great first-bagger's personality did wonders and the riot was over in less time than it takes to say Col Charles R. Apted, '06. . . . The report, current in New York, that the Germans have mined the entire line of French border fortifications, amuses us for some queer reason. It seems so silly, the French sitting in their great concrete bomb-shelters waiting for the war while the Germans quietly crawl under the forts and leave tons upon tons of T.N.T., after which they return to a lusty meal of frankfurts and sauerkraut, the enfants de la patrie firmly ensconced in the palm of their hand. The best-laid schemes, etc., etc., . . . . See you Friday!