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SUMMER NEBRASKAN
JUNE 12, 1958
Tap on Wood
A few taps on a piece of wood that's how students in
several colleges and Universities in the Ivy circuit are trying
to build up alma mater. It is their own idea. It is one of those
things that might not yield any noticeable results in the first
or even the second year. But if they stick with it, within
not too long a time they should have an enduring addition
to school dignity and spirit.
The system works something like this: during an
examination if a student notices someone cheating, he taps
on the desk with his pencil. The tapping is picked up by
other students until the offender is forced by the social
pressure to rely on his own capabilities.
Nebraska sadly lacks any semblance of student effort
to eliminate cheating. Instead of being looked down upon,
in moft campus quarters it is openly condoned and practiced.
During an exam, when an instructor leaves the room for
a few minutes, the buzz goes up almost before he has crossed
under the transom.
The patrol system of policing exams does nothing to
stimulate honesty either. Hawk-eyed proctors stalking up
and down the aisles won t make students honest. It may
keep them from cheating while the proctor is standing on
top of them, but look out when the back is turned.
With the tremendous influx of teachers to the University
during the summer, the question of student honesty takes
on an even more significant light. If in the grade and high
schools of the state student honesty is not vigorously worked
for, these same students will bring their cheating habits
straight to the University in the next few years.
Even mere important to the University community is the
attitude of these teachers-turned-students. We sincerely hope
that these men and women who come here to pursue their
studies during the summer set higher standards of honesty
that their winter counterparts do. We believe they do. We
hope we are right.
Musings . . .
The next time you have one
of those sleepless nights
don't bother blaming the heat
or exams or women (or men, !
as the case may be). It's all
in the nose. If your rest is
disturbed, it's probably be
cause the right and left side
got into another squabble.
No fooling. This droplet of
wisdom comes straight from
that modern day almanac
commonly termed the Sunday
paper. Not to get sidetracked
into a study of the amazing
amount of conversational tid
bits to be found on the door
step every Sunday, on to the
nose and its nocturnal duties.
Anyway, it seems that
when you sleep on the left
side, your left nostril, buried
as it is in the pillow, takes
a siesta. This in turn shuts off
the left lung and the entire
left side of the body. Mean
while, topside, the hardwork
ing right side is doing all the
chores for its dozing partner.
Pretty soon the right side
decides that this nonsense
has gone on about long
enough and signals a valve
that it wants time out. Then,
the scientists say, all air is
turned off altogether and the
left side comes alive. Realiz
ing that it either has to work
or it's all over, it sends an
other signal that turns the
body over so that the right
side can rest awhile.
And here I'd been thinking
it was that lumpy mattress
when all the time the whole
problem has been my unco-operative
nostrils.
W& the first feme of our
papee. It eezBf iwepriate
f Z
Diana
by Diana Maxwell
here to mention some of the
writers whose names will
leap forth on this (and other)
pages from
week to
week.
G r andad
dy of our col
u m n i s t s
is Dick Shug
r u e, who
held some
position on
our winter
counter-
part that en
titled him to sit in a swivel
chair in a private office and
issue The Word to the rest
of us. I
For the feminine touch
there is Marilyn Coffey, who
is serving as right-hand gal,1
chief writer and sharer of
coffee breaks this summer.
Marilyn's fishing jaunt this1
week is typical of the sort of
whimsy to be expected from
her during the rest of the
hot months.
Appearing on another page
of our 8-page first effort
would be Bob Marters 'Strict
ly Sports-talk. Bob, who
works on the Journal sports
staff, is an ex-sports editor of
the Daily Nebraskan. We
hope for a weekly column
from him, but since he mar
ried his airline stewardess
Saturday, he seems to have
forgotten us for a week or
two.
And that's the group. The
unsung heroine of the whole
affair is the hardworking
sophomore who pounds the
'O Street beat drumming up
the ads to pay it all Barbara
Breakfast,
Anyone?
Who says he Is not a prod
uct of his environment?
What did you have for
breakfast this morning? Eggs
and bacon? A cup of coffee
and a roll?
Had you been an Australian
aborigine, you might hve
floated downstream breathing
through a hollow reed looking
for unsuspecting ducks sitting
on the water. A jerk
of webbed feet and duck for
breakfast.
Or suppose you were the
son of a biology professor in
one of the smaller colleges in
Nebraska. If professors al
ways speak the truth, you
might have been feating on
French fried Mexican grubs.
Shark fins or fish intestines,
moths or scorpions, rats or
watersnakes no matter what
your choice, people some
where in the world have sam
pled the food. (No data is
available on the mortality
rate.)
Have you tried ravishing
birds' nest to make tasty
soups? Or dipping bread in
wine as did the ancient
Greeks for their morning
meal?
Private Opinion
Bundles Traganza, the kid
in front of me in the third
row in fourth grade, always
yelled out "Bingo!" before he
even had four squares cov
ered with
beetle nuts. jTTV
But the f W
teacher pa
tiently went
over the
numbers she
had called
before she
ruled Bun
dles out of
the game.
Then he'd
turn around to me or up to
Billy Nellis and knock all our
markers off our bingo boards.
Boy. What a schmaltz he
was. Reminds me of some
people still around who try
to get the beat on you by
talking up before they have
any reason to and when they
get caught in the act, they
turn around and sabotage
your efforts to get ahead.
Well, it's probably not as
bad as all that, but you know
LAlU
Cowrtwy Journal
Star PrinUnf c.
ihugrue
Coffey Break....
Marilyn
Summer, watermelons.
shade, diving towers, ants,
lunch meat and studies. An
odd combination. For those
who dare to take a day off,
there is golf
and tennis,
s w i mming
and boating,
sun bathing
and fishing.
Be 1 onging
to t h e cult
that advo
cates wom
en b e in g
c o mpanions
as well as in
spirations to men, I chose to
join the fishing expedition.
The worms were dug, me
site chosen and the equip
ment transported to the edge
of the stream by that pack
animal known as woman.
With enthusiasm that equalled
my apprehension, the fisher
men baited their hooks, test
ed weights, scunded the bot
tom for depth and finally cast
those eager lines downstream.
As the hooks hit the water,
an explicit explanation of the
rules of the game began
aimed at adjusting the fluffy
haired few on the trip to the
sport.
1) Shhhhh.
2) Baiting someone else's
book (namely mine) is bad
luck.
3) They are not bead s;
they're sinkers, (look of utter
repulsion)
4) We have to smoke cigars
to keep away the mosqui
toes. No, YOU se the mos
quito lotion.
5) (Spoken with strained
voice) Just because the fish
possess no outward visible
semblance of a structure com
monly referred to in the west
ern hemisphere as 'ear
doesn't mean they can't bear.
Aad jo oa. Dob? cast witfi
By Marilyn Coffey
BOTH hands. Bull heads don't
have scales. Cast NEAR that
sunken log, not on it.
As the darkness of the night
increased, so did the number
of fish caught. We girls laid
down our poles to become
flashlight bearers and learned
something about the etiquette
of shining lights "On the
fish, not here," bellowed an
angry voice from the bushes.
As each fish was fully
reeled in, tbe length was care
fully measured with a span
of the hand and the decision
'To keep or not to keep" was
made. Although it was care
fully explained that stringing
a fish through the ul didn t
really hurt him, the men pre
ferred this job for themselves
supposing, I gathered, that
a wiggle from the fish might
produce an equally violent re
action from the young lady
stringing it resulting in both
fish and female floating in the
water.
At this point, something
about the superiority of the
male or female) could be in
cluded to provide ample ma
terial for the summer Lettenp
column.
Dare me?
Courageous Students
Object of Search
Met any eager, clever,
witty, courageous seals
lately? If so, point them in
tbe direction of room 309
Burnett
Or better yet, come yow
1L
The Summer Nebraskan,
altbongh staffed by students
in a beginning reporting
class, is looking for a few
additional reporters. No spe
cial Journalistic experience
is necessary, bat If yoa have
some, doa't stay away.
By Dick Shugrue
as well as I do that plenty
of folks would be happy to
shake your hand and stab you
in the back the same day of
the week.
As that great army officer
Soren S. Jensen once com
mented about such people,
"They're not just phonies,
they're smiling phonies.
Now there's a guy who's go
ing places as a philosopher.
it
Summer school. . . that
great experiment in intensi
fied learning. The first sum
mer I went to school here,
I thought I would never be
able to keep up with the
teachers and the other people
in the class. Then I learned
that teachers seem to take
more coffee breaks, do a lit
tle less work in a more com
pact period of time and the
greatest task that faces stu
dents is tbe task of faking
their way through late re
ports, tests, skipping eight
o'clock classes on Saturday
a.m. and other such great
jobs facing the year round
student.
Nevertheless, summer
school is a logical way of
learning. It's as different
from winter school (for want
of a better name) as the
Berlitz School of Languages
is to one of those "learn
fast" language records. In
other words, the concentrated
efforts required in summer
school seem to add continuity
to the study of history, seem
to avoid the forgetfulness
which piles up on you between
Monday and Wednesday dur
ing the regular session.
Ah, yes. Summer scfaooL
During the regular year
you'd be out raking leaves
in the afternoon or shoveling
snow from your front walk.
Now you can loll in the sun
and turn the pages of an in
triguing test book as you sip
on a soft lemon aide (if you
live on campus) or a mint
julep (if you live off campus.)
It's only in summer school
that you see eager people
swarm in from Rural Dis
trict 479 to continue their ed
ucation and hold on to that
teaching certificate. It's only
in summer school lhat the
worm turns on the people who
are out in the high school
classrooms all year being
harrassed by wild juvenile
delinquents. Now it s their
turn to ask ridiculous ques
tions of the profs here at the
University.
Without fear of contradic
tion (until tomorrow morn
ing's mail) I can say that
summer school is one ot inose
great experiences in life that
you say youH never be abla
to get through twice but can't
seem to avoid as each year
rolls around.
ft
Item: B.A.s. are you tired
of working in high schools?
Contrary to popular opinion,
the University hires B.A.I. la
the College of Arts and Sci
ences tnere are is of wen
teaching.
