> 

Return this book on or before the 
Latest Date stamped below. 

Theft, mutilation, and unde^l^lng of boot<$ 
are reasons for disciplinary action and may 
result in dismissal from the University. 
University of Illinois Library 


, m 3 


12882 ^^ 


'^ 


1 




' < g 




■' ' "•-. 




1 


^ • 


t^- 






Ip! 






L161 — O-1096 



n ILL- Collsct/'^^ 

HE Green Caldron 

A MAGAZINE OF FRESHMAN WRITING 

^ OCT 31 1957 



CONTENTS 

Jeon Deichirst: The Difference Bet>*een a Clas^tical 

and a Pragmatic Education 1 

Ronald W . Sadeicater: Somebody Does Care 3 

Donna Toika. Fathers .\re Nice, But Mothers Are Smarter ... 5 

Joan McDiarmid: Tall Girl 6 

S. Ward Hamilton^ III: The Craziest Event of My Life .... 7 

Joseph E. Guderian: Only Eight Seconds? 8 

Gail Dent: The First Que 8 

David Bernian: Toward Safer Sports Car Racing 9 

John B. Means: The Moscow Mother Goose 11 

Sayre D. Andersen: The Real Cleaning of College 12 

W Uliam L. Magnnson: Swan Song 13 

Frances Aulisi: "Literature is printed nonsense," Strindberg . 14 

W olfgang Schids: A Vision 16 

Joanne E. Ruck: Son of Man 17 

Norman Mysliicies: The Love of Life 19 

Eugene Bryerton: Good Lord 19 

PhUUp A. Weibler: Where I \^ ould Like to Be Now 21 

Frederick R. W ells: Vi here the City Ends 22 

W illiam C. If illoughhy: Cayucas I Have Known 23 

Rhet as W rit 28 



Vol.27, No. 1 October, 1957 



UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 



T, 



HE Green Caldron is published four times a year by the 
Rhetoric Staff at the University of Illinois. Material is chosen 
from themes and examinations written by freshmen in the Uni- 
versity. Permission to publish is obtained for all full themes, 
including those published anonymously. Parts of themes, how- 
ever, are published at the discretion of the committee in charge. 

Members of the committee in charge of The Green Caldron 
are Phyllis Rice, Edward Levy, James Maclntyre, George 
Estey, and Carl Moon, Editor. 



>^ , ?% 7 — 3 (v.x'' r<:pe eJtfc^ t»i nM»^fc<= r-in^^ i"sSuc:i-f»r 

The Difference Between a Classical 
and a Pragmatic Education 

Jean Dewhirst 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 11 

The original aim of public education in America was to prepare the 
individual for responsible citizenship in a democratic society. Today that aim 
has been spHntered into two opposing factions. The classicist on one side 
claims that a general, well-rounded formal education is the most valuable be- 
cause it leads to the judgment and adaptation necessary to become an intelli- 
gent and responsible citizen in a democratic society. He describes practical 
education as being crass and mechanical. The pragmatic faction on the other 
side claims that it is the practical education which is most valuable because it 
leads to the technical knowledge and skill necessary to enable the citizen to 
grapple with the "real, down-to-earth" problems of life. The pragmatist de- 
cries liberal education as being impractical and useless. 

It would seem that the opposition between the classical and pragmatic 
camps is somewhat artificial, for both deny a necessary part of life. It's like 
trying to disconnect the mind from the body. One is helpless without the 
other. Who can imagine a mind, no matter how intelligent, without a body to 
accomplish its purposes, or a body working efficiently without a mind to guide 
it? It's impossible, for one requires and complements the other. In the same 
way, there can be no complete liberal education which is not practical and no 
complete practical education which is not liberal. Education should teach one 
not only to think clearly but also to act effectively. 

The classicist may point with pride to the brilliant Hellenic culture during 
the Age of Pericles and say, "This was the result of a humanistic, literary ed- 
ucation." The ancient Greek philosophers glorified the intellect to the extreme, 
while the body was regarded as unimportant for study, if it was thought about 
at all. Yet this was the age which produced the durable philosophies of Socra- 
tes, Plato, and Aristotle, the profound tragedies of Aeschylus, Euripides, and 
Sophocles, the timeless satire of Aristophanes, and the harmonious, balanced 
architecture which is still being emulated today. That it was an extremely 
brilliant culture, no one would deny. So the classicist may lean back and 
heartily pat himself on the back if he likes, but there are several reasons why 
such a one-sided education would not be successful today. 

First of all, Greece existed in a pre-mechanical age. War was fought with 
spears rather than atomic bombs. Secondly, the society of ancient Greece was 
oligarchic rather than democratic. Although it is true that Athens was striv- 
ing for a democratic government, the class system still prevailed and only a 

[1] 



2 The Green Caldron 

minority of the citizens had gained the franchise. Education was still for the 
leisure class rather than the entire society. While the Greek citizens were not 
lazy, as is commonly supposed, a good majority of them had slaves to work 
for them and it was simply not necessary for them to work if they didn't care 
to. Therefore, little emphasis was placed on acquiring skills. Furthermore, the 
Greeks had an altogether different attitude toward life than we have today. 
For example, such things as soap, watches, cotton cloth, and coffee did not 
then exist. They had no springs in their beds, no drains in their houses, and 
no variety in their diet. So the classicist may scoff at the factory worker, the 
sanitary engineer, and the lab technician if he likes, but I doubt if what he 
really wants is a return to the pre-mechanical or pre-technical age of the 
Greeks. 

As an example of pure technocracy in action, take a look at Germany prior 
to World War I. At that time Germany was producing more steel than any 
other European country and she was leading the world in the production of 
chemicals, aniline dyes, and electrical and scientific equipment. Economically, 
she was the envy of the world. Because Germany stressed the teaching of 
applied sciences in the school, she had an overflow of technicians who could be 
hired by German industrialists for very low wages. These men were great 
technicians, but inadequately liberal in their thinking. In fact, they conceived 
and spread some of the most tragic prejudices of our time. Many of them 
were nothing but mechanical robots working in blind obedience to The dictates 
of the state. It is true that Germany prior to this had developed a brilliant 
culture which was admired all over the world, but it was suppressed by a 
government bent on materialistic excellence. The majority of the German 
workers knew little of Bach, Goethe, or Schiller, but were disastrously respon- 
sive to new materialistic social philosophies. 

These examples are not intended to imply that theories of education de- 
termine the destiny of a culture, but to illustrate that they do affect it. While 
a purely classical education attained brilliant results in an ancient oligarchy 
where little emphasis was placed on materialistic gains, and a purely pragmatic 
education achieved technical and economic superiority in a militaristic autoc- 
racy where little thought was given to the welfare of the people, it seems 
apparent that neither kind of education could survive alone in a democracy 
which is based on the idea of wholeness. 

And in the final analysis, or in the light of what a particular theory has 
done in the past, what it has presei-ved for the present, and what it may ac- 
complish in the future, we should note that the pragmatic and classical theo- 
ries are complementary, not opposed. One prepares us for action, for doing 
things, and the other for doing things Avell, responsibly, and with good 
judgment. 



October, 1957 



Somebody Does Care 

Ronald W. Sadewater 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 7 

The tenderfoot hunters from the city followed amazed as their trusty guide 
directed them through the pathways and byways of the forest in search of 
game. By day and by night, his unerring sense of direction and location 
seemed infallible. This remarkable ability caused one of the hunters to inquire, 
"Say, have you ever been lost in your Ufe?" 

"Well, not exactly lost," came the reply, "but I was awfully confused for 
about a week once." 

This little anecdote illustrates the quandary facing the average college 
freshman as he starts his college career. The degree of bewilderment will vary 
with the individual, but the situation in itself is fairly universal. This condi- 
tion is brought about by the abrupt transition from the hum-drum of every- 
day life to the hurly-burly of the college campus during freshman week. All 
the roots of seventeen or eighteen years' growth are brutally yanked up and 
transported to an alien soil. Here the stripling must take root and become 
self-sustaining again. The job of thriving well in a new climate and environ- 
ment is the crux of the problem. Unless the student can adjust favorably in a 
comparatively short time, he may find that the inability to do so will be a major 
deterrent to his progress in the classroom and elsewhere. 

Certainly, it can be said that the first few weeks in school are hectic for the 
freshman. It cannot be otherwise when all the factors are considered. Along 
with the acquisition of a new home, come new friends and neighbors. These 
friends and neighbors bring about adjustments in behavior and attitudes as 
the processes of "getting along" and "belonging" begin. All sorts of tests are 
taken, until the freshman wishes he had never heard of an IBM card or a 
placement examination. When the tests are finished, the freshman is plunged 
into the registration maelstrom and whirled around for a day or two. If he is 
lucky, a weekend breather will follow this, before the beginning of classes 
and more woe. 

With the start of classes, the student must buckle down and apply himself 
immediately. Class schedules usually end up so arranged that the ten-minute 
break cannot be used in any manner except in running hither or yon. Stu- 
dents who want morning classes attend in the afternon; those desiring after- 
noon classes attend in the morning. The first day in class finds homework 
being assigned, even though books have not yet been purchased. This is no 
problem, however, for the bookstores are seldom crowded or out of stock. The 
assignment itself is given in a low tone of voice as the instructor noisily stuffs 



4. The Green Caldron 

his papers in a briefcase. Anyone who doesn't get the assignment is a rotten 

All of these things compounded together in the first few weeks make the 
university seem to be a cold and forbidding institution that has only one de- 
sire in mind, to discourage the meek and send them scurrying home disgusted, 
panicked, or dazed. 

At this point the phrase, "nobody cares," suggests itself to the student. 
With this attitude in mind, the freshman plods along day by day in a zombie- 
like existence, little caring what happens. He goes here and there at a given 
time because that is what his schedule says to do. Classes somehow come and 
go with the student little realizing what is going on or why. If this state 
continues, another student will be gone before the term is very old. 

Fortunately, however, at this point the transition usually begins to mani- 
fest itself. While sitting in a class one day, the words of the professor acci- 
dentally pierce the hard outer shell of the cranium and lodge in the soft core 
of the brain. One statement ignites a spark and causes the fledgling student 
to realize that the instructor knows his onions and, if this is true, that there 
might be something in college life after all. The neophyte begins to see things 
that were hidden for awhile under a cloak of homesickness or melancholy. He 
suddenly sees that people do care. His schoolmates care, although they are 
busy and have troubles of their own. They are not too busy, however, to lend 
a hand with a trig problem or a rhet theme that will not jell. Parents at home 
do care and didn't ship him ofif to be forgotten. By not running down to see 
their boy or girl every week, or not having them home, they are doing a great 
service to the student. They are removing a crutch that must be done without. 
Parents who assist their children too much perform a great disservice. 

Teachers and faculty do care, also, although not in the overindulgent man- 
ner of their school cousins. In high school the teacher led the way while the 
student followed. If a student lagged, a teacher would help him forward. Balky 
students were even pushed through. Here in college the student must lead 
or lag on his own. Instructors will not chase a student and wipe his nose for 
him. A sincere student in difficulty, however, can find help close at hand. A 
short session during a teacher's office hours has straightened out many a stu- 
dent. With a little effort on the student's part, college life can be profitable in 
both fun and education. The buildings that were cold and lonely become warm 
and friendly. Instructors that seemed to be of another breed turn out to be 
normal and understanding members of the human race. If the student is will- 
ing to carry his share, he need not fear. The way is hard, but the path has been 
blazed by thousands of others in the same situations. At times, the student may 
again become awfully confused, but at this point he should remember that 
people really do care. 



October, 1957 5 

Fathers Are Nice, But 
Mothers Are Smarter 

Donna Toika 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 10 

The day I was born, I automatically acquired a father. Although I wore 
pink bootees, he insisted on bringing me up on a basis of comradeship. Conse- 
quently, I could shoot a whisky bottle off a fence post at one hundred yards, 
and I took special pride in my ability to bait a fish-hook securely with a 
squirming worm. 

I don't know where my mother was during these formative years, but 
Daddy seemed to have a free hand with my education. My grade school days 
were spent in an ecstasy of egotism. I could outrun, outswear, outfight, out- 
climb, outswim, and outsmart any boy in the school. In the fourth grade I 
gave the playground bully a bloody nose, and in the sixth grade I threw a 
dead mouse I had smuggled into the room at a particularly fat, obnoxious male 
classmate. I was a flashy third baseman and the proud possessor of a delicious 
vocabulary, of words Daddy sometimes used, that was the envy of my stal- 
wart buddies. 

Disaster! High school. My stalwart buddies began sharing their bubble 
gum with a group of dull creatures who couldn't even throw a baseball. These 
young ladies began blossoming forth in ruffled petticoats, patent leather shoes, 
and fresh permanents. 

I was crushed. This crisis brought my mother to my rescue. Always un- 
derstanding, she steered me downtown and bought me a pair of nylon stock- 
ings and a tube of "Kissable" lipstick. The nylon stockings slithered down my 
skinny legs, and the lipstick was smeared from my nose to my chin, but I 
clung tenaciously to my new-found femininity. I knew that I must repair the 
damage wrought by my thoughtless father. So, I began running with my hips, 
turning up my nose at worms, and screaming at the sight of a mouse. I un- 
learned all my treasured skills of field and stream, buried my baseball mitt, 
and let my pet snakes out of their cages. I studied all the ways and wiles of 
the civilized predatory female and developed my personal charms. 

I thought my father would disown me, but after a few snorts and sneers, 
he accepted his ungrateful child. I have become proficient in the gentle arts 
of trickery and treachery. My two-fisted younger days seem forever lost. 
However, even now I sometimes find myself slipping from that marble pedes- 
tal. Just last week I was playing a game of chess with an admirer (the admi- 
ration is mutual). I lost my head and swept down the board in a crushing 
offense. With his ashen face as a clue, I realized my stupid mistake and man- 
aged rather cleverly, I thought, to maneuver my queen into a position to be 
taken. He thinks I'm terrific, so I lost the battle but won the war and now 
have a permanent chess partner. Fathers are nice, but mothers are smarter. 



6 The Green Caldron 

TaU Girl 

Joan McDiarmid 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 1 

I had just received my picture, taken of our class as a group. Like any 
normal second grader, I rushed home to show it to Mom, thrilled at the pros- 
pect of pointing out all my friends to her. One of our neighbors happened to 
be there when I arrived, and as we looked at the picture she said, "Oh, so 
this is Miss Baumgartner, your teacher !" My heart was broken. Mrs. Smith 
apologized, then left discreetly. But her words never left my mind. Because I 
towered over my classmates, she had mistaken me for the teacher. 

I lived in the same town all my life and attended school with the same 
group of children. From first grade through tenth, I was the tallest. It was 
for this reason that my teachers took a special interest in me. I loved school 
work and always received the highest marks, but I frequently used my study- 
ing as an excuse for not going out. In reality I was hiding behind my books, 
hoping that I would be invited to a party, but fearing that the unavoidable re- 
marks about my size would be made. 

When I was in the sixth grade I naturally began to take an interest in the 
opposite sex. This attraction only added to my misery, for I invariably got a 
"crush" on the shortest boy in the class. There was one fellow in particular 
whom I adored for three years. He had blue-gray eyes, brown curly hair, 
a beautiful complexion and a very muscular physique. But he was five foot 
two and I was five foot seven. All the girls teased me about this secret love 
of mine. I often heard the remark, "Why not pick on someone your own 
size?" 

The worst of all my anxieties came on Friday afternoons of my eighth year 
in school. My principal insisted that everyone had to attend dancing class. 
So at two o'clock all the girls gathered on one side of the classroom, giggling 
and fluttering around, and the boys sauntered over to the opposite side, talk- 
ing loudly to hide their terror at the prospect of dancing. I never flitted 
around anywhere, so I just sat in a corner, nervously waiting to be asked to 
dance. The music started and soon one of the braver boys crossed the floor 
and asked a girl the anxiously awaited question: "May I have this dance?" 
As soon as the ice was broken, the rest of the boys charged across the room 
like a herd of wild horses and clamored around the girls. Soon everyone was 
dancing ; but somehow, in the mad rush, I was left sitting alone. This was one 
of the most agonizing experiences in my childhood. Of course, as soon as the 
principal saw my dilemma, he either forced one of the fellows to dance with me, 
or he performed the duty himself. Then, as I was dancing, I always had the 
humiliating experience of looking down at my partner. 

I hid behind my books until I was a junior in high school. Then Mother 



October, 1957 7 

Nature set to work. One day I put my books down and discovered that 
everyone had grown five inches. I no longer looked down my nose at my 
classmates. I looked them straight in the eye and discovered that they weren't 
making fun of me. I was not a tall girl any more, just average. 



The Craziest Event of My Life 

S. Ward Hamilton, III 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 11 

THE ACTION AROUND MY HOUSE WAS THE LEAST WHEN 
I kicked off for the corner pool hall. Down at Side Pocket Sam's there 
was a little buzz on. The cats were in heated verbal airing over the 
crazy caper that Duke had just pulled. 

When I walked in, Sam, the head barkeep and owner, was about to give 
Duke the heave-ho for creating such a racket. 

It seemed that Duke had conned his way into a fast game of slop. He 
was just pocketing the money he had collected from the two cubical persons 
that he was playing when Sam broke up the game. Sam was one of the most 
respected boozes dishers on Twelfth Street, so Duke could only pick up his 
chips and bug his way to the street. 

It wasn't that Sam didn't like Duke, but the local arm had been putting 
the heat on. Sam later pitched me the word that the head boss had not been 
getting his weekly keep. Sam said, "The election is not far ofif and therefore 
all books, cards, and local action must douse the glimmer." 

As Duke and I made our way up the gutter he asked me for the news 
about my latest kicks. I laid it to him cold that I had been very frantic lately. 

We stopped in front of the corner drug-store and took in the latest sights. 
It was then that Duke brought from his pocket a brown leaf. He asked me 
whether I would like one. I tried to play it cool. Once again Duke oflfered 
the tube to me. This time I was afraid that if I didn't take it he would think 
me a chicken. 

This was the first time that I had ever been offered the hop. The most 
important event of my life was at hand. I had seen many people with monkeys 
on their backs, and this was usually always the first step. From the golden 
leaf they became users, first to snif, then to slow-ball horse, and finally 
main line. 

I gave Duke the wave. No, I wasn't going to fall into that dark, un- 
fathomed cave. 

Duke and I cut out and headed for the park. As we walked I hummed 
that new tune from the picture that was playing at the Orpheum, The Man 
with the Golden Arm. 



8 The Green Caldron 

Only Eight Seconds? 

Joseph E. Guderian 
Rhetoric 100, Theme 2 

I leaned against the board fence, looking at the ground, my hands stuck 
deep in my pockets. I listened with half interest to the occasional roar of the 
crowd and the blaring voice through the loud speaker. Soon it would be my 
turn and the crowd would be roaring for me and the blaring voice through the 
loud speaker would be talking about me. 

Then, there it was. Over the speaker came the words, "And out of chute 
four, riding Hell's Fire — ." I didn't listen to any more. I knew my time had 
come. 

I grabbed the top board of the fence and climbed up. I looked down into 
the chute, and there he stood, the meanest looking red horse a man would ever 
want to see. I carefully lowered myself onto the horse's back. He jumped a 
bit. He flattened his ears against his head and rolled his eyes backward to 
look at me. His eyes glowed like a thousand coals. It didn't take much of an 
imagination to see where he got his name. I slipped my gloved hand into the 
hand stirrup, pulled my Stetson down tight, and nodded to the man at the 
gate. 

The big gate swung open, and the horse was off like a shot. The battle 
between man and horse was on. 

The first leap carried us well into the arena. I swung my legs up and dug 
my spurs deep into the horse's shoulders. He lowered his head and arched his 
back. My spurs again found their mark, this time in his neck. His back 
straightened out, and he bucked to the right. I leaned into the buck. He sud- 
dently veered left and almost lost me. I gained my balance as the horse went 
down, almost touching his belly to the ground. Then, as if catapulted, he shot 
straight up and came down with a jarring thud. My hat flew off. Then I 
heard that blessed sound : the whistle blew and my time was up. I threw my 
left leg over the horse's head, removed my hand from the stirrup, and came 
sailing off the horse's back. 

I limped over, picked up my hat, and started walking back to the chutes. 

The First Clue 

Gail Dent 

Rhetoric 101, Theme 10 

Three long hours ago the sun had come up from the murky waters of Lake 
Michigan, but now it was nowhere in sight. As I walked down the lonely 
beach, all the world seemed to be in mourning; thick grey fog enveloped the 
earth like a shroud. 



October, 1957 9 

I knew it was just about this time the day before when the crash had 
occurred. We had been sitting in the kitchen, looking out over the lake, 
when we had noticed a plane hovering close to the surface of the water. Sud- 
denly, it had become a ball of fire and dropped silently into the lake. The 
next news broadcaast told the story of the mysterious crash of a jet from the 
nearby air base. It had been piloted by an experienced navy man, and there 
was no sign of him at the scene of the wreckage. 

Today I felt compelled to sit on the beach and stare out into the lake. 
Occasionally I heard the drone of a search plane flying blindly through the 
fog above. It seemed as though I had been sitting there for hours, listening 
to the dull slapping of the waves against the sand. My dog and a few sea gulls 
were the only other living creatures on the broad beach. 

Just as I grew restless and thought of going back to the house, a tiny orange 
speck caught my eye. It was bobbing on the waves about three hundred feet 
out and coming closer every minute. I had no idea what it could be, but I 
resigned myself to waiting patiently for it to float in. My dog, however, had 
no such control and plunged bravely into the frigid water to retrieve the fasci- 
nating object. After quite a struggle, he was bringing it back to shore. I'll 
never forget how disappointed I was when he dropped half of an old, beaten- 
up life jacket at my feet. Even though it seemed worthless to me, I decided 
to take it to the coast guard about a mile down the beach. I was embarrassed 
to bring them such an insignificant-looking object, but to my surprise it was 
taken to the captain immediately. He looked at the few remaining letters im- 
printed on its side and decided that the jacket had belonged to the missing pilot. 
He was now assumed dead, and the air search was called off. The coast guard 
took over my lonely watch on the beach, waiting for the body to float in. 



Toward Safer Sports Car Racing 

David Berman 
Rhetoric 102, Them^ 13 

Maserati, Bugatti, Mercedes-Benz, Jaguar — these names stir the hearts of 
thousands of people in many nations ; these are the names of the best of a 
select group of automobiles — sports cars. Sports car enthusiasts are legion ; 
they flock in droves to see the races at Le Mans, Lake Geneva, and the Mille 
Miglia, the most famous international sports-car events. The thrill, they say, 
of seeing a factory-assembled Jaguar skim over a dirt road at a hundred and 
fifty miles an hour is unmatched by any other sport. 

The beginnings of this sport lie in the very advent of the automobile at the 
turn of the century. As soon as two automobiles were placed on a single road, 
human behavior dictated that the better of the two must be determined. 
Through the years, sports cars have become more specialized (although they 



10 The Green Caldron 

Still come directly off the assembly line) until each steel-and-fire masterpiece 
is now capable of one hundred and twenty to one hundred and sixty miles an 
hour. 

Races between sports cars have grown increasingly popular, especially 
since the Second World War. These races serve a twofold purpose: enter- 
tainment and experimentation. The thrills and glamor of a race among top- 
quality sports cars are truly memorable. The Grand Prix is the Kentucky 
Derby, the Rose Bowl, and the World Series rolled into one, according to 
its most avid participants and spectators. But aside from entertainment, a 
definite need is fulfilled by these races : the need to give superior-quality equip- 
ment an opportunity to display its ability and power to the fullest extent. The 
best European automobile factories spend thousands of dollars each year on 
special racing teams to see what their products are able to perform. Their 
reward is the steadily-growing number of thirty-mile-an-hour businessmen 
who say, "My model Jag turned 148 at Le Mans." 

But this rosy picture of sports-car racing is marred by one fact that can- 
not be ignored : the sport is becoming dangerous to the point of murder. Re- 
cently, two catastrophes have prodded factories, racers, and fans into a little 
soul-searching. In June of 1955, eighty-two spectators were killed at Le Mans 
when a fiery mass of magnesium alloy which had once been the pride of the 
Daimler-Benz factory rolled into the crowd ; one hundred and five others were 
injured seriously. In May of 1957, at least twelve spectators were killed in 
Italy's Mille Miglia race, "long attacked by the Itahan press as 'collective 
homicide'. . ."* 

A serious problem lies before the automobile factories and the nations 
(presently including the United States) which permit sports-car racing: should 
this deadly sport be abolished? The answer should be a highly qualified but 
emphatic no. Certainly there have been massacres in the past at sports-car 
events ; moreover, there will be more in the future — unless the entire racing 
setup is overhauled. 

The first part of this overhaul should be stricter control over the spectators. 
Too many spectators now are allowed to crowd dangerously close to the road- 
way ; the two disasters above can be attributed mainly to this cause. Secondly, 
a better method of signalling drivers than the present hand waving should be 
installed at the major races; this might have prevented the pile-up of cars at 
Le Mans that precipitated the 1955 catastrophe there. Lastly, the roads used 
for these races, notoriously abominable in condition, should be inspected more 
closely and improved in many cases. 

Granted, sports-car racing is dangerous. But with the improvements out- 
lined above, the sport can retain its thrills and glamor without driving itself 
to destruction — as it certainly is doing now. 



♦"Deadly Blowout," Ncwnveek, XLIX (May 20, 1957), 100. 



October, 1957 11; 

The Moscow Mother Goose 

John B, Means 

Rhetoric 101, Theme 7 
(How the typical Communist would explain the story of Little Red Riding Hood) 

The freedom-loving Soviet Government of the U.S.S.R. has carefully 
considered the invitation to attend a meeting to arrange a peaceful settlement 
of all disagreements between the Big Bad Wolf and Little Red Riding Hood, 
Grandmother & Company. The invitation is rejected. The Soviet Union 
could not consider attending a meeting at which the Big Bad Wolf was not 
present as a neutral. 

The proposition that the Big Bad Wolf was the aggressor is completely 
false. Such capitalistic propaganda cannot be tolerated by this nation. All 
fair-minded and free-thinking people are aware of the fact that Grandma was 
the imperialistic aggressor, that she was the capitalistic master-mind of a 
conspiracy for the economic exclusion of the neutral Big Bad Wolf from the 
free markets of the world as well as from her domestic market. 

Little Red Riding Hood's arrival at the cottage was obviously a planned 
interference. The warmongers who schemed in this manner were planning to 
do injustice to the Big Bad Wolf, and therefore were foes of true democracy. 
It is the opinion of the Supreme Soviet that Little Red Riding Hood had no 
legitimate excuse for being at Grandma's house so shortly after the arrival of 
Big Bad Wolf. 

The charge made by the West that Grandma had been exterminated by 
the wolf cannot be accepted as fact. It is obvious that Grandma simply dis- 
appeared. However, it is the opinion of the Premier of Russia that the blame 
for Grandma's disappearance lies upon the head of Anthony Eden, for it 
has been known by Soviet Intelligence for some time that Grandma was con- 
spiring with the Western warmongers in an effort to obliterate the Big Bad 
Wolf, Snow White's Wicked Stepmother, Cinderella's Stepsisters, the Dragon, 
and other world-renowned supporters of free democracy. 

As evidence to support this preposterous claim of Grandma's destruction at 
Wolf's hands, the allegation has been made that the Big Bad Wolf was seen 
wearing nightclothes supposedly belonging to Grandma. This charge was 
leveled against the Big Bad Wolf by Red Riding Hood, who is most certainly 
not an impartial observer. This accusation is obviously a frenzied, last-minute 
attempt of the Wall Street capitalists to bring dishonor to the name of the Big 
Bad Wolf. Even on the assumption that this accusation should be true, Grand- 
ma's disappearance cannot be wholly accounted for. If an individual wishes 
to put in an appearance dressed in a nightgown, it is certainly his privilege to 
do so, and we intend to protect that sovereign right. 

Viewing these recent happenings in retrospect, the Soviet Union wishes 



12 The Green Caldron 

to controvert the imperialistic propaganda that the Big Bad Wolf was the 
initial aggressor. History bears ample proof that the Big Bad Wolf has never 
been belligerent. In fact, he is an enthusiastic supporter of world-wide peace 
and disarmament. It would be well for all people's democracies to keep this 
fact clearly in mind. 



The Real Meaning of College 

Sayre D. Andersen 
Placement Test Theme 

The contemporary college has come to have a great variety of meanings to 
its students. With the advent of a greater and greater number of college fresh- 
men each year has come a host of misconceptions about higher education. Un- 
important aspects of college life have succeeded in replacing education as the 
prime purpose of a university. One of these aspects is social life. To minimize 
the importance of social activities in college life is wrong; to stress them in a 
manner disproportionate to their actual worth is a far greater wrong. It is 
not uncommon today to go to college to get a social education. In some fra- 
ternities and sororities, scholarship takes a back seat to activities and dating. 
The latter, in general, has been elevated to a height of prominence far above 
its actual worth. To many students, college has become a place to find a hus- 
band or wife. 

What, then, does college really mean? Having been derived from the 
Latin words cum and lego, the word college actually means a "reading to- 
gether" or a "studying together." This is part of the real meaning of college — 
scholarship. It is by far the most important part. In previous generations this 
fact was honored and respected, and only those who were good scholars could 
ever hope to go to college. Today a higher education can be had by the 
majority of the people, but the standards of colleges have fallen. It is up to 
us to raise them back to their previous position by stressing the importance of 
scholarship in the student's life. 

The final portion of the real meaning of college is an intangible which I 
shall call opportunity. College is composed of many different opportunities : 
to meet people, to learn to live with others, but most important, to get an edu- 
cation. In my opinion, these all boil down and resolve themselves into one: 
the opportunity to prove oneself by oneself. No longer under the wings of 
his parents, a college student must prove his merits solely by his own personal- 
ity and ability. 

The true meaning of college then, is scholarship and opportunity. It is my 
desire to make the best of both. 



October, 1957 13 

Swan Song 

William L. Magnuson 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 8 

One of the most unforgettable experiences of my life occurred in the sum- 
mer of 1955 while I was in the navy, I had been sent to a weather station on 
a small two-square-mile speck of land in the Caribbean Sea which carried the 
name of Swan Island. 

My job was to tend the microseismograph equipment and send coded re- 
ports to the main station in Miami. This consumed only a small part of the 
day ; consequently, I had the difficult job of deciding whether to skin-dive, fish, 
or read a book while basking in the sun — there was always a cooling sea breeze 
to alleviate the hot temperature of the tropics. 

Here was a paradise of my own which equalled any I had ever read about. 
A paradise, that is, until "Janet" entered our lives. One day she came swirl- 
ing out of the mid-Atlantic, never curving to the north, as is the trend of most 
storms, and a day later she was half-way across the Caribbean. This was her 
position when a P2V Neptune weather plane with nine crewmen and two 
reporters (along for a story) began penetration of the "eye" at 1500 feet to 
collect weather data. The last message received from the plane read, "Velocity 
estimated 200 knots. Beginning penetration." The eleven men and the plane 
were never seen again. 

The tension began to mount on our little island as the "killer" headed di- 
rectly toward Swan Island. We knew there would be no escape for us, since 
there was no landing strip for planes on the island and no ship would venture 
into hurricane waters. We could only sit tight and pray that the storm would 
turn. 

But turn it did not, and at 0700 hours on September 15 we saw the first 
advances of the storm's cloud formation and felt an increase in wind velocity. 
At 1000 hours rain began to fall and the wind was from the north at fifty 
knots. The palm trees were bending almost to the ground. The director of 
the island decided we should all take refuge in the micro vault. 

At 1100 hours, from our closed retreat, we heard the giant twin radio 
towers crash to the ground after being knocked from their foundations by 
the 100-knot wind which was now blowing. 

The full fury of the storm struck at 1200 hours. We could only estimate 
the wind velocity to be in excess of 200 knots, for our wind measuring instru- 
ments record only to 150 knots. The day was turned into complete darkness by 
the layers of clouds and torrents of rain. The windows of the vault were blown 
in, and in came the driving rain. Our concrete building began to tremble from 
the great buffeting. No one spoke in those windy, dark, damp, fearful 
moments. 



14 The Green Caldron 

Suddenly the rain ceased and the wind died to a relatively mild 50 knots. 
The sky brightened and we could even see patches of blue. We knew we were 
in the center of the storm. It was passing dirctly over us and we were in the 
"eye." This was only a false calm before the final half of the storm roared 
over us. 

This half hit the island in the opposite order of weather. By 1500 hours 
the wind had slowed enough to allow us to leave our shelter, which we found 
to be the only structure left standing. Every tree on the island, fifteen thou- 
sand palms, had been beaten to the ground and stripped of leaves. The farm 
animals, six cows and fifty chickens, had been washed into the sea. 

The following day a navy plane flew over and dropped medical and food 
supplies and a message which told of a boat being sent from Key West to pick 
us up and return us to the United States. 

The boat did not arrive for two days. We spent every daylight hour sal- 
vaging all items of value and personal importance. No paradise now ! There 
was only destruction to meet the eye : the crumpled steel radio towers, wooden 
debris that had once been houses, schools of fish and other sea-life washed 
ashore and rotting in the humid air. We could find relief from the stench no- 
where, for it penetrated even to the middle of the island. 

Despite our search, there were few possessions carried with us on the 
homeward journey. However, it was a very thankful group that sailed away 
from Swan Island. 



"Literature is printed nonsense " 

Strindberg 

Frances Aulisi 
Rhetoric 102, Final Theme 

Assuming that Mr. Strindberg implied that "literature" consists solely of 
poetry and fiction, I can agree with his sentiment, to a degree. A great deal 
of literature is nonsensical, largely for two primary reasons — either the author 
loves to release his emotions through writing, or he has a flair for writing and 
he needs money. 

If he writes for his own satisfaction, the majority of people cannot deci- 
pher his style. Modern poets fall into this pitfall when they compose abstract 
works which contain lines such as "Stinging sky and my heart swallows it." 
I understand this line (written by me). Do others? To me it symbolizes 
utter disappointment, and some of my dejection was released when I laid my 
hurt open instead of suppressing the welling of self-pity which I felt. However, 
others are probably left cold by my private bonfire of feeling. 



October, 1957 15 

If the author writes for money, he often produces work with stereotyped 
commercial appeal. The novel such as Forever Amber, which contains pas- 
sionate love scenes in every other chapter, serves as a good example. 

Other literature may also be sheer printed nonsense — but, oh, what won- 
derful nonsense! This nonsense offers a release from life and a chance for 
vicarious romance and adventure. Lewis Carroll wrote some of the most 
nonsensical nonsense, and it actually seems more substantial than life. 

*Twas brillig, and the slithy toves 
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe ; 
All mimsy were the borogroves. 
And the mome rathe outgrabe . . . 

This excerpt from "Jabberwocky" brims with mystery, excitement, and truth. 
I can picture a weird swamp scene, an atmosphere tense with anticipation for 
the coming of the fabulous "J^bberwock," whose "vorpel blade" goes "snicker- 
snack." Again, in Alice in Wonderland the unrealistically realistic Mad Hat- 
ter, who insists that "unbirthdays" are better than birthdays because they 
occur 364 days each year, appears quite logical. 

"The Great Lover," by Rupert Brooke, takes the commonplace parts of 
living and transforms them into bright discovery for the reader. "These 
things I've known and loved . . . white plates and cups clean-gleaming . . . 
wild smell of hair . . . rough male kiss of blankets . , . raindrops couching 
in cool flowers . . . and flowers themselves that sway through sunny hours 
. . . strong crust of friendly bread . . . wet roofs beneath the lamplight." 
Sometimes we little hurried people get so caught up in the rush of living that 
our eyes never revel in our dishes' whiteness, and our senses never enjoy the 
caress of a blanket or the resistance of bread crust. There are numerous other 
small adventures of life which I myself have come to perceive and enjoy 
because I had my senses reawakened by Brooke's "nonsense." 

In the impact of the well-written novel lies enough powerful drama to jolt 
whole sections of the world to attention. Uncle Tom's Cabin, by Harriet 
Beecher Stowe, has been cited by some historians as a vital source of agitation 
in the organization of an abolitionist movement against slavery in the South. 
She delineated her characters in a style that evoked sympathetic feelings for 
slaves, and hatred for all slave-owners no matter how solicitous or lenient 
they might have been toward their slaves. 

Literature has as much place in life as any other form of writing. It is 
as vital as the newspaper because it enlarges on events which are reported in 
the newspaper. It is as vital as exposition because it often furthers the causes 
which expository articles support. It is as vital as life itself because without 
the emotional experiences which literature offers, life would often be nonsense. 



16 The Green Caldron 

A Vision 

Wolfgang Schulz 

KJtctoric 102, Theme 10 

At last the great powers of the world made peace and agreed to end the 
armament race. They decided to destroy all atomic weapons, their production 
centers, and all data and information about the development of nuclear wea- 
pons. 

Up to that moment, a huge amount of radioactive material waste had been 
accumulated and was to be more than doubled by the destroyed arms and 
machinery. Some measure had to be found to rid the nations of this material 
which would radiate for thousands of years and be a creeping death to all liv- 
ing beings. Four different locations in bare mountain regions or deserts, far 
from human habitation, were chosen as atomic burial grounds : the Swiss Alps, 
and the deserts in Australia, Siberia, and the United States. 

In geographical maps, these locations were indicated as white spots. Noth- 
ing could better characterize these moon-dead areas. No plant or animal lived 
there, no fountain or river existed that could bring water infected with radio- 
activity out of these "hot" regions. Airplanes avoided flying over these terri- 
tories. True, windstorms sometimes swept over the sands and carried clouds 
of deadly dust even as far as to human settlements ; but most of the time they 
subsided before they could do substantial damage. The radioactive metal parts 
and fluids were stored in concrete buildings or underground tanks. Roasting 
in the sun were the bones of their builders — mostly criminals who had been 
forced to do the building — like the bones of pirates accessory to a hidden 
treasure. 

The men who died in the deserts became heroes, saints, saviors of man- 
kind. Although in the early stage of planning many scientists and statesmen 
bitterly opposed the project which meant to them the destruction of man's most 
promising invention, later generations praised it as mankind's greatest achieve- 
ment. An immense danger had been averted, an incomprehensible evil had 
been destroyed. 

Very soon philosophical and religious movements, favored by the uncer- 
tain and hazy conceptions that existed about the nature of atomic fission and 
radiation, speculated, with the joy and enthusiasm to be expected of people who 
felt relieved from the constant threat of atomic war. They declared that the 
change of matter to energy was the ultimate step of man's sin, inherited from 
Adam and Eve in Paradise and steadily deepened. But at the moment of man's 
final aversion from his creator, he came back as the repentant child to his 
father. The atomic burial grounds were monuments to his self-denial and 
humility. The eternal curse was nullified. God accepted His child and gave 



October, 1957 17 

him, with the almost eternal radiation of the atomic material, an inexhaustible 
fountain of forgiveness which would wash away all future sin and crime. The 
Roman Catholic Church, an all-important institution then, very soon recog- 
nized its advantage in becoming the administrator of the divine forgiveness, 
thus ridding itself of the constant search for new relics and saints, or from 
the task of restoring its surplus of forgiveness. And it gave with full hands. 
Some groups of people tried to make practical use of the radioactive terri- 
tories : the suicides who wanted to parachute from planes, the people who 
wanted to expose criminals there, the religious fanatics who saw going through 
the radiation as a sure way of gaining God's special favor. But these were 
minor groups ; besides, any attempt to realize one of these ideas was hindered 
by protective devices, by which any object penetrating a "hot" zone was 
tracked down. 

After many, many years, an event happened that seemed impossible : the 
earth shook, and in great explosions all four regions burst open simultaneously ; 
then, like roaring fire, the deadly materials spread in the form of dust storms 
or of rain and seawater, over the globe, killing everything. 

Prophets raised voices which had been silent for centuries and said: "Sin 
cannot be forgiven, it can only be avenged. It may be buried and sleep a long 
time, but it will come to life again and seek for its creators." Their words — the 
truth — remained unheard. 



Son of Man 

Joanne E. Ruck 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 4 

O son of man, the ignorant night, the travail 
Of early morning, the mystery of beginning, 
Again and again, 

while History is unforgiven. 

"In the Naked Bed, In Plato's Cave" 
by Delmore Schwartz 

Cannery Row is the beginning of life and the end ; it is virtue and sin ; it is 
knowledge and ignorance ; it is a mirror in which John Steinbeck shows the 
proud world its reflection. Cannery Row is "the gathered wood, chipped pave- 
ment and weedy lots, junk heaps, sardine canneries of corrugated iron, honky 
tonks, restaurants . . . little crowded groceries, laboratories, and flophouses." 
Armed with only a pen, Steinbeck has painted a world which is beautiful and 
shabby at the same time. 

Cannery Row is peopled with unforgettable characters like Lee Chong, 
the Chinese grocer who spoke a stately English without ever using the letter 



18 The Green Caldron 

R ; and Dora, the great big woman with flaming orange hair and a penchant for 
bright green evening dresses, who kept an honest one-priced house, sold no 
hard Hquor, and permitted no loud or vulgar talk in her house. There is Doc 
. . . Doc, who owned and operated Western Biological Laboratory ; Doc, 
whose face was half Christ and half Satyr and whose face told the truth. He 
could kill anything for need but could not even hurt feelings for pleasure. 

Cannery Row is not a story. Rather, it is a lot of little stories about a lot 
of little people who become so big that they stand out in the mind long after 
the final page of the book has been read. 

Steinbeck has taken Man and divided him into a group of virtues and vices. 
There is Mack, who by ordinary standards might be compared to any Skid 
Row bum but who has found the one thing most men search for all their lives 
and seldom find — peace of mind. Mack turned an abandoned warehouse into 
the Palace Flophouse, where he surrounded himself with a fraternity of philos- 
opher-vagrants. Mack and his boys never moved a muscle when a parade 
passed by Cannery Row ; they had seen many parades in their lives and they 
knew what parades were all about. Instead, Mack liked to sit outside the Palace 
and watch a sunset, fortifying himself now and then with a bottle of Old Tennis 
Shoes, the three-month-old whisky which Lee Chong kept in his grocery store. 

One becomes haunted by Hazel, the youngest of Mack's boys. Hazel was 
a very short step removed from idiocy. He asked questions all the time, not 
because he wanted to know the answers, but because he loved to hear other 
people talking. He was utterly miserable whenever there was a lag in the con- 
versation and would search frantically for some topic about which to inquire. 

There is Gay, who alternated between a life of fistfights with his espoused 
and periods of peace and quiet at the Palace Flophouse. Gay could have made 
a fortune as a mechanic ; he had a way with machines and could fix anything 
in an amazingly short time. 

Steinbeck has written a book about these people. There is no plot, for the 
novel is essentially a character study, a study of Man stripped of any fagade 
which might imperil the investigation of his soul and his mind. 

To some people Cannery Row was an ugly place, dirty and depressing. 
Doc thought it was beautiful. He understood the intricate mechanism which 
made the street throb with life. He understood its people ; to him they did not 
represent evil and degeneracy ; they were Man. Doc knew that Man was both 
Angel and Devil. 

Steinbeck prefaced his novel with a reassuring note about fictions and fab- 
rications ; the people and places in his book are, of course, non-existent. But 
one cannot help feeling, Avhen the last paragraph has been read, and perhaps 
reread, that Cannery Row is as real as Chicago's State Street. Cannery Row 
is any street anywhere Man lives and breathes, loves and hates, and tries to 
learn of that inexplicable force which directs his life. 



October, 1957 19 

The Love of Life 

Norman Mysliwies 

Rhetoric 102, Theme 10 

The love of life is at bottom the jear of death 

— Schopenhauer 

Man prides himself on his love of life. The theme has been used again 
and again throughout history. It has been expressed in tales, poems, drama, 
and in art. So much has it been repeated that we now accept, as a fact, that 
it is natural and even ennobling to possess this great appreciation of Hife. 

Underlying this love of life, however, is a fear of death, probably the most 
basic fear inherent in man. Hazlitt said, "No young man ever thinks he will 
die." Perhaps not consciously, but deep wnthin him, from the time that he is 
able to understand what life is, this fear lurks. 

In every way possible, man has tried to fight this fear of death. Religion, 
probably one of the strongest institutions invented by man, is, for the most 
part, an attempt to assuage the fear of death. Every form of religion invented 
has promised its followers a life after death — immortality. Even the thought 
that he will spend eternity in hell seemes to be more comforting to man than 
the idea of ceasing to exist. In fact, we find it quite impossible to conceive of 
ourselves as no longer existing. It is completely beyond our mental powers. 

The rationalization of the death-fear by love of life is probably not con- 
scious. When we are enraptured by the sensual pleasures of the world, we 
may want to sing, to shout our joy to the world, or to write odes to nature's 
beauty. But much of the ecstasy results from the knowledge that a time will 
come when we will no longer enjoy life's pleasures. Death is a puzzle. Will 
there be pleasures after? Perhaps. But the time to enjoy them is now, while 
we are sure of them. Truly, "The love of life is at bottom the fear of death." 



Good Lord 

Eugene Bryerton 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 6 

Motion pictures have finally come of age. Until a few years ago, Holly- 
wood was strictly commercial, dealing only in westerns, murder mysteries, 
romances, and science-fiction. With the innovation of Cinemascope and The 
Robe in 1953, however, the motion picture magnates realized that the public 
was interested in films with religious themes. When The Robe smashed 
all previous box-of^fice records, Hollywood moguls decided that they were 



■20 The Green Caldron 

through with commercial pictures and would now deal in the religious edu- 
cation of the masses. They have truly stuck to their guns, for since then no 
fewer than nine or ten motion pictures with strictly religious themes have 
been released to the public. 

The Robe, however, is not really a true representation of this "new spirit," 
since it wastes too much time on unimportant, boring things, such as the cruci- 
fixion of Christ. On the other hand, Demetrius aitd the Gladiators, the sequel 
to The Robe, has mammoth sets, a cast of thousands, and many bloody arena 
scenes which put the necessary "zing" into the story. 

Since such a successful picture was made concerning Christ's robe, other 
studios began to ask themselves, why not one about the cup from which He 
drank at the last supper? Knowing that this was a blank spot in every person's 
religious education, Warner Brothers decided to fill the gap with their Silver 
Chalice. While they were about it, they decided to place the Tower of Babel in 
its correct chronological position (during the time of Nero Caesar), and had 
Jack Palance jump from the top of it to prove that good will triumph over evil 
every time. Although the cup itself happens to get lost during the first hour of 
the film, the movie-goers spend a very enjoyable three hours viewing the ex- 
cesses of Nero's court, thrilling hand-to-hand combats, and a tempestuous love 
affair. 

Seeing by the box-office receipts that the public was still interested in re- 
ligion, Hollywood proceeded to educate them further by the release of The 
Prodigal. Based on a few short Bible verses referring to the prodigal son, this 
two-and-one-half-hour film relates, in detail, not only his departure and return 
home, but also goes into greater detail on just hozv he squandered his half of 
his father's estate. It seems he runs into a heathen princess (played exquisitely 
by Lana Turner), and after a heated affair with this foreign beauty, he re- 
nounces her and goes back to his father. 

Not to be outdone in the enlightenment of the masses, Paramount brought 
out Samson and Delilah. This too is a Bible story, in which Victor Mature 
has his locks and his strength shorn from him by Hedy Lamarr. Delilah, as 
you well know from the Bible and the famous opera, later falls in love with 
Samson and eventually he forgives her. They are locked in each other's em- 
brace as the walls of the heathenish temple of Dagon fall, crushing everj^thing 
and everybody. 

No list of true-to-life, authenticated religious films would be complete, of 
course, without mention of Columbia's Salome. Great emphasis is placed upon 
the fact that she was forced to dance before King Herod, and great emphasis 
is Hkewise placed upon Rita Hayworth's interpretation of the "dance of the 
seven veils." This dance adds the final religious touch to the picture, and the 
entire theater audience works itself into a religious frenzy because of it. Un- 
fortunately, poor Salome never does get to finish her dance, for when the head 
of Saint John is brought in on a silver platter, she faints dead away. Simple, 



October, 1957 21 

homespun girl that she is, Salome later marries a Roman soldier and settles 
down into a model Christian way of life. 

These pictures are by no means the only ones that have been released. Many 
others are now in circulation, and many more are being planned. Hollywood is 
indeed to be congratulated on the tasteful way it handles these films, the sensi- 
tive actors that are used in the portrayals, and above all, the admirable way in 
which it avoids all temptations to swerve from the stories as originally pre- 
sented in that greatest of all script-books, the Bible. 

Where I Would Like to Be Now 

Phillip A. Weibler 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 7 

Where would I like to be now ? If I had a choice, I think I should return 
to Stotesbury, West Virgina. I have two reasons for this choice. First, I 
like the people there and their way of life. Second, I think it is a very beauti- 
ful country, especially in the late fall. 

Stotesbury is an unincorporated town of about five hundred population, lo- 
cated in the heart of West Virginia's coal mining area. The shallow Gulf Creek 
flows over a silken black bed of coal dust, and the narrow valley floor which 
it has carved out of the mountains is monopolized by two high-capacity rail- 
road branch lines. The mine head, three-quarters of the way up the mountain- 
side, dominates the landscape, and indeed the livelihood of the people in the 
valley. The black bulk of the tipple springs away from the hillside and reaches 
halfway across the valley floor. These are the elements that have dominated 
the life in Stotesbury for years in the past, and that will continue to do so in 
the future. 

The people realize this, and they go about their daily work quietly and 
skillfully, with a firm conviction that their mission in life is to keep the coal 
flowing out along the Gulf Branch. I only wish that I could be so sure of my 
mission in life. To a man they are proud of their work and the part they play 
in the mining industry. 

The simplest way to describe the beautiful country surrounding Stotesbury 
is to say that it is vertical. The scenery climbs up one side of the mountain 
and down the other and spends very little time on a horizontal ])lane. In late 
fall, trees march up the side of the mountain with bare limbs linked. Along 
the winding road at the top of the mountain, where sunshine is much more 
plentiful, the trees are still resplendent in bright reds, yellows, and browns. 
Yet deep in the valley, winter has already made its inroads, and frost sparkles 
on the immense masses of mine trailings and on the rails that carry Stotes- 
bury 's coal to the outside world. 

Maybe some day I will have my chance to return to this little town. I 
hope so. 



22 The Green Caldron 

Where the City Ends 

Frederick R. Wells 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 8 

Tokyo is a sprawling, noisy, dirty city with all the rush and commotion 
of our Chicago or New York. Its seven million people have accepted this way 
of life, but only to a limited degree. The Japanese philosophy and way of life, 
in their traditional forms, leave little room for such nerve-jangling hustle and 
bustle. There is nothing they can do about the business district's character 
being so out of tune with the people's, but they can and do draw a line at their 
doorsteps. 

The Japanese people love beauty, and along with this comes a love of 
quietude as well. This facet of the oriental philosophy is reflected in their 
homes. As you approach an average residence, usually along a narrow, poorly 
paved and cluttered street, you can hardly discern it from all the others. They 
all look much the same : you can only see a high, unpainted fence, usually par- 
tially covered with vines, with a small door, so small that even the short 
Japanese who lives there must stoop to enter. Unless you live in the neighbor- 
hood, or you know someone there, these fences and small doors leave you with 
a lonesome, left-out feeling. But here is a friend's house. Shall we enter? 

You open the door, crouch low so that you may enter, and realize when 
you stand up that this gate is where the city ends. In spite of the noise and 
dirt of the street, there is here a soothing quiet, a peace that makes you forget 
your troubles and want to relax on the cool grass by the willow tree near the 
house. 

The yard is small. It is occupied mostly by a rock garden and a goldfish 
pond, both masterfully designed and placed to give the utmost esthetic pleasure 
and also to give the illusion of more space than there really is within the 
fenced area. The grass is a rich green, and there is a path leading to the small 
house. 

The house, like the fence, is unpainted. The reason for this is the Japanese 
feeling that paint, unless kept up, will mar the beauty of their homes. Then too, 
the natural wood, darkened by constant exposure to the weather, blends into 
the surrounding area so that it seems to be a part of the natural beauty 
there. 

To enter the house, there is a sliding door with large panes of rice paper, 
which we push aside. Immediately in front of us there is a vestibule where we 
take off our shoes and exchange them for zoriis, a sort of slipper. A few steps 
up and we are in the house itself. There is one room, and one piece of furniture. 
The floors are covered with large, rectangular mats of straw, called tatamis, 
and in the middle of the room is one low, round table with several cushions 
spread around it. 



October, 1957 23 

The uncluttered room, the quiet garden, the simplicity of life, all blend to 
give a wonderful relaxation hard to find in any modern city. The peace of 
home and garden truly makes that small door in the high fence the place 
where the city ends. 

Cayucas I Have Known 

William C. Willoughby 
Rhetoric 102, Reference Paper 

I was practically reared with a cayuca paddle in one hand and a machete 
in the other. I have my machete hanging on the wall at home, but I seem to 
have lost my cayuca paddle. It's a shame, too, because the happiest hours of 
my boyhood were spent in sailing and rowing my small cayuca on the lakes 
and rivers of the Panama Canal Zone. 

A cayuca is a form of dugout canoe hollowed from a single log.-^ Though 
dugouts are found in all parts of the Americas," the true cayuca is native to 
tropical Central America, where mahogany and cypress logs of sufficient size 
and quantity are available. 

The pirogue, found in the southern United States, is made of roughhewn 
planks and is not a true dugout.^ Pirogues are usually supposed to be an in- 
vention of the French Arcadians. In reality, they are copies of a craft made 
by the Indians of the lower Mississippi Valley.^ In northern South America 
we find the "duck billed" and "u-bow" uba in the Amazon regions^ and the 
sailing canoa along the northern coast.*^ But these craft often have built-up 
gunwales and bows. The piragua (from which the word "pirogue" is derived) 
is found in British Guiana and the Antilles, and is a dugout made from a log 
which has been completely hollowed and the open ends then plugged with 
shaped wooden pieces.''^ 

A cayuca, though, is always made entirely from one log. It usually varies 
in length from twelve to thirty feet, although I have seen crude chicas or 
child's cayucas only eight feet in length. Sailing dugouts are sometimes fifty 
feet or more long.^ To the person who is used to canoes and rowboats, the 
cayuca seems unusually narrow. Cayucas are usually from twenty-four to 
thirty-six inches in breadth, and from twelve to thirty inches in depth. 

Cayucas are made from both the hardwood and softwood trees of the jun- 
gle. The hardwoods make a stronger and longer-lasting dugout, but they are 
difficult to shape and hollow. The softwoods, the most common of which is 
balsa, are easy to work, but the cayuca will often become waterlogged and 
sink within a matter of months.^ The majority of cayucas are made from 
mahogany, a semi-hard wood. Central American mahogany is not as fine- 
grained nor as durable as Philippine mahogany, but it is easily worked, has 
good weathering properties, and will not become water-logged. 

In selecting a tree from which to construct his dugout, the native boat- 



24 The Green Caldron 

builder searches the jungle until he finds the trunk he wants. He marks the 
tree for cutting, and returns to his bohio^^ for cutting tools. Giant mahogany 
trees, four feet across, are cut down by machete. Axes and saws are available, 
but are almost impossible to re-sharpen in the jungle. Often the builder's en- 
tire family will make camp around the tree while it is being felled. -^^ 

After felling and trimming, help is obtained from other boat makers and 
their families. The log is moved to the site selected for the building of the cay- 
uca. This place must have a plentiful supply of both water and dry wood. Us- 
ually a stream or river is selected, though a jungle spring will serve the pur- 
pose. When the building site is reached, a new bohio is built, and the entire 
family settles down for what may be a week-long task.^^ 

The trunk is first marked ofif for the outside shaping of the hull. This is 
accomplished by machete, hatchet, adze, and wedges. No plan or blueprint is 
used, and only the artistry of the workman determines the final hull shape.^^ 
Typical cayucas have pointed and upswept bow and stern, with considerable 
sheer. The sides are rounded, with the widest portion about amidships. The 
bottom is flat, with no keel, unless the craft is to be used for sailing.^'* If the 
cayuca is to be powered by an outboard motor, the stern is made square, with 
no sheer, and a hardwood transom is added. The hollowing out is begun only 
after the outer hull is completed.^^ 

The hull is usually hollowed with adzes and axes. Fire was used by more 
primitive man, but steel tools have largely replaced this method. ^^ To keep 
from cutting the sides too thin, holes are drilled along both sides and bottom. 
The bottom holes are drilled about two inches deep, and the side holes about 
one inch deep. These holes are plugged with wood different from the hull. The 
builder then uses these plugs as gauges, and hollows out the hull until the 
plugs are reached. ^'^ Calipers and templates are also used to gauge hull thick- 
ness. 

The inside has a flat bottom with rounded sides, and smoothly sloped ends. 
The sloped ends are marvels in design, for they allow a swamped cayuca to 
be emptied of water by one man, who goes over the side and pushes the cayuca 
back and forth, the momentum of the craft causing the water to splash over 
the ends. A skillful paddler can do this while sitting in the cayuca. 

Often, after being hollowed, the cayuca is considered finished. But the cay- 
uca may now be given added beam and greater stabihty by "spreading."^^ In 
spreading, the cayuca is filled with water and the water is heated to the boiling 
point by hot stones. This is the reason for the supply of water and dry wood. 
The hot water softens the wood, and the sides are pushed apart by wooden 
thwarts and wedges.^^ By spreading, a cayuca with a thirty-inch beam can 
be made from a log only twenty-four inches in diameter. After drying, the 
wood will keep its shape and the thwarts can be removed, though they are 
often left in for seats. 

The carving and decoration of a dugout seem to vary inversely with the 
availability of good trees. The Indians of southern Alaska, who have few good 



October, 1957 25 

logs, make elaborately carved and decorated canoes. ^'^ But little or no decor- 
ation is wasted on the cayucas of Central America. If any decorating at all is 
done, the designs are painted on. Blue, yellow, and black are the favorite 
colors. 

Mr. William Quinn, who now lives in Urbana, Illinois, is a well-known 
lecturer on Central and South America. He showed me colored slides of 
cayucas in the Panamanian province of Darien, decorated with red-lead hulls, 
black interiors and yellow zinc chromate trim. All of the paints were probably 
stolen or traded from the United States Army, which had a few outposts in 
this wild region during World War II. Usually, though, cayucas are left 
unfinished except for a thin coat of melted beeswax to keep out the moisture.-^ 
The final fitting of the hull is done after decorating, and depends upon the way 
the cayuca will be used. 

There are three ways of propelling a cayuca : by pole and paddle, by sail, 
and by motor. "Poles are the most obvious, and perhaps the most primitive 
method of driving canoes along. In many localities, they are efi;ective, con- 
venient and easily obtainable. For hunting or fishing, it is found that poles 
are more nearly silent than paddles and more effective in turning the canoe 
about and bringing it promptly to a standstill. "^^ However, paddling is used 
almost exclusively in Central America because of the great depth of the lakes 
and rivers, especially during the wet season.^^ 

The type of paddle used depends upon the position from which it is to be 
held. The paddles used from the sitting position are from four to six feet 
long. Those used while standing are from six to eight feet long.^^ The paddles 
have spoon-shaped blades, with a width about one-half the length. The top of 
the blade is tapered into the round shaft. No decorative carving is done, 
but the paddles may be elaborately painted. 

The paddle is held in ". . . the palms in opposition hold. It is a grip wide- 
ly used in Central and South America. "^^ The paddle is grasped with the 
blade to the left, the left hand next to the blade with palm down. The right 
hand is placed at the end of the shaft with the palm up. The cayuca is paddled 
much like the birch bark canoes of the North American Indians. Unlike the 
Northern Indian, the native of Central America paddles on both sides of the 
cayuca. "^ The grip is not reversed, since the hull is narrow enough to be 
reached across easily. 

On longer trips — on the lakes and at sea — sails may be used. Sailing was 
not a part of native American culture, but many cayucas have been adapted to 
be used with the white man's sail.^''' An unusual "scissors mast" is mounted 
just forward of amidships. A large square sail is used, often without a boom. 
I have often seen these crudely rigged craft far out at sea, beyond the sight 
of land. When used with a sail, a small keel is often built into the cayuca. 

Since sails are almost impossible to use on the swift rivers of the tropics, 
many cayucas have been adapted for use with outboard motors. Nothing seems 
to be as incongruous as the teaming of an outboard motor and a cayuca. A 



26 The Green Caldron 

thick transom is built into the squared-off stern. The motor is mounted and 
used as if it were in a rowboat. The Choco Indians of Panama, who have 
generally shown no affinity for "civilization," quite readily accept the outboard 
motor in trade.^^ Of course, only the well-to-do native can afford gasoline for 
a seven-horse Mercury engine. 

Whether paddled, sailed or used with an engine, the cayuca is a means of 
economical transportation. The jungles of Central America have a few trails 
and almost no roads. Recently, the airplane has been introduced,^** but the 
cayuca is still the best means of transportation on the thousands of streams, 
rivers, and lakes of the tropics. 

Bananas, the backbone of the tropical economy, are shipped to the ports 
and markets by cayuca. The banana dock is a part of every waterside vil- 
lage.^" The large fruit companies pay the planter about fifty cents for a stalk of 
bananas, which retails in the United States for ten dollars. The natives also 
raise and ship mangoes, sugar cane, avocados, coconuts, yamki,^'^ yucca, toma- 
toes, oranges, and limes.^^ 

The Cuna Indians of the San Bias Archipelago are completely dependent 
upon the cayuca for transportation. The low, sandy islands are unsuitable for 
bananas, and their only money crop is coconuts. Their only market is over 
one hundred miles away, and so the Cunas are expert sailors.^^ 

The cayuca also plays a vital role in hunting in the trackless jungle. Mr. 
David Marshall, a long-time resident of Gatun, Canal Zone, and an expert 
hunter and fisherman, often guided me on hunting expeditions. On our many 
trips into the jungle, he instructed me in how to use the cayuca in hunting. 

The cayuca is kept close inshore, where game trails can be easily spotted. 
Places that show sign of recent activity are "baited" with bananas or some 
other delicacy, and the hunter climbs a tree to await developments. Any ani- 
mal foolish enough to go for the bait is soon shot, bled, skinned, gutted, and 
on its way to the table. 

At night, the hunter will drift along the bank of a stream, occasionally 
flashing a battery-powered head lamp — much like a miner's lantern — into the 
jungle. The animals are hypnotized by the bright light, and their eyes are a 
glowing betrayal of their presence. Deer and conejo^'^ will reflect red ; pec- 
cary, orange ; tapir, white ; armadillo, green ; puma, yellow. A shotgun blast in 
the general direction of the reflection is deadly. This kind of hunting is called 
"jack-lighting" and, although illegal, is widely practiced throughout Central 
America. 

While fishing from cayucas, the natives usually work as a team. The cay- 
uca fisherman seldom works alone or with hook and line. The Old Man and 
the Sea is an excellent description of the danger involved. Nets are the most 
efificient method of catching fish.^^ A large net is dropped in a semi-circle off 
shore. The ends are landed on the beach, and the crews pull the net in. Cor- 
bina,^^ snook, red snapper, and mackerel, as well as manatee, sharks, and rays, 
are caught in this way. 



October, 1957 27 

Native children of the Caribbean regions are skilled in the use of the cay- 
uca. Often it is their only plaything, and children barely old enough to walk 
can swim and paddle a cayuca. Since most land is goverment-owned,^^ a 
family's most valuable possessions are usually their cayucas, and the skills of 
cayuca building and upkeep are taught from childhood. Many hours of plea- 
sure are afiforded the young child in learning to make and use cayucas — the 
same cayucas that will play such an important role in his adult life. 

To me the tropics will always be symbolized by a tanned youth with his 
machete in one hand and his cayuca paddle in the other. 

NOTES 

^Wendell P. Roop, Watercraft of Amazonia (Woodbury, New Jersey, 1935) p. 107. 

* Terence Quirke, Canoes the World Over (Urbana, University of Illinois Press, 1952) 
p. 42. 

^George M. Herbert, "All-purpose Boat of the Bayous," Nations Business, (Novem- 
ber, 1951) p. 86-7. 

* United States National Museum, Bulletin Number 127, Catalogue of the Watercraft 
Collection in the United States National Museum (Washington, 1923) p. 205. 

* Roop, p. 31. 

*U. S. National Museum, p. 222. 

Ubid., p. 223. 

' Roop, p. 29. 

' Quirke, p. 52. 

" bohio, palm-lhatched native hut. 

" Quirke, p. 49. 

^Ibid., p. 49. 

" Roop, p. 66. 

" Ibid., p. 65. 

^Quirke, p. 45. 

" Roop, p. 33. 

" Quirke, p. 45. 

"Tracey Robinson, Panama (New York, The Trow Press, 1907) p. 106 (picture). 

" Roop, p. 38. 

^ Quirke, p. 44. 

'^ Ibid., ■p. 49. 

"^ Ibid., V. 2\. 

^John and Mavis Biesarz, The People of Panama (New York, Columbia University 
Press, 1955) p. 5. 

^' Quirke, p. 25. 

^ Ibid., p. 27. 

'" Roop, p. 31. 

'' Quirke, p. 31. 

^ "Study Choco Indians, "Science News Letter, (August 15, 1953) p. 102. 

^"Biesarz, p. 177 (picture) 

^"Robinson, p. 106 (picture). 

^^ yamki, root-like vegetable somewhat like the yellow sweet potato. 

^^C. L. G. Anderson, Old Panama and Castillo del Oro (Boston, The Page Company, 
1914) p. 4. 

^ Ibid., p. 14. 

^* conejo, spotted jungle animal which resembles large rabbit. 

^Thomas Gann, Ancient Cities and Modern Tribes (London, Duckworth Company, 
1926) p. 25. 

^* corbina, sea trout 

^■^ Biesarz, p. 124. 



28 The Green Caldron 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

I. Books 

Anderson, C. L. G. Old Panama and Costilla del Oro. Boston : The Page 
Company, 1914. 

Biesarz, John and Mavis. The People of Panama. New York: Columbia 
University Press, 1955. 

Gann, Thomas W. F. Ancient Cities and Modern Tribes. London : Duck- 
worth Company, 1926. 

Quirke, Terence Thomas. Canoes the World Over. Urbana: University of 
Illinois Press, 1952. 

Robinson, Tracey. Panama. New York: The Trow Press, 1907. 

Roop, Wendell P. Watercrajt of Amazonia. Woodbury, New Jersey : 1935. 

II. Articles 

Herbert, George M. "All-purpose Boat of the Bayous." Nations Business, 
XXXIX (November, 1951), 86-87. 

"Study Choco Indians." Science News Letter, LXIV (August 15, 1953), 102. 

III. Bulletin 

United States National Museum. Bulletin Number 127 , Catalogue of the 
Watercraft Collection in the United States National Museum. (Washington, 
1923), 205, 222-223. 



Rhet as Writ 



Always remember that if you could a subject much better one way than into use the 
other way it might be much better for you in many ways. 



Students should work harder to overcome their bad habits, such as spelling. 



It is evident that Hemingway intended to alleviate the ponderous style of previous 
nineteenth century writers without losing a certain atmosphere of expectation they de- 
veloped. This is partially achieved by making one of the main characters pregnant. 



Each fraternity was trying to outdue the others. 



Let's take the sex out of the schools and put it back into the home where it belongs. 



Every night, when he came home from his job as a stone-cutter, he would pour him- 
self over his books. 



My dream of an ideal vacation would be a cruze through the Carabean on my own 
private yatch. 



I came to the University of Illinois to get a bitter education. 



The Olympic Games were made up of many athletic feets. 



I also learn to know many different types of girls by dating them. I think it is im- 
portant to know these things in order to wisely choose a wife. I will admit, however, 
that my choice may not wholly be based on bare facts ; love will play a greater part. 



New types of weapons are provided. Guided missals which can be directed against 
enemy ground units and enemy aircraft. 



The Contributors 

Jean Dewhirst — Soldon-Blewett, St. Louis, Mo. 

Ronald W. Sadewater — East Rockford Senior 

Donna Toika — Waukegan Twp. 

Joan McDiarmid — ^Warren Garnee 

S. Ward Hamilton III — Morgan Park 

Joseph E. Guderian — Morton 

Gail Dent — ^Niles Twp. 

David Berman — Roosevelt 

John B. Means — Southwest, Kansas City, Mo. 

Sayre D, Andersen — Maine Twp. 

William L. Magnuson — Harvard 

Frances Aulisi — Proviso Twp. 

Wolfgang Schulz — Joliet Junior College 

Joanne E. Ruck — New Trier Twp. 

Norman Mysliwies — Gage Park 

Eugene Bryerton — Fenger 

Phillip A. Weibler — Notre Dame, Quincy 

Frederick R. Wells — Freeport 

William C, WUloughby — Cristobal, C. Z. 






f 

E Green Caldron 

A MAGAZINE OF FRESHMAN WRITING 
CONTENTS 

Dale Lytton: Family Life Is for Woint-n and Children Only? 1 

Mike Sovereign : Doublethink 2 

Anonymous: Honest? Of Course I Am 3 

Judith Raphael: The Honest Nonconformist 4 

James H. Stein, Jr.: TV's Exploitation of Knowledge 5 

Sue Hatch: The Lost Arts . 6 

Frank Kaspar: Step Aside, Mr. Beethoven 7 

Sara Crew: Freshman Pledging Is a Scholastic Asset 8 

Stanley House: "One for the Money and Two for the Show" 9 

Max Flandorfer: It Doesn't Matter 11 

Sue Fullerton: War or Peace: It Depends on You 12 

Valerie Neville: Keeping Up with a Car (from the Woman's Angle) ... 13 

Mark Zimmerman: Win the War Against Waste and Disease 15 

ISelson G. Freeman: Five, Four, Three, Two, One 17 

Kay Jones: Sunburst at Twilight 19 

Richard Koch: Grand Canyon Sunrise 26 

Sally Langhaar: The Old Man and the Canes 27 

Tobye Black: Away with the A's 28 

Leon Simon: What Price Law Enforcement? 29 

Jutta Anderson: Sketch 30 

Leah Meyer: Put the Man Together 31 

Rhet as Writ 32 

Vol. 27, No. 2 December, 1957 

UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 



T, 



HE Green Caldron is published four times a year by the 
Rhetoric Staff at the University of Illinois. Material is chosen 
from themes and examinations written by freshmen in the Uni- 
versity. Permission to publish is obtained for all full themes, 
including those published anonymously. Parts of themes, how- 
ever, are published at the discretion of the committee in charge. 
Members of the committee in charge of The Green Caldron 
are Phyllis Rice, Edward Levy, David Gladish, George Estey, 
and Carl Moun, Editor. 



Family Life Is for Women and 
Children Only? 

Dale Lytton 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 6 

AMERICANS ARE THE GREATEST "KIDDERS" ON EARTH. 
The majority of us wink at dirty politics, pretend to abhor sex, and 
hope to get something for nothing. A small minority recognize and de- 
cry these contradictions, but even this group usually goes along with the idea 
that American life in general is founded on a unit of organization known as 
the family. The family may have been the original social unit in America, but 
times have changed. 

When the forty-hour week became commonplace, Americans (and especial- 
ly labor bosses) could boast that finally the worker had enough time to be with 
his family. Did he? The mass migration of the middle class to the suburbs 
meant that once more man would leave for work at dawn and arrive home 
near bedtime. The long weekend (two full days) would allow the family to 
play its true role. Really ? With Dad at the golf course, on the lake, or men- 
acing all the stray animals in the great outdoors, he could hardly be expected 
to assume his designated role at home. Since Mom had canasta'd and P.T.A.'d 
during the week, she could be counted upon to be around (around the neigh- 
borhood, that is). Invariably, Junior preferred the "Y" or the movies or any- 
where else but home. 

Americans put a lot of emphasis on the importance of the home — and every- 
one from "Kissin' Jim" Folsom to the editors of The Saturday Evening Post 
defers to the "family," grasping this mythical idea of domestic unity as gospel 
and spoonfeeding it to the people (who, according to the rules, believe any- 
thing in print). 

Family life for women and children only ? With the exclusion of any mem- 
bers of the family, can there be family life ? Hardly ! This is not to say that 
the lack of family life is going to bring the walls cracking down on us at any 
minute — that is not the problem. The serious question involved is that of 
being realistic about the breakdown of the family unit and admitting that the 
individual reigns supreme in our structure of society. 

And while we're expunging this particular fairy tale about America's glori- 
ous family life, let's stop being such great "kidders" and regurgitate some of 
the other half-truths we've been so complacently swallowing all these years. 

[1] 



The Green Caldron 



Doublethink 

Mike Sovereign 

Rhetoric 102, Book Report 

A MAN WAS BORN AND HIS EDUCATION BEGUN. HE WAS 
taught to reason logically from observable evidence. He was told that all 
men are created equal, that force was basically evil, and that two wrongs 
never make a right. He matured and told his people that segregation was 
wrong, and they called him a "nigger-lover" and ran him out of town. He 
ignored their God, and they shunned him. He refused to fight in the war, and 
they called him a traitor and a coward. He maintained that if all men are equal, 
they should contribute according to their abilities, and profit according to 
their needs ; and they branded him a seditionist, a revolutionary, and revoked 
his citizenship. In destitution, he tried to find a job to support his wife and 
children, and the unions and employers rejected him as undesirable. In desper- 
ation, he tried to leave the country, and was denied a passport. In despair, he 
killed himself. 

But what has this to do with the novel 1984 ? It is very hard to believe that 
people could doublethink, the action of believing what one does not believe, 
as effectively as the people in 1984 did. They could forget that yesterday the 
enemy was Eastasia, not Eurasia, and that the chocolate ration was being re- 
duced when the government said it was being increased. They could close their 
eyes to the truth and, if necessary, believe that two and two equal five. This 
seems impossible, but examine the case of the young man above. Everyone is 
taught the principles that this man tried to apply. They are the basis of the 
religion of the country. But the vast majority ignore these truths because 
they find that society will not accept many actions based upon these principles, 
even though it professes to believe them. Therefore doublethink is necessary, 
just as it was a necessity for the party numbers in 1984. In both cases the so- 
ciety demands that truth be denied, and that the denial be forgotten, if the indi- 
vidual wants to remain in the society. The individual must believe one set of 
values and act upon another. 

Winston Smith and the man in the first part of this essay both refused to 
doublethink. Smith was finally converted by Room 101, the treatment that no 
one could endure. He was converted to prevent him from becoming a martyr. 
There is no Room 101 as yet, but people are so well schooled in doublethink 
that most of them would never think of the man in this essay as a martyr, 
quite the opposite. However, as O'Brien said in 1984, without a Room 101 
there will continue to be people who refuse to doublethink. But if the adherents 
of political, social, and economic orthodoxy can limit the spread of truth and 



December, 1957 ■ 3 

the refusal to doublethink, by tightening the patterns of conformity and blindly 
labeling all deviations as subversive or seditious, then a Room 101 will, in 
time, arrive ; and a sterile world will no longer be troubled by nonconformists 
who refuse to doublethink. 



Honest? Of Course I Am 

Anonymous 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 1 

LAST SUMMER WHEN I WAS BEING INTERVIEWED FOR A 
scholarship, the interviewer asked me if I considered myself to be an 
honest person. I replied, "Yes," and thought a little indignantly, 
of course I am. Does he suppose that I'm going to use the scholarship money 
for something besides college? 

I was correct in saying that I was honest in respect to the scholarship 
money. I would have considered misusing it a crime. My definition of dis- 
honesty included, among other things, any form of stealing. Actually, though, 
if I or one of my friends had taken a package of chewing gum or some other 
small insignificant item from the corner grocery, I probably would have made 
a joke of it. 

It appears that I wouldn't have applied my standard of dishonesty to my- 
self or to my friends. This would have been especially true if the dishonest 
act was committed on a dare or unthinkingly. That is, I wouldn't have ap- 
plied it before I was caught in dishonesty myself. 

I was employed last summer by a dairy company at the state fair. The 
employees where I worked received their lunches free by merely going through 
the kitchen and behind the counter to get the food. I had been eating in back 
of the kitchen with a friend who was working at another part of the fair- 
grounds. With the original intention of paying for it, I got his lunch at the 
same time I got mine, so that he wouldn't have to wait in the long lines. How- 
ever when I couldn't get to the cashier, I didn't pay. The third time this inci- 
dent occurred the manager called me aside, stated that he had seen me, and 
then fired me. 

Of course my friends told me that everyone "stole" a milkshake now and 
then, and that I just happened to get caught. Probably it seems ridiculous to 
suffer a guilty conscience over a couple of pilfered milkshakes, but then most 
people haven't been caught stealing. They haven't had their inflated opinions 
of their honesty pricked, as I have. 

When asked if they were honest, I wonder if these people could reply, 
"Honest? Of course I am." I couldn't. 



The Green Caldron 



The Honest Nonconformist 



Judith Raphael 
Rhetoric 101, Theme A 

AN ACQUAINTANCE WITH PART OF MY EDUCATIONAL 
background should help to understand why I value my Freshman Week 
experience. For the past school year I attended the Art Institute of 
Chicago. It is an art school and a very liberal institution. Most of the student 
body resided in the "arty" section of Chicago in sub-basement flats. They 
wore beards, dirty sweatshirts and sandals, and possessed a great deal of con- 
tempt for society and its rules. By rules, I mean institutional and social con- 
ventions, not laws. Nonconformism was their God, and "doing as one pleases" 
their religion. They put these feelings a good deal more idealistically, however ; 
and lacking in self-discipline anyway, I began to believe them. I liked the way 
they rationalized my immaturity and called it individualism. In fact I was 
very much impressed with the idea that I was a natural nonconformist. My 
parents were not, however, and within a few months my stay amongst the 
"bohemians" was abruptly ended. I was packed off to the University of Illi- 
nois. 

A very beneficial incident occurred my first day at the University. I indig- 
nantly told some clerk at McKinley Hospital that I was in perfect physical 
condition and absolutely refused to take a silly physical examination. The clerk 
very calmly told me in no uncertain terms either to take it or go back home. 
Needless to say, I took the physical. That was only the beginning of a week 
of following rules without any other alternative. It started me thinking. 

Actually, there is very little connection between breaking laws and non- 
conformity. Chaos is all that would result from lack of restriction. I now be- 
lieve that people who defy rules are not always the staunch individuals. In 
many cases they are just basically weak in self-discipline. Naturally I would 
rebel against restriction of my freedom of speech, religion, and thought, but 
not against some rule which merely states that I cannot stay out after one 
o'clock. If individualist is the title given to those who defy rules, then the 
best of them are in prisons. It is far more of a challenge to retain one's identity 
when under the restriction of certain institutions and customs. Any fool can 
break rules and be different. 

No one can change overnight, but I do feel that my new ideas are more 
mature than my former ones. Maybe I should thank that fellow at McKinley 
Hospital who told me to go home. He frightened me into thinking. 



December, 1957 



TV's Exploitation of Knowledge 



James H. Stein, Jr. 
Rhetoric Placement Test 



THIS FALL AMERICAN TELEVISION VIEWERS WILL SEE 
more quiz programs than ever before. Two of the three major networks 
have announced that they will program more quiz shows in the "peak 
viewing hours" this year. Clearly, it is time for an evaluation of these so-called 
"educational" programs. 

The better-known quiz programs offer large cash prizes of more than 
fifty thousand dollars. To win such a sum, a contestant usually has to answer 
a series of questions which are progressively more difficult. Many of the ques- 
tions require the contestant to recall dates or names from history. The average 
viewer will soon forget the years the Tigers won World Series ; most house- 
wives will be unable to list the "minority" Presidents of the United States 
even immediately after a contestant has successfully listed them in chronologi- 
cal order. 

The harder questions are so detailed that they border on the ridiculous. 
One question asked of a teenage girl on The $64,000 Question consisted, in part, 
of naming the two American atomic-powered submarines ; explaining the dif- 
ference between their atomic drives ; giving the atomic weight of a certain 
isotope, the half-life of a certain radio-active material, and the age of the 
earth as determined by the decay of that substance — and of answering certain 
questions about cyclotrons. It took the girl nearly eight minutes just to answer 
the question. American families all over the nation gasped and bit their finger- 
nails, but few actually retained any of the information. 

Many questions are involved and tricky. However, the contestant is never 
made to do any original or constructive thinking. If he has a good memory, 
and is acquainted with the subject, he can rattle off the answers like a parrot. 
Such questions have little or no educational value. An educated person does 
not necessarily have thousands of little bits of information stowed away in his 
mind ; instead, he is able to locate them quickly, in a book or elsewhere, and 
to use them logically and constructively. 

Sponsers and networks proclaim their programs as "educational." This 
is because they dare not tell the public the cause of the programs' appeal. 
People like to see freaks, and a twelve-year-old boy who has memorized col- 
lege texts is, to an extent, a freak. People also like to identify themselves 
with the contestants, and to dream of winning all the money for themselves. 
This is why the sponsors do not select contestants who would be expected to 



6 The Green Caldron 

know a subject thoroughly, such as professors, but "personaUties," such as a 
friendly jockey who reads Shakespeare. 

Education is not come by easily. No one can shovel knowledge into a 
person 's mind, over television or elsewhere. Learning is an individual activity, 
not a commercialized amusement. 

The Lost Arts 

Sue Hatch 
Rhetoric 101, Theme C 

OUR SONS AND DAUGHTERS ARE GROWING UP TO BE 
teachers, scientists, lawyers, but they have already lost one of the most 
wonderful gifts that their forefathers have left them. Our children have 
lost the sensitivity, the understanding, and consequently the appreciation for 
the beautiful creations of the greatest artists of all time because our schools 
place importance only on scientific facts, not on the beauty of creation. 

Great artists such as Bach, Handel, and Mozart, won the applause of 
thousands. Each of these musicians was a creator of popular music, for their 
works were exceedingly popular when they were written. What kind of mu- 
sician wins the cheers of millions now? Elvis Presley and Johnny Ray have 
people fighting each other to get a mere glimpse of one of them, but not by 
the loosest meaning of the term can these men be called artists. Why have our 
youngsters fallen for this clumsy, badly written music? The reason is quite 
plain ; no one in our great school system has found time between math classes 
to teach or point out the beauty in the subtlety of the greatest musical works 
of all time. Consequently, the present-day teenagers have fallen into a habit 
of admiring music which must have a rhythm so terrifyingly obvious that it 
clouts one over the head. Yet, according to the "authorities" there can be 
nothing wrong in the teaching methods of our schools. 

Apparently music isn't the only art that has been undermined by our 
modern blockheads. If Rembrandt were ever to see our "modern art," he un- 
doubtedly would feel that there is no sense in making paint brushes or canvases 
any more. After all, when art gets so modern that the Chicago Art Institute 
hangs an artist's palette on its wall as an example of this wonderful new type 
of painting, one can hardly help thinking that there is something wrong among 
our artists and their critics. But what the public doesn't stop long enough to 
think over is the chance that our education might have something to do with 
this modern type of ignorance. 

Although this lack of understanding where the fine arts are concerned 
doesn't go completely unnoticed, if anyone criticizes our youth, he is called 
"crack-pot," "old fashioned," and "fanatic." Won't someone please come to 
the aid of our limping education and dying arts? 



December, 1957 7 

Step Aside, Mr. Beethoven 

Frank Kaspar 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 3 

iw / E, THE PEOPLE OF THE PRESENT GENERATION, ARE 
\\/ extremely fortunate, for we have beheld a great transition in music. 
Yes, that "stuffy" music written by the old masters has finally been 
replaced by a new and soothing musical style called "rock and roll." 

The great popularity of rock and roll can be attributed partially to the 
lyrics of the songs. For instance, one artist croons a passionate love song 
which relates his experiences while attending a drive-in theater with his 
favorite girl. He describes the tender moments they shared while sitting in the 
back seat of the car, eating peanuts and candy. It is enough to make one choke 
on his emotions ; to think of making love over a bag of peanuts 1 Another 
great artist has recorded a song in which he reprimands his girl friend with 
the bitter, cutting remark, "Well, you ain't nothin' but a hound dog!" Imag- 
ine the effect that these well-chosen words must have had on the girl, for they 
are so forceful, so . . . degrading. One of the greatest, most heart-felt pas- 
sages ever encountered in musical history comes from a top-selling Elvis 
Presley record. It seems that Elvis deeply loved a beautiful girl ; so he wrote 
a song which describes the storm of love which had lodged within his heart. 
Through this tender love song, he tells the girl that because of her, he is "All 
Shook Up." I am certain that future lovers will view these words in the same 
light that today's lovers view Romeo's speeches to Juliet. 

There is another reason for the great popularity of rock and roll — one 
which is even greater than the poetic beauty of the songs. Rock and roll 
artists possess a tone quality that would have put Enrico Caruso to shame. 
Little Richard is the first name that enters my mind when I desire an example 
of this unbelievable tone quality. Perhaps the reader has heard that certain 
singers are capable of emitting tones which will crack a champagne glass. 
Well, I believe that Little Richard's voice could shatter any coke bottle within 
fifty yards. Rock and roll musicians, as well as singers, exhibit this wonderful 
tone quality. I would be willing to wager that Mr. Sil Austin, the famous 
saxophone player, had been taking music lessons for at least three weeks prior 
to his recording of "Slow Walk." 

With artists such as those mentioned above giving their support to it, 
rock and roll can hardly fail to replace classical music. Step aside, Mr. 
Beethoven, and witness the asre of eood music — rock and roll. 



8 The Green Caldron 

Freshman Pledging Is a 
Scholastic Asset 

Sara Crew 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 6 

MANY PEOPLE ARE AGAINST FRESHMAN PLEDGING. A 
common objection is that since freshman year is the transition year, 
the year of orientation to a new way of life, pledging is an added and 
unnecessary burden which interferes too much with studies. However, from 
personal experience as a freshman pledge, I have seen many advantages to 
this system which I will attempt to bring to light here. Since I am relatively 
unfamiliar with fraternity pledging, I shall speak in terms of sorority pledg- 
ing only. 

Education is the primary purpose of our university, and no system is more 
aware of this than the Panhellenic system. The rushee must be able to fulfil 
certain scholastic qualifications before she may pledge. These vary slightly 
from house to house, and there are some exceptions in which individuals not 
possessing such qualifications have been pledged, but in the main they are 
hard, fast, unbreakable rules. These rules require that the girl stand in the 
upper half of her high-school graduating class. Many houses require a higher 
standing. It is believed that her high school record is indicative of how she 
will do in college. 

The Panhellenic system urges scholastic achievement by offering trophies 
to the house and the pledge class having the highest average. A banquet is 
held at mid-term which is attended by the pledge with the highest average 
from each pledge class. Scholarship banquets are held to honor the five-point 
students. The individual houses also recognize outstanding scholastic achieve- 
ment with awards given to those with a 4.5 or better average. Pledges are en- 
couraged to strive for membership in Alpha Lambda Delta, honorary society 
for freshman women carrying sixteen credit hours with a 4.5 average. The 
houses are ranked on the quartile system, and of course every girl works so that 
her house may be in the first quartile. Her pride in her sorority and herself 
makes the girl try harder to maintain a higher average than she might if she 
were an independent and did not have these standards and goals set before her. 
Last, but far from least, the pledge must have a 3.3 average to become activated. 
If all else fails to make her study, the thought of that pin, and all that goes with 
it, will spur her on. 

Social life is kept at a minimum during the pledge year. Pledges are re- 
quired to study from seven until ten on school nights. They are also expected 
to study during the day from eight until three-thirty when they are not in class. 
Independents, on the other hand, have no study rules, and the social whirl 
sometimes tends to get the better of them. This is particularly true of freshmen, 



December, 1957 .-. 9 

since they are unaccustomed to planning their own time. A friend is living 
here independently. She told me recently that she dates during the day be- 
tween classes as well as in the evening. At this rate she may find herself 
buying a one-way ticket home when mid-term grades are released. The temp- 
tation to have a good time is often hard to overcome, and it is unfortunate that 
if the independent's inclinations veer in this direction, there is nothing to hold 
her back. 

Another popular misconception is that the poor pledge is constantly 
swamped with meetings and endless pledge duties. We have meetings one 
night a week, and these are generally terminated by eight-thirty. Pledge 
duties consist of answering the phone three hours a week and cleaning the 
room twice a week. Other duties include cleaning the laundry room and study 
hall, running any errands the house mother might have, and similar jobs 
which require no more than half an hour. These duties are performed by a 
different pledge each day, and often there are days when a pledge has no duties 
whatsoever. Are these activities so time-consuming that they keep the pledge 
continually submerged ? I hardly think so. Rather, they are good discipline, 
for one learns to budget her time in order to get everything accomplished effi- 
ciently. 

The pledge also has the advantage of living with upperclassmen who may 
be able to assist her in a course she finds difficult. Furthermore, she benefits 
in that living in close contact with a cross-section of personalities enables her 
to acquire new ideas and viewpoints on her various subjects. 

All these benefits, plus the constant emphasis on studying, result in very 
creditable academic achievement among the pledges. Had I not pledged, I 
do not believe I would try as hard as I do. Keen competition among the 
sororities and within the sorority, personal pride and pride in my sorority, 
these are more than sufficient incentive for high academic achievement. I 
am certain these sentiments are shared by every freshman pledge on the 
campus. They are our obligation to our sisters and ourselves. 

"One for the Money and Two 
for the Show" 

Stanley House 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 6 

IN SEPTEMBER OF 1956, I WENT THROUGH THE FORMAL 
rush here at the University of Illinois. During this four-day period, the 
foremost topic of conversation as I visited various fraternity houses, was 
my intended academic major. Each house expressed a superficial interest in 
my college career and pointed out the number of fellows in my curriculum. 
Being a rather "green" freshman, I listened intently as the "Greek" salesman 



10 The Green Caldron 

told me about their seminars and compulsory study periods for pledges and 
as they pointed to their shiny scholastic trophies adorning the walls. I was 
also told that in addition to providing every opportunity for success in school 
the Greek system offered the freshman pledge an incentive to work hard. 

In order that I might get ofif to a good start in school and become familial 
with my daily routine, I was treated as a guest for the first week of classes 
Then, on the eve of the second week, I was pulled out of bed to be initiated 
into pledging. At this time, I was informed of my pledge duties as well as 
the fraternity traditions. True to their boastings, the members ordered me tc 
be in the library when not in class, from eight to four, Monday througl" 
Friday, with a one-hour break for lunch. At four o'clock, I would return tc 
the house to pick up laundry and shine shoes for members. At seven o'clock 
I would take my books and go to the dining room, where a member serving 
as a proctor would put me on silence and would order me to glue my eyes 
to a book for the next three hours. Realizing the importance of a good night's 
sleep, the pledge trainer required me to be in bed by eleven. This was th( 
time-table as outlined for me in the pledge policy and as executed on the first 
and only the first, day of pledging. 

From then on the emphasis seemed to change from school to pledging 
Instead of going to sleep at eleven, I would wash floors and do houseworl- 
till two or three in the morning. On Tuesday and Thursday, my first class 
was at ten o'clock, but nevertheless at eight I was in the library sleepinc 
peacefully with a book opened before me, and absorbing knowledge bj 
osmosis. 

Just as the school week was devoted to pledging, so the weekend wa; 
committed to this same servitude. Pledges were required to have a certair 
number of dates and to attend all social functions. Many weekends, I woulc 
have liked to sleep and then study for a coming hour examination, but ] 
always had to get up early on Saturday morning and rake leaves or was! 
windows, and then go out that night. 

As a result of my busy schedule and divided attentions, neither my lif( 
nor my time was ever my own. From time to time, physically exhausted anc 
mentally forlorn, I would lose track of my primary purpose in being here 

Having been a member of a fraternity one semester, in addition to m) 
first semester of pledging, I realize that pledging is basic to the fraternity 
and I will always have fond memories of my first semester. However, ] 
must confess that I think I would have been better off living independentl} 
my first semester and adjusting to college at my own rate. In this way, ] 
could have studied when I wanted to, slept at night and dated when I wa; 
caught up in school. In general, I could have assumed full responsibility foi 
my actions and matured on my own. Then, after the first crucial semester 
I could pledge a fraternity, confident that I was a college student, and eagei 
to take part in this other, less important phase of college living. I definitel} 
believe that pledging should be banned to the first semester freshman, but ] 
personally encourage students to go through second-semester rush. 



December, 1957 11 

It Doesn't Matter 

Max Flandorfer 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 6 

MAN HAS ALWAYS BEEN ABLE TO FIND SOME EXCUSE 
for starting a war, and if he couldn't find a legitimate one he would go 
out and dream one up or start the war for no reason at all. That has 
ilways been certain and always will be : Man will find a reason for starting 
I war. It's always a holy war of some sort, for freedom, for land, for a better 
ife. There is always this detestable search for the Holy Grail, and surely it 
nust sicken the stomach of a reasonable man. 

There is one reason for man going to war, one single reason for man 
cilling his fellow man — he loves it. Always there is talk about horror and 
^rief, but it still, always, seems to come out a big party with soul-stirring 
)0ngs, pretty banners, and people being happily sad about leaving each other. 
Sad? Every blood-lusting one of them loves every minute of it. 

A few years ago we finished the latest "holy war" and, for a while, there 
seemed to be no conceivable reason for another. How long ago was it, or how 
short ? How soon again before we can take out our little flags and wave them 
iround ? 

Now it is capitalist aggressors and Communists war mongers ! There are 
;he oppressed slaves of Wall Street and the oppressed workers of Communism, 
rhere is a new aggressor and a new oppressed. We have an excuse : all we 
leed now is a trigger. What will the trigger be ? 

A Communist moon is spinning over free American soil. It can be taken 
iown and twisted and bent out of shape. It can be heated in the furnace of 
luman hate and greed, and forged into a wonderful trigger. That is as good 
I reason as any, and God will lead us. And if there is a God, with what red 
lands he must lead us. Somehow, some way, that first bomb will, must, ex- 
plode. 

When a bomb explodes and kills someone, who can say what was the 
;ause? Was it the powder in the bomb or was it the fuse? Was it the hand 
;hat dropped the bomb or the order that caused the bomb to be dropped ? Was 
t the person who paid to have the bomb made or the man who was paid to make 
;he bomb? And what is the justification for exploding a bomb, or does there 
lave to be any ? 

To the man lying on the ground with his life spread red and messy around 
lim — it doesn't matter. To the mother holding a mass of broken bones and 
iripping flesh that was once a child — it doesn't matter. To a child sitting cry- 
ing and terrified next to a piece of his mother — it doesn't matter. It doesn't 
matter. 



ife? The Green Caldron 

War or Peace: It Depends on You 

Sue Fullerton 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 1 

THREE WEEKS AGO AN EVENT SURPRISED AND SHOCKED 
most citizens of this country ; the Russians launched their satellite, 
Sputnik. Before this, we had lulled ourselves into a sense of security 
concerning our scientific superiority. We were like the high school student 
who is the smartest in his class. He gets good grades without studying, there- 
fore he thinks he can learn with no eflfort. Because we had always been first 
to have new mechanisms and gadgets and because our scientists had made 
some notable discoveries, we thought that only in our country were inventors 
ingenious and scientists brilliant. Then came the blow to our national ego — 
the Russians launched the first man-made satellite. 

Furthermore, we are told that our own scientists cannot duplicate the feat 
because we have not developed a fuel powerful enough to project a satellite to 
a height where it will remain to circle the globe. Does this mean that Russia 
is ahead of us in all scientific development? No. Does this indicate that the 
Communists are capable of coming into our country and either seizing it or 
destroying it? No. Will this lead to World War HI? The answer to this 
question lies with each individual in the United States. 

Remember the too-smart high school student? He came to college and 
found a great many other people who seemed to know just as much or more 
than he did. He has begun to wonder, "What if I'm not as smart as I think? 
Maybe the guys at home were just dumb." Making top grades now without 
studying is impossible ; he has never studied. What will he do ? There are 
two possibilities : either he learns to study, works hard, and makes good grades ; 
or he doesn't study, plays around, and goes home after a semester or two. 

What will we as a nation do ? Our security in superiority has been upset. 
We are not sure that we know as much as everyone else. What will we do? 
Again there are two possibilities : Either we can accept defeat or we can rise 
to meet the challenge offered us. Either we can admit we are defeated and go 
into a state of panic which would necessarily accompany such an admission, or 
we can rise to the challenge and encourage our scientists even more in their en- 
deavors for superiority of accomplishment. 

However, some of our attitudes may have to change. No longer can we 
point to our nation with gross conceit saying, "Look, world, we have every- 
thing : freedom, more material advantages than any other nation ; more brilliant 
minds. Our nation has made more progress in every way than any other." 
Now we have begun to wonder ; perhaps that is a good thing. When our friend 
was in high school, he could "get by" without studying; therefore he didn't 



December, 1957 13 

Study. When our nation gloried too much in its own conceit, perhaps its 
people didn't work hard, didn't try to progress as rapidly as they could. Now 
what will they do? 

Our statesmen and diplomats must change their propaganda a little. In- 
stead of assuring us that our scientists still know more than anyone else's 
and that we can dictate what the rest of the world may or may not do, they 
must believe and explain to us and the rest of the free world that this advance of 
the Russians is not the most horrible thing that could have happened ; it is 
shocking, but not petrifying. 

Our scientists must continue their research, perhaps at a slightly acceler- 
ated rate. Realizing that the future of our nation Is in their hands, we should 
offer them all the encouragement we possibly can. 

What about us individually ? What can we do ? First we must accept the 
fact that the Russians have made a great scientific advance. We must neither 
belittle that accomplishment, nor be terrified by it. Either of these courses 
leads to eventual strife and the greater possibility of another war: Instead 
we must rise to the challenge hurled at us and encourage more and more people 
to enter fields of scientific research such as engineering, physics, and mathe- 
matics. Only by having more and better educated scientists can we meet the 
caliber of the Russian scientific force. Only by shbwing the rest of the world 
that we still believe in ourselves can we hope to retain respect and confidence. 
Only by studying can our college freshman become a senior. 



Keeping Up with a Car (from the 
Woman's Angle) 

Valerie Neville 
Rhetoric Placement T.est 



KEEPING UP WITH AN AUTOMOBILE IS NEVER AN EASY 
feat. All too often the antics of our four-wheeled friends will render 
us speechless, and sorely wounded in the pocketbook. Perhaps I 
exaggerate slightly. Perhaps all cars do not have the complex personality 
of our family vehicle. Perhaps some automobiles do not require a weekly 
trip to the local garage. If this be true, I would like to know what magical 
secrets are in the possession of the car owners. 

Men have no trouble keeping up their cars. Men have mechanical knowl- 
edge. Men can go out, buy the necessary parts, and perform the necessary 
labor themselves. 



14 The Green Caldron 

Women have a very difficult time trying to keep up with a car. In the 
first place, they don't understand "what makes it go." When a woman 
arrives at a garage, she has been carefully coached by some male. She knows 
exactly what to say. She will tell the mechanic exactly what is wrong with 
the differential, even if she has no idea what the differential does or v/here 
it is. Telling the vehicle's troubles to the mechanic is the easy part. When 
the mechanic tells the woman what he will do to remedy the situation, the 
poor woman's troubles begin. 

The mechanic rattles off a long series of technical terms. These terms 
must be memorized, so that the woman may report back to her husband or 
father. The woman will try very hard to get it all straight, but terms like 
generator and distributor baffle her. She will generally remember only two 
things the mechanic told her — how long the car will be in the shop, and how 
much it will cost. 

Woe unto the unfortunate female who must report to a garage without 
coaching. The most vivid description that can be conjured up by this poor 
lady is, "It goes click-cHck-click." She must pretend not to notice the me- 
chanic's supercilious grin. 

Another unfortunate difficulty that plagues females with cars is peculiar 
to young women. A car which is transporting five or six teen-age girls 
suddenly develops a remarkable noise. The young women don't know what 
to do, but they are dreadfully worried about Daddy's car. So they turn in to 
the nearest service station. They describe the remarkable noise to the at- 
tendant. The attendant asks to hear the engine. But as soon as the car is 
started, the noise disappears. The attendant smiles a knowing grin. Since 
he can hear no unusual sounds, he assumes that the girls came in for a brief 
flirtation. The young women now have two worries — what to do about the 
attendant and what to do about the non-existent noise. There is one pleasant 
feature of an old, cantankerous automobile. It makes friends wherever it 
goes. It is surrounded by comments of "They don't make 'em like that any 
more." Of course they don't ; there is a good reason. Everyone can't spend 
five or six hours a week pacing an oil-spattered garage floor. However, after 
the rather rough breaking-in period, any woman can learn to enjoy running 
a car. (She will never quite be able to keep up with it.) If hers is a big old car, 
she has my deepest sympathies. She also has this word of advice : 

Learn to enjoy garages. Mechanics are really pleasant people, if you 
don't worry about the sneers they will give you. Also, garages are educa- 
tional. You can learn all kinds of fascinating things about cars. If you learn 
your lessons well, you will be able to astound the man in your life with 
some statement like, "Honey, I think those valve-lifters are awfully noisy." 



December, 1957 IS 

Win the War Against Waste and 

Disease 

Mark Zimmerman 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 1 

\W/HAT WOULD YOU DO IF FOR EVERY ANIMAL THAT 
XX/ you raised on your farm you were to lose twenty dollars? Probably 
you are thinking to yourself, "I could most certainly do a more effi- 
cient job of farming than that!" But what if you continued to lose twenty 
dollars per animal? Perhaps you now say, "I'd quit raising these animals." 
Of course, this solution would be more economical than continually operating 
at such a loss. 

Do you know that for each rat you board on your farm you lose twenty 
dollars ? And do you know that this has been going on for years ? Yet, what 
have you done to stop this needless waste? 

It is a generally known fact that there are 171 million people in the United 
States. But, did you know that there are also 171 million rats in the United 
States? In other words, there is one rat per person in this country. Annually 
these 171 million rats destroy the food and produce from two hundred thou- 
sand farms. This vast amount of wasted commodity would be enough to feed 
ten million people, or about one-seventeenth of our entire population. It 
wouldn't be so bad if the rat only ate the food that he touches, but this mis- 
chievous monster insists upon destroying ten times more than he actually eats. 

With their sharp incisors, rats are capable of gnawing through oak planks, 
sun-dried bricks, slate shingles, and poorly constructed concrete three inches 
thick. Rats also start costly fires by gnawing through the insulation on electri- 
cal wires. From these preceding facts the United States Department of Agri- 
culture has been able to estimate that we pay twenty dollars to board each rat 
on our farms for a year. 

Rats are the carriers of at least ten human diseases, including rat-bite 
fever and the bubonic plague. The bubonic plague is an example of the wide- 
spread disease-filth destruction carried by rats. The plague was first recorded 
in history during the outbreak of 49 B.C. in Athens, Greece. In the year 1300, 
one-fourth of the entire population of Europe was wiped out as a result of 
the terrible bubonic plague. Contrary to the general belief that the plague is car- 
ried by the rat itself, the plague is transmitted to humans by a flea which lives 
on the rat. Without its host the flea soon dies ; thus, to control the bubonic 
plague, the control of rats is compulsory. 

In more direct connection with the farmer, the rat is the carrier of several 
livestock diseases, including pseudo-rabies and trichinosis. Rats are also the 



16 The Green Caldron 

carriers of various kinds of fleas, lice, mites, and many internal parasites. Ac- 
cording to a recent report by the Federal Food and Drug Administration, 
rat contamination causes bigger discounts on the market prices of food grains 
than does insect infestation. This hits our neighbor, the wheat farmer, to the 
tune of a sixty-five-to-ninety-five-cent loss per bushel on his sealed wheat. 

The rat problem is a serious one ! How then, are we to combat them ? Can 
we call upon a Pied Piper to drown all of our rats as he did in the fairy tale ? 
Don't we wish it were that simple! In the past, traps, gases, poisons, cats, 
dogs, and ferrets have all been used with limited effectiveness — but none have 
completely eliminated the rat problem. 

The shortcomings of traps are readily recognized because rats quickly learn 
to avoid them. Gases have proven dangerous and difficult to use. Poisons 
provide an effective first baiting, but 'bait shyness' allows the rat population 
to rebuild. Both gases and poisons are harmful to children, pets, and farm ani- 
mals. Although cats, dogs, and ferrets have been utilized to a certain extent, 
they have not been used on a large scale. 

There are, however, two preliminary measures that can be used to help 
check rats. They are : 

1. Eliminate the rat's breeding ground by cleaning up all rubbish, junk, 
and trash piles around the farmstead, and by placing all firewood 
and lumber on platforms eighteen inches above the ground level. 

2. Shut off the rat's food supply by ratproofing the farm and home build- 
ings with tin or wire mesh around windows, doors, pipe and wire en- 
trances, and foundation walls and studdings. 

But still, rats continue to flourish. Since the beginning of recorded history, 
man has been unable to cope efficiently with these crafty enemies and has been 
forced to live with them, trading food and shelter for unlimited waste and dis- 
ease. 

Modern science has come to our rescue. Biochemists at the University of 
Wisconsin, under the leadership of Professor Karl Link, have spent many 
years studying drugs called anti-coagulants, derived from the hemorrhagic 
sweet-clover disease of cattle. One result of this tremendous research, "War- 
farin," causes a breakdown in the clotting power of blood. Death comes to 
rats from internal hemorrhages after they have eaten warfarin repeatedly 
from five to fourteen days. 

Warfarin does not cause bait shyness as do poisons, and it doesn't harm 
children, pets, or farm animals. Warfarin may be purchased in the concen- 
trated or ready-mixed form at most feed, drug, and hardware stores. Ground 
shelled corn and rolled oats must be mixed with the warfarin concentrate. 

It may seem that I am trying to sell warfarin. I am not ! Warfarin is not 
a product, but rather the active ingredient in many of the well-known rat baits 
on the market today. 

Warfarin offers a scientific approach to rat control. Its effectiveness de- 



December, 1957 17 

pends upon you. You must use a fresh grain bait, one which is highly ac- 
ceptable to the rats, and you must have that bait available at all times. Re- 
member, it costs twenty dollars to keep one rat on your farm for a year, and 
for the cost of keeping that one rat, you can destroy one thousand rats. The 
very minute you begin this warfarin control program on your farm, you will 
become a well-equipped soldier in the war against waste and disease. 



Five, Four, Three, Two, One 

Nelson G. Freeman 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 2 

FOR HUNDREDS OF YEARS THE DESERT LANDS OF THE 
Southwest have lain quietly, beautiful but uninviting to man. The flat, 
barren land with its shifting sands, broken only by an occasional range 
of sharp mountain peaks rising abruptly out of the dust floor, leaves an im- 
pression of a place where man would never attempt to live or work. Yet to- 
day, dotting these endless stretches of waste, there are huge man-made centers 
of activity where the most advanced products of man's scientific conquest are 
tested every day. The once-still mountain peaks now vibrate with the thunder 
of rocket engines, and the clear blue sky is pierced by the orange flames of a 
missile as it leaves the dusty brown desert floor far below it. The words of the 
firing count-down, "Five, four, three, two, one — " have a familiar ring in 
every missileman's ears, but these words represent only a small segment of 
the total picture of the successful firing of a missile. 

One desert center is concerned with the testing of one particular type of 
guided missile, the surface-to-air variety. These missiles are small, sleek 
darts of destruction designed to seek out and destroy, at supersonic speeds, 
enemy bombers, fighters, and other missiles. To check out the performance 
of the missile system and the men who operate it, all of the testing is done 
under simulated battle conditions, such as might occur if an enemy aircraft 
tried to make a sneak attack on a city. This type of testing places a premium 
on speed as well as accurate work by the small, highly trained firing crew. 
The activities of the testing mission are divided into two portions, one prior 
to the day of the shoot and the second on the day of the shoot. 

Before the testing mission can actually start, the missiles must be readied 
for firing. All of today's missiles are complex mechanisms, containing hun- 
dreds of components from many varied industries. In the surface-to-air variety 
all of these precision parts must be squeezed into a very small space. From the 
smooth, toughened metal skin, capable of withstanding speeds of several 
thousands of miles per hour, to the maze of intricate hydraulic and electrical 
lines of her insides, the missile is fitted together like a precision watch. Her 



18 / The Green Caldron 

food, the rocket fuel, is delivered by men dressed in all-rubber suits who pre- 
sent a weird, science-fiction-like scene as they swarm over the missile in their 
highly dangerous chore. Her greedy appetite for such active chemicals as 
fuming nitric red acid and others, all at extremely high pressures, necessitates 
such strange protective devices. To give her a purpose in life, the missile re- 
ceives her final addition, several small but weighty warheads of high explosives, 
which she tenderly holds in her mid-section. When the final preparation is done, 
the missile is set on launching rails to begin her short but active life. In the 
quiet of the evening, prior to firing, she sits like a bird poised for flight, every- 
thing within her silent, as though some geni of tremendous power were 
stoppered inside her, waiting for release. 

The day of firing produces the supreme test of the men and their weapon. 
In the few seconds of flight comes the culmination of the combined efforts of 
the small crew, whose sensitive fingers seem to impart life to the mass of con- 
trolling equipment. The final stage of testings begins as the morning stillness is 
broken by the high-pitched scream of the alert siren. The tension of waiting 
is broken at last, and the firing crew race for their radar control vans on a 
hill behind the missile-launching area. As the last wail of the siren fades away, 
the deep-throated roar of the huge power generators crescendoes. Within 
the radar control vans all is in darkness except for the flashing control and 
panel lights and the steady glow from the radar scope as its beam of orange 
light traces a never-ending circle on a screen before one of the men. The flurry 
of cross-talk on the communications lines is intermingled with the high whine 
of thousands of volts of electricity pulsing through the circuits and with the 
irregular clicking and humming from within the electronic computer as it 
out-thinks the incoming target. The time grows short as the news flashes, 
"Target approaching." All eyes are glued on the radar scope until suddenly 
a voice sounds, "Radar contact with target," and produces a flurry of action 
in the crew. All eyes pounce on the spot of light, handwheels spin, dials change, 
and lights flash from red to green. In an instant the system has selected the 
target and locked onto it to wait out its approach, as a cat might spot his prey 
and follow its every movement until he is ready to spring. As the target 
drone simulating an enemy bomber rushes on, its fate is being sealed on the 
desert floor miles below. A hand reaches out to a console to flip the safety 
cover off the small, lone, silver firing switch. Beads of sweat glisten on the 
foreheads of the crew as the monotoned voice drones into the microphone, 
"Five, four, three, two, one, fire !" 

In the valley below, where the missile sits on its rails, the geni awakens 
with the roar and spit of a thousand dragons and lashes out toward the blue 
heavens above, faster than the human eye can follow, leaving behind only a 
blackened trail of carbon and clouds of dust to blot out the sun's rays. High up 
in the rarefied atmosphere above the earth, the missile rushes on, guided to- 
ward the unsuspecting target drone by the unerring beams from the radar con- 
trol center far below, until the missile comes face to face with her prey, and the 
two are no more. 



December, 1957 19 

Sunburst at Twilight 

Kay Jones 

Rhetoric 102, Reference Paper 



MAN'S LIFE IS MUCH LIKE THE CEASELESS MOVEMENT 
of the sun-star as it carries its light and energy across the heavens of 
space and time. Many people believe that man has a certain pattern 
or path which he is born to follow, and that like the sun, he travels this orbit 
in a manner fashioned by destiny. Thus, the life of Carl Sandburg, the man, 
can be compared with the pathway pursued by the solar star, the sun, as it 
travels from horizon to horizon. 

PRE-DAWN 

The period before dawn is usually considered as a time of indecision, when 
the day, about ready to be born, marks time until it can "find itself." The years 
of boyhood and early youth for Carl Sandburg, although periods of hesitancy 
and unrest, laid the foundation for his later portrayals of human feelings. The 
efifect his family, early jobs, travelling, and the war had upon him can be found 
in the many poems and works he has since created. 

Carl August Sandburg was born of Swedish parents on January 6, 1878 
at 331 East Third Street, Galesburg, Illinois. His father, a blacksmith for the 
Chicago, Burlington, and Quincy Railroad, worked ten hours a day, six days 
a week, for fourteen cents an hour.^ In spite of the meager earnings, never 
more than thirty-five dollars a month, Mr. Sandburg managed to support his 
wife and seven children. The Sandburg family moved several times to different 
parts of Galesburg, and then settled for a while in the home on Day Street 
built by the elder Sandburg with the help of Carl and his younger brother 
Martin. Carl's father, a "black" Swede (dark-haired), was a naturalized 
citizen of the United States and a staunch supporter of the Republican party .^ 
When Carl was thirteen he was confirmed in the Swedish Lutheran Holy Evan- 
gelical Church, where his family were faithful and active members.^ 

"Sholly," as his father called him, attended the Galesburg public schools 
through the eighth grade, and the Swedish Lutheran summer school for four 
years. In 1891 his schooling was interrupted because of lack of money. 
His first job, driving a milk wagon, took him across Galesburg each morning, 
and through the Knox College campus, where some of the famed Lincoln- 
Douglas debates had taken place just twenty years before Carl was born. 
Perhaps it was at this time in his life, when he began to hear many stories 
about Lincoln, that there was ignited a spark of interest in and devotion to 
the man who led the nation during the Civil War years. Certainly, the Lincoln 
touch was still felt. The very presence of men who had heard, seen, met, and 



20 / The Green Caldron 

associated with Lincoln influenced Carl and aroused his imaginative spirit.^ 
Various kinds of jobs followed between 1891 and 1898 for the future Lin- 
coln biographer. Working in the theater as a scene-shifter and small-bit actor, 
helping on the neighboring farms in the summer, learning to be a tinsmith, 
and doing other odd jobs were all a part of Carl's youth. As a bootblack in the 
corner barbershop, Carl again came in contact with men who had known 
Lincoln, and there he heard many heated political discussions which furthered 
his interest in the great man. 

Much to his father's dismay, when Carl was sixteen he decided to support 
the Democratic party, since he was strongly in favor of the controversial 
William Jennings Bryan. The next year, 1895, Sandburg started wandering 
throughout the Middle West. He travelled as a hobo, rode the rails, picked 
up jobs as they came, and ate when he could afford it. Undoubtedly, these 
experiences afifected his outlook on life and his attitude toward men, and in- 
fluenced his later writings. "Varied experience in manual labor and more sus- 
tained contacts with more violent aspects. . . of life motivated his devotion 
to untraditional and unacademic verse. . ."^ 

In 1898, at the outbreak of the Spanish- American War, Carl enlisted in 
Company C of the Sixth Illinois Volunteers. During the six months he served 
in Puerto Rico, he had an arrangement to act as a war correspondent for 
the Galesburg Evening Mail, sending long letters that told what he saw and 
heard and related the adventures of the Galesburg troops in camp and on the 
march. These were his first published works.^ This was the beginning. 

SUNRISE 

The sunrise of Carl Sandburg's literary life was slow and methodical, 
often clouded over with the disappointments and setbacks sometimes needed to 
challenge and stimulate the creative mind. After the war, Sandburg returned 
to Galesburg to enter Lombard College on a one-year scholarship offered by 
the college "in recognition for his valorous services in the late war."' He 
worked at odd jobs to pay for his books and tuition, doing janitor work at 
the gymnasium, ringing the bells for classes, tutoring, and working part time 
in the Galesburg fire department. He was captain of the basketball team and 
editor-in-chief of the college paper. "Cully," as his college and war friends 
called him, went to college for four years, but during a period of unrest left 
school before he was to graduate, in his senior year. In 1904, fifty copies of 
his first poetical efforts, In Reckless Ectasy, were edited and printed with the 
help of Phillip G. Wright, professor of English at Lombard. These experi- 
ments, as Sandburg calls them, were not accepted enthusiastically by the 
literary world.^ 

Another series of jobs followed his college career. Selling "stereoscopic 
views" enabled him to travel again. The blue-eyed Swedish descendant was 
restless and unsettled, and for the next ten years roved from job to job. Most 
of his work was with newspapers or magazines. This was another learning 



December, 1957 21 

period in "Cully's" life. He read furiously, observed continually, listened 
attentively, and worked incessantly, constantly trying to find himself. 

In 1907, he met her: Lillian Steichen, whom he called Paula, was a Phi 
Beta Kappa and a Latin teacher at Princeton, Illinois. They were married on 
June 15, 1908, creating an inspiring and life-long union. His job-jumping 
continued from newspaper to newspaper in Milwaukee and Chicago. His 
evenings were devoted to writing, both prose and poetry. During the day he 
was constantly learning, both from his newspaper jobs and his political at- 
tachments. The results of this learning took the forms of lecture tours, cur- 
rent political articles, stories, and poetry. 

In 1914, he published Poetry and was given the two-hundred-dollar Helen 
Haire Levinson Prize for the poem "Chicago" in this book. His sun-star 
was rising in the sky. Two years later, Chicago Poems was published ; it in- 
cluded such poems as "Under a Telephone Pole," "Fog," and "Buttons," In 
1917 he joined the stafif of the Chicago Daily News, of which he was a mem- 
ber until 1932. Things were beginning to look up for the 'Prairie Poet.' He 
was sent as a correspondent for the Newspaper Enterprise Association to 
Norway and Sweden for six months during World War I. That same year 
Cornhuskers, which included such poems as the famous "Cool Tombs" and 
"Fire Dreams," was published. After the war, at the peak of the racial tur- 
moil in Chicago, The Chicago Race Riots was published by his friend, Alfred 
Harcourt, who had just organized Harcourt, Brace and Howe. Sandburg's 
work was reaching the public — he was being noticed ! 

HIGH NOON 

"Cully's" rise to fame was reaching the midway point in his life — high noon. 
During the years from 1920 to 1935, Sandburg continued to produce the poems, 
prose, and writings for which he is famous. Although he did much travelling, 
lecturing, and singing, he still worked for the Daily News. Smoke and Steel, 
his book of poems published in 1920, was a study of industrial America and 
its effect on the common man. In his biography of Sandburg, Millett makes 
the remark that here the "poet himself speaks out in defense of a democratic 
idealism threatened in our time by foes without and foes within." ^ Then came 
the books for children, Rootabaga Stories in 1922 and Rootabaga Pigeons in 
1923. These books were written, in part, for his own three daughters, Janet, 
Helga, and Margaret. More poetry was coming from the heart and through 
the fingers of Sandburg. Slabs of the Sunburnt West, published in 1922, was 
dedicated to Helga and contained such poems as the title poem and "The 
Windy City." 

In the process of being written was Abraham Lincoln'- The Prairie Years, 
which was copyrighted in 1926. This manuscript, containing eleven hundred 
sheets and standing two feet high, was the beginning of one of the most thor- 
ough and illustrious biographies of Lincoln ever written.^" One year later, in 
1927, The American Songbag was published. Carl had been collecting songs 



22 The Green Caldron 

for this book for almost thirty years.^^ He included in it the songs he sang 
and played at home and for lectures. The guitar had long been a part of his 
life. He was ''probably prouder of his horny, string-plucked fingertips than 
all the honors acquired ... as biographer, folk singer, and historian."^^ Six 
banjo lessons when he was a teenager and three vocal lessons when he was at 
Lombard College were the only formal musical training he ever had. 

Personal grief came to Sandburg in 1926, when he was informed of the 
death of his mother, Clara Sandburg. She had lived for and inspired Carl 
for seventeen long years after the death of her husband. The "old man with 
the scythe," as Sandburg called death, besides taking two of his younger bro- 
thers with diphtheria on the same day, when he was thirteen, claimed a younger 
sister in the early years of her marriage, and his other younger brother Martin 
in 1945. This left Mary, two years older than Sandburg, Carl, and Esther, 
another, younger sister. ^^ 

Although his writing as a reporter for the Daily Nctvs still continued, there 
was time for the compiling of another book of poems, Good Morning, America. 
This book made the literary world even more aware of his poetic powers 
than previously. Carl listed his "Tentative (First Model) Definitions of Poe- 
try," some of which are "Poetry is a pack-sack of invisible keepsakes" and 
"Poetry is the achievement of the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits."^* These 
short statements aptly describe Sandburg's opinion of the free verse which he 
writes. The poem for school children, 

Splinter 
The voice of the last cricket 
across the first frost 
is one kind of good-by. 
It is so thin a splinter of singing. 

is characteristic of Sandburg's short, expressive, and homey style.^^ His 
philosphy of life is portrayed in the poem "Phizzog" when he says 

This face you got. . . . 

This here phizzog . . . 



Somebody said, "Here's yours, now go 

see what you can do with it." . . . 
"No goods exchanged after being taken 

away" 

This face you got." 

The Phi Beta Kappa award from Harvard presented to Sandburg in 1928 
when he read his new poem "Good Morning, America," started the long list 
of honors he was to receive from all over the world in the years to come. 
There were four more books in the next two years. Rootabaga Country and 
Steichen the Photographer came out in 1929, followed by Potato Face and 
Early Moon, which were published in 1930. Steichen the Photographer was a 
short biography of Lillian Sandburg's brother, the nationally famous photog- 
rapher and plant-breeder. Before Sandburg retired from the Daily News in 
1932, another book was published, Mary Lincoln, Wije and Widow. 



December, 1957 23 

Sandburg's retirement did not mean a slackening-up in writing or work- 
ing. It simply meant that now he had more time to compile information for 
his next biography on Lincoln, to lecture at colleges or meetings, and to write 
more poetry. He moved his family to a lakeside home called "Chickaming" 
at Habert, Michigan, where the poems. The People, Yes, published in 1936, 
were written. By 1935 Carl started the tremendous task of sorting through, 
discarding, arranging, and compiling his notes for the next volumes of Lin- 
coln's biography. He was fifty-seven years old. His sun had passed its 
zenith. 

SUNBURST AT TWILIGHT 

Although Sandburg was now in the sunset years of his life, these were 
some of his most creative years. For four years he worked on the four-vol- 
ume biography, Abraham Lincoln: The War Years. During that period he 
still found time to go on lecture tours. With the help of his family, friends, 
and business associates, the biography was published in 1939, seventy-fo'ur 
years after Lincoln's assassination. The manuscript, containing 1,175,000 
words, one quarter of a million more than the Bible, was written on 5,400 
sheets of paper and stood three and a half feet high.^^ This work was the be- 
ginning of Carl August Sandburg's ''sunburst at twilight." 

Following this publication he was honored by many schools, colleges, and 
literary foundations. The War Years was awarded the Pulitzer Prize in 
history. ^^ Among the many awards received were honorary doctorates of litera- 
ture from Harvard, Yale, Lombard College, Knox, Lafayette College, Dart- 
mouth, Northwestern, New York University, and Wesleyan University in 
Connecticut.^^ He was voted a member of the Natoinal Institute of Arts and 
Letters, made a member of the editorial board of National Labor Defense 
Council, and awarded a medal for his Lincoln biography by the Roosevelt 
Memorial Association.-*^ Sandburg was a definitely established figure in the 
literary world, and the eye of the public was on him. 

At the outbreak of World War II, he again wrote articles for newspapers, 
doing his bit in the fight for peace. In 1942, Home Front Memo, a collection 
of pamphlets, speeches, broadcasts, newspaper columns, legends, poems, and 
photograph texts, was made available to the public. One of the popular news- 
paper columns included was "The Man with the Broken Fingers," a startingly 
gruesome and shocking poem about ''Norwegian will pitted against Nazi will," 
which showed how a man was cruelly made to die a thousand deaths unless 
he betrayed his country. 

The Sandburg family moved to Connermara Farm near Flat Rock, North 
Carolina, where they now live. There Paula Sandburg is in charge of the 
248-acre farm, her nationally-known and respected goat herd, and all book- 
keeping, with the help of her two daughters, Margaret and Janet.^^ 

After working on it for four years, Sandburg released Remembrance Rock 
in 1948. This 10,067-page historical novel contains much of the American 



24 The Green Caldron 

philosophy, ideals, social problems, and other qualities suggested by his term, 
"the American Dream." ^^ Complete Poems was published in 1950. By 1953, 
the first part of his autobiography was completed and published ; Always the 
Young Strangers deals mostly with his younger days. The second volume of 
his autobiography, tentatively called Ever the Winds of Chance, is about half 
completed. 

In January 1956, a party was held for Carl Sandburg in Chicago to cele- 
brate his seventy-eighth birthday. In the article "Spirit of 78" Sandburg's 
prescription for happiness was listed. His desires were "To be out of jail, to 
eat and sleep regular, to get what I write printed in a free country for free 
people, and to have a little love in the home and esteem outside the home."^^ 
Despite his age, he continues to give lectures. Usually, his audiences can 
have their pick of three lectures, "An Evening with Carl Sandburg, " "Ameri- 
can Folk Songs and Folk Tales," or "Romanticism and Realism in American 
Life and Letters." Early in 1956, it was publicly announced that Sandburg's 
private library and files had been purchased by the University of Illinois for 
thirty thousand dollars. To Sandburg the most valuable part of this library 
are the manuscripts of The Prairie Years and The War Years as he gave them 
to the copyist. 

"Bright vocabularies are transient as rainbows."^^ These are the words 
by which Sandburg defends his style of writing. His early style was described 
as "unmistakable for its manly use of strong, everyday vocabulary. "^^ His 
writings were characterized as "primitive style, repetitious, plain descriptions 
of things and people," but they contain "common wisdom, folly, popular jokes, 
and legends held together with tolerance and lyrical affirmation."^^ Millett 
feels that Sandburg's "brutality and crudeness. . , were deliberate gestures of 
a fine and feeling nature."^^ Sandburg is American. He is the "Prairie Poet." 
His very being belongs to man — the trials, joys, fears, sorrows, and hopes that 
make man what he is. Carl Sandburg could be called a dreamer, but he is too 
practical, is too aware of reality, and has too much common sense to let his 
life be guided completely by the intangible and fanciful. His life is full and 
fruitful. 

^Karl Detzer, Carl Sandburg (New York, 1941), p. 10. 

' Earnest Elmo Calkins, "The Education of an American Poet," The Saturday Review 
of Literature, XXXVI (January 17, 1953), 9. 
' Detzer, p. 26. 

* Detzer, p. 18. 

"F. B. Millett, Contemporary American Authors (New York, 1940), p. 139. 

• Detzer, p. 45. 
' Ibid, p. 47. 

« Detzer, p. 53-54. 
" op. cit., p. 140. 

""Sandburg Delivers Speech," Champaign News-Gazette (March 9, 1956). 
" Detzer, p. 183. 

""Biographical Sketch," The Saturday Review of Literature, XXXI (October 9, 
1948), 14. 

"Mrs. Esther Wachs, interview, July 12, 1956. 



December, 1957 25 

"Carl Sandburg, Good Morning, America (New York, 1928), p. vii. 

"^ Ibid, p. 108. 

" Good Morning, America, p. 143. 

" Detzer, p. 3. 

^^ Ibid, -p. 190. 

" Ibid. 

^ Millet, p. 40. 

^"A Visit with Carl Sandburg," Look, (July 10, 1956), 95-100. 

^ William Soskin, "The American Dream Panorama," The Saturday Review of Litera- 
ture, XXXI (October 9, 1948), 14. 

^"Spirit of 78," Newszveek, XLVIII (January 16, 1956), 48. 

^* Good Morning, America, p. 239. 

^"Big Shoulders," Scholastic, XLIX (October 14, 1946), 20. 

^ Selden Rodman, "Biographical Sketch," The Saturday Review of Literature, XXXIII 
(November 18, 1950), 22>. 

=" Millett, p. 139. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

"A Visit with Carl Sandburg." Look, (July 10, 1956), 95-100. 

"Big Shoulders." Scholastic, XLIX (October 14, 1946), 20. 

"Biographical Note." Scholastic, XLII (February 8, 1943), 18. 

Calkins, Earnest Elmo. "The Education of an American Poet." The Saturday Reviezv of 

Literature, XXXVI (January 17, 1953), 9-10. 
Detzer, Karl. Carl Sandburg. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Co., 1941. 
Emerson, W. A. Jr. "At Home : All Brightness and Whiteness." Newsweek, XLV 

(February 14, 1955), 53. 
McGill, R. "Most Unforgettable Character I've Met." The Reader's Digest, LXIV 

(May, 1954), 109-113. 
Millett, F. B. Contemporary American Authors. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Co., 

1940. 
"Old Workhorse in New Harness : A Columnist." Nezvsu'cck, XVII (April 7, 1941), 59-60. 
"Poet Holds 'Informal Court.'" The Daily Illini, (March 9, 1956). 
Rodman, Selden. "Biographical Sketch." The Saturday Rcviczv of Literature, XXXIII 

(November 18, 1950), 14. 
Sandburg, Carl. Chicago Poems. New York : Henry Holt and Co., 1916. 

Cornhuskers. New Y'ork: Henry Holt and Co., 1919. 

Home Front Memo. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Co., 1943. 

Smoke and Steel; Slabs of the Sunburnt West; Good Morning, America. 

New York : Harcourt, Brace and Co., 1928. 
"Sandburg, Carl." Collier's Encyclopedia, 1955 ed. XVII. 
"Sandburg, Carl." Encyclopedia Americana, 1955 ed. XXIV. 
"Sandburg Creates Memories — Besieged by Well- Wishers." The Daily Illini, (March 10, 

1956). 
"Sandburg Delivers a Speech." Champaign Neivs-Gazette, (March 9, 1956). 
Soskin, William. "The American Dream Panorama." The Saturday Review of Literature, 

XXXI (October 9, 1948), 14. 
"Spirit of '78." Newszveek. XLVIII (January 16. 1956), 48. 
Wachs, Esther Sandburg. Interview on July 12, 1956. 



26 The Green Caldron 

Grand Canyon Sunrise 

Variations on a Theme 

Richard Koch 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 1 

"The drums of the sun never get tired, and first off every morning, the drums 
of the sun perform an introduction of the dawn here." Carl Sandburg 

AT PIMA POINT: THROUGH THE TREES AT THREE A.M. 
was a black hole; no light, no shape, just black. Before life came into 
the world there was no light, no shape, just black ; a black hole. Reach- 
ing down into the bowels of the earth, or maybe not, who knows ? Who could 
have lanterns for eyes? Who has eyes? Who needs eyes? — Just feel it. The 
earth's tongue has been clipped, and there is no sound. God worked here. "Be 
still and speak my glory." 

At Yavapai Point : The priests in Shiva Temple sleep, like Wotan dead 
on his throne. They'll soon awake as the drums start to beat. 

The stars tiptoe through the holes in the sky, and the misty night whispers 
off the rocks. Over the damson cliffs the sun's heralds come, marching up 
the cloud streaks, while God pours gold on the mountaintops. The gold 
splashes onto the Great Thumb Point, and pokes it up out of the plum hole 
fifteen miles to the east. And the light pink cliff-tops march from west to east 
in giant stride, but they tread feather light, for the silence must be. 

Up from their beds come the rock-giants now, the summer sun finding 
each one in turn and shining its pink-gold light on their faces. Then the sun 
shakes the Shiva priests off their pallets for another day of prayer, and the 
lights come on in the temple — the burning golden candles. 

The chasm yawns, and shows its quicksilver teeth down there as in another 
world, through the mist of time. The nearest cliff begins to fall this way as 
the sun forces a shadow between it and the canyon wall. And other cliffs, 
rock-giants, follow as the sun calls roll. And the cliffs keep marching. 

Then the gold runs off the mountaintops to fill the canyon, and the rock 
fuses with the gold and flushes saffron and emerald till the gold spills into the 
river to make a silent steam that fills the canyon. And the legions are mute 
now, while the sun makes its slow, slow flight. 

"He told himself, This may be something else than what I see when I look 
^how do I know? For each man sees himself in the Grand Canyon — each one 
makes his own Canyon before he comes, each one brings and carries away his 
own Canyon — who knows and how do I know?" Carl. Sandburg 



December, 1957 27 

The Old Man and the Canes 

Sally Langhaar 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 12 

EVERY AFTERNOON HE SAT ON THE PARK BENCH, HOLD- 
ing in his aged hands at least four wooden canes. These canes were 
not for sale; they were not for rent; yet, he never held less than four. 
Every afternoon Fd walk past this old man. We never spoke; instead, we 
just gazed a little bewilderedly at each other. I might say that I thought he 
was a little peculiar ; but perhaps he thought the same about me. After all, 
I was like a new bud on a plant and he had begun to wither. 

His face was creased by wrinkles. There were worry wrinkles between 
his wiry black eyebrows, and there were frown wrinkles across his forehead. 
There were smile wrinkles at the corners of his mouth and at the corners 
of his meditating eyes. The depth of these smile wrinkles told me that 
during his lifetime he had laughed and loved more often than he had frowned 
or worried. But why didn't he laugh any more? And why -did he always 
have so many canes? 

I was walking through the park one afternoon, when he got up from his 
bench and began to walk towards me. He walked slowly and deliberately, 
using only one cane to steady him. The other three he carried, as usual, 
under his left arm. As he approached me, gradually a smile came over his 
face, and his eyes began to beam, 

"T see you every day," he began, "and I wondered if you wouldn't accept 
one of my canes as a gift? You see, I make them myself. It's my hobby." 

I looked at the canes, and they were the most beautiful canes Fd ever 
seen ! Small, intricate and detailed patterns of animals, people, and land- 
scapes were carved into the wood. Why, these canes would require hours 
of what most people would consider tedious work ! And this man didn't even 
know me. Why, he didn't even know my name ! 

He must have noticed my hesitancy, for he persisted, "Please, Fd like 
you to have one." 

"Well, thank you so very much!" I exclaimed. "They're beautiful!" 

Then, he proceeded to hand me the most beautiful by far of the four canes. 
As I took the cane I noticed his long, slender fingers and bulging veins. 
Those hands had been very busy for many years. Maybe he had once been 
a pianist or a sculptor. Such thoughts faded ; and I excused myself, thanked 
the kind old man, told him Fd see him the next day, and hurried on to work. 

I didn't know what Fd do with the cane, but a few of my questions 
had been answered. This man was lonely. He probably lived by himself, 
and these canes were all he had. They meant everything to him ; if he could 



28 The Green Caldron 

give them away and see the delight and happiness of the receiver, he had, 
no doubt, fulfilled his purpose in making them. 

The next afternoon, as I had promised, I walked through the park. No 
longer did we just gaze bewilderedly at each other. This time we smiled. 
We smiled as if to say, "You know, I understand you now." No longer 
was this just the old man with the canes. Now, he was the kind and lonely 
old man with the beautifully hand-carved canes. 

Away with the A's 

ToBYE Black 

Rhetoric 101, Theme 2 

THE PRESENT SYSTEM OF ISSUING STUDENTS GRADES TO 
show what they have comprehended in a course is false. The grading 
system is a screen for the person who wants a degree and a handicap 
for the individual who wants to learn. 

Most colleges and universities demand a good scholastic average as one 
of the basic requirements for entrance. Many of the wiser schools consider 
college board examinations more important than high school grades. Any 
person of average intelligence can cram for a test and receive a B, but one 
cannot cram for a college board examination which is a test of one's intelli- 
gence, and how one puts the knowledge he has to work. Yet even though 
the student wishes he could take the time to think theories out as required in 
the entrance exam, he finds that he must devote the time instead to memoriza- 
tion of terms that he will forget in the next month. At present I am taking a 
pre-med zoology course in which I have memorized at least a thousand Latin 
terms. I cannot explain the functions of any of the organs in detail, but be- 
cause I know the names of the organs, I can get an A on the test ; I feel like 
a parrot. 

The grading system is a perfect blufif for the person who doesn't want an 
education but merely a degree. He devotes twenty-five hours a week to swal- 
lowing book terminology and spits it out on the test ; the actual meaning has 
never been digested. At the end of four years, he receives his degree, and is 
one of the millions of quacks who profess they are educated men. 

I believe that the grading system should be completely abolished. A com- 
prehensive examination at the end of each semester should be the determining 
factor in whether the student passes or fails. If the instructor feels that the 
student has understood the material and can use it in either a practical or orig- 
inal manner, depending on the course, the teacher should issue a passing 
grade. It is a tremendous achievement to be able to understand the basic ele- 
ments of a subject; the student that does comprehend them is ready for the 
next course. 



December, 1957 29 

What Price Law Enforcement? 

Leon Simon 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 6 

THE WHITE CITIZENS' COUNCILS OF THE SOUTH ARE OR- 
ganized primarily for one purpose. That purpose is to oppose and fight 
against the decision of the Supreme Court of the United States concern- 
ing segregation in the public schools. Some integrationists believe the White 
Citizens' Councils should be outlawed, since they openly oppose the law es- 
tablished by the Supreme Court's decision. Other people, including many 
segregationists and even some integrationists, believe that the councils should 
be allowed to exist as long as they do not use or advocate violence. 

The actual issue of integration is relatively unimportant in the controversy 
concerning the proposed banishment of the councils. The main argument in 
the controversy involves the question of whether or not the councils have a 
constitutional right to exist. The constitutional rights in question are freedom 
of speech and the rights of petition and assembly. 

For the purpose of this discussion freedom of speech shall be defined as 
the right of an individual or of a group to express his or their thoughts as 
long as they do not act to infringe upon the rights of others. The right of pe- 
tition and assembly shall be defined as the right of a group to assemble and 
work towards a common legal goal by the means of petition and through 
other legal means. 

The freedom of speech of the councils has been disclaimed by the councils' 
opponents on the contention that by opposing the law the councils infringe 
on the rights of the Negroes who are unlawfully segregated. It is a meaningless 
fanatical cry to claim that those councils which peacefully oppose the law 
through legal means are actually infringing on anybody's rights. If 
peaceful vocal disapproval were actually infringement on the rights of others, 
a person could lose his freedom of speech by speaking against the right of 
women to vote. He would be infringing on the rights of women in precisely 
the same manner as the citizens' councils are said to infringe on the rights of 
the Negroes. Shortly after the right of women to vote was established, many 
men spoke against it, but there certainly was no widespread belief that they 
were abusing their freedom of speech in doing so. 

The question then arises as to whether or not it is legal to work against 
a federal law. It certainly is legal ! An outstanding example of a successful 
fight against federal law was the fight against prohibition which ended with 
the repeal of the prohibition amendment. The laws of our country are 
flexible and continually changing. Few people question the right of others 
to fight against existing laws, such as those concerning capital punishment, 
tax laws, and tariff laws. A law established by a Supreme Court decision 



30 The Green Caldron 

is different in nature from a law established by legislative action of Congress, 
but even laws established by the Supreme Court are not so iron-bound and 
unyielding that they cannot be questioned and possibly even altered by those 
governed by the laws. 

Those who would banish the White Citizens' Councils choose to ignore 
two of the basic rights of American citizens in order to hasten the enforcement 
of a law. The thoughtful observer may foresee the dire consequences of 
this hasty action. If the rights of the members of the White Citizens' Councils 
are nullified, it will set a precedent which will endanger the basic rights of 
every American citizen. That precedent will be the nullification of basic 
rights in order to facilitate quicker and more efficient enforcement of other 
laws. When this happens America will cease to be the great free country 
it is today. 



Sketch 

JuTTA Anderson 

Rhetoric 101, Theme 12 

EVERY WEDNESDAY— AT THREE— THEY WOULD COME. 
Every Wednesday, we could hear their feeble stumbling, their giggling 
and chuckling, coming through the garden into the house. Anna, the 
maid, would open the door and tell them that the table was set in the second 
dining room. Every Wednesday — at three — Maman had coffee hour for her 
lady friends. 

Papa, in his formal and a little bit uncomfortable suit, Maman, in her 
silky afternoon dress, and we three girls, bored, but having surrendered to 
the ceremony, would await them in the living room. Papa would bow over 
every hand, kiss it, and assure each of these old ladies of his most exquisite 
delight to see her. Maman would accept the somewhat tired, tepid greetings 
as a queen accepts the cheerings of her subjects. We girls, according to 
strict etiquette, would kiss all those old, faded, flabby, dried cheeks, and show 
our best smiles. Each time, after this welcome scene. Papa would excuse him- 
self and disappear, not without my sister whispering into my ear, "Lucky 
person !" 

At 3:15, Anna would open the sliding doors to the dining room where the 
table was set : every time, one little tiny glass of sherry ; every time, coffee 
with whipping cream ; every time, two different coffee cakes. 

Then we would take our seats. My sisters and I, placed carefully among 
the ladies, had no other social obligation than to pass coffee, whipping cream, 
sugar, or cake plates up or down the table, and to say : "How wonderful !" or 
'Tsn't that interesting!" or "How delightful, ma cherie!" at the appropriate 



December, 1957 31 

time. Sometimes they would ask me to play the piano and afterwards would 
tell me in flowery words how wonderful my playing was ; even old Mrs. Ree- 
ger would smile at me and comment on the music, though we all knew that 
because of her bad hearing she could not have appreciated a single sound. 
They always talked about the same good old time, Vv^hen they were young, 
their husbands still alive with their future before them, and when they had 
seemed to have so much more of everything. One of them would let drop a 
little lost tear, Maman would say, "But my dear !" and the others would get 
thoughtful and maybe a little bit sad. Their murmurs would flow on like a 
rivulet in the autumn not expecting a storm any more ; their tired old shaky 
hands would continue to play with the napkins or the coffee spoons. They 
would sit there quietly, with shy smiles, nodding heads, inward looking eyes — ■ 
ghosts for whom time no longer existed. 

Exactly at five o'clock, they would get up, thank Maman in extravagant 
words for the most superb two hours, accept all those cheek-kisses from us 
girls, and shuffle away — just to come back every Wednesday — at three — to 
Hainan's coffee hour. 



Put the Man Together 

Leah Meyer 
Rhetoric Placement Test 



DR. ETHEL ALPENFELS, THE WELL-KNOWN ANTHROPOL- 
ogist, spoke to a group of high school students recently on their role 
in society. After discussing the goals and the problems of her ado- 
lescent audience. Dr. Alpenfels related an anecdote which I consider to be 
invaluable to any teenager or adult who doesn't realize his individual worth 
and importance in our modern society. 

On an especially humid and uncomfortable day, the doctor explained, a 
young child was annoying his weary father. "What can I do?" the youngster 
begged. "Give me something to play with. Daddy." The parent, wishing to 
be rid of the child, reached for a map of the world and cut it into varied shapes. 

"Here," the lad's father said, "take this puzzle and see if you can put 
it back together." 

Jumping at the unusual plaything, the child soon became engrossed in it, 
while his father relaxed and eagerly anticipated a few hours of peace. 

In a few moments, however, the boy returned with the map, which was 
perfectly pieced together. His father was amazed. "How did you do this?" 
he demanded. 



^2. The Green Caldron 

"Oh," his son replied, "there was a picture of a man on the other side of 
the map. So I just put the man together and the world came out all right !" 

With this. Dr. Alpenfels concluded her speech, but each of us in the 
audience left remembering her important advice — "Just put the man together 
and the world comes out all right." It was a child's thought, and yet it is 
often difficult for the adults of today's society and those of us who will be 
adults of tomorrow's society to remember the importance of man in relation 
to the world. Men such as David Reisman, one of the authors of The Lonely 
Crowd, have emphasized the problem of conformity. The Corporation Man 
also deals with this subject. For example, what are the citizens of our own 
country doing to create the feeling of individuality in American education 
and politics? 

In our school systems too much importance is placed on being "a regular 
guy." Joe College and Betty Coed seem to have over-run the campuses of 
our country. Children are enrolled in our elementary schools at the age of 
five and usually progress upward on the educational ladder until they reach 
the end of their compulsory education. Group living and social studies are 
stressed in the child's elementary and high-school education, but is he taught 
to be an individual ? I believe that there are too many cases in which he does 
not learn this important lesson. How much more satisfactory the process of 
learning would be if every student were allowed to progress at his own rate, 
feeling neither superior nor inferior to his group, but rather, feeling the im- 
portance of his individuality. 

Our country's political afifairs, too, stress the crowd rather than the 
human being. "Join the bandwagon and vote for our candidate !" is the 
campaign cheer, rather than "Think for yourself and vote wisely." Perhaps 
this too relates back to our educational system. Learning to reason and think 
for himself should be today's student's major lesson. 

A better world, a hopeful future — these I believe could belong to pos- 
terity if only we would begin to realize the importance of "I" rather than 
"we." If our "indiflference to being different" can be corrected, I believe we 
will have accomplished Dr. Alpenfel's dream. Like the young boy, we will 
have "put the man together" and the world will "come out all right !" 



Rhet as Writ 

but if it hadn't been for that little wreck, I might still be driving wrccklessly. 



Running around the corner and tripping over a dog with a trayful of milkshakes was an 
everyday occurence. 



The new freshman's expressions are absolutely uphauling. 



At 12:10 the lieutenant was going to call the bus terminal when it drove up. 



This was proved last year when the all-freshman average was 3.178, and the all-pledge 
average was 3.921. The difference, as one can readily see, is almost two-tenth of a grade 
point. 



What good does the football player himself get out of football? He may earn noteriety, 
which may prove useful to him in later life. 



I plan to build a large ranch house with French widows in it. 



At the present time there are some 28 different programs for the prospective service man 
divided into two sections. 



The other employees would enter the uffice with simile of accomplishment and their belts 
loose. 



I like all kinds of water sports, especially water polio. 



Colleague : a person whom another attended college with. 



Also, if traveling makes one sick, the airline companies provide a personalized paper bag 
for your disposal which is just one of many luxuries of traveling by air. 



Thus, the main reason for existence is to keep life from getting boring. 



If everyone would speak the same language, how could there be any secret weapons? 



The Contributors 



Dale Lytton — Flora 

Mike Sovereign — Western Springs 

Judith Raphael — Maine Twp. 

James H. Stein, Jr. — George School, Pa. 

Sue Hatch — Oak Park 

Frank Kaspar — Crystal Lake 

Sara Crew — Oak Park-River Forest 

Stanley House — Southwest, Kansas City, Mo. 

Max Flandorfer — U. S. Navy, G.E.D. 

Sue Fullerton — Sparta Twp. 

Valerie ISeville — York Community 

Mark Zimmerman — McHenry 

Nelson G. Freeman — Springfield Technical, Springfield, Mats. 

Kay Jones — Dewey 

Richard Koch — Austin 

Sally Langhaar — Urbana 

Tohye Black — Oak Park-River Forest 

Leon Simon — West Aurora 

Jaffa Anderson — Gymnasium, Graz, Austria 

Leah Meyer — Bloom Twp. 






Fhe Green Caldron 

A MAGAZINE OF FRESHMAN WRITING 



• 



CONTENTS 



Lloyd L. Lehni Dear Mr. Ford 1 

Douglas Royer: Nature's Beauty 2 

Rae Lesser: Brave New World 3 

Ward Malisch: What Happened to Christmas? 5 

Nancy Cohernour: Strong Will Conquers 6 

David Abrahamson: America's Stannchest Ally 7 

Leo Kruenegel: Breathless 8 

Rae Lesser: Humanity versus the Slide Rule 9 

David Chambers: Sputnik: For War or Peace? 10 

Max Flandorfer: The Hiding People 12 

James Hockenhull: The Tower 13 

Virginia Vida: They Needed Affection 13 

Stephen Weiser: Bloomington, Indiana 15 

Myma Levine: The Emancipation Proclamation 16 

Andrew Sedlock: Escape 19 

Carl F. Abegg: The "Troublesome" Veto 20 

fienneft £. Ca(e«; Travelogue 21 

Fronne Edivards: Nothing Phoney with Salinger 23 

John N. Rutger: The Struggle for the Location of the Univcrsily of Illinoii> . 24 

Rhet as Writ 32 



Vol. 27, No. 3 March, 1958 



UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 



,V-^Y5^i: 



T 



HE Green Caldron is published four times a year by the 
Rhetoric Staff at the University of Illinois. Material is chosen 
from themes and examinations written by freshmen in the Uni- 
versity. Permission to publish is obtained for all full themes, 
including those published anonymously. Parts of themes, how- 
ever, are published at the discretion of the committee in charge. 
Members of the committee in charge of The Green Caldron 
are Phyllis Rice, Edward Levy, David Gladish, George Estey, 
and Carl Moon, Editor. 



Dear Mr. Ford 



Lloyd L, Lehn 
Rhetoric loo. Theme 5 

I 

DEAR TENNESSEE ERNIE FORD: 
I have seen you start your television show by coming on stage and 
shouting, "Hello, all you pea-pickers." Last summer I was employed 
in a pea-canning factory. The workers of this factory and I came to the con- 
clusion that you don't know anything about the preparation of peas. Peas are 
packed and not picked, Mr. Ford. I would like to explain pea packing to you. 

The factory at which I was employed is located near Mendota, Illinois. It 
is a division of the California Packing Corporation. Workers in the factory 
came from throughout the United States. Approximately 400 of us lived in 
barracks near the factory. The remainder of the employees were scattered on 
twenty-two farm stations in the surrounding area. Each farm crew consisted 
of approximately twenty men. 

Work on the farms started as soon as the early-morning dew was off the 
ground. The pea vines were cut with a mower and then loaded on wagons and 
taken to the viner. Here the vines and peas were separated. The vines were 
stacked in a huge pile and later used as silage. The peas were loaded onto 
trucks and transported to the main factory. 

Upon arrival at the factory, the peas, dirty from being out in the fields, 
entered a system of flowing water which washed them. The water entered this 
system as clear drinking water but left as a dirty black stream. The volume of 
water used in this operation was so great that the factory maintained its own 
purification plant. The peas leaving this bath were separated by their different 
weights ; the light peas floated on the surface of the water and the heavy peas 
sank to the bottom. The light peas were sold as inferior peas. The peas con- 
tinued on to where they were spread out on wide white rubber belts. Women 
sitting beside these belts removed the discolored peas and discarded them. The 
peas were then conveyed to the hoppers above the canning machines. 

As the peas were put into the cans, they were mixed with a salt and sugar 
solution. The sealed cans were loaded into carts, each cart containing about 
1000 cans. The carts were placed into retorts where the peas were cooked for 
an hour. As the carts were removed from the retorts, they were sent to the 
"scrambler," which took the cans out of the carts and sent them to the labeler. 
The labeler was the most delicate machine on the can line, and it caused the 
most trouble ; however, when it was working properly, the labeler could label 
four to five cans per second. The cans then rolled to the boxer, which put 
twenty-four cans in each box as fast as the cans were labeled. The boxes were 
stacked on pallets and removed to the warehouse for shipment. 

The above is the operation of only one can line in the factory. The entire 



2 The Green Caldron 

factory had five can lines, each capable of filling 33,000 cans per hour. Each 
line required a crew of at least sixty workers. This meant that there were 300 
workers in the factory and 400 in the fields, a total of 700 workers. Of these 
700 not one was picking peas. They were packing peas. 

I have described only one canning factory. There are many others through- 
out the country. The process the others use is much the same as ours. This 
means that no one picks peas. 

Therefore, Mr. Ford, it is my wish that on your future programs you do 
not say, "Hello, all you pea-pickers," but that you shout, as you come on stage, 
"Hello, all you pea-packers." If you do this you will set at rest the minds of 
all the people who work in the pea-canning factories each summer. 

Sincerely yours. 
Pea-packer Lehn 



Nature's Beauty 

Douglas Royer 
Rhetoric loi. Theme 8 

AS I THINK ABOUT THE WORD BEAUTY, IT IS HARD TO 
understand what this word really means. What is beauty, and what does 
it imply ? 

Looking out over the wintry scene of an ice storm, I would find the glisten- 
ing trees beautiful. To the persons who must repair the damage done by the 
ice, this scene would appear, more than likely, ugly and wicked. Therefore 
beauty is relative. 

Beauty is everywhere waiting to be enjoyed by everyone: the first snow 
seen early in the morning before it is yet fully light, hanging in great piles on 
the trees, drifting high in places, and blanketing the ground with a white fluffy 
carpet ; a rainbow arching through the heavens as though it were the brilliantly 
colored handle with which someone was holding up the earth. 

The most beautiful sight I have ever seen was the Northern Lights. I first 
noticed some distance away in the black sky a patch of white which reminded 
me of falling rain. As I watched, light spread over the entire northern horizon 
and extended until it was directly overhead. Then the lights began to flash and 
dodge across the sky. The sight was so awe-inspiring that at first it gave me 
an empty feeling, as anything does which you don't understand. Then, before 
my eyes, as if this display were not already beautiful enough, the white lights 
became green, red, blue, and all the hues of the rainbow. It was only then that 
I realized I was watching the Aurora Borealis. I stayed up for over four hours 
watching this array of nature's fireworks until it subsided as slowly as it had 
come. I shall never forgfet this most beautiful of all sights. 



March, 1958 



Brave New World 

Rae Lesser 

Rhetoric loi. Book Report 

MAN CALLS HIMSELF THE HIGHEST OF ANIMALS. AND 
because his superior intelligence has enabled him to accumulate 
a creative and cultural heritage, he calls himself a human being. 
Thus the "humanity" of man has elevated him above the beasts. This 
humanity that has driven him to strive for goals beyond mere personal 
well-being has sprung from a power unique to man. For he alone has 
been endowed with the mental capacity to think, reason, dream, and act 
as an individual. Through the ages, his basic power of individuality has 
led man to great struggles — with himself, his fellows, his environment, 
and his destiny. Human existence on earth has ever been hard, despite 
the comforts gained through the advancements of culture and applied 
science. But man has clung to his birthright of humanity. 

Would he ever willingly forsake his heritage as a human being in 
return for the elimination of all struggle and hardships? To explain the 
existence of the Utopian society depicted in his book Brave Nezv IV or Id, 
Aldous Huxley created a situation in which man was forced to answer 
that question. 

The choice was made in A. F. 150 (150 years after the introduction 
of Henry Ford's first T-model). The Nine Years' War had ended but 
the world was left in a state of complete economic collapse and social 
chaos. When the leaders of the earth's surviving population met in an 
attempt to prevent total disaster, they were forced to decide between 
"World Control" and uneasy co-existence among national militarized 
totalitarianisms. The former system meant efficiency and stability in an 
age of advanced technology, under a Utopian welfare-tyranny. The 
latter alternative signified militarism, oppression, and social upheaval. 

For what they undoubtedly considered human reasons, the leaders 
chose to create the world-wide Eden. As science became the end and 
human beings became the means, individualism and all records of the 
past were thoroughly suppressed. The World State that was formed 
adopted "Community, Identity, Stability" as its motto and technology, 
symbolized by an almost-legendary Ford, as its god. Thus man sur- 
rendered not only his inherent liberty as an individual but much of his 
soul as well. 

Into his novel about the "brave new world" of universal well-being. 



4 The Green Caldron 

Huxley has injected many elements that make the book a significant 
work. The thought-provoking theme, the compelling style, and the 
realistically imagined, forceful presentation blend harmoniously and 
serve to emphasize Huxley's skill as an author. In addition, this meaty, 
satirical novel has been given new meaning and importance by the events 
and trends of the quarter-century that has elapsed since Brave New 
World was first published. Time is uncovering the most vital, yet most 
terrifying aspect of this book; time itself is giving Aldous Huxley's tale 
the semblance of a prophecy. For during the course of the last few years, 
many of the characteristics of the soul-less Utopian society he visualized 
have become evident in our own way of life. Each day, our increasing 
passion for scientific progress, a "consumer economy," "security," and 
a Miltown brand of "happiness" makes Brave New World less of a fantasy 
about a far-removed life in a distant future. 

Indeed, Huxley has focused attention on the dangers to the spirit of 
man that are now latent in modern society. It is his belief that over- 
emphasis on science and technology directed at controlling the individual 
and his environment will make a slave of man. Once Progress has 
become his master he will be forced to adapt to the "fruits" of his 
technical achievements. In the preface added in 1946, 15 years after 
the book was written, Huxley explains : "The theme of Brave New World 
is not the advancement of science as such, it is the advancement of 
science as it affects human individuals." 

As the products of applied science, the book's well-drawn characters 
appropriately illustrate the author's stated theme. Completely condi- 
tioned tools of their technical society, they are almost wholly unques- 
tioning in their acceptance of its doctrines : Brave New World's char- 
acters are a forceful demonstration that the inhabitants of such a world 
must, of necessity, be mere human robots. The only natural man in the 
story is an outsider immediately branded as "the Savage." Although 
he had dreamed of the day when he would finally enter "Ford's king- 
dom," he ultimately came to prefer suicide to life in that artificial place. 
The Savage did not know what kind of world awaited him when, in naive 
anticipation, he quoted Shakespeare : "O brave new world, that has such 
people in it ... " 

Reading Brave New World for the entertaining and unusual contents 
is an experience in itself. However, it is difficult to finish the novel with- 
out having contemplated its implications. Such contemplation seems to 
be almost a part of the book, for there is much in this story of a Fordian 
society to prod the reader into new evaluation of the disturbingly similar 
world of today. Therefore, it is through the successful stimulation of 
thought that Aldous Huxley has best accomplished the purpose of 
his book. 



March, 1958 



What Happened to Christmas? 

Ward Malisch 
Rhetoric loi. Theme 8 

CHRISTMAS? YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO 
Christmas? Why, it just disappeared, that's all. Why? It could have 
been any number of reasons, I suppose. It went through a series of 
changes down through the years and then, no more Christmas. 

How did it disappear? Well, it's a long story, but the biggest changes 
started back in 1960. It was then that people had the idea that a three-day 
week-end would be more advantageous than a holiday falling during the middle 
of the week. If all holidays fell on the week-end, there would more time for 
everything. Oh, this wasn't a new idea even then. Many people had suggested 
it, but nothing was done, not until 1960. Finally a law was passed making all 
national holidays, including Christmas, fall on week-ends. This was all well and 
good then because people didn't have to stop and think, "Will Christmas fall 
on a Monday or a Tuesday this year?" This problem was eliminated since it 
always fell on a Friday. 

But people still weren't satisfied. Next, someone thought that Christmas 
and New Year's Day were too close together, and it was suggested that if they 
were spread, they would be much more convenient for all. Why not space the 
holidays evenly throughout the year? "A wonderful idea," everyone said; 
"Why didn't we think of that before?" 

Now obviously, New Year's Day couldn't possibly be moved to a different 
time of the year ; consequently Christmas was chosen as the one to be moved. 
After all, if the day on which it fell didn't matter, why then should the month 
make any difference? 

The holidays were then spaced evenly, and everyone was satisfied once 
more. Of course, having Christmas in April had some disadvantages. Christ- 
mas trees weren't very pretty at that time, but this was easily remedied by 
forgetting about them completely. Also, the legend of Santa Claus had to 
be discontinued since there wasn't enough snow for his reindeer. But giving 
presents was the main purpose of Christmas anyway ; so people decided it was 
unnecessary to clutter the day with useless tradition. It was then reduced to 
its essential purpose — the giving and receiving of gifts. 

There was one last change to be made. Many people still thought of winter, 
Santa Claus, and the old traditions, when Christmas was mentioned. Also, the 
church had never been satisfied with this holiday changing and had continued 
to call December 25 Christmas, designating it as a church holy day along with 
Pentecost, Easter, and the other days recognized by the church. The answer 



The Green Caldron 



to the problem of the name was simple. The name was changed to Gifts Day 
and everyone was happy. Our holidays are now all arranged in such a manner 
that they fall on week-ends, are evenly spaced, and are not cluttered with all 
that useless trivia of tradition — quite an improvement. 



Strong Will Conquers 

Nancy Cohernour 
Rhetoric loi, Theme 12 

TOMMY WAS A SMALL BOY FOR HIS EIGHT YEARS, BUT 
he had the irrepressible will that comes from struggling to overcome 
disease. I met this polio-stricken boy one summer day when his mother 
brought him to the public beach for swimming lessons. As a swimming in- 
structor, I was giving private lessons to all age groups at the lake. Mrs. Fisher, 
Tommy's mother, inquired about lessons for her son and then stated, "I hope 
you can teach Tom to swim. I know he will work hard for you." 

Well, Tom's work was to prove his mother's statement. Never in my life 
have I seen a child so bent on learning. His span of attention was unbelievable. 
I can well remember drilling and drilling him until I thought his whole form 
would take on the withered appearance of his tiny left leg. He never complained. 

Along with other exceptions I made for him, I permitted him to call me by 
my first name. By and by, we became great friends, and it wasn't uncommon 
to see me, a lifeguard, and the small boy, hand in hand. We often took rowboat 
rides, sunned together on the dock, or just built castles out of sand. 

I learned great things from Tommy Fisher. I was aware of human com- 
passion every time we were together because he was an example to me of what 
life — in essence compounded of disease, doctors, care, prayers, time, love — 
can do for one so young. We talked often and quite seriously, and sometimes 
we discussed his affliction. For an eight-year-old, Tommy was certainly grasp- 
ing for graces in life which some adults never achieve. His attitude of accept- 
ance overwhelmed me. I hate to remember shouting, "One — two — kick — kick ; 
one — two — kick — kick !" I shouted until my voice broke from strain, and then 
I'd say, "Hey, little man, let's take a rest." Tommy always answered, "O.K. 
I know it will be a long time before I learn how to swim, Nancy." I replied, 
"Not long, Tom." He accepted my confidence and worked through many hard 
hours for days and weeks. I sometimes thought those hours were just as hard 
for me, in a way, to see his twisted form laboring. But, early in August, I 
rejoiced to hear his squeal when he took his first strokes. 

Yes, Tom learned to swim. My heart held such joy for him when he lifted 
his head and said, "Someday I'll be a good swimmer." I knelt to answer him, 
"You won't be the best, my dear, but you'll be good." I thought I understood. 
But somehow, my feeling seemed shallow as I looked over on the beach to 
where Mrs. Fisher was sittine. 



March, 1958 7 

America's Staunchest Ally 

David Abrahamson 

Rhetoric lOl, Final Theme 

MONEY IS THE STAUNCHEST ALLY THAT AMERICA 
possesses. If proof of this fact is needed, one has only to look at the 
proposed governmental budget for the fiscal year of 1958. Approxi- 
mately four billion dollars are to be used in various forms of foreign aid. 
Although supposedly intended for economic and military improvement, the 
purpose of this money is to help keep some of our "staunch" allies on our side 
of the iron curtain. From foreign countries there is a continual demand for 
American aid, with the threat of turning to Russia if the United States refuses 
to supply more money. It is the generosity of the government in Washington, 
not the high ideals of freedom, that keeps the "free world" united. This gener- 
osity is not always called for. 

Many of our allies show little appreciation and still less need of American 
aid. The British, who are quick to comment on reduced aid, reduced their 
own income taxes while receiving American tax dollars. In France, where the 
Communists are one of the major political parties, American tax money is 
quickly squandered while millions of Frenchmen dodge the tax collector every 
year. These examples would tend to make one wonder why we continue giving 
money to our allies. 

The examples of how the money is actually spent would make one wonder 
why we ever took the trouble to start the aid program. In Great Britain over 
180 million dollars' worth of machinery from the United States was stored in 
British government warehouses, with the United States agreeing to pay the 
British government warehouse charges. Enough linseed oil was purchased in 
Germany to last the United States Army for eighty-four years, because a time 
limit had been placed on an amount of money to be spent in foreign countries 
and no other way could be thought of for spending it. Gross neglect in the 
supervision of profits has led to the loss of thousands of dollars in the form of 
excess profits made by foreign companies. It is undoubtedly time to review our 
position on foreign aid. 

If a large-scale foreign aid program is to be undertaken, its supervision 
needs to be greatly improved over that of previous programs. Better supervision 
will lead to an improved return on our foreign aid expenditures. The govern- 
ment should especially check to see if aid is needed before it is granted. In some 
previous cases, military weapons were sent to countries that were unable to 
supply enough men to use the weapons. Beyond these steps, a new look at our 
relations with our allies should be taken. 

The idea which some of our leaders seem to hold, that we must supply large 



8 The Green Caldron 

amounts of money in order to maintain our alliances, is false. Our allies are 
more vitally interested in their own welfare than we give them credit for. We 
should not and we do not have to give them aid in order to have their support. 
Foreign aid should be greatly reduced, and there should be no more of the 
attitude of "how much money for your friendship," that now seems to prevail 
in Washington. If our government continues its present policy of something for 
everyone but the American taxpayer, there may come a day when there will not 
be enough of our "staunchest ally" for our own protection. 



Breathless 

Leo Kruenegel 
Rhetoric lOO, Theme 8 

ABOUT FOUR YEARS AGO, I MET AND WORKED WITH A 
very quick-tempered man who was well-built, muscular, and handsome 
but also conceited. As we know, handsomeness and conceit seldom 
afford a good friendship. This man, whom I shall call Bob, was a moody man 
like myself, and I felt it was inevitable that our moods would sometime clash. 
Finally it happened. 

One day, while working together, we angrily found fault with each other's 
slightest mistakes. In my anger I said words that I normally wouldn't even 
have thought. At this point the waters of his brain came to a full boil. He 
swung his fist toward me. Fortunately, my timing was right, and I ducked the 
blow. This made him become disgusted with himself ; he felt that he must hit 
me to keep his pride. Like lightning he picked me up and dropped me to the 
floor. My head hit the concrete floor with a loud thud. My ears were screaming 
with the impact. I closed my eyes with a superstitious hope that that which 
I could not see could not harm me. Suddenly I felt his knee pound into my 
chest. My head ached with the fall, and my heart pounded in my ears. The 
weight he put upon his knee seemed inhuman, and I could not get my breath. I 
was helpless, and I was frantic with fear and shock. I opened my eyes and 
the ceiling seemed to spin above me, then slowly the spinning images faded 
away. Gradually, there came complete darkness. I felt no pain. A horrid thought 
flashed through my mind. Could I be dead ? No, I could hear my heart feebly 
but distinctly pounding in my ear. I was confused by the darkness, the numb- 
ness of my body, and the nearly complete silence. I rested. 

I slowly awakened to realize that my head was bandaged, and my chest 
was tightly bound. I was lying on a cot. I tried to move to a more comfortable 
position, but I found myself too weak. I looked at a clock and found that nearly 
three hours had passed since the fight. Bob, standing nearby, took a sigh of 
relief and solemnly apologized. 

It felt good to breathe. 



March, 1958 



Humanity versus the Slide Rule 

Rae Lesser 
Rhetoric loi, Final Theme 

THE BOY WALKS ALONE; THE WIND, SWEEPING ACROSS 
the Broadwalk, tousles his hair. At first glance there is nothing in his 
typically-collegiate appearance to distinguish him from the thousands of 
his peers who have come to the University of Illinois in search of knowledge 
and understanding. But something heavy, encased in dark leather, swings from 
his hip. He is identified as a member of a breed apart. 

The engineering student adjusts the slide-rule clipped to his belt, and 
quickens his pace. He has no classes in any of the imposing buildings that line 
the Broadwalk; his day is spent in the various specialized training centers 
located north of Green Street. He is a representative of a fast-growing seg- 
ment of American youth destined to emerge from college without an education. 
After amassing approximately 120 credit hours, the youth will be given a 
degree and thereafter will be classified as a graduate of an institution of higher 
learning. 

But can technical training be considered learning? Does passing 120 col- 
lege credit hours constitute an education ? According to the current catalogue 
of the University of Illinois, published in pre-Sputnik days, only 20 of those 
120 hours required for graduation in the College of Engineers are devoted 
to "liberal electives." Within those 20 hours, the student must take the 
equivalent of 6 hours of freshman rhetoric, leaving approximately 11.67% 
of his college career to the pursuit of the cultural values that might tend to en- 
rich his knowledge and broaden his horizons as a human being and an individ- 
ual. Is it any wonder that many of the graduates of the science courses com- 
plain that the general effect of such specialized training is a sensation of having 
one's mind narrowed and restricted to a sphere not greatly exceeding the 
dimensions of the ever-present slide rule? 

Recently a lustrous metallic sphere hurtling through space in an orbit far 
above Earth has created an intense feeling among the population of the United 
States of America that we are lagging behind in the mass production of scien- 
tific personnel. The apparent result of this fear of falling behind in a race 
against science and total annihilation is a "step-up" in the process that now 
turns out "89.33% pure" technical talent. If further concentration on technical 
studies, coupled with a vastly increased number of engineering students, will 
result from the current emphasis on science (as the only hope and future of 
our troubled globe), the dilemma facing the nation is real indeed. At the 
moment, the situation is such that we are "short-changing" merely a small 



10 The Green Caldron 

number of students on their chance to become well-rounded individuals. How- 
ever, if the boy with the slide rule becomes the rule on this campus, and on the 
campuses of the country's colleges, we will be faced with a new danger. The 
civilization dominated by the well-trained robots of the scientific monster of 
Progress, of our own creation, will differ from our own in one all-important 
way : IVe are human beings and individuals. 



Sputnik: For War or Peace? 

David Chambers 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 7 

LIKE A GREAT TIDAL WAVE EMANATING FROM THE 
. satellite itself, political and diplomatic repercussions of Russia's 
Sputnik have rolled over the world since the launching was ac- 
complished last October 4. To launch a satellite into space successfully 
on the first attempt is a great scientific achievement. As a result Russia 
has gained much international prestige at the expense of the United 
States, and the world has had to re-evaluate (rather grudgingly) its 
opinion of Russia's technological know-how. Among the many questions 
concerning Sputnik, probably the most important one is this : What 
effect will the Soviet satellite have on world peace; or more specifically, 
since the United States is the leader of the free nations working for 
peace, what effect will Sputnik have on United States security? 

Russia announced earlier it had a workable intercontinental ballistic 
missile, the ultimate in war weapons ; the successful launching of the 
earth satellite gave strong support to this claim. However, for such a 
missile to be workable, it must first leave the earth's atmosphere (which 
Russia's missile is capable of doing), re-enter, it and effectively hit the 
target. Russia publicly announced the next major step in its satellite 
program would be to devise a method for bringing a satellite back to 
earth without its being destroyed. If the Russians cannot accomplish 
this feat with a satellite now, how^ can they possibly have a missile which 
must do essentially that same thing: leave the atmosphere and re-enter 
it unharmed? The answer: Russia does not have a workable inter- 
continental ballistic missile. 

For the purposes of war a satellite has a great reconnaissance potential. 
Photographs could be taken from which accurate maps could be made ; 
and very conceivably a television transmitter could be installed in a 
satellite, enabling military strategists to scan every part of the world 
once a day. Finally, bombardment from the missile itself would have a 



March, 1958 11 

most devastating effect. But many complex technical problems must 
be solved before a satellite can attain such a high degree of efficiency. 
Sputnik, instrumentation-wise, probably does not have a fraction of the 
necessary efficiency because the bulk of its weight is composed of storage 
batteries, a crude source of electrical energy. Hence, the value of Sputnik 
as a device or weapon of war is nil. 

The Kremlin's victory in launching their satellite has been chiefly 
psychological and dangerous mostly as a weapon of propaganda. That 
they are exploiting this weapon to its utmost has been illustrated in 
recent international events. The objective of this propaganda weapon 
is threefold: Russia wants to (1) impress the neutral peoples of Africa, 
the Middle East, and Asia; (2) frighten Western Europe into neutrality; 
and (3) jolt the United States into two-power peace talks on Soviet 
terms, thus breaking the Western Alliance. In the face of this renewed 
Russian cold-war campaign the Western allies have not panicked ; they 
have been calm and deliberate in their reasoning. In the recent Middle 
Eastern crisis where Khrushchev acted most belligerently, Mr. Dulles 
bluntly told the Communist chief that any attack by Russia on Turkey 
would most assuredly result in war with the United States. Knowing 
this fact, Khrushchev made no move of aggression. In answer to the 
Russian "Big Two" conference proposal on satellites, space, and peace, 
the United States stated that any such conferences would have to be 
unilateral, not bilateral. The free nations have resolved to tighten 
Western unity by removing bans on sharing of scientific secrets and by 
pooling all resources. Russia has met, and is meeting, staunch resistance 
against its effort to shift the balance of world political and diplomatic 
power in its favor. 

Russia will not make war with the free world for several basic reasons. 
The Kremlin is troubled internally by a continual power struggle — as 
long as this struggle exists, Russia is not ready for war. If and when the 
Communist forces are ready, still they will probably not attack, because 
they realize the futility of war — why fight a war no one can win? Man is 
not bent on self-destruction. 

When the United States regains its former prestige as the world 
leader by stepping up its scientific research and education (the President 
formally initiated such a program the last day in October), Russia and 
the United States will eventually come to a peaceful co-existence. 

Man is destined to explore space, at least within the solar system. 
Russian scientists have already concluded that the economic burden of 
the comparatively short space flight to the moon would be more than 
one nation alone could bear. Thus, the inevitable outcome will be that 
all the nations of the world will peacefully unite in one common effort to 
realize their destiny in space. 



12 The Green Caldron 



The Hiding People 

Max Flandorfer 
Rhetoric 102, Final Theme 

AFTER YOU LEAVE CRESCENT STREET AND BEFORE YOU 
go very far on Fulton, you come to a section of Brooklyn known as 
Brownsville. The streets, during the day, are usually very crowded, but 
at night a strange quiet settles over them. The pushcarts are gone, the hawkers 
retired to no one knows where. The automobiles which choked the street 
during the day, now line the curbs, resting quietly like sleeping beasts. 

The houses are all connected one to the other, and their long dim grimness 
seems to form a wall against intruders. The soot and dirt of the city have 
turned the brownstone facade into a grimy, blackened grimace. Streaked here 
and there by the rain, spotted by the birds, and crumbling with neglect, the 
buildings seem, somehow, forbidding — yet pathetic. The staring windows, the 
gaping doorways seem to carry the stamp of idiocy, of senility ; and like things 
that were once proud and have fallen in disgrace, the buildings convey an 
inevitable feeling of isolation. 

The people in the buildings, the ones that make these lonely things their 
home, seem to be the same as the buildings themselves. Each person seems to 
be, somehow, something less than he must have been once. Each person, some- 
how, seems to be streaked by the soot and lined by the weather. And each 
person, too, seems to be afraid of showing what is inside himself. 

The silence of the now deserted streets is punctuated by the sound of 
footsteps — ^hurrying, hurrying. You can feel the urgency, the need to be off 
the streets, the need to be locked in the tomb, away from the world and other 
men. If the glances of two of these silent hurriers ever meet, there is a quick 
turning away, a feeling almost of panic. The words are never spoken, but they 
are heard as clearly as if they were shouted in a frenzy of fear — "Leave me 
alone! Don't look at me!" And the footsteps quicken, to regain their solitude 
the faster. 

As each building is passed, a sound can be heard, very faintly — more of an 
undertone than a definite sound, but it's there. It carries through the sound of 
radios playing too high, and people laughing too hard, and voices talking too 
loud. It carries through all the falseness the people wear outside. It comes and 
is inside you before you know you have heard it, and it clutches at your soul. 
It is the sound of weeping. It is the great, pain-choked sobs of weariness — ^the 
tears of loneliness . . . 

Down the street the cold wind blows, and the houses seem to shiver and 
cringe, and the wind seems lonely too. 



March, 1958 13 

The Tower 

James Hockenhull 
Rhetoric loi. Theme 6 

UP THROUGH THE GREY AUTUMN MIST A GREAT SQUARE 
shaft of weathered stone looms black against the dreary sky. Tall and 
straight it stands, though it bears the burden of many decades, while, on 
the wet sidewalks below, thousands of students hurry by, hunched and stooped 
by a mere fraction of the tower's age. Thousands of young people rush on, 
scarcely noticing the proud monument of the past, scarcely heeding its plain- 
tive message. But its message is there. It can be heard through the swirling 
mist, through the driving rain. It can be heard over the clamor of the crowd 
at midday and it can be heard calling through the silence of night. For the 
message is time. Time is the cry through the fog. Time ! Time is flying ! Time ! 
Another hour of life has passed ! Time ! A child is born ! Time ! An elder dies ! 
Time is the most urgent message in the world. 

But to the grey crowd below, the carillon voice means another class is over, 
only fifteen more minutes to study, a half-hour till dinner. So on they rush, 
living from minute to minute. Few ever look up to the four conical turrets and 
the great tiled pyramid that crowd the shaft. Few peer into the gaping ports 
of the tower to catch a glimpse of the ropes and pulleys that actuate the bells. 
But the tower stands, a proud prophet of the god of time, in spite of the ennui 
of its listeners. And, though hundreds of future generations come and go, the 
great stone shaft will still loom up through the mists of the years, black 
against the sky. 



They Needed Affection 

Virginia Vida 

Rhetoric loi, Theme 5 

DURING THE TIME I SERVED AS A GIRL SCOUT CAMP 
counselor last summer, I became acquainted with the twenty-seven 
fifth and sixth graders who attended camp, but I became especially 
intrigued in observing how a certain few displayed their need for affection as 
a means of finding security. 

On the far extreme of insecurity was Janie, a thin, unattractive girl whose 
pleading smile could not help but cause one to pity her. She was very slow- 
thinking, was inclined to forget most of what was said to her, and would ask 
the same questions repeatedly. The head counselor defined the girl as "dull." 



14 The Green Caldron 

Janie's conversational ability was confined to her knowledge of a few facts, 
which she related to me time and again, interrupting herself now and then with, 
"Now, what did you say your name was ?" However, the action which depicted 
clearly her need for affection was her habit of "hanging" on me day in and out, 
clutching my hand or my dress as if this were the only nearness she had ever 
known. Janie followed me everywhere I went, plaguing me with questions, dry 
facts, and requests that I fix her tent, or that I play her a tune on my "ukelady." 
She was shunned and nearly ostracized by the other campers, but she never 
gave up trying, in her pathetic, yet obnoxious manner, to win their approval. 

Anne, a pretty blond who had come from the "wrong side of the tracks," 
was a perfect example of the insecure attention getter. She had a grand total 
of two friends, and the three of them, except for their contact with me, com- 
pletely isolated themselves from the rest of the group. Anne was their leader; 
the other two followed her like sheep (loud sheep), and they idolized and tried 
to imitate her every move. I soon became deeply interested in this defiant girl, 
and she in me. Her grammar was incorrect, and her speech was rough and 
sometimes insulting. The clothes she wore were tight-fitting and loud, the heels 
on her loafers were worn to a thin sheet, and the backs of the shoes were 
flattened to the heels, so that she shufiied along in order to keep them on when 
she walked. She presented a rough appearance. I was struck by the thought 
that Anne, at the age of ten, probably knew as much about the unmentionables 
of life as I did. Anne needed affection badly, but found a sort of security in 
rejecting it. The head counselor said that Anne was "intolerable, uncontrollable, 
and worst of all, whiney." Yet, her defiance toward me changed completely, 
and she, too, began following me around, bringing her friends with us. I was 
beginning to feel like the Pied Piper. 

On the second night out, I was informed that one of the scouts had become 
homesick and was going to leave, so I immediately rushed over to her tent in 
hopes of changing her mind. There, sitting on her cot, was life's picture of 
innocence — Kathy. Her platinum-blonde hair was curly and of medium length, 
she was small in stature, and her baby-blue eyes were radiant when she smiled ; 
she was a little doll, a magnified infant who made me wonder momentarily why 
some children have to grow up. I somehow succeeded in convincing Kathy 
that she should remain. It was her first time away from home, away from the 
affection she was used to, and which could not be replaced by her tentmates. 
After that evening, she, too, attached herself to me. Needless to say, she was 
a joy to have around. 

Janie and Anne looked to me for the affection that was missing in their 
daily lives, whereas Kathy only needed it temporarily. Janie was trying to 
get it, but was using a wrong approach; Anne had rejected it, but showed her 
need for it in that she tried to draw attention to herself ; and Kathy was 
normally accustomed to the affection which the others lacked. 



March, 1958 15 

Bloomington, Indiana 

Stephen Weiser 
Rhetoric loi, Theme 5 

I LIVED IN BLOOMINGTON FOR TEN YEARS, FROM THE 
time I began my second year in elementary school until I left home for 

college. The town has filled my mind with countless memories, both good 
and bad. In it I have spent what have been the most formative years of my life. 

Bloomington is a community of contrasts. It has a small-town flavor, in 
that gossip travels fast, but it has a big-town feeling, too. Upwards of 30,000 
inhabit the town, and the population swells each school year with more thou- 
sands of Indiana University students. On the square, where the County Court- 
house is located, a citizen can encounter many of his friends every day. But the 
intellectual and social influences of the University give the town a big-city, 
cosmopolitan atmosphere. 

Bloomington has always had many characteristics of the farming commu- 
nity. On Saturday mornings, the farm families come into town to do their 
shopping, and the old-timers stand in the sun outside of Woolworth's and 
Penney 's on the square and chew their tobacco. The banks too are filled with 
farmers and working men with rough clothes and rougher hands. Dusty old 
cars fill up all extra parking spaces. Stout women in flowered print dresses and 
with several children alongside are seen in the dimestores buying coloring 
books, peanuts, and tin toys for the youngsters. The sporting goods stores are 
frequented on Saturday mornings by boys with change in their pockets looking 
for baseballs and BB's. The farm folk crowd into the Postofiice, the feed stores, 
the hardware stores, and the A. & P. 

Yet all one has to do to step out of the typical southern Indiana farming 
community and into another world of educated and intellectual people is to 
travel about six blocks east of the Square to the campus of Indiana University. 
Here is a world of pizza, famous dance bands, opera, symphony concerts, mod- 
ern jazz, sports cars, academic degrees, philosophic bull sessions, and many, 
many other contrasts. Here, in the form of a big rectangle measuring about one 
mile by one-half mile cut out of the eastern half of the town, is the institution 
that links Bloomington with the outside world. The campus is Bloomington's 
land of shade, limestone buildings, bookstores, fraternities, young people with 
futures. Big Ten football, dormitories, and education. 

In Bloomington, I received innumerable impressions that have influenced 
me. I could stand on the square and watch the drugstore cowboys in their 
customized used cars roar around and around on weekend nights. Theirs was 
the world of Elvis Presley, Fats Domino, and no more than a high school 
education. Here were the youth of the typical southern Indiana farming town. 



16 The Green Caldron 

Their future is a world of labor, fat wives, and large families. Their Bloom- 
ington is the rootbeer stands, the drive-in movies, the overcrowded high school, 
the soda fountains, the Hollywood magazines, the jukeboxes, the dual exhausts 
and fender skirts. I knew their Bloomington and learned from it, yet I don't 
call it my own. 

In Bloomington's other half, I came in contact with such things as the 
Sadler's Wells Ballet, the music of Artur Rubenstein, Dave Brubeck, Woody 
Herman, the Vienna Symphony and the Metropolitan Opera, the college 
dances, the people of learning, the atmosphere of the world. Here I could 
draw upon the world's great culture and entertainment ; I came to know what 
the world really offered. I tasted Bloomington's collegiate half, too, and I 
learned from it. 

I realized during my last visit to Bloomington that I love the town for what 
it is : a unique, wonderful combination of two very real worlds. 



The Emancipation Proclamation 



Myrna Levine 
Rhetoric 102, Reference Paper 



ALTHOUGH THE PEOPLE RECEIVED AND INTERPRETED 
the Emancipation Proclamation of January 1, 1863, according to their 
own particular interests in the slavery problem and Civil War of the 
United States, President Abraham Lincoln's reason for issuing the Proclama- 
tion was to accomplish faster his primary purpose in the war — to save the 
Union, 

Although President Lincoln spent the entire afternoon of January 1, 1863, 
greeting and visiting with the many New Year's Day callers that stormed the 
White House, he had a decidedly more significant matter to attend to during 
the early evening. By the time Secretary of State William Seward brought him 
the official copy of the Emancipation Proclamation to sign, he was rather 
tired from the ordeal of the day.^ The few people who were gathered in his 
office at the time of the signing heard him say : "I never in my life felt more 
certain that I was doing right. But I have been receiving calls and shaking 
hands since eleven o'clock this morning until my arm is still numb. Now 
the signature will be closely examined, and if they find my hand trembled, they 
will say 'he had some compunctions.' But, anyway, it is going to be done."^ 

What Lincoln did was to emancipate the slaves in the areas still in rebellion 
against the United States, namely, Arkansas, Texas, most of Louisiana, Miss- 



March, 1958 



17 



issippi, Alabama, Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, and most 
of Virginia, asking the slaves always to conduct themselves respectably and 
telling them that the qualified members among them would be accepted into 
certain branches of the armed service.^ 

Since these areas were in rebellion against the law of the United States, 
the actual freeing of the slaves could not be effected. The pro-Union slave 
states, areas in which the freeing of the slaves could be effected, were not within 
the compass of the Proclamation.'* 

This lack of authority of the Proclamation was the cause of much criticism. 
People scoffed openly at the man who had issued such an unworkable docu- 
ment. Abolitionists could not understand why Lincoln had differentiated be- 
tween slaves of Union states and slaves of Confederate states.^ Pro-slavery 
Northern Democrats were angry that the President had changed a struggle 
to save the Union into an anti-slavery campaign, since Lincoln had gained their 
support by emphasizing his purpose of preserving the Union.^ Other Union- 
ists, although agreeing that the measure at least tended to weaken slavery in 
the United States, were skeptical that it would help end the rebellion.'^ Even the 
Negroes themselves were not completely in favor of the Proclamation. Those 
of the deep South, who hated and feared Lincoln and the North as fervently as 
their masters hated them,^ simply continued laboring as before, content to know 
that freedom was technically theirs if they wanted it.^ Only those slaves who 
were far enough North to taste a limited freedom were enthusiastic over the 
Proclamation. Masses of jubilant Negroes flooded the streets, shouting, sing- 
ing, and practically worshipping the man who had liberated tliem.^'' 

The Emancipation Proclamation was received favorably in Europe, espe- 
cially in Great Britain, France, and Spain, where it was popularly believed to 
be a great act of humanity.^^ Although history does place strong emphasis 
on the humaneness of the act, careful study indicates that Lincoln did not 
approve of immediate and unconditional liberation, considering it unfair to 
slave-holders as well as to slaves.^- He told the Negroes: "When you 
cease to be slaves, you are yet far removed from being on an equality with the 
white race."^^ Thus, he apparently understood the social problem much better 
than did the radical abolitionists, who demanded the slaves' unconditional lib- 
eration. 

Lincoln believed that this social problem between the Negroes and the 
whites could be best solved through a very gradual emancipation. He also 
felt that the South should be compensated financially for the destruction of an 
institution encouraged as much by the needs of the North and the rest of the 
world as by those of the South.^^ 

Several times, the President appealed to Congress to adopt plans for buy- 
ing the slaves in order to liberate them. When, on April 10, 1862, Congress did 
adopt such a plan, none of the slave states would agree to the terms, and, as 
a result, slaves were liberated by purchase only in Washington, D.C.-^^ 



18 The Green Caldron 

Thus, Lincoln's attitude toward emancipation would suggest that he had 
an even more fundamental reason for issuing the Emancipation Proclamation. 
British Foreign Minister Lord John Russell said, concerning the matter: "If 
it were a measure of emancipation, it would be extended to all the states in 
the Union. . . [it] is not granted to the claims of humanity but inflicted as a 
punishment."^^ Russell's interpretation was substantiated by Lincoln himself, 
who, on several occasions, explained that the Emancipation Proclamation was 
merely one factor in his constant attempt to preserve the Union ; specifically, 
it was a war device to punish and weaken the still rebelling states. ^^ As Lin- 
coln wrote to critic Horace Greeley on August 22, 1862: ''If I could save the 
Union without freeing any slave, I would do it ; and if I could save it by free- 
ing all the slaves I would do it ; and if I could do it by freeing some and leav- 
ing others alone, I would also do that."^^ History tells us he chose the third 
course.^® 

^ Margaret Leech, Reveille in Washington 1860-1865, p. 249. 

" As quoted by John Bach McMaster, A History of the People of the United States 
During Lincoln's Administration, p. 268. 

^"Emancipation Proclamation," The Encyclopedia Americana (1953), 10:272. 

* Ibid. 

* McMaster, p. 269. 

^Benjamin P. Thomas, Abraham Lincoln, p. 359. 
' McA'Iaster, p. 269. 

* Thomas, p. 360. 

" Clifford Dowdey, Experiment in Rebellion, p. 219. 

'° Thomas, p. 360. 

^"Emancipation Proclamation," Tlic Columbia Encyclopedia (1950), p. 612. 

^" Dowdey, p. 215. 

'^ As quoted in Dowdey, p. 215. 

" J. G. Randall, Lincoln — The Liberal Statesman, p. 29. 

^""Emancipation Proclamation," The Encyclopedia Americana, 10:272. 

^^ As quoted by Dowdey, p. 215. 

" Randall, p. 492. 

^"As quoted in "Emancipation Proclamation," The Columbia Encyclopedia, p. 272. 

^"Ibid. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 
Dowdey, Clifford. Experiment in Rebellion. Garden City, New York : Doubleday and 

Company, Incorporated, 1946. 
"Emancipation Proclamation," The Columbia Encyclopedia (1950), p. 612. 
"Emancipation Proclamation," The Encyclopedia Americana (1953), 10:271-272. 
Herndon, William H., and Jesse W. Weik. Life of Lincoln. Cleveland and New York: 

The World Publishing Company, 1930. 
Leech, Margaret. Reveille in Washington 1860-1865. New York and London : Harper 

and Brothers, 1941. 
McMaster, John Bach. A History of the People of the United States During Lincoln's 

Administration. New York and London: D. Appleton-Century Company, Incorporated, 

1939. 
Randall, J. G. Lincoln — The Liberal Statesman. New York : Dodd, Mead and Company, 

1947. 

■ . The Civil War and Reconstruction. Boston : D. C. Heath and Company, 1937. 

Sandburg, Carl. Storm over the Land. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1942. 
Thomas, Benjamin P. Abraham Lincoln. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1952. 



March, 1958 19 



Escape 

Andrew Sedlock 
Rhetoric loo, Theme 5 

LAST SUMMER I WAS ABLE TO PARTICIPATE IN MY FA- 
. vorite sport only a few times. On one of those rare evenings in the 
month of July, I managed to slip away from the house and make my 
way to the nearest lake. Parking my car as near the lake as possible, I walked 
to a spot near the water's edge. There under the maple trees I took time to 
assemble my fishing tackle, stopping now and then to view the lake area when- 
ever sounds of activity came to my ears. 

A fish was feeding near some brush twenty feet from shore. He broke the 
surface of the water with a sloshing sound several times in the space of a few 
minutes. Each time he disturbed the water I would look for him to see how far 
he had moved. I managed to tie to my line a small bass lure of the floating type. 
This I was sure would make Mr. Fish my fish. 

I moved cautiously the last few feet to the water's edge. Carefully I 
stripped line from my reel. Making one false cast, I dropped the lure on the 
few sticks of brush, allowing it to slide off and fall lightly upon the water. 

I was afraid to move. A full minute went by ; nothing happened. I gave the 
line a sharp, short twitch. Again I allowed the lure to rest. A small disturbance 
near my vanishing lure brought an immediate reaction from me. Pulling up- 
ward on the rod, I set the hook. My line went taut, but no action. I had become 
hooked to a log, or so I thought. 

At this moment the lake exploded. A beautiful fountain of spray shot 
upward into the setting sun. In the the middle was my log, twisting and squirm- 
ing. Falling back into the white water, he disappeared from my sight, but I 
knew I still had him, for his telegraph message came back to me through my 
fishing tackle. 

It was clear that he wanted to leave for some other part of the lake. Not 
wanting to disappoint him or myself, I let him believe that he could go by 
giving him some line. He wasn't satisfied. Up he came to view the situation. 
Again he made a headlong dash, but this time toward me. I took in line as fast 
as possible. An eternity passed before I felt any indication that my fish was 
still on my line. Then I saw him, almost at my feet. 

He turned and looked me straight in the eye. We looked at each other for 
a second or two; then my fish made one powerful swing with his tail, sending 
himself and half the lake into the air, shaking and twisting himself violently. 
He then vanished beneath the foaming water. I knew what had happened even 
before I saw my line flying back to me. My fish had made his escape. 



20 The Green Caldron 

The "Troublesome" Veto 

Carl F. Abegg 
Rhetoric loi, Theme 5 

SHOULD THE VETO POWER OF THE PERMANENT MEM- 
bers in the Security Council be eliminated? If so, what type of voting 
should the Security Council and the rest of the United Nations adopt ? A 
similar question was recently asked of hundreds of adult Americans, and an 
overwhelming majority favored eliminating the veto because, as they said, the 
Russians have abused the veto and have greatly hampered the efficiency of the 
U.N. as a world government. Most of the people questioned favored giving 
each country in the U.N. one vote; thus, they believed, the United Nations 
would have a more democratic form of government. 

An intelligent analysis of these wide-spread beliefs concerning the veto 
and its relation to the United States and the United Nations proves how com- 
pletely absurd this public opinion is. 

First of all, the U.N. is not, and was never intended to be, a world govern- 
ment. The representatives of the allied countries which met at Yalta, Dum- 
barton Oaks, and San Francisco, realized that the world was not ready for a 
single, central government. Their primary purpose was not to found a world 
government, but to organize a league of independent, sovereign states in such 
a way as to prevent war. They also knew that if war was to be prevented, the 
great powers in the world would have to be united. Thus, they formulated the 
unanimity of the Big Five. 

While it is true that the Big Five have not remained united — as it was first 
thought that they would — and that the Russians have used their veto power 
for selfish political reasons, these are not sufficient reasons to do away with 
the veto. It is a little-known fact that the United States also favored having 
the veto clause inserted into the U. N. Charter. Our representatives to the 
conferences knew that the Senate would never ratify a treaty (the Charter of 
the U.N. is considered by the United States to be a treaty) which would 
destroy our national sovereignty. How many of the strong advocates of a world 
superstate would favor such a government, a government to which all of the 
American people would owe their allegiance, if they realized that their sons 
and daughters who are in the armed forces could be sent anywhere in the 
world without the consent of the people of the United States? 

Many of the more intelligent individuals who were questioned did not 
favor completely eliminating the veto. Instead, they believed that the veto 
should be modified so that it could be used only in matters concerning the use 
of military forces. They believed that on all other matters each country should 
have only one vote, and that a majority of these votes should decide any issue. 
How intelligent their reasoning is! How democratic this would be! Under 



March, 1958 21 

this system it would be possible for forty of the smaller member nations of 
the U.N., having ten per cent of the world's population, to determine the 
policy for the other ninety per cent of the world's people. 

No, the veto cannot be abolished or modified without destroying our 
national safety and sovereignty. As exasperating as the U.N. is under the 
present voting system, this system is still a necessary part of the Charter. Until 
the present tension in the world is relieved, we must insist upon the U.N. 
Charter containing the "troublesome" veto. 



Travelogue 

Bennett E. Gates 
Rhetoric loi. Theme 8 

THE DAY WAS HOT, AND THE CITY OF RIO SUFFERED. 
The heat rose in shimmering waves from the gleaming buildings and 
broad expanses of pavement, making all but the coolest "casas" and air- 
conditioned "restaurantes" places of sweltering misery. High above it all, a 
tiny cable car creaked and groaned and swayed its way along toward the top of 
Sugar Loaf Mountain. But the temperature inside the car was hardly more 
bearable than that below. Men squirmed uncomfortably in the hard wooden 
seats, most of them burdened down with guide books, travel folders, their 
wives' handbags, and miscellaneous curios acquired along the way. The 
women, though doing their best to maintain their composure, were now and 
then driven to reach back and lift the hot, damp hair that clung to the backs 
of their necks. Occasionally one considerate wife would relieve her husband's 
load by the amount of one rather stiff travel folder, to fan herself vigorously — 
a ridiculous effort, since the exertion made her that much hotter and more 
uncomfortable. Most of the husbands either sat quietly, sulking behind the 
wall of wifely debris that surrounded them, or else peered sullenly between 
two packages at the scenery below. Their wives, however, sat as far forward 
on the edges of their seats as discretion would allow, and listened eagerly to 
the tour guide who now stood at the front of the car. 

He was a short, dark Brazilian, and fat to the point of being perfectly 
round. He was nearly bald, and when he wasn't droning his memorized speech 
on the history of Brazilian culture and pointing out various scenic spots, he 
pulled a sodden handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed furiously at the 
perspiration that covered his head. Without a doubt he was the most miserable 
and uncomfortable person on board, and when the car suddenly jerked to a 
stop and sat him down quite without dignity in the middle of the floor, he 
looked almost relieved. There was a moment or two of confusion while a few 
unseated passengers re-seated themselves and the wives hurriedly gathered 
up their scattered bundles and re-buried their husbands. When order was 



22 The Green Caldron 

finally restored, it was learned that somehow the cable that pulled the car along 
and the cable that held the car up had become fouled and would have to be 
separated before the trip could be resumed. 

After the car had been bobbing and swaying over the city of Rio de Janeiro 
for approximately twenty minutes and getting absolutely nowhere, the little 
red work-car used for hauling tools and parts from station to station came 
rolling up another cable and stopped alongside. Standing in the car, which was 
only a small platform enclosed by a low railing, were three wide-eyed Brazil- 
ians, clinging for dear life to anything that seemed to offer support. With them 
they had brought a ladder, and it soon became apparent that they intended to 
use it to bridge the gap between the two cars and send one of the men across. 

After crossing himself several times and having received a little pushing 
from his companions, the third workman mounted the ladder and crawled on 
his hands and knees over to the roof of the stranded car. His safe arrival was 
met with cries of "Ole" and various other congratulations from all the passen- 
gers, but the cables still remained to be separated. After one end of the ladder 
had been secured to the work car, the worker forced the other end between 
the two cables. This way, when the smaller car began to move forward on its 
cables, which ran parallel to those of the stranded car, the ladder was run 
along between the two fouled cables, forcing them apart and eventually sep- 
arating them. All went well until the cables freed themselves, and then one 
very frightened Brazilian atop the cable car saw his means of escape flipped 
from the hands of his fellow workers and hurled high into the air, where it 
finally stopped rising and began tumbling end over end toward the city below. 
Terrified to begin with, and now stranded on the swaying car that must have 
seemed to him miles above the ground, the poor fellow went to pieces. Calling 
on all emotions his Latin ancestry provided, he moaned, he wept, and he wailed. 
His companions shrugged their shoulders and held up their hands to show that 
they were truly powerless to help. He could do nothing but hang on and ride 
the car in. Finally resigning himself to his fate, the poor devil flattened himself 
against the roof of the car and gripped the edge until his trembling knuckles 
turned white. Then the little mid-air trolley began again to climb the long cable 
toward the mountain top ahead. Every dip or sway of the car brought forth 
from its unwilling passenger alternate bits of mumbled prayer or loud excla- 
mations of profanity, the latter upsetting the feminine passengers no end. Their 
husbands just chuckled behind the packages. 

When the car finally reached the station, the worker who moments before 
had been a complete nervous wreck regained a marvelous amount of his com- 
posure, and having jumped lightly to the ground, he strode haughtily away, 
head held high, and acting full well the part of hero for the day. The women, 
delighted to have reached their destination at last, hurried from the car to take 
in the view. But the husbands, still sitting in the car, peered around their 
burdens and gave each other that understanding wink of creatures sharing a 
similar fate. For them, the most enjoyable part of the trip had just ended. 



March, 1958 23 

Nothing Phoney with Salinger 

Yvonne Edwards 
Rhetoric loi. Book Report 

I JUST FINISHED READING THIS BOOK. THIS GUY THAT 
wrote the book, J. D. Salinger, calls it The Catcher in the Rye. It is all 

about this sixteen-year-old kid, Holden Caiilfield. Holden ditches his prep 
school he was flunking out of and goofs around New York for a few days 
before he goes home. Boy, he has some terrific experiences in those few hours. 
He really does. He goes to these bars and all and tries to drink like a man, just 
because he is over six feet tall and wants to be grown-up. And that isn't all, 
either. He is in this crummy hotel that is full of perverts and queers, and just 
because he tries to be so man-about-the-townish, he gets tangled up with some 
old prostitute. Since he is a virgin and all, he is afraid to make love to her. That 
killed me. 

He feels all alone and cut off from society, but he's still got his ten-year-old 
sister, Phoebe, to love. She is lovable and understanding, and if you really want 
to know the truth, she is the only person he honestly loves. He did love his 
brother, Allie, but Allie has been dead for several years. He also likes his 
English teacher from the first prep school he went to — that is, until the teacher 
turned out to be a queer. Holden is full of hatred too. I mean he hates things 
like movies, phonies, night clubs, pimples, sex, and old men who pick at their 
noses. He finds the world full of crappy people who say one thing and mean 
another, and it makes him angry. He is unsure of himself because of this cold 
and complex world. But he finds some good in the world along with the bad, 
and he enjoys it. He really does. While he is shooting the bull with a mother 
of one his classmates, and while he is talking with some nuns, he really enjoys 
himself. He gets a large charge out of day dreaming, too. 

Once in a while, Salinger sticks some pretty corny scenes in his story. For 
example, Holden just happens to be walking down the street one day when 
he hears a little boy singing, "When a body catch a body coming through the 
rye." Later on, when old Phoebe asks him what he wants to be, he can only 
think he wants to be "the catcher in the rye." That doesn't make too much 
sense — being a catcher in the rye for a profession. Maybe Salinger is trying 
to criticize the grown-up world, but if he is, he should think of a better way 
to do it. What I mean is that he should use a more logical example. 

Holden swears too much. Everything is "goddam." Even though Salinger 
used teen-age lingo on purpose, all the swearing gets sort of monotonous. 
Holden uses what the grown-ups consider bad English. The adults would say 
that his sentences aren't complete — don't carry complete thoughts. But I bet 
that when they were young, they used some of those same double negatives and 
wrong words and all just like Holden does. Once, Holden says, "Nobody kept 



24 The Green Caldron 

answering," when what he means is, "Nobody answered." The author does 
these things on purpose. He does it because he knows that's the way teen-agers 
talk. He makes his book unique by using that teen lingo, too. 

This guy, Salinger, must really know his beans about teen-agers. Some of 
the things that happen to Holden and the way he thinks would shock a lot of 
parents right out of their pants. It would answer a few of the questions that 
parents ask themselves about their own responsibilities, though. I don't know 
too many grown-ups who can honestly tell how teens think and feel. Old 
Salinger does a pretty good job on it, though. 

This book really killed me. What I mean is that it is so funny that I 
cracked up from the first page to the last. There is hardly any bock that can 
make me bust right out laughing the way this one does. One odd thing that 
caught my attention was that even though the story is funny, it is sort of 
pathetic, too. Holden is trying to find himself in an adult world and he has a 
darn rough time doing it. His parents surely don't help him any by giving 
him any too much loving. Old Phoebe is about the only one that understands 
and helps him. It wouldn't seem so pathetic maybe if the author didn't have 
this one big fault — he makes me feel like I am some big wise grown-up looking 
down at a young sixteen-year-old boy, being amused by the youth's troubles — 
just because almost every youth has similar problems. Since the author is 
telling the story through Holden, he shouldn't make Holden seem so young 
and unwise and all. 

Even though I didn't Hke a few things in the book, I really enjoyed it. It 
held my interest because it told about a boy going through the same experi- 
ences that I am going through, and it was very refreshing because it was told 
by the boy in everyday, ordinary teen talk. It is very high class literature. I 
think I'll pick it up and read it all over again to get more of its meaning. You 
should do the same. You really should. 



The Struggle for the Location of the 
University of Illinois 

John N. Rutger 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 9 

THE NEED FOR A STATE UNIVERSITY IN ILLINOIS WAS 
recognized several years before one was established. During the mid- 
nineteenth century the main industry of Illinois was farming, often at 
a subsistence level. Many of the farmers realized that there was a need for 
research which could not be carried on by the individual farmers. With this 
thought in mind, the leading farmers and agriculturists of the state held a con- 



March, 1958 25 

vention at Granville on November 18, 1851, with Professor Jonathan Baldwin 
Turner as the guest speaker.^ Professor Turner had been educated at Yale 
and had later moved to a farm in Morgan County, where he proceeded to 
carry on agricultural experiments. At the resquest of the members of the 
convention, Professor Turner later had several hundred copies of the speech 
which he gave at the convention printed in pamphlet form and distributed. 

A second farmer's convention was held at Bloomington on June 27, 1860.^ 
Among other things, a letter signed by the civic leaders of the town of Urbana 
was read to the members of the convention. This letter was the first inkling of 
the foresight of the Urbana citizens. According to the Chicago Weekly Times, 
the Urbana group proposed to donate for the purposes of a state agricultural 
college a building erected at a cost of $100,000.^ They were thus seeking to 
get a state agricultural college that did not exist to occupy a seminary building 
that was not yet built. Indeed, the construction contract was not signed until 
five days after the letter was read to the convention. 

The letter was not such a spur-of-the-moment thing as one might be led 
to believe. The man responsible for it was probably the Reverend Mr. Stough- 
ton, a minister and promoter who first appeared in the Urbana-Champaign area 
during January of 1859. He circulated among the townspeople and suggested 
that they establish a college between the two towns, which were separated by 
one and a half miles of muddy fields. Three principal reasons were advanced 
for promoting the enterprise : "The interest in education, the hope of allaying 
the jealousy between the two cities, and the opportunity for personal gain 
through increased value of property."^ The citizens did not have any specific 
plan for establishing a school at this time, but they hoped the state might take 
it ofT their hands at a later date. The proposed Urbana-Champaign Institute 
appealed to many of the residents "because it offered a means of stopping up 
the awful 'gap' between the towns." ^ 

Mr. Stoughton pushed his idea through the proper channels, and on Febru- 
ary 21, 1861, the State Legislature granted a charter for the incorporation of 
the Urbana-Champaign Institute. The contract for construction of the building 
had been signed on July 2, 1860, but the cornerstone was not laid until the 
6th of August, 1861.^ Work on the building proceeded until August 31, 1861, 
at which time it was delayed for lack of funds. '^ The Civil War was going on 



^Mary Turner Carriel, The Life of Jonathan Baldwin Turner (Jacksonville, 1911), 
p. 96. 

" Burt E. Powell, "The Movement for Industrial Education and the Establishment of 
the University, 1840-1870," Semi-Centennial History of the University of Illinois (Urbana, 
1918), p. 199. 

* Chicago Weekly Times, June 27, 1860, as quoted by Powell, p. 199. 

* Powell, p. 201. 
" Powell, p. 198. 

* Central Illinois Gazette, July 31, 1861, as quoted by Powell, p. 202. 
' Powell, p. 203. 



26 The Green Caldron 

at this time, and people were hard pressed to meet financial obligations that had 
been incurred earlier. 

Meanwhile, the need for higher education had been recognized nationally. 
On July 2, 1862, President Lincoln signed a bill "for the purpose of promoting 
'the liberal and practical education of the industrial classes in the several 
pursuits and professions in life.' "^ The law, variously known as the Land- 
Grant Act of 1862 or the Morrill Act, provided each state with 30,000 acres of 
land or the equivalent in "scrip," for each senator and representative the said 
state had in Congress. Illinois' share amounted to 480,000 acres. The act further 
specified that the schools receiving land-grant properties must "offer studies 
in agriculture, mechanic arts, and military training — 'without excluding other 
scientific studies. ' "^ In order to claim the benefits of the act, the respective 
state legislatures were required to accept the provisions of the congressional 
grant within two years and to provide for the establishment of at least one 
college within five years. During the following February, the Illinois Legisla- 
ture passed a bill to accept the grant.^^ 

In the autumn of 1864 a governor's commission visited Champaign. The 
purpose of the commission was to inspect the Urbana-Champaign Institute, 
with the ultimate view of establishing a state college therein. A very favorable 
report for the selection of the Urbana-Champaign Institute was given, based, 
perhaps, on the cordial manner in which they were received — there seems to 
have been nothing else to base it upon.^^ 

At their meeting of December 19, 1864, the Champaign County Board of 
Supervisors prepared for the forthcoming session of the legislature. They 
decided to accept the oft'er of Stoughton and Babcock to transfer the Urbana- 
Champaign Institute building (which lacked $35,000-40,000 of being paid 
for) for $24,000 if the state located the university in it ; appropriated $15,000 
to buy a farm for the use of the university ; appointed a five-man committee 
to confer with the Illinois Central Railroad Company to secure cooperation for 
location of the university; appointed a committee to attend the next session 
of the legislature for the purpose of promoting an act enabling the county to 
borrow money and issue bonds ; and placed $5,000 at the disposal of the 
legislative committee to be used in securing the university .^^ 

In 1865 Senator Lindsay introduced a bill in the state legislature providing 
for the establishment of an industrial university. The Champaign group ob- 



** Edmund J. James, The Origin of the Land-Grant Act of 1862 (Urbana-Qiampaigr., 
1910), p. 8. 

^ mini Years, based on the research of Carl Stephens, '12, University Historian 
(Urbana, 1950), p. 8. 

'^"Journal of the House of Representatives of the Tzventy-third General Assembly of 
the State of Illinois, 1863 (Springfield, 1865), p. 621. 

" Powell, p. 205. 

" Powell, p. 204. 



March, 1958 27 

tained a copy of the bill, struck out the eleventh section (which provided for 
a committee to select the location of the university) and substituted a passage 
"locating the proposed University between the towns of Urbana and Cham- 
paign . . . [in] a certain edifice [the Urbana-Champaign Institute building] 
and grounds there situated. "^^ Value of the property was listed as $130,000. 
The building was not yet completed. The revised bill, which was introduced 
to the legislature, drew criticism from several communities throughout the 
state. The legislature then voted to allow competitive bids from the different 
counties. No other bids were imminent, and the whole affair was shelved for 
the remainder of the session. 

Their determination undaunted, the Champaign group made more prepara- 
tions in the fall of 1865. They wanted to have an undivided university located 
in their seminary building, but failure to get the entirety would have only 
intensified their determination to obtain at least a half or even a third. "There 
was a certain bull-dog tenacity of purpose in their efforts that boded ill for 
their opponents."^'* Turner and the other leading agriculturists, some of whom 
had been pushing the educational movement since the Granville Convention of 
1851, thought that their respective counties should have first chance at the 
university. In September of 1865, the Champaign County Board of Supervisors 
met again and agreed to purchase the "elephant" (as the building had come 
to be known by its enemies) and attached farm, on "the express condition that 
the said Industrial University be located in this county by the Legislature at 
its next session."^^ In December another $5,000 was appropriated and given 
to a three-man committee to use in securing the location of the college in 
Champaign County. This fund became known to Champaign County's oppo- 
nents as the second "slush" fund. 

The Illinois Legislature of 1866 decided not to divide the Industrial Uni- 
versity fund among the existing colleges of the state. The decision was made 
contrary to the desires of a group of Illinois college presidents, who thought 
that the fund should be proportioned out to their respective colleges. In the 
meantime a new crisis had arisen. The five years allotted the states for accept- 
ance of the land grants were nearly up, and Illinois still had not taken all the 
necessary steps. The problem was solved by an act of Congress, passed July 23, 
1866, which extended the time of acceptance for five more years. ^"^ The stage 
was now ready for the 1867 session of the legislature and the contest that 
ensued. 



" Taken from a committee report given at the Industrial University Convention, 
Bloomington, December 4, 1865, as quoted by Carriel, p. 180. 

^'Powell, p. 211. 

^^ Record of the Board of Supervisors. September 13, 1865, III: 385, as quoted by 
Powell, pp. 213-4. 

" Carriel, p. 193. 



28 The Green Caldron 

Burt E. Powell gives us the following report relative to Champaign's 
efforts : 

The legislature opened the first Monday in January, 1867. The Champaign 
County committee, at Mr. Griggs' prompting, had prepared for the fight of 
the next three months by engaging the principal reception room of the 
Leiand Hotel, with several suites of parlors and bedrooms on the second floor. 
The reception room, holding two hundred people, was used for general enter- 
tainment. A buffet service was installed, and arrangements were made for 
serving elaborate meals. Near Mr. Griggs' quarters were placed those of the 
Democratic and Republican state chairmen. At once lobbying was begun on a 
lavish scale. Members, whether Democrats or Republicans, hostile or friendly, 
were invited to the Leiand for drinks, for light refreshments, or for huge 
oyster suppers or quail dinners. They were pressed to bring with them any 
of their constituents who happened to be in town, and to order for such 
guests as freely as for themselves. They were supplied with cigars, and groups 
of them were taken to the theater. During the week three or four of the 
Champaign county committee were always on the ground, and at week ends, 
when entertainment was at its height, eight or ten would come over. All bills 
were sent in to be paid from the $40,000 fund subscribed or appropriated for 
the purpose. No other community had fitted up headquarters in this way, or 
made any preparations for the entertainment of members. The house was 
greatly impressed by the earnestness of Champaign county, and many a 
representative voted for the Champaign bill." 

Mr. Griggs' foresight was probably the factor which ultimately secured the 
location of the university at Urbana. 

A joint committee of the legislature, which had been appointed to appraise 
the bids of the various communities, gave the following report to the general 
assembly on February 16, 1867 : 

The county of Champaign proposes to donate the Champaign and Urbana 
University, a new brick building, with stone foundation . . . having cost 
$120,000. Said building is nearly ready for occupancy. We estimate its cash 
value at $75,000. Also, 10 acres of land, in the center of which said University 
stands, being about equi-distant between and within one mile of the depot of 
tlie Illinois Central Railroad, in the city of Champaign, and the court house, 
in the city of Urbana. We estimate the cash value of said land at $2,500. 
Also, 160^ acres of well cultivated farm land, within one-half mile of said 
University and adjoining the city of Champaign, through which runs a 
stream of ever-living water — the cash value of which land we estimate at 
$20,000 . . . Also, 410 acres of like farm land, adjoining thereto, with orchard, 
farm-house and barn — the estimated cash value of which is $30,000 . . . Also, 
400 acres of like farm land, within about two miles from said University — the 
cash value of which is estimated at $20,000 . . . The entire amount of land of- 
fered by Champaign county is 980 acres. Also $2,000 worth of shade, orna- 
mental and fruit trees . . . Also, $100,000 in Champaign County 10 per cent 20 
year bonds— the cash value of which is estimated at $100,000. Also, $50,000 in 
freight on the Illinois Central Railroad, for the said Industrial University — 
the estimated cash value of which is $30,000. 



" Powell, pp. 242-3. 



March, 1958 29 

The total offers of Champaign county are estimated, in cash, at $285,000." 
The committee then gave similar detailed reports on the bids of the other 
counties, which may be summed up as follows : 

McLean County's bids totaled $470,000 for a university to be established 
in Bloomington. 

Logan County offered bonds and properties valued at $385,000 for the 
establishment of the university in Lincoln. 

Morgan County offered some $315,000 in bonds and property plus the 
Illinois College valued at $176,000, which was located in Jacksonville, for a 
total of $491,000. 

The Champaign group arose in arms after the presentation of the joint 
committee report to the general assembly. The Board of Supervisors issued a 
statement claiming that "Champaign County's bid, if valued as the joint com- 
mittee valued McLean's bid, would have amounted to $555,400, an excess 
of $85,000 over Bloomington . . . also that a scarcity of water in and about 
Bloomington rendered it wholly impracticable as a site."^^ Upon hearing of 
this, McLean County replied by issuing a circular which was distributed to 
the general assembly. The circular gave wholehearted support to the joint 
committee for estimating the bids at actual cash value and not on local assess- 
ments. The charge about the "scarcity of water in and about Bloomington" 
was denotmced as entirely false. 

By this time Champaign County's methods were regarded by her com- 
petitors as highly unfair. Her lobbying committee, her apparent influence over 
the Chicago and Springfield newspapers, and her exaggerated reports of the 
value of her bid made her a prime target for criticism from other communities 
and, surprisingly, from certain home-town interests. A circular was distributed 
in Springfield on February 6th, supposedly subscribed to by a group of Cham- 
paign residents. The circular, which was reprinted by the Bloomington Panta- 
graph, stated : "We believe that a good portion of the five thousand dollars 
appropriated [by the Champaign County Board of Supervisors] in December, 
1866, has already been used to bribe the public press, and that almost the entire 
sum [$15,000] is to be squandered corruptly, as the five thousand before."^" 
There seems to have been some suspicion that this circular was published by 
one of the competitive communities. 

On February 20, 1867, House Bill No. 70 — "an act to provide for the 
organization, endowment and maintenance of the Illinois Industrial Univer- 
sity" — was read to the lower chamber of the general assembly. ^^ Section eleven 
of the bill provided for the location of the university in Champaign Cotmty. 
After the reading, Mr. Eppler, of Jacksonville, moved for the adoption of an 



"^^ Reports made to the General Assembly of Illinois, 1867 (Springfield, 1867), 1 : 443-5. 
^® Turner Manuscripts, Springfield, as quoted by Powell, p. 259. 
^ Bloomington Pantograph, February 8, 1867, as quoted by Powell, p. 260. 
^ Journal of the House of Representatives of the Twenty-fifth General Assembly of 
the State of Illinois, 1867 (Springfield, 1867), II : 442. 



30 The Green Caldron 

amendment which would strike out section eleven and insert a passage locating 
the university at Jacksonville, in Morgan County. The amendment was defeated 
by a vote of 61 to 20. Mr. Green of Dewitt tried an amendment inserting 
McLean County's bid in place of Champaign's. This was defeated by a vote 
of 58 to 26. Mr. McGailliard moved that the university be located at Lincoln 
in Logan County, and was overruled 60 to 2L The bill with section eleven 
intact — locating the university in Urbana of Champaign County — was then 
passed by a vote of 67 to 10. 

The bill was introduced to the Senate three days later. The ensuing course 
of events roughly paralleled those that had occurred in the House. Mr. Metcalf 
moved to locate the university in McLean County. The motion was defeated 
13 to 12. A motion by Mr. McConnell to locate in Morgan County was defeated 
17 to 8. Mr. McConnell then tried Lincoln, in Logan County, but this was also 
defeated. Mr. Fort proposed a bill naming an alternate location in case Cham- 
paign defaulted. This bill was defeated 13 to 12. Mr. Strain became rather 
sarcastic and suggested that the act should not be declared invalid merely 
because it ignored the superior bids of other counties. His suggestion was 
promptly tabled. The bill was read for a third time and passed 18 to 7.^^ It was 
sent to the governor, who signed the bill on February 28. Champaign County 
thus became the site of the Illinois Industrial University, the name of which 
was changed to the University of Illinois in 1885.^^ 

After any struggle there are bound to be verbal repercussions, and this 
contest was no exception. An article which appeared in the Jacksonville Journal 
claimed that the Champaign "ring" used a "slush" fund of at least $12,000 
(actually it was nearly $17,000, but the Jacksonville group did not know this) 
to influence the legislature, press correspondents, editors, and others. Referring 
to Champaign's dilemma when it became apparent the other counties had pre- 
sented better offers, the Journal said : "Their advocate and champion in the 
House, S. A. Hurlburt, a South Carolinian by birth, and social sympathy 
and philosophy (to say nothing worse of him) . . . [came to the rescue and 
told] his friends that the bid of Champaign would be written above all others, 
let the joint committee appraise them as they would."^^ On another occasion 
Mr. Hurlburt said "that this whole scheme of educating the farmer was a 

d d humbug, and that he wanted to get it off down to Champaign where 

it would die as quickly as possible."-^ A few days later the Chicago Times 



'^Journal of the Senate of the Tzventy-fifth General Assembly of the State of Illinois, 
1867 (Springfield, 1867), p. 1052. 

^ mini Years, p. 25. 

^Jacksonville Journal, March 16 and 18, 1867, as quoted by Powell, pp. 496-8. 

"-^ Ibid., p. 49S. 



March, 195S 31 

printed a "confession" by a supposed member of the Champaign "ring."26 
This was merely a colorful recital of the Champaign group's activities at the 
Leland Hotel in early 1867. 

In 1915 Allan Nevins interviewed Clark Robinson Griggs, who had been 
the head of the Champaign delegation and also a representative during 1867, 
and obtained the following report relative to the selection of Urbana: 

[Mr. Griggs wrangled his way into] . . . the chairmanship of the Committee 
on Agriculture and the Mechanic Arts and the privilege of naming a majority 
of its members — it being the body before which all bills for the location of 
the college would come. 

As the session proceeded, the members for the other cities and especially for 
Jacksonville, began to complain because their bills were not reported out of 
committee. Repeatedly Mr. Eppler would rise and inquire the reason for the 
delay in the case of the Jacksonville bill; and as often Mr. Griggs would 
inform him that he had attempted to call his committee together and had 
failed to secure a quorum. He would publicly and ostentatiously summon the 
members of this committee and later whisper them not to appear. In this 
manner the bills were prevented from coming up until Mr. Griggs had 
marshalled his strength.^ 

The selection of Urbana was by a legal vote in the general assembly, but 
the tactics employed by the Champaign County group were rather doubtfully 
honest. The Champaign group realized that the representatives were human, 
and evidently the other counties did not. With this thought in mind the Cham- 
paign group created their "slush" or "corruption" fund. The actual amount of 
the much-criticized fund was calculated by a thorough check of deeds, titles, 
bond issues, and other records to be $16,789.^'^ The presently thriving twin 
cities make this $16,789 seem one of the wisest investments made since the 
white men purchased Manhattan Island from the Indians for $24 worth of 
trinkets. 



^Chicago Times, March 21, 1867, as quoted by Powell, 506-514. 

^ Taken from an interview of Allan Nevins with Clark Robinson Griggs in 1915, as 
quoted by Powell, pp. 519-21. 
'^ Powell, p. 270. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Carriel, Mary Turner. The Life of Jonathan Baldwin Turner. Jacksonville: privately 
printed, 1911. 

mini Years. Based on the research of Carl Stephens, '12, University Historian. Urbana: 
University of Illinois Press, 1950. 

James, Edmund J. The Origin of the Land Grant Act of 1S62. Urbana- Champaign : Uni- 
versity Press, 1910. 

Journal of the ILouse of Representatives of the Tiventy-third General Assembly of the 
State of Illinois, 1S63. Springfield: Baker and Phillips, Printers, 1865. 

Journal of the House of Representatives of the Tzvcnty-fifth General Assembly of the 
State of Illinois, II, 1867. Springfield : Baker, Bailhache, & Co., Printers, 1867. 

Journal of the Senate of the Twenty-fifth General Assembly of the State of Illinois, 1867. 
Springfield : Baker, Bailhache, & Co., Printers, 1867. 

Powell, Burt E. "The Movement for Industrial Education and the Establishment of the 



32 The Green Caldron 

University 1840-1870." Semi-CententUal History of the University of Illinois. Urbana : 
University of Illinois, 1918. 
Reports made to the General Assembly of Illinois, 1867, I. Springfield: Baker, Bailhache, 
& Co., Printers, 1867. 



Rhet as Writ 

Police can't stop drinking. 

Great credit should be given to the early pioneer of the New World, for it 
was with the ingenuity of their minds that they populated the Western Hemis- 
phere. 



. . . the confession made by certain members of the White Sox team that 
they had accepted bribes from a gambling combine. . . . 



She would rather make pie filling from a boxed product than one from a 
cook-book. 



Her delicately tilted nose imparts a slight expression of expectoration as 
though waiting for a gentleman caller. 



Every salesman should know how to dress and approach a customer. 



Sarge is Regular Army right down to the spitshine on his shoes and his 
close-cropped haircut. 



She has a medium-length haircut, which falls from her head in little blond 
wavelets. 



In Qiicago as in other cities of the United States, prostitution operates be- 
hind the closed eyes of the law according to the newspapers. 



A party can be very dull if there is no one at the piano, nor a group in the 
coroner bellowing out familiar songs. 



Arbor Suites is an experimental temporary housing accomodation for 
women (originally designed for married students). 



Agnostic : a person who believes in God but not in his existence 



Golf is a sport that can be enjoyed by any reasonably healthy person re- 
gardless of sex. 






The Contributors 



Lloyd L. Lehn — Princeton 

Douglas Royer — Quincy 

Rcte Lesser — Roosevelt 

Ward Malisch — Henry-Senachwine 

Nancy Cohernour — ^Bloomington 

David Abrahamsonr—Moline Senior 

Leo Kruenegel — ha Grove of Farina 

David Chambers — Canton 

Max Flandorfer—V. S. Navy, G.E.D. 

James Hockenhull — ^Wheaton Community 

Virginia Vida — Macomb 

Stephen Weiser — University High, Bloomington, Ind. 

Myrna Levine — Senn 

Andrew Sedlock — ^Taylor Springs 

Carl F. Ahegg — ^Woodruff 

Bennett E. Gales — Rantoul Twp. 

Yvonne Edwards — Hyde Park 

John N. Rutger — Noble Community 



III. COJ.L, 
6 c/ 



Fhe Green Caldron 

A MAGAZINE OF FRESHMAN WRITING 



«rasj7y Of /a;... 



CONTENTS 



Katherine Hirt: The Green Caldron as a Freshman Writing Project ... 1 

James H. Stein, Jr.: The Fraternity's Right to Discriminate 2 

Sandra Rae Leboe: The Educational Value of TV Quiz Programs ... 3 

Steve Born: The Little Buckle 4 

Martha Solomon: Out in the Cold 5 

Joan Haynes: He Lives in the Past 5 

Vernalie Moberg: Eloise 7 

Kay Franklin: The Horse and I 9 

Louis J. Huhsman: A Cup of Tea 10 

Klaus E. Biallotoons: The Fighter 11 

Judith Raphael: A Poetic Novel 13 

Merle Gordon: Conscience in a Practical World 14 

Tom. Priebe: How to Get Ahead in Life 15 

Rae Lesser: Reflection Through a Looking Glass 17 

Doris L. Gould: Putting on Her Face 18 

Robert Matchett: Why? 19 

Rhet as Writ 20 



Vol. 27, No. 4 April, 1958 



UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 



T 

J- HE Green Caldron is published four times a year by the 
Rhetoric Staff at the University of Illinois. Material is chosen 
from themes and examinations written by freshmen in the Uni- 
versity, Permission to publish is obtained for all full themes, 
including those published anonymously. Parts of themes, how- 
ever, are published at the discretion of the committee in charge. 
Members of the committee in charge of The Green Caldron 
are Phyllis Rice, Edward Levy, David Gladish, George Estey, 
and Carl Moon, Editor. 



The Green Caldron as a 
Freshman Writing Project 

Katherine Hirt 
Rhetoric 102, Theine 11 

THE RHETORIC STAFF AT THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
undoubtedly performs one of the great inspirational acts of its career 
when selecting ingredients for The Green Caldron mixture. The 
components of this "melting pot" are chosen with thoughtful care. 

Unknown to most freshmen, during their first semester's rhetoric ex- 
perience, their teachers are clandestinely analyzing all 100, 101, and 102 
papers in an effort to claim newly-found genii as the ultimate products of 
their teaching method. After selecting three or four outstanding themes 
from the semester's journalistic efforts, the more ambitious submit these 
gems to The Caldron staff, confident that at least one of this exceptional 
array will be published. 

Much to Instructor Snodgrass's bewilderment and amazement, however, 
the next issue bears no trace of his students' masterpieces. What is wrong 
with the judges? Perhaps they are in need of education, sense of humor, or 
even glasses. Oh, well — resignedly, he begins to read The Caldron selections 
to test their qualities in comparison with his entries. But, alas, he is sadly 
disillusioned, for, in his opinion, these themes do not measure up to his 
rigorous standards. Discouraged, yet not without a faint vestige of hope, he 
prepares a careful plan of action to make certain that one of his students' 
chef-d'oeuvres will surely be included in the next issue. 

Perhaps the quality of the themes actually is not much above the norm, 
or perhaps Professor Snodgrass's standards are too high for freshman writ- 
ing. Perhaps, too, he is so interested in promoting his own students that his 
objectivity is malfunctioning. Certainly, in light of several past Green Caldron 
issues, the infallibility of the judges could be challenged. The writings are 
often choppy and incoherent, the author sometimes straying from his thesis. 
These digressions usually result in a serious loss of the "punch" as well as 
the unity of the papers, thus raising more questions in regard to effective 
writing techniques than supplying answers. 

On the other hand, the large proportion of Caldron themes are excellent 
examples of how well-written papers should be developed, organized, and 
executed. However, what actually constitutes a "well written" paper or a 
"good" example of effective expression should always be the problem fore- 
most in the minds of the judges when reviewing the entries. Since human 
nature and standards vary so widely, one theme that would rate a "C" from 

[1] 



2 The Green Caldron 

one instructor could conceivably be given an "A" by another. This is un- 
doubtedly why Instructor Snodgrass finds it difficult to fathom how "C" 
themes could possibly have been selected instead of his "A" contributions. 
Though these human differences in interpretations are allowable, critical 
analysis of all themes for originality of subject, as well as for content, and 
careful scrutiny of all papers for finer details of grammar and coherency 
would greatly minimize such human differences. 

In the final analysis, however, the staff has created a powerful incentive 
to freshman writers. If the thought-provoking writings occasionally evi- 
denced in previous issues continue to appear in The Caldron as examples 
and models, the campus will undoubtedly see a steady increase in the quality 
of freshman writing through the coming years. 



The Fraternity's Right to 
Discriminate 

James H. Stein^ Jr. 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 6 

{Author's note: The author does not necessarily approve of the discrimination 
current in fraternities. Like Voltaire, however, he will defend to the end the 
fraternity's right to discriminate.) 

EVERY FEW YEARS THE FRATERNITY SYSTEM IS BE- 
sieged by a small group of would-be abolitionists who, if they could have 
their way, would "integrate" every Greek-letter house on campus before 
sundown. Paradoxically, these thoughtless people consider themselves the 
champions of justice. Actually, they are attempting to abolish one of the fra- 
ternity's greatest rights : privacy. 

These people fail to realize that the fraternity house is set up as a well- 
organized home. A fraternity is a large family, a group of men who work and 
relax together in a congenial family atmosphere. Like any household, the 
fraternity maintains the privacy of a well-ordered family. 

Joining a fraternity is a privilege, not a right. Just as a family may invite 
to dinner friends of its choosing, and ignore others, so may a fraternity also 
pledge people who are compatible with the group, and ignore others whom it 
may not know or care to know. Since no one person or group of persons has 
the right to join a fraternity, there is no wrong done when a fraternity re- 
fuses to pledge a person or persons, for any reason. 

This is all that need be said. Since, by its discrimination, the fraternity 
oversteps the rights of no one, such discrimination is legal. The reasons for 
the discrimination, be they financial, social, racial or religious, and the moral 
aspects of such discrimination, are clearly irrelevant. 



April, 1958 3 

The Educational Value of TV 
Quiz Programs 

Sandra Rae Leboe 

Rhetoric Placement Theme 

NOW FOR $150,000, MR. SCHULTZ, CAN YOU TELL US THE 
name of a President of the United States who was an ardent cricket 
fan, what famous match was played in his honor, the year the match 
took place, and the names of the participants ? 

How often we have heard questions of this highly obscure nature coming 
over our living room television sets. We are amazed at the unending flow of 
knowledge which pours out of contestants week after week. Our eyes are 
glued to the screen and we hold our breath while the contestant stumbles and 
cracks his knuckles. There is an audible sigh of relief when he finally tallies 
up another $10,000 of his already fantastic winnings. 

What do we gain by watching these quiz shows week after week? Very 
little, would be my reply. We might make mental note of a few isolated facts 
which we were heretofore unaware of, but there is no real educational value 
to be derived from TV viewing of this sort. 

We realize that a great majority of the contestants are not necessarily 
people with educated backgrounds, but people who possess photographic 
memories. The contestant is an expert in one particular field and questions are 
geared to his realm of knowledge. Child prodigies and people of dubious mental 
alertness are not uncommon. 

The fact remains that we are being entertained by these quiz programs. 
We are fascinated by the odd assortment of characters and the master of cere- 
monies' quips. True, we are impressed by the vast amount of knowledge dis- 
played, but we do not associate these people with ourselves. 

An educated person, in my opinion, is one who is as well-rounded in his 
information as he is in his personality. He is a mature individual who would 
never flaunt his knowledge in front of millions of viewers. He puts his educa- 
tion to use, in his home, community and business. He may not achieve a 
monetary reward for his intelligence, but he has the inner satisfaction of 
knowing that he is applying his knowledge. 

Just as there are many differences between a quiz show contestant and a 
truly educated person, so there are differences between a quiz show and some 
program of educational value, such as a press conference. A quiz show addict is 
not harmful, as long as he does not mistake the gems of wisdom he secures 
from a half-hour program for an education that takes many, many years to 
acquire. 



4 The Green Caldron 

The Little Buckle 

Steve Born 
Rhetoric 101, Theme C 

UPON MY ARRIVAL AT THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 1 
immediately noticed that the majority of the students on the campus 
were supporters of the Ivy League fad. Like a sickness, the Ivy League 
fad starts by affecting just a few, but it soon spreads far and wide, conquering 
the multitudes. My job was to put an end to this disease. But first let me 
diagnose it. 

The symptoms of the illness are usually quite evident. A small, unique 
hat often adorns the patient's head. The hat is a bright, appalling plaid with 
a small buckle located in the rear. The shirt of the victim is something to 
behold. It is similar to the normal shirt in all respects except one. That one 
minor difference is in the placement of the buttons. Granted, it has buttons 
on the cuffs and the front, which is perfectly normal. But for some unknown 
reason, it has buttons at varying intervals on the collar also. This is known 
as a button-down collar. The pants of the victim are also novel in one respect. 
They possess a small buckle pasted across the seat. It has yet to be determined 
whether or not this buckle is holding together the pants or the patient. The 
little buckle can also be found on shoes, blouses, jackets, skirts, and even on 
other little buckles. Halting the buckle's advance was going to be a genuine 
challenge. 

First I decided to get to the afflicted and discuss the problem sensibly. My 
attempt was a dismal failure. The Ivy Leaguers accused me of trying to 
change the nation's styling. My second plan was even less successful. I merely 
inquired about the chances of halting production on all Ivy League clothes, 
and I was forced to do some remarkable running to outdistance the manufac- 
turers and designers who had come to lynch me. I was now forced to put my 
final plan into effect. I decided to display the absurdity of Ivy League clothes 
by making a public spectacle of myself wearing them. I went Ivy League. I 
wore clothes that were decorated from head to toe with buckles, and possessed 
the brightest greens, reds, and charcoals available. I had buttons surrounding 
the collar of my shirt. Now I was combating the Ivy League. 

My results were astounding. I liked the buckle on the seat of my trousers ; 
it made sitting down so uncomfortable. I enjoyed the feeling of security one 
can obtain only by having his neck buttoned down securely. Even the buckle 
on my shoes, which I was constantly tripping over, fascinated me. The whole 
pattern of my campaign was clear to me now : I had contaminated myself 
somewhere on the battlefield. I was the loser, having succumbed to the little 
buckle adorning my shoes, jacket, pants, and cap. And even more surprising, 
I liked being Ivy League. 



Ai^ril, 1958 



Out in the Cold 



Martha Solomon 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 12 

ANOTHER SHARP, SNOW-FILLED GUST OF WIND BLEW 
against my back, and practically pushed me around the corner of the 
block. Instinctively I drew my coat collar closer around me and shoved 
my hands deeper into my pockets, although I did not really need to, for my 
coat was very warm and my gloves thick. With this reassuring thought of 
warmth flitting across my mind, I was startled to notice a small boy huddled 
against the stone molding which projected from a store front. 

The child was visibly shaking, and this was certainly understandable, for 
his coat was thin and patched, as were his pants, and his shoes showed evi- 
dence that other pairs of feet had walked and run in them, for they were worn, 
and far too large for his feet. His shaggy blond hair, with no cap to cover it, 
fell into his face. 

His face looked rather expressionless, but as I stooped down, his gaze 
focused on me, and a chill went up my spine to see the eyes, not of a child, but 
of one who had known suffering and the hard realities of the world about him. 

Having taken my lunch hour, I was on my way back to the store where I 
worked, and so I timidly asked him to come along. Trying to read his thoughts, 
I added, "Loads of people stop in to warm up on days like this." He did come 
along, but again that strange feeling came over me, for when he stood up, he 
didn't hesitate, but yet he didn't do it with enthusiasm ; he just came. 

At the store we sat and munched on cookies left over from someone's lunch. 
He told me his name was Bob — not Bobbie, but Bob. In this instance and with 
each sentence he uttered, his apparent maturity appalled me. His solemnity 
never relaxed, although I tried and tried to make him smile. 

As the afternoon wore on, I returned to him after each customer, for he 
was content to sit quietly and observe. However, when I started toward his 
chair once again, I found him gone, and no one had seen him leave. The inde- 
pendent and ragged little boy with the knowing eyes had once again stepped 
out into the cold. 

He Lives in the Past 

Joan Haynes 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 3 

RIGHT AFTER DINNER THE OLD MAN HITCHED HIS 
suspenders up over his immense stomach and hobbled in to his rocking 
chair beside the television set. His daughter began clearing the table 
with a loud clatter and crash of dishes in the sink ; his grandson stretched out 
on the floor and instructed his small son to turn on the television — loud ; the 
great-grandson and great-granddaughter used their father's command as an 



6 The Green Caldron 

occasion for a noisy argument. Family dinners were always like that — noisy, 
nerve-wracking and always climaxed by the early leave-taking of the grandson 
and his family. 

The old man's head was splitting, and his pipe tasted bitter — probably 
from the small red berries surreptitiously lodged there by the little boy. He 
had tried, earlier in the evening, to engage his grandson's wife in a discussion 
of entertainment nowadays compared to entertainment in his time, but her 
attention seemed to wander as she watched — unmoved — her small daughter 
"dressing up" in his own best hat and coat. A nice girl, his granddaughter-in- 
law, but a little empty-headed for his taste. His grandson used to hear him tell 
about hunting and fishing when the boy's father was still alive, but he too 
seemed uninterested of late. Of course, he had heard it all before, but memories 
were all that were left, and one would think the boy would like to hear about it 
occasionally. 

Living with his daughter left the old man with much to be desired. He over- 
heard snatches of remarks : ". . . ought to be satisfied there with Lila, nothing 
to do but eat and sleep. ... I wouldn't take him, gadding around all the time, 
just wears her out. ... so hard hearing ; that television just blares all over the 
neighborhood." He didn't like to turn on the television because it made his 
eyes burn to sit close enough to hear it, but Lila was always telling him to go 
in and watch television ; she could lift a heavy chair or carry a big sack of 
groceries easier herself than she could bother with his slow, painful attempts 
to help. 

The family was good to him ; they never hesitated or refused to get him 
anything he wanted, but they would glance at each other with a mocking smile 
or a frown of annoyance, depending on their mood, when he brought up an inci- 
dent more than two weeks old. Visiting was a lost art, thought the old man. 
These days one didn't visit ; one watched television and darn well liked it, or 
else ! One didn't interrupt the news reports to tell how the Negroes would 
have been handled back in 1900. One didn't, that is, unless he could withstand 
a withering look from his daughter and polite but slightly annoyed glances 
from the rest of the viewers. 

He had wondered, once, if an old friend of his — a rich man independent 
enough to live alone — didn't enjoy life now, but one afternoon's visit had con- 
vinced him that financial means didn't make the difference. His old friend was 
unhappy and neglected too. The difference was age — just old age. The hus- 
tling, busy younger generation just didn't have the time to listen to the interest- 
ing anecdotes of a past era. 

The pattern was always the same : after his grandson gathered up the 
mischievous, cute, affectionate children and left, he would hunt up his cane and 
hobble into his room. After he cleaned his pipe out and lit fresh tobacco, he 
would take out his box of old pictures and go through them again. He especially 
liked one of his wife, taken when they were courting. Those were the days he 
liked to remember. 



April, 1958 



Eloise 



Vernalie Moberg 
Rhetoric 102, Book Report 

ON EXAMINING KAY THOMPSON'S DELIGHTFUL BOOK 
Eloise, a person's initial comment might well be ''How sweet for the 
children," and a glance at the illustrations would certainly promote 
that conviction. Artist Hilary Knight has taken advantage of a variety of the 
techniques of contemporary juvenile art — fresh color, simple line drawings, 
and a cartoonist's impressionism — and, with Miss Thompson, has developed a 
principal character so utterly lovable and human that the only possible de- 
scription is "Eloise." The incorrigible yellow straw (topped always with a 
candy-pink hair bow), the lace-collared, puffed-sleeved blouse and short, 
pleated skirt which refuse to agree upon a common waistline, and white knee- 
stockings matched with baby-doll patents, affirm, upon first observation, that 
the book was intended for a lollipop-consuming audience ; yet, when the smug 
suggestion-of-a-mouth and the all-knowing, mischievous eyes are perceived, a 
person realizes the truth in the subtitle's warning, "A book for precocious 
grown-ups." Furthermore all doubts for the book's maturity are removed 
when, on the first page, Eloise herself announces with the stance and super- 
lative dignity of Gainsborough's Blue Boy "1 am Eloise, I am six." 

With this profound statement as beginning, Eloise proceeds, in her own 
incoherent way, to relate the story of her exciting life at the Plaza, the ex- 
clusive hotel where she resides with her English nurse, Nanny. Conse- 
quently, within a modicum of time, the reader has become intimately acquainted 
with Eloise and Nanny as well as with Wennie, Skipper Dee, Sabina and Say- 
lor (Eloise's dog, turtle, and dolls, respectively) and the rest of the crowd at 
the Plaza. Skillful narrative and almost perfectly collaborated drawings carry 
the reader through episodes in the daily life of Eloise on cycles of intellectual 
snickers. While this characteristic of light entertainment is an integral and 
undeniable part of Eloise, the unappreciated great significance of the book is 
the philosophical message communicated through the clear, unprejudiced (at 
least by the reader's specific beliefs) eyes of a child — -the invitation to the 
reader to look within himself and others — and laugh. 

This subtle invitation to introspection is accomplished by a light, nearly 
frivolous, journalistic style. The author influences her reader to question the 
mores of society and of individual behavior by first letting him enjoy himself, 
then alluding to the truth involved in Eloise's pint-size but astronomical witti- 
cisms. The entertainment is achieved most obviously through three basic tech- 
niques — simple thought pattern and syntax, loose story structure (planned this 
way purposely by the author to display juvenile laxity of organization, or 



8 The Green Caldron 

spontaneity), and a vocabulary evidencing the child's complete assimilation 
of environment. 

In the first place, a simplicity of thought structure is employed to please 
the reader. One of Eloise's favorite locutions, for instance, is exemplified in 
the following passage: 

"Here's what I can do 

Chew gum 

Write 

Spell 

Stand on my head for the longest amount of time . . . 

And here's the thing of it 

Most of the time I'm on the telephone" 

The disregard for sufficient and proper sentence structure and punctua- 
tion on the part of Miss Thompson is justified in that the more direct, 
subconscious style of expression, which is facilitated by the colorful illustra- 
tions, appeals almost instantly to psychological word association. Connotation 
is of primary concern. 

Organization — or disorganization as the case may be — also implements an 
enjoyment of the book. While this is probably only an elaboration of the pre- 
vious phase, of indiscriminate order within the sentence, the loosely organized 
plot en masse is of greater significance, for an over-all impression is obtained 
from it. The reader remembers the unique methods of Eloise for riding ele- 
vators, calling room service, getting up in the morning, visiting the assorted 
rooms of the hotel, and, in general, finding excitement, more than any one 
specific quotation from the book. 

Most memorable of all Kay Thompson's methods of communication is her 
will for Eloise to mimic. Expressions such as the pantomime of Nanny 
("Nanny says she would rawther I didn't talk talk talk all the time"), refer- 
ences to the waiter Renee ("Bonjour, Eloise, void voire petit dejewier"), 
and the over-all light satire of adult conversation ("My mother has AT&T 
stock and she knows an ad man". . "an office on Madison Avenue". . . "for 
Lord's sake". , . "meringue glacee") appeal to the average sense of humor but 
leave a note of tragedy with the thought that children depend upon and believe 
so completely in adults while grown-ups do extremely little to uphold the trust. 

Eloise, even publishers admit, is sold basically as light entertainment, and 
nothing will ever come of any forementioned underlying significance because 
of the limited scope of the material involved. Its authors, in fact, had only fun 
in mind when they collaborated upon the book. Kay Thompson is a dancer, 
and Hilary Knight has other interests in the commercial art of the magazine 
world. Still, Eloise must be admired, in that few books attain such volatility 
and simultaneously express so deep a message. 

All in all, Eloise is simply a portrait of Eloise, and the beaming six-year- 



April, 1958 9 

old child is the embcxiiment of the secret child desires of every human soul. 
The reader, having experienced the book twice (once for sake of humor and 
again for an analysis of purpose) will find in himself, if he gazes honestly 
into a mirror, a remnant yet of his juvenile capricious longings. He will 
recognize that they are now clothed in the inhibitions of modern society's 
protocol, and, if he has been successful in his perusals of Eloisc and is basically 
sincere, he will laugh. Then, he will consider his own goals and accomplish- 
ments. "Are they so superior," he will ask, "to the childlike ideals and deeds 
of Eloise ? " 



The Horse and I 

Kay Franklin 
Rhetoric loi. Final Theme 

I HAVE SPENT MANY HOURS HORSEBACK RIDING, ALONE, 
going no specific place, in no hurry. During my rides I have had time to 

look at, and really see, some of the wonders of my country, some of the 
works of God. I discovered that each tree, each timid animal, each wild flower 
was at once both an individual and a member of a group, neither a conformist 
nor a rebel. I found, and learned to find, qualities of beauty in the most forlorn, 
twisted oak, as well as in the lovely, praised violet. An originality and a mag- 
nificence seldom paralleled I saw in the sunrises and sunsets. An awareness 
that the beauty of nature was far from superficial started growing in me. 

But this awareness was not the only thing that sprang to life through my 
associations with horses. It was during these associations that I first conceived 
the idea that I would slow down and not rush through life. When a person 
spends a large amount of time in solitude, he tends to be introspective, to ask 
himself just what he intends to get out of life and what he intends to do with 
the precious years given him. My riding offered me this chance for solitude 
and introspection. Out of the latter has grown my belief that I must take my 
time in doing the things I enjoy, as long as I am not harming another person 
or myself. 

My understanding of human nature has, like my awareness of nature, also 
benefited from time spent with horses. Spoil a horse to an extreme and he 
becomes mean and hard to control or handle. Love him and treat him gently 
and he responds. Tease him and he becomes stubborn, rebellious. Pay no need 
to his feelings, and he returns the indifference. 

So, when I get in a car and drive at a reasonable speed though it would be 
more of a thrill to go faster, when I show respect for the people and objects 
which surround me, when I am observant of the natural world, I am not just 
reflecting my parents' and my teachers' instructions ; I am also reflecting hours 
spent with horses. 



10 The Green Caldron 

A Cup of Tea 

Louis J. Huhsman 
Rhetoric 101, Tlietne 4 

IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL SPRING DAY AND ALL THE WORLD 
was alive with the joy of re-birth. He could feel the leaves growing and the 

flowers popping out, even there in the quiet of the cubed island on the 
third floor of the Art Building, A dart of light fell over his blank canvas and he 
followed it out the window up to its beginning in the blue. He was thinking. 

He was short for his age and knew it. Most of his friends thought of him 
as a sort of freak. In his possession, however, was a talent none of them could 
claim ; he was an "artist." His quiet, deliberate character demanded that he 
think that Art was his true love. For the past year he had wondered if he 
could live this lie born of doubt and bad work. 

There was a faint sound from behind him. He realized that there was 
someone in that small room with him. His unstained brush tightened in his 
hand and he could feel the red flushing his face. Who else could it be but the 
Special Art teacher? Slowly he turned, his eyes not wanting to look. There 
she was, short and fat, wearing that same old drab dress, silently preparing 
to brew a pot of tea. 

Her actions were as always, quick and decisive. Their eyes had not met, 
even though each of them knew the other was present. In a moment he felt 
a part of what she was doing, as she poured a second cupful of the steaming 
brew. The tea seemed to give a silent invitation to both of them. They both 
sat down. Looking across the table was easier now. She had put him at ease 
by her actions alone. There was no one in the world now but the two of them. 

His thoughts went back to a few seconds ago, and he wondered just how 
long she had been watching him in his daydream. It was not until he drew his 
last, sweet sip from the cup that he knew what she meant without speaking a 
word. He felt he really knew her now, but more important was the fact that 
what he was doing was correct. In that unknown span of time his life was 
not changed, but illuminated for a split second so that his future was clearly 
visible. 

Still without a word, she collected the cups and spoons, placed them in the 
shallow sink, and left the room as quietly as she had entered. 

Before long he stood and, with a smile on his face, gazed at the brush. It 
did not speak, of course, but it seemed to smile back. The inspiration had come 
at last and he knew it. He mixed the pigments with a vigor he had never known 
before. A quick glance at the blank canvas was enough to plot the first strokes. 
The scene was wet before him. How much time had gone by? How much 
energy had he used? He did not care to look at his watch nor did he feel 
fatigued. This new feeling of Tightness had made him forget all material things. 



April, 1958 11 

For the remainder of his Hfe, he knew, he would communicate his ideas and 
thoughts to his fellow man on canvas. Yes, now he knew with certainty 
where he was going. 

Just what would become of him in the next five or ten years was uncertain, 
but one fact was sure : he was on the right road to personal satisfaction. There 
were many years of study ahead, so many facts to absorb. He knew that this 
study was not a diversion from the original road to his goal, but a very impor- 
tant step in becoming, first, a fully developed individual. 

Perhaps some day his works would hang for the world to judge, but this 
was not his goal. To express himself to his fellow man, to give him something 
to enjoy, perhaps to cherish — this was the ultimate. 

What would his life be if it had not been for that silent cup of tea? 



Tlie Fidkt 



er 

Klaus E. Biallowons 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 7 

A FEW DAYS AGO A NAVY JET FIGHTER FIRED SEVERAL 
bursts from its cannon and then went into a shallow dive. With in- 
credible speed it not only overtook its own shells but hit several of 
them so hard that the damage forced the pilot to crash land. 

At first glance one might shrug the incident off as just another freak 
training accident — and perhaps that is all it was. I cannot, however, resist 
the temptation to read a deeper meaning into this mechanical suicide, because 
of its timeliness in a world bent on self-destruction. You may call it a tribute 
to man's eternal follies. 

Give a match to a child playing in a haystack and you are inviting disaster. 
He may understand the mechanism of rubbing the match against a coarse 
surface to produce a flame, but he will never be able to visualize the con- 
sequences. Yesterday he was able to run away from the flames and watch the 
scene in detached fascination, always tempted and ready to repeat the trick. 
Tomorrow the flames may engulf him, and his feeble cries will be lost in the 
devastation. 

Ever since our ancestors earned for themselves the title of Homo sapiens, 
man has been using his unique intellectual powers to improve his lot. And 
since that day, too, he has viciously and bitterly, bloodily and unmercifully, 
fought for every little gain and victory on the long, arduous road. In just 
a few thousand years' time, man has amassed a wealth of knowledge about the 
world surrounding him. He has wanted to understand his world and master 
it, but, above all, he has strived to understand himself. Yet there is a wide 
difference between the physical maturity reached by individuals within a 
generation and the maturity of all mankind, our goal and destiny. 



12 The Green Caldron 

Throughout history man has never ceased believing that every technical 
advance carried within itself the key to his paradise, the end of all strife and 
bloodshed. And as each generation succeeds the old one, that belief is re- 
newed and rekindled into the fairy tale that shall shortly become truth. 

To find his truth, man has built and created; not finding it, he has 
destroyed that which he built and created. He has turned ugliness into beauty 
and beauty into ugliness in his ceaseless quest, as a child will do to avoid 
boredom. But the match must be a bigger one and the conflagration more 
powerful every time, to retain fascination. 

With all his technical know-how there is one fact which man, today more 
than ever, refuses or fails to understand, namely, that he is still as far from 
understanding and finding the ultimate truth as were the first feeble mortals. 
Generations of philosophers have preceded us, generations will follow, without 
hope of changing the question mark to one of exclamation. And as the mind 
supplies no answer, man is determined to use his physical powers to conquer 
and destroy the intangible. He has always feared and hated that which he 
cannot understand, and destruction has always been the convenient method of 
eliminating it. If the direct object of his mystification is not available, some- 
one or something — the scapegoat — will suffer his fury. When the elements 
were to be appeased, man made sacrifices to his gods. If the gods remained 
silent, there were always witches to be burned at the stake. 

Man has always hated the gods that hold him in their power, and when- 
ever opportunity beckoned he set out to destroy them. So far he has not 
succeeded. Several thousand years ago men built the tower of Babel to invade 
and destroy the kingdom of the gods. Today men threaten to annihilate their 
God with the atomic bomb. Yes, we are powerful today. We are capable of 
destroying everything we have built and perhaps everything that we know. 

Jet planes and cannons behave according to the laws of pre-nuclear physics 
which most of us comprehend somewhat dimly. When we get a plane that 
can outspeed its own bullets, it looks as if things may be getting out of control. 

Oh, who is worrying ! The whole incident was just one of those things, 
a slight miscalculation. After all, these mechanical gadgets are our own 
creation; we control them, and they react according to our wishes. Develop- 
ment demands that they become progressively bigger and more powerful, 
and this is as it should be. The power of the hydrogen bomb is now expressed 
in megatons of TNT instead of pounds. Well, admittedly, we have a little 
trouble controlling the eflfects of the bomb, and there is that bothersome radio- 
active fallout to contend with. But a lot of this has been exaggerated. So there 
are a few scientists who shout about the dangers. What do they know about 
the affairs of the world ? We have made it this far ; nothing can happen to us. 

Then again, perhaps we should try the assault on Him now, while we are 
ahead. There is an excellent chance of winning ; He is probably not expecting 
trouble at the moment. Besides, who knows, things might actually get out of 
hand some day. You have to beat Him to the draw if you want to survive . . . 



April, 1958 13 

A Poetic Novel 

Judith Raphael 
Rhetoric 101, Book Report 

"Memory believes what knowing remembers. Believes longer than recollects, 
longer than knowing even wonders." 

—William Faulkner 

IW/ILLIAM FAULKNER WROTE A POEM AND HE CALLED IT 
\\/ Light in August. Technically, Light in August is a novel. The fore- 
most literary critics of America have even proclaimed it a most dis- 
tinguished novel. However, in this book, as in most of his writing, Faulkner 
does not spill out the beauty of his mind in the conventional patterns. He tends 
to ignore punctuation and run sentences together, but his prose possesses the 
essence of poetry. When reading poetic prose, I often wonder where the prose 
leaves off and the poetry begins. This is a matter of opinion. To me, Faulk- 
ner's writing is poetry. Therefore I say, William Faulkner wrote a poem 
and called it Light in August. 

Although it contains the Faulkner touch of fantasy, this "poem" is not 
just a mass of musical words pieced together to thrill the senses. Its message 
is very real because Faulkner's deep perception of reality is so very astound- 
ing in its acuity. 

To see the genius of the author's description, you must look from a distance. 
His style of writing takes you deeply into the story. You find yourself so in- 
volved that you do not have time to analyse the book's details. The only 
analysis I can make is in the form of a feeling that Faulkner's writing invokes 
in me. When Faulkner describes something, I not only sense, but know, that 
this thing could never be seen in any other way. Faulkner's descriptive powers 
are part of his magic. 

Light in August has a message. Faulkner tells of two origins of the destiny 
of mankind. He speaks of man's fate as an inner force he is born with and as 
a force that is derived from man's relation to man. 

A perfect example of his idea of inner destiny is to be found in Lena Grove. 
Lena Grove is pregnant, carrying an illegitimate child with all the complacency 
in the world. Her past life, as the ward of an uninterested older brother, may 
have been a contributing cause of her rather precarious position. But, somehow, 
I do not feel that Faulkner was using her position as a chance to tell a tale of 
morals. The author seems more concerned with where Lena derived her peace 
of mind. Faulkner seems to feel that this complacency in Lena is there because 
she senses her destiny as an inherent force that will take care of her. Other 
characters in Light in August also sense their fates. Johanna Burden certainly 
must have known her destiny or she would not have said so plaintively, "Don't 
make me have to pray yet. Dear God, let me be damned a little longer, a little 
while." 



14 The Green Caldron 

It is hard to differentiate between the destiny in man that is inherent and the 
fate that is pressed on him by mankind. I feel Faulkner is trying to relate both 
of these forces. Not only do the characters in Light in August seem to have 
their special fates and know them, but they also seem to affect the destinies of 
one another. Joe Christmas is especially affected by mankind. In my opinion 
Joe is the essential being in Light in August. The message of the book is 
his story. 

Christmas is a thief, a rapist, and a murderer. This should make him a 
villain, but somehow his villainy is a paradox, Faulkner does not excuse any 
of Joe's evil deeds. However, the author's portrayal of this lonely, half-crazed 
man is so sympathetic that I could never condemn Christmas. This is Faulk- 
ner's magic again. I wonder if Joe's destiny was not determined by the people 
in his life. Maybe it was the unwed mother he never knew, or the Negro blood 
in his father's seed. It might have been the cold, God-fearing family who 
adopted him as a child, who shaped Joe's future. I believe it was all of them. 
Using Christmas as an example, Faulkner seems to be telling us, in his own 
style, a bit of philosophy I heard in a very old poem : "No man is an island. No 
man stands alone. Each man as my brother. Each man as my own." 

At times Faulkner seems to wander from his main theme, and at times he 
becomes rather repetitious. In spite of this, the plot of Light in August does 
not lose its meaning, nor does the "poem" ever lose its beauty. 



Conscience in a Practical World 

Merle Gordon 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 5 

I WAS TIRED OF TALKING ABOUT CONSCIENCE IN THE AB- 
stract, so I listed about a dozen matters into which the thing we call "con- 
science" would enter. Looking over this list, I was struck by one thing: it 
is often hard to tell where conscience leaves off and fear begins. In deciding 
"Should I or should I not do something?" the question becomes, not "How 
will I feel afterward?" but "Can I get away with it?" 

I had better not murder anybody, partly because something tells me it is 
not right, but mainly because the world will not abide it. I must not leave my 
wife and forty-eight kids, as the Army expression goes, for the same reason. 
Fear keeps me in check, and my conscience need not enter into the picture at all. 
In our building we had a five-year-old thief named Tommy Thompson. 
Tommy was caught red-handed by my father after stealing some foreign coins 
from our apartment. My father immediately sat Tommy down and painted a 
vivid picture of jail, I told him that this was the wTong approach, and that he 
should try to make Tommy understand that stealing is wrong in itself. He 



April, 1958 15 

agreed, but said that he didn't feel himself equal to the task. How would one 
go about making someone else feel conscience, anyway? 

I have said that there are certain things the world will not tolerate. On the 
other hand, suppose that one subdues his conscience, takes a risk on something 
or other, and comes out ahead? The practical world likes that. The practical 
world contains many people like that. The lawyer who is just starting out sits 
alone with his conscience, while the semi-illiterate he graduated from high 
school with is a rich bookmaker. The bookmaker, the apple-polisher, the bribe- 
taker, the cheater say : "You have to be practical to get ahead," and maybe the 
lawyer kicks himself and says : "Look at them. They're happy. All right, maybe 
they'll get their come-uppance sometime. When ? In hell ? They're not worried 
about that." Still he can't take the step and become like them, because he knows 
he won't think much of himself if he does. 

There are times, I'm sure, when everyone has felt that conscience has no 
place whatsoever in a practical world. Some individuals at this point break 
with their conscience. If they can effect a complete break, they will probably 
be happy afterwards. If they cannot rid themselves of the desire for self-re- 
spect, the world can be practical or not, but they won't be happy again. 

How to Get Ahead in Life 

Tom Priebe 

Rhetoric 101, Theme 7 

THESE DAYS TOO MANY YOUNG MEN FEEL THAT ONCE 
they get their doctorate at Harvard and then put in a few short years 
at Princeton Institute for y\dvanced Study, they'll immediately be be- 
sieged by employers eager to offer them positions as T.V. repairmen or district 
political leaders. Not so! Competition in all fields has never been keener. Good 
intentions are not enough. The key to success in both the business and social 
world is self-confidence. I can show you how to get rid of the lousy personality 
you now have and build a new, dominating, and magnetic one that will change 
your whole life. Here are my four rules, four logical, common-sense sugges- 
tions that will work personality magic. 

Rule 1 : Eliminate all signs of self-doubt ! 

Rule 1 is the basic rule. Once you have mastered it, the others will come 
easily. Start now by saying to yourself (no matter how ridiculous it may seem 
at first) : I am just as good as the next fellow. I am just as good as the next 
fellow. After saying it to yourself for a while, start saying it to the next fellow, 
and if possible, the fellow next to the next fellow. This self-testimonial will 
not only bolster your ego, but it will also help you make many valuable "con- 
tacts." 

Constantly tell yourself (and the next fellow) that you are brainy, witty, 



16 The Green Caldron 

rich, and Napoleon Bonaparte. (Regarding Bonaparte, you'll avoid compli- 
cations if you tell this only to yourself.) 

Rule 2 : Radiate energy and vitality ! 

No one responds to a negative idea. Always think and act positively. When 
you enter a room, move fast. Slap people on the back unexpectedly. Grip 
their lapels. Poke them forcefully with your forefinger to emphasize points. 
If you have no point to emphasize, poke them anyway. Let them know you're 
there. 

First impressions will last for years, and the quickest way to make a first 
impression is to develop a dynamic handshake — one that people will remember. 
If you're so feeble that your normal grip feels like a half-pound of beef liver, 
be ingenious. Conceal in the palm of your hand an electric buzzer or warm 
chocolate bar. Such a tactful gesture will never fail to make a lasting impres- 
sion on that prospective client. 

Rule 3 : Always talk down to people ! 

This rule is a "must" for the truly self-confident person. Talking down to 
people puts them in their place. It is a cinch that you don't have enough in- 
telligence or wit to talk down to people intellectually ; consequently, talk down 
to them physically. When you get into a conversation, stand on a chair. You'd 
be surprised how this simple device will give you a sense of power and author- 
ity, especially if you punctuate your monologue w4th potent expressions like 
"Get it? Don't interrupt! Pay attention!" and "Paste that in your pipe and 
smoke it!" Practice this method of positive speaking constantly. It will de- 
velop your self-assurance, vocabulary, and sense of balance. It may also get 
you elected to the Senate. 

Rule 4 : Make other people feel insecure ! 

An attitude of unmitigated sincerity is essential to Rule 4. First, study 
ever}'one with whom you come in contact, and then point out their weaknesses 
to them, frankly and honestly. For instance, here is how the rule works : be- 
fore getting down to business with that prospective client, set the stage. Tell 
the prospect that he should do something about the unsightly hair in his ears. 
Point out that his vest is in bad taste, and mention that wearing a tight belt 
merely emphasizes his protruding stomach, instead of concealing it. Suggest 
a dentist who could certainly make him a set of more natural looking bridge- 
work. Make a joke about the amount of dandruff you can see on his head from 
your vantage point (you, of course, are standing on your chair: Rule 3). He 
may throw you out of his office, but he will admire your poise and self-assur- 
ance. 

You now know the secrets that will give you access to the untapped reser- 
voirs of vitality and self-reliance. If, until today, you have been worried be- 
cause you were unsuccessful, had no friends, and didn't know why, you may 
now change all this by merely putting these four fool-proof rules to work. 



April, 1958 17 

Reflections Through a 
Looking Glass 

Rae Lesser 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 9 

ALICE IN WONDERLAND WENT THROUGH A LOOKING 
glass and returned with a new insight into the world she knew. Sensing 
a parallel between her experience and the one I had just undergone, I 
shivered involuntarily, and felt the skin at the back of my neck prickle. I was 
possessed by the sensation of being newly aware of the world I lived in. Further 
stimulating my comparison were the reflections of myself which confronted me 
from many of the surrounding polished glass cases. I was forced to review the 
reasons for my impressions. Why did I suddenly feel as if I had undergone an 
experience similar to Alice's? Was this my hall of mirrors — this almost de- 
serted corridor of a musty museum? 

Before I surrendered to the call of my imagination, my mood had been 
quite objective and uninspired. I had been completely absorbed in my task 
of noting the physical characterestics of a skull on view in the glass case before 
me. But I paused from my note taking for a few moments and let my thoughts 
wander. No longer was I viewing a mere yellowed ellipse of bone but a 
mysterious link with a half-remembered chapter in man's past. My mind pro- 
vided a covering of flesh and blood for the inanimate mass of bone behind the 
glass. While inspecting the ancient skull of a Mound Builder Indian, identified 
as that of a "female below middle age," I visualized a face — with an identity 
and a past. Who had this girl been? How had she died? Childbirth, disease, 
war — what had caused her death? Had she been considered pretty? But the 
answer remained locked away, as inaccessible to me as the skull sealed in the 
glass case for display in the University of Illinois Museum of Natural History. 

From the information given on the description card, I was able to surmise 
little. The skull was that of a girl who had lived in Illinois ages before its 
emergence as a state. The girl had died here centuries before the University 
of Illinois was born from a dream in the minds of recent men. And now her 
skull is exhibited in a museum at this university. 

For a long moment I felt incapable of even the slightest movement. I 
could only stare at the relic of a dead past, and see a symbol of a distant future. 
Disturbing, unanswerable questions rose to the fore of my thoughts. Does this 
skull symbolize an irrevocable glimpse into modern man's fate ? In the museums 
of what society will the skulls of Atomic Age Man be preserved ? Will there 
still he a society when the Atomic Age has receded to a mere musty page in 
the annals of the Earth's history ? 

Still haunted by the vivid mental images of past and future that I had con- 



18 The Green Caldron 

jured, I turned to leave the almost-deserted corridor of the Museum of Natural 
History. Or was I returning from the land behind the looking glass? 



Putting on Her Face 

Doris L. Gould 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 8 



IF I EVER WANT A GOOD LAUGH FOR NOTHING, I SIT DOWN 
and watch my roommate "put on her face" before a date. She really makes 

an art of burying her face beneath several layers of cosmetics. There is a 
more or less set pattern to her ritual. First of all she sets before her an array 
of various-sized bottles and jars containing colorful liquids, creams, and pastes. 
Neatly piled to one side are towels, Kleenex, and toothpicks. She begins work 
on her face by opening a jar of pink cold cream and smearing it liberally on 
her face and neck. The cold cream, which is left on for fifteen minutes, takes 
the place of washing her face. According to the manufacturer of the cold cream, 
soap and water are harmful to one's face, whereas his product "soothes, 
smoothes, and cleanses" the face safely and effectively. 

When the cold cream has done its job, she wipes it off with a piece of 
Kleenex and opens a bottle of a red-orange concoction. She carefully measures 
out one teaspoonful of it and pours it into a small cup. Then, with a small 
brush, she applies the liquid to her face. For the next twenty minutes she can- 
not smile or talk because the liquid hardens to a hideous brittle mask on her 
face. After the interlude of silence she washes the mask off with ice-cold water. 
By this time her poor face is beet-red. She calmly says that the reason for this 
is the fact that her circulation has been stimulated. 

To cover her blushing face, she has to put on make-up base. She measures 
it out on two toothpicks because if she uses too much, her face will be rust- 
colored. After rubbing the make-up base onto her face and neck, she applies 
pink rouge generously to her cheeks. She next outlines her eyelids with a 
black pencil. On her eyelids she applies black, brown, blue, or green eye- 
shadow — depending on her mood. She darkens her eyebrows with brown or 
black eyebrow pencil and makes her eyelashes more beautiful with black, 
brown, or blue mascara — again depending upon her mood. At the corners of 
her eyes next to her nose she places a tiny red dot — for that "youthful look." 

On top of all the goo already mentioned she fluffs on huge quantities of 
powder, most of which she then wipes off. She finishes her task by putting 
on, with a lipstick brush, one of her many shades of lipstick. 

With her face thus disguised she gayly prances off to meet her date, who 
will no doubt end up with her "face" all over the shoulder of his dark blue 
sport coat. 



April, 1958 19 

Why? 

Robert Matchett 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 6 

tKQjANCTUS, SANCTUS, SANCTUS . . ." SOMEWHERE IN 
i^j the distance a bell chimes three times. The priest, very close to the 
altar now, raises the Sacred Host above his head and chants the canon 
of the Mass : "This is my body which is given for you . . ." After a moment 
of silent meditation, he takes into his hands the chalice in which the wine is 
contained. "This is the chalice of my blood . . ." As he elevates the chalice 
above his head, I know that a very wonderful thing has taken place: mere 
bread and wine have become the consecrated body and blood of Christ. 

Some people would say that this is completely absurd. It has no factual 
proof. It is not even reasonable. How can a priest make God out of a piece of 
bread? It just isn't sensible. I find it impossible to explain to such people my 
"reason" for believing in the Mass. In fact, to be perfectly honest, there is no ra- 
tional explanation. Admittedly, I take the Mass completely on faith. This faith 
stems from something within me. I do not know what, or where, or how ; but 
I do not really care. It is always there, and that is what matters to me. 

The Mass is offered to the greater glory of God. It lies at the heart of 
the Universal Faith. To one who must ask "How?" and "Why?" it has no 
meaning, but for the believer it holds the mystery of life. He does not need 
tangible proof, for he does not regard religion as a rigorous science. Indeed, 
he regards it as the single thing which transcends all understanding, knowledge, 
and logic. In the region beyond the realm of research, the scientist can only 
close his eyes and say, "There is nothing here. I cannot see it." But he has 
never been able to prove this belief he holds. Is my faith to be criticized because 
it cannot be poured into a test tube? I do not think so. I do not pretend to 
have conclusive proof for what I believe to be the greatest truth in life. But 
who is to say what is the truth in the domain beyond the grasp of the human 
mind? 



SPRING is the time when young boys begin to oil and polish their bicycles, 
rusted from lack of use ; the time when mothers may be seen beating their rugs 
and cleaning their houses as if they were rubbing the sleep out of the corners. 

Francis Bamburg, Rhetoric 101, Theme 1 



HELL has lost its fury because religion has lost its fervor. 

Elizabeth Wasson, Rhetoric 101, Theme 6 



20 The Green Caldron 

Rhet as Writ 

For some reason, back in the early part of the twentieth century, it was almost considered 
a sin to show a part of the body unexposed. 



. . . my giant steps will not be mere gambles at high steaks 



Yes, hunger is the only seasoning that can take any food, such as a lowly piece of beard, 
and give it that divine taste. 



Anjr housewife would probably find her husband pleasantly shocked, if she would ask 
him to play golf, bowl, or wrestle with her. 



Everyman can become a psychologists just by reading Fraud. 



After four semesters of writing on "The Poppy Seed, USA," and "Spring Time, Garden 
Time," the individual will have of necessity developed those characteristics we describe as 
fatalism and intestinal fortitude of the brain. 



Also, it is good for parents to impress on teenagers the dangers and the possibilities of 
pre-marital relations. 



PE is very necessary ; we need a strong body to carry our head around on. 



Ever since my first history book back in the elementary grades, I have been inclined to 
devour everyone that comes within my reach. 



He and his wife decided to have twelve children on their wedding day, six boys and six 
girls. 



I saw the little black dog of the lady next door, whom I had helped to raise when only a 
puppy. 



The city of my choice is geographically located which will make it possible to enjoy the 
four wonderful seasons each year. 



Babe Ruth became as famous or even more famous than George Washington for hitting 
home runs. 



All of these reasons contributed to my choosing Illinois as the university from which I 
would like to obtain my college degree and spend the greater part of the next four years 
of my life. 



The Contributors 

Katherine Hirt — Indianapolis, Ind. 

James H, Stein, Jr. — George School, Pa. 

Sandra Rae Leboe — Hirsch 

Steve Born — Reavis 

Martha Solomon — Peoria Central 

Joan Haynes — ^Newton Community 

Vernalie Moberg — United Twp. 

Kay Franklin — Morrisonville 

Louis J, Huhsman — Rockford 

Klaus E, Biallowons — Englisches Institut, 

Heidelberg, Germany 

Judith Raphael — Maine Twp. 

Merle Gordon — Sullivan 

Tom Priebe — ^West Senior, Rockford 

Rae Lesser — Roosevelt 

Doris L. Gould — Decatur 

Robert Matchett — Hinsdale 



Wmmmm';'im^ 



Fhe Green Caldron 

A MAGAZINE OF FRESHMAN WRITING 



-^ 



CONTENTS 

FrancU Bowen: To the Class of 1958 1 

Paid Friedman: Looking Back From 1984 or 85 2 

Sue Divan: Old John and Man 3 

Sandra Sdlera: Footsteps ... 4 

Paul W. Higginbotham: The Battle for Better Education 5 

John Tatcher: The Universe and Dr. Einstein 7 

Elizabeth Roberts: Do It Yourself 9 

Cindy Lee: Good Neighbor Policy 10 

Sutanne Campbell: Viewpoints on Autumn 11 

Helen Levin: The Phenomenon on tTu» Pmin*. 12 

Latvrenee D. Svoidler: The Kill« i 14 

Cyrua G. Mueth: Humble Town Refuses Role as Fair City 15 

Roberta Sax: What My Hometown Needs Most .... 16 

John H. Althoff: My Theory 18 

John A. Woodruff: The Decline and Fall of an Empire 19 

*>ae Divan: Empress of Calvary 20 

Rhet as Writ 28 



Vol. 28, No. 1 October, 1958 



UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 



T 



J.UE Green Caldron is published four times a year l^ tibe 

Khetoric Staff at th( sitv of Illinois. Material is chosen 

Iroiu til' ntten by treshnicn ni the I lu- 

versity. Permission to publish is obtained for all full themes, 
iiuliKlinp those published anonvmouslv. Parts of themes, how- 
le publisli cretioa ot the committee in cliarge. 

Members of the committee in charge of The Green Caldron 

( irenkami Iliam 

McQut< Phyllis Rice, Editor. 



To the Class of 1958 

Francis Bovven 
Rhetoric loi. Theme 5 

IN SEVERAL MONTHS A FEW OF YOU IN THE HIGH SCHOOL 
class of 1958 will be entering the University of Illinois. Along with many 

other people I believe that you have made an excellent choice. Presently you 
will agree. But during the first few weeks, or even months, you may ask your- 
self, "What am I doing here? Why didn't I choose a small college closer to 
home ?" To these questions I can offer no valid answers. You alone will gradu- 
ally come to realize the merits of the University. 

A merit that you may wonder about at first is the size of the University of 
Illinois. Because of its great size, and in order to be efficient, the University 
must function as a machine. You will be disheartened by the cold indifference 
that meets you during your first week. Receive that welcome with indifference. 
Keep in mind that even though you feel unwelcome, you are to become an 
important part of the machine. Yoii are the University, not the professors and 
administrators, not the buildings and physical aspects. You are the moving 
parts, the vital parts of the machine which is called the University. The instruc- 
tors and professors are merely mechanics who go running around oiling and 
polishing the machinery. They constantly keep polishing and grinding in order 
that you may fit in with the rest of the machinery for efficient operation. 

This polishing and grinding is not a subtle feat ; at times it is quite painful. 
The instructors will tear you apart. "Conform !" they shout, "Conform ! You 
must conform to fit the machinery of society !" But in the next breath you will 
hear them screaming, "Originality ! To be a true person you must have origi- 
nality !" 

And your instructors will sit complacently in their own little world and 
throw these criticisms faster than you thought possible. Occasionally a word of 
encouragement and praise emerges with the criticisms, but you will have to hunt 
for it. You will wonder if you are missing the meaning of college. Basically 
you have come to college to learn, not to be criticized. But you must realize that 
only through criticism can you learn and improve your ability to learn. 

Nevertheless, the frequent criticisms will discourage you so much that you 
will forget your studies and go to a movie. Fine. I believe that this is the best 
thing to do at certain times. But do not misinterpret my meaning. You should 
not make a habit of getting discouraged and throwing your books in a corner. 
Hard work is the only solution most of the time, and it is the only practical 
way out. 

But remember that the machinery comes to a halt during the weekend, and 
thus you may find yourself with a few free hours. Do something with those 
free hours. Do something different, something unrelated to your subjects. And 

[1] 



2 The Green Caldron 

above all, find a friend. Most often he will be the wheel in the machinery above 
you or that cog below you. A true friend can enrich your college life. 

But there is no set pattern for acquiring a friend, as there has been no text 
written as a guide to the University of Illinois. Thus I am not able to say what 
your feelings will be as you enter the University next fall. I can only make 
calculated guesses. I can only say that you alone determine your college career, 
and only you can make it pleasant and successful. 



Looking Back From 1984 or 85 

Paul Friedman 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 8 

He wasn't interested in anything that had 
anything to do with anything real, 
What he really was interested in was anything 
that had nothing to do with everything. 

He liked to read but what he read was not 

what was Written, but rather what was written 

about what someone wrote, 

He liked to write but he only wrote about 

what people liked to read so he really didn't Write. 

He liked women but he wouldn't marry a Woman, 

He liked to move but he didn't like to travel 

and he wouldn't Settle Down, 

He liked to tap his toe to a trumpet but 

he wouldn't bare his Brain to the Beat, 

He liked to argue (for he had a good mind) 

but it really didn't matter which side he argued for. 

He died Hungry. 

If he lived in the 1860's his life was lousy. 

If he lived in the 1890's his life was lousy, 

If he lived in Hemingway's twenties his life was 

lousy but he picked up many brothers, 

If he lived in Kerovac's fifties he was without 

socks, without clean underwear, and again 

with an increased number of brothers. 

He left $51,300.30 to no one. 

He also left his 30 shares of AT & T to no one. 

He did not want to insult his friends. 

He caused one doctor to be fired. 

The doctor is still sure he died of malnutrition 
but everyone knows he had a big appetite. 



The members of the Caldron committee regret that the theme "How to Get Ahead 
in Life" in the April, 1958, issue was plagiarized. 



October, 1958 3 

Old John and Man 

Sue Divan 

Rhetoric 102, Final theme 

THE DAY WAS HOT— STEAMING HOT— AND SULTRY AS 
only a late spring afternoon in a small Southern town can be. My 
starched, white collar irritated my neck, and the light, black suit seemed 
warm and heavy — suddenly unbearable in the heat. I had walked from the 
cemetery at the edge of town, and I was tired ; I longed to reach my cool, quiet, 
comforting destination. I walked along the narrow, tree-shaded sidewalk, 
staring at the crooked, spider-web cracks in the old cement, but not really 
seeing them. I was thinking — thinking about the funeral at which I had been 
present earlier in the afternoon. The man who died and had been buried 
today was old John, the village conversation piece, an eccentric old man whom 
the town had jokingly called its "mayor." 

John was eighty-seven years old and had lived alone, apparently with no 
living relatives and only his pension for support, in a squalid little frame house 
turned black from years of weathering and patched here and there with un- 
painted boards. The little black house stood just two doors down from the 
main business district, and the town council had begged John to sell. At 
first they offered him a reasonable price, then a fabulous sum, for the dirty 
little house and the grass-barren lot. But John would not sell. He was old, 
he said, and would not be happy if he died anywhere else but right there in 
his little house, just two doors down from the business district. 

So John was taunted, belittled, hated. The school boys, flying by on bicycles, 
would sneer at him and call him names. The little girls would cross the street 
to avoid walking in front of "that house." And the townspeople put into 
effect a policy of ignoring him. No one talked to him and he was left alone. 

But what the townspeople did not notice, or did not bother to notice, was 
the look in John's eyes — the patient, knowing, waiting look — a look so beauti- 
ful it made me turn away whenever I visited John and talked to him. And 
what they did not see was inside John's house — the old, dog-eared books on 
the board shelves, and the worn Bible on the table by the rocking chair. And 
outside John's house, they did not see the tulips and early roses blooming in 
the back yard, nor did they see, tied to the back fence, the dogs which he kept 
and fed and loved, with infinite kindness and patience. The townspeople had 
passed judgment on old John, but now someone else, someone better, was 
passing His judgment. 

I looked up and saw that I was nearing home. I saw the little white church 
at the end of the street, shaded by the tall, green elms on either side. I saw 
above the leaves the slim, white steeple and the silent bell in the belfry. I 
walked up the steps and into the cool, quiet sanctuary. Making my way up 



4 The Green Caldron 

the aisle toward the ahar, I removed the stiff, high collar and unbuttoned the 
coat of the light, black suit, the symbols of my profession. God would recognize 
me without them, I thought. I knelt before the Throne of God and prayed for 
old John and Man. 



Footsteps 

Sandra Sellers 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 8 

\S I SAT AT THE HEAVY LIBRARY TABLE WITH MY 
/A back towards the door, I heard voices from the hall, low, mumbling, 
laughing in a quiet manner. Rubber-soled shoes squeaked against the 
waxed, linoleum-like floor. The cool, soft breeze that came through the win- 
dow carried the sounds of the night, deep sounds like those of a huge, even- 
running machine heard from a distance. The sounds of the footsteps in the 
hall and behind me drew my attention away from my work and I sat, listen- 
ing. The sharp, clear tisk-tisk-tisk of swift feet climbing the stairs changed 
to a firm, determined step and faded down the hall. Quick, light steps hurried 
to the door, came in, and went to a table somewhere behind me. 

I listened carefully and liked what I heard. With my eyes closed I began 
to imagine what these people were like from the sounds of their footsteps. 
For a little while the hall outside the fourth floor library was quiet. Then, 
from somewhere down the corridor, footsteps approached. The steps were 
an uneven thup-thup . . . thup-thup, and I mentally envisioned a crippled 
man, walking slowly. Clackety clackety clackety clackety, the picture of two 
hurrying coeds came to my mind and the tiskity-tisk, tiskity-tisk of their 
shoes against the metal edge guards of the steps as they descended confirmed 
my idea. The light, hurried steps of a girl and the slower, heavier ones of 
a man made me think of a happy couple, walking hand in hand through the 
hall. 

The big clock in the tower chimed out bunngg — bunngg — bunngg — 
bunngg. . . bunngg — bunngg — bunngg — bunngg. It was nine-thirty. The 
sounds of footsteps began to fill the hall as people started leaving the library. 
I listened and I heard determined people, unhappy people, people with pur- 
pose, and some who were either very tired or had no purpose at all. I heard 
one particular set of footsteps and I listened intently. Evenly they climbed 
the steps, reached the top, then started towards the library door. Stipch, 
stipch, stipch, clup-stipch, stipch . . . stipch . . . stipch. I didn't need to guess 
about the person who walked like that. He was young, tall, goodlooking, 
with eyes that saw beyond the scenes they looked at and shoulders that car- 
ried the weight of problems not always his own. Stipch . . . clup-stipch . . . 
clup-stich . . . stipch . . . clup-stipch. They stopped behind me. 



October, 1958 5 

"Sue?" The voice was soft, with the unbelievable gentleness that only a 
strong, tall man possesses. "Are you ready?" 

"Yes, Ted. Let's go." 

Carefully he put my sweater across my shoulders, handed me my books, 
and began to wheel me out of the library and towards the elevator. 



The Battle for Better Education 

Paul W. Higginbotham 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 8 

OVER FIVE SCORE YEARS AGO, OUR FOREFATHERS 
founded in this state, a new educational system with the honorable 
intention of teaching young Americans of their rights, privileges, and 
heritage under the auspices of a country rich in natural and human resources. 
Now we are engaged in a great civil crisis, testing whether that crisis shall 
finally end a partly, if not wholly, antique educational system. We are come 
to decide what can be added to or detracted from our educational system in 
order that we may, in future years, continue to compete with a hostile and 
aggressive world. 

Maybe Abe Lincoln would have said something similar to the above were 
he alive to be called upon today, but rather and more likely, he might have 
said simply, "Is our present educational system effective, and if it isn't, what 
can we do to make it so?" 

The need for a "system" shake-up is quite evident in the light of recent 
statistics. Only half of the total number of young people who could succeed 
in college ever get there, and of this half, an even smaller percentage stay to 
graduate. Russia is graduating over twice as many engineers, physicists, 
chemists, and professional people in the other branches of theoretical and 
applied sciences as the U. S. What then are we to do to hold our own, or more 
correctly, to catch up with our formidable opponent? 

Indeed, the road to sound educational practices is a deeply rutted one ; it 
is grooved by the failures of previous years. It is furrowed and plowed by 
our own doubts as to whether or not our free society has failed in an educational 
sense. But this need not be, for there are many, many solutions to this educa- 
tional puzzle, three of which I would specifically like to point out. 

Number one — we must give our teachers better pay. If we are to have a 
sound educational system, we must have good teachers; we must have an 
adequate number of teachers. At the present we are woefully lacking in both 
quantity and quality. The problem, and its solution, is amply stated in the 
words of Rear Admiral Hyman Rickover, "If we insist on paying our teachers 
as though they were second-rate professional people, then that's what we'll 



6 The Green Caldron 

get — second-rate individuals. ... It is a sad thing indeed when a country 
as rich as the United States is, will spend as little as we do for education." 
Our teachers and instructors are college graduates, and as such they deserve 
the respect, cooperation, and appreciation due to them from our society. A 
good start towards demonstrating these things is an increase in salary. Money 
will also attract more people into the field of education. 

Number two — we must increase our financial aids to students who have 
the ability to do work at the college level. Financial aid doesn't have to be 
administered in the form of a give-away ; very often a program can be so 
designed as to help the nation in another, equally important way. A typical 
example and proof of this is the G.I. bill. It not only gave financial aid, but 
it increased our ready military strength as well. Many, many boys joined the 
service with an eye for the future and for the aid that could be had from 
Uncle Sam. 

Number three — we must clear the "dead wood" out of our schools. There 
are many young people who upon completion of grammar school, wish to dis- 
continue their education because of lack of interest or for other reasons. At the 
present time there exists a statute which makes it mandatory for all children 
to attend school until the age of sixteen. This statute exerts a strong deterrent 
effect upon the efficiency of administration achieved in our school ; it makes 
a truancy department necessary for most schools. Our schools are tremen- 
dously over-crowded, and yet we insist upon forcing people who are not inter- 
ested to attend them. 

If we face facts, we will readily see that there are many young people 
who are quite ready and willing to quit school at fourteen, even thirteen, "to 
learn a trade." In an effort to hold the interest of these young people, we 
have extended our schools to include many different types of shops which 
supposedly teach many different types of trades. 

The only drawback in expansion to include the field of trades is that 
we cannot expect a small or even medium size school to keep directly abreast 
of recent developments in some of the rapidly moving trades. For instance, 
many high schools teach printing in a shop course, but they teach it with 
old cast lead characters which are hand set into frames. The newest and 
most modern printing process in commercial use is the offset method. In this 
method no type whatsoever is used, but printing is done from a chemically 
etched plate. The cheapest offset presses cost ten to fifteen thousand dollars. 
Moreover, each and every day newer and better chemicals and processes are 
being developed for this field. Can we reasonably expect a school to keep 
abreast of such developments ? 

My solution to the whole problem is to eliminate the "dead wood." Elimi- 
nate shop courses and let the space be used for classrooms or laboratories. 
Eliminate those individuals who do not want to continue their education by 
eliminating the law that forces them to. Invoke tight child-labor laws to pre- 



October, 1958 7 

vent unscrupulous individuals from taking advantage of the free child. Let 
the burden of teaching skills fall where it belongs — in the lap of industry 
where the newest and most modern equipment is readily available. Let the 
young people quit school and learn a trade at an early age, simply prevent 
them from doing heavy labor until a later age. 

But when we have done all this, let us not close the educational door on 
those who have chosen to quit school. Let us make classes for all grades from 
first through high school available to anyone as either a full or part time 
student. In other words, let's put it there for the taking, but let's allow our 
people to decide for themselves whether or not they want it. 



The Universe and Dr. Einstein 

John Tascher 
Rhetoric 102. Theme 13 

\ LBERT EINSTEIN STANDS AS THE GREATEST THEORIST 
/-\ and mathematician of modern times. He possessed a mind capable 
of reasoning mathematical and physical relationships of such great 
complexity that most people cannot even begin to comprehend the full 
meaning of his theories. In this capacity, Einstein has created a new 
mathematical conception of the universe, which has destroyed the old mechni- 
cal universe of Newton. In the book The Universe and Dr. Einstein, Lincoln 
Barnett presents the structural and metaphysical properties of the universe as 
explained by Einstein and the other foremost physicists of the present day. 

The book deals mainly with the description and the logic of the Einsteinian 
concept of the universe. It describes the inadequacies of the Newtonian con- 
cept of the universe, which caused it to be replaced by the modern concept. 
Even though the mechanical universe of Newton explained the movements 
of the heavenly bodies very adequately, it contained certain seemingly insigni- 
ficant errors which caused it to be branded as incorrect. Thus the publication 
of the Quantum Theory by Max Planck and the Theories of Relativity by 
Einstein gave rise to a new, but unrealistic, universe. 

Modern physics must employ abstruse methods of description, since the 
equations of quantum physics define more accurately than would mechanical 
models the workings of the universe. Therefore, the aim of the modern physi- 
cist is to define the laws of nature in more precise mathematical terms. 

A good example of the application of mathematical logic was in connec- 
tion with the Special Theory of Relativity. Einstein said in this theory that 
there is no such thing as absolute time or an absolute space interval. Both 
quantities depend upon the coordinate system in which they are related. Trying 
to tie the infinite number of coordinate systems into one absolute system would 



8 The Green Caldron 

be mechanically impossible. However, through the mathematics of the Lorentz 
Transformation, the scientist can overcome this impasse. In order to describe 
the phenomena of nature in terms that are consistent for all systems throughout 
the universe, the scientist must plug the measurements of time and space into 
the Lorentz Transformation as variables. Through this equation, Einstein was 
able to discover a number of new and extraordinary truths about the physical 
universe. 

A direct outgrowth of the Lorentz Transformation was the theory that 
time slows down and distances contract as the velocity of the system is in- 
creased. According to Einstein's mathematics, a yardstick would shrink to 
about half its length at the velocity of ninety per cent of the speed of light and 
would theoretically shrink away into nothingness at the velocity of light. 
As a direct consequence, therefore, nothing in the universe can move with a 
velocity equal to or greater than that of light. 

Since time slows down with an increase in velocity, a man in a rocket 
travelling close to the speed of light could theoretically travel to a distant star 
years away, according to earth-time, in what would appear to him a few 
days. However, he would be shocked to find his friends on earth years older 
when he returned. 

Scientists now claim that everything in the universe can be stripped down 
to a few basic quantities : space, time, matter, energy, and gravity. In turn, 
these quantities are interdependent on each other, so that the state of the 
universe can be resolved into unity. However, as this simplicity emerges from 
complexity, the fundamental laws become more remote from human experi- 
ence. In the evolution of scientific thought, scientists have come to the con- 
clusion that since human intellect is a finite quality, there is a definite limit to 
man's knowledge. Science can never hope to find the ultimate in truth. All 
scientists can do is to delve into the causes and effects of a phenomenon and 
not into what it is or why it exists. 

In The Universe and Dr. Einstein, Lincoln Barnett tries to give an account 
of the structure of the universe and the nature of quantum physics in the 
layman's language. In the work, he discusses the philosophy and limitations 
of science. Since science, technology, and space travel are important topics 
at the present time, every educated person should have some insight into the 
present status of science and its future possibilities. Therefore, inasmuch as 
the book is well written on an important topic, it is valuable to the average 
reader who wants to gain an insight into modern physics. The influence of 
Eir stein's theories, which may now seem highly theoretical and impractical, 
will become incalculably great in the future. (The awesome power of the 
atomic bomb displayed the practicality and application of Einstein's theories. 
Atomic power is an indication of what is to come.) 

The conclusions of the book are startling. The book shocks its readers 
with the feeling of the insignificance of man in the fathomless universe. It is one 



October, 1958 9 

of the very few books in scientific literature which expHcitly state the finite- 
ness of human intelhgence and the hmitations of man's potentiah Only in 
this way can the layman begin to grasp the meaning of macrocosm and micro- 
cosm. At the same time, however, the book could have a detrimental effect on 
its readers. It fosters pessimism and realization of the fruitlessness of man's 
attempt to solve the riddles of his environment. The book might breed dis- 
couragement in many who are actively interested in the subject. However, it 
emphasizes the pragmatic values of science and the fact that it does not matter 
what a phenomenon is if we can predict what it does. 

Lincoln Barnett discussed most of the basic tenets of relativity and modern 
cosmology. To readers of scientific background the book is highly inconclusive, 
but to the general reader, the resume is fairly complete and adequate. A more 
complete discussion would probably be above the level of most people. 

Since the facts and conclusions in the book come directly from the top 
scientific authorities of the day, the accuracy of the book cannot very well be 
questioned. The march of science will replace many of the details, of course, 
but the basic relationships in the Einsteinian Universe will become the axioms 
of future cosmology. Einstein was so far ahead of the scientific level of his 
time that it will be many years before his genius will be fully appreciated and 
understood. 

One of the striking features of the book is the clarity with which it is 
written. The organization and development of the subject are almost flawless. 
The book is as readable as science fiction because it is quick to read, if not 
relaxing. The author did a very excellent job on a difficult subject, and the 
book should continue to be one of the best in scientific literature. 



Do It Yourself 

Elizabeth Roberts 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 3 

DO-IT-YOURSELF KITS ARE FAST BECOMING ONE OF THE 
most popular forms of recreation in the United States. There are boat 
kits, cofTee table kits, radio kits, and even television kits. All we need 
now are theme kits — and I'm serious — we do need them. To be more exact, 
we need a do-it-yourself attitude toward writing. 

Most of the writing we read today is in the form of long, connected strings 
of store-bought verbs and nouns and other parts of speech. And yet the author 
has no lack of raw material. There are already enough words to fill reams 
of writing paper, and there are new words waiting to be coined. 

The do-it-yourself man has stopped meekly taking what the stores offer. 
He has decided to make his own furniture and surroundings to fit his own 



10 The Green Caldron 

personality. The results may be crude at first, but with patience the projects 
will improve. Soon the do-it-yourselfer will be able to make the exact coffee 
table he wants. He can select rare woods, colorful paints, and unique designs. 

And it can be exactly the same with words. A coffee table or a theme — both 
are better if you use rare and personally selected materials, and put them to- 
gether the way you yourself want them. Don't be afraid to use color in your 
adjectives and design in your sentences. You are seeing things differently; 
write about them differently, not wildly or exotically, but with each word 
personally yours. 

Why is this difficult? It takes work to look at each word and choose the 
most exact or the most colorful one. It takes heavy tools — dictionaries and 
and grammar books — to fashion a smooth, concise idea in words. And hardest 
of all, it takes thought. In order to choose the right words and phrases to 
prove your point, you must know exactly what your point is. You must have a 
workable blue-print before you do-it-yourself with words. 



Good Neighbor Policy 

Cindy Lee 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 12 

MRS. VAN HORN WAS A DEVOUT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: 
she read the Bible daily, she tithed, she donated to worthy causes, she 
was deeply involved in charity work, she was president of her church 
circle — and she belonged to the WCTU. Everyone admired Mrs, Van Horn. 
What a wonderful person she was ! How selfless ! How noble she was ! Al- 
most everyone belonged to the I-Love-Mrs. Van Horn fan club. 

But then came a sad day. Mrs. Van Horn had to move to Wenosha in 
order to nurse her poor ailing mother. She would have to leave her innumer- 
able friends. She must sell the dear little white house which contained so 
many fond memories of her late husband (God rest his soul). But Mrs. 
Van Horn cheerfully bore these inconveniences. She was a noble person. 

Now Mrs. Van Horn had to endure a really trying six months during 
which countless strangers traipsed disrespectfully through the little white 
house. But they didn't love the little house as she did; they asked all sorts 
of probing questions. Did the fireplace draw well? What kind of heating 
did she have? Was the insulation good ? How could .f/z^ know? Her husband 
had cared for these matters, and he (God rest his soul) was now dead, or 
as she liked to say, "passed into the great beyond." 

But then a different sort of man came. He carefully examined the little 
house and then fell in love \\ith it. "This is what I've always wanted," he 
rejoiced. He did not argue about the price, as everyone else had done, and he 



October, 1958 11 

said that he would pay cash. Moreover, he seemed to be quite a personable 
and likeable young man. But Mrs. Van Horn looked into his inquiring dark 
eyes and she stared at his black skin; then she replied, "No, I cannot sell it 
to you." She saw the joy die in his face. "I understand," he answered abruptly, 
and he left. 

"I couldn't do anything else," Mrs. Van Horn thought to herself. "What 
would my neighbors think of me? And how would his moving in affect the 
neighborhood ? After all, my first allegiance is to my friends and neighborhood. 
And it's better for hmi too. Why, he would be snubbed and ignored ; he would 
be an outcast; he would be socially ostracized. I'm really doing him a favor. 
He said that he would pay my asking price in cash too. But I don't mind 
giving up a few dollars. I have a service to perform for my neighborhood and 
my friends." 

She finally sold the house to a Mr. MacDougal. He found fault with every- 
thing about the house. He managed to persuade her to cut her price by a 
thousand dollars. He had eight children (and there were only three bedrooms) 
and a dog. 

The neighbors hated Mr. MacDougal. His children were the scourge of 
the community. His dog raided garbage cans and took a fiendish delight in 
scattering remnants of last week's dinners all over. Mr. MacDougal, more- 
over, got raging drunk once a week and beat his wife. She retaliated by 
throwing dishes at him. Drunken curses, crying children, and splintering 
crockery shattered the peace. 

"Why couldn't that Mrs. Van Horn have been careful?" raged the neigh- 
bors. "Why wasn't she more thoughtful?" asked her ex-friends. "She was 
in such a desperate hurry to move that she just sold it to anyone who came 
along," whispered her new enemies. 

If Mrs. Van Horn had learned of her "friends' " thoughts, she would 
have felt deeply hurt. But she also would have felt like a martyr. She had 
done her duty as she had seen it. A noble person was Mrs. Van Horn. 



Viewpoints on Autumn 

SusANNE Campbell 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 1 

\ UTUMN HAS ARRIVED— THE SEASON OF MATURING AND 
/A the season of declining ; the season of rejoicing and the season of des- 
pairing. L'Allegro, the cheerful man, sees the beauty in the hillsides 
and feels satisfaction in the completion of a busy summer's work. On the 
other hand, II Penseroso, the thoughtful man, sees autumn only as a time 
for mourning the death he sees all about him. 

In autumn I'Allegro, like the blazing trees about him, is in his glory. He 



12 The Green Caldron 

tramps happily through the drifts of chattering leaves, wondering at the glossy 
beauty of a chestnut that emerged from such an ugly shell; laughing at the 
busy squirrels who scamper from their occupations at his noisy approach ; 
running to catch a glimpse of a wedge of honking geese, who announce their 
approach as efficiently as any streamliner. The brisk wind, which playfully 
ruffles his hair, carries the poignant smell of leaf smoke and brings near the 
distant scrape of a rake on cement. A season of festivities, harvest moons, 
pumpkin pies, trees letting down their golden hair — these are autumn to 
I'Allegro. 

Yet, in spite of all the splendor about him, II Penseroso registers only 
increasing melancholia. He wanders through a trackless maze of leaves, which 
by their falling have left the bare arms of their nourishers stretched imploringly 
against a pitiless sky. Absent-mindedly, he pulls at a burr in his trouser-leg, 
as he pauses to look at a half-grown rabbit, which stares back at him with dark, 
liquid eyes, bidding a final, silent farewell until spring. Suddenly, the word- 
less conversation is interrupted by a harsh shriek overhead, quickly followed 
by another, and another. The geese are flying south, to food and shelter and 
security from cold ; the rabbit disappears in a thicket. II Penseroso turns 
toward home, the chilly wind tossing and twisting his coat about him. Gone 
are the dewy violets, the gliding butterflies, the nodding goldenrod, the long, 
lazy days. Autumn is here. 



The Phenomenon on the Prairie 

Helen Levin 
Rhetoric 102. Theme 4 

ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY MILES FROM CHICAGO AND 
thirty-five miles from the University of Illinois is one of the most 
unusual notches on the "Corn Belt" — Danville. This small city, like 
a spider's web encircling the neighboring farming communities, is just far 
enough from Chicago to be free of cosmopolitan chaos, yet close enough to 
absorb some of the city's more notorious habits. A typical midsummer Satur- 
day well illustrates the vacillating personality of this unusual town. 

After supper, there are Municipal Band concerts in the park. Most of 
the town attends, the eldest sitting in canvas camp chairs, wearily flicking 
away flies and reliving the days when they were young, as the band director 
leads the aggregation of local instrument players in the perennial Strauss 
waltzes and Sousa marches. Younger couples push baby carriages down 
the lantern-illuminated walks, and as the music weaves its spell, they forget 
for a time the budget and other immediate problems. In a remote corner of 
the park, some of the high-school crowd play tennis. Their buoyant laughter 
drifts over the courts: the only other sounds are those of the tennis balls 



October, 1958 13 

as they thud against rackets, and of nocturnal insects droning as they swarm 
in frantic clouds around the floodlights. Snatches of music come on an oc- 
casional breeze from the other side of the park, and now and then, one hears 
the swoosh of a five-year-old skimming down a slide. About eleven o'clock, 
the lanterns wink "good night," and gathering up their camp chairs, children, 
and tennis rackets, the tired citizens leave for home, or for a soda at the inn 
on the lake. 

But while all this is going on, another part of Danville wants excitement. 
Red lights beckon on Green Street as the prostitutes put the finishing touches 
on their makeup in anticipation of the evening's trade. The pungent odor of 
cheap perfume comes wavering out the plastic-curtained windows and seems 
to permeate even the pavement of the streets. Tension runs high. Raids by 
the sheriff's office are frequent. Often, grim-faced M. P.'s from nearby 
Chanute Air Force Base park their official cars outside the notorious shacks, 
returning after a few minutes with some chagrined airman arrested on the 
one block that is "off limits" to all military personnel. 

And past the barns of sleeping cattle on the South Highway, still more 
excitement can be found. "The Lamplighter," "Don's," "The Glass Pitcher," 
and "Alibi Inn" are filled with people seeking excitement. At the "Jungle 
Club," tables and booths are brimming with people laughing loudly. Ciga- 
rettes glow like miniature phosphorous torches scattered here and there in 
the hazy gloom. The only sign of coolness in the stifling atmosphere is the 
frosty "sweat" coating the glasses and beer bottles. The dancers contort 
violently to the brassy strains of a Negro band. All this is set aside, like a 
Rivera tableau, from the outside world and the highway and the sleeping 
cattle. 

Dawn comes, and the glaring Sunday morning sun melts over the city. 
The prostitutes lock their doors and remove their stale makeup, settling 
themselves into exhaustion until night returns, bringing with it a new assort- 
ment of airmen, youths from neighboring farms and universities, and unhappy 
husbands. And across the other end of town, families gather around their 
breakfast tables, immersed in the Sunday paper and thoughts as mundane as 
Sunday picnics and washing the family car. 

On the square, the bells peal cheerfully, calling the citizens to St. Pat- 
rick's and the First Presbyterian church. And some come, hardly aware that 
as they pray for the sins of their fellow men, they are praying for those 
sleeping on Green Street, and for those waking up with splitting headaches 
after a night on the South Highway. 

And Danville rests on the Illinois prairie like some strange unknown 
phenomenon : by day the ideal home town, by night a city of infamy and sin. 



14 The Green Caldron 



The KiUer 

Lawrence D. Swidler 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 10 

ELEVEN O'CLOCK ON A SATURDAY NIGHT, I WAS ALONE. 
What kind of a deal was that? There I sat in my new convertible on 
a gorgeous July night and where was my girl? She was still at her 
hen party with all of her giggly girl friends. Why didn't she come out already? 
She told me ten-thirty. Finally ! Here she came, at last. As I saw her walk 
down to the car, the wait didn't seem bad at all — no, not bad at all. 

She jumped in next to me, I got my "hello kiss," and we took oflf. She 
said she was thirsty; so right away I whipped over to the Steak 'n' Shake. 
While we were sitting over our sodas, some rod- jockey next to me started to 
feel his oats. His buddy sneered, "Y'wanta drag?" at me, and laughed. He 
must've thought there was a rocket under his hood in order to dream of 
"taking" me. I told him that when I wanted him, I'd find him. He yelled 
back, as they left the lot, "I'll see you on the highway, dusteater !" 

We lingered for a few more minutes over our drinks before I felt a swelling 
urge inside. I pulled out slowly onto the main drag and drove south, toward 
the highway. The air was clean and crisp and the hum of the motor reminded 
me of a panther, ready to leap. When we hit the highway, I edged her up to 
seventy, until we left traffic behind. 

I was ready. The time was right. Over the next hill, or the one after 
that, I'd see the tail lights I was looking for. I hit the accelerator. The car 
jumped like Br'er Rabbit. The speedometer started its climb around the dial. 
My girl stopped talking as the needle passed one hundred and started to 
breathe hard when it rose on toward one-twenty. 

We hit the top of the hill, or was it the next hill, or the one after that? 
Anyway in front of us about a mile away was a flashing red light. "Well," 
I figured, "they caught me in a radar net. Now what'll I try?" But I didn't 
have to try anything, because as we got closer we saw that the blinker wasn't 
for us. There, on the turnoff to the Forest Preserves, was another car, but 
this one was all over the turnoff. It looked as if it had bounced off of the 
concrete lane divider. The body of the old job looked more like an accordion 
than a car, and the two fellows that were in it wound up splattered across 
the concrete. They'd see me on the road, I thought ; sure they would. Nobody's 
gonna see me, not at those speeds, anyway. No sir, not again. 



October, 1958 IS 

Humble Town Refuses Role 
as Fair City 

Cyrus G. Mueth 

Rhetoric 101, Theme 9 
Editor : 

When the officials of a small town, such as ours, lose their insight and 
good judgment, it is sometimes necessary for the younger generation to assume 
partial responsibility in order to save the reputation of their fair city. And if 
the conflict between the younger generation and the town fathers is not too 
much of an additional burden on the reputation of our city, then truly it will 
survive to be a town of which we may boast. 

A few days ago you ran a news article concerning the assault and "merciless 
beating" of our one-man police force by a group of juveniles. It is obvious 
that your knowledge of the incident was derived from the only known witness 
to the assault — our police chief himself. According to your article, Jack Wird, 
while on duty late Friday night, observed a lone driver run the stop sign at 
First and Main. He pursued the car with siren screaming and lights flashing ; 
but the motorist ignored both, driving at top speed out of town on route 41. 
About one mile outside of the city limits, the driver turned onto the old High- 
bank Road and proceeded east. Mr. Wird overtook the car at the edge of 
Deer Creek and, in the process of arresting the driver, was suddenly attacked 
from the rear by a group of young men who had emerged from the woods. 
He was "badly beaten and left to die" in the middle of the old dirt road. The 
persons involved and their purpose are supposedly unknown. 

Lest this event pass without benefit to our fair city, I am writing this 
letter to present the facts to all our citizens and to give to our town board 
a true picture of their lawman. I also wish to make it clear that I lay no 
blame on the editor for publishing what he presumed were the facts presented 
by a supposedly reliable source. 

For many years we have had a peaceful, quiet town with no juvenile delin- 
quents, no habitual traffic offenders, and no frequent arrests. Six months 
ago we were in need of a new police officer ; and Mr. Jack Wird, having 
resigned his important position as police lieutenant in a city twenty times our 
size, was chosen to enforce our law. Since that time 25 m.p.h. speed limit 
signs have been posted along our whole quarter-mile of Main Street, known 
only as Highway 41 even to some of our prosperous old-timers. (Since this 
is the only thoroughfare through our thriving metropolis, it should appropri- 
ately be named after our zealous reformer ; already some are referring to it 
as Wird's Windfall.) Every Friday night from about 9 to 11, we can hear the 
habitual screaming of the police siren as another unfortunate motorist is 
caught in Wird's speed trap. Or perhaps the anxious traveler accelerated 



16 The Green Caldron 

before his car came to a dead stop at First and Main. It takes but a few 
minutes to bring the motorist into Judge Brown's office, ideally located at 
Third and Main, where the poor victim is fined according to his apparent 
prosperity. 

The main principle of this system cannot be overlooked. Mr. Wird took 
this position with the condition that, plus his monthly salary, he would be 
paid a generous percentage of all money collected from arrests. Nothing has 
been said about Mr. Wird's seat at the bar in Tony's Tavern. It has been 
rumored that money runs low by Friday night; so Mr. Wird's pockets must 
be relined for his weekend spree. 

Two weeks ago an attempt was made to persuade the town board to place 
Mr. Wird on a monthly salary alone. This attempt was made to halt the 
degraded reputation our city is acquiring. It seems that Mr. Wird and the 
board talked the matter over, and it was decided that the law must have com- 
plete backing if it is to survive. So Mr. Wird continued his relentless task 
of subduing the criminals and enforcing our law and order. 

Last Friday night a group of young men committed a grave criminal 
offense. They attempted, in the way they knew best, to stop the degradation 
of our humble town. But if the obvious reason behind their effort is so 
easily overlooked, we truly have a town destined for self-destruction. These 
young citizens lured our innocent police chief to his "near destruction" and 
"left him to die" in the middle of Highbank Road. Well, how many of our 
citizens would consider that "merciless beating" an attempt on a man's life if 
they knew the real facts? Actually Mr. Wird was subjected to a humiliating 
face-lashing, and a few solid blows to his middle, then left sitting in a tub of 
ice water without the formality of his breeches. We hope the press will be 
better informed on future events. And unless the officials of this town 
assume their responsibilities, their sons and daughters will bear the reputation 
imposed on their home town. 

Anonymous 



What My Hometown Needs Most 

Roberta Sax 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 11 

MOST TOWNS NEED A NEW FIRE ENGINE OR SCHOOL OR 
hospital, but Middletown needs Sam. Now this may seem idiotic, 
but to Alice this is a real problem. As far as she is concerned, Middle- 
town is deserted, desolate, dismal, and dingy without Sam. To her, Middle- 
town without Sam is like Sears without Roebuck, ham without eggs, Liberace 
without his mother. And so, as she listens to Elvis Presley records, she 
tries to figure out how she has become involved with Sam and their problem. 



October, 1958 17 

Alice thinks back one year to the day she had first entered college. She 
had come with the idea of dating millions of boys, playing the field, and, in 
general, having one hell of a time. Her life was planned : four years of college 
and then marriage. But in between there were to be no serious attachments. 
After all, hadn't she been constantly told that what she did in the next four 
years would shape her future ? She was there primarily To Learn. 

In the beginning, things went according to schedule. Alice dated a different 
boy every weekend. She talked and laughed and held pinkies in the movies and 
had lots of fun, but she refused to give anyone a second thought. Greek, 
Indee — they were all the same. 

Then "Out Of An Orange Colored Sky," as its says in the song, came Sam. 
Of course, it was quite unexpected (that's how things like this usually 
happen) ; he ran her down with his motor scooter. They talked for awhile, 
and then she limped home to do homework. A half-hour later he called. How 
he got her name and found her telephone number was a mystery to her, but 
"where there's a will there's a way" she had decided philosophically. 

That first night they went bowling (Sam won), and pretty soon they were 
seen together often. And many times, as she sat quietly and watched Sam 
crack his bubble gum, Alice tried to analyze her feelings towards him. He 
wasn't handsome, although his horn-rimmed bifocals gave him a distinguished, 
scholarly appearance. His physique wasn't of Tarzan calibre, but well, you 
know those "Before" and "After" pictures in the advertisements? Sam looked 
like "During." He always said she ate too much and should go on a diet ; he 
told her what to do and how to do it; he was sometimes inconsiderate — he 
wouldn't let her watch Mickey Mouse one night on television. He thought 
it too plebian. And yet, Alice obeyed all his wishes and never got angry. 
What had happened to her strong will power, her solid constitution, her 
decisive mind? 

Poor Alice went around in a daze. She couldn't concentrate, she couldn't 
sleep, she lit the wrong end of her filter-tip cigarettes. Was it love? She had 
to be sure ! One evening, she found out for certain. She missed the Mickey 
Mouse Show and it didn't bother her. "This it it!" she decided. "Sam is 
more important to me than anything else." 

And so, this is their problem. How to get Middletown a Sam. Sam 
lives one thousand miles away. What will she do all summer without him? 
She can't very well visit him and Sam can't go to Middletown— he doesn't 
have the gas money for his scooter. Perplexed, Alice ponders and ponders 
until she finds a solution. "Eureka!" she says, coining a phrase, "I have found 
a solution !" 

And she runs over to the Middletown Chamber of Commerce and an- 
nounces to everyone, "Middletown needs Sam. He is good, kind, brave, and 
all that jazz, and I love him and I want him here because I'm lonely, and 
like that !" The chairman looks at her. She looks at the chairman. Finally, 



18 The Green Caldron 

he turns to the others and says, "Gentlemen, every town needs one good 
Sam to be complete. We shall bring him here as a Representative of Good 
Will. Besides, look at the free advertising." 

Alice is overjoyed. She turns to the chairman of the Middletown Chamber 
of Commerce, and with tears of happiness in her eyes, she says, "Thanks, Dad !" 

My Theory 

John H. Althoff 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 10 

%w / HY CANT THE AVERAGE ENGINEER SPEAK OR WRITE? 
\\/ If an educator answered this question, he would solve a complex 
problem facing industry today. Colleges and technical schools today 
lay the blame on the limited number of English composition and speech courses 
in the engineering curriculum. I do not agree, and, at the risk of being trite, 
I now present my theory. 

To write a paper or speech of any kind, for any audience, takes imagination. 
The word "imagination" is the key to the whole problem. An engineer is a 
machine, and machines do not have imagination. Machines do not create. 
This is the fundamental difference between calculating and imagining. To 
think without imagination is to calculate, and calculating is a mere rearranging 
of the pieces in a puzzle. Calculating is not making a new type of puzzle, for 
the same pieces are used. The new t}'pe of puzzle must be created. 

There are some machines such as the Univac or the Illiac that can calculate, 
but they use the same pieces of information or information derived from these 
pieces. They do not have the ability to reach out and get an idea completely 
unrelated to the information that has been fed into them. They cannot create. 
They do not have imagination. 

When the engineer comes from a factory like the College of Engineering 
at this institution, he goes into the world packed to the top of his coldly 
calculating cranium with engineering theories and formulae, but with nothing 
else. Has he been trained to calculate? Yes. Has his imagination been 
trained? No. 

Upon meeting a graduate engineer, one finds that he can design bridges, 
aircraft, and electrical marvels, but cannot express his opinions about other 
matters. He soon runs out of material since he thinks nothing hut engineer- 
ing. This one-sided knowledge is the engineer's downfall. He has not been 
given the opportunity of free thought for thought's sake alone, and the result- 
ing nourishment of his imagination. This undernourishment results directly 
in an inability to compose a relatively good paper or speech. 

There are exceptions, yes. But these exceptions, we find, are men who 
take an active interest in other fields than engineering. This is a different breed 
of engineer. These men are thinkers, and, remember, they can speak and write. 



October, 1958 19 

The Decline and Fall of an Empire 

John A. Woodruff 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 9 

I AM SITTING HERE IN MY STUDY VIEWING ONE OF THE 
books on ancient history, and wondering how a whole nation of intelH- 
gent people could be so oblivious to their destruction. When the campaign 
against them really began to take effect, the so very few persons that did 
realize what was happening were completely helpless. History was repeating 
itself. The United States of America was decaying and would crumble just 
as the Roman Empire had done before. 

You must understand that the situation during the last half of the twentieth 
century was far from new. It was not the first time that one nation sought to 
overthrow another. The method, however, is the unusual part of the story. 
The population was simply allowed to grow old and die ! 

After having unsuccessfully employed violent means for almost a decade, 
the Russians finally conceived the Master Plan. If the Americans were not 
allowed to reproduce, in a hundred years there would be no Americans. The 
method by which this plan was accomplished was a masterpiece in the study 
of human nature and in the particular nature of the American male. The 
women were simply and voluntarily defeminized ! 

The battle plans were carried out quickly and efficiently. Top men were 
sent out to the fashion centers of the world with orders to work their way into 
the elite circle of designers and attain a position that would allow them to carry 
out the Master Plan. Within a year, they had accomplished their objective. 
The American female was no longer attractive to the American male. People 
who were normally engaged in chasing women were now engaged in illegal 
activities, and the police forces rapidly became inadequate. In a last, desperate 
attempt, the wearing of a sack dress was prohibited. But even this was too 
late. The men were completely independent of women, and soon even the 
women ceased to care. 

It is a sad story, and the story of a great victory. The Russians had over- 
thrown the American Government without losing a soldier or firing a shot. 
They waited until it was a nation of old bachelors and spinsters and then 
brought in their healthy young men. But they had learned from experience. 
They made sure their young women were clothed in tight skirts and sweaters, 
and the wearing of a sack dress was a crime punishable by death. 



One Way of Looking at It 

The word prejudice, in my opinion, is one of the most misused words in our language. It 
is used as a wall behind which people of any race, religion, nationality, or other special 
group can hide from the people of groups foreign to their own. It is most commonly used 
as a defensive measure by a person who finds himself losing an argument; he protects 
himself by saying, "You're just prejudiced." ^^^^^ Sandberg, Rhetoric 102 



20 The Green Caldron 



Empress of Calvary 

Sue Divan 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 12 

THE TOWN IS AMHERST, MASSACHUSETTS ; THE TIME IS 
late April ; the year is 1886. The quietly austere yellow brick mansion 
sits back a few hundred feet from Main Street of the peaceful college 
town. The giant pines and the dense evergreen hedge do not afford a ready 
view, but looking closely one might glimpse the garden and the clumps of 
rhododendron and daffodils blooming flamboyantly in the early spring.^ 
Looking closer, and perhaps opening the gate and walking up the old brick 
walk, one might even catch a fleeting glimpse of a white-clad figure vanishing 
ghostily down a corridor inside.^ 

The house — the Dickinson "homestead." The figure — Emily Dickinson, 
fifty-five years old, a recluse from the world, said to be the greatest woman 
poet who ever wrote in English.^ 

Emily Dickinson was born in Amherst on December 10, 1830. She died 
in the house in which she was born ; after she was twenty-six, she rarely left 
it.^ She has always been shrouded in mystery, and her life has been and 
will continue to be a controversy among her readers and biographers, no 
matter how many attempts are made to analyze her life and work. Even 
in the town in which she lived, she became a legendary figure. She sent 
perennial roots, cakes, and cookies with cryptic little notes to neighbors 
and children, and became, in short, the village oddity.^ 

Emily was a dedicated artist, shy and a bit fugitive perhaps, but a woman 
who selected a way of life as deliberately as she chose a metaphor. For over 
one-half century, curiosity has spent itself in the direction of "Who was 
Emily's lover?" "What prompted her seclusion?" "What were the influences 
that determined her life and thought?" "Why did she write the way she did?" 

Though all the evidence is purely circumstantial and will always remain 
so, the inescapable conclusion drawn is this : Emily Dickinson's poetry was 
inspired by the men in her life and the influential environment of her ultimate 
seclusion. 

The men she knew, the "muses" who presumably inspired her love poems, 
she did not know well.^ The vanished lover could have been any one of the 
large number of fleeting male acquaintances Emily had. Her poetry and 
seclusion are said to have been prompted by this legendary inspirer. The 



^ Millicent Bingham, Ancestor's Brocade, p. 3. 

- Louis Untermeyer, Modern American Poetry, p. 89. 

'' Ibid., p. 94. 

' Ibid., p. 88. 

° Ibid., p. 89. 

"James Soulhworth, Some Modern American Poets, p. 17. 



October, 1958 21 

sanction of public opinion has given the legend of a broken heart such vitality 
that it has withstood all attempts to disprove itJ Having accepted the theory 
that she renounced the world because of a broken heart and wrote her poems 
because of one man, her biographers differ only as to the identity of the 
candidate for her love.^ So they try to decide which man. 

The youthful friendships of her younger days were followed by a suc- 
cession of deep, lasting attachments, on Emily's part at any rate. Among the 
young men to whom she felt drawn in her youth was Leonard Humphrey, 
the principal of Amherst Academy, whose unexpected death when Emily was 
nineteen was her "first affliction." ® 

Her first "muse" was the young lawyer, Benjamin F. Newton, who, some 
say, was the first to give direction to her career as an artist.^*' He fed her 
eager interest as he talked with her about the nature of existence. In the 
late 1840's, he was a law student in the office of Emily's father. While in 
Amherst, he introduced Emily and her sister, Lavinia, to the writings of the 
Bronte sisters, and he presented Emily with a copy of Emerson's poems in 
1849, two years after they were first published. In 1850 he set up his own 
practice in a neighboring town ; in the following year he married. In 1853, 
in his thirty-third year, and when Emily was twenty-two, he died of tubercu- 
losis. Ben Newton had been one of Emily's earliest "preceptors" and his 
memory always remained within her.^^ Newton awakened in Emily a response 
to intellectuality and an appreciation of literature, which later made her call 
him "the friend who taught me immortality." It would seem, then, that 
when Emily was about twenty, her latent talents were stirred by a gentle, 
grave young lawyer who taught her how to observe the world. Perhaps during 
the five years after Newton's death in 1853, she attempted, in a manner, to 
fashion verses, but her first muse had left the land, and to bestir her talent 
further, she had to await the coming of the second.^^ 

Though all evidence is, again, circumstantial, the supposition is that in 
1854, Emily fell deeply in love with Reverend Charles Wadsworth, pastor 
of the Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia. Lavinia and Emily, then aged 
twenty-three, were visiting an old school friend in Philadelphia for two weeks 
early in May of 1854. Though there is no record of the event, one must sup- 
pose that Emily went to hear Wadsworth preach. Perhaps she met him 
then. The only certain fact is that he called on her in Amherst some five 
years later. That visit and another he paid her briefly in the summer of 1880 
are the only two known, and quite possibly the only two he every made. But 



'' Bingham, Ancestor's Brocade, p. 97. 
"Bingham, Emily Dickinson, A Revelation, p. 4. 
" Ibid., pp. 7 and 8. 

^^ Thomas Johnson, "Prisms of a Poet," Saturday Reviezv of Literature, 33 : 16 (June 
1950). 

" Johnson, The Poems of Emily Dickinson, Introduction, XX. 
^'- Ibid.. XXI. 



22 The Green Caldron 

letters that she wrote after his death state much and imply more.^^ She 
called this profound and eloquent "man of God" her "dearest earthly friend." ^^ 
He was her "shepherd from little girl-hood," this preacher "whom to know 
was life." ^^ 

Emily Dickinson was surely born to her talent as a poet, but she felt 
no dedication to her art until she met Reverend Wadsworth. After this 
meeting, she began desultorily writing a few poems of nature, such as "Bring 
Me the Sunset in A Cup" and "These Are the Days When the Birds Come 
Back." In the following year, an increasing proportion of poems were written 
with deepened purpose. Then came the event of Wadsworth's first visit to 
her in 1859. A volcanic commotion in the emotional life of Emily Dickinson 
was becoming apparent in her poetry now.-^^ 

The Philadelphia pastor, approximately fifty years old at this time, was 
at the zenith of his mature influence, fifteen years married, and the head of a 
family — an established man of God whose rectitude was unquestioned.^'^ In 
such a career, there was no room for the slightest wayward inclination. One 
could readily see how Emily might idolize such a man, but what could she 
have meant to him? Charles Wadsworth was a man of intense sympathies. 
He was unsparing of himself in his ministering to the sick and all afflicted and 
troubled spirits. People clung to him, and Emily Dickinson was undoubtedly 
one of them.^^ Both of his visits were probably made at her request on 
occasions when he was traveling nearby. His youngest son, Dr. William 
Wadsworth, contends that his father happened to call on Emily in Amherst 
("There came a day at summer's full, entirely for me. . .") because an intimate 
friend lived nearby whom he sometimes visited. His kindliness prompted him 
to pay her a parochial call. Emily may have written to him previously to 
ask him for comfort. At any rate, he corresponded with her after that visit, 
and "I got so I could stir the box in which his letters grew. . . ," she wrote.^'^ 
His letters of spiritual counsel were certainly translated by Emily into symbols 
of an agonizing, unbearable intimacy. She brooded upon them until she felt 
herself dedicated to him. Her love poems say it over and over.^** The letters 
they exchanged did not survive their deaths. Except to her sister, who never 
saw Wadsworth, she talked to no one about him. That fact alone signifies 
the place he filled in her emotions.^i The picture that emerges of Wadsworth 
is that of a man utterly consecrated to his ministry, happily married and 
devoted to his family, finding fulfillment in his power to uphold and strenghten 



'" Johnson, The Poems of E. D., XXI and XXII. 

" Bingham, E. D., A Revelation, p. 8. 

" Johnson, The Poems of E. D., Introduction, XXII. 

'" Ibid., XXI. 

"J&tU, XXII. 

^"^ George Whicher, "Pursuit of the Overtakeless," Nation, 169:14 (July 2, 1949). 

" Ibid., pp. 14 and IS, quoted from Emily Dickinson's letters. 

^ Untermeyer, p. 94. 

"^Johnson, The Poems of E. D., Introduction, XXII. 



October, 1958 23 

the wavering souls of his flock. "Out of Emily's thwarted longing for com- 
panionship with the adored clergyman came a lyric outpouring which included 
the most intensely moving love poems ever written by an American poet," 
George Whicher has written.-- Whereas Newton as a muse had awakened 
her to a sense of her talents, Wadsworth as a muse made her a poet. 

By 1862, Emily's creative impulse was at a floodtide, and by 1865, the 
greater part of her poetic inspirations was spent. However, she continued 
to write poetry until her death. But one concludes that nearly two-thirds of 
her poems were created in the brief span of eight years, in her early thirties, 
from the years 1858 to 1865. 

The extent to which Reverend Wadsworth realized the intensity of her 
adoration is not known. His son says that he would not even have cared 
for her poetry. The poetry he liked was of a different order-^-*^ However, the 
ultimate crisis in her life seems to have been precipitated when Wadsworth 
accepted a call to a church in San Francisco in 1861. To Emily, his removal 
was terrifying. She would be without his guidance. It is at this time that 
she began to dress entirely in white, adopting, as she called it, her "white 
election." The name Calvary now appears in her poems. In 1862, she used 
it nine times, always in verses charged with intense emotion. She speaks of 
herself as the "queen" of Calvary, and grieving for her lost lover, she recalls 
"old times in Calvary." ^4 In 1870, Wadsworth was back in Philadelphia in 
another church, where he remained until his death on April 1, 1882. Though 
nothing would again wring from her the anguish and poetic fulfillment of 
the years 1861 through 1865, she continued to write verses throughout her 
life.^^ At his death she applied to him a line from Tennyson : "Of love that 
never found its earthly close, what sequel?" Thus, more than any other 
man, Wadsworth has been identified with the lover of her poems. -^ 

Among other men who have often been disputed as the inspirers of Emily 
Dickinson is Edward Hunt, husband of author Helen Hunt Jackson, one of 
Emily's close friends. One author discovered a secret lover in George Gould, 
also of Amherst College. Still another went so far as to accuse her of a 
Freudian father-complex.-''' Most of the stories of these incongruous lovers 
have been disposed of, however, and in their place has emerged the more 
preferred story of the Reverend Wadsworth as the true inspirer. 

Other deep attachments after Wadsworth were only two, if the evidence 
is reliable. Samuel Bowles of Springfield, whom she loved "beyond sentimen- 
tality," and Judge Otis P. Lord, one of her father's closest friends, were each 



^ Whicher, p. 14. 

"^ Ibid., p. 15. 

-* Johnson, The Poems of E. D., Introduction, XXIII. 

-"' Ibid., XXIV. 

^o Whicher, p. 14. 

*" Untermeyer, pp. 90 and 91. 



24 Tlw Green Caldron 

serious attachments, but they did little to influence Emily's poetry, as they 
came about long after the peak of her writing years.^^ If there must be a 
single individual who influenced her love lyrics, and it seems, according to 
the public, that there must, the most plausible one, from all circumstantial 
evidence, is Reverend Charles Wadsworth, who, like all her other "muses," 
was totally unaware of the havoc that he was creating. He and the other 
men who may have been her inspiration were the men she knew least, who 
never suspected that they were inspiring poems that would later prove 
immortal. 

The mysterious event or events which prompted her withdrawal from the 
world, her seclusion at an early age, have been variously detailed and disputed. 
Biographers have always searched to find the reason why good-looking Emily 
("My hair is bold, like the chestnut burr; and my eyes, like the sherry in 
the glass that the guest leaves. . .") immured herself in her father's sprawling 
mansion for over fifteen years.^^ The legend of Emily Dickinson's with- 
drawal from the world because of a youthful disappointment in love has been 
wholly accepted as the truth because it is the most evident, logical, and easily 
understood theory. The legend arose during Emily's lifetime because the 
Amherst villagers could not understand either her secluded life or the fact 
that she wrote poetry .^° Though there are hints of the vanished lover, we 
are never actually made to see him, feel him, or realize his being, whereas 
there is a complete projection of Emily — her heart, soul, and influences — all 
her tricks of thought. The much-sought but still relatively unknown prompter 
of her poems and seclusion may have been Wadsworth, Newton, Hunt, or 
Gould — but it is not he who is immortalized in her work. It is Emily. There 
were outward events and attachments in her life, but in them the secret of her 
life does not lie. The emotional experience of Emily Dickinson cannot be 
defined in terms of thwarted love ; it cannot be limited to her feelings toward 
any single individual. "A broken heart is not needed to explain her way of 
life. To try to understand it in such terms is to fail to grasp its quality." ^^ 

If there was no man who broke her heart, what, then, prompted Emily's 
desire to be a recluse, to withdraw from the world into the seclusion of her 
father's house? Was it abnormal? a sign of morbidity? 

To begin with, the withdrawal was gradual. During much of her life, 
she did live in seclusion, but it was a seclusion which narrowed with the years. 
When did it begin? Not in her twenties, certainly. In 1854, she was visiting 
Washington with her sister. Five years later she was still doing her "courte- 
sies," as she called her social obligations, although throughout this time, she 
was showing more and more disinclination to mingle with the villagers. In 



^ Bingham, E. D., A Revelation, p. 8. 

'" "Out of the Top Drawer," Time, 55 : 91 and 92 (June 12, 1950) ; quoted from Emily 
Dickinson's letters. 

'" Bingham, E. D., A Revelation, p. 58. 
^ Bingham, Ancestor's Brocade, p. 98. 



October, 1958 25 

the early 1860's, she completed the gradual seclusion. She was rarely seen 
outside the house and received very few visitors. Now at last, she had become 
the white-robed recluse of the legend.^^ Emily's seclusion, the dominant 
theme in every study of her life, will doubtless continue to be a stumbling block 
as long as there are biographers to study her. If it did not happen as the 
result of a heartbreak in youth, what are the other possible answers ? 

Throughout her life, people were of utmost importance to her, but con- 
tacts with them exhausted her so emotionally that she shrank from all but the 
most intimate. There was about her an intensity which terrified some people. 
For her, actual living was a heavy load. Thus her seclusion became nearly 
absolute in the latter part of her life, and she found her "saving relief" through 
poetry .^2 This becomes one plausible theory. 

Another is that her wish not to see her fellow townsmen was primarily 
due to the fact that with people in general, she had little in common. ''All men 
say 'What' to me," was her way of putting it. She was reluctant to squander 
precious time in pointless talk.^^ 

Some readers think that she was afraid of and shunned the realities of 
everyday life; that she found the greater reality in the realm of the soul and 
imagination ; that she found the ecstasy of living greater when alone than 
she would have in the Amherst of her day. She found greater happiness in 
her seclusion than she would have experienced among the Amherst matrons 
with their small talk of husbands, babies, and cooking. She set her life apart 
for the art of poetry, and so unwilling was she to be diverted from what she 
thought was her calling that she deliberately chose obscurity.^^ 

No explanation of why Emily Dickinson lived her life in retirement can 
satisfy everyone. Not all people can understand all things. But no one can 
question that what she valued most was a chance to explore the confines of 
her own spirit — which could be accomplished only in seclusion, close to the 
certainties of her own soul. "Her poetry could spring only from the gradual 
expanding of a soul which functioned where it found peace — in solitude." ^^ 
For Emily, solitude was a necessity, her natural state. Like all creative 
persons, she needed time in which to read, to write, to think, and to be still. 
Her father's wish always to have her at home weighed heavily upon her; 
however, a more dominant reason for this inch-by-inch withdrawal was simply 
lack of time. This desire for a normal blossoming of her impressionable spirit 
resulted from the feeling that she lived in the presence of God — and 
Immortality.^'^ 



'^ Bingham, E. D., A Revelation, p. 4. 

^ Johnson, The Poems of E. D., Foreword by Johnson. 

" Bingham, E. D., A Revelation, p. 6. 

^ Johnson, The Poems of E. D., Foreword. 

"" Bingham, Ancestor's Brocade, pp. 322 and 323. 

" Ibid., p. 99. 



26 The Green Caldron 

Whatever the reason, her poetry was influenced by and written in this 
seclusion. Emily was a recluse in the sense only that she withdrew from 
village life in order to investigate things that interested her more. She ex- 
plored the secrets of nature and life. Nothing was too trivial or familiar to 
excite her interest. She took nothing for granted : snakes, flies, grass, stones, 
the rising of the moon — all were of the essence of miracle. Emily's real love 
was creation. Any object, man or earthworm, was caught in shining words.^^ 
She had a power within her which, no matter how slight the stimulus, and it 
might be no more -than an exchange of glances, could create a poem. No 
poet was so aware of the minutiae of her daily life as Emily, and perhaps no 
one was so unconscious that they were minutiae.^^ 

Though her seclusion prompted great poetry, it also proved a hindrance 
to her works in many evident ways. Emily, at times, too much resembles 
Great Expectation's Miss Havisham, who shut herself away from the actual 
world of men and women, living alone with only herself and her memories. 
Emily escaped behind physical barriers.^^ Such a life is not enough. Her 
imaginative experiences gained in intensity because of her seclusion, but the 
roots of these experiences failed to go deeply into daily life. Many poems 
reveal her inability to grasp the joy of reality. She accustomed herself to a 
life of memory — remembrances which were rootless.^^ Had this seclusion 
come after her emotional maturity had been fully developed, she could have 
gained much. Coming before, it is her loss more than her gain. She missed 
the completion of maturity that broader social contacts could have given her.^^ 
These characteristics are all of the one basic fact that emotionally, Emily 
probably never outgrew adolescence. Perhaps her love poems sprang from 
the very incompleteness of her experience. ^^ 

In May, 1886, Emily was ill. According to the minutely detailed diary of 
Mable Loomis Todd, the next-door neighbor of the Dickinsons for years, all 
hope for Emily was given up on May 15. On that day she describes Emily as 
"just leaving." The eerie presence, the invisible voice, the white phantom in 
the corridor came to a sudden end; Emily died about 6:00 that evening. 
According to the diary, on the day of Emily's funeral, May 19, it was a "most 
deliciously brilliant, sunny afternoon" for the "simple services." Emily Bronte's 
poem Immortality was read, and the procession then walked quietly across 
the sunny fields to the cemetery. One who might have been watching the 
procession as it passed slowly through the blossoming fields would remember 
onlv how small the coffin was.^'* 



^ Bingham, Ancestor's Brocade, pp. 98 and 99. 

="• Southworth, p. 23. 

" Ibid., p. 19. 

*'Ibid.,p. 17. 

*^ Ibid., p. IS. 

" Ibid., p. 17. 

"Bingham, Ancestor's Brocade, pp. 12 and 13. 



October, 1958 27 

It is plausible that any one of the many men Emily Dickinson knew could 
have inspired her love poems. It is plausible that from the very incompleteness 
of her experience may have sprung her love poems. It is conceivable that one 
of that number of men could have prompted her seclusion. It is conceivable 
that her withdrawal from the world was brought about by her desire for 
solitude and time in which to "blossom." One thing is sure — excuses for 
Miss Dickinson are not necessary. When all is said, explanations do not 
explain. What else, then, matters ? Whatever the provocation, all that remains 
is the poetry. 

Denied a public, even of one, Emily perfected her imperfections in secret. 
Lacking the partner, she played her game with herself. Yet when all the 
biographies are considered, the most successful game was the one she played 
on the world — a solitary recluse who had the world in her garden ; an escapist 
who summoned infinity with the trick of a forefinger. It is doubtful if, in 
spite of her isolation, there was ever a less lonely woman.''^ 

She surely contained a universe within herself, and all things considered, 
perhaps in the end she did not need the world. For Emily Dickinson is a 
major poet — the greatest woman poet who ever wrote in English. 



Untermeyer, p. 94. 



BIBLIOGRAPHY 



Bingham, Millicent Todd. Ancestor's Brocade. New York and London: Harper and 
Brothers, 1945. 

, Emily Dickinson, A Revelation. New York : Harper and Brothers, 1954. 

Johnson, Thomas H. The Poems of Emily Dickinson. Cambridge : Belknap Press, 1955. 

, "Prisms of a Poet," Saturday Rcviczu of Literature, 33:16-17 (June 3, 1950). 

"Out of the Top Drawer," Time, 55:91-92 (June 12, 1950). 

SouTHWORTH. James G. Som^ Modern American Poets. Oxford: Basil Blackwell Com- 
pany, 1950. 

Untermeyer, Louis, ed. Modern American Poetry. New York: Harcourt, Brace, and 
Company, 1950. 

Whicher, George F. "Pursuit of the Overtakeless," Nation, 169: 14-15 (July 2, 1949). 



No one is able to pick the environment into which he is born ; he must adjust himself 
to fit the type of pattern that is prevalent in the society into which he has entered. If 
he is unable or unwilling to conform to the group in which he finds himself, he will rebel 
against it, and he will become the "square peg," fighting the set patterns. If he is to stay 
in this environment and be happy in it, then he has to adopt the characteristics common 
to this society. If he does conform, then he will have accomplished what the Parisian 
fashion designer suggests — he will have taken on "the form of the garment that envelops" 
him. 

George G. Bryan, Rhetoric 101 



28 The Green Caldron 

Rhet as Writ 

Gulliver manages to find land which is inhibited by minute people called Lilliputians. 



Westinghouse scraped a whole heating plant because it was not paying for itself. 



A fish was caught that had supposedly been dead for millions of years. 
I unanimously agreed. 



The two main clauses are relative and irrelevant. 



Am I ready for college? This poses a very important question which I think is taken very 
lightly by far less students than should be. 



There's nothing like a good mystery, or a moving love story, or plain disaster to take 
people's minds off the turmoil and comotion of the days work. 



You must know what places to go to and what places not to go to and how to dress for 
each one. 



We never got a chance to get the strict formal type date in but everyone enjoyed himself 
roughly. 



Since time immoral . . . 



This doorway is a large stone in the path leading from a child's world into adulthood. 



Women are playing a vital role in industry in this modern era. They are constantly being 
educated in designing, chemical engineering, mathematics, and many other fields which are 
detramental to our nation's economic system. 



We should be willing to give aid to a revolting people who want freedom not fail to do so 
as we did in Hungary and Poland. 



The Contributors 



FrancM Bother*— -Serena Comm. H.S., Serena, 111. 

Paul FrJedmai^— G.E.D., U.S. Navy 

Sue Divan^— Oakwood 

Sandra Setter*— Villa Grove 

Paul W, Higginbotham — Mt, Carmel, Chicago 

John Tatcher — ^Morris Comm. H.S. 

Elizabeth fto&erto^Urbana 

Cindy L ee P roviao Twp., Maywood 

Susanne Campbell — Pecatonica, III. 

Helen Leoin>— Danville 

Lavorence D. Stoidler — South Shore, Chicago 

Cyru* G. Mueth — Our Lady of the Ozarks, H.S. Dept., 
Carthage, Mo. 

Roberta S€ix — South Shore, Chicago 

John H, Althoff — St. Anthony H.S., Effingham 

John A. Woodruff — Carllnville Comm. H.S. 



fwE Green Caldron 

A MAGAZINE OF FRESHMAN WRITING 



CONTENTS 

Larry Schafer: What Is Loyally? 1 

William Prestiell: A Look at Discrimination 2 

Marshall Dapiii: An Evaluation of Two Positions 3 

Dale Lytton: Theme Song 7 

Jou Jenkins: Retaliation 8 

Edtoard NieliMis: Science Our Savior 9 

Johnie M. Driver: The Controlling Force 10 

Aiinee Merriani: The Advantages of Defeat 14 

Barbara Batenian : Indian Raid 15 

Anonymous: Modern Babbitts — Trained by Fraternities 17 

Wolfgang Stemmler: Raising Rabbits 19 

James B. Ellern: America's Number One Fraud 21 

John McTaggart Bustard: The World and Billy Graham 22 

William D. Miller: The Triumvirate 24 

Rhet as Writ 23 



Vol. 28, No. 2 December, 1958 



UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 



_Lhe Green Caldron is published four times a year by the 
Rhetoric Staff at the University of Illinois. Material is chosen 
from themes and examinations written by freshmen in the Uni- 
versity. Permission to publish is obtained for all full themes, 
including those published anonymously. Parts of themes, how- 
ever, are published at the discretion of the committee in charge. 
Members of the committee in charge of The Green Caldron 
are Herman Diers, John Dorenkamp, George Estey, William 
McQueen, and Phyllis Rice, Editor. 



What Is Loyalty? 

Larry Schafer 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 3 

y%^j OYALTY," A SINGLE NOUN, HAS NO SINGLE MEANING. 

I When written, spoken, or thought, it is usually expressed in terms 

"^^ of a certain object. It is used in reference to something. One does 

not say, "I am loyal." That declaration in itself means nothing. One must 

specify and limit. One must say, "I am loyal to this group, or to this 

nation." As an isolated, definite state of mind, loyalty is indefinable. 

Modern dictionaries attempt to define it, but they begin, "Faithfulness 
to . . . Trueness to . . ." They do not say, ''Loyalty is this." They cannot. 
They must define it as being related to something else. They must limit 
it in order to define it. 

One dictionary does attempt to define it as a concrete, single state of 
mind; however, it fails miserably. In efifect, it says, "Loyalty is the state 
of being constant." This leads one to assume that since the earth's rotation 
on its axis is constant, the earth has loyalty. Of course, this is not true ; but, 
in my estimation, it is true that a definition completely and adequately de- 
fining loyalty has not yet been recorded. 

What is loyalty? In vague terms, it is a human concern for, or emotion 
for, or toward, some definite thing, "definite thing" being any one of a 
number of different, available objects. Such objects, which receive loyalty, are 
one's country, one's family, one's home town, state, or national athletic 
team. One may be loyal to an ideal, a leader, or a master. 

Since a "human emotion" or "concern" may include an infinite variety of 
states of mind in varying degrees of intensity, the one general type of emotion 
intended in the definition of loyalty must now be established. Here, though, 
is the difficulty. An emotion is formally defined as any departure from the 
normal calm of the mental state. It may be joy, fear, sorrow, anger, surprise 
— any number of conditions. Of course, the "human emotion" in the de- 
finition of loyalty refers to one or, at most, a very few of the numerous 
existing emotions. But to which one does it refer? Does a soldier loyal to 
his leader display the same emotion as a man loyal to a baseball team? 
No; so the words "human emotion" in the vague definition of loyalty are 
really as specific as one can get. To select one word and to insert it in the 
definition is not logically possible. 

Loyalty is a state of mind defying accurate description and definition. 
Because of its various manifestations and the widely different stimuli 
producing it, it is not a set state of mind and cannot fit a set definition. 
Everyone knows what loyalty is, but no one can define it. 

[1] 



2 The Green Caldron 

A Look at Discrimination 

William Presnell 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 4 

THE WORD DISCRIMINATION HAS FALLEN INTO DISRE- 
pute. As one examines this word in the light of some of its modern 
uses, he may be able to discover that he has a number of erroneous 
ideas concerning it. 

I am a discriminating person. I pride myself on how well I am able 
to distinguish between a good steak and a bad one ; if I had not this 
knowledge, I would no doubt be eating tough, poor grade meat at least 
fifty per cent of the time. By the same token a great many of our decisions, 
both important and trivial, require the ability to discern whatever difference 
there may be in our possible choices. If we are to be responsible, independent 
persons, then we must discriminate. 

Discrimination may be carried a step further. When one has differentiated 
between two things, it is possible for him to show preferential treatment to 
one or the other of them. That he do this very thing, both in his personal 
life and in society, is to the mutual benefit of all. Notice, if you will, the 
attitude of our own country towards young men. If our society deems a 
young man bad, beyond help, or criminal, he is thrown into prison, or some 
such fitting punishment is imposed. However, should he be highly intel- 
ligent or an able athlete or possess other desirable characteristics, he is 
shown preferential treatment in the form of scholarships, money, and 
prestige. Far from being bad, this form of discrimination offers incentive 
to those who would be ambitious. 

Now let us apply this term, discrimination, to a basic social issue of 
today, the race problem. Often as not, the word discrimination is used 
when prejudice is the word meant. The two terms are quite different, how- 
ever. Prejudice means, literally, pre-judge. One generally assumes, upon 
hearing that the Southerners are being "discriminative" in the South, that 
it is the Negro who is being mistreated. This is a dangerous assumption! 
It becomes very obvious that we have assigned meanings to an "innocent" 
word which are far from valid. We've heard "discrimination" used so 
often in connection with the suppression of Negro by white that we have 
unthinkingly come to use the two expressions synonymously. Because we 
have allowed ourselves this carelessness, we are easy prey for the rabble- 
rouser and the name-caller, whose object is not to introduce wisdom and 
clear thinking into the vexatious problems that beset us, but rather to sway 
our opinion, by words highly charged with emotions in support of his 
selfish cause. Let us cease to be partners in such folly. Let us allow our 
"discrimination" to mean "illumination" of the great issues which face us. 



December, 1958 3 

An Evaluation of Two Positions 

Marshall Dapin 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 4 

A. THE CASE FOR SEGREGATION 

Webster's New Collegiate Dictionary defines segregation as a "separ- 
ation from others or from the general mass or main body." The recent con- 
troversy over segregation has been based on the fact that Negroes have been 
separated from whites, especially in educational institutions. Many people 
have condemned this separation, presenting various legal, moral, and psycho- 
logical reasons ; and these same people have also presented evidence to prove 
that desegregation is both workable and beneficial. The first part of this 
essay is being written to show that the "integrationists" are wrong in con- 
demning segregation, and to support the contention that desegregation is 
neither workable nor beneficial. 

The first disagreement in the segregation controversy concerns the legality 
of segregation. Many people favoring integration cite the 1954 Supreme 
Court decision ordering desegregation as evidence that segregation is illegal. 
But in 1896 the Supreme Court made another ruling on segregation in the 
case of Plessy versus Ferguson. The specific issue was whether Louisiana 
was justified in passing a statute creating separate but equal accommodations 
for white and Negro passengers on railroads. The Court decided that since 
mixed cars involved a commingling of the races, separate but equal transpor- 
tation was legal. The decision meant, in effect, that although the Fourteenth 
Amendment to the Constitution guaranteed the political equality of the races, 
the Amendment did not guarantee social equality. Basically, the 1954 decision 
favoring school integration called for "a commingling of the races," or social 
equality, as well as political or legal equality. 

Some people include social equality under the term political equality. Even 
if this were true, the political equality guaranteed by the Fourteenth Amend- 
ment is not, in reality, constitutional. When the Amendment was passed in 
1868, the formerly seceded states were run by Northern "carpetbaggers" or 
by the military authorities, so that when these Southern states accepted the 
Amendment, it was Northerners who were approving the Amendment. Since 
an amendment needs the approval of three-fourths of the states to pass and 
since the seceded states totaled eleven out of thirty-seven in the United States 
when the xA.mendment was passed, it is unlikely that the Amendment would 
have passed if these states had been allowed to vote as they wished— against 
it. 

A third reason why segregation is not illegal is that the Tenth Amendment 
guarantees to states all powers not delegated to the federal government. Edu- 



4 The Green Caldron 

cation, in particular, is not a power given to the federal government. There- 
fore, it falls under state jurisdiction, and the state may then decide for itself 
whether it does or does not want segregation. 

Segregation has also been condemned by different individuals as being 
morally wrong. They quote Biblical passages to show that God disapproves 
of segregation and considers all men equal. They cite the passage stating that 
one should treat a stranger in the same way he would treat one of his own 
family. But these pro-integrationists forget that the Bible does indicate 
that there are distinctions between people. The best example of this distinction 
appears in the Book of Exodus, Chapter XXI, where the following statement 
appears : "If thou buy a Hebrew servant, six years shall he serve," and if 
the servant later agrees to stay with his owner, "then shall his master bring 
him unto the judges . . . , and his master shall bore his ear through with an 
awl ; and he shall serve him forever." These statements permit slavery, which 
certainly shows that all men are not equal from the moral or religious point 
of view. 

Further, several studies making comparisons between whites and Negroes 
have shown that Negroes have a smaller mental capacity than whites. Frank 
C. McGurk, an associate professor of psychology at Villanova University, 
conducted several of these studies ; and he concluded that even when the 
social and economic position of the Negro improves, the colored person does 
not bring his educational capacity nearer to the white man's capacity. McGurk 
tested a group of white and Negro draftees during World War I, and he 
discovered that only 27% of the Negroes either equalled or surpassed the 
average white scores. Before the test the recruits were matched for similar 
cultural traits s<? that the whites wouldn't have an unfair advantage. In 
1951, Negro and white high school seniors of equal socio-economic background 
were tested ; the results showed that only 29% of the Negroes had sur- 
passed the average white scores. Since these Negroes were better off finan- 
cially and socially than the draftee group and since they were not segregated, 
the only conclusion that appears plausible is that the Negro mentality is 
lower than the white mentality. 

Finally, in order to show that segregation is not undesirable, one need 
only cite several failures in desegregation. First, the situation in Little Rock 
has brought distrust of and less respect for the United States abroad, and has 
caused violence at home. It is true that Governor Faubus of Arkansas started 
the crisis when he called out the National Guard; but if he hadn't stopped 
integration, someone else would have done it, perhaps bringing more violence. 
Secondly, desegregation in Washington, D.C., has proved a virtual failure. 
White citizens have left the city in large numbers since the Supreme Court's 
desegregation order, and the schools in the nation's capital are mostly Negro 
(three-fourths of the city's school population is now Negro), while the suburbs 
are nearly all white. In Washington, D. C, white teachers have also raised 



December, 1958 5 

complaints about Negro students attacking them in halls, and about Negro 
boys chasing white girls and threatening them. 

Segregation can now be said to have legal, moral, and psychological justi- 
fication. Legally, the states are empowered to decide upon segregation ; 
morally, the Bible (the most widely accepted moral authority) condones 
servitude and thus implies approval of segregation ; and psychologically or 
mentally, tests by experts have shown Negroes less intelligent than whites. 
Adding to this the fact that segregation has failed many times, notably in 
Little Rock and in Washington, D. C, one must see that the logical conclusion 
is that segregation is better than integration for the United States. 

B. THE CASE AGAINST SEGREGATION 

Segregation has been the weapon used by white Southerners to dominate 
the South and subjugate the Negro during the past ninety-odd years. The 
Southerners have attempted to justify the segregation of the two races through 
claims of legal, moral, and mental superiority. In the previous section several 
illustrations and other types of evidence were presented to demonstrate the 
desirability of segregation. This section is an attempt to refute the evidence 
of the pro-segregationist and to present reasons why integration is better justi- 
fied and more desirable than segregation. 

The first segregationist claim is that the separate but equal policy of the 
South is legally justified. The claim is based on three arguments : that the 
Supreme Court, which decided in favor of integration in 1954, had ruled that 
segregation was legal in a decision given in 1896; that the Fourteenth Amend- 
ment, which was passed in 1868, is not legally binding on the South ; and that 
the Tenth Amendment guarantees to the states any powers not given to the 
federal government, thus justifying state laws favoring segregation of schools, 
transportation, and other state-regulated institutions and businesses. 

Regarding the first point, one can see that the 1954 Supreme Court 
decision superseded the 1896 ruling as soon as the Court made it. The 
Supreme Court had studied the issue for several years, and before reaching 
its decision, it had heard testimony from both pro-integration groups, such 
as the NAACP, and militant segregationists. If the segregationist claims that 
the first decision was the only valid one, then an obiter dictum issued in 1873 
by Supreme Court Justice Miller may be cited to supersede even the 1896 
decision. Miller said it was '"doubtful that the Fourteenth Amendment would 
ever be construed in any other way than to prevent discrimination against 
Negroes." 

The Southern segregationists also claim that the Fourteenth Amendment 
is not legal because the South was governed by Northern "carpetbaggers" 
when the Amendment was passed in 1868. Nevertheless, the Southern legis- 
latures did approve the Amendment and did not raise any serious objections 
to it until many years after the Amendment was law. The Southern states 



6 The Green Caldron 

were also in the position of a conquered people in 1868; and even if they had 
been forced to approve the Amendment, it would have been the result of 
the victor, the United States, recjuiring the loser, the South, to pay up a debt 
— signing the law. 

The last argument that segregationists use to give legal support to segre- 
gation is that the states receive certain powers from the Tenth Amendment. 
This Amendment gives states powers not given to the federal government; 
pro-segregation groups have construed the Amendment to mean that states 
may practice segregation. This may be refuted by pointing out that, because 
of the 1954 Supreme Court decision, the Fourteenth Amendment has implied 
powers forbidding segregation ; moreover, the Supreme Court also stated that 
federal district courts should implement integration. Therefore, if the federal 
government has the power to carry out integration, the states lose the power 
to enforce segregation. 

The moral argument for segregation may be refuted through careful study 
of the Bible. Although the Bible did allow slavery, it placed severe restrictions 
on the slaveowner. (Slavery declined considerably during the later Biblical 
period.) Also, it may be said that slavery was practiced in such a way that 
individuals were the victims, and not a whole people or race. Morally, it 
may also be said that since both Negroes and whites are human beings, they 
should both be treated as such. Christ's teachings in the New Testament set 
the tone for an over-all morality which more nearly approaches the true 
message of the Bible than any citation of isolated passages can. 

The pro-segregation case also cited several studies by a Villanova pro- 
fessor who claimed that whites were mentally superior to Negroes. Besides 
this professor, few other psychologists or sociologists hold that viewpoint. In 
the October 26, 1956, issue of U. S. Nczvs and World Report, eighteen soci- 
ologists, most of them members of the American Psychological Association, 
wrote an article which concluded that any differences in the mental abilities 
of the two races, which are shown by various tests, are "scientifically unjusti- 
fied." This article also contained a statement, signed by thirty social scientists 
in 1953, which was presented to the Supreme Court. The statement read, 
"that much, perhaps all, of the observable differences . . . may be adequately 
explained in terms of environmental differences" and "... innate racial 
differences in intelligences are not well founded." 

A refutation of the segregationists' final argument must present examples 
that show integration can work. A St. Louis principal reported that in the 
second year of integration at his high school, with 50% Negroes, classes ran 
more smoothly than the year before when there had been two whites for 
every Negro. In Louisville. Kentucky, school superintendent Carmichael has 
devised a plan for giving parents a choice about where to send their children. 
In 1956, 80% of the high schools were mixed, with the same percentage in 
grammar schools as well. 



December, 1958 7 

As for Little Rock and Wasliington, D. C, these are exceptions to the 
rule of quiet integration. A test study reported in the November, 1957, issue 
of Scientific American, conducted by Melvin Tumin, associate professor of 
sociology at Princeton, in the latter part of 1957, showed that Southerners 
are not so strongly set against desegregation as many militant segregationists 
claim, and that the stereotype of Negro inferiority will disappear after desegre- 
gation has become widespread. 

Integration, or the mixing of the white and Negro races, is justifiable 
legally, morally, and psychologically. Practice has shown that integration can 
work when given a chance by the authorities. Interviews and studies have 
shown that Southerners are not totally opposed to integration. On the basis 
of these facts, one may conclude that integration is certainly more desirable 
than segregation. 

Theme Song 

Dale Lytton 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 4 

THE BLANK SHEET OF PAPER IN FRONT OF HIM RE- 
flects perfectly his state of mind. It waits patiently, like a dog waiting 
to have his back scratched. The bluish lines merge and separate and 
merge again, and the vertical red rule resembles a pattern not unlike that 
recorded on the smoke drum of a seismograph. The background of whiteness 
glows and diminishes, flashes and dims, a neon sign that refuses to be 
extinguished. These are tricks of the eyes. 

And there are sounds — the occasional beep of an automobile-horn, 
the bothersome whine of an ancient Edith Piaf record playing on the phono- 
graph next door, the familiar noises of a poker game underway upstairs, the 
nervous drumming of his fingers. Think, dammit ! 

Think of what? The book says not to worry about thoughts, but just to 
start writing. He's not an automaton, he laments. Ideas don't flow like 
water from a tap at the turn of a handle. "Think — final exams only five 
days away — why not 'ace' French — turn down that phonograph, you idiot — 
about time for a cofifee break — wonder what Pat is doing — maybe a cigarette 
would help — think! This is thinking?" 

He thinks with his body. Nervous hands need no guiding thoughts. 
His knees press together, he scrapes his calves against the rungs of his 
uncomfortable chair, his feet dance to the music from next door. 

He squirms, he wiggles, he scratches, and his scril)bling becomes a 
mass of unrelated doodles that have no worth except as a collector's item for 
some aspiring psychologist. He viciously rips away the wasted sheet, 



8 The Green Caldron 

wads it in one clenched fist, and throws it toward the wastebasket, and his 
eyes are confronted by a second page, as pure and sterile as the first had 
been. 

He pauses, then suddenly grasps his pen and purposefully writes a 
group of words that meet the basic requirements of a sentence. He leans 
backward and relaxes, breathing a sigh of relief. The struggle is over. The 
battle is won. And Hemingway couldn't have fought harder. 



Retaliation 

Jon Jenkins 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 10 

HAVING READ SEVERAL ESSAYS THAT WERE CON- 
cerned with technology and its adverse effects on the human being, 
I feel that at least one voice, no matter how feeble, should be raised 
in objection. Therefore, I intend to become the champion of that most 
attacked symbol of this scientific age, the machine. 

Let us discuss this matter of man versus machine. Critics who would 
have the world remain in a static condition until that happy day when man 
is a perfectly adjusted being, ready for scientific progress, wail that the 
machine is becoming a monster that is making Man sub-human. 

Very well, Presto ! The machine no longer exists. Now Man is free — he 
no longer feels inhibited or suppressed. Of, course, there are a few 
drawbacks. With no machines, there is a tremendous burden put on the 
back of every working man. He must revert to the twelve-hour day and 
the six-day working week. This is, of course, only a physical argument and 
is of little real value to these philosophical opponents of the machine. But 
consider, this man has lost one-half of the time that was formerly his. It 
was in this leisure time that he decided whom to vote for, what shape foreign 
aflfairs were taking, where and how to send his boy through college, when 
to buy that new gizmo for the wife, or just what to watch on T.V. Granted 
it was also time that he could use to become an alchoholic or go quietly crazy, 
but it was time. It is time that we eliminate when we eliminate the machine. 
It is one-half of a life. 

The critics of the machine retort, "Well, sure, this time is what the 
machine gives him, but look what it takes away. How can a man gain any 
satisfaction from working with the same piece of machinery all day? It 
destroys his feeling of accomplishment. He has no pride in his work." Does 
the machinist find no satisfaction in knowing the intricacies of a three-ton 
milling machine or in knowing how to set up a multiple drill press or how 
to turn a hunk of metal into a polished piston on a lathe? If the hoist 



December, 1958 9 

operator can feel no pride in the knowledge that he is one of the few men 
who can pull and drop pipe fast enough to meet a drilling schedule, or if 
the mechanic feels no pride in having the ability to build a whole car, then 
I can agree with the opponents of the machine. Since this is very unlikely, 
1 maintain that a man who works with machines today can have as much 
pride in his work as did his grandfather who was a carpenter or a smith. 
He is every bit as much a craftsman ; only the tools are different. 

Therefore, I fail to see just what it is that is so terrible about the machine. 
Its adversaries picture it as a mechanical monster that is cunningly strangling 
the intellect and will of man. I see the machine as an extension of the human 
body that can perform a task with greater speed and dexterity than a man 
could. The machine is not an enemy; it is an ally. If Man's world is be- 
coming too difficult for Man to control, he should not look darkly upon the 
machine; he should look instead into the mirror. 



Science Our Savior 

Edward Niehus 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 11 

. . . How much of modern physical science is a mere ratthng of dead 
bones, a mere threshing of empty straw ! . . . Are men better ? Are men 
greater? Is life sweeter? These are the test questions. 

— John Burroughs, "Science and Literature" 

\w aHAT can JOHN BURROUGHS MEAN BY ASKING: "ARE 
XX/ men better? Are men greater? Is life sweeter?" Can he possibly 
believe that our modern advancements have not produced an affirma- 
tive answer to these questions? Civilization! Progress! These are his 
answers. It is science and technology which have answered him, and it is 
these two things which will produce all answers and solve all problems. 
There will be no place in the future for the so-called "Great Thinker." There 
will be none of his moral and theological perplexities. Science is our hope 
for the future. With its slide rule and element chart, it will answer these 
problems and present us with leisure, health, and contentment. What more 
can we ask? 

What comforts does literature offer mankind? None! It offers nothing 
but unanswerable questions, unprovable theories, and disheartening philoso- 
phies. Burroughs praises virtue, heroism, character, and beauty. But they 
are non-essentials, of no real concern to society. As long as the buildings 
grow taller and the planes go faster, our civilization will prosper. A three- 
day weekend is of much greater interest than a hundred theories concern- 



10 TJie Green Caldroji 

ing the difference between right and wrong. What use humanity if all is 
equality? Science will provide the world with three meals a day, and 
happiness will reign. 

Literature is full of noble ideas concerning moral and spiritual truths. 
But wdiere is their success? They have only succeeded in filling the world 
with prejudice and hate. They start wars, wars which science is called upon 
to stop. No, it will not be love and understanding which produce peace. 
It will be the largest H-bomb and the highest satellite. In these rest man's 
hope for peace. 

Scholars clamor for the knowledge of the ancient cultures. Could any- 
thing be more useless? Expecting such knowledge to exert an influence 
on modern society is like expecting a bark from a dead dog. Ancient 
Greece and Rome have nothing to offer us. We have long since absorbed 
their knowledge and surpassed their achievements. Proof of our superior 
intellect lies in the complexity of our modern civilization. We may now 
reject the past as if it were a faulty theorem. To believe that "the road 
to tomorrow leads through yesterday" is to believe in retrogression. 

The present is the door to tomorrow, and science is the key. Science 
will provide us with the essentials of life : a full stomach, a warm house, and 
a new car. Science will take a test tube and a slide rule and develop a 
mass-producible philosophy. No longer will every individual be required to 
struggle with literature's unanswerable questions. Any problem which is 
not applicable to science's unyielding laws will be neatly eliminated like 
a malignant cancer. A "soma pill" or a "hate hour" will get rid of any undesir- 
able emotions. Wlien science has eliminated the idea that only man is of 
interest to man, it will have eliminated literature. Then mankind will be 
able to settle down to a life which is as systematic, definable, unchangeable, 
and as completely enjoyable as science itself. Then we will be saved. 

The Controlling Force 

JoiiNiE M. Driver 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 7 

ONE OF THE MOST FRUSTRATING THINGS THAT MEN 
are required to endure is burning curiosity with no way of satisfying 
that curiosity. One of the issues that has perplexed man for quite a 
long time has to do with his origin, his direction and the impelling forces in 
his life, and his destiny. A result of this curiosity is the theory of evolution — a 
theory on which many views have been expressed. An excellent treatise on the 
subject of evolution is one by George Gaylord Simpson.^ One chapter in his 



The Meaning of Evolution. (New York: The New American Library, 1954). 



December, 1958 11 

book is entitled "The Problem of Problems." In it he asks the question : "What 
forces have been in action throughout the history of life?" He describes the 
question as being '"the problem of problems for evolution and for life itself." 
He sets forth three schools of thought, each of which purports to account for 
the impelling forces that determine the course of evolution : vitalism, finalism, 
and materialism. Each of these theories as explained by Mr. Simpson is 
discussed below. 

The vitalistic theory of evolution is characterized by the view that the 
truth is found in the creative aspect of the life process — the truth being that 
there is a force inherent in plant and animal life, a life substance, a vital ele- 
ment, that is completely non-existent in inorganic nature. This force, the 
vitalists believe, acts in an entirely inexplicable manner to determine the course 
of evolution. This view does not ascribe to evolution a given direction or goal 
but does hold that changes that arise are just the ones needed for best 
adaptation and that extinction is caused by the continuation of inherent 
inadaptive trends. 

The linalistic theory of evolution is different from the vitalistic theory 
chiefly in that it holds that the truth is found in the directional nature of evolu- 
tion — that evolution involves an over-all plan, progressing toward a single goal ; 
this goal is commonly taken to be man. Finalists believe that things happen 
because they were meant to happen, and ofifer no details on how they happen, 
simply accepting the course of events as necessary to achieve the desired end : 
the perfection of man. The notion has been advanced that the finalistic theory is 
held mostly by those to whom the theory of evolution is somewhat distasteful, 
and has served as a sugar-coating for the pill, persuading them that "evolution 
is, after all, consonant with their emotions and prejudices. "- 

The materialistic theory of evolution is an attempt to explain evolution 
scientifically. This entails considering the observable phenomena, determining 
their nature and characteristics, and making inductive generalizations on the 
basis of what is discovered. This theory is, of necessity, different from vitalism, 
which holds that evolution is inexplicable, as well as from finalism, which offers 
no explanation at all for evolution. Yet, in some aspects there are areas for 
possible agreement. For instance, vitalism maintains that there is a life sub- 
stance or principle that is independent of substances found in inorganic nature, 
whereas materialism agrees that there may be a life substance or principle, 
but that it differs from the substance of inorganic nature in its organization 
only — much as difi'erent reactions of combined chemical elements are deter- 
mined by the element's electron arrangements. Too, materialism allows that 
the forces of history could be materialistic and yet have been, as finalists be- 
lieve, instituted as a means for reaching an end. Materialism makes no claims 
of knowing how life began, the origin of the laws and properties of matter 
under which organic evolution operates, or the end result of evolution. It does 



" Simpson, p. 132. 



12 The Green Caldron 

hold, however, that Hfe is materiahstic in nature but that it has properties 
unique to itself which reside in its organization, not in its materials or me- 
chanics, and that all change in life since its inception is capable of being 
explained in terms of purely material phenomena. 

In examining these various theories, one is inclined to make a choice as to 
which he believes to be the correct or most plausible one. Such a decision is 
difficult to make. One is not likely to accept all of the views expounded by one 
theory, and yet he is likely to find some acceptable views in all. Any true 
decision, then, would embody a portion of more than one such theory. How- 
ever, any decision will include a greater part of one theory than of others. 
What is more important, perhaps, is the fact that in order to make any choice 
at all, one must first accept the theory that evolution has, in fact, occurred. 

In assuming that evolution is an accomplished fact, one must accept, at 
least for examination, the materialistic theory, for it alone ofters material that 
is open to scientific analysis. This theory, as we understand it, is plausible 
enough in the areas that it covers. On the basis of what we know, we can accept 
the idea that genes are the determining hereditary factors. We can accept as 
plausible the notion that adaptations to the environment can cause mutations 
in genes and thus afi:'ect future generations. It is logical to assume that natural 
selection and differential reproduction, as defined by Simpson, could be prime 
determinants of the ultimate direction of evolution, and it is not at all unreason- 
able to assume that environment plays an important part in orienting adaptive 
tendencies. 

These principles are essentially all that are embodied in the materialistic 
theory of evolution. They leave much to be desired. Without some governing 
force of some sort, there would be nothing to prevent mutations in genes from 
causing an infinite number of different results, none of which, perhaps, would 
be a change that would result in better adaptation to the environment. Natural 
selection and differential reproduction cannot be the growing forces since they 
facilitate adaptation only in the sense that they are a result of mutations. 
Something must cause changes in the environment to act upon genes in such 
a way that the resultant mutations will cause changes in offspring that will 
better enable them to cope with the changed environment. Therefore, even 
though we accept genes as being hereditary determinants, we must insist that 
there is some vital impelling force, some guiding principle, that causes muta- 
tions in genes to produce changes that provide for more suitable adaptation. 
Too, if there are universal laws that govern the course of life, similarly, there 
must be an origin of those laws and an origin of life. Just as nothing happens 
of its own accord, likewise, reason dictates that nothing happens without 
purpose, and if there is a purpose, there must be a Purposer. 

In order to satisfy man's burning curiosity and resolve the frustrations 
that are a result of this curiosity, we must explain the mysteries that surround 
us in terms of something. We must accept the most logical and definitive expla- 



December, 1958 13 

nation. However, we must remember that on the basis of observable phenom- 
ena, inductive generalizations are made. We must also be aware of the fact 
that these phenomena must be interpreted. Errors are made in interpretation 
as well as in generalization. A classical example of error in interpretation is 
provided by the case of Piltdown man. In this case a part of a skull, a jaw, 
and some animal remains were interpreted as being an important early link 
in the evolutionary chain of homo sapiens. Its authenticity was generally 
accepted for about forty years. Through a later examination it was determined 
that the jaw of so-called Piltdown man was that of an orangutan. Likewise, 
Newtonian mechanics were generally accepted as correct for well over two 
hundred years. However, the introduction of the theories of relativity and of 
quantum mechanics disclosed evidence of errors in generalization in the New- 
tonian theories. Future examinations and discoveries will doubtless show that 
portions of the materialistic theory of evolution are wrong or in need of 
refinement. 

The materialistic theory attempts to explain man in the universe in terms 
of observable phenomena. In this it goes far, but still it is incomplete. It admits 
that man is the highest animal of all, that he has the power to determine the 
direction of evolution, and that there is a decided possibility that he can intro- 
duce finalism into organic evolution. However, materialism does not set forth 
man's purpose or the final goal to which he would direct evolution. All of our 
experience and training has led us to believe that there is a reason for all 
things — that nothing, however trivial, is without purpose. If one accepts this 
fundamental belief, then, there must be a purpose for man — a purpose for life 
itself. The materialistic theory would have us believe that man, the world, and 
life itself exist purely by accident, having no reason for being, moving toward 
no goal. Logic will not allow us to hold such a view. Yet the materialistic 
theory, though incomplete and possibly wrong, is the best of the three in that 
it can be subjected to our present analysis without breaking down in its 
essential parts. 

The materialistic theory attempts to preclude the possibility of a supreme 
being, but the existence of a supreme being cannot be reasonably rejected 
simply because the presence of such a being cannot be subjected to scientific 
analysis. There is too much other evidence that supports such a contention. 
Aside from the evidence available to us through logical deduction on the basis 
of our own observations, there is also evidence from witnesses. Among the 
witnesses is one whose eminence is irrefutable and the veracity of whose 
statements has been found infallible for well over nineteen hundred years: 
Jesus Christ. Another prime reason why the notion of a supreme being is more 
acceptable in the light of our experience is that it alone provides a complete, 
coherent, and purposeful view of the existence of the world and man's place 
in it. 

In the light of all else, there is still room for doubt that man is a product 



14 The Green Caldron 

of evolution. If he is, however, his evolution will someday be explained in 
terms of material phenomena. His origin, the origin of the laws that govern 
his life and his purpose, it now appears, must be explained in terms of One 
whose intelligence far surpasses ours, of whom and by whom are all things, 
past, present, and future. 



The Advantages of Defeat 

AlMEE MeRRIAM 
Rhetoric 101, Placement Theme 

I SAT OPPOSITE MY OPPONENT, WATCHING HIM AS HE 
arranged the checkers on the board. His precision of movement and 
facial intensity fascinated me. This was more than an ordinary game 
to him. His hands rested on the checkers for a moment and then drummed 
nervously on his glass. "Your move," he said. 

My checker skittered unsurely out on the board. He plopped his piece 
squarely. Pie looked up and smiled. "My, what lovely blue eyes," I thought. 
I smiled back. I knew then what my strategy for the game would be. I moved 
again, and immediately he jumped me. 

"That was a poor move," he said. 

"Perhaps I should not lose so quickly," I thought. "I will try to win 
until the game becomes crucial. Then I will lose and he won't notice that I 
tried to lose." 

My next few moves were brilliant, but he countered each one easily. 
I began to lose confidence as I watched my checkers disappear from the 
board. I clenched my hands and glared at the table. His face was nearly 
radiant as his checkers hopped about the board. I was beginning to forget 
about wanting to lose. I wanted to save my confidence and my pride. It was 
too late. My last few checkers slid off the board and onto his lap. I was 
mortified. 

"Well," he said, "Do you want to play another game? Perhaps your 
luck will improve." It was so easy for him to be gallant. He had won. For 
him it was a closed case. He was superior. I swallowed hard and looked 
sweetly up at him. I remembered my game. Perhaps another round of 
checkers wouldn't hurt. Then he might offer to teach me how to play. I 
wanted to keep him interested. 

The next game went very quickly. Naturally, I lost. "Let me give 
you some pointers," he said. "Always keep your first few checkers out next 
to the sides. Move your men as a block, not individually. Think a few moves 
ahead of your opponent." 



December, 1958 ^ 15 

I thought ahead to a lovely walk home through the park. "Perhaps 
he'll ask me out to the dance next weekend." 

"I'll try to do better this time," I said. "You move first." 

"Would you like to go to a movie tomorrow night?" he asked. He 
looked very happy. "You're the first girl I ever met that enjoyed playing 
checkers." 

"I'd love to go. Pick me up at eight." 

"Suppose I did lose," I thought. "I gained quite a bit, too." 



Indian Raid 

Barbara Bateman 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 6 

WHEN MY BROTHER AND I WERE SMALL, OUR FAMILY 
owned a cabin in the Minnesota wilderness. Unpretentious and 
secluded as it was, we were not too far from an extremely interesting 
house. It looked quite out of place in the primitive forest — a huge building 
with tall pillars and white sideboarding, marked by great black shutters 
around the windows. It seemed unbelievably large to the two of us, and 
strangely fascinating. Our favorite game of "playing Indian" somehow 
brought us closer and closer to the estate each day. 

One morning, while stalking a particularly large tribe of imaginary 
Chippewas, my brother and I got the idea of investigating this mysterious 
mansion. But such action called for careful planning; we ran home over an 
unmarked trail, colliding with each other as we fell into the kitchen, highly 
excited at our wonderful idea. The kitchen served us well, as dining room, 
dressing room, and often, in the cold weather, as a bedroom. But today 
it was our conspiring room. The bronzed skin on our bodies shone as we 
dressed in the early sunlight. Lee pulled on jeans over his thin legs; my 
jeans, wrinkled and dirty, I hurriedly put on. We removed our shirts and, 
taking a large burnt piece of wood, traced wild black patterns across our 
backs and chests. Washcloths and rags became loin cloths tucked in the 
back and front of our pants. So little could we control our giggles that we 
were near hysteria, but somehow continued the farce. Dad had made 
intricately beaded leather head-bands for us, and we had found sea-gull 
feathers to stick in them. He had also shown us how to make simple toma- 
hawks from a hunk of granite, a bit of twine, and a young birch stem. Bows 
and arrows, hand-made under his guidance, were our prized possessions, 
and we got them from the other room. Then, armed and dangerous, we 
slipped off our shoes and sneaked barefoot back through the forest. 

The path wound and often lost itself in the density of the deep woods, but 



16 The Green Caldron 

since we had pioneered the animal water trails to make the original path, 
it was easy enough to find again. Talking in bird whistles, we were two 
transformed children. He was Okejawa and I was Arakina, two names mean- 
ingless except to small adventurers. 

We reached the house. It was quite stupendous ; it was beautiful. The 
sun reflected off its whiteness, and against the uneven crudity of the wild 
backdrop, it stood out aristocratic and fine. Yet it lacked something. It 
had to be raided! And we were just the ones to do it. Suddenly yelping at 
the top of his lungs, Lee began the dash across the yard, his feathers 
and his legs and brown arms flying. It was very funny to see what he 
called his *T-am-big-chief-of-all-thunder-and-lightning" dance. Not to be 
outdone, I too let out a shriek which I hoped would frighten anything 
living or dead, and catapulted myself over the grass. 

This antic over, we stopped breathless and stared at the door in anti- 
cipation. We could discern bustling movements as some shades were opened 
and others quickly drawn. My brother could not resist one last fling of 
his dance ; so, somersaulting twice, he cartwheeled over the black walk. Then 
he squatted on his haunches and cautiously drew one of his blunted arrows. 
After notching it slowly, he pulled the string back and let go ; the arrow 
flew to the door, making a terrific bang as it broke through the small window. 
Again he jumped up with a war-whoop. I was scared a bit now, but since 
I knew the arrows were harmless, I didn't let my slight tremor restrain me 
from loosing two arrows myself — one bounced oft' the side of the house 
and broke ; the other smashed a vase on the porch. 

Suddenly the door of the house flew open, and a terribly funny-looking 
man stood there. His hair was thin and fell over his skinny, long face. Two 
very silly-looking legs stuck out beneath his maroon bathrobe. We could 
hardly keep from laughing at this bathrobed gentleman furiously trying 
to break a blunt arrow across his knee, but succeeding only in bending it a bit. 

But Lee and I knew it was time to move and move fast. Unable to resist 
a last war-whoop, we flung our makeshift tomahawks across the lawn and 
dashed down the gravel driveway, the strange voice screaming obscenities 
after us. 

We reached the dust road, breathless from laughing and running. The 
sun was bright and hot, and our bare feet were so sore that we stopped 
to rest by the mailbox. There was a name on the box, and I stood to read 
it. Tracing the letters, I spelled out MR. SINCLAIR LEWIS. 

"Who do you s'pose that is?" I asked Lee. 

"How should I know?" he retorted. "He sure couldn't be much 'cuz 
he doesn't like kids. And besides, did you ever see anyone so funny in 
your life?" 

"No." I had to admit that early in the morning this Mr. Sinclair Lewis 
did look pretty funny. "But what about that mansion? He must be pretty 
great to have a place like that," I continued. 



December, 1958 17 

"Aw, he probably stole it," explained my brother. '*C'mon, let's go home." 

Supper was delicious that night — or so Mom and Dad told us. We 
didn't get any. News of our episode had preceded us in the form of a very 
curt, very irate note, dispatched shortly after our exodus. We didn't forget 
the spanking, but neither did we forget the episode nor the great Mr. Sinclair 
Lewis. 

It wasn't many years later that I was old enough to read Mr. Sinclair 
Lewis' books. Main Street and Babbitt became favorites. Then one winter 
I accompanied Dad on a business trip to Sauk Center, Minnesota. The two 
of us had dinner with the postmaster, a handsome old gentleman of sixty- 
five who had made Sauk Center his home all his life. 

"Dad, this is Gopher Prairie isn't it?" I asked during the course of 
the meal. "These are Lewis' people!" 

Dad said, "This is Lewis' country, yes, but I don't suppose he is too 
popular here." 

The postmaster laughed and added, "Nope, we don't think too much 
of that Lewis fellow around here." I remembered once thinking that too. 



Modern Babbitts — Trained by 
Fraternities 

Anonymous 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 2 

IN BABBITT SINCLAIR LEWIS CREATED A CHARACTER SO 
representative of a particular type of person that the name of the charac- 
ter Babbitt is now recognized as a noun in Webster's Nezv Collegiate 
Dictionary. "Babbitt" is defined as "a business or professional man who 
adheres to the social and ethical standards of his group." Although the birth 
of a Babbitt can begin anywhere, it is most likely to begin at college, where 
a person is thrown into a new situation and feels the need to conform in 
order to be secure and to be accepted. Joining a fraternity in college further 
precipitates conformity, for fraternity pledge training often results in the 
molding of modern Babbitts, men who are conformists. 

Conformity results because pledge training is designed to fashion a 
pledge into a shape his fraternity feels is desirable. The first step in the 
pledge program is to degrade the pledges. When a pledge loses his natural 
esteem for himself, he becomes more willing to be molded into the fraternity's 
concept of the ideal member. By subjecting a pledge to hardships, the 
fraternity is able to humble him. One such hardship is the prevention of sleep. 



18 The Green Caldron 

After being forced to remain awake for an entire weekend, a pledge loses 
some of his will power and performs actions he would not consider under 
normal conditions. Embarrassed because he performed these actions, the 
pledge forfeits some of his self-respect. 

Another way of causing a pledge to realize that he is not important is 
to make him waste hours counting bricks. This demonstrates to the pledge 
that the fraternity has little regard for his time or desires. By flaunting a 
pledge's insignificance, the fraternity degrades the pledge. An excellent 
depreciator is to shave the heads of the pledges, for this action shows the 
pledges that they have no rights and are subject to the whims of the actives. 

After a pledge is humbled, he is accustomed to taking orders in prepara- 
tion for the actual molding process. A pledge is forbidden to question 
orders ; he must automatically follow the orders given to him by the actives. 
Thus, thinking, as well as questioning, is discouraged. 

Once the pledge has been humbled and accustomed to taking orders, 
he is ready to be shaped to conform to the fraternity's ideals. Shaping is 
accomplished by regulating much of a pledge's life. Many of the fraternities 
require that their pledges study in the library during the day whenever 
they are not in class. This procedure enables a fraternity to regulate the 
study habits of its pledges as well as to encourage the pledges to make the 
grades the fraternity desires of them. 

Each fraternity also wants its pledge class and the entire fraternity to 
be considered "well-rounded." To acquire this reputation, the fraternity 
requires each pledge to date. It arranges exchanges with sororities and 
provides its pledges with dates. Some fraternities even instruct their pledges 
in proper manners. 

That pledge training results in a certain amount of conformity is 
evidenced by the fact that many of the pledges have the same study habits, 
dating habits, and even the same type of clothing. Many pledge classes and 
even entire fraternities can be recognized by the type of jackets or sweat 
shirts they wear, for they are uniform. 

After graduation many fraternity men are so well integrated to fraternity 
life and customs that they wish to remain fraternity men. Thus, many belong 
to alumni associations. These fraternity men continue to follow the acceptable 
pattern set down by their predecessors by supporting the fraternity — always. 

In this manner an alumnus can remain "one of the boys" even when he 
is no longer considered a "bo3^" Belonging to the fraternity, even as an 
alumnus, gives each the same feeling of acceptance he had as a pledge. Con- 
sequently, a fraternity man never feels alone in the world ; he can always 
rely on his fraternity brothers. 

Thus, as a consequence of pledge training, many college graduates be- 
come modern Babbitts. Many have been so well regimented by their frater- 
nity that they never completely break the tie. 



December, 1958 19 

Raising Rabbits 

Wolfgang Stemmler 
Rhetoric 100, Theme 3 

V S GERMANY APPROACHED THE END OF THE SECOND 
l\ World War with its highways, railroads, and other means of transpor- 
tation either destroyed or in the hands of the enemy, the food supply 
in different sections of my country became critically low and remained far 
below normal for several years after Germany's surrender. The result was 
that every family was on its own. In order to overcome this lack of food, 
families who could find a small plot of land started their own gardens. Like- 
wise, instead of going meatless, my family, among others, started to raise 
rabbits. 

The care of the rabbits usually fell to the younger ones of the family. Since 
I was the youngest in my family, from the age of seven to about ten, I cared 
for our rabbits. Previous to that time, my brother had had the responsibility. 
I raised our last rabbit. 

The stall for our rabbits was shed-like, about two feet wide, the same 
number deep, and approximately five feet tall. The number of rabbits we 
had usually varied from two to four. These had to be fed twice a day, once 
in the morning and once in the evening. Their appetite tolerated, as food, 
most vegetables, grain, clover, hay, and dandelions. Since we ourselves had 
very little of the first two, their diet consisted of the last three. Later, when 
I took care of them and began to spoil them, they quite suddenly considered 
clover distasteful. That left hay and dandelions. Hay, however, had to be 
bought and therefore was used only in the winter. So they ate dandelions. 
We, meaning the boys who were responsible for getting this diet, had the 
choice of going along the roadside and tearing the plants up one by one or 
of getting them out of a meadow. Since our "pets" consumed large amounts 
and the roadsides were usually picked clean of these plants, the first method 
was quite tedious and required several hours. We, therefore, preferred the 
second method, but the farmers objected vigorously to this. This meant that 
our task had to be done unobserved — or, simply, we had to steal. This some- 
times turned out to be quite an adventure. 

One Monday morning I got up, had my breakfast, and went downstairs 
to feed my rabbits. Arriving in front of the shed, I reached up into a small 
compartment containing the feed and placed two handfuls into each of the 
two troughs. I noticed that the supply was getting low ; so, Tuesday morning, 
about eleven o'clock, a friend and I went out to replenish our feed supply. 
We had memorized a fairly large list of the location of pastures and meadows ; 
in considering every location, we weighed the danger of being caught and the 



20 The Green Caldron 

chances of finding there what we needed. For the first try, we decided on the 
closest grassfield. We reached it after a quarter-mile walk. The field was 
rather small, about six times as large as the average backyard in Urbana. We 
were on one side, and a two-story house stood on the other. We had met its 
owner, but we had no desire to renew ovir acquaintance. 

The dandelions were quite thick and quite large. That meant less time 
and less work to fill our rucksacks, brought for that purpose. Quite casually 
we edged up to about the center line of the field. Here was a slight dip where 
the rain water had taken longer to seep into the ground. Therefore, the grass 
was extra rich. We faced each other. I glanced down the road and my friend 
up, taking one last survey. Then tense and grinning at each other, we counted 
to three. In four leaps we were at our preselected spot, down on our knees, 
tearing the green dandelions up, and stuffing them into our sacks. No mower, 
whether electric, gasoline, or atomic, could have outmowed us. In exactly 
forty seconds we had our sacks almost full. 

Wham ! "The idiot !" I thought. "If he hadn't slammed that door, he 
might have caught us." Both of us took two more handfuls of whatever 
happened to be in front of us, jumped up and ran — ran like hell. The owner, 
who had slammed the door and thereby given himself away, was at the end 
of the field, the wrong end, as far as we were concerned. He ran across, 
trying to head us off as we came "barrelling" down the road. However, he 
couldn't run diagonally and thereby get ahead of us because his meadow was 
bordered by a high fence on that one side. That saved the day for us. I was 
behind my friend, and it looked as if I would collide with our pursuer. Having 
two-hundred pounds hit me from the side did not appeal to me, but it seemed 
unavoidable, for this time I was cornered between a fence running along my 
side of the road and that "charging bull." Suddenly he slipped, just a tiny 
bit, but enough for me to get a one-step lead over him. I came charging 
down the road with my rucksack over one shoulder. He came charging 
across the field with his eyes solely on me. We met. His left arm made a 
wide sweep to grab me. Still running as fast as I could, I leaned forward 
as far as possible. His arm missed. Not only did his arm miss, but he also 
plowed full force into the fence. Any other time I would have laughed out 
loud, but I knew he wasn't through yet. As I glanced over my shoulder, I 
could almost see the steam rising from his head as he charged after us. "Oh 
brother," I thought. "He'd better not catch you now." The road I was on 
led directly into my home street, on which there was nothing but four-story 
apartment houses side by side. When we reached my street, my friend and 
I went separate ways. He ran on down the street, and I ran into the first 
building I came to. That was an old trick. That "big bull" behind me was 
certain he had me this time, but there he was wrong. Through the front door 
I ran, down the hall, almost falling over a bucket, and out the back door. 
Then I climbed over a seven-foot fence separating the back yard of one apart- 



December, 1958 21 

ment building from that of the next one. From there I headed for the back- 
door of the adjacent building. There I waited for the back door of the build- 
ing I had just left to slam. It did. That meant the street was clear. Out the 
front door I went, down three houses, in a front door again, and up three 
flights of stairs to my apartment. My friend was there waiting for me. We 
looked at each other, grinned, and finally laughed out loud. We were proud 
of ourselves. In all the excitement, we had not abandoned our dandelions. 
The experience just related was by no means typical. We usually were 
much more careful in selecting a safe meadow and avoiding such excitement, 
but since we never knew whether we would be caught, these field trips always 
brought their excitement with them. 

America's Number One Fraud 

James B. Ellern 
Rhetoric 102, Placement Theme 

THE NUMBER ONE FRAUD, AS PRACTICED IN THE REPUB- 
lic currently, is, in the author's opinion, the twin daggers which slash 
at the arteries and even at the heart of Civilization, to wit, Democracy 
and Puritanism. The two bugaboos are distinctly American characteristics ; 
nowhere else are they found together in such abundance as here, and nowhere 
else do they have such an omnipotent hold on affairs of state, public and 
private institutions, and daily occurrences. Below, the author shall attempt 
to set forth the origin of these two concepts, their nature, and their broad 
effect on American life. 

The rise of both Democracy and Puritanism represents the triumph 
of the palpably third rate over the admittedly superior. Both ideas were 
set forth by the canaille ; Washington was opposed to both, as shown by his 
writings and actions ; the eminent Senator Randolph of Roanoke declared 
eloquently, "I love liberty; I hate democracy." Ostensibly a contradiction, 
this phrase rings all too true today. 

The nature of both evils is fairly easy to discern in spite of their ubiqui- 
tousness and therefore many variations. Democracy is, of course, intrinsically 
farcical ; no sane American believes in the honesty of politicians, judges, and 
their compatriots. Nevertheless, there is one universal impulse in every 
democrat who is not being paid off. It is simply to bring every other person 
down to his level. He loftily terms this concept "equality." 

The nature of Puritanism is roughly analogous to that of Democracy. 
It is the rage of the average (i.e., frustrated and unhappy) American to 
make everyone else as miserable as he is. Because his wife is peevish and 
unattractive, he would have every man's wife the same way. He opposes 



22 The Green Caldron 

most forms of pleasure, especially those he cannot comprehend ; thus, he 
has a guarded appreciation of unadulterated pelf, but beauty in art is, of 
course, strictly verboten. 

Historically, the two ideas parallel each other quite closely, although 
Puritanism got a later start on the national scene. (Jackson's first election 
in 1828 was the first decisive victory of corn liquor over chablis.) Jackson 
and his cohorts swept in ; liberty and sophistication in the Federal Govern- 
ment blew out. Calhoun was the sole survivor, and soon democracy killed 
him too. 

The turn of the century marks the rise of the Puritan concepts in national 
politics. At first held in check by Roosevelt, who fought them with his own 
mania in 1912, they succeeded in putting Wilson on the throne. Eight 
years' exposure to Senator Lodge was too much for him ; the unhappy end 
result was a small town printer who invited Seventh Day Adventists to 
the White House for amusement. Concurrent with this was the Puritan's 
greatest victory. Prohibition, the sordid details of which are too well known 
to merit discussion. 

What will happen now? It seems that with the increasingly cosmopolitan 
(i.e., flagrantly sinful) attitude of our youth, both concepts are doomed to 
extinction. (The author does not speak here of juvenile delinquents ; he 
draws his information from widespread contact with his contemporaries ! ) 
In the meantime all we can do is keep our guard up and possibly perform 
some constructive action, such as the abolition of Congress. 



The World and Billy Graham 

John McTaggart Bustard 
Rhetoric 101, Placement Theme 

IN THE PAST FEW YEARS BILLY GRAHAM HAS LEAPED 
into prominence as an evangelist of extraordinary persuasiveness and 

power. Within the last few months he has drawn crowds which may 
well number in the millions to his rallies. There is no doubt that he has 
a marked effect upon those who see and hear him, but what is that effect 
and what bearing does it have on the conduct of the so-called "convert" 
and on the society in which that person lives? 

To find an answer, if there is one, to these questions, one must first 
examine the content of his thought and message, and then compare that 
thought and message with the world in which those who hear them must 
function. 

The crux of Graham's message is neither new nor startling; it is, in 
fact, no different from that of anv fundamentalist Christian church. He 



December, 1958 ' ^i 

offers a plan of vicarious atonement, personal redemption, and unquestioning 
belief in the literal truth of the Bible. Whether or not this theological basis 
is sufficient to support an insecure individual in a highly complex, tech- 
nological society is doubtful at the very least. 

We live in an age in which many of the traditional theological concepts 
are no longer acceptable. Too many of the doctrines expounded for centuries 
in the name of orthodox belief are in direct contradiction to such data as we 
can observe through experience. It is too much to ask of a rational human 
being to disregard his perceptions and experiences and, simultaneously, to 
believe what can probably be best described as allegorical folk tales. Further- 
more, religion need not be in conflict with one's experience. In the final 
analysis, one can act rationally only when his actions are based on rational 
beliefs and concepts. Any attempt to act on another basis can result only 
in confusion and disillusion, and no amount of hope for a better life after 
death can lessen that disillusion or quiet that confusion. 

Graham's message is directed primarily to the individual who hears him 
and not directly to the total society in which that individual lives. Any 
effect on that society, therefore, must, of necessity, be indirect, at best. It 
is extremely doubtful if any marked effect can be traced to Graham and his 
meetings. It seems to me that unless the factors which produce the effects 
which Graham is combating are mitigated in society as well as in the individ- 
ual, and simultaneously, any change in the individual can be temporary only. 

Graham's effect on his audiences is, I believe, probably emotional entirely. 
His hearers are confused and desperate. He oft'ers a simple, socially ac- 
ceptable formula clothed in a glamorous form. What the final result will 
be cannot be predicted with surety ; reason and experience, however, lead me 
to expect a rude awakening and a severe emotional hangover. 



Her scores on the freshman guidance examinations were far above average. The 
psychologist interviewing her predicted that she would be in the top ten per cent of the 
freshman class and revealed that her scores in literature were remarkably high. "You 
can do anything in literature," he declared. Then he asked what subjects she was taking. 
"Well, there's Rhetoric 100," she faltered. 

Cindy Lee, Rhetoric 101 



High in the rotting hulk of a once-beautiful sycamore, a woodpecker telegraphed 
his morning greeting, pausing now and then as if expectant of an answer. Two gray 
squirrels in the adjacent hickory tree scurried from limb to limb, cursing and quarreling 
fiercely at the great yellow owl who drowsily ignored their taunts. The ever-present 
crows set up a raucous cawing, as one by one they broke formation and furiously swooshed 
over a shrilly-screaming marsh hawk from whose cutlass-like beak dangled the tattered 
remnants of last night's meal — a rabbit whose pitiful squalls had momentarily aroused 
the sleeping forest when the hawk's razor-sharp talons had methodically ripped its flesh. 

Dave Schert, Rhetoric 102 



24 The Green Caldron 

The Triumvirate 

William D. Miller 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 9 

MOST PEOPLE BELIEVE THAT ADOLF HITLER KILLED 
several million Jews during the last war. Not so ! Neither did Joseph 
Stalin send Ukranians to slave-labor camps in Siberia. Hirohito 
did not start World War II by ordering the attack upon Pearl Harbor. 
These are simply popular fallacies. The more astute historian recognizes 
these heinous social crimes as the work of three powerful and dangerous 
brothers in whose bloody hands lies the fate of mankind. Every outrage 
against the dignity of man has been perpetrated by these infamous three. 
These brothers are of no specific nationality, and recognize no national 
boundaries. They can be found in any country and are quite at home in 
these United States. 

In fact, one is sitting now before his television set watching "The $64,000 
Question." He has just switched from another channel where a news analyst 
was beginning his commentary. Quiz shows are not his usual T. V. fare ; 
but an election is being held in his locality, and the other stations are carrying 
campaign speeches. Since he never votes, these are of little interest to him. 
His name is Apathy. He crowns despots — dictators to nations, to labor 
unions, to economic classes. 

The second of these three brothers is a relative newcomer to this 
country. He is named Servility. Although firmly entrenched here, he uses 
several disguises. Masquerading as cooperation, he causes men to submit 
to the dictates of the organization. Naming himself faith, he prevails upon 
men to accept truth and morality as defined by the policy-makers of a 
religious organization. In the guise of patriotism he induces men to fight 
wars and murder defenseless peoples. 

The third is Ignorance. He reads pot-boilers and votes straight ticket. 
His specialty is in paving the way for his brothers, for in his absence the 
others are bound to failure. Never an infringement upon man's sacred 
dignity occurs but that his presence is observed. 

Incarnations of these three states of mind, which are undermining man's 
attempts to attain dignity through democratic government, do exist — and 
to a surprisingly great extent. Surprise is the emotion that most people must 
experience when they realize that the blame for all social injustices and 
shortcomings in government rests directly upon themselves. 



They are very young; to be alone together seems a miraculous feat. He wants to 
give her a ring — she gets a cigarette instead. 

Mary Ross, Rhetoric 102 



Rhet as Writ 



The real "brains" in our conntry were literally "caught with their pants down" because 
thcv were so few in number. 



Many of them probably feel the way 1 do about autumn whicli is not unusual during 
this time of year. 



The manor in which it was written was very effective. 



Grant spent Sept. 8 and 9 deploring his troops. 



. . . seventy-four victims of relentless cruelty passed away each day, or nearly two 
everv hour. 



All at wants I felt something hit my bait, but tlic water was just a foot deep lierc 
and I though I was just caught on something. 



\\'ith satelites, moon rockets, and jet planes a common thing in the minds oi the 
American people, an education is a must. 



[Thoughts of sorrow] greatly outnumber tliose thoughts experienced during a wedding, 
wlien the first child was born. 



I have had a very hard life because my mother died at the age of two. 



This ballet made one feel like expressing himself in the aisles. 



Their are also many [athletes] who are in school for an education. This situation is 
not the fault of the athlete. It is the fault of the educators who have placed the many 
temptations within reach of the good high school athlete. 



[Women] become of legal age at their eighteen birthday, while men have to wait until 
they are twenty-one before tliey become legal. 



Soon my many belongings were sittings among the jumbled mass of my roomates. 



Being a mamal, the porpoise is grey in color and five to eight feet in length. 



the author of Huckleberry Finn, Sammuel Peppey's 



In the eyes of all Christian churches, hate is a corporal sin. 



Mr. Johnson's condition was quite bad and was taken to an insane asylum. 



After all my classes I rushed home to do my nails, hair, and other odds and ends. 



The building has a classical appearance with its silvered dome and yellow stone walls 
covered with bird droppings. 



The Contributors 



Larry Schafer — Rushville 

William Presnell — Urbana 

Marshall Dapin — Von Steuben 

Dale Lytton — Flora 

Jon Jenkins — N.W. Classen, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma 

Edward ISiehus — Plainfield 

Johnie M. Driver — Cleveland H.S,, Cleveland, Texas 

Aimee Merriam — Bethesda-Chevy Chase, Bethesda, Maryland 

Barbara Batenian — New Trier 

W^olfgang Sietnmler — Miami-Edison 

James B. Ellern — Ferguson H.S., Ferguson, Missouri 

John McTaggart Bustard — Warren G. Harding H.S., Warren, Ohio 

William D. Miller — Benton 



^60^^- 



^yO^'.Ca-^ 



Fhe Green Caldron 

A MAGAZINE OF FRESHMAN WRITING 

^ MAY 5 '^ 

CONTENTS 

Entile de Antonio: The City and the Plain: Loneliness 1 

Robert Lankaton: A Television Commercial 2 

Paul Schwartz: War or Peace? 3 

David Covin: The Four Hundred and Forty Yard Dash 5 

Dana Spencer: Darkness 6 

Joe Culberg: Greek Meets Creek 7 

Joel Kaplan: Saints and Sinners 8 

Sharon Simerl: The Mythical Morality of American History 9 

Entile de Antonio: Time 10 

Stephen D. Marchetti: Void World — 1984 11 

D. Craig Ahlberg: Jackson at Chancellorsville 13 

Suzanne Thomas: Shadows Do Move 26 

Barbara A. Hutchens: Optimism Resurrected 27 

Rhet as Writ 28 

Vol. 28, No. 3 Morch, 1959 

UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 



T 

JLhb Green Caldron is published four times a year by the 
Rhetoric Staff at the University of Illinois. Material is chosen 
from themes and examinations written by freshmen in the Uni- 
versity. Permission to publish is obtained for all full themes, 
including those published anonymously. Parts of themes, how- 
ever, are published at the discretion of the committee in charge. 
Members of the committee in charge of The Green Caldron 
are Herman Diers, John Dorenkamp, William McQueen, R. W. 
Lewis, and Phyllis Rice, Editor. 



The City and the Plain: LoneHness 

Emile de Antonio 

Rhetoric 101, Theme 11 

THE CITY, ITS VAST MULTITUDES OF PEOPLE MOVING 
to and fro in strange currents and eddies like a river's rapids, and the 
plain, still and cold in the moonlight, both foster fundamental loneli- 
ness. These two kinds of loneliness are quite different, but both seem to 
me to have the same essential basis, a feeling that one is completely alienated 
from one's surroundings and that these surroundings are in some way threaten- 
ing one's individuality — perhaps by their magnificent ignorance of the fact 
that it exists. 

The primary difference between this sensation in the city and in the plain 
seems to me to lie in the fact that the loneliness of the plain is a passive 
thing, while that of the city is an active one. It is the difference between 
the irresistible force and the immovable object, each overwhelming in its 
effect on one's mind, each reducing man to a dwarf. 

In the last year I encountered both of these kinds of loneliness often and 
there are instances of each which are nearly as vivid to me now as they were 
then. 

In the middle of the vast Kansas plain two roads met, and at this junction, 
though it was far from anything save the cattle and the fields, a town arose. 
I arrived at this town early one summer afternoon and stood at the crossroads 
there, thumb outstretched, waiting for a ride. For hours I waited, but few 
cars passed and none stopped for me. Finally, as the sun was setting, I lost 
all hope of getting a ride and decided to walk to another road that I believed 
was about eight miles away. By the time I had walked three miles it was 
dark, a clear, cool darkness lit only by the fire of the stars shining down on 
the black fields around me. The country was flat, and as I looked about, I 
could see to the limits of the world — to where it dropped off into the great 
void. At the edge of this world a glow flickered quickly — some unimaginably 
huge neon light lying just below the horizon. There were no cars, no people, 
no trees, not even an occasional light from a lonely farmhouse, nothing but 
me — and a great presence somewhere in the sky looking down upon me 
coldly as I stood pinned by the gleam of the stars. The world of people and 
cities was no longer real. This great dispassionate threat and myself were 
the only things existing in the universe. I started to run, then checked 
myself, slowed to a walk, and tried to think of other, familiar things. Nothing 
worked. All I could think of was that some terrible being was watching 
me, weighing me, passing judgment upon me — and there was no place to 
hide. 

[1] 



2 The Green Caldron 

I arrived in the city penniless, knowing no one, and spent three days 
walking the streets, looking, listening, observing the great swarms of people 
moving like lemmings toward some unknown sea. I walked in the shrieking 
neon neurosis of Broadway and in desolate streets like massive ruins of some 
former age. I was alone. The walls were blank and cold and ignored me ; to 
the people I was just another obstacle to walk around, or some animal that 
they must fight with in the dim caverns of the subway. The only people 
that spoke to me, beggars and drunkards, thought I was an automaton, that if 
they pushed the right buttons they would get what they wanted. The idea 
that I, or any of those unknown people milling about, might be human never 
occurred to anybody. But even through all of this I could feel a kind of 
striving — an essence of life. I felt that this monster was one that I could 
fight with, perhaps conquer — or understand. I was at the same time part 
of it and alien to it. It threatened me, but I did not feel helpless before it. 
Something could be done. 

Man is a lonely egotistical being who understands little about himself and 
the world around him and fears what he does not understand, who tries to 
isolate himself because of this fear and because his ego could not bear a clear 
sight of himself. But he must also have emotional support and so cannot 
isolate himself completely. It is this conflict, I believe, that produces the 
loneliness of the city. The loneliness of the plain is man's realization of his 
smallness and ignorance in the face of the universe. 

A Television Commercial 

In the Style of John Charles Daly 

Robert Lankston 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 6 

It is indigenous to most vertebrates to possess sharp protuberances about the maxilla 
and mandible known as dentures or teeth. The subject of this communication is con- 
cerned with the proper maintenance and general hygienic welfare of these protuberances. 

Teeth, to use the common term of reference, require your constant consideration. 
Lack of individual attentiveness can result in their disintegration or even complete decom- 
position. It is not conjecture to state unequivocally that carelessness in this regard is an 
antecedent of halitosis. And, needless to say, oral hygiene is germane to physical vigor. 

A highly effectual procedure in combatting dental disintegration and attendant mal- 
functions is a daily application of a dentifrice. A recent compendium indicates that "Cleen- 
dent," as a dentifrice, renders the most complimental results. This product is composed 
of ingredients designed to remove nutritive remnants that become embedded between the 
dentures. Furthermore, it is highly effective in eradicating discolorations, and leaves the 
breath osculatingly refreshed. "Cleendent," when applied with a brush in a circuitous 
fashion, is unreservedly guaranteed. 

Your unbiased consideration is earnestly solicited. Once you have applied "Cleendent," 
you will immediately observe the results aforementioned, and will add your encomium to 
that of hosts of others. 



March, 1959 3 

War or Peace? 

Paul Schwartz 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 3 

SINANTHROPUS EMITTED AN ANGRY GROWL, ROSE TO 
his feet, and suddenly launched himself forward with all the weight of 
his sinewy body, driving the obsidian point of his spear deep into his 
opponent's chest — and war began. Then, unconcernedly, he scrambled out 
of the cave, leaving his victim intact, to be found several hundred centuries 
later by some fortunate anthropologist. If the reader prefers a Biblical 
example, then the eternal embattlement of our species began when a well- 
guided missile careened off Abel's skull. 

Statistics prove that hardly more than a decade has elapsed since the 
beginning of recorded history, when a war of one sort or another has not 
been launched somewhere in the world. It is as impossible and impractical 
to realize world peace as it is to actuate Thomas More's theory of Utopian 
Socialism. 

It is necessary to remember that we, as human beings, command a posi- 
tion at the top of the evolutionary scale. According to accepted Darwinian 
theory, all species— the great proboscideans of the tropical jungles, the mice 
that scurry, unseen, about our fields and meadows, and even the myriads of 
amoebae that teem below the surface of the pond — must be kept in perfect 
balance. 

At first, the problem was not too serious, for men bred slowly, and disease, 
the elements, and the rigors of life made the average span of life com- 
paratively short. But as science and technology gained greater control of 
our environment, our numbers increased at a prodigious rate, and modern 
scientists, who have liberal tendencies, estimate that the average life span 
will increase to one hundred years in a century or less. Man has acquired 
frightening longevity, and now threatens to overrun the planet, crowding other 
species and the natural food supply into extinction. 

But evolution, as though it had realized Nature's mistake too late, added 
a highly aggressive personality to the human character and, its work com- 
pleted, withdrew temporarily from the scene. No one can argue that this 
personality docs exist and does cause us to struggle against one another. Man 
has been burdened with the task of keeping his numbers in balance with 
other life, and since that fatal day in a cave in Northern China, he has handled 
his duty admiral)ly. World War II, when vast multitudes of excess souls 
breathed their last, stands in mute testimony to this fact. 

Nature also made us social animals because general advancement is pro- 
moted by sociality, and thus people fight in groups just as ants, social insects. 



4 The Green Caldron 

swarm into foreign colonies wielding their sharp mandibles, and unwittingly- 
keeping their populations in check. In the case of ants and many other beasts, 
disease, famine, and natural predators aid in this unpleasant, but nevertheless 
necessary process, but in the case of humans the contributions of these factors 
are fairly insignificant and we must provide this inhibitory procedure almost 
alone. 

Certainly nearly every American understands the consequences of war. 
On the other hand, we are inclined to speak of peace with only the abstract 
and idealistic considerations in mind. Few of us realize the dread that this 
term ought to inspire, for the results of peace, by comparison, might make war 
seem almost mild. It is plain to see that peace would permit our population 
to run rampant and exhaust the food supply ; farming the seas would alleviate 
the situation only temporarily. Soon, the race would revert to the primitive, 
the hunting and gathering societies of the past, and Nature's plan, the obscure 
destination she has set for us, would be thwarted. Do you prefer to see your 
son wounded and bleeding on a foreign shore, or wandering naked over the 
shifting sands of a vast desert that was once a rich and fruitful world in a 
never-ending search for food? Under such abhorrent conditions no scientific, 
social, or economic advance could be carried out. 

This brings us to what is perhaps a side issue, but one that is nevertheless 
important. Peace makes us tend to be rather lackadaisical and unproductive. 
The list of great scientific accomplishments that orginated or evolved out of 
war is lengthy. Atomic energy, a scientific phenomenon that will one day 
prove to be our greatest servant, is still considered a weapon, an awesome 
dealer of death. Take into consideration too, the famous historical documents 
and profound philosophies that were instigated by the natural conflict of 
human beings. 

Admittedly, war is a ghastly and terrifying reality and I am not attempting 
to justify it. But it fulfills a useful, necessary purpose, for while most of us 
continue to live in its presence, few would survive without it. Possibly, all 
life would cease without this useful tool of nature, and the earth would 
become as empty and void of life as the pitted satellite that circles it. 

Then, let us remember when we lie dying on some battlefield that is a 
gaily colored pin planted firmly in our general's map, as many of us will, 
that we die not for a glorious cause set down in the noble speech of some 
politician, but because we are compelled to follow the dictates of Nature. 
Mankind may boast of his conquest of our natural environment, but at the 
final reckoning we invariably bow to Nature, either quietly as we sleep, or in 
the fiery midst of an international conflict. 

Are God and Nature then at strife, 
That Nature lends such evil dreams? 
So careful of the type she seems, 
So careless of the single life. 

— Tennyson, In Memoriam 



March, 1959 5 

The Four Hundred and Forty 
Yard Dash 

David Covin 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 3 

THE FOUR HUNDRED AND FORTY YARD DASH LEAVES 
two impressions — one with the spectator, the other with the competitor. 
The impression left with the spectator is largely one of visual images. 

Outdoors, at the dash's classic best, the spectator sees it run on an oval 
cinder track four hundred and forty yards in circumference. The start is 
staggered — that is, the man in the inside lane starts at the starting line, the 
man in the second lane a specified distance ahead of him, etc. Each man stays 
in his lane for the race's duration. After the runners have taken their places, 
the onlooker may hear the prepatory commands : "Runners, take your marks," 
and "Get set." These commands are followed by the starting gun. At the 
gun, the runners spring from the starting blocks, accelerate swiftly to sprint- 
ing speed, and race at almost top speed for the entire distance. The runners' 
motions are seemingly effortless ; yet these contestants frequently race stride 
for stride, fighting for the lead, over the greater portion of the race. The 
finishes are usually extremely close. The speed of the race coupled with the 
spectacular stretch battles make the four-forty one of the most thrilling events 
on the track, a spectator's favorite. 

The four-forty as the competitor knows it is a process. It begins as a faint 
fear early in the day of the meet. /Vs the day progresses, the fear grows, 
and an hour before the race it is a tight knot in the pit of the runner's stomach. 
Fear confronts him in different forms — shortened breath, nervous tension. 
Nervous tension forces him to jog back and forth, back and forth, shaking 
his dangling arms. Yet the four-forty is not only the fear and tension ; rather 
it is a series of impressions that continue in a voice that rings across the track. 
"Take off your sweats." That, the voice that causes the knot in the partici- 
pant's stomach to expand to long grasping fingers that clench his chest and 
abdomen, that is the four-forty. And it is also a little man waddling onto the 
track, his right arm encased in a red sleeve, his right hand holding a gun. 

"Runners, take your marks." This is the event that the trackman knows, 
the call that turns fear to cold pimples and brings beads of cold sweat sliding 
down his body. 

"Get set !" The call electrifies the air, sounding a challenge, a challenge 
that turns cold fear to expectancy and kindles the fires of energy. 

The blast of the gun begins the four-forty and the runner's explosive drive 
from the blocks. The quick, driving steps that bring immediate sprinting speed 



6 The Green Caldron 

and the practiced relaxation are the dash. The trackman knows this race as 
the boy to the left and the boy to the right, pushing, pushing. He lives it 
in the effortless movements of his legs, the feather-light tread of his feet, 
the thrill of running alone- — ahead, the sound of spikes treading light on the 
cinders behind him. And the competitor feels the race in the sudden sicken- 
ing fatigue he experiences as he rounds the last turn, the increasing intensity of 
the spikes to the rear. In the terrible expression of willpower the process 
continues, through the pushing that is beyond the realm of hope — to the 
goal that is the finishing tape. Nor does the event end with the dash, for 
the runner's race lasts in the athlete's exultation in his conquest, mind over 
body ; in his team mate's handshake ; his coach's warm words ; his dad's 
warm smile ; his mother's concealed happiness ; and his girl friend's kiss. 
Therefore, the four-forty may be a spectacle or an experience, a sight 
remembered, or an event relived at every crack of the starter's pistol. 

Darkness 

Dana Spencer 

Rhetoric 100, Theme 5 

I TOSSED AND TURNED IN MY BED TRYING TO MUFFLE 
the sound of the buzzing alarm clock on my dresser. Finally, with much 
disgust I dragged to my feet and turned it off. Another day was begin- 
ning. Remembering that I was to get up at seven, I thought it was strange 
that daylight was not creeping into the room beneath the window shade, but, 
being still half asleep, I soon lost the track of that thought. 

The dorm was quiet and most of the girls were still sleeping. I slowly 
dressed and ate my breakfast while trying to refresh my memory on the 
chemistry assignment due that morning. It was still not daylight. 

I walked hurriedly to my first class ; however I wasn't thinking about 
chemistry equations. Now I was really puzzled by the strange day. The 
idea occurred to me that maybe some phenomenal thing had happened to my 
alarm clock causing it to wake me hours ahead of time, but then other students 
would not be on the campus as they were now. 

Qimbing the dimly lighted stairway to the lecture room, I sensed the 
quiet and eerie feeling in the air. The classroom door was locked. A note on 
the window was all that gave evidence of this being a regularly used room. 
It said, "No class today. Go home to your room and stay there until further 
notice." 

Something was wrong. I panicked ! I couldn't understand the strange 
occurrences of this day. Still there was only darkness. 

Throwing down my books, I frantically ran back to the dorm. I thought 
surely I could find the answer from someone there. Upon arrival I was 
shocked to find that everyone was in the same state I was. Girls were milling 
around the corridors. Some were in their pajamas, while others had dressed 



March, 1959 7 

in the expectation of going to morning classes. They seemed dazed and unable 
to think clearly. I stopped the girls I knew and excitedly asked what was 
happening, but they couldn't speak to me. 

Finally, after a moment of helplessness, I remembered my radio, and I 
pushed my way to my room and turned it on. I flipped the dial, but got no 
response until I came to the Civil Defense station. Then, a stiflf, tight voice 
came over the air, and at last, I received the shocking news. It was so un- 
believable and out of the question that it took me a few minutes to compre- 
hend the meaning of the announcer's abrupt words, "The sun has gone out !" 

Greek Meets Greek 

Joe Culberg 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 3 

I am university student 265112. I am pledging I Giva Dama, the best fraternity on 
campus. Last night I had a very funny dream. It seems that somehow I was in heaven. 
I was looking for a landmark, when I see this guy coming toward me. He was weird 
looking : bald with a bedsheet wrapped around him. 

"Where the hell am I ?" I asks him. 

"Quite the contrary my son," he says. Then I tells him that I am 265112 and a Dama 
pledge. He hold me that his name was Socrates. He turned out to be a Greek just like 
me. He asked me to come over to his house. I told him that I had already rushed so I 
couldn't. He told me that he had checked with the I.F.C. and it was okay. When we got 
to his house, I was amazed. It had pillars and big doors, just like the Dama house. We 
walks in and nobody looks. 

"Hey, Soc," I says, "ain't I gonna meet the brothers?" He told me when his friends 
wanted to meet me they would; "Oh, that's because I'm not rushing, right Soc?" 

"No, that's because they don't want to meet you." He took me into the dining room. 
"Would you like some food ?" I was hungry ; so I said yes. Well, old Soc claps his hands 
and a couple of men bring in trays and trays of goodies. 

"Pledges, Soc?" 

"Slaves." 

We sits down to eat and he tells me all about his house. He says they get up when 
they want to, and eat when they want to. I says to him, "Soc, how can you guys live like 
this? Whatta ya do for supervision?" He looks at me funny and snickered. Then I asks, 
"Whatta ya do all day?" 

"Oh, we read and contemplate a bit." 

I was shocked. "Where do you get time ?" I asked. 

"Don't you have time?" Whatta silly guy. I told him I was too busy studying to 
learn. 

I finally said, "Soc, just between us two, what do you do for excitement?" 

"We have orgies." 

"Everyone has to go, huh ?" 

"No." 

"Then you get them dates from the pig pool ?" He was getting pretty disgusted with 
me and I with him. Just before I left I said, "Soc, for a Greek you are the best god damn 
Independent I have ever seen." He thanked me and I left. 

When I awoke I thought, "Brother I wouldn't want a guy like that in the Dama 
house. He doesn't even know what a Greek is." 



8 The Green Caldron 

Saints and Sinners 

Joel Kaplan 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 1 

The only difference between the saint and the sinner is that every 
saint has a past and ever sinner has a future. — Wilde 

THE THOUGHT THAT SAINTS AND SINNERS ARE ESSEN- 
tially alike is both extraordinary and true. Both must occasionally 
shudder at the thought of their sins and virtues ; both must carry an 
immense burden, heav}^ and unrelenting ; both must suffer, in their long search 
for joy amid tragedy. 

Joy amid tragedy and tears amid gaiety — certainly these are the identifying 
characteristics of both lives. The dift'erence — a significant one — is to be 
found in the simple fact that the saint — in the highest sense of the word — finds 
his tragedy in the past ; the sinner finds his not only in the past, but also 
in the present. For him the present is a transitional stage. He may stagnate, 
or he may, through suffering, become a saint. The question is will he conquer 
suffering or will suffering conquer him ? 

All superior human beings have become so through a long, bitter conflict 
with themselves. Sometimes the conflict becomes so intensely brilliant and 
holds such fascination that the man whose soul is its battleground achieves 
greatness in the eyes of the world. However, to be a saint he must go further. 
He must have achieved salvation from inner torment ; he must have over- 
come the suffering in his soul in order to have any hope of solving the suf- 
ferings of the world. And here can be seen the similarity between saints and 
sinners. Both have known this conflict within themselves. The saint has 
experienced his in the past ; the sinner experiences his in the present — his 
conflict has not yet been resolved. Yet, somehow they are both superior to 
the average man, whose duller sensibilities render him incapable of experienc- 
ing deep pain or anguish. 

In Wilde's quotation, the fact that the two are considered together in- 
dicates that Wilde is not referring to the ordinary sinner, but to a human 
being aware of his sins, for sins are only such if we consider ourselves to have 
sinned. To be aware of sin is to suffer from it. To be aware of sin is to 
strive toward a higher form of life, toward sainthood. Here, we mvist define 
the saint as Wilde sees him. By saint, he does not mean a Puritan or a pious 
and respectable pillar of the church or community. It is even conceivable that 
an atheist could become a saint (however, he would then cease to be a real 
atheist). A saint, to Wilde, is one who has achieved what the sinner is secretly 
striving for — the dimly-perceived, but real life of purity and meaning which 
is fully aware of the significance of the word "repentance." The saint has 



March, 1959 .9 

not eliminated suffering or conflict. He has, instead, accepted the former and 
overcome the latter through a strong and confident determination to follow 
the path he has chosen. 

We are now able to see the reason for the anguish, the burden, the sorrow, 
and the joy that shall always acompany the saint and the sinner. The former 
has used the suffering of life as a means of extracting the joy of life. Perhaps 
the sinner, in his long war against all that degrades and defeats the human 
soul, will do likewise. 

The Mythical MoraHty of 
American History 

Sharon Simerl 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 10 

IN A WORLD WHICH IS RULED BY FORCE AND STRENGTH, 
it should not seem strange that nations are not respected for their noble 

motives but for their ability to take advantage of their neighbors suc- 
cessfully. Although most Americans would vigorously deny that the United 
States gained its power and prominence by such Machiavellian disregard 
for ethical standards, it might surprise many Americans to discover that the 
United States, like most other important countries, has committed its share 
of underhanded and unethical actions in order to protect itself or increase its 
material size and wealth. 

When the Pilgrims arrived at Plymouth in the early 1600's, they were 
establishing themselves on land to which, actually, they had no right. The 
papers and charters issued to them were signed by European rulers who 
based their authority upon the voyages made to the New World by ships 
carrying their flags. Perhaps if the New World has been totally uninhabited 
by human beings, there would have been justification for the establishment of 
colonies. Plowever, from Canada to Mexico there were numerous tribes of 
Indians, scattered across the land that was to become the United States. 
The arrival of the first white men marked the beginning of long centuries in 
which the Indians were steadily pushed from their hunting grounds and their 
native areas into successively poorer and more worthless territories — all 
because of the greed and callousness of the newcomers. Even today, much 
of the land upon which most Indian reservations have been established con- 
sists of some of the driest, least fertile soil to be found in America. 

The Revolutionary War. which has been glorified continually in American 
history books, had its share of commercial motivation, for, in reality, the 
restrictions on civil liberties in the colonies were frequently far less stringent 
than those in England herself. The merchants and industrialists of the thirteen 



10 The Green Caldron 

colonies were among the ones most eager to sever relations with the crown and 
thereby end restrictions on their commercial activities. 

But, although such motivations may tarnish the reputation of the War 
of Independence, it was not until several years later that the United States 
entered into a conflict from altogether selfish motives. This was in the War 
of 1812, which was allegedly fought over the impressment of American sailors 
into the English Navy. However, a closer study of the situation will indicate 
that it was the midwestern area of the United States which called for war — 
not the eastern seaboard states which were affected by the problem of im- 
pressment. What did the Midwest want? Expansion had become such a part 
of America's policy that Canada appeared to be worthy of annexation, in 
spite of the fact that Canada had no desire to unite with the United States. A 
war with England would have given the United States an opportunity to 
seize Canada from the English. But what angered the English most about 
this attack was that England was then engaged in a bitter struggle against 
Napoleonic France. Napoleon's victorious forces had swept before them most 
of the major powers of Europe, Across the continent lay Russia, and to 
the west stood England. These were the sole remaining opponents to a 
dictator whose goal was complete subjugation of Europe. The fate of Europe 
hung in the balance, but the United States was more concerned with her own 
personal strength and prestige than with the fate of Europe. 

There are other events and conditions in United States history of which 
America should not be proud — the Mexican War, slavery, the Spanish- 
American War, the doors once closed to Oriental immigration, the interven- 
tion in Guatemala, the intervention in Lebanon, and segregation. There are 
many more. All nations are guilty of similar wrongs, but perhaps it is of 
value to point out to Americans that they, too, have been wrong and that 
they, too, have done things which do not merit unlimited praise and unlimited 
confidence in the morality of their own decisions. 

Time 

Emile de Antonio 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 8 

Time ! It is an inescapable truth that we can never grasp. It lies in the lined face of 
the old wino asleep in the gutter, and in the city waiting stilly for the morning — dark 
towers straining toward the sky. It is the face of the clock whose ticking taunts us with 
our futility and insignificance, and the fearful, dry-mounthed instant before discovering 
footsteps halt and turn away. It is the instant between the movement and the flow, and 
it is the momentary hesitation of the wave before it collapses into white foam. It is the 
pause between the sound and the echo, the action and the regret. It is the embarrassed 
silence, and the soft rustling of corn in the still night breeze. It lies in the games that 
we played when we were children — laughing and rolling in the grass. It is the boring 
class, the fly buzzing in and out of the instructor's monotone while the afternoon sunlight 
falls on the trees outside, and the span between the falling of the first leaf and the last. 
It is the red and golden dusk shadowing pale figures on the grass. It is the sadness of 
mortality. 



March, 1959 11 

Void World-1984 

Stephen D. Marciietti 
Rhetoric 101, Theme 6 

GEORGE ORWELL, THE AUTHOR OF 1984, IS KNOWN AS A 
brilliant political writer whose insight and perception are quite alarming 
because of their accuracy and because of the profound messages they 
reveal. With this in mind, one can recognize the purpose of 1984, since after 
the first few pages, he can feel the presence of something which must be 
explained in political and economic terms. 

Winston Smith, the book's main character, and the shabby world in 
which he lives immediately convey the message that there is definitely some- 
thing wrong with the way of life in the year of 1984. So radically wrong 
is this way of life that the reader is shocked, startled, appalled. And a realiza- 
tion of Orwell's purpose is immediate. The reader feels that he must know 
why and how such a state of existence could ever result from today's glorified 
forms of government — even how our own form of democracy could possibly 
deteriorate to a hopelessly totalitarian form of government. This is Orwell's 
purpose: to write a novel that is so radical in theme and content that it 
demands the full attention of the reader, focuses that attention on the fact 
that through our carelessness and unconcerned attitude toward government, 
the world of 1984 is not improbable — that we are only a few steps away 
from it ! 

The world of 1984 is a pitifully shabby one in which men merely exist, 
having ceased to live in the sense that we know life. It is a world of tele- 
screens and Thought-Police, of mass frenzied hates and of hysterical adora- 
tion of "Big Brother," the personified head of the Party. It is a world in 
which intellectual activity has been crushed, leaving the minds of men but 
empty shells to be filled with grains of party doctrine whenever and however 
the party chooses. No thought exists other than that approved by the party. 
"Newspeak," the official language of the party, is a wanton liquidation of 
words with the hope that eventually thought itself will be so limited by a 
lack of words that it will be impossible to think anything but party doctrine. 
There is no reason other than that of "double-think," which causes the terms 
"IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH," "FREEDOM IS SLAVERY," and 
"WAR IS PEACE" to ring true in the minds of 1984 as do "In God We 
Trust" and "E Pluribus Untim" ring true to us. Philosophically it is a 
world void of truth and hope, of faith in fellow men and in oneself. Physically 
it is a world of poverty and filth, of countless unsatisfied desires. 

Life in 1984 is an existence of hunger and want. It is a world of cities 
ravished by continual war. Visualize the havoc of post-war Europe in our 
time and you have a picture of the physical state of the world in 1984. More- 
over, imagine yourself living among the shambles of a war-torn city with 



12 The Green Caldron 

no hope for anything better in the future. Imagine yourself a man who is 
just past his prime of life to whom all this misery seems wrong, unnatural, 
intolerable, but who knows that the situation is hopelessly out of his hands. 
Yes, hopelessly — because the party has worked hard to achieve this misery 
and will work even harder to maintain it ! Imagine yourself a man who knows 
that love is a forbidden pleasure in a world where all emotions but fear and 
hate have been driven out of humanity. Do this and you will see life as 
Winston Smith does, and you will hate this life, 

Winston Smith, by being a party member of 1984, has been deprived of 
all the things we think of as essential to a worthwhile life : freedom of thought, 
intellectual activity, even physical needs and pleasures. He is typical of any 
party member. He wears the dress of the Party, grubby shirt and blue 
overalls. He listens to the endless stream of lies that flows from the tele- 
screens. He drinks "Victory Gin" when the strain of everyday life begins to 
show in weariness — which is several times a day. And he joins the shouting 
mob in hysteria when it is time to take part in the "two minutes hate" which 
is the duty of every party member. But in one respect Winston is different. 

He believes there is a better way of life. He is one of those throwbacks 
to civilization who cannot accept the party because he still has his intelligence 
and some amount of spirit. He is the type of man who will take all risks to 
have what he thinks should be his. And there is Julia, the woman Winston 
dares to love. She is not, however, like Winston. She is typical of the majority 
of party members who are not intelligent enough to grasp the real meanings 
of party doctrine. Her only desire is to satisfy her immediate physical wants 
and desires. Therefore freedom of thought means little to her as long as she 
can eat and sleep in peace and enjoy sex. She doesn't hate the Party 
for what it is ; she hates it because it deprives her of pleasure. 

Winston Smith and Julia, by falling in love and daring to defy the Party, 
give the reader a realistic plot through which to understand and apply what Or- 
well is saying. Their struggle is the medium Orwell uses to delve into the philo- 
sophical and political core of "Ingsoc" (the name of the political theory). By 
living and seeing the world of 1984 through Winston's eyes and by tracing his 
rebellion from its first thought to its fateful end in the hands of the Thought- 
Police, we get an excellent description of the meaning of "Ingsoc." Its 
doctrines progressively get more unbelievable and eventually reach a point 
of startling impact. It is this impact that forces on the reader's mind all that 
Orwell says in his book. And although Orwell never says it directly, the 
reader knows that the world of 1984 is highly probable. 

Orwell's concept of life in 1984 might seem contrived at first glance, but 
with a little study the reader can see that the setting, characters, and even 
the situations of 1984 are quite realistic. Style is simple and direct, but 
the theme of 1984 is so radical that the reader is not apt to forget it for a 
long time. 



March, 1959 13 

Jackson at Chancellorsville 

D. Craig Ahlberg 
Rhetoric 102, Theme 11 

THE BATTLE OF CHANCELLORSVILLE CLIMAXED THE CA- 
reer of Stonewall Jackson, one of America's greatest heroes. Before 
following Jackson through his last days, we will attempt to trace the 
development of those attributes which made him a great soldier and a great 
man. 

Thomas Jonathan Jackson grew up in the rugged frontier region near 
Qarksburg, Virginia (now West Virginia), where he was born January 21, 
1824. He secured an appointment to West Point in 1842. The newly com- 
missioned artillery officer got his first taste of war early; he was sent to 
Mexico in 1846. Jackson emerged from the Mexican war with numerous 
commendations for his valor. 

In 1851, Jackson accepted a position as Professor of Natural and Experi- 
mental Philosophy and Artillery Tactics at the Virginia Military Institute 
in Lexington. At V.M.I, the professor prepared himself for his daily tasks 
by diligent study. His habit of reflection enabled him to acquire remarkable 
powers of concentration. A cadet gives this interesting description of his 
professor : 

Old Jack is a character, genius, or just a little crazy. He lives 
quietly and don't meddle. He's as systematic as a multiplication table 
and as full of military as an arsenal. Stifif, you see, never laughs but 
as kindhearted as a woman — and by Jupiter, he teaches a nigger Sun- 
day school. But, mind, if this John Brown business leads to war, he'll 
be heard from ! ^ 

Col. T. J. Jackson's first assignment for the Confederacy was at the scene 
of the "John Brown business," Harpers Ferry. It was here that he took 
command of the brigade which, along with its commander, would in a span 
of two years become immortally associated with the word "Stonewall." 

It was a few months later, on July 21, 1861, at the First Battle of Manassas 
that the name "Stonewall" originated. During a furious Union charge, 
General Jackson placed his well-trained brigade in a commanding defensive 
position. The attack brought confusion in the Confederate ranks. It was 
here that General Bee, spotting Jackson's men standing firmly amidst the 
general retreat shouted to his men, "Look, there is Jackson standing like a 
stone wall ! Rally behind the Virginians !" ^ 

What kind of general was this Stonewall Jackson? Jackson's tactics 
were thoroughly worked out beforehand. Like Napoleon, he spent a great 
deal of time studying maps. He gained amazing familiarity with the terrain 



14 The Green Caldron 

in which he was to fight. "In meditation," says Bacon, "all dangers should 
be seen ; in execution none, unless they are very formidable." It was on this 
precept that Jackson acted. He weighed every risk ; he left nothing to chance.^ 
"Never take counsel of your fears" was a maxim often on his lips. His 
decisions were swift and firm. He had no moments of deplorable indecision 
and no occasion to lament the loss of golden opportunities. 

These selected quotations present some of Jamkson's military maxims. 
He was strongly influenced by Napoleon. Notice the emphasis Jackson places 
on aggressiveness, speed, and maneuver. 

There are two things never to be lost sight of by a commander. 
Always mystify, mislead, and surprise the enemy, if possible ; and when 
you strike and overcome him, never give up the pursuit as long as your 
men have strength to follow ; for an army routed, if hotly pursued, 
becomes panic-stricken, and can then be destroyed by half their number. 
The other rule is, never fight against heavy odds, if by any possible 
maneuvering you can hurl your own force on only a part, and that the 
weakest part, of your enemy and crush it. 

Napoleon, he [Jackson] said, was the first to show what an army 
could be made to accomplish. He had shown what was the value of time 
as an element of strategic combination, and that good troops, if well 
cared for, could be made to march 25 miles daily, and win battles 
besides. 

We must make this campaign, he said at the beginning of 1863, an 
exceedingly active one. Only thus can a weaker country cope with the 
stronger ; it must make up in activity what it lacks in strength. A defen- 
sive campaign can only be made successful by taking the aggressive 
at the proper time. Napoleon never waited for his adversary to be- 
come fully prepared, but struck him the first blow.^ 
Speed was vital to Jackson's bold, aggressive tactics. He never hesitated 
to call on his lean, light-traveling soldiers to make forced marches if he could 
gain a surprise, or if the enemy were already in flight. He stated, "I had rather 
lose one man in marching than five in fighting." ^ His men rapidly became 
known as "Jackson's foot cavalry." 

Despite Stonewall's demands on them, his soldiers were devoted to him. 
To them, he was "Old Jack," just as he had been to his West Point classmates. 
They knew their leader had every concern for their well-being. They looked 
upon Jackson as a father ; they would march anywhere, do anything for him. 
Stonewall had an equal admiration for the self-sacrificing valor of his men. 
He believed they could do anything he commanded. 

Jackson placed great importance on secrecy. He took infinite pains to 
conceal, even from his most trusted staff officers, his movements, his inten- 
tions, and his thoughts. On many marches, only Jackson himself knew the 
destination. When Jackson was informed of the irritation of his staff at being 
kept uninformed of his plans, he merely smiled and said, "If I can deceive 
my own friends, I can make certain of deceiving the enemy." He often quoted 



March, 1959 IS 

Frederick the Great's maxim : "If I thought my coat knew my plans, I would 
take it off and burn it." ^ 

It must be remembered that Jackson was subordinate to Lee. Of his chief, 
Stonewall said, "Lee is a phenomenon, I would follow him blindfold." '^ Lee 
and his most trusted lieutenant closely cooperated in the direction of Southern 
efforts. Lee was the strategist ; he made the sweeping plans. Jackson was the 
tactician; it was he who planned the bold strokes which brought so much 
success to their armies. 

These, in summary, are some of the principles which made Stonewall Jack- 
son a great general : His moves were well planned. He was boldly aggres- 
sive. In his attacks he used speed, security, maneuver, and surprise to bring 
himself upon the weakest part of his foe. Once he had defeated his enemy, 
he followed up his victory by pursuing the demoralized opponent. 

The classic example of Jackson's skill as a general is the Valley Campaign 
of 1862. By looking briefly at this rather complicated campaign, we can see 
how vital Jackson's tactical skill was to the Confederacy. 

In the spring of 1862, McClellan, the Union Commanding General, stood 
poised for an invasion of Richmond with an army of 150,000 men. The Con- 
federate army was about one-third this size. In the Shenandoah Valley, 
Jackson had 4,000 men. Facing him was a Union force of over 20,000 under 
General Nathaniel Banks. Another army, almost as large, under General 
Fremont, stood ready in West Virginia. According to the Union plans. 
Banks was to drive Jackson from the Valley, then move east to Manassas to 
protect Washington. McClellan could then move against Richmond without 
any fear for the capital's safety. 

Lee ordered Jackson to hold as many Federal troops as possible in the 
Valley, thus keeping them away from the force invading Richmond. 

As Banks started to leave the Valley, confident that he had forced the 
retiring Jackson to flee, he was attacked by Stonewall at Kernstown. Although 
Jackson suffered a defeat, he had scored an over-all victory for the Con- 
federacy. Not only did Banks remain in the Valley, but Lincoln detached 
McDowell's corps from McClellan's army to protect Washington. 

Jackson then turned upon and defeated Fremont's army at McDowell. 
Heading north again, Stonewall drove his "foot cavalry" against Banks and 
pursued him to the outskirts of panic-stricken Washington. When Jackson 
swiftly retired back into the Valley, he drew an even larger force of Federals 
with him. The converging armies. Banks and Gen. Shields from the north, 
and Fremont from the west, did not catch Jackson until they reached the place 
where he had chosen to meet them. After defeating both Union forces, Jackson 
slipped away to join Lee in the defense of Richmond. 

In the period of May 8, to June 9, 1862, Jackson's men, at no time number- 
ing more than 17,000, marched 400 miles and fought and won five battles 
against 62,000 Union troops.^ Stonewall had not only prevented 100,000 



16 The Green Caldron 

troops from reaching McClellan, but had joined Lee to aid in driving the 
remaining 100,000 away from Richmond. Although Lee had placed Jackson 
in the Valley and sent him re-enforcements at a crucial point, the real credit 
for this amazing campaign belongs to Stonewall Jackson and his "foot cavalry." 

What kind of man was this Stonewall Jackson? The brilliant Valley 
Campaign had made Jackson an over-night hero in the South. However, 
Jackson did not look the part of a hero. He wore no braid, no plume. Instead, 
he wore a simple, faded uniform along with oversize army boots. Walking or 
riding on his faithful horse, "Little Sorrel," old Jack seemed ungainly. Not 
until one viewed his face, would one be impressed. 

He had a high, broad forehead, small, sharp nose, thin, pallid lips, generally 
tightly shut, and a dark, rusty beard. He was noted for his piercing blue 
eyes. "When I looked into his face," said a Federal prisoner, "my heart sank 
within me." ^ 

According to H. Kyd Douglas, "He was quiet, not morose. He often 
smiled, rarely laughed. He never told a joke but rather liked to hear one now 
and then. Reticent and reliant, he beHeved, 'He walks with speed who walks 
alone.' " i" 

His deep religious feeling dominated Jackson's entire person. At home 
he had been a Presbyterian Deacon. Prayer meetings were an integral part 
of the camp routine. Jackson's religious fervor inspired not only those under 
his command, but the entire Confederate army as well. Daniel tells us, "Fre- 
quently when his army was being formed for battle, his attendants noticed 
that liis lips moved, and his right arm was upraised — they knew that he was 
in prayer." ^^ 

When he was once compelled to attack on a Sunday, Jackson reconciled 
his religious conscience with his military duty with these famous words : 
"Arms is a profession that requires an officer to do what he fears may be 
wrong, and yet according to military experience, must be done. . . . Had I 
fought the battle on Monday instead of Sunday, I fear our cause would have 
suffered." ^^ 

His favorite maxim was, "Duty is ours ; consequences are God's." ^^ 

"My religious belief teaches me to feel as safe in battle as in bed," said 
Stonewall. "God has fixed the time for my death, I do not concern myself 
about that." " 

In April of 1863, soon before the upcoming campaign of Chancellorsville, 
Jackson wrote his wife, "I trust that God is going to bless us with a great 
success, and in such a manner as to show that it is all His gift; and I trust 
and pray that it will lead our country to acknowledge Him, and to live in 
accordance with His will as revealed in the Bible." ^^ 

In the spring of 1863, "Fighting Joe" Hooker was appointed Commander 
of the Union's Army of the Potomac. He had an army of 134,000 well-trained 
men, eager to fight. Lee's army at that time numbered about 60,000. On April 



March, 1959 17 

27, Hooker's force moved out of winter camp near Fredericksburg and crossed 
the Rappahannock. 

Hooker made the opening moves. His plan was to divide his army into 
two attack groups, one to threaten each flank of Lee's army. Two corps 
under Major General John Sedgwick crossed the river at Fredericksburg to 
attract Lee's attention eastward. The main force made a long march which 
brought them in from the west on Lee's left flank-. 

On April 29, Jackson received word that Hooker had crossed the Rap- 
pahannock. Battle sounds were already thundering as he hastily took leave 
of his wife and baby daughter, who had been visiting him, and headed for 
the front. 

Hooker had moved his army well. He was in a position to make his flank 
attack. He issued this proud message : 'Tt is with heartfelt satisfaction that 
the Commanding General announces to the army that the operations of the 
last three days [April 27-30] have determined that our enemy must either 
ingloriously fly, or come out from behind his defenses and give us battle on 
our own ground, where certain destruction awaits him." ^^ 

Lee was faced with the problem of deciding which part of the Union army 
to face. He sent General Anderson's division to a position east of Chancellors- 
ville. Its duty was to protect the Confederate left flank. Aleanwhile, Jackson 
and Lee, commanding the main elements of the army, surveyed Sedgwick's 
position across from Fredericksburg. 

Jackson wished to fight ; he wanted to drive the enemy into the river. Lee 
thought the Federal position was too strong, but in deference to his lieutenant's 
tactical skill he conceded, "If you think it can be done, I will give orders for 
it." 1^ 

Jackson asked for time to examine the ground thoroughly before he made 
his decision. Reporting back to Lee, Jackson said it would be inexpedient to 
attack the Federals at that position. 

Lee then decided to face Hooker's main body, which was positioned on 
the left. Jackson was ordered to join Anderson at the latter's position near 
Chancellorsville. Ten thousand men under General Early were left to 
confront Sedgwick on the heights of Fredericksburg, 

As Hooker halted for the night on April 30, with his 70,000 men, he 
saw victory within his grasp. He prepared to annihilate Lee's army. 

However, Jackson was wasting no time. Shortly after midnight on May 1, 
Jackson's lean veterans marched through the mists towards Chancellorsville — 
and Hooker. At 8 :00 a.m., Jackson reached Anderson's entrenched position. 
The Federals were headed towards him, marching through the wilderness. 

Jackson was impatient. He wanted to attack Hooker's men while they 
were still in the dense, scrubby forest. He ordered him men forward. Some 
of Anderson's men went along the old turnpike; the rest of the 2nd Corps 
followed the plank road which ran slightly south of the turnpike. Fire broke 



18 The Green Caldron 

out on the turnpike. Anderson had met the enemy. Jackson kept moving 
forward. He worried about his flank in these dense woods. He sent out 
skirmishers to "feel out" the Federal position ; this was no place to be groping 
blindly. Jackson learned that Hooker guarded both roads and was aggressive. 
Stonewall ordered his artillery to shell the Federals. 

A courier brought a message from Jeb Stuart, the brilliant cavalry leader 
and one of Jackson's close friends. He had come in on Jackson's left flank. 
"I will close in on the flank and help all I can when the ball opens," wrote 
gay Stuart. He added a special line for "the Deacon." "May God grant us 
victory." 

Jackson replied, "I trust that God will grant us a great victory. Keep 
closed on Chancellorsville." ^^ 

Lee soon joined Jackson and the latter reported the situation to his com- 
mander. Lee fully approved Jackson's decisions and made no changes. He 
rode off to examine the Confederate right. 

As Jackson pressed forward, all the Union lines rapidly drew in. Jackson 
was puzzled by the situation. Was the enemy in retreat or planning an 
ambush? Stonewall cautiously continued his advance. "Press them" became 
his standard phrase that day.^^ 

At mid-afternoon, Jackson followed a road paralleling his lines until 
he came to a hill near an old iron works called Catherine Furnace. Here 
he met Jeb Stuart. The General scanned the Federal positions to the north. 
The dense underbrush which covered the Federals' positions might also 
cover an attack. 

When he returned to the front, Jackson learned that Hooker was present- 
ing a formidable defense. An excited Confederate oflicer, Alexander C. 
Haskell, led Jackson up a little knoll. Through his field glasses, Jackson 
could see three Yankee battle lines behind heavy earth works. Jackson 
told Captain Haskell, "Hold this ground until 9 :00 o'clock tonight . . . 
countersign for the night is : challenge, liberty ; reply, independence." ^^ 

Jackson rode back to the plank road where he met Lee shortly before 
dark. The two sat on a log and began the last of the Lee- Jackson meetings. 
Lee asumed that Hooker would hold his present positions the next morning, 
and accordingly began to plan an attack. 

Jeb Stuart rode up. He was in high glee. Fitzhugh Lee, his daring 
young lieutenant, had discovered that Hooker had not anchored his right 
flank. It was "in the air." Attention now focused on the exposed Union 
right. A secret and comparatively short route had to be found. The dense 
wilderness began to look friendly. There was no danger of being detected 
by the Union cavalry, for Hooker had sent them on a raid towards Richmond. 
Stuart merrily mounted his horse and thundered away to look for a road. 

A scouting party reported that an attack on the Federal front would 
be suicidal. Lee pored over the map. Finally, as if talking to himself, he 
said, "How can we get at those people?" 



March, 1959 19 

Loyal Jackson replied, "You know best. Show me what to do, and we 
will try to do it." ~^ 

Finally Lee drew a broad arc with his finger. Jackson would lead a 
detached force on a flank march and would be screened by Stuart with the 
cavalry. The strategy had been completed and now Jackson must work out 
the tactics, 

Stonewall had been offered a rich opportunity. Old Jack rose from 
the log, saluted Lee, and said, "My troops will move at 4 o'clock." ^- 

In a little clearing in the woods, Jackson unbuckled his sword and 
stretched out on the chill ground. Sandy Pendleton offered the cape from 
his greatcoat to the General, who had forgotten his blanket r